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#so i miss mostly everything. its so frustrating
littlemonday · 2 days
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So much of the difference in player response to the Emperor vs. Raphael comes down to aesthetics.
I’ve been seeing a lot of fan posting of Raphael lately, which is honestly fine. I enjoy seeing fan creations on all the characters. But I feel like I need to address something that is, for me, rather glaring in the fandom. Raphael is a pretty popular character, while the Emperor gets so much hate posting I’ve had to block users and entire groups on other sites because it was so over the top. These characters are functionally quite similar in the game, but the disparity in how they’re each perceived couldn’t be more different.
Both characters need to form an alliance with the main character. Both characters need the main character to defeat the brain. Both characters are willing to manipulate the main character to meet their own ends. But, one character is a conventionally attractive middle aged man, and the other is a humanoid squid monster. (How many times have we all seen posts about how upset someone was when their hot dream guardian turned out to be the squid monster?)
Not only is Raphael conventionally attractive, but he stays that way when he reveals himself as a devil.The Emperor presents himself as someone the main character would trust, but when he’s finally revealed, he bears no resemblance to the facade he was wearing - a facade that he sincerely believed was necessary to keep himself safe and to win your trust. Raphael is quite literally the handsome devil. His ascended form barely makes an appearance, but even so that form is not alien. It’s devilish, but not alien, and “alien” unlike devilish, invokes a deeply discomforting fear of the unknown.
Raphael is all opulence and performance, wearing tailored clothing and living in a grandiose house that hides the horrors of what happens there until late into act 3. While the mind flayer colonies by comparison are grotesque organisms that look like the inside of a body, and the Emperor’s home is a bare bones cellar with the last remaining keepsakes of his former life. The chains he uses to hold his victims are right out in the open.
Raphael is like an old school campy Disney villain who tries to entertain you all while openly admitting that he wants you to come to him when you’re desperate and all hope is gone. And like those old Disney villains, he just enjoys being evil. He even comes with his own villain song that he sings. He enjoys your suffering. He’s openly playing with his food. The Emperor does try to seduce you, but mostly tries to appeal to your pragmatism and empathy. However, he doesn’t have Disney villain camp to help him out here. He embodies all the body horror and fear over the player's loss of humanity by virtue of him being a mind flayer. He does have a song, but most of us miss it on our first play through and don’t hear its tragic lyrics.
Raphael, and this one is perhaps the most frustrating to me, imprisoned and tortured Hope for years! He takes advantage of people, including orphans, and gets them to sign away their souls for eternal torment in exchange for something they desperately want or need in life. While the Emperor has that one infamous cutscene in which we see him enthrall Stelmane, but it comes on the heels of the player dehumanizing and provoking him. A lot of players will refer to this as a “call out” and a “mask off” moment, which is very disingenuous framing. It’s frustrating that so few players never seem to consider the deeper role their choices may play in triggering this scene: you treat him like an inhuman monster, and you get an inhuman monster. Players will complain all the time about how the Emperor manipulates you and lies about everything, but apparently in this one scene he’s suddenly being completely honest and not manipulating you? So many never consider the possibility of confirmation bias when it comes to this character.
As I said, this cutscene is an obvious threat, but I know that just because he’s threatening you, it doesn’t mean there’s no truth to what you’re seeing. However, it also doesn’t mean that this is somehow “the truth” as so many players seem to think it is. I’ll write more on this in another post, but there’s just not enough information in the game to make definitive conclusions on their relationship. And I bring this up because I don’t see anywhere near the outrage over Hope as I see over Stelmane.
Then there’s Ansur. The Emperor killed his love, Ansur, out of self defense (we know this from Ansur himself), and for a lot of players, this was what solidified their hatred for the Emperor, and they will endlessly hate post about it. Raphael, on the other hand, never killed any of his loves. But the reason he never killed any of his loves is because he’s never loved anyone. He’s incapable of it, and anyone he has killed was, at best, a mere tool for his use.
Which brings me to my next point, even though both characters are trying to manipulate you to their own ends, only the Emperor sees you as more than a means to an end. Raphael does not. In fact, I wrote a lot of words on this very topic.
I’ve had people tell me that they like Raphael more because he’s upfront with his intentions, while the Emperor isn’t. That’s not entirely true. The Emperor tells you he wants his freedom, even tells you the power he uses to protect you is power he’s stolen, but he goes to great lengths to hide his identity, where Raphael barely goes to any lengths at all. As I said, the Emperor sincerely believes he must do this to protect himself. He likes to puff his chest out, but he’s quite aware of his own vulnerability, so he lives a life in which he’s constantly hiding and disguising himself. He’s surviving, as he puts it in the end. Raphael is essentially a prince in the Hells who wields a lot of power, and whatever vulnerabilities he might have are well protected. Whatever difference this makes is not enough to justify the gulf in how much hate the Emperor receives versus how little Raphael does.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: this is not me saying that you have to like one character or dislike another. That’s personal, and I’m not going to waste time telling people how to feel. So please don’t take away from this that I want to see more hate posting about Raphael. I don’t! Please don’t hate post about any characters, and if you absolutely must, please don’t use character tags to do so. What I am saying is that there’s a clear double standard in this fandom, and I want more players to engage with this media in a way that is both empathetic and analytical. I think both of those things together can prevent a lot of toxicity.
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typicalopposite · 12 hours
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*paces the room*
So I just finished season 5!
So MUCH happened I swear going back to look at the episodes synopsis’ for this post I was like… wait that was in this season too?!? I stayed up ALL night TWICE watching this season because I just couldn’t turn it off! It’s crazy that people didn’t like this season (like vehemently didn’t like it at least on Reddit… BUT they say they don’t like s6 because its Buck centric and he “needs to be more of a background character” sooooo clearly I won’t read too into their nonsense)
ANYWAY this season is possibly one of my favorites! From the hackers the gps wrecks and tower scare, the zoo breakout (THE ZOO BREAKOUT OMG… THE ALPACAAAAAAAS! And Buck being scared LOL) to Jeffrey escaping and then Athena’s whole story line following! I was terrified for her and for Harry and ACK!!!!
Maddie’s PPD and leaving arc was so heartbreaking and frustrating at the same time! And I felt so bad for Chim (and Buck) and baby Jee!
OMG the homecoming parade crash and the mixup I was so Heartbroken for them! :(
Claudette… :/ hated her and her ending… but mostly her
Of course Lucifer (spn) shows up as an extremely bad guy but he wants to play dad of the year (ok the guy here at least is thinking of his kid more than himself… but still PARALLELS!)
MICHAEL AND DAVID! I hated to see them go! And that montage had me all teary eyed during one of my all nighters!
Toni’s little love story <3 and the girls from the oil spill! <3<3
Eddie’s panic attacks and leaving the 118 was so sad! But I get it… I also know he will be back because I came from season 7 *shrugs* so it wasn’t too sad, yanno?
I love that everyone still came together for Christmas tho, i was like poor Bobby and Athena </3
Madney reunion… sort of </3 but again…. I know how this ends lol. Also JJ and Kate reunion (criminal minds)
The kiss might be the one thing I truly disliked from the season because it doesn’t really do anything beyond being annoying.
WHY DOES EVERYONE USE BOBBY’S PAST AGAINST HIM WHEN THEY ARE ANGRYYYYYYYYYYYYY :(
Well I have a fear of sauna’s now (and stop signs… and exercising)
The mom that falls saving her daughters had me BAWLING!
Bobby and May’s relationship is everything to me! And ack I knew I didn’t like Jonah
I take back my original assumption of Buck having the worst luck. It’s Chimney. What the hell. Give this man a raise and a vacation… some amazing life insurance and some bubble wrap. How he is alive is beyond me!!
THE LAST EPISODE
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH <3
Toni getting married, and the drama about her missing Hen and Karen’s wedding. Buck’s face when Maddie texts Chim first. Bobby </3 was not ok, but EDDIE CAME THROUGH! And when he poured the whiskey out I was whooop whoooping out loud! THEN THE WEDDING I love Toni so much omg and everyone coming! PLUS no more Taylor :) hahahaha (sorry i just never liked her)
(Omg the maggots in the hair might have too the cake as the worst thing to happen… at least visually… for me)
SEASON SIX HERE I COME! You better be all about Buck like the pissy people on Reddit said you are! And y’all, send me strength for that mid season finale i have seen it dozens of times but this is gonna be different and I have never been so prepared to be unprepared for something in my life! O.o
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opens-up-4-nobody · 2 months
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#what do you call it when a mind is lacking in depth of m thought? is there a word for that?#because all my mind can do is spin in tiny circles. never push any further. no depth of thought#i cant even carry out this line of thought to completion in my head. i have to write it down like this or else it remains stuck in an eddy#its so frustrating. when my thoughts are pressured i spin so fast it feels like my head might pop but the thoughts never go anywhere#bc they just repeat the same god damn things all thr fucking time. they drag me around in circles. then when im feeling low or even like#normal. my head just feels empty and it freaks me out. i have no intersting thoughts to think. theres nothing behind my eyes#possibly its just my brain on 0cd. but how am i suppose to escape the spiral if its in my own head? i guess im just supposed to changr my#reaction to it. recognize what it is and let it go. but i dont like it#i just want to curl up on a warm tile floor. press myself into a quiet corner and not think anything#in an aquarium or a conservatory. specifically the conservatory in Columbus. i love that place#i went there for my birthday when i was like 12 bc i liked it so much. the botanically gardens and the butterflies and the stained glass#i dunno. i just like it there. ugh. im just tired#god. there was a really cool talk today and im always like im not that inattentive lol but then i cannot for the life of me follow a talk or#read a paper all thr way through. my short term working memory is just a tiny little cup. easy to overfill#so i miss mostly everything. its so frustrating#its all frustrating. whatever. back to the psychiatrist tomorrow. probably up thr lamicta1 dosage#bc im past where i was last time i had a reaction to it 💪#i just wish i wanted to draw. drawing just makes me tired and impatient rn#unrelated
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radmista · 1 year
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jesus fuck i feel bad for your poor girlfriend. just tell her you're a radfem
My gf knows I hold radical feminist views. Even before we've dated, I've talked openly and loudly about female liberation and sex based oppression, abortion access, hookup culture making young teens think theyre abnormal for not craving sex at 15, my thoughts on shaving, etc. She's even told me that talking about these things has helped her not feel the compulsion to shave her arms anymore.
She knows I'm a feminist and that I have radical views. The only thing I've never explicitly stated is that I'm gender critical of the trans movement as well (bc in general, this is social suicide and I have a career I want to protect). I have spoken about my gender critical views, I just don't call them that in conversation. Like I've ranted about the usage of terms like "boy clothes" and "boymode" to describe comfortable lounge clothing and that clothing has no gender. We've even debated about single sex spaces and even talked about JKR's funding of Beira's place. Like shockingly, we can disagree on things and still be together.
Idk what the point of your message really was. Is it "your poor gf" bc I complain about her very gendie/tumblr-q***r viewpoints? Or do you feel bc I'm a radfem it makes me a bad partner and that my gf is suffering by being partnered with me? I love her and want the best for her, but it doesn't stop me from being frustrated when she supports a movement that infringes on womens rights. I feel like I'm allowed to complain on my personal feminist tumblr about that lol
#the thing I appreciate a lot about her is that she does debate and hold discussion about various topcs with me#but what bothers me the most and just demonstrates how cult like the tq rainbow+ community is is how anti debate she is on those topics#we can talk about sex segreated spaces and mostly agree but then she has to mention TiM's and holds a 'no debate they're women' stance#and her defense of them is always so robotic or comes off as her quoting a stanza every 'supporter' has to say. ev#*even during our talks about abortion in her automated caveat about tq+ people she mentions tims being affected by the abortion ban#like they're not. but including them in everything is the preprogrammed response. and that is at the core of my complaints abt her stances#they aren't actually hers. its just rhe most progressive thing to believe and regurgitate. it frustrates me bc she is v intelligent#but she in general holds many libfem-y beliefs. maybe in the long run our relationship won't be sustainable idk thats a bridge for later#ik eventually I'll have to lay out my thoughts i don't tell her now and see what happens#I've come to terms that she may breakup with me over my gc radfem views.#I've come to terms she may break up with me over my views on the trans movement as she's a big supporter of it. thats her decision#but again. its a bridge for the future. and i will be respectful of her decision. I'm not entitled to a relationship or her love#anyway just rambling at this point. time for my meds lol.#anon#like am i a bad person for not telling her how i feel the tq movement is regressive af. i dont get the angle of this message#sorry if I'm missing the point of what you're trying to say to me
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holytrickster · 9 months
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sitting there like has my art gotten better over time or do I just add way too much unnecessary detail now
#but lineart becomes honestly really meditative for me at times especially if im adding texture to something#i will say at least i dont pick such ugly colors anymore. i used to always have reslly bright colors and then i thought it was too much#and overcorrected imo so everything was desaturated and boring#oh i also used to color in the lines for like every single color on the character? idk how to describe it but it was tedious#i like it on other people's art but i dont have the patience and i dont like how it looks when my lines are “cleaner”#sometimes i do miss how i used to not care if what i drew was “cringy”#but i think im coming back out of that considering all i draw is like. gay shit and elves and various iterations of myself and also my ocs#i should redraw some really really old art after what im working on maybe#i almost started working on a redraw of when i drew yavanna in likr 2017-18 but i dont like the design i gave her at all#minus the weird branch ears those were cool#mostly im just frustrated it still takes me hours to draw lol. i dont know why i get insecure about it or about art in general#i guess bc no one in my family really does so they have this idea im good at it#and i wanna grab them and shake them sometimes and explain all the reasons im actually not and all the mistakes i regularly make#i dont know if that makes any sense and i dont know why i struggle to just take the compliment#i guess because i know im not good enough at it for it to be a job? except thats not it either because ive almost always wanted to write#its very dumb and weird. especially considering i dont really draw for other people. i mean i like when people like my art but unless its#for somebody specific im not necessarily going to take it very hard at all if its not to their taste. i just do it because i enjoy it#and because there are things i only know how to express through writing or drawing. and when one doesnt work sometimes its the other#maybe i just get frustrated i cant be good at everything#its not realistic but i always end up wanting to do so many things and getting frustrated when i dont pick them up right away#because OF COURSE i dont#ok where was i going with this#its nearly 2am and my head is pounding again i dont even know what day this makes it. at least a week?#i dont know
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charlotteharlatan · 9 months
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Do you ever think about what would have happened if Mary Hodges (formerly Mary Loquacious) hadn’t interrupted Crowley and Aziraphale’s “intimate moment”?
Because I do. I think about it a lot.
First off, the way that this shot is set up is perfect. Mary - Mary who had a key role in the whole “Antichrist shuffle” fiasco, and who is a walking reminder of the approaching apocalypse that will separate Aziraphale and Crowley - is literally coming between them. The show is full of these beautifully simple, yet easy-to-miss moments that only last a few frames.
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Now, on its surface, this part of the scene mostly plays as humorous because Crowley and Aziraphale are sexless-by-default, non-human entities who just happen to come across to most humans as a very aesthetic queer couple. So naturally, Mary makes the same assumption as every other human that so much as glances in their direction, and isn’t that a laugh?
Except that…she’s not actually wrong about it being an intimate moment. Not just in the physical sense, although I think this is the closest we see them physically get in the whole first season (not counting being literally inside each other’s corporations, I suppose).
But it’s intimate in the emotional sense too, because Crowley is worried and stressed about having lost the Antichrist, and now on top of everything else he’s got Aziraphale calling him “nice” and poking at some very old wounds (if he’s so “nice” then why did he Fall?). And Crowley is also probably *frightened* - they’re inside a former Satanic convent that kept regular contact with not just Crowley himself, but also Hastur, and probably other demons too. For all Crowley knows, someone from his side could still be lurking about; they could overhear and get them both in big trouble.
And as if all that weren’t enough, I don’t think I’m imagining a healthy dose of frustration with Aziraphale in the mix either. Just a few minutes prior, the angel essentially tempted Crowley into miracling the paint stain out of his coat, and then broke their rules by saying “thank you” for it. Aziraphale has spent at least the last few centuries sending him some very mixed signals and we can see that Crowley is done with them dancing around each other. That game was more or less fine before, they had time, all the time in the world. But now, in just a few days, all the time in the world will be ENDING. And yet here’s Aziraphale, playing the same game as always, acting like nothing between them has changed, even though they both know better.
So yeah, it all comes to a head in that moment, and Crowley (sort of understandably) loses it a bit. He won’t actually hurt Aziraphale and they both know that, but he has to get across to the angel SOMEHOW that he’s experiencing some Big Feelings. And he doesn’t have a whole lot of options as to how to do that. He’s too worked up to communicate effectively. So he goes with the wall slam. This causes an emotionally charged situation which we’re primed to think will have an emotional payoff - the camera pulls in close, a dramatic transition, drawing us in to the tension of the moment right along with Crowley and Aziraphale.
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And then there’s Aziraphale, who…doesn’t defend himself at all. Aziraphale, who is kind but far from defenseless, who used to guard the gate of Eden with a flaming sword, who was supposed to fight in a platoon of angels in the final battle. He’s no pushover, and yet he lets himself get literally pushed over. It doesn’t even seem to occur to him to stop Crowley, not even as he’s wrinkling his precious coat.
And maybe this is just my read of this scene, but Aziraphale’s reaction to Crowley coming into his personal space is interesting in and of itself. He doesn’t act as if this is the first instance of Crowley being that close to him - and it is CLOSE. Their lips are centimeters apart. Their noses are touching.
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And one might well say that all of it happens so fast that Aziraphale is caught off guard and freezes up, but as so many have already pointed out about this scene, just after Mary interrupts he looks…blatantly longing, and then more than a bit put out.
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And after Crowley lets him go, he casually fixes his clothes and goes straight back to bickering. Which may be partially a defense mechanism, because they don’t have time to talk about what just happened, there clearly won’t be any emotional resolution right now. But really, wouldn’t “you go too fast for me” Aziraphale be more rattled if that were truly the first time they had crossed that physical boundary and shared space like this? He looks affected, certainly, but quickly shakes it off.
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And, to take it one step further: Aziraphale knows Crowley. He knows what words are likely to set him off. He has an established pattern of having Crowley do things for him, based on Aziraphale’s own prompting (see also: wordlessly asking Crowley to help Hamlet become a hit). Aziraphale does as much tempting to get Crowley to do “nice” things as Crowley does to get him to do “naughty” things. All of which is to say, Aziraphale may have actually been baiting Crowley here, but the bait is just a little too effective, and Aziraphale isn’t fully prepared for the intensity of the response he gets. But there’s a strong case to be made that by calling the demon “nice,” he’s looking to get a specific reaction out of Crowley. Again, not the healthiest form of communication, but it’s what they have in this context, because honesty would be too dangerous.
Which brings me back to my point: it IS an intimate moment, in more ways than Mary could have possibly realized, and what if she hadn’t walked in on them? How would Crowley have finished his sentence that got cut off, and how would Aziraphale have responded to it, to Crowley’s outburst of emotion, or to their proximity?
Maybe he would have gently and politely pushed Crowley away - but to me, something about his expression and body language says he wouldn’t have. Because Aziraphale is tired of dancing around this too, actually, and in the heat of the moment, he may just have closed the distance. Especially if they’ve had “intimate moments” before this one.
And between you and me, I think they did, and I think it was after Crowley saved Aziraphale and his books during the Blitz. It’s a solid explanation for the increased tension between them in the holy water scene.
Anyway. This meta has been sitting in my drafts since before the first trailer came out, S2 is only nine days away, and I’m clearly very normal about all of this.
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pedantic-poison · 6 months
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Rulebreaker | CS55
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pairing: fem brat!reader x brat tamer!carlos sainz jr
genre: smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, language, dom!carlos x brat!reader, spanking (mostly with hands, briefly with a belt), sir kink, degradation, a wee bit of praise, names used for reader (princesa, cariño, slut, good girl), fingering, unprotected p in v (use protection irl!!!), mention of safeword but no use of it, aftercare
requested: sort of based on an ask I got for another driver that I couldn't make it work for
word count: 5.3k
author's note: i hope y'all like this one! i've been working on this for ages now and it got really really long so as always feedback of any kind is much appreciated!
You knew you weren't supposed to.
You knew you really weren't supposed to.
But it had been weeks without seeing Carlos and at this point you felt like you were losing your mind, so you muster the strength to drag yourself upstairs to your bedroom.
Really it was Carlos' bedroom, since you were housesitting for him while he was gone. You weren't sure if that was making it better or worse - constantly being surrounded by his things, sleeping in his sheets, wearing his shirts because they smelled like him.
At least for right now, those last two were about to be very helpful, as you dropped yourself onto the still messy sheets you'd been sleeping in, inhaling the scent of him as you grabbed your vibe from your bedside table where you'd stashed it. You knew you weren't supposed to touch yourself, so you really didn't even know why you'd brought it in the first place, but you just needed some kind of relief - even without Carlos here to give it to you.
The fluffy pillows and sheets seemed to envelop you as you sank further in them, sighing with contentment as you started to trail your hands along your inner thighs, briefly teasing yourself through your panties before quickly discarding them, leaving you clothed only in an old t-shirt of Carlos'. His name left your lips in a breath as the vibrator made contact with your clit, tracing light circles around the bud before slowly applying more and more pressure.
You felt yourself getting wetter as you went, the shirt so oversized that it rested below your butt, meaning that when a drop of your arousal trailed down from your cunt, it landed on Carlos' shirt. It was so filthy that a moan tore out of you, harsh and unexpected, at the thought of your arousal mixing with the smell of him on the shirt, digging your face deeper into the pillow next to your head to inhale him as much as you could. Your back had started to bow off the bed, legs twitching around your hand as you fought to keep them open. Forcing your other hand to leave its spot latched onto the sheets at your side, you slowly sank a finger into yourself, just barely brushing that spot as you -
Heard your ringtone go off.
Huffing in frustration, you instinctively went to turn your phone off when you stopped to actually read the name on the screen. You dropped everything else you'd been doing, picking up the phone before it finished the third ring.
"Carlos!"
His chuckle came through the speaker first, deeper than usual, and a little bit scratchy, telling you that wherever he was (you'd lost track at this point), he'd just woken up. "Hi, cariño, how're you doing?"
"I'm fine, I miss you though," you inhaled deeper than you normally would've, the effort to catch your breath reminding you of what you'd just been doing, and just how much you were not supposed to be doing it. "A lot," you added belatedly, swallowing hard to try not to show your actions in your voice.
"I know, I miss you too. Are you taking care of yourself while I'm gone? Your voice sounds a little hoarse." He was only being sweet, but your mouth went dry at the question, mind racing to try and come up with a convincing enough excuse that- "Cariño? Are you still there?"
Shit. "Oh, um - yes! Sorry, I think the call cut out or something," you mumbled, hoping if you said it quickly enough he wouldn't think too hard about what you'd said. "But yeah, I think I might have a little cold. Nothing too bad, but my throat's been a little," you cleared your throat with a small (and hopefully convincing) cough, "sore for most of the day."
"Oh, well I'm sorry to hear that, princesa," Carlos cooed sympathetically, but there was a slight edge to his voice that you found a little odd, almost mocking. "You know how I hate it when you lie to me." Confused at how he'd found you out, you freeze, your lack of a response prompting him to explain, "I can hear your vibrator buzzing through the phone. Not that I needed that to tell what you've been doing, but that makes it pretty obvious, no?"
Your eyes went wide, darting to the vibe where it sat, abandoned and still buzzing away, where you'd thrown it down on the sheets. Shutting it off quickly, you shoved it away under the sheets, like that would make any sort of difference when he'd already heard it and knew what it was.
"Carlos, I-"
"Honestly, cariño, did you really think I wouldn't notice?" His voice had gone hard, still gruff and deep from having slept, and that ache in your core that you'd temporarily forgotten about returned tenfold at the sound of it. "Did you forget how much time I've spent memorizing all the little noises you make? The way your breathing changes when you're close? The way you either talk too slow or too fast because you can't think straight? The scratch in your voice when you've had your mouth hanging open while you moan?"
You could only clench your thighs in response, inhaling shakily at his filthy words. The idea of him being so occupied with thoughts of you and the ways you sounded when he touched you these past few weeks made you flush with heat, feeling it spread down your neck and chest, under the fabric of his shirt.
"You only had to wait a few more days, and you couldn't even manage that, could you? So disobedient, princesa," his breathing had deepened, and you realized with a start that your hand had returned to the apex of your thighs, trailing along the hem of the shirt laying atop your bare legs where they were tucked under you.
"I - I'm sorry," you finally breathed out. "I couldn't help it. You've just been gone for so long, and your rules are so unfair." Your voice took on a whine as you spoke, flopping down onto your back dramatically as you sighed. You'd been caught, so there was no real point in trying to behave anymore.
Carlos chuckled again, this time much darker than the last, "I know you think they're unfair, princesa. I can tell from how much you complain about them, and from how often you break them," voice tightening, like he was restraining himself. The sound of it sent your hand beneath the fabric of his t-shirt, creeping back towards your still exposed, still weeping cunt.
"Then maybe those rules should change," your fingers, still damp with your arousal, grazed your clit. "Since they don't seem to be working too well," the words rushed out of just a little too fast as you began to circle the bud again.
"Watch it, cariño. There's a reason you're not in charge," he warned, the exercise of authority making you whimper. "Now, be a good girl and get those fingers out of your tight little pussy."
You took a breath.
"Or what?"
Carlos' end of the call fell silent for a moment longer than you expected.
"You are playing with fire here, princesa."
The phone line clicked, and the call ended.
You tossed your phone to the end of the bed, frustrated in every way imaginable. If he was going to be such an asshole, the least he could do was let you get off to the sound of his voice while he was gone. Now, you were even more desperate than before, and in a few days' time when he returned, you knew he'd punish you.
A devilish thought occurred to you. If you were already in trouble, you might as well enjoy it then, right? Get as much out of the time before he came home as you possibly could.
You fell asleep right there later that night, satisfied (for now) and surrounded by the smell of Carlos and you mingling on his sheets. When the sun woke you, you'd slept so hard that for a brief moment the emptiness of the bed surprised you, before remembering that you still had four more days to go. And just like that, the frustration returned.
Completely undaunted by the disobedience now, you reached right down between your thighs, touching yourself to the thoughts of Carlos that had swum through your mind last night. You were so desperate.
So absorbed by the feeling of it.
So blind to anything but chasing that pleasure.
You didn't even hear the front door unlock.
Or the drop of a bag inside the doorway.
The sound of shoes walking through the living room.
Padding up the stairs.
Stopping in the threshold of the room.
Of his room.
"Dios, you are such a fucking brat."
The sound ripped you away from your fantasies, gasping as you sat straight up and nearly screaming out of shock. Carlos stood at the foot of your bed - his bed - watching you, dark eyes contrasting with the stark white shirt he wore, the first few buttons undone, and the sleeves rolled up his forearms. His hair was mussed (though probably not as badly as yours), like he'd barely slept on the plane, and his hands, hidden by the pockets of his dress pants, were undoubtedly clenched, judging by the bulging veins in his forearms. He looked furious.
He was furious. Had been ever since that phone call with you, after hearing your voice, breathy and full of attitude. He kept being furious during the pointless meetings he had to sit through for hours about god knows what, during the entire plane ride where his head swam with thoughts of you and what he would do to you when he got his hands on you, and during his drive back to his house where his knuckles went white from his grip on the wheel. And now, looking at you, sprawled in his bed, clad only in one of his shirts, moaning his name, he couldn't hold back the intense, primal feelings of possession that flooded him. With your face hot and breaths coming fast, eyes hazy with sleep and lust, and legs spread wide in front of him, leaving your pussy on display, glistening like you were welcoming him home, he knew he would've ruined you anyways, even without your constant disobedience. You couldn't follow his rules because you needed him that badly. Needed to feel his presence even when he wasn't there. He certainly had no issue with reminding you just how much he owned you.
"Carlos... you're... home early," you mumbled, out of breath from the shock of his arrival and the buildup of pleasure it ruined.
"Is that all you have to say for yourself?" He prowled closer to the end of the bed, and you subconsciously drew yourself closer to the headboard. You swallowed hard, clamping your jaw shut and refusing to give him any sort of answer. That would only make it worse for you. But you'd long since given up on staying out of trouble with Carlos.
That certainly wasn't new information to Carlos, either, but it still grated against him when you remained silent, the stubborn set of your brows as you tried your damnedest to stare him down only stoking his need to put you in your place. Glancing down to your still spread legs, Carlos allowed his eyes to trail hungrily over you once more, before reaching forward and grasping your ankle, tugging harshly. The force of it surprised a yelp out of you, bringing a grin to Carlos' face as he situated you at the end of the bed, legs spread to make room for him between them as he stood over you.
"Oh, princesa... you do know you're in trouble, no?" Fingertips grazed over your cheek, trailing down the column of your neck. When you remained silent, the light touch of fingertips became his full palm, hand wrapping around your throat, slowly applying the tiniest bit of pressure. "It's cute, this little act of defiance you put on. Makes me want to fuck the fight right out of you." The grip tightens briefly, before disappearing altogether.
Then your face presses into the bedsheets, Carlos flipping you onto your front. He does it so easily, manhandling you with such minimal effort that it sends a thrum of heat through you. Strong, large hands roughly grope your ass cheeks, spreading them apart so he can see your cunt clearly.
"Such a needy little slut," he tsks, laughing wryly as your pussy clenches from the cold of the air and the pure filth of his words. And then, the heat of his hands and body are gone. You whine, knowing that with the mood he was in, he would make you wait and wait and wait before he followed through on his promise and actually fucked the defiance out of you (or at least tried to).
Turning your head to the side, you watch as Carlos settles himself on the side of the bed, cock already visibly hard through his trousers. "Get up," he tells, not asks, you, voice stern. The doting, adoring Carlos that you loved had taken a backseat to this almost predatory side of him, and you had to admit you loved it just as much. Opting to listen (for once) you stand up from the bed. "Good girl," he hums, pleased, "now strip for me." It's an easy enough task, shedding his shirt and letting it drop carelessly to the floor. His eyes don't leave your body for a moment, raking over your naked figure as if he'd never seen you before. Wordlessly, he patted his thigh, beckoning you to him, and you went willingly. You knew what he was telling you to do, but you still optimistically went to straddle him, earning you a swift smack to the thigh you had raised up onto the bed. "You know exactly what you're supposed to do right now, cariño. Don't make me tell you."
The contact had ratcheted up your awareness, feeling his every breath as you laid yourself across Carlos' lap, ass in the air and hands already gripping onto the bedsheets in front of you, knowing what was coming. "There, was that really so hard? Always wanting to cause trouble," he mused, hands caressing your ass again. "Always so big and brave in the beginning," his left hand traveled up your spine, tracing its path to the base of your neck. "But by the time I'm done with you, when I have you begging and shaking and crying for me, you always remember who's in charge."
The hand at the base of your neck grasped the hair there, yanking your head up and back so he could whisper into your ear. "You remember your safeword, mi amor?" he asked, checking in on you before actually starting anything.
"Yes, sir" you managed, speaking for the first time since you'd first seen him at the foot of the bed. He nodded, placing a kiss to your temple before shoving your head back down into the sheets.
Returning his left hand to the small of your back, while his right groped your ass, Carlos' voice resumed its darker timbre. "I spent a lot of time thinking about what kind of punishment you deserve for your little stunt over the phone." The thought of Carlos stewing in anger and lust for hours and hours making you shiver. "But that was before I came home to find you, knuckles deep in this needy little hole," he lets his fingers brush just barely against your entrance before retreating. "Same rules as usual, princesa: you count out loud for me, and if you miss one, we start over. You tell me when you're close, and if you come without my permission, we start over. Understood?"
Your nod earned you a sharp pinch on your cheek from where his hand had been tracing circles. "Yes, sir," you breathed out quickly, knowing by now what he was looking for.
"Good." With one final, gentle swipe of his hand, you feel his right hand leave your body, tensing in its absence. You feel its impact land, firmly, but not too harshly - yet.
"One," you breathe out, head tilted to the side to ensure he hears you clearly. He lands another spank. "Two." Harsher this time. "Three." Despite bracing yourself, you still flinch with every smack, body jolting as the sound echoes in the otherwise silent room. "Four." Your voice has already grown weaker, breathier. Heat rises where the blood has rushed to your stinging skin, already sensitive. "Five," he lands the next slap as you're inhaling to brace yourself, speeding up suddenly. "S-six, ah." Without meaning to, you squirm in his lap, earning you another quick slap that shocks a gasp out of you.
"Stop moving, princesa, or I will tie you down and make you take everything I give you," he grits out. "Got it?"
"Y-yes, sir."
"And what number was that?"
For a brief moment, your mind scrambles, distracted and overwhelmed. "S-seven?" It comes out as more of a question than an answer, and you cringe at the uncertainty of your own voice.
"You sure?" his hand stills on your ass, making your panic grow. But you can hear the lilt of his voice, can tell that he's trying to throw you off.
"Yes, sir," you answer, more confident this time.
"Good girl," he praises, but it's short lived, as another smack lands.
"Eight." The spanks are harder than they initially were, building in intensity, your skin aflame from his rough touch. "Nine." You're doing your best not to wriggle, hands clenched in the sheets like you're fighting yourself to stay put, but that doesn't stop the shakes wracking through your body. "Ten." Relief floods your body, knowing that, on a normal day, this is where Carlos stops. At this point he's gotten you drenched, arousal slicking your thighs, and part of you wonders if you've left a damp spot on his trousers. That little relief goes out the window when you feel his hand against you again, landing two harsh spanks in quick succession. "Eleven," you heave, "twelve."
The sound of Carlos' belt clinking as he removes it makes you freeze. "Carlos?" you question, voice small and unsure.
"I told you, cariño, the punishment I had planned for you at first was before I found you touching yourself, again." His left hand wraps around the front of your throat, bringing your torso up so he can speak directly into your ear once again. "The punishment needs to fit the crime, and you've been very, very bad," he coos, grazing your ass ever so slightly with the belt in his right hand. You shiver. "I'm gonna give you two with this, and then we're done with the spanking, alright, cariño?"
After a moment, you nod, and the slight tick of a pressure increase on your throat reminds you to speak your answer. "O-okay."
The leather of his belt drags against your inflamed flesh, before he pulls his hand back. He allows your head to return to the bed, resting it back against the sheets, and you hear him wrapping the belt around his right hand.
When the belt cracks against your ass, you cry out, body lurching forward, nearly leaping out of Carlos' lap before he grabs you by the hip, holding you in place. "Thirteen," you whimper out, voice breaking. Carlos' free hand rubs soothing circles against your hip, calming you down from the jolt of the impact. "Fuck, fourteen." Your breathing has gone ragged, chest heaving in an uneven, staccato pattern. You feel Carlos throwing your body around again, tossing you onto your back on the bed as you try to catch your breath.
He stands over you again, a predatory glint in his eyes, not giving you time to recover before sliding a finger straight inside of you. It punches the air out of you, your moan silent without air in your lungs to put any sound into it. Carlos chooses a rapid pace, aided by how wet you've become, and the squelch of him pressing a second digit into you is the most obscene sound you've ever heard.
"God, you look so fucking good like this, princesa. Shaking around my fingers," he curls them, hard, to make his point, grinning at the way your body reacts to the touch. "Such a desperate little slut, aren't you? My desperate little slut."
The sting of his palm landing on your inner thigh forces your eyes open. "Yes, sir - oh, fuck- only for you," you squeak out. You realize with a start that there are tears forming in your eyes, most likely from your punishment, though the way your building pleasure mixes with the pain only intensifies the feeling. The tension in your belly goes taught as Carlos' thumb begins drawing circles on your clit, arching into his touch. Everything you're feeling is so overwhelming, you almost forget yourself. "C-close, sir, I'm - ah - close."
"Yeah? You wanna come, cariño?" His eyes glint at the sound of your pleas, incoherent as they may be. "Too bad," he growls, pulling his fingers out of you as you whine at the loss of contact, earning you another light smack to your inner thigh. "Don't be greedy, amor."
"I - I'm sorry, sir," you sob out, chest heaving for breath.
Rough hands grip you by the waist and harshly yank you to the edge of the bed, flipping you onto your stomach and letting your legs hang off the bed, toes just barely skimming the ground. Carlos traces patterns on the red, raw skin of your ass, and you flinch away from the feeling without meaning to. In response, Carlos digs his hand into the hair at the base of your neck, tugging you up to speak directly into your ear.
"I'm going to fuck you now, cariño, and you're going to take everything I give you, or you don't get to come, got it?"
"Y-yes, sir."
"You going to take it like a good girl, princesa?"
"Yes, sir, yes, whatever you want, I'll be good," you fought to keep the needy edge out of your voice, not wanting to sound too demanding of him.
"Good girl," Carlos left a series of searing kisses down your neck, trailing onto your shoulder and down your back as he let you fall back down onto the bed. He hadn't even fucked you yet and you had already gone completely limp, unable to hold up your own body weight.
A large, warm hand splays across your lower back as his lips reach it, touch gentle but firm as he holds you to the bed, standing to his full height again as he yanks his trousers and boxers down just enough to pull himself out.
"Look so beautiful like this, princesa, such a pretty little slut for me," Carlos rasps out, voice low and gravelly, and you can tell just from the sound of it that he's stroking himself. Trying to make you squirm, testing to see if you'll whine at the lack of attention, or do that thing where you wiggle your ass at him to try to get him inside you. But at least for the time being, you're done misbehaving. You need him too badly to risk it being taken away again.
"Just for you, sir. Only you," you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear so he doesn't think you're demanding anything, throwing a glance over your shoulder that you hope strikes the right balance between obedience and seduction.
Based on the way his eyes darken and the hand spread on your back presses done just the tiniest bit more firmly, you're pretty sure you succeeded.
You know you did when he starts to slide into you, eyes staying on yours as both of his hands land on your waist. The feeling of him pushing into you, on top of the thought of just how much of you his hands manage to cover, has your head dropping back down onto the bed with a moan.
Carlos' mouth tilts up in a grin at how quickly you fold, how immediately you become pliant once his dick is in you. Hell, he hasn't even bottomed out yet, and you're already squirming and whining and clawing at the sheets. "Taking me so well, princesa," he coos, just as he snaps his hips flush with yours, filling you up the last few inches suddenly. The combination of him completely filling you, and the praise makes your head spin, and he knows it. It's why he knows to hold back the praise, to mix it in with the degradation, because that makes it all the more potent when he finally gives it. When you finally earn it. Plus, you get off on disobeying him too much for him to not make you work for it - otherwise, you'd have turned into a little monster by now. The thought makes him grin further to himself, thinking that at least you're his little monster.
He knows your body too well. Carlos can tell from the way you're squirming that you're beyond desperate for him to move, but that you're trying even more desperately to be good for him, to hold still, to take what he gives you and not demand anything more. Kisses trail down your back and shoulders, and even though you can feel the smile on his lips, you don't have the mental strength to process what it means right now. Carlos likes it when you have to try like this, likes that he can do this to you, can make you this needy for him, and that despite all of that, your need to please him, to be good for him, overrides your own desire for pleasure. For all of your talk and pretended disobedience, the moment he's in you, you submit to him completely. When he thinks about it too hard, it makes his cock throb inside you.
The sound of your whimpers draws Carlos back out of his thoughts, the noises escaping despite your best efforts. "Being a good little slut now that you're full of my cock, huh? Fuck, princesa, I love those pathetic little noises you make." He bends over you again to speak directly into your ear, and you whine at the way it makes him shift inside you. "I want you to let me hear every single one, cariño. Don't hold back on me, no?"
"I w-won't, sir. I won't, promise," you babble. At this point, you were willing to say damn near anything as long as it meant he would start moving.
"Good girl," he purrs, staying bent over you as he slowly pulls out until just the head of his cock remains inside you. Again, he pauses there for a moment, relishing the way you whimpered as he moved. Then, after he's had his fill of making you squirm in need, he thrusts back in, hard. It knocks the breath out of you, forcing a sharp cry from your mouth at the sudden and harsh way he fills you back up. He continues the pace like that, pulling out slow and thrusting back in with as much force as he can, hips slapping your already raw and sensitive ass when they meet yours.
You keep your promise to Carlos, letting every little sound he elicits from you out unabashedly, your small ah-ah's turning almost into shouts each time his hips are flush with yours. His hot breath on your neck and his broad, firm chest pressed to your back make it impossible to think about anything other than Carlos, Carlos, Carlos. The way his body cages yours in while he manhandles you, pulling your hips to where he wants them, has your moans ripping out of your chest with even more force. As Carlos starts to snap his hips faster, not pulling out all the way in favor of increasing his pace, each thrust punches noises out of you, becoming increasingly embarrassing the more worked up he gets you.
"Fuuuck, that's it, cariño, let me hear you, let me hear how good I make you feel," he encourages, one hand snaking into the hair at the base of your skull to force your face out from its hiding place in the bedsheets. "Wanna hear how much you like it when I fuck you like this. You like this, princesa? You like taking my cock like a good little slut?"
You can only whine desperately, nodding as best you can with Carlos' grip on your hair tightening. "Yeah? Say it, then, princesa. Tell me how much you love taking my cock."
It takes you a moment to process his words, mind feeling hazy from the lust and from returning to the brink of your orgasm, and the delay has Carlos fucking into you just the slightest bit harsher. "Fuck! I - I like it! I love t-taking your cock, sir, love b-being your s-slut, please," you gasp out the last word, the air forced from your lungs by the combination of the force of his thrusts and his other hand landing on your clit.
"Please what? Use your words, princesa." At first, the only response he gets is your high-pitched squeal as his fingers press harsh circles into your clit. "Come on, cariño, you can do it, use your words and tell me what my little slut wants."
"P-please, sir, please let me come, please sir, please," you babble, words becoming incoherent shortly after, devolving into whimpers and keens that resemble words like please and sir over and over again.
"Aw, look at you, cariño, using your words and asking so sweetly," he coos, causing your face to flush with heat even further at the mixture of praising and teasing words. "Alright, princesa, you can come. Come all over my cock for me, yeah? Come all over me so I can fill you up, wanna feel you clenching around me when I come in you," Carlos begins to ramble. Getting closer and closer, he tips over the edge as you come around him, walls squeezing tight around his pulsating cock as it throbs in you, marking you from the inside out.
Carlos doesn't pull out right away, basking in the feel of you wrapped around him, head resting between your shoulder blades as he gropes your ass. Occasionally, he squeezes particularly hard, and you whimper from the sensitivity, drawing a deep chuckle out of him that reverberates against the bare skin of your back. Carlos begins leaving kisses down the line of your spine, slowly drawing out of you.
Your body sags even further into the bed, completely spent, and you jolt away from him when you feel two large fingers at your entrance. With his other hand, Carlos grips your hip, holding you in place, as he watches his cum drip out of you, slowly pushing it back in with his fingers. "Can't let this go to waste, cariño. Got to make sure you remember who's in charge, no?"
You nod weakly, no energy or desire left to fight him (for now). Once Carlos is satisfied with his reminder to you, he rises, gently pulling you off of the bed and into his arms. He scoops you up easily, cradling you as he walks to the bathroom and gets the water running, kissing your head softly and murmuring praise as he sits on the edge of the tub, holding you to him tightly. Your body curls into the warmth of him, allowing yourself to be cared for since you're not even sure you could stand on your own right now. He says something about not falling sleep just yet, and then he's lifting you into the bath, smiling fondly at the pout you throw his way when he stops holding you. "Don't worry, cariño, I'm not going anywhere," Carlos hums, slipping in behind you and pulling you to his chest. "I'm staying right here."
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angel-of-the-moons · 7 months
Text
Reversal
Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader
TW/CW: NSFW, Smut, Sex, Sex toys, Top(?) Reader, Bottom(?) Miguel, Reader being Nasty, Size Kink, Height Difference, Overstimulation (almost), Edging(?), Canon event: Miguel likes it up the ass from time to time
MINORS DNI: I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME
A/N: Blame thank @oharaludes for this (Also I lied I should be asleep but I stayed up to write this now instead of tomorrow because akhdlhslhflhohofnsondlndlnc I couldn't afford to lose the spark™)
(Any Spanish spoken is in italics and is largely translated by Google. Header does not indicate reader's race. I really need to get more creative at making these asdfghjkl)
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Miguel O'Hara was a man who had to be in control at all times. He had to oversee who went on what mission, who to let into the Society, who to hunt down, what universes to monitor, which anomalies threatened the safety of the multiverse...
He was not known for willingly relinquishing his control.
But, being in control all the time, bearing all that weight had limitations. Sometimes, it just became too much and you would need to let it go for a bit, get the weight off your back and relax.
But then... Miguel had you.
You were probably the only respite Miguel had in the multiverse. And you were right under his nose the entire time. He convinced himself to go back to his universe, to visit his brother. He missed him.
But... he went back...
Just to find you. You were spunky, playful, and annoyingly gorgeous. And you happened to be one of Gabriel's newest best friends.
Poor Gabriel had a heart attack when he swung by your apartment to drop off the computer he was fixing for you, just to walk in and see you and Miguel on the couch in a rather compromising position.
You told Miguel you swore that his brother's brain exploded when he almost fainted.
But hey! Your computer worked again!
Not too long after, you decided to make it official. Official as in "he told you everything" official.
Gabriel just made you two swear you'd lock your front door next time.
Right now however, the nostalgia of that day lost its novelty as exhaustion and frustration crept into his body as he dragged his feet into your apartment, unlocking the door with your security code and letting himself in.
There you were. Gorgeous as the day he first saw you
One of his shirts hung off your shoulder, and down past your thighs. He couldn't resist the smile that snaked its way onto his face when he smelled you.
"Ah, Miguel! How is your universe saving thingy going, amor?" You said, flinging your arms around him as he gripped you tight, burying his nose in your hair to inhale the soft scent of you.
Coffee, chocolate, and strawberries. That's what you always smelled like.
"Exhausting." He sighed loosing his grip on you just enough to look down at you. You were so goddamn short.
It was cute, honestly.
You frowned up at him, those gorgeous lips of yours quirking down. "Ven y siéntate?"
Miguel let you pull him by the hand to the couch, where you sat down first and patted your lap.
Miguel smiled again as he accepted your silent request, lying on your couch (though mostly curled up due to his sheer size alone) and laid his head in your lap.
Your fingers dove into the soft chocolate locks on his head, massaging his scalp with your nails and he made a soft groan of contentment at the sensation.
"Now, tell me about it?" You hummed.
"Later... right now I want to relax. Olvida todas esas cosas." He mumbled softly, closing his eyes, his thumb caressing your knee softly.
"Just want to relax." He repeated, turning his face into the plus of your thighs.
He could smell you. And he knew that you knew it.
And you were never one for subtlety.
But you were one for playing coy when it suited you.
"Aw... Miggy." You purr, combing through his hair softly. "You really do need to relax, honey."
"I can think of a way." He growled, turning his head again, so he can place a kiss to the top of your thigh, making you giggle.
"Nuh-uh. How about we switch things up today, hm?" You grin.
He looked up at you.
"¿Qué quieres decir?"
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He should have known.
Of course.
Of course you were waiting for the right moment to breach this subject.
And of course you knew he'd say yes, he almost always said yes to you.
It was... odd. Not unpleasant. But odd. Normally he tops in bed, pinning you down, biting marks into your skin, sucking hickeys here and there as he pounded you into the mattress until your eyes crossed and you were a babbling incoherent mess.
And of course, you also had everything planned out.
Because when you had a plan, you had all your bases covered.
Like right now.
Somehow, you talked him into letting you top him for the night. Taking control from him and just helping him enjoy it. And you assured him he would.
You anticipated the holes he'd tear into your bed with his talons, the curses he'd spit...
What you weren't expecting though, was the soft whimpers and deep groans coming from him. How absolutely pliant he became while you fucked him with the strap-on you had secured to your waist.
You would continue to apply more lube as you fucked him here and there, stopping to grip his hips for stability, the pillow under him helping keep him angled for you.
You half wanted to have him get on all fours so you could fuck him that way, but it would ruin the other part of your plan.
"So good for me." You purr, running your fingers up his abs, tracing the small scars he's picked up over the years.
You jerked your hips upwards, not hitting his prostate but enough to make his eyes roll and him snarl through hissed teeth.
When he cursed, he wanted it to come out harsher. He meant for it to sound more... authoritative.
But all that came out was a whiny, breathy gasp.
"¡Mierda!"
You giggled, and stilled your hips just a moment to grab the bottle of lube, squirting some onto your hand as you wrapped around his throbbing length.
Not that you ever needed to use lube when you jerked him off, the man leaked so much precum that he could just use it on its own.
But, you liked the lewd sounds it helped make when you drag your fist up and down his cock.
He was so big you could barely wrap your hand around him.
You dragged your hand up his shaft slowly, leisurely tracing each vein as you rolled your hips in a consistent pace, not quite giving him the relief he wanted, but edging him just enough that he slowly just became undone under you, like you had so many times under him.
"Awww, cariño..." You tut, jerking him slowly, twisting your hand as you went to the angry and weeping head of his cock, rubbing your thumb over the slit and applying a bit of pressure there.
"Tell me what you want, baby." You grin, giving another sharp thrust, sending a sharp bolt of pleasure up his spine that hit him so hard he audibly gasped and you could hear it as his talons shredded your bedsheets.
"¡Mierda!" He groaned, the noise deep and rumbling and oh so needy that the very sound sent a fresh wave of heat straight to your cunt.
"Use your words, honey." You hum, arching your hips again as his thighs flexed, the muscles taut as he let out a shaky exhale, one arm going to drape over his face.
You clicked your tongue and reached up, swatting his arm aside so you could see that gorgeous face of his.
"Let me see you, mi amor." You say to him, making one long stroke, followed by a few short, hard ones, making him cry out again.
"Again, use your words, baby. What d'you want?"
"Fucking--" He growled. "I want to cum! Mierda I want to--"
You frowned again and let his cock go, slowing your pace to an agonizing crawl.
"Miguel..." You scold.
"P-Por favor." He whined, tipping his head back so you could see his Adams apple bob as he swallowed.
"Thaaaaat's it. I have something for you..." You say, reaching for the small velvet bag that rolled to your knee thanks to the weight dipping the bed.
He looked up at you, his pupils blown wide and his irises glowing a gorgeous crimson as you pulled out a small vibrator.
You smirked with satisfaction when you saw his cock jump, a new bead of precum dripping down onto his abs, adding to the rivulets that flowed down his sides already.
You turned it on and it buzzed to life in your hand, surprisingly loud for such a tiny thing. But damn, did you get your money's worth. You turned it off again and pressed it at the base of his cock, where the shaft met his taut and heavy balls.
"All right, since you asked nicely, I'll allow it."
The moment you turned it back on he dropped his head back with a sound that you swore would shred any other man's vocal chords, especially when you started thrusting where you knew he so desperately wanted it.
You grinned and bit your lip, thrusting up and hard, guiding the toy up and down his bobbing length, not giving him any relief.
You could tell by how tense his abs were and how desperately his hands pawed at your bedsheets that he was close.
"Go on and cum for me, cariño." You purr seductively; you punctuated every word with a thrust.
"Just." Smack!
"Like." Smack!
"This." Smack!
You dragged the small vibrator up to the tip of his cock, and thrust hard one last time, as he practically bellowed out your name as he came, hot ropes shooting out of his dick and coating his abs, parts of his chest, and completely coating the head of the vibrator.
You giggle and switch it off, and pull the strap out of him slowly, amused at how badly he was twitching for you.
"My idea was a good one, huh?" You say smugly.
Without looking at you, he sticks up his index finger.
"This time." He said, his eyes still closed as he came down from his high, his belly painted white.
"Pff. Hey, hey Miguel. Miguel. Hey. Heyyy!" You giggle, looking down at him, tapping his thigh to get him to answer you.
When Miguel finally looked at you, he had a soft scowl on his face, which immediately melted away when he watched you wrap your lips around the head of that damned toy, and lick every bit of his cum off the tip, making direct eye contact the whole time, humming like you were simply sucking on a piece of candy.
"¡Mierda!"
You shrieked and giggled when he pinned you down, spreading your legs with his thighs as he bit down on your shoulder, growling.
"My turn now, chica."
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whoreforharlow · 11 months
Text
Lost and Found
Author's Note: An angsty smutty Alpha!Jack fic inspired by some discourse I saw on both @19crimes and @killatravtramp blogs over the last few days about some ABO and alpha energy Jack, so S/O to them and their anons.
Warnings: cursing, unprotected p in v intercourse, a tiny bit of oral (both f and m receiving), size!kink, sub!reader, dom!jack, hair pulling, daddy!kink, dirty talk, choking, breeding!kink, forced orgasms, mentions of bodily fluids, 18+, minors dont interact. Think that's it 🤔
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The heavy thud of the front door alerted Jack that you were home, still pissed it seemed. He was laid on the couch, Survivor reruns idly playing on the TV screen as he mostly attended to emails on his phone. He listened to you from where he was: the clatter of your keys on the entryway table, the clicking of your heels exchanged for light scraping of slides, the opening of the fridge door, the clink of what must have been a glass on the marble countertop, the glugging of what he was positive was your chilled wine, the momentary silence before a deep sigh, the second round of glugging before the scrape of slides disappearing down the hallway.
Jack released his own sigh, his feelings conflicting within him. He was still upset, assumed you probably were too, yet it took every ounce of energy to be angry with you. The two of you had been at odds for the last few days, small things that turned into big arguments. You two were frustrated with your own personal worlds and instead of seeking comfort in each other, you turned your shared apartment into a war zone. You both worked in high positions in your jobs, but that doesn't make either of you exempt from being denied by powers even greater than yourselves. That's how it ended up coming home with you both—wanting to assert control and dominance over anything, including each other.
You and Jack always had a very good dynamic going for you both. You both easily fell into masculine and feminine positions in your household, the two of you having a beautiful dance around each other that was completely in sync.
You weren't always like that, having lived on your own for so long, you had slipped into a masculine energy. You were the provider, the protector, the strength of your one person household. Being with Jack had shifted your priorities, falling into a softer, more feminine position, finding that you can trust Jack for those aforementioned traits. His presence let you breathe, knowing everything would be taken care of whenever he was around.
Over the last few days, your job had been demanding more and more from you. Your upset with Jack meant you sought comfort in yourself from the stress. The silent treatment took its toll on you, feeling like you needed to build up those walls again of being your own support. After two years of nothing less than princess treatment, you felt drained playing both roles again. You missed coming to him with your problems and him promising to take care of it, you missed discussing the future with him and planning out your legacy together, you missed coming home to flowers and a warm bath waiting for you.
Little did you know, Jack was also feeling the loss of your warmth. Missing your nurturing spirit, your tenderness, your sweetness after long days split between interviews, meetings, and studio time. Eating his meals alone at the kitchen island made him miss the nights you stayed up late just to spend an hour with him, he missed holding you close as you told him whatever was bothering him would pass, he missed your bubbly excitement as you showed him videos of silly puppies on tiktok, he missed you insisting that he should be the little spoon as you struggled to wrap yourself around his larger frame.
Today was going on day six of the silent treatment, and it was killing you both. Neither one of you could remember what you were upset about, but just knew you didn't want to crack first. For the most part, the two of you hadn't really seen each other, purposely so. You both took on more time at work, the cause of the disruption in your home, rather than the peace of each other's arms. The only time you two really interacted was when you were playing tug-a-war in your sleep over the blanket, if that even counts.
But there was something about tonight, the sigh of defeat that exhaled from your body that broke him. He lifted himself from the couch, following where he suspected you to be, his suspicions correct as he saw the steam escaping the bathroom door that was ajar. He slowly walked in to see your back to him in the glass shower, your forehead pressed against the tile on the wall as you let the spray wash over you. It broke his heart, knowing that on exhausting days like this you like to take a nice bath, a task that he added to his list of personal responsibilities. He felt like he failed you this week, his role of provider and care taker severely neglected, your slouched posture a testament to your physical and mental exhaustion.
Your ears perked up, hearing some rustling coming from beyond the sound of the rushing water inside of the glass cage you were currently in. You tried to ignore it, but the knot in your chest wouldn't let you, you tasked yourself with suppressing your sob. You took a deep breath of the steamy air, allowing it to soften the muscles of your lungs as you released a shaky breath. You decided against turning around, hoping he would leave soon so you could be at peace in the bathroom. Another sob attempted to escape your lips as you repeat that thought in your head. How you had come to the thought where you felt more peaceful without him than with him, even though it wasn't true, broke your heart and caused silent tears to stream down your cheeks.
Jack opened a drawer where you kept many unscented candles, always insisting that they were a blank canvas to not take away the shine of your choice essential oil, grabbing a few and the lighter. He began placing the lit candles around the room, making sure to not miss the corners because he knew the small fear you had when the corners seemed too dark. He grabbed a small rose and vanilla shower steamer: a small, circular, scent brick that can be used to turn a hot shower into a spa experience by releasing the fragrance. He turned off the lights, the new experience of the softer light catching you off guard as you blinked your teary eyes a few times, your hands coming to rest against the wall on either side of you as you resisted the urge to look up.
Undressing himself, he opened the glass door of the shower, turning on the second shower head and dropping the steamer under the hot water. You felt his body close to yours as he stood behind you in front of your shower head, the hot water no longer hitting your reddening skin. You stood there frozen, unsure of what to do, the tears still silently falling from your eyes. For a long moment, neither of you did anything, just standing close to each other in the steam. You wanted to play it cool, turn around and side step him, grab your towel and walk out of the bathroom, pretend you didn't even notice him, but you were frozen.
You felt a warm hand placed on each of yours that were still placed on the wall, his body finally coming to press against yours from behind as you felt his forehead drop to your shoulder.
"I'm so sorry, baby" you hear his voice crack, the vulnerability and sorrow in it. You released a loud sob, your body no longer holding back as you cried as hard as you've been wanting to. It was a cry from deep within: a cry of sadness, of loneliness, of frustration, of anger, of guilt, of hurt, of longing. Your body trembled as he wrapped his arms around you, turning you around so he could hold you properly under the shower spray. In your own trembling, you felt the heaving of his chest, the unevenness of his breathing, the slight wetness on your forehead, all alluding to the fact that he was crying too.
"I'm so sorry, too" you begin, but are quickly shushed.
"You have nothing to be sorry about. I'm the one that should have ended this fight sooner." Jack was always the one to claim responsibility in the relationship. He was never one to play the blame game, he believed that was childish,"little boy shit" as he would always say. If he was going to be the leader of the relationship, then his attitude is what carries the energy of the relationship. Even if you both came home with work frustrations, his attitude is what you matched. Had he left his own hostility at the door that day, had he cooled down your hot head, had he taken the initiative to keep the peace, this could have been avoided. There was a time, a place, a way, to present frustrations to each other, in a way that was productive and problem solving. But the day you both exploded, as the leader, Jack believes he should have been the one to de-escalate the situation.
"I shouldn't have taken my frustration out on you. I shouldn't have walked out during the fight. I shouldn't have turned my phone off. I shouldn't have let you worry all night about if I was alright or not. I shouldn't have let Urban's text be the only relief you got that I was safe. I should have stayed with you, I knew you needed me with you. I should have sat us down to talk instead of yell. I should have held you, because I know for a fact that you cried yourself to sleep that night, and probably every night since. I'm the one that should be sorry, baby girl." His voice was rough as he spoke, fighting to keep his thoughts in order as he was overwhelmed with emotions. He held you tightly, not only for your comfort but for his as well, one hand rubbing your back, the other on the back of your head.
You pulled away slightly to look at him, his face as red and puffy as yours no doubt, the sincerity in his eyes lit up by the numerous candles, the flames casting him in an angelic glow. Jack has always been your knight in shining armor, your safety, your peace, your rest. To hear him take full accountability, even though you were also to blame for this, bloomed a warmth in your chest that you had never felt before.
In the last two years, you and Jack had never fought like you two had done almost a week ago. It had never gotten as nasty or as ugly as that fight, the two of you completely out of bounds, making a mockery of any boundaries you two had set up; it was a no holds barred match of who could hurt the other more. It was sickening and you both were wracked with guilt afterwards, unable to even look yourselves in the mirror. It was emotionally bloody and brutal, not knowing that either of you could get that low. As much as you two loved each other and believed you'd be together forever, sitting in the aftermath of it, you both were scared that that fight could have been the end. The words thrown were blanks, you both knew that, but it still hurt like the real thing.
"I know you said I have nothing to be sorry for, but I am sorry. I love you, Jack, more than anything in this world. I can't describe how much I love you, I wish I could. You're all that I want, nothing is as important to me as you are. You're my everything Jackman Harlow, my whole world." You confess to him. "I shouldn't have said those things," you choke a bit at the thought, "I should never say things like that to someone I love this much. You only deserve kind words, loving words, uplifting words, supportive words. I'm so sorry, my love." You look up at him with pleading eyes. You knew that he had forgiven you, but he knew how much you required reassurance. He pulled you in again, holding you close as you cried again, whispering his love and forgiveness in your ear.
You leaned up to kiss him, your lips whispering an apology that words could never fully express. You both poured whatever you needed into the kiss, your hands grasping at each other for dear life, the two you a lifeline for each other in this moment. When you pulled away you felt his forehead lean against yours, his nose rubbing yours lovingly as you both smiled for the first in what felt like ages. The pain you both felt washing away as you two basked in each other's love. You looked up at him, the softest look of adoration on his face as he gazed down at you. The two of you glowing in the candle light, the warm floral scent enveloping you both, the water droplets marking the cleansing of your sins against one another. You finally felt like you could breathe, knowing that everything was right between you two.
After washing up, Jack wrapped you up in a fluffy towel, blowing out the candles and guiding you out of the bathroom. The two of you exchanged your towels for robes as Jack led you by the hand to the couch. He plopped down and pulled you into him, your body instinctively curling up into his side, taking comfort in his strong hold on you. He grabbed the remote, playing none other than both of yours comfort movie. He traded the remote for his phone, his thumb quickly swiping away as he ordered your go-to "sad-girl" meal, as you liked to put it, from the place that's open late down the street.
This is what you were used to. From the moment he held you in his arms in the shower, you were able to shut your brain down for the night. Jack always took care of you, your mind and body knew that, and for the first time all week you were able to rest. You were once again his princess: being hand dried and lotioned down after not lifting a finger to wash yourself, then being guided to watch your favorite movie while waiting for your favorite meal to magically appear before you, not a thought or care of how it came to be. This was what you were used to, this was how it was supposed to be. The man you loved babying you as you just basked in his gentle attention like a small child.
You of course fell asleep almost immediately, your body feeling safe and warm in his arms could shut down fully. When you awoke, about an hour had passed and Jack was squirming under you trying to get up to grab the food without waking you. You giggled at his attempted subtlety, and scooted for him to get up. You two shared your meal together, dopey loving looks on both of your faces as you fed each other, sweet kisses exchanged in-between bites. There was such a surge of feel-good hormones, so much oxytocin flooding both of your systems, pupils blown as you gazed at each other, the aphrodisiac of the chocolate cake you two split adding to the shift of the evening.
You pushed the now empty carton off of Jack's lap, the clatter of the forks hitting the floor not distracting you from what you wanted, no needed, in that moment. You straddled Jack's lap, both hands moving to cup his cheeks, your thumbs rubbing his shaggy beard, the hair longer than it was a week ago, making you giddy. You pushed your tongue into his mouth, a groan escaping him as he tasted you for the first time in what felt like forever. His hands ran up and down your thighs, landing on your ass as he gripped the flesh roughly, your hips pressing down to grind on him.
There was a hunger in you both, never had you two been able to go more than a few hours while in each other's presence without fucking. Spending six days, five nights, sleeping right next to each other without touching was a torture all in itself.
Jack was quick to move, his hands holding you to him as he lifted the two of you off the bed, walking you to the bedroom without breaking your kiss. Everything was rough and hurried, too much time had gone past and you refused to let more go by. The second your back hit the mattress, your hands were clawing at the belt of his robe, desperate to remove any barriers between the two of you.
You felt his lips moving down your neck, sucking, biting, licking whatever he could, moving down your body towards your stomach, but you pulled him up by his hair.
"No, Jack, I can't wait. I need you inside me, please, baby, I missed you." You weren't ashamed to beg him. Though the thought of his mouth on you made you shiver, you couldn't stand not being connected to him. Your confession made him smirk as he kissed his way back up to you.
"Turn me over," you softly commanded, your body twisting under him as you tried to get to your stomach. His hands went to your hips, guiding you to your knees as you pressed your front to the mattress. You presented yourself to him, wiggling your ass as you arched your back. He watched you from his kneeled position behind you, his hand stroking himself as he watched your hand come to touch yourself. You moaned as your fingers made contact with your neglected clit, sliding through your wet slit to collect some of your slick from your opening before returning to the aching bud. You turned your head, trying to get a glimpse of him behind you, catching his dazed expression as he watched you. You smiled with giddiness, loving that after all this time you can still turn him on this way. You dipped two fingers into yourself, wishing that it were his, and you let him know just that.
"Mmm, Jack. I've missed you so much, baby. Been so empty without you. Even now with my fingers inside me, I still feel empty. My pussy only wants to be filled with you." You moan to him, your hips rocking to meet your thrusting fingers as you try to reach the places inside you that only Jack can. You feel a warm hand on yours, pulling you away from yourself, his warm lips wrapping around your fingers to lick the wetness. You pull your hand back, both of them now gripping the sheets in anticipation as you bit your lip. You felt his tongue lick a bold stripe up your slit, making your eyes roll back and toes curl at the sensation, an appreciative moan escaping your lips.
You feel two of his fingers enter you, the large digits stretching you slightly as he moved them slowly, causing you to whine and rock back in an attempt to get more of the sensation. He chuckled at your eagerness, halting your hips with his unoccupied hand, his lips coming down to press kisses from your ass up your spine, all the while continuing to massage your walls.
"You're so wet for me, baby. All we did was kiss for a minute, and it's got you like this, huh? I shouldn't be surprised, this little pussy's always ready for me, ain't she?" He speaks slowly, his accent prominent as he watches in a trance as his fingers dip and curl into your pretty pussy. Your wetness dripped down your thighs, some dripping down onto the sheets, trails of it coating down his hand. He was always in awe of how wet you got, knowing it was just for him made him feel possessive of you. From somewhere far away, he could hear you whining for him, begging for more, begging for him to go faster, but he was entranced by the display before him.
He took pleasure in pleasuring you, your body belong to him and he took pride in the power he had over it, how he could command orgasm after orgasm from you, even when you thought you couldn't handle any more. He loved know your beautiful body was his to pleasure. He knew that every man on the planet wished they could have you, but he was honored that you chose to give yourself to him. He knew it was his responsibility to leave you satisfied and sated, that a goddess like yourself deserved nothing less than to have her appetite fed. And boy, did you have an appetite for Jack.
He was taken out of his trance when you had finally had enough of his teasing. You pushed yourself up from your position, his fingers slipping out of you as you turned around on the bed and crawled over to him. You eyed his erection, the heavy length barely able to stand up straight as it bobbed from its own weight between his thighs, the tip an angry pinkish red, shining with precum that had dripped a bit, the prominent vein pulsing which made your mouth water. You had plans to crawl into his lap, but seeing his perfect cock begging for attention had you changing your course of action.
You bent down low, taking his dick in your hand as you stuck your tongue out, licking from the base all the way up to the tip, your tongue curling as you licked the skin just under the head before taking him into your warm mouth. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him a little harder than you should have, making him hiss and flinch slightly; you knew how Jack felt about aggressive head, but it was payback for his teasing. His hand found your hair as he pulled you back, as bashful smile on your lips as you batted your eyes at him innocently. He pulled your face right up to his by your hair, your hands coming to balance on his strong thighs.
"That wasn't very nice, angel." He scolds, making you giggle just a bit, his expression softening at the sound he missed so much. He smiled lovingly, pressing his lips to yours as he pushed you back on the bed, his body coming to lay between your bent legs. His hands rubbed against your torso, playing with your breasts and nipples, twisting and tugging the taut peaks, before rubbing your waist and stomach.
You wrapped your arms and legs around him, not wanting him to pull away from you at all, you ran your hands up and down his back and shoulders, around to his chest, up to his cheeks, and then around to the nape of his neck. Just kissing him like this made you dizzy, his masterful lips and tongue caressing yours in a way that made you feel like you could cum from just that.
You felt him lower his hips, his length rubbing up and down your slit, collecting the wetness. You pulled away from him, needing to breathe as you felt his tip bump into your swollen clit. You felt overstimulated just from the anticipation, your body feeling so close to release just from the proximity of him. It never took much for that first orgasm, honestly there have been times where just him filling you was enough to get you off that first time—you were certain this night wouldn't be any different than those times.
"Jack, baby, please," you whimpered, desperate for him, almost panicked with your craving for him, tears at the corners of your eyes, feeling yourself enter that subspace that you've been craving all week. That sweet surrender to him, the contentment of knowing he would take care of you, keep you safe, satisfy you completely, all while your mind slipped away into oblivion. You knew he would take care of your body as you let go over your grip on reality, nothing but pleasure washing over you as he worshipped your body over and over until he decided to give you the mercy of rest. You trusted him to gently guide you back to earth, pull you down from the clouds and wrap you in his arms, anchor you to him and ground you as your soul finds its way back to your body. You'd follow his loving whispers as he called you back to him every time without fail.
"I've got you, princess." He grunted as he pressed himself against your entrance, his swollen head a blunt force against your tightness. You felt him hike your legs up higher around his hips, pressing you open for him as he pressed his forehead to yours, his head angled down as he watched where you two connected. He pressed in, knowing that after all this time he still needed to be gentle with you. His size was always a bit of a challenge for him, intimidating, and sometimes discouraging, most of the women he's been with. He knew what your body needed, taking his time as he opened you up for himself. It was an almost spiritual experience for the both of you, the connecting of two bodies into one, it wasn't just sex to you two.
"Fuck, baby" he grunts, resisting the urge to force himself in too quickly, your velvety walls sucking him in at their own pace, slowly pulsing around him as he eased in. He swears he'll never get used to this. The wetness, the heat, the tightness that deliciously teeters on the line of almost too tight, the cushiony feel of your walls, and firm bump of your cervix once he's fully seated in you. All that accompanied by the pretty sounds that escape your lips; the way your almond shaped nails scrape at his broad shoulders, that dull pain being the only thing stopping him from busting his nut right then and there, grounding him in his euphoria; the way your back arches as he pushes in, your chest pressing into his as his hips continue to press into yours.
"It's so good, Jack," you slur, your hips lifting on their own accord to meet his, the slight burn from the additional force causing you to cum unexpectedly, a squeal leaving your lips as you pressed your chest into his, your head thrown back in bliss, his groan in your ear at your sudden clench around him. The feeling was light, not as intense as you know they will be, but nonetheless took your breath away as you came down with a smile on your face. You giggled a bit, turning your head to look at Jack whose breath was ragged, his sweaty forehead pressed to your shoulder.
"That was unexpected," you giggled, kissing his cheek and nudging him to look at you; Jack was seemingly more affected by the orgasm than you were. You finally got his blue eyes to open, his expression dazed as he formed a smile on his face.
"It took everything in me not to cum right then and there," he chuckled, picking himself up onto his hands like an extended push up. "You okay, baby?" He asked, looking down at you. He was now fully in you, but he was still ever concerned that he could have hurt you. His hand came to rub your cheek, a protectiveness coming over him at the thought of you hurt.
"I'm okay, daddy." You nodded to him, nuzzling his palm as you looked up at him with doe eyes. Your hands came to splay on his chest as he hovered over you, your legs bent around on either side of his slender hips. The position made you feel so small, his larger body caging you, his strong arms on display, his wide chest feeling powerful under your fingertips. Your small hands take a moment to roam his body, running through the soft hair on his chest, down his sculpted torso, his stomach flexing as you inch closer to where the two of you were connected, the skin there a bit ticklish. You continue your exploration, an awesome expression on your face as you appreciated his body. You knew he had his own body image issues, so did you, so whenever you could, you took the chance to just admire him.
"So beautiful," you muttered, mostly to yourself. "Just so beautiful," you repeated as you took your time to look at him, forgetting that the two of you were in the middle of having sex. "Missed you." This time you look up to his face, your heart breaking at the confession, a bubbling of heartache in your chest all over again. He felt your change of energy immediately, your subby space leaving your emotions fluid as all you could do was feel without thought. Your eyes began to water and your lip trembled, your breathing getting heavier as you reached for him to come down to you, needing to be held.
"I'm right here, angel. It's alright, I've got you." He reassured you, cooing in your ear as his arms came around your back to hold you to him, his lips coming to press to your teary cheeks. "I love you, baby. I'm not going anywhere", he kisses you passionately, calming your mild panic, your earlier feelings resurfacing before being forced away but his touch. You feel him move slightly, testing the waters, making you moan against his mouth. He was seated deep inside you, his girth stretching you out so well as he rocked inside of you, your wetness sounding out in the room as your hips moved to meet his shallow thrusts.
"So good," you mumble, his head repeatedly bumping your cervix making the pressure build in your stomach. "Like that, don't stop" you beg, your hands in his hair as you guide his lips to your neck. He slowly sucks on the sensitive skin there, no doubt leaving marks.
"This what you wanted, baby?" He asks, his lips moving against your cheek, his pace steady as he increases the pressure of his hips, you can barely speak, the added sensations taking your breath away. Your hips naturally continue their rhythm against his, the string in your stomach feeling like it could snap at any moment. Jack knows you're close, your core tightening around him, causing him to groan in your ear, setting you off. His arms are still cradling you to his chest, his body around you feeling suffocating as you writhe against him, this orgasm coming from deep within you as you clench around him like a vice, Jack unable to move as he grits his teeth together at the sensation. Your body continues to twitch as you come down, electricity still flickering throughout your body as your pussy slowly releasing its grip on Jack's dick, causing him to exhale through his flared nostrils.
Your body is limp, feeling like jello as you just lay there in his embrace, chest heaving, face flushed, pussy tender. You feel Jack pull out of you, but you barely have the energy to say anything as you just close your eyes and bask in the post orgasm sensations. You feel Jack slowly lower your legs from around his waist, turning you over, your body too exhausted and heavy to care. He's got you on your stomach, his hands coming to massage your back and hips, his lips on the back of your neck as he whispers how good you were for him, making you smile lightly. You feel him press behind you, his hand coming to your right thigh from your hip, hooking behind your knee as he brings it forward towards your chest. You wince slightly at the stretch, your hips having tightened from the previous position he had you in. The cool air blows against your sore pussy, a sensation that makes you squirm lightly as you try to bring your legs back together but his hand behind your knee stops you.
"Uh-uh, baby. I want you just like this." His face is pressed to yours, cheek to cheek, as he comes to lay on top of you, his dick rubbing your sensitive slit making you cry out in mild discomfort. He shushes you, his face coming over to kiss you messily, lips and tongue twisting and smacking against each other, his hand leaving your knee to palm your tender breast. He takes your distraction as a chance to press into you, your pussy welcoming him as you let out the most pornographic moan he had ever heard. His forehead pressing into the back of your shoulder, as he slowly works himself into you, your walls still pulsing from your orgasm. You groaned at the mild discomfort as the wider part of his dick worked its way into you, and he was quick to whisper comforting words into your ear.
"Daddy," you whined, your hips shifting in an attempt to escape the feeling, but his hand came down to hold you in place as he continued pushing into you.
"Be a good girl for me, princess. You can take it, just relax. Just like that, pretty girl." He groaned his words into your ear as he pressed all the way in, his hand leaving your hip to rub your clit. You squealed and grabbed his wrist, pulling him away.
"Too much," you babbled into the pillow, making him chuckle and place a sweet kiss to your cheek. He began moving his hips, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back into the hilt, each time making your breath catch in your chest. His pace was slow and rough, his own knee coming up behind yours for additional leverage. You both could feel your wetness dripping from your pussy, making him glide in effortlessly into your tight passage.
"You feel so good, baby. So tight f'me, every damn time." He mumbled in between his groans. He picked up his pace, the sensations too good to resist as he started fucking you faster. It felt so good, the head of his dick rubbing against your g-spot with every up stroke and dragging against it on every down, you almost couldn't take it as you just moaned and groaned, babbling incoherently as he continued to fuck your pussy relentlessly.
"I-I-I c-can't," you finally formulated something remotely understandable, your hand grabbing at his hand that was holding your hip steady. You clawed at him, but he refused to ease up, grabbing your hand and pinning it to the bed before speaking to you.
"You can take it, baby. Yes, you can. This pussy was made for my dick, she can take it." He clasps your hand in his, the intimate act lost on you as your eyes roll back, your body attempting to coil in on itself as your orgasm flooded your system, a choked sob leaving your throat as the euphoria clouded you. With your ears ringing, you could barely make out Jack's groan as his body went rigid on top of yours, his hips sloppily thrusting as he attempted to fight against the clench of your walls holding him like a vice, a deep warmth filling your pussy as he came inside you.
You couldn't register anything as you both came down, heavy breathing was the only thing heard in the room as you tried to get a grip on reality. Your head was spinning, your body humming, your heart beating in your ears. The only thing keeping you down to earth was the heavy weight of your boyfriend on top of you, his hand still holding yours as he tried to catch his breath. You could feel him still inside you, even after cumming as hard as he did, he was still hard so you knew this was far from the end.
"You did so good, pretty girl, did so good for me. You're always such a good girl, aren't you? My best girl." You preened at his attention, and he could tell by the way your pussy fluttered that you enjoyed his words. He pressed soft kisses to the side of your face as he continued. "Did daddy make you feel good? You looked so beautiful when you were cumming on my dick, baby, prettiest thing I've ever seen. I love you so much, all I ever want is to make you feel good, angel." You blushed at his words, angling your head back so you could get to his lips, Jack happily obliging your silent request.
You felt him pull out of you, your legs coming together immediately to try to apply pressure to the soreness there. He stayed resting on top of you, knowing you needed to feel his skin on yours when you got like this.
"You okay, y/n?" You were so out of it in your sub-space, but the one thing that caught your attention was the usage of your name. He was giving you a chance to use your safe word if you needed it. That was something you and Jack practiced often when going into intense sessions. He would never use your name during sex, and when he did, it was to check in with you if he ever felt like maybe you needed a break.
"Green," you croaked out, signaling you wanted to continue. You felt exhausted, but this was what you wanted, what you had been craving all week. Your body felt light and heavy at the same time, your brain was mush and all your senses were clouded by Jack and you couldn't possibly ask for anything more.
You felt his body shuffle a bit, moving from on top of you as he came to straddle your ass, his thick erection sitting atop the fleshy mounds, glistening with a mix of your cums as he rubbed it in between the seam. His hands came to rub your back, just wanting to touch and feel your body. He watched how his two hands dwarfed your waist, curving around your sides, as he pressed forward to your shoulder blades; you looked so small under him, so delicate. He felt so powerful over you, his hands gliding across your beautiful skin, the sweat making you shimmer, the sweet sounds escaping your mouth as his fingers pressed in a certain spot.
"C'mere, baby," he whispered softly, his arms coming to wrap around you as he pulled you up to your knees, your body slumping back against his chest as he guided you to settle on his thighs, his erection against your back. You laid your head against his shoulder, his arms the only thing keeping you from plopping back down on the bed. You moaned uncomfortably at the heavy weight of your body, just wanting to go to sleep. With one arm around your waist, he used his hand to turn your chin to him, your fucked out expression making him smile to himself, a shy one of your own coming to settle on your lips as you blushed.
"You're so perfect, angel. My perfect girl." He commented with sincerity, his lips coming down to meet yours. You tiredly tried to keep up with him but were too exhausted, pulling away to nuzzle his neck as you caught your breath, your body twisting in an attempt to turn around in his lap.
"Uh-uh, princess. I want you just like this. Look up, pretty." He instructed, his chin nudging your head from his neck, for you to look forward, a large full length mirror situated right in front of you two. You took in your disheveled self—your two French braids frizzy and falling apart, your neck and chest and breasts covered in blotchy reddish-purple marks, your hips with slight marks from when Jack had gripped you a bit too hard, your skin sweaty and shiny, your lips puffy and swollen just like your pussy. Your eyes flitted to Jack seated behind you, his large upper body barely obstructed by you sitting in front of him. His skin was flushed red, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, his plump lips swollen and well kissed. His hands had moved to rub your thighs, hips, stomach, breasts, anything he could grab onto. It made you moan, seeing how big they were against your body, how much of you he was able to grab in each handful, it drove you crazy.
Your hand moved to rest on top of his, seeing the size difference almost had you moaning. You loved that he was bigger than you, it turned you on and he knew it. You guided his hand up your body, allowing him to feel the dips of your curves as you brought him to cup your chest, your back arching to fill his hand with the delicate flesh. You closed your eyes as he massaged your breast, his fingers tweaking your nipple, twisting and pulling the way you like. You angled your head back, your lips latching on to the spot you knew he liked under his jaw, your ass grinding back against his lap as you spread your legs a bit wider over his thighs. You brought your hand atop his other one, guiding it to where you craved him most, the long digits finding your dripping cunt.
"Please, daddy."
That was all he needed, his hand coming to cup your sex, the external pressure having you grind down in his palm for some friction. He let his middle and ring finger slip between the folds, rubbing back and forth to the rhythm of your hips. You wanted more as you whined, attempting to angle your hips to have his fingers slip in. You felt frustrated, fucked out but not fucked enough; you wanted more, all the while not sure if you could take it. You felt your breathing pick up, defiance rising up in your chest at your frustration with his actions, or lack thereof, so you did the only thing your subbed-out mind could think of—you bit him.
A sharp slap to your pussy had you yelping, your body pressing back into Jack's to escape the feeling, pressing into his erection, making him groan.
"That wasn't nice, princess. Behave and I'll give you what you want." He admonished. "Raise up a little for me." He instructed with a tap to your thigh, your body leaning forward and away from his as he rubbed his dick through your folds again, collecting as much of the slick as he could, knowing that you would be sensitive. He tapped his dick against you a few times, the head hitting your clit and making you jump before pushing into you. He held your hips tight, making sure to control the pace as he watched your scrunched up face in the mirror, knowing that initial press-in would be uncomfortable.
He was slow, pushing in a little bit and holding you there, his hips bouncing a bit as he pulsed his dick inside of you. As he'd watch your face relax, he pressed in a little bit more of himself, thoughtfully watching your reactions in the mirror. It wasn't until you started meeting his pulses with rocking hips did he slide in the rest of the way, one of his hands leaving your hips to rest on your stomach, pulling you back against him as you sat perfectly on his lap, his dick fully inside you.
"Open your eyes, baby girl. Lemme see those pretty eyes." Your eyes flutter open, your eyes lingering on the sight in front of you for a moment before meeting his. He looked in awe of you and it made you blush, but you held eye contact with him. His lips landed on your shoulder, his eyes never leaving contact with yours. The two of you sat like that for a moment, just taking everything in.
Your arms felt limp, but you willed them to wrap around his neck, your head turning to kiss him, his soft lips caressing yours. Your hips shifted a bit, making you pull away to gasp, the new angle hitting your cervix in a way that was intense. He noticed your expression, your brows furrowing as your lips parted. You shifted your hips again and again trying to get used to the sensation, soft noises leaving your lips as Jack whispered encouraging words in your ear.
"You okay, baby? Talk to me."
"It's so deep, Jack. It's too much." You gazed up in his eyes, your soft, doe-like expression driving him crazy. You took his hand that was pressed against your waist, holding you to him, and lowered it further to your naval, pressing his hand against your distended tummy where you felt him. "I feel you right here, it's too deep." You whine, shifting your hips again, allowing his tip to rub against your cervix to emphasize his depth.
"It's not too deep, baby. It's right where it needs to be." He cooed, his hips rocking into you. His actions were slow but forceful, making your head spin as your arm that was still behind his head held on to him for dear life. You squirmed against him, whining and writhing, wanting both more and less of the sensation. You felt him hike your body up further against him, allowing him to raise up off his haunches as he pulled out and pushed back in making you squeal and try to push away from him. Both of his arms came to wrap around you, to keep you in place as he began fucking you, each thrust hitting your cervix and making your toes curl.
"There you go, pretty girl, there you go. Just like that, you can take it." He whispered in your ear, watching your face in the mirror. Watching the way his large body engulfed yours, the way your breasts bounced forward with every thrust, the way your hands clawed at his arms to try to escape the pleasure between your legs. He tightened his hold on you with one arm, his other skimming up your chest to rest on your throat as he picked up the pace of his hips, pulling your body down to meet his. He pressed his face into the side of yours, still watching you in the mirror, thinking about how he had never seen anything so beautiful before. You had one hand grasping his arm around your torso, the other pressed against his thigh in a failed attempt to push him away, your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, the whites of your eyes peeking out from under your lids, thin lines of tears running down your cheeks, your mouth was slightly agape as a small stream of drool dribbled down your chin, nothing but broken moans and the occasional obscenity falling from your swollen lips. He loved knowing he was the one to bring you to this fucked out state, no one else. He felt possessive over this side of you, making him fuck you harder with a primal need.
"You gonna let me cum inside you again? Huh, angel? But, you're no angel, are you? Letting me defile this pussy like this, fuck this perfect pussy like this, huh baby? Letting me fuck you so good, got my princess crying. Open your eyes, baby. Look at how good I'm fucking you." He instructs, his hand around your throat squeezing gently to get your attention. He gives you a few moments to heed his instruction and when you didn't, he fucked you harder, his hand around your throat tightening.
"I said open your eyes, darlin'," he grits out between his teeth with that derby accent, his own orgasm approaching quickly as he bit down on your shoulder. You opened your eyes, blinking away the tears, barely recognizing the woman in front of you being fucked senseless. You barely had control of your senses, your pupils completely blown as your eyes trying to figure out what to focus on. His face? Your face? His hands? Your breasts? His arms? His hips? Or the sight of his dick disappearing into your pussy?
"Look at how sexy you look. Such a goddess with this beautiful body, baby. I love you so much, look at you, what's not to love, huh? So sexy, so beautiful, so smart, so talented, so kind, so funny, so perfect. My perfect girl, my best girl." You can't help but let your eyes fall closed at his praise, but his hand tightening around your throat again caused you to reopen them. "Uh-uh baby. Keep'em open for me. I want you to watch me fuck you, fill you up so good with my cum. Is that what you want, princess? You want me to fill you with my cum?" He chuckles in your ear as you eagerly nod, your hips instinctively rocking back to meet his thrusts, desperate for his cum.
"Yes, yes please, oh god, yes. I need it, daddy, I need your cum, please," you babbled, words tripping over themselves as you looked at him in the mirror with a crazed look of desperation. You're begging for it, nothing will suffice except for his cum filling you up. You feel wild with need, your brain not comprehending anything but the absolute necessity of being filled with his thick load, as if your life depended on it. He loved it when you begged for him, especially when you begged for his cum, knowing how badly you wanted it in your sub-space.
"You're gonna let me cum in your pussy, huh? You're gonna let me fill you up so much it's dripping out of you? You've already made such a mess," referring to the puddle of wetness beneath you two. "I'm gonna fill this pussy up so good. Imma put a baby in you. Would you like that? You want me to put my baby in you? Want me to make you a mommy, princess?" You moaned at his words, your stomach coiling at the thought.
"Yes, yes please. Cum inside me, let me make you a daddy." You begged him, the thought of carrying his child making you hot with need.
"You want that, baby? You want everyone to know I'm the only one who gets to cum inside you? Mark you so everyone knows who you belong to? Have you waddling around with my baby inside you, your belly swelling as you grow our beautiful baby. You'd make such a good mommy, baby." His hands traveling to cup both of your breasts, his hips still keeping their same brutal pace. "I can't wait for these to swell up too, get all sensitive for me to play with." His twisting of your nipples making you groan, your hips moving faster against his as your orgasm starts closing in.
"Please, Jack. Cum inside me, let everyone know who I belong to. Please, I want to have your baby, make you a daddy, make us a family." Your words have him fucking you harder, faster, rougher. His own orgasm so close as his hand goes back down to your lower stomach, his hand pressing down on the area making you feel him even more. You yelp, trying to get away from the overwhelming sensation, but he just presses down harder.
"Don't run from it, darlin'. You said you wanted it, baby. You can take it. Let me fuck this baby into you." His free hand coming to rub your clit, making the coil on your belly snap with just a few swipes. You let out an almost pained groan, your body curling in on itself as your torso drops down to the bed, unable to to hold yourself up anymore, your position now resembling child's pose.
Jack's body is quick to come over yours, his hand still trapped between your thighs under your curled up body, his fingers still rubbing against your clit to prolong your orgasm. You're fully crying, sobbing, wailing, unable to escape the pleasure he was delivering, his hips still sloppily thrusting into you as he finally reaches his own orgasm. His hips press as deep as he can, your new position allowing him to press harshly to your cervix as he releases his thick load inside of you, coating your walls in the warm sticky substance, a sensation that has your toes curling. You both continue to lay there, both of your bodies twitching from the intensity of your orgasms, your pulsing walls continuing to milk his dick for more of his cum, short spurts still shooting out from the tip in his aftershocks. He pulls his hand from between your legs, a wet digit finding its way to between his lips before he offers you one as well. You sleepily take it into your mouth, not having the energy to tease him with your tongue.
"You did so good f'me, darlin'. So good. Such a good girl f'me, you know that. Gonna make such a good mommy to our babies one day. Love you so much." His words are gentle as he kisses your cheek, trying to gently begin bringing you back to the land of the living. You mumble something incoherent to him as a response, your brain too mushy to put together a proper sentence. You two stay like that for a while, his body draped on top of yours, his heat and weight a welcomed comfort after the fucking you had just endured. His hands massages up and down your arms, his heartbeat thumping against your back, the rise and fall of his chest a comforting lull.
"I love you, Jack. So much." You tell him, the clouds finally clearing from your mind. You pull your head up slightly, looking at the mirror in front of you to see the sight before you. His large body hiding yours beneath him made you feel warm and safe, a protective cage surrounding you. You reach your hand around, instinctively reaching for his curls to scratch at his scalp. You knew he needed some aftercare after such intense sessions, so you continued to speak to him.
"You're always so good to me, baby. You take such good care of me. You're all I ever need, Jack. Nothing else. No one else." Your voice is soft as you continue, feeling his arms wrap around you tighter. "I can't wait for us to have a family, you'll be such a wonderful father. You're already such a wonderful partner. You're my provider and protector, my rock and my support, my lover and best friend." You hear a sniffle muffled into your neck, knowing he just needed a moment to bask in your praise. You continue to scratch at his scalp, humming softly to yourself as you continue to ride that post sex bliss.
Once you feel him push up off of your body, you twist your upper body around underneath him, your lower bodies still connected by his softened member. You smile up at him, looking at him with adoring eyes that makes him want to fuck you all over. You take in his face, the space around his eyes definitely wet from what were probably some tears. Sex this intense always had you both emotional, all the hormones being released, the vulnerability of your nakedness. One of your favorite things about Jack was how he wasn't afraid to show you those emotions, knowing that he was just as safe with you as you were with him.
"Gimme a kiss, handsome" you softly command, his lips wasting no time in finding yours. The kiss is gentle and unhurried, full of so much love. When you both pulled away, he kept his face close to yours, his nose nuzzling yours, his cheeks rubbing yours, his beard making you giggle, a smile breaking onto his face at the sound.
You feel him start to pull out of you, your eyes wide as you wrap an arm around his back, your core clenched to lock him in, the pressure on his sensitive dick making him hiss and look at your wide eyed expression in question.
"No, baby. I need to keep it safe." You mumbled to him, remnants of your subspace peaking through. You didn't want to let him go, you didn't want it all to end just yet.
"You want to keep my cum safe, huh baby?" His voice is husky as his eyes darkened. You nod your head, your hips shifting against his as you hear the squelching of his cum inside you. "Okay baby, let's get you more comfortable then, huh. I need you to relax for me, okay?" You take a deep breath, unclenching your pussy, allowing him to maneuver your lower half around, laying you flat on your back without letting him slip from inside of you.
He was sat up, your legs spread apart, your feet propped up on his thighs, as your pussy stuffed with his now semi-hard on was on full display for him. Your thighs and his lap were fully drenched in the sticky wetness, your pussy was creamy with the coating of his first load that had dripped out of you. His fingers came to trace the swollen skin, playing in the mess you two had created. Your clit was swollen, peeking out from the folds like a sweet pearl, making him want to reach down and suck it between his lips.
"You think you can do one more, princess?" His eyes momentarily leave their gaze on your pussy to look up at you. You shook your head at him, but the flutter in your pussy let him know you were just playing coy. "C'mon baby girl, I know you can do it." His thumb finally resting on your clit, applying pressure but not moving. You moaned at the sensation, whining as your hips moved, his hardening dick starting to stretch you out once again. He collected some of the creamy essence from between your legs, his thumb brushing the shiny substance along your nipple before his mouth came down to claim it, moaning against the flesh at the taste. Your hand came to cradle his head to you, his lips mouthing at your sensitive breast while he palmed the other.
"Just one more," you whispered to him, the delicious fullness of his now hard dick inside you had you craving more of him once again. The sensitive sting of your stretched out opening dulled by the tension swirling in your gut. You felt him smirk against you, leaning back up to his kneeling position. He contemplated how he wanted to fuck you, but ultimately decided he wanted to be as close to you as possible as he made love to you.
Jack reached over to grab a pillow, folding it in half as he placed it under your hips before collecting your legs and bringing them together, gently pressing them forward to your chest. He was slow with the process, not wanting to hurt you as he leaned his body down against yours, your legs now over his shoulders, your knees against your chest. You felt a dull ache in your hips at the feeling of being folded in half. Jack's arms came around to cradle you from under your back, your head gently held in his hands as he brought his forehead down to yours. You both closed your eyes, taking deep breaths, enjoying the vulnerable and close position you two were in. You felt his lips on yours, his tongue leisurely gliding against yours, using this as a distraction as he rocked his hips, making you pull away to catch your breath.
"Oh god, Jack." You moaned, the position of your hips being propped up made for his pelvis to rub against your clit. You could hear all of the filthy sounds of your wetness as he began thrusting gently, fucking his cum inside of your pussy. You could feel some of it dripping down from your slit, tickling the seam of your ass cheeks, knowing it was pooling down on the pillow, but you didn't care. He continued to kiss you passionately, making love to you as he used his hands to caress your face, your own doing the same to his as you held him close to you. As much as you both loved fucking, there was nothing like good ol' love making.
"You feel so good around me, baby girl. Fucked you so hard all night and you're still so damn tight around me. This pussy was made for me, wasn't it, angel? Your heart was made for me. Your mind, body, and soul was made for me. No one else, darlin'." His confession, in combination with the pressure on your clit and in your pussy was enough to make you cum, your walls tightening around him as your wetness dripped and squirted, Jack's hips grinding and digging into your pussy to prolong the experience for you. You felt it from your head to your toes, the fire that licked through your veins and swelled in your chest. He kissed around your face and neck as you caught your breath, his lips collecting the salty sweat and tears that fell from the corners of your eyes.
"So perfect." He praised as your breathing leveled slightly. His hips went back to his soft thrusting, his orgasm not too far behind as he felt his balls tighten. He leaned his forehead against your cheek, his head angled down to watch your pussy swallow his dick again and again, both of your cum glistening on it whenever he pulled out, still in awe of how something so tight could accommodate his huge size.
"Please fill me up again, daddy. I need it again." You babbled, catching his attention. You wanted to feel him spilling into you again, the sensation truly addicting as he always filled you up with so much cum each time. "I want to stay so full of you, I want every last drop. Can you do that for me? Can I have it? I've been such a good girl for you, I deserve it." You felt that subspace creeping up on you again, feeling emotional at the thought that maybe he would deny you his cum. He rested his head against yours, both of you cradling the other's face in your palms as you held eye contact, soft grunts coming from both of your lips as Jack's hips sped up.
"I'll give it to you baby, I'll fill you up again and again, keep you filled up and stuffed with my cum. Keep it safe in your womb until you're pregnant with my child. Let everyone know how good I fuck you, how you let me cum deep inside you." His words were cut off by a guttural groan, his stomach clenching as his hips sputtered, his cum filling you up for the third time tonight, the hot substance right against your cervix as he teased his sensitive tip against it to prolong the stimulation. His body felt heavy, but he made sure to lower your legs before collapsing on top of you. His head laid against your chest, as he heaved in a shaky breath, his body twitching with aftershocks, his balls still clenching to try and empty themselves fully into your pulsing pussy.
"I love you, baby, so much," you heard him whisper, his body completely spent, as you used whatever energy you had left in you to scratch at his scalp.
"Love you too."
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thebiscuitlabryinth · 2 months
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Nowadays, Pure Vanilla has gotten used to his sleep fluctuating wildly between turbulent dreams and sleep like the void itself has swallowed him whole. It seems like a game of chance whenever he rests his head down, and neither option leaves him any less tired the next morning.
Today, his dreams are absurd, swirling and spilling into each other, and vividly upsetting in a way he can't identify. He shut his eyes tight, but that doesn't block out the rest of his senses. He can hear begging, crying, shouting, and the scent of something burning and wilted lilies clashes in the air, creating a suffocating smell that winds around him slow. It is awful, but it is slightly less so, now that he knows how to recognise when he is in a dream. More importantly, he has a question, and he is more than aware of Shadow Milk's lingering presence.
"You founded the study of Dark Moon Magic, didn't you?"
It is a soft question, but one that is sure of itself. Instantly, the sounds and smells and sensations that had been plaguing Pure Vanilla disappear. Pure Vanilla keeps both his eyes closed for the time being, just in case. Tonight, his staff is absent like a missing leg, and he misses the added security of being able to look through it.
"Oh, come on! Don't interrupt the scene, we were just getting to the good part!" Shadow Milk's voice responds with frustration, the sound coming from all sides. It is precisely because it comes from all sides that Pure Vanilla keeps his eyes closed, not quite trusting that the shards of his nightmares have been fully swept away. He doesn't want to find out what Shadow Milk could possibly consider to be 'the good part' amidst the sounds of suffering and anguish.
Instead, Pure Vanilla sighs. "It was your choice to stop everything when I asked that, wasn't it? You can't blame me for that."
"Bzzt! Wrong! I can blame you because you did interrupt. It doesn't matter what I did in response, a disruption is a disruption." Shadow Milk declares loudly, voice a little rougher, as if he was daring Pure Vanilla to argue back. But his voice is now only coming from one source, right in front of him, so Pure Vanilla cautiously opens his eyes to check the surroundings.
He finds himself in the library of Blueberry Yogurt Academy, and nostalgia eagerly rears its head within him, somewhat surprised. He's stood beside a littered table, surrounded by the deep blue bookshelves of his youth and the comforting smell of aged paper. The details blur a little past that, some of the shelves lighter, more like the bookshelves in his chambers in the Vanilla Kingdom, leaving it less like a perfect replica and more like a collage made out of bits and pieces of his lifetimes' worth of memories, but it is mostly the Blueberry Yogurt library.
Shadow Milk is across the table from him, tutting when Pure Vanilla takes too long to reply. He leans his elbows on the table, propping his chin on the bridge of his linked fingers. "Sneaky, silly-Vanilly, trying to use me to get out of your funny little nightmares. Very, very sneaky."
"It worked, didn't it?" Pure Vanilla says, a bit stiffly, because that had never been his main intention, mostly because Shadow Milk isn't nice enough for him to think it would work. No, his main intention is genuine curiosity, and that is exactly why he continues to prod. "...You didn't answer my question."
"Because it's a stupid one." Shadow Milk hums back, tilting his head to the side. He tilts it far enough that his cheek is now resting against his hands instead of his chin. "You should be able to figure that out yourself. Didn't I already tell you where my home is?"
Pure Vanilla doesn't answer for a moment, laying a tentative hand on the edge of the table as he tries to squint at the papers across its surface in the dim lamplight. It takes him a second to realise that they're all forbidden texts on Dark Moon Magic, and when he does, he murmurs back. "It's better to clarify than assume, isn't it?"
This time, Shadow Milk is the one who doesn't answer for a moment, instead staring at him with those piercing eyes. Pure Vanilla can feel more around him, behind him, lurking in the shadows pooling in the nooks and crevices and he can't help it – he shivers slightly.
That reaction must be enough for Shadow Milk, because he snorts, and pushes off the table to lean back, kicking his feet up onto the table and right on top of texts, which is already enough to make Pure Vanilla wince. Poor library etiquette aside, the movement is horribly uncanny to watch, partly because he is leaning back onto thin air instead of a chair, partly because he moves so quickly it's like his limbs snap into place, and partly because his smile is stretched far too thin as he does so.
"Of course I did. I'm very talented, you know." Shadow Milk announces smugly, his eyes never leaving him. They narrow slightly, all of them in suspicious synchronisation, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly. "But I must admit, I am crumbling to know why you brought it up."
Whys are always difficult to answer, especially for something as difficult as motives, which can morph and change over time. Pure Vanilla hates lying, but he hates lying in front of Shadow Milk even more, because he seems to recognise every single one and Pure Vanilla doesn't want to give him the satisfaction.
But he really can't admit the core of the matter to his face. He can't admit that ever since he glimpsed the ghost of Shadow Milk's past, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about it. He can't admit that he is actively trying to glimpse it again, and what better way to try and draw it out than with any scholar's pride and joy – their work?
"It's impressive. I, myself, have mastered White Magic over the years, and I certainly contributed to its development, but I cannot claim that I created it as a school of magic." Pure Vanilla explains instead, and it isn't a lie either, just lacking all the details. He fidgets a bit, tugging at his own sleeves, adding quieter. "Dark Moon Magic is forbidden too, so there aren't many detailed sources left on it. I want to know more about its founding."
I want to know more about you.
There is another lapse of silence, and Pure Vanilla is tense with tentative hope. After all, if Shadow Milk was really against the topic altogether, he wouldn't have gone through the trouble of plucking him out of his nightmares.
Shadow Milk's smile is sharp like a knife, clashing with the casual way he folds his arms behind his head, almost languid as he finally muses. "Oh, really? That doesn't sound right. I'm sure there's enough details lying around to get the gist of it. After all, you've used Dark Moon Magic before, so you must know something about it already."
Pure Vanilla flinches back, and it isn't a surprise that he knows about that too, not anymore, but it still leaves him with unstable footing. Regardless, he doesn't let that scare him off the topic, which he suspects is exactly why Shadow Milk said it. "...I've only really used it once, and I don't remember much about what happened. So I may know something, but that something is rather little."
It's a confession, and the truth. His brief tangle with Dark Moon Magic is a complete blur in his own mind, watered down to blinding sensations and a heartache so intense he had felt like he was crumbling. Theoretically, he knows enough about Dark Moon Magic to hold a conversation, but he remembers nothing about it in practise.
"You know who could help you with that?" Shadow Milk asks, seemingly unbothered, but the words curl with open mockery and a smirk. He tilts his head back slightly so he can look down on Pure Vanilla and throws his arms out dramatically. "Our beloved, newly coronated Guardian! She has plenty of experience with–"
Pure Vanilla's heart lurches painfully.
"Don't talk about her!" He interrupts, voice bursting out louder than he expected and panic fluttery in his chest. He doesn't want to hear him tear at her old wounds, even if she can't hear it herself. He knows how vulnerable that cry makes him seem though, and he fumbles to lower his voice to something softer, less shaky. "Don't– please, I'm asking you for a reason."
Shadow Milk giggles, a strange grating sound that climbs higher with each breath, until he is laughing in earnest. He curls into himself, arms wrapped around his middle, and the position looks painful with his feet still planted on the table. Pure Vanilla watches him warily, a little shaken by the mention of White Lily, and wonders if maybe, he was wrong about what he thought he saw in Shadow Milk. He has been seeing more things that aren't there, recently.
His laughter stops abruptly. The stillness that follows is jarring, but doesn't last long.
Slowly – so slowly that it is unnerving, for someone who typically moves as erratically as him – Shadow Milk reaches forward with one hand and plucks a scroll up from the table. He unrolls it with a lazy flick of his wrist, the other end tumbling away over the edge of the table and across the floor. It is a smooth movement, Pure Vanilla notes through the pounding of his heart and his scrambled nerves, a practised motion that speaks of thousands of opened scrolls.
Shadow Milk peers over at the contents of the scroll with an empty, disinterested expression, his legs melting through the table until he appears to be sitting somewhat politely again. The sudden switch to this from his near hysterical laughter leaves Pure Vanilla disturbed, unsure if this is progress or not.
"I wanted to strike a balance between Black and White Magic." Shadow Milk says, his voice a disconcertingly low murmur, almost monotone. While his main eyes remain steadily on the scroll, the rest are eagerly burrowing into Pure Vanilla from all sides. "Black Magic draws from the void, making it unpredictable and destructive by nature, but full of potential. White Magic draws from the moon, primarily, and other celestial sources, making it safer and easier to use, but limited in its purity. If I could find the middle ground, I could harness magic with more flexibility and power but less unpredictability."
Shadow Milk pauses then, his eyes sliding up to stare right at Pure Vanilla, and his lips quirk upwards. When he speaks again, his voice gains a little more character but remains mainly flat, like a poorly-delivered theatrical monologue. "The dark side of the moon was the obvious choice for a source of that kind of power, because it's the natural overlap between the moon and the void. Once you figure out a source for magic, it's simple to find a way to draw from it, and to make it simpler, I had access to the knowledge of the Witches at my fingertips. All I had to do was write everything down, and the school of Dark Moon Magic was born. Easy-peasy!"
Shadow Milk throws the scroll to the side with little fanfare, not even sparing a glance at those ancient texts as they land in a heap of old paper on the floor, uncaring of if they damage or rip. And why would he? They both know this is a dream, and even if it wasn't, he had written that scroll himself.
Pure Vanilla would have cared, dream or not, if he wasn't wholly distracted, reduced to only a wide-eyed blink.
Because Shadow Milk may feign a bored face and voice, as if reading off a report or a particularly uninspiring script, but when their gazes meet, his eyes glitter like shooting stars, sparking with pride and passion and something else.
It captivates Pure Vanilla, the very same shine that comes with a breakthrough for every researcher. It is exactly what he had been hoping to see again, but the sight still leaves him feeling unmoored, even if pleasantly. Intruige and hope swirl within him, and he suddenly finds himself desperate to hold onto this ghost of the past, to make it stay longer and help it spill into the present.
"What does it feel like?" The question comes out before Pure Vanilla can think it through, focused on continuing the conversation before Shadow Milk can pick up his showmanship again in full. "Dark Moon Magic, I mean."
Shadow Milk huffs, a playful grin settling on his face again, and a sickening mix of dread and disappointment trickles through Pure Vanilla as he watches him lean over, crushing more texts beneath his palms. For a scary moment, he expects him to make another quip towards his previous use of the magic, or worse, bring up White Lily again.
He doesn't. Shadow Milk kicks his legs up behind him, so that he is laying on his stomach in mid-air, and cheerfully asks, "How about I show you?"
He doesn't wait for Pure Vanilla to process what he said, let alone reply. He reaches out and ensnares Pure Vanilla's hand, the one normally occupied with his staff, and laces their fingers together. Pure Vanilla doesn't reciprocate the hold, surprised, but only tries a small unsuccessful tug in response.
Shadow Milk's grip is an oppressive pressure, tight but not quite painful. He presses their palms together firmly, and Pure Vanilla gasps.
Magic bursts through the contact, rushing through his jam in a dizzying, warm flood. It is thicker, heavier than the magic Pure Vanilla is used to, thrumming and twisting as if it has a mind of its own, almost scratching at his dough as if trying to consume him, and he can't even concentrate on it because– because–
He can see everything.
Pure Vanilla really, truly can. He can see Shadow Milk's curling smile in front of him, he can see the Faeries having a feast, he can see Black Raisin greeting the moon from one of the Vanilla Castle's towers, he can see Dark Cacao striding through the citadel, he can see White Lily going through her morning routine, he can see his own sleeping body, and places and Cookies he doesn't have the presence of mind to recognise, all simultaneously. He doesn't know what to focus on, doesn't even know how to focus on anything, and his head hurts like it is falling apart.
This is how Shadow Milk has been watching me, he thinks deliriously, the only thought he can manage as he drowns in his sights.
And then, in a snap, he is back in the library with only one scene to see. His vision swims a little at the edges as if it didn't get the message, and he wobbles in place.
Shadow Milk is still holding his hand, but the grip is slightly looser, and the stream of his Dark Moon Magic is gone like a whisper. His grin is sinister and too big for his face, but his eyes still burn like stars.
"Fun, isn't it?" Shadow Milk coos, giddy like it is a shared secret, lifting Pure Vanilla's trembling hand and brushing a kiss to the back that buzzes with Dark Moon Magic. "My very first masterpiece."
Pure Vanilla wakes up disoriented, with a ringing headache and an itch in the back of his hand. White Lily notices his poor state almost immediately when she sees him – wonderful as she is – and she asks if he had a nightmare with that gentle, concerned slope to her brows.
Pure Vanilla adjusts his grip on his staff, leaning against it more than usual.
"No." He assures her lightly, not quite the truth and not quite a lie.
[next]
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ikigaisvt · 5 months
Text
lucky
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in which your boyfriend realizes how lucky he is to have you.
pairing: idol!jeonghan x gender neutral!reader words: 1.6k content: fluff, comfort warnings: jeonghan is exhausted/sad and he cries, petnames (for jeonghan: angel, babe, baby, love / for reader: precious), mention of food and eating. note 1.0: omg sammy posting smth?!?? thought we'd never see that again,,, felt like writing fluff lately since i feel there's a Lot of smut for seventeen so here i am feeding my own wishes note 2.0: this idea came after seeing the last inside seventeen where jeonghan looked tired at the end (and it's so unusual of him, to show how tough something is). also felt awful yesterday night, and instead of being comforted by him, i wished to comfort him. minors are allowed to interact but please don't follow. hope everyone likes it, please be nice i haven't wrote anything in month,, reblog/feedbacks are always appreciated!
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Jeonghan has always felt lucky to be an idol. Of course, as any job does, it has its downsides – and this one has a lot, despite what he can say. He never once complained about his job, no matter what can happen. Being able to share his love for music to his fans, his brothers by his side is the biggest blessing of his life. That is well known to his family, his fans but mostly you, his partner, who hears him pours his heart out about his job until dawn.
However, there are days when it is harder than usual; days where practice or filming is so hard, he wishes to go home and sleep the worries away; days where he questions if he actually was made for that job. Today, that came in the form of a hard practice. What maybe Jeonghan hasn’t realized yet is how lucky he is to have you, especially at the end of a tough day.
 You haven’t seen your boyfriend a lot lately as he was busier than usual; preparing for his new comeback as well as going overseas to film content. However, as he has been back from Hungary a few days ago, you knew you’d be able to see him again today. You spent hours cleaning your apartment, cooking his favorite meals and stocking up on his favorite drinks, picking shows and music to listen to so you could spend the night talking, catching up together and laughing at the new memories he made. You were looking forward to it, but most importantly, you were looking forward to seeing him again. To feel his presence, to hear his voice and laugh and to be able to touch him. Oh, how much you missed him.
As you finished preparing everything for him, you were lounging on your couch, the TV playing quietly in the background. Looking at the hour on your phone, you realized it was almost 11pm – which meant you were only minutes away from seeing your boyfriend. Getting up from the couch, you went to the kitchen to warm up his meal. You started pulling out different plates – jajagmyeon, tangsuyuk, kimchi pancakes and tteokbokki. "Okay, maybe I made too much this time, but I just want him to eat well," you think out loud. While you were filling smaller plates with side dishes, you heard the door opening, signaling that your boyfriend was finally home. Leaving the food behind, you left the kitchen to find your boyfriend – disheveled, hair picking out in all ways and tiredness showing on his face, struggling to get his shoes off.
“Jeonghan,” you call out to him softly, his head lifting up to find your eyes. And that’s when you realize how tired he really is. His smile is meekly showing up, his hair looks like he ran his hand through it multiple times – which is something he does when he is frustrated, dark circles are showing under his eyes but mostly, his eyes look sad, the usual playful lightness in them gone. “Are you okay?” you ask, your hand reaching out to him to let him know he is not alone.
“I-” he starts, his voice breaking a little bit, before clearing his throat, “I’m okay, I just can’t seem to get my shoes off.” he says, bending once again to work on the shoelaces.
You watch him for only a few seconds before sitting on the little step in your entryway, “Here, let me help you,” you say, gently tapping the floor in front of you, silently telling him to put his feet forward as you chase his fingers away.
“Babe, no-” he starts protesting, his fingers brushing with yours, trying to untie the knot faster.
“Shh,” you say calmly, getting a hold of his fingers, squeezing and letting go to work on the knots again, his feet slightly moving towards you, “You really tightened those well. That’s good, don’t want you falling down on your shoelaces during practice.” You say lightly, trying to make your boyfriend lighten up. You get his first shoe off, placing it gently next to yours, before working on the second one. As you were almost done with the second knot, you feel something wet falling on your hand, and you look up to see Jeonghan looking down at you, eyes filled with tears.
“Hey, hey, hey,” you say, getting a hold of his hand, “You’re okay, it’s fine,” you reassure him, squeezing his fingers tighter as he looks away from you, ears slightly red from the embarrassment of crying in front of you, his girlfriend. That’s such a Jeonghan thing, you tell yourself, “Let me get this one off and then we’ll get you to the couch, okay?” you tell him, earning a little nod as an answer. You get his second shoe off in record time and gently get up from the ground as you reach out for his hand, pulling him behind you as you lead him to the living room.
Reaching the couch, you make him sit down first before sitting down next to him, pulling your linked hands on your lap, your thumb slightly caressing his hand, “Are you okay?” you ask gently, trying to find his eyes but all he does is look down at his lap.
“I’m okay- Sorry about all this, practice was hard and I know you were excited about having a good time but stuffs happened and yeah-” he starts ranting as you listen intently to whatever he has to say, “Ah, sorry again. I’m rambling. I’m okay,” he says again, almost as he tries to convince himself, too, “Really.” He confirms as he meets your eyes, his smile not even reaching his cheeks.
“Love, you may be able to lie to your members but this doesn’t work with me,” you chuckle slightly, “What can I do?”
“I-” he starts, blush creeping on his neck again, his eyes looking around the room, “Will you hold me?” he whispers, hoping you heard him right as he finds your eyes again.
“Of course, angel,” you say as you lean back on the couch, opening your arms for him, his head finding a place to rest on your chest, “Let’s just stay like that for a little while, hm?” you whisper as you start running your fingers through his hair, “You can tell me anything, in case you need to pour it out.”
A few minutes passes by where you can only hear his soft breath – and little sniffles, his body slightly relaxing into yours as if it realizes it’s now finally home. “Practice was so hard today,” he says softly, his arm squeezing your waist a little more, your shirt getting wet with more tears, “That new choreography requires so much attention to details and we need to keep our energy up throughout all of it. I guess I wasn’t prepared to put that much work in it today.” He sighs as you let him know you’re still listening through little hums, “And we’ve just been back from Hungary, my body is still used to that time zone so I have a hard time sleeping. Also, I’ve missed you so I haven’t been able to recharge my batteries at all.” He admits, knowing he would have felt better if he saw you more in the past month.
“I’ve missed you too,” you tell him, leaving a little kiss on the top of his head.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, “For my mood and for ruining tonight.” He says softly, as more tears fall down.
“Baby, angel,” you say, your voice almost breaking to seeing your boyfriend like this, “Please don’t ever be sorry. Your job is not easy, you’re doing so much at all times and you do it well. It’s only normal for you to break down from time to time,” you whisper, running your fingers down his back, “I am so glad you decided to still come to me. It means the world. Please always come to me,” you tell him as he looks up at you, “Anytime you break down, I’ll help you build yourself up stronger, okay? You didn’t ruin anything, you’ll never do so. Your presence is always welcomed, no matter your mood. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, precious.” He says, as he gets up a little to meet your lips. You can taste the sadness – and the saltiness of his tears – on his lips as you take it away from him, take everything bad away from him, lodging it deep in your own body. So it can never hurt him again. You kiss once, you kiss twice, you kiss thrice; you kiss until there is no more sadness within him. You kiss until he can feel how you will always be here for him.
“Feeling better?” you question as you pull away from his lips, brushing hair out of his face and meeting his now shining eyes.
“Very much so,” he chuckles lightly, his forehead resting on yours, “Thank you,” he says, leaving a kiss on your forehead before finding rest on your shoulder.
“Wanna eat now?” you ask, still running your fingers along his back.
“Yes actually,” he says, looking up at you, “I’m so hungry,” he says in a whisper, still making no attempt to move away from you.
 “I made so much, I hope you’ll love it,” you answer him, still not getting up either.
“Let’s just- Let’s just stay like this for a little longer, hm?” he tells you, wrapping his arms around your middle, cuddling even closer – if that’s even possible, “Food can wait.”
Jeonghan truly feels lucky to be an idol – on most days, at least. But if he had to mention one thing, he feels the luckiest about – it’s to be your boyfriend.
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aaaaa thank you so much for reading! i forgot how nervewracking it was to post something- please like, reblog, comment and i'll love you forever!!
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shinjisdone · 1 year
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When you have an Secret Admirer - and it's not them (Pomefiore; 5)
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A love letter was left at your door and now you are searching for that ‘secret admirer’ - everyone wants to help you out…but have their own reason for it.
'I've kept writing you about the things that you did that enchanted me...but without wanting to sound cliché, I also fell for your beauty...'
form of headcanons + scenario-ish
[note: reader is gender-neutral but mostly mentioned in 2. pov; a series of everyone you meet following you. headcanon will follow each char. own thoughts on the situation. mostly nervousness, slight jealousy & stubbornness]
Part 1: Heartslabyul
Part 2: Savanaclaw
Part 3: Octavinelle
Part 4: Scarabia
Part 6: Ignihyde
Part 7: Diasomnia
It's best if you stay in your room for a few days, you thought.
After faking feigning an injury after the...flower fruit fiasco to Crowley (and him letting out a speech of how gracious he is for allowing you to rest) you've let everyone know that you needed quiet. And. Silence. Even Grim left you alone.
It was calming in a way. Just you and your thoughts, as well as the four love letters lying on the desk. Until a little ring caught your attention and you opened up a message on your phone.
Letting the image sink in it was a photo of a frustrated Vil with his make-up smudged.
'guy is taking the piss hahah' - Epel wrote you.
'What's in front of him?'
You couldn't help it. The curiousity took the best of you, especially when the Vil Schönheit looked this laughably angry.
'someone won a magic mirror on an auction and its messin with everyone. says it shows everyones real beauty when looked at but it shows nothin when we stare at it. no reflec tion and its makin Vil angrier than squirrel with a nut that dont crack lololol'
The boy sent you another image and it was of Rook trying to calm Vil down, who attempted to get the mirror out of the dorm. It made you chortle.
'lol why care about some phony mirror when Pomefiore is filled with real ones'
'I can update u (Name) if you want. Funniest thing that happens in this dully stuck up place'
Epel's comment made you smile. Even when he can get a bit temperamental, which you can't blame him for since he has to live with Vil, the boy does try to cheer you up. He must have heard of everything by now and even if he didn't, Deuce probably told him of your mood. It was sweet of him.
'Sure, might be fun to watch'.
Perhaps you shouldn't have answered like that.
Epel Felmier
Epel is no idiot.
He's aware of how you must be feeling so he tries to be seldom with his calls and presence. If it weren't for all the things that had happened this month for him notice, then it was Deuce's unusual worried frown.
He was so...quiet. Almost looking depressed when he told Epel of the first letter. He tried with effort to explain what had happened but ended up unwittingly admitting his displeasure at the change. He seemed to miss you and you've become reversed yourself. It was a bit of a bummer.
Epel tried hard to play it cool. Although behind closed doors, he'd mumble profanities in the usual accent he'd hide. These rumors were true. Big, richy colleges are full of drama, just like his village said! Why do things gotta be so unnecessarily complicated??? It doesn't make any sense to him.
Epel wouldn't bat an eye at gestures of love and grand confessions (he feels still perplexed though) but all of this was for you. It was no happenstance like usual, no, you aren't just being involved due to coincidence - all of this is happening because of you and for you.
What are ya, a princess waitin' for a knight in yer tower??? It's just????
Less upset and more puzzled. But he wouldn't know how to deal with that either.
Nevertheless, he convinced you to leave your room for a while after school hours...just a small visit that shouldn't take too long...
Rook Hunt
Oh, la la~
This is quite exciting for him. Love letters and confessions are things ususally told in fairytales, so seeing all of this unfold in this very school is quite the entertainment and Rook wants to be seated at the number #1 spot to witness it.
It's less of a creepy reason and more one of fascination. This is a one-in-a-lifetime chance and he always loved romance! He wants to see what this secret admirer is capable of. What they are ready to do for love.
Although he feels...disadvantaged? Challenged? Is it rivalry? Jealousy or true fascination?
As a hunter himself, he should know best how to capture hearts yet he feels like a freshly-born scholar looking up to his teacher. And out of all hearts they are attempting to capture it is yours...
Love can hurt...but it isn't supposed to make you uncomfortable, no?
Ever since he heard the rumors - and especially after he found out they are true - he has kept an eye on you. Without your knowledge of course...
Is the hunter learning...or keeping his prey for himself?
Vil Schönheit
The fairest of them all is a bit distracted, you see.
Aside from this wretched mirror, the senior could barely believe that out of all people...you get love letters.
However, with Leona's sudden interest in anything really and Kalim's lack of cheerfulness, things have become odd - now having rumors be confirmed by Azul (he was a witness!), Vil must believe it.
Even Epel is more on his phone than ever...
Vil isn't...apalled by the idea of you getting attention. He is just the one who usually gets it! But none of his fans' determination compare to that of your admirer. It's strange.
...Thats what he deduces first. Then it becomes ridiculous at the realization of it! You??? Getting more attention than Vil???
Do not misunderstand, Vil is not excluding the possibility of you having a secret admirer but the amount they are doing for you even leaves him a bit stumped.
He isn't sure if he should congratulate you or give into his jealousy. Jealousy of you getting more attention or your attention being snatched away from him? He isn't quite certain of it either.
It's better to distract himself with some puny mirror than keep on pondering about it.
Discreetly making your way to Pomefiore, you swiftly passed by other students, ones who had long started to avoid you. It was believed that your presence alone even summons the secret admirer...so some would take shelter from their strange pranks by getting out of your way. Sure, there were some who showed sympathy, asking about your well-being or even joking when that admirer will finally capture your heart...or if they have already.
Admittedly, you did not feel like meeting either of these kinds of guys...thankfully Epel picked you up quickly, either using his shy mask or temperamental yells to get you out of any situation - and soon, you found yourself in front of that mirror. Just as Epel stopped snickering as he showed you more photos, his head would turn to you and back to that mirror...with a surprisingly soft stutter, he pointed to it.
"Er...it ain't a phony, after all..."
...Why were you able to see yourself?
'...The one who can see themselves here is the true beauty of this school.'
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Epel Felmier
Uh, what???
Why are ya able to see yourself in every angle possible? How come the background changed to every possible scenery that suited you so perfectly? With you standing out so marvy too???
That can't be it...is that seriously one of those infamous 'pranks' of that secret admirer everyone's been prattlin' about?
...Your secret admirer?
That can't be it. The (Name) he knows couldn't...have something like that...but it's true.
As Epel watches your face bloom like a magnolia in May, he finally understood Deuce's troubles deeply. It's one thing to hear it from someone on the surface and something completely different when you feel it deep in your soul too.
The boy stood there, as his yelling on what kind of phony mirror that could be transformed into mumbles until he was completely silent. His face scrunched up into a frown.
You look real pretty. He now thinks how you've always been real fine and fair but your reflection seemed so picturesque right now...all because of the darn, stupid smile on your face that you couldn't just wipe away, no matter how hard ya tried.
Damnit...what is this feeling?! How's he gonna get rid of it?!?!
Even as he wonders how others are gonna be up on your case again, the sweet lil' apple grew sour as he also wondered how much that admirer person was making you all happy and gushy now...
Rook Hunt
And here in comes Rook.
Rather, he had been watching you enter so elegantly and now admire yourself in that fancy mirror! He knew something was up with it and spying on Epel's messages, it was only a matter of time before your lovely self would find out about it!
The young man long knew that this 'auction win' was something from the secret admirer - with how they always end up involving whole dorms in their quest to win your heart. Rook has quite the keen eye himself...
Oh, he needs to be there and witness it himself! How exciting! What kind of creative confession will pop up this time?! How will you react?! It's all just trés bien!
Less worried about the consequences that may follow his dorm and more intruiged on how this pursue of love will continue. A true fairytale!
That's what he keeps telling himself.
Rook is torn between watching a beautiful love story unfold before him and being very displeased at the fact that someone else is trying to capture your heart.
How...unfair it all seemed.
But all is fair in love and war, no?
Shall he listen and learn from the admirer? To outwit them in every way and capture your heart himself? Maybe he should show them that this is his hunt and that they shouldn't mess with him.
Regardless, he's hiding it all too well behind a smile. Even as you hide your beautiful face bashfully and Epel trying to keep himself together and not stare at the scenery in front of him too hard and not for too long...
Yes, he'll stay back, like a real hunter.
Vil Schönheit
He hears the noise downstairs and wow, speak of the devil. Or rather when he thought of the devil. You just wouldn't leave his mind.
There you are with little messages starting to pop up in the mirror you were staring at...
'I wanted to have you see all the beautiful things about you when reading my thoughts about you...so you can believe me and witness them yourself in the moment.'
Vil raises a brow as your lovely reflection was overwritten by a dainty message, curvy and in red.
'You don't know how wonderful you look with a smile. It made me fall for you.'
And on cue, a bashful smile appeared on your face.
Vil, as well as Epel and Rook, jumped as they saw the many flowery poems of love spread around your reflection. It almost rivaled Rook's grossly exeggerated compliments.
"Now, now," Vil tries to stay calm as he shushed the mirror and tried to find out what the meaning of this is and by the Sevens, don't let it be the secret admirer. No, no, no, no! He keeps on shooing this...thing away, even if it can't really move.
Or...it can?
The mirror shrunk in size and used it's little attached wings ("WEREN'T THOSE DECORATIONS" - Everybody thinks) to gracefully flutter after you.
Is this some kIND OF TWISTED JOKE
FIRST THE ALCHEMY NOTES, THEN THE MAGIC FLOWERS AND NOW A FLYING MIRROR THROWING POSITIVE AFFIRMATIONS AT YOU
This secret admirer must be some kind of prodigy...
Does Vil not even stand a chance...?
He's confused and irritated. Not ever did he think things would come to this but seeing how someone actually has eyes for his numbre #1 potato sends the senior into slight panic.
This isn't like him.
But the turmoil in his heart is all so real and vivid...as is his determination to not let you be swooned over by anyone but him.
[yeah, I kinda feel like the vibe got from 'tralala oh a secret admirer? classic at a school like this how cute :)' to 'WHO TF...!? WHY U HAVING CRUSH ON MY CRUSH STOP IT' Hopefully this one is just as good as the other ones...dont feel like it does. You see, Vinland Saga...might have a chokehold on me :) ]
[If you get the 'IS THIS SOME KIND OF TWISTED JOKE' joke then u r really cool :) The fluttering, positive affirmation mirror just popped up as I wrote...and I had more ideas for Rook than anyone else. Would feel like Vil would be even worse with that what he had with Neige...even after his overblot, he just gives these vibes. Epel is just...r u kidding me. how am i supposed to be okay with that]
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dawnoftime22 · 1 month
Text
make it okay.
| W.M -> N.R
Undeserving of a Love Like Yours, Chapter 6
Chapter Warnings: Some subjects that you can kind of count as sensitive? Not getting enough sleep, Overthinking, Mental exhaustion, cheating, sad wanda and...I think, that's it. (please tell me if I'm missing any!)
Summary: With having finished a breakup with a cheating brunette, you go to visit Kate in New York, needing a best friend to keep you company in these trying times of yours.
Series Summary: When you're stuck in a complete hole of confusion and hurt with the one you thought you loved most, a certain redhead finds her way into your life.
Word Count: 5.1k
Category: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst
A/N: I'm veeeeery tired. very. need a hug. past few days was just :( also this chapter is mostly just kate giving comfort. sorry if I wrote her in a way thats off from her? I rarely write her character, but it was definitely fun, along with lucky. enjoy :]
Series Playlist
| Started on 05/03/2024, 3:49 PM |
| Finished on 18/03/2034, 6:53 PM |
Masterlist | Series Masterlist | N.R Masterlist
<- Chapter 5 Chapter 7 ->
"Having a soft and kind heart is a dangerous way of staying alive, sure. But I don't understand being cold and cruel when most of the world already is."
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|——————————— ➳ ———————————|
After getting off the phone with Kate, you clicked on your seatbelt and put the car on drive, off to get out the side road. Before you do, you took one last look at the café and the flower shop. All that time spent, and for what, exactly?
You sigh. The wheel turns with your hand and you continue on driving, starting your journey to the airport. It wasn't a perfect day. Well, obviously, but the weather isn't perfect either. The sun shone down on you, burning up everything in its view outside while you pulled down the sun visor and turned the ac up.
It's hard not to get lost in thought as you made your way to the airport, your mind walking back to every memory, and every question you have unanswered. Is this how you're always gonna feel? Maybe so. Maybe not. But what were you supposed to do about it?
Nearly every scenery of this town that once had your heart beating of affection now doesn't even make it pulse at all. It stings, even dead, like the flower that was around it, grew thorns. You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the road.
Being in the love blackout already had you overthinking every little thing and wondering what exactly you've done wrong for Wanda to act so different, but it wasn't really you. It was her. Though, even with finding out about the new information, it didn't make things better. Of course, only worse.
Was it something you didn't do? Was it something you did? Or perhaps just a simple fall out of love. You should've known. Should've seen the signs. You didn't even want to think about it, but you can't help it. Did she leave her house in the middle of the night only for you to welcome her home? Did she gift someone else something while you got her flowers? Was she kissing another's lips while you sat there in the corner of the café, waiting for her?
You hear your phone making noise with notifications, one after another. You know it's Wanda, and your fingers twitch to reach out and grab it, but you don't pick up. Instead, you quickly put your hand out to silence your phone. If you didn't, or if you took any action that was opposite of that, you'd have turned the car around already.
You notice your vision getting blurry with tears, but you blink them away, needing to focus on the road ahead. You sigh when you stop at a red light, having time to wipe your eyes with your hands. The frustration only fueled your way forwards.
Getting drunk on New Year's Day, that was all just a ruse. Who knows if that wine was even hers that she bought. Maybe it was given by another. You would rest your head on your steering wheel by now in utter exhaustion and willingness to surrender to the unavoiding pit of pure darkness if you didn't have to keep your eyes on the road.
Another thought that distracted you from everything, was if you should call Carol. She'd probably wonder where you've gone and worry. But you decided you'll call her later.
An hour or two passes by and eventually the wheels of your car rolls up to the front entrance of the airport, the scattered crowds of people carrying luggages and trolleys making it a stark contrast from crowds outside of the airport.
Your eyes don't linger for too long, but your ears undeniably catch the PA announcer speaking, although New York was only mentioned once and it wasn't your flight. You continue on driving, getting through the many other cars sitting at the pickup site to go down to the basement, where the parking lot is.
It was packed, but not entirely. Passing by, you see shiny fresh cars, normal looking cars, and old dusty abandoned ones left by someone for some type of reason. You hoped your car doesn't end up like that, but you had no reason to let it sit in a parking lot for years. Soon, you found a small empty corner to slot your car into, easily going in.
The engine shuts down with the touch of your fingers and you get out, grabbing your bags and going over to the two-door entrance where the elevator was. Some people were there, but you try your best to simply stand and wait. Lucky you went in right as the elevator was about to arrive to the floor.
The airport lights were bright and blinding when the elevator doors open, making you squint your eyes and blink, but also remembering to step out and go over to the register section, grabbing your ticket.
Seeing as you got here early, your flight wasn't until an hour later, so you decide to roam the airport to get some breakfast first. Outside held plenty of restaurants and cafés though, so you went there.
You grabbed some breakfast from a café that caught your eyes, and sat down at the bench outside. It was pretty empty here, since most people were either at the entrance or the other side of the airport-- there, holding the more popular restaurants.
You were just about to grab your meal and take a bite after getting some liquid in your body when you feel a drop of water land on the skin of your hand.
Confused, your eyebrows furrowed as you look closer at it, the water rolling down your hand when you tilted it. You looked around to find nothing. Then the skies started to grow darker, the sun getting covered up by the clouds.
The rain came pouring down quickly after building up, making everyone else scramble to the entrance of the airport, it having a roof.
Meanwhile, a stranger somewhere at the parking lots was just stepping out their car when the rain came down. They go back in urgently, but only to grab an umbrella.
You were standing up from the bench and covering your head with your arms, about to do the same as most of the other people were doing. Running to shelter. Then, suddenly the raindrops on you stop.
Feeling the rain disappear, you slowly put down your arms and see a redhead beside you, holding an umbrella above the two of you to shield from the rain.
She didn't look at you for long, having turned her head to the airport entrance. Not wanting to get left behind, although you were sure you won't considering she had put the umbrella over you, you still quickly walk with her.
"Thank you," you say, chuckling a little as the coolness of the airport hits you combined with the rain drops on you, sending a shiver down your spine. You shove your hands in your pockets as she closes the umbrella.
"Of course." She said gently, her voice husky as she nods. Afterwards, nothing much happened. She had walked away, nearly in a hurry with her eyes focused on the big flight screen in the middle of the airport, but it wasn't entirely obvious unless you were staring closely at her. You guessed she was either late for her flight or was just trying to get to her area fast. A kind encounter with a stranger...at least there's one good thing for today.
You check the screen yourself, and your eyes searched for your own journey. When you didn't find it, you searched more panickly, until you restart from the top and it pops up. But it wasn't in its original place. Then, you go off to the side and see a bright red text gleaming with the word, 'DELAYED'.
Great. Now you have to wait longer. A bad thing right after the good thing. You sigh, but make your way to the sitting area anyway, going through security with ease.
Once you've gone to the section your plane would arrive...in a few hours. You sat down, sliding your phone out from your pocket and pulling up your direct messages with Kate, telling her you'll be late because of your flight.
After an hour passed of you being bored, scrolling on your phone and opening an app only to close it, mixed with overthinking while resting your head on your folded arms, a message finally pops up, and your fingers quickly tap on it.
Kate replied back with some film recommendations and videos of Lucky doing tricks and getting excited at the mention of your name, making you smile.
You guessed she was driving when you messaged her, but you didn't mind it, and watch the things she sent you.
It keeps you occupied for a long while, up until you forgot about time, but the sound of your plane arriving quickly reminded you.
You look up to the large windows at the side that showed the huge parking area of the airplanes. There were small cars along with someone holding red sticks to direct the plane.
Many eyes in the large room was watching everything go by, the vehicle holding all the passenger luggages, the people from that flight getting out. You guessed they were clearing it out and starting to clean up.
The other eyes in the room weren't even looking at all, focused on their phones, laptops, or simply their eyelids were closed in sleep. Most of them had probably been in an airport plenty of times to not be mesmerized by the movements and sound. Or doing work...or is simply tired.
You had enough time to finish up your movie before your plane was ready to board, making you gather your things and stand up, having finished your breakfast hours ago.
It didn't take much time to get in, easily going through the little portable hallway connected to the plane and letting the attendant check your ticket.
After finding your seat, you store your things in the compartment above, then settle down, buckling in the seatbelt. The seat beside you was empty up until a few minutes later, someone sitting in it. They did the same movements as you, but rather than watching the view out the window, they bring out a book, placing it in their lap as the plane started moving, having made sure everyone settled down and was seated.
You put on some music on your earphones and got ready for the journey ahead. It was only two hours to New York from where you were, but still you hoped it'll feel short. Maybe you'll get some sleep on the way.
|——————————— ➳ ———————————|
The plane soon landed once more, the turbulance actually smoother than most of the other ones you've gone through. The person beside you on the other hand, put the book they were reading down and grabbed onto their armchair.
You didn't pay much attention to it, more mesmerized by the tall buildings you can already see in the distance. You've been here plenty of times before to visit Kate, but the view was still stunning.
After the plane settled in its parking spot completely, you unbuckle your seatbelt and get up, just as everyone else, grabbing your bag and walking out.
A text to Kate was sent of your arrival. The walk felt longer than the flight as you made your way through security and up to the pickup site, where she was already waiting, your eyes quickly catching the familiar sight of the car and license plate.
You load the empty trunk of the car with your bags, then walk back to the front. The door opens with the pull of your hand, inside revealing the raven haired girl looking over to you with a gentle smile as you went in.
"Hey," She greeted, her voice soft and lightly pitched as she started moving the car out the side, both to get you two home and let the other cars pick someone else up.
"Hi. Sorry for being late," You say as you set your handheld bag down, buckling in your seatbelt as Kate's eyes flicker to you for a moment before focusing on the road again.
"Don't worry. It was pouring here." She goes to make a turn, getting out of the airport area and into the main road.
"I'm just glad you're safe," She says. A smile tugs up on the corners of your lips, your heart warming. Kate was always a caring, lighthearted and comforting person. No wonder you've been feeling so low...other than for obvious reasons. Calls and messages are never enough to capture the blanket feeling of being beside someone like that.
On the way, Kate asks a few questions and jokes here and there, catching up with you. There was a conversation needed to be talked about for sure, but she knows to save it for later, when you get more comfortable.
The rest of the journey to Kate's place was quiet, the silence only filled with the humming of the car and the music she put on. Your eyes watch the modern city buildings pass by. The sidewalks and roads were shining with the sheen of water, the rain having met it earlier.
It was only 4 pm, but you had a sort of sleepiness creeping up on you, perhaps from the mental, emotional and physical exhaustion mixed together. Kate notices, seeing how your eyes were too relaxed to count as just being calm. But she doesn't say anything, knowing you still wouldn't be able to fall asleep.
The car comes to a stop, making you snap out of being zoned out. Kate was gathering her things and turning off the engine of the car, moving to get out. Then you realize you had arrived at her apartment.
Your eyes go over the building as you got out the car, slamming the door closed...accidentally. Your eyes widen slightly and you grimace, looking at Kate, who had her mouth open in an O shape.
"Someone's really angry," she jokes, grabbing a plastic bag from the backseat. You gave a tight-lipped smile and went to the back of the car.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to," you quickly spew out your apology. The first hour you were with your best friend again, and you slam her car door. You grabbed your bags that were safely sitting in the trunk as she made her way to you.
"It's alright," she laughs, stepping in front of you while you slung your backpack over your shoulder. She held out a pack of dog treats to you while her other hand still held the plastic bag of groceries.
"Here." She puts out her hand further when you didn't take it, thinking you hadn't noticed. Then you look down and see what it is, your eyebrows furrowing in thought within your dazed mind.
You gasp when you realize it. "I get to feed Lucky?" You ask, your face brightening as you look back up at her. She nods, a smile on her face. You quietly cheer as she made her way to her apartment, her keys rattling in her hand as you followed behind her.
The door opens with a click, and instantly, you hear the sounds of a gentle bark and running coming from Lucky, having arrived at the front door quickly to meet the two of you.
"Hey, buddy." Kate holds the door with her body, leaning down slightly to card her fingers through Lucky's fur.
"Look. Look, it's Y/N." She points to you, making the golden dog run to you, jumping as he went. You smile and kneel down, greeting him as he started licking your face. Kate watches the excitement of Lucky from the door, a fond gaze on the two of you.
"Okay, okay. I've missed you, too. Let's get inside now," you manage to say in between laughs, standing up. You went in with Lucky staring up at the pack of treats in your hand, lightly pawing at it with his tongue sticking out his mouth.
"Wait, I need to put my stuff down first." You pull back the pack of dog treats away from him while Kate closes the door. You can see the impatience he tried to cover with a look of calmness, but you know he would jump on you if he needed to get the treats.
You kick off your shoes and set down your bags in the bedroom you usually sit in whenever you visit Kate, Lucky following you around and circling playfully around you at times.
"He's really missed you," Kate says with a laugh, putting her grocery bag on the kitchen counter to unload and store the contents into her fridge and cabinets.
"I can see that," you say quietly, focused on opening the bags and putting food in his food bowl. Before setting it down on the floor though, you hand feed him a treat, patting his head with your other hand gently as he instantly ate it.
"As much as I would love to play around with him though, I should probably go change and shower." You say, having set down Lucky's food bowl, giving him one last longing pat and standing back up.
"Do you wanna watch a movie when you're done?" Kate asks, turning to look at you as she got done storing everything.
"Yeah...I probably need it anyway. You can choose." You say with a nod, and Kate watches you go to your bedroom, off to get yourself cleaned up, unpack, and unwind. She knew exactly what you were saying, and her heart ached just a little at the mere thought of your troubled mind.
You close the door behind you, taking a deep breath in once you were inside, letting it out as a heavy sigh after, walking to your bags to slide the zipper open.
Everything seemed to hit you all at once, your shoulders feeling heavy as it moves along with your hand to grab your clothes. You go to the bathroom, fatigue within your movements as you close the door, pull off your clothes, and turn on the shower.
The warm water running down your skin welcomes you, letting you relax a bit and your muscles letting go of its tensions. The steam filling up a bit of your breathing from the shower makes your body feel comforted, the barely noticeable movement of it going to everything that was glass in the bathroom, fogging it up.
A gentle yawn leaves your mouth, finally feeling the exhaustion take you over. But you still had some energy within you, so you willed yourself to clean yourself up and wash your hair, then turning off the shower once you were done.
You dry yourself off, then put on your clothes. When you were about to go walk out the bathroom though, you had a thought and turn on the sink for a quick second, splashing your face with cold water before drying your face with your towel once more. Now you were a little more awake.
You get out of the bathroom, parts of your hair dripping slightly. Since you already had your clothes on, you decide to unpack everything else, storing your shirts and pants in the closet.
Your eyes flicker to the bed, and the urge to fall into it was strong, but you hold yourself back. If you went into bed by now, you knew you probably wouldn't be able to get up anytime soon.
Once you've dealt with unpacking, you put your bags off somewhere in a corner of the room and move to the door, getting out the bedroom. Out in the living room, you see Kate, already sat down on the couch with a movie set up on the tv. She notices you and looks up.
"Hey. I made us some fries and nuggets." She gestures her hand towards the plates of fries and nuggets accompanied with sauce, making the smallest smile cross your face.
You sit down next to her, grabbing a few and taking a bite, the crunch sounding out as she looked at you eating, resisting a smile when you hummed in delight.
You shift your position on the couch, getting comfortable while Lucky jumped up, laying beside you, only to then move to lay on both of your lap and Kate's, but his head was on your side, making her shake her head at her dog's antics.
Your eyes focus on the screen when Kate hits play, one of your hands patting Lucky's head and traveling down to his body fur while the other one grabs the chicken nuggets and fries.
Kate gently pokes your shoulder multiple times, making you turn to look at her. She had fries in between her teeth and mouth, sauce sitting on the end of it for extra effect of blood, looking like a vampire's fangs. Instantly, you giggle, to which turn to laughs when one of the fries fell, leaving only one in her mouth.
She laughs herself, and quickly go to retrieve the fallen french fry. Although, right as her fingers held it, Lucky had moved and turned to her side, chomping on the fry. Kate grabs the fry in her mouth, eating that before he could try to steal it from her too.
"Hey! That's not yours." She exclaimed, but Lucky only looked at her innocently, licking her face for a moment, probably asking for more. She laughed, but gently push him away, needing to see the tv too.
"You're lucky you're cute." She shakes her head when Lucky had stopped, and settled down in your laps again.
"He's not just Pizza Dog anymore." You start, and she turns her head to look at you, the both of you having something in your heads.
"French Fry Dog," you say simultaneously, the sound of your voices mixing together along with your soft laughs afterwards. Lucky only tilts his head, confused of the sudden sounds from the two of you.
You focus back on the movie, getting invested in the story. The nuggets and fries were slowly going down to an empty plate, counted as snacks for the movie, but still filling up your stomach. The day had transitioned into nighttime now, time going by quickly.
When Lucky moved to settle beside Kate instead, probably needing a new position just as you did, you move to lay down, your head on the armrest and your arm dangling off the couch. At some times of the movie, you space out, your mind occupied with thoughts.
Kate's eyes were completely on the tv, comfortable and fully focused on the story. Your eyes flicker over to her for a split second before returning to the screen, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip.
"Kate?" You whisper, barely even within the sound volume of a breath. She hums and looks over to you, your body seeming weak against the couch. Lucky was now sleeping beside her.
"What if it doesn't get better?" Your eyes travel down to the floor, not meeting her eyes. Her eyebrows furrow at the suddenness of your sentence, and she sits up more properly.
Having felt the change in your demeanor, Kate quickly pauses the movie, putting all her attention on you. "Don't say that," She counters in a gentle tone.
"You'll get through it. You always have," She says, her voice a soothing sound through the night air. The crickets make noise in the background, having replaced the sounds of the movie now that it was paused.
"Do you think it was me?" You whisper, sitting up because your cheek was starting to get sore from resting against the armrest. You fiddle with your fingers and look at her as Kate quickly shakes her head.
"No. You've stayed through it with her in the worst of times and the best." She takes in how you fiddled with your fingers, a hint to your dark mind. A small gentle, although bit of a sad smile goes over her face as she thought of the softness of your heart.
"Everyone has their mistakes but after all this time I've known you, I think you have been so brave and just...such an amazing person." She says, knowing the many gestures of gifts and time and reassurances you've done before, both to strangers and people you know.
"The point is..." She takes a breath, trying to find the right words to say. She wanted to tread carefully, not wanting to accidentally say something wrong. You watch as she thinks, her words sinking into your mind.
"Don't blame yourself," She finally says, looking directly into your eyes to make sure you heard her completely and isn't lost in your head as she said it.
"The love was there, but you reached the end of it," she points out, unfaltering in her honesty, but her voice was gentle. The truth was, it was doomed from the start. You had it in the back of your head all the time. But there seemed to be such a high chance of it coming out alive from the beginning. Yet, all that was a simple trick your minds put on.
"But why did she...do that?" You ask hesitantly, your heart pained with cracks. You knew people did the things they wanted to, with a reason or not. But this was different. Kate purses her lips, a sigh leaving her mouth.
"Honestly, I'm not who you should be asking..." Kate says with a soft chuckle, a tinge of the sound having a nervous tone, but she needed to help you get out than dig yourself deeper.
"But maybe she didn't want to hurt you," She says with a gentle shrug. Her mind worried it was a bad thing to put out, but she sees your shoulders slumping in defeat.
"...But it did anyway." You sigh. It'll always hurt. Whether you'd like to admit it or not, no matter the ways its done in. She had nothing to say to that.
The two of you sit in quiet silence for a minute, needing the break to think. Lucky shifted slightly in his sleep, and Kate gently puts her fingers through his fur before looking at you once more, seeing your gaze lost in a haze of your thoughts.
"Now, come here." She lets go of Lucky and slowly pushes herself off the couch with her hands, standing up and turning to you. You raise your eyebrows at her, curious of her next moves.
"You're desperately in need of...a teddy bear hug!" She gently tugs on your arm, pulling you up to stand.
"Aw, no!" You joked with a chuckle as you get pulled into her embrace, her arms squeezing you tightly as if you were simply a plushie.
You hug her back though, relishing in the tight yet comforting embrace of her arms. Your body relaxed, feeling the weight on your shoulders slowly disappearing just slightly.
"Thank you." You say under your breath, pulling away from her. She slides her hands into her pockets, giving you a reassuring smile.
"It's what I'm here for." She said quietly with a nod, her eyes traveling over to the clock. Her mind jumps to the memory where you seemed sleepy, right in the car earlier.
"You should get some rest. Have you slept at all ever since you went to the airport?" She asks, nudging your shoulder with her knuckles. A faint thought of you in your worst times went through her mind just for a moment.
"No...but--" You look over to the tv screen, seeing you had just a quarter left to finish of the movie.
"Go," Kate says gently yet slightly sternly in a whisper, cutting you off. Lucky was already sleeping. She was still energized, but she could go to sleep at any time at the moment. Kate was just more concerned about you, hating to see you avoid taking care of yourself.
You look at her for a moment longer, your eyes flicking over to Lucky to think it over before giving in, your head moving in a gentle nod.
She gives you an encouraging smile, letting you go to your bedroom. As you did so, she started cleaning up, getting the plates from earlier and putting them in the sink. When she hears your bedroom door close, was when she could have her heart get just a tad lighter.
You make your way to your bed and turn the dim lights on, falling into bed easily. A sigh leaves your mouth, and you wanted to spill out your feelings, but all that was more on your mind was sleep.
The mattress was soft, and you wanted to sink into it, yet still, your head falls asleep after minutes of tossing and turning while the night delved deeper into a form of comfort.
|——————————— ᗢ ———————————|
Wanda, on the other hand, hasn't been sleeping at all. She kept thinking over the memories of the past few months. It was like a contest of who can act like they can care less. At first. Then, she saw your efforts and got guilty, wanting to isolate herself instead.
The day you were waiting at the café. She was going to actually have lunch with you. But the person she was with had convinced her to stay. Her heart screamed no, but her mind was far from it. She was already falling out of love with you, so what could it hurt?
It seemed like the right thing at the time for her, and it was easier for her to put the blame on herself than making you overthink about the smallest things and make yourself the villain instead. She didn't want to hurt you. Your heart was the softest she's seen. But she only ended up hurting you further. It was a situation that only had loss.
Then, the birthday was an actual mistake.
She thought it'd be nice to get a day off to herself...and with another, hoping you'll still believe that she was at work, although the both of you had doubted it by that point already. But she actually forgot.
Your past, she knows. How many people you've drifted off from and never really got one to stay or even stayed yourself. Then you met her, who was struggling to believe how anyone could love her. And you decided to stay. For once, you poured your whole heart into it because you promised yourself not to run anymore. For once, she had someone in her life that truly cared for her.
And she did that.
Her legs curl further into her body, the bed being colder than the nights before. Was this what you felt whenever you slept alone and she was off doing whatever?
Her chest caves in and her heart gives up, the walls whispering back to her of her quiet cries.
end of chapter 6. <3
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enviedear · 7 months
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you're in the wind, i'm in the water ⟶ anakin skywalker
description ⌙ having to flee your home to be under the watch of the jedi knight anakin skywalker, you attempt to form some semblance of happiness, despite his cold demeanor. pairing ⌙ anakin x female princess!reader warnings ⌙ mentions of food and eating, but i think that's all. lmk if i missed anything. word count ⌙ 2.5k
canon means little to me lmao, so read as you wish, but i'm in my anakin renaissance so pls feel free to flood my inbox with any and all things him <3
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he was strange. that was the word you decided upon. this jedi knight sent from coruscant to protect you.
he watched you, so intently, and you tried to chalk it up to the protection order— but no guard under you before had been so keen on your every breath. so you sat, silent in the study of the safehouse, watching the small fire begin to ember out from its setting and trying to ignore his blue eyes cast down at you.
anakin, that's what jedi obi-wan had referred to him as. when you first heard it, you told him it was pretty. his simple thank you reply seemed fitting at the time, but now, you're almost sure that you must have offended him.
the room settled into a stillness that felt almost oppressive as anakin's eyes bore into you. you left your thoughts of him to refocus on the burning wood, only to stare down at a now lifeless fire. it was as if the flames had mirrored your own sense of isolation, flickering out, leaving you in the dark.
reaching out for more firewood, your hand is abruptly halted in mid-air. you look up to find anakin standing right in front of you, his eyes darkened by the dim light. his voice was low and laced with a hint of frustration. "it's nighttime, princess."
he releases his hold over you, fueled by the force, and you let out a sigh. "i'm sorry. time just slipped my mind. you must be tired."
he responds with a curt huff, his emotions hidden beneath the veneer of his jedi training. you gather your belongings from the study and follow him in silence to your room. this had become a ritual ever since the protection order had been enforced.
for months you have been walking on what seemed to be a very thin glass when around this strange man.
back on your home planet, you were surrounded by loving handmaidens who attended to your every need, engaging in heartfelt conversations, and showering you with affection. but on this mostly deserted planet in the far reaches of the outer rim, anakin was your sole companion. he didn't dote on you, he rarely engaged in conversation, and there was an undeniable absence of warmth in his demeanor.
you missed home desperately—your land, your people, your family. you harbored a deep resentment for the enemies who had invaded and devastated your world. they had stolen everything from you, and in this unfamiliar place, you felt anything but safe.
as the two of you approached your door, you hung back, allowing anakin to check the surroundings before you entered. "it's safe," he announced, still avoiding eye contact. "princess."
you settle onto your bed, now surrounded by your books from the study. anakin's gaze fixed on your collection. you ventured, your voice barely above a whisper, "would you like to borrow some?"
his eyebrows knit together slightly, prompting you to continue. "some of my books? i've noticed you looking at them often."
finally, his eyes met yours. "i'm okay," he replies, and then turns to leave. just as his hand found the doorknob, he adds, "i'll come to fetch you in the morning."
you didn't respond, simply watching him exit and swiftly locking the door behind him. anakin was a puzzle you couldn't decipher. none of your parents' guards had ever acted this way. formality, you were accustom, but this level of rigid apprehension was an entirely new experience.
when you'd first arrived, you had tried to establish some sort of friendship. you were adept at navigating social interactions, having been by your parents' side for political matters since the age of fifteen. you had dealt with all kinds of people—brash, rude, insincere, and kind. but this jedi, anakin, he was unlike anyone you'd ever encountered.
he never strayed far from your side, except for when he slept, yet he managed to disappear into the shadows of any room. even outside, during the few hours he allowed you to venture out, you could feel his presence, his watchful eyes bearing down on you. it was as though you were a gilded prisoner, trapped with a hungry beast waiting for you to falter.
as you drifted into sleep, uneasy thoughts flooded your mind, pushing you into a restless slumber.
the next morning, anakin knocks at your door. he has a signature four knock, with the last being far louder than the others. you assume it's for safety but he's never let you in on the security protocol.
you've been awake for a few minutes and have already dressed, but you take your time before opening your door for him. it was the small things, small rebellions, that you enacted in a diminutive display of mutiny.
"princess." his greeting feels icy cold, despite the adherence to common decorum.
"jedi," you reply, your voice unexpectedly fiery. you had yet to openly express your displeasure with him, but the way his lips twitch for a fraction of a second made you want to challenge him further.
you'd endure anything if it meant he'd stop being so inscrutable.
anakin motions for you to lead the way, and you do, heading toward the small dining room. the table is set with two bowls of porridge placed on opposite sides. it was the same every morning. initially, you had attempted to convince him to let you prepare the food, but he'd stubbornly resisted. perhaps he thought this was the way you were used to, or maybe it was a method of control in his mind. whatever it be, his enforcement of such behavior had grown tiresome.
you found your seat and tried to ignore the weight of his gaze as you ate. the food was plain, but you wouldn't dare complain. perhaps out of fear, maybe a lingering threat that he might lash out, although he never had. but you could feel it—your fear.
anakin was an enigma, unlike any jedi or man you had ever met. despite being only a year apart in age—you, freshly twenty, and he, a young man of twenty-one—he seemed worlds apart from anyone you'd encountered before.
you were nearly finished with your meal when he interrupted your thoughts. "we're running low on food and supplies. you'll accompany me to the market today."
his voice was soft, in stark contrast to his nature. "the market?" your question feels foolish as it escapes your lips, but you don't care. you have no knowledge of any nearby market, and the prospect of venturing out into a new environment excited you.
"have you never heard of it?" he asks, his eyes narrowing.
breaking eye contact, you reply, "i have. i was simply unaware there was one here. how far is the walk?"
he inhaled deeply before responding, "about an hour. wear comfortable footwear."
nodding, you decide not to push the conversation further, though curiosity gnawed at you. the prospect of escaping the confines of the safehouse, even for a short while, held a certain allure, and perhaps it was an opportunity to uncover more about your mysterious protector.
anakin leads the way to the bustling market, with a palpable silence the entire walk. the vibrant activity at the market is a stark contrast to the quiet routine of the safehouse. alien vendors peddle their wares, hawking exotic spices and colorful fabrics, and you can't help but feel a rush of excitement as you take in the vibrant scene.
as you navigate through the crowded market, anakin's eyes remain vigilant, scanning the surroundings for any potential threats. it's clear that he takes his role as your protector seriously. you, however, are drawn to the colorful array of stalls and the alien dialects that fill the air. the market feels alive, and for a brief moment, you forget about the weight of your circumstances.
approaching a stall adorned with an assortment of intricate jewelry, you spot a vendor, an older twi'lek woman, tending to her display. her vibrant head-tails sway gracefully as she arranges her wares.
without hesitation, you engage her in conversation, switching to her native language. "kassurra," you say, your voice laced with warmth.
the twi'lek woman looks up, her eyes widening in surprise as she meets your gaze. "kassurra, may ril help vashna," she responds, a smile tugging at her lips.
anakin, standing a few paces away, seems taken aback by your sudden change in demeanor and language. his eyes dart between you and the vendor, a mixture of confusion and curiosity in his expression.
you and the vendor continue to converse, discussing the intricacies of her jewelry and the stories behind each piece. anakin remains on alert, his protective instincts never wavering, but there's a shift in the way he watches you. for the first time, you think he may see a different side of the princess he's been tasked with safeguarding, one that isn't confined by the walls of the safehouse.
anakin watches you, silently observing this unexpected connection that has sparked between you and a stranger in a distant corner of the galaxy.
as your conversation ends, the woman offers you a small pendant with a colorful gemstone, its significance tied to a story of resilience. you're touched by her gesture and purchase the pendant, a tangible reminder of this unexpected encounter.
as you and anakin bid farewell to her and make your way through the market once more, the atmosphere feels different. the air is charged with a newfound sense of connection, and anakin's once rigid demeanor seems to have softened, if only slightly.
you continue to explore the market, and encounter a group of children playing a lively game in a nearby alley. their laughter infectious, and you couldn't resist joining in. anakin watched as you played a simple game of catch with them, your laughter echoing through the alleyways. it was a rare moment, being able to let your guard down and enjoy a moment of pure joy.
as the sun began to dip below the horizon, signaling the approaching end of your visit to the market, you and anakin head back to the safehouse. the journey back was less tense than the trip there, but there was a subtle change in the air. anakin's demeanor, though still guarded, had softened ever so slightly.
back at the safehouse, you settled in the dining room, some fruits you had purchased now adorning the table. anakin, still wearing his jedi stoicism, finally speaks, his voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.
"you seemed… different at the market," he says, his eyes fixed on you.
you glance at him, a faint smile playing on your lips. "it's easy to forget the weight of my title when i'm surrounded by such vibrant life. i felt like a person, not just a princess."
anakin nods slowly, as if processing your words. "you should be cautious, though. we can't afford to let our guard down."
you understand his concern, but the brief respite had given you a glimpse of the world outside the safehouse, and you yearned for more. "i know, anakin. but there's more to life than just surviving. sometimes, we have to remember what we're fighting for, and whom."
anakin's gaze holds your own for a moment, and then he nods, a hint of understanding in his eyes. it was a small, almost imperceptible step, but it was a step toward bridging the gap.
the days that followed your visit to the market saw a small transformation in your interactions with anakin. the connection that had sparked between you and the vendor, and the brief moment of joy shared with the children, had left an indelible mark on you. you couldn't help but yearn for more moments like those, moments that reminded you of the vibrant world beyond the safehouse's walls.
anakin, too, seemed affected by the outing. while he remained vigilant in his duty to protect you, there was a new delicacy in his gaze, a flicker of warmth that occasionally surfaced. it was as though the walls he had built around himself were starting to crumble, revealing a person beneath the jedi facade.
one evening, as you both sit in the study, he suprises you by reaching for one of the books on the shelf, a collection of poems from your homeworld. he flips through its pages, his fingers tracing the elegant script.
"these are from your planet, aren't they?" he asks, voice gentle.
you nod, a smile tugging at your lips. "yes, they're poems from my people. would you like me to read one for you?"
anakin hesitates for a moment before nodding. "i'd like that."
as you begin to read one of the poems, the words flow from your lips with ease, carrying the essence of something you miss so dearly. anakin listens intently, his eyes fixed on you, and when you finish, he speaks softly, "it's beautiful, the way your people express themselves."
"thank you anakin, i... miss them very much." and encouraged by his interest, you continue to share more.
he listens, and for that you thank him silently. being able to share a part of you feels freeing, and you wonder at how easily the dynamic had shifted.
but after hours of reading, sharing stories, and talking, openly for once, you can't help but to yawn. anakin notices, "you're tired, we should head to bed, princess."
you want to oppose but the sleep settling into you prohibits the response, "i guess so, but i enjoyed this. i," you try to search for the right words, "i like being able to talk to you like this. i was scared you had grown a resentment for me."
he gives you a curious look, so you continue, "i thought that you may not like me, or rather, this arrangement."
he sighs, "no, it's not that. i just, was scared to say or do the wrong thing. i'm not often left alone with beautiful princesses."
your heart skips a beat at his words. anakin's admission catches you off guard, and you can't help but feel a rush of warmth spreading through you.
with a shy smile, you respond, "i appreciate your honesty, anakin. and for the record, you've never said anything that made me resent this arrangement. in fact, i find our conversations… quite refreshing."
anakin's blue eyes meet yours, and you see a softness in them that you hadn't witnessed before. as though the walls that had separated you were crumbling further.
as you both walk to your rooms to retire for the night, there's a newfound sense of closeness between you. he escorts and checks your room, as he always does, but this time, there's a different energy in the air. his protectiveness is still there, but it's accompanied by a tenderness that wasn't evident before.
entering your room, you face him. "thank you, anakin, for today. for everything."
he nods, a small smile gracing his lips. "you're welcome, princess. sleep well."
"you as well." and you do truly mean it.
as you lay in bed, you can't help but reflect on how much has changed between you and the knight. what started as so tense, transformed into something more genuine.
as sleep gradually overtakes you, you can't help but wonder where this journey will lead. the future is uncertain and frightening, but one thing is clear— you're no longer alone in the safehouse, no longer silently watched. you have something sweet to hold onto, and that, for now, is more than enough.
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nagaparadise · 6 months
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Chasing Sandstorms
You are a bounty hunter that spent the last six years in pursuit of the notorious "sandstorm" Silvio. At long last, you finally found your target, but you quickly come to realize that killing him might be harder than you think.
I had this one sitting in my drafts for a while, so I think now is a good time to get it out! (Plus it kinda counts for teratovember 😆)
Female reader x Silvio (diamondback rattlesnake naga), explicit, no warnings
If you enjoyed, please help support me on ko-fi!
It was hard to close the distance between you, but you pushed yourself even further than you’ve gone before. You quickly raised your revolver, and though you didn’t have a clear aim as you did before, you were comforted in knowing that there was nobody around if you happened to miss. The crack of your revolver rang out into the air but narrowly missed Silvio’s head. Then you fired another, and another, and another, to the point where you only had half the ammo left. Tears of frustration began to drip down your cheeks, and your breathing became uneven to the point where it felt like you were choking on your own breath, but you continued to push your body forward. Everything is against you now. You couldn’t aim, see, or breathe properly, but there was still one thing you could do: run. The naga you hated, that you’ve been obsessed with for years on end, was right in front of you, and there wasn’t a single chance that you were about to let him go. So no matter the cost, you continued your perusal until your legs cramped, determined that you wouldn’t let him live long enough to see the sun rise. But to your surprise, he took a strange turn and slithered inside a small storehouse. If you had any sense of reasoning still intact, you would have thought that this was a trap, but at this point, you were operating purely on instinct. Just as you had reasoned before, you could easily get a clear shot so long as he was cornered, and now you’ll finally get that chance.
You nearly tore the door off its hinges as you ran into the storehouse after Silvio. Luckily, the storehouse was mostly barren aside from a couple of barrels of grain that were placed unevenly across the floor, stacks of hay that lined one wall, and of course, Silvio, who was in the middle, slumped over and hands rested on his waist as he attempted to catch his breath. You made no effort to restrain yourself as you flew at him, toppling his exhausted humanoid body over with ease.
Silvio yelped in surprise, and you snarled in response. Silvio lay helplessly on his back while your legs were straddled over his tail, and pointed the barrel of your gun at his nose.
“Haah…haah… Finally… I’ve got you now, bastard.”
“Haah…haah… Definitely looks that way,” Silvio tried to force a grin, but even he could admit that looking down the barrel of your revolver intimidated him. “The terror of “Sandstorm” Silvio ended by a stunning bounty hunter who had him straddled… Heh, I don’t mind the sound of that.”
“Shut up!” You exclaimed as you brought down the hammer of your revolver with a satisfying click. “Are you really cracking jokes as you’re about to die?!”
“Ain’t life just one big joke anyway? If ya can’t laugh at that, then what can you laugh at?” Silvio responded with a cocky grin. “One thing I should point out… Is that I’m not that close to death just yet.”
Before you had a chance to react, you felt a constricting pressure around your chest, then a weight around your arms, and finally, the sound of a rattle shaking just behind your head. It was Silvio’s tail, constricting around your body, pinning one arm to your body, and compressing around your hand holding the gun. You tried to move your finger around the trigger, but you were quickly beginning to lose feeling in your hand, and any sensation was instead replaced by a heavy numbness. 
“Aw, look at us! Quite the stalemate, if I do say so myself.”
“You…bast…ard!” You choked out. It wasn’t as if you were actually choking, and neither were you losing circulation in your hand, but his tail was tight enough that you couldn’t move an inch.
“Hey, look at me,” Silvio said with an uncharacteristically quiet voice. “Just calm down a sec, will ya? Look, we got off on the wrong foot, but I think we should look past that.”
“Don’t act like this was a misunderstanding! You’ve been stealing and terrorizing innocent folks for years! Your crimes aren’t something that can just—”
You just happened to look down during your rant, and under your groin, a thin vertical slit opened up on Silvio’s tail.
“What the hell is that?” You questioned with a slight tremble in your voice.
“Fuck… Just ignore it. It’s nothin’, really.”
“You can’t fool me! That’s a hidden weapon, isn’t it?”
“N-no! I’m serious, it’s nothing!” Silvio tried to plead, but his body betrayed him. Slowly, from under your groin, the tips of his twin cocks began to emerge.
“This doesn’t look like “nothing” to me! Don’t tell me these are your…”
“Oh my god, yes, they’re my cocks! Listen, you can’t blame me for gettin’ a little excited when I’ve got an attractive bounty hunter straddlin’ my tail and waving a gun in my face!”
You wanted to retort, but you couldn’t peel your eyes off the cocks that had now fully unsheathed themselves. Hard and throbbing, the shafts were an unusual forest green, which transitioned to a bright yellow towards the tips. Both were ribbed by lines that ran vertically down the shaft. The first thing that came to mind was how much they resembled the lava cactus without the spikes. The second was a thought that you would keep hidden deep in your heart until the day you died.
Silvio took notice of how mesmerized you were, and a sly smirk played on his lips. “Like whatcha see, darlin’?”
“No,” you lied.
“Y’know, I wouldn’t mind lettin’ you take ‘em for a ride. Think of it as a reward for all your hard work. After all, nobody’s ever gotten close to pinnin’ me like this before.”
“You are a piece of work, you know that? Nothing’s going to stop me from killing you!”
“Then let’s compromise: first we can have some fun, and then you can kill me. Actually, I can’t think of a better way of goin’ out!”
Your grip remained firm on your revolver. But at the same time, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his enticing cocks. You gulped as you began to seriously contemplate his words. You would never admit that you’d want to have sex with him, but the thought of those thick cocks stuffed in your hole lit a fire in your belly. You glanced back at his face to see that infuriating grin creeping along his lips. You knew that you were playing right into his hand if you accepted, but curiosity and arousal were starting to get the better of you.
Silvio’s hands began to run along your thighs, fingertips barely ghosting the fabric over your skin as they slowly moved up and down. “Whaddya say, darlin’?”
You tried to hide your increased breathing, but there was no way he couldn’t feel your chest rise from under his tail. You were hit with a sense of relief that he couldn’t see your maddening blush in the darkness.
“You know that it’ll only take me a split second to kill you, right? Which means that by the time we’re done—”
“Yup, you’ll blow my brains out. That is, if I haven’t already blown yours,” Silvio’s fingers began to skirt around the underside of your thighs. One hand continued until it reached your groin, while the other began to loop over the opening of your bottoms. You shivered under his tail, both from one hand grazing your skin under your bottoms and his strong fingers tracing your slit from under the fabric.
“Please, there’s no way you’re that good.” You tried to maintain your composure as he lifted you with his tail, giving enough room to slip your bottoms off. In one swift motion, your underwear, bottoms, and shoes had been shed from your legs, and you gasped at the sudden cold breeze brushing past your exposed skin.
“Have you ever been with a naga, darlin’? I can guarantee you that you won’t ever forget this night,” Silvio couldn’t prevent a gasp from escaping his throat once he saw your exposed pussy. With his cocks vibrating in response, he used his tail to position you over his cocks. His cold tips felt tantalizing against your warm folds as he teasingly rubbed them over your opening. You wanted to beg for him, to plead him to stuff you, but you didn’t want to show how eager you were. Unfortunately, your body exposed your desire, and you began to involuntarily grind against his throbbing tips.
“I see someone’s excited.”
“Shut up.” 
With a chuckle, he used his tail to slowly lower you onto one of his hard cocks. A drawn out moan escaped from your throat as his cock slid into your tight pussy, stretching you to your limits. A jubilance rose through your body as his cock slithered along your walls, and reached the end of your cave, allowing your opening and clit to rest at the base of his tail. It had been so long since you’ve felt such satisfaction that you felt like crying out in joy, but you couldn’t bring yourself to express your exuberance when the cock belonged to the naga you hated the most. Though as much as you tried to hide your bliss, Silvio was able to read you like an open book. Your face was twisted in both disdain and pleasure, but you were fervently rolling your hips along the base of his tail, hoping to get any sort of friction against your walls and clit, which elicited a dreamy sigh from Silvio.
“Some bounty hunter you are. You’re practically begging your target to fuck you!”
“Go to hell—Ahhhhhn!” Your cursing was interrupted by Silvio sneaking a finger over your clit and mercilessly pressing on it. You unconsciously jerked your hips in response, which only encouraged him to continue rolling his index and middle over your throbbing bud. 
“Fuck… I’ve barely done anythin’ and you’re already wet. God, you’re so cute,” another cheeky remark from Silivo that evoked blood to rush to your cheeks. You tipped your head back, hoping that he wouldn’t see, but no matter what you did, he knew that you were enjoying every moment of his teasing. Then without warning, you began to feel his cock slowly slip out from your wet pussy. His fingers continued to play with your clit as he made his descent, but stopped as the tip of his cock reached just above your opening. Then, he stopped all movement. You held your breath as you expected him to do something, anything, but he continued to remain still. After the excruciatingly long pause, you finally looked back down, ready to yell at him, to tell him to hurry up, but you stopped yourself when you saw his placid face glistening in sweat from the moonlight. His eyes were hooded, and smile seemed oddly sincere. For a second, you thought you were looking at your beloved partner. But the illusion was quickly broken when his lips drew apart to reveal a sinister grin, accented by his fangs. “Ready, darlin’? ‘Cus I ain’t holdin’ back anymore.”
You had no chance to retort as he instantly slammed his cock into your pussy. The pleasure and pain forced a shriek from the bottom of your lungs, but Silvio was quick to coil his tail around the base of your neck and over your mouth.
“Shhh, don’t be too noisy now. We don’t need the townsfolk interruptin’ us.” Silvio cooed as he continued his swift and merciless thrusts. You couldn’t help but agree as you clenched around his thick cock, trying to get as close to him as possible, hoping that this pleasure would never end. His hands latched onto your inner thighs, fingers gently digging into your skin as he massaged them while he heaved his cocks upward, forcing the base of his cool tail to meet your swollen opening. Though you found his kneading delightful, you wished that his fingers were attending to your sensitive bud instead. But you figured he would be more keen on teasing than satisfying. Ultimately, you figured that you couldn’t complain too much when his second throbbing cock bounced against your tummy in time with his thrusts, occasionally rubbing against your clit. But to your surprise, his hands slowly moved from massaging your thighs, to reaching around to your ass. His thrusts slowly came to a pause as his fingers dug into your skin to spread your cheeks apart. Your eyes widened as you looked down at Silvio and you tried to ask what he was doing, but your voice was muffled under his tail. Once again, he looked back up at you with the same serene smile.
“I know just how much you want both of ‘em, but I don’t think you’re ready just yet for a two-in-one. Maybe next time, darlin’,” Silvio whispered, and you wanted to remind him that there won’t be a next time, but came to accept that he wasn’t going to remove his makeshift gag anytime soon. “I know this ain’t the best way to do it, but, I should be slippery enough,” he said to the side. Just as you wondered what he meant, you felt something wet prod at your second hole, then promptly pushed through, stretching your rectum until you were aligned with the cock nestled in your pussy. You wanted to cry out just from the pressure in both your holes, but you held back as much as you could. Even if he was handsome, even if his cocks felt fucking amazing, you couldn’t let either of those distract you from your goal. 
Once again without warning Silvio began his assault, relentlessly assailing your holes. Your body went limp in his tail as it narrowed in on the pressure in your abdomen, causing your grip around your gun to loosen and allowing it to fall next to Silvio’s head with a dull thump. Screams and whimpers continuously poured from your lips, interspersed with moans of Silvio’s name. He couldn’t hear you from under his tail, but he could tell exactly what you were saying from the vibrations that ran through it. 
“That’s it, honey. Tell the world whose finger you’re wrapped around.” Silvio’s grin grew wider as he watched you weaken under his grasp. But he wasn’t done yet. He wanted to see you ravaged yet satisfied, exhausted yet glowing. Pulling out all the stops, he began by moving one hand back to your sensitive clit, rolling his fingertips over its wet and sensitive surface. You flung your head back as a scream rose from your throat, and you arched your back in his tail, using whatever strength you have left to grind along his fingers. Then, while you were unaware, the rattle of his tail sneaked through the opening of your shirt, vibrating over your throat, collarbone, and stopping in the valley between your breasts. Then, he started to vigorously shake his rattle over your stiff nipples, causing you to arch back towards Silvio, and trapping his rattle between your breasts and the portion of his tail around your body. You shook uncontrollably as every nerve exploded with pleasure, as his tail muffled your cries of delight, his rattle quivered over your nipples, as your thighs and his tail became drenched in your juices, as his cocks stormed your swollen holes, and his fingers dug into your clit and cheeks. 
Just as he had hoped, you were quickly reduced to his little whimpering sub. But his confident facade was beginning to wear, and he was close to crumbling under the pressure as well. Silvio’s pace began to slow, and his thrusts started to come at random intervals. After one sloppy heave after another, Silvio pulled out slightly, leaving just the tips at your entrance. His chest sank and rose erratically as he tried to catch his breath, remaining in the position for a while. This time, you didn’t pay any mind to the long pause. You slumped in Silvio’s tail, exhausted, but satisfied. You got all you wanted from him and more, to the point where you even considered letting him go after you were finished. But your heart ached from under the intoxicating waves of pleasure, and you were starting to regret the thought of letting him go.
Your complex emotions quickly dissipated when you felt his cocks shoved inside your holes one more time. His tail crashed into your soaked opening and thighs, and you felt an eruption of cum spread inside your holes, which began to drip from your openings. Another wave of pleasure pulsated through your body, and you screamed in time with Silvio’s cursing. After the wave subsided, you slumped back into this tail, your nerves forcing you to unconsciously grind against his tail as you rode out your orgasm. Being so thoroughly exhausted, you were close to passing out on the spot until you felt a sharp jolt run through your abdomen. 
“Fuck… I haven’t felt like this in a long damn time. You oughta give up your bounty huntin’ business, ‘cus I think you’re the one for me, darlin’,'' Silvio tried to make out in between his deep breaths. In his fatigue, he dropped his tail from your mouth, which was dripping with your saliva. You considered his proposal for a split second, but upon mentioning your occupation, you remembered your objective.
“N-no way… In hell,” you spat out as you also tried to catch your breath. “No matter what, I will kill you.”
Silvio laughed lazily in response. “Well, you’re gonna hafta wait a bit. You’re in my knot, and it takes a while for the barbs to flatten.”
“Barbs?” you repeated, suddenly making sense of the sharp sensation in your holes.
“Yup. I’m sure you’re feelin’ them by now. Sharp little buggers, they are. Honestly, it’s why I don’t like stuffin’ the same hole. I love how tight you humans are, and I love fillin’ y’all with cum, but man do I hate feelin’ my own barbs,” 
“You little bast—aaahhhhhh,” just as you were about to curse him, you were cut off by another eruption of cum spreading through your holes. Though you were shocked by the initial appearance of the barbs, you quickly got used to the sensation, and even found it enjoyable. But you had to acknowledge that the fun was over, and you had to get back to business. “Th-then, how long do these things last?”
“Mmm… I dunno. An hour or two at least,” Silvio said as he began to yawn, and moved his hands from your ass and clit to stretch one above his head, while the other that glistened with your fluids moved to cover his mouth. Then, he began to slink his long forked tongue over his fingers, savouring your juices. “Fuck, you taste good. Maybe next time you’ll give me a full-course meal.”
“How many times do I have to say it, there won’t be a next ti—ah, ahhhhh,” once again, you were cut off by another wave of cum. You were starting to wonder if he was doing this on purpose. But Silvio just grinned and returned his hands to your thighs, gently tracing circles on your skin with his thumbs.
“Well, in any case it’s going to be a long while before we’re outta this rut, so I suggest ya get comfy. We’re both tired, the sun is about to rise, and between you and me,” Silvio cut himself off with another large yawn. “I think we would be better off sleepin’ tonight off, then resuming our little chase when we’re rested up. Whaddya think, darlin’?”
“Do you seriously expect me to sleep when I’m wrapped up in your tail and have barbs stuck in my—f-fuck!”
“It’s not that bad, is it? After all, you seemed to have really enjoyed getting fucked in it. And if ya want, I could use my rattle to lull you to sleep.”
“The last thing I want is to hear anything from you!”
“Oh well, can’t say I didn’t try. G’night, darlin’!”
“Wh-what?! Wait, at least let me go, you bastard! I know you’re not sleeping! Let me gooooo!!”
You desperately pleaded, but even if Silvio had uncoiled his tail, you were still stuck on his cocks. A cheeky smile played on his lips as he drifted to sleep, and you couldn’t help but notice that he looked painstakingly serene under the stark moonlight. He was a charming devil when you saw him up close, and after having spent an intimate night with him, you couldn’t even bear to pull the trigger. A chuckle rose from your lungs at your own sentimental nonsense. Six years of pursuit going down the drain just because you had amazing sex.
No. 
You couldn’t let him get away from you just yet. 
He was a dangerous criminal, and you promised the townspeople that you would kill him. And you always follow through on your promises. But at this moment, fatigue wore heavy on your body, and you could barely keep your eyes open.
Just a couple of hours should be enough. In a couple of hours, his barbs will flatten, you’ll wake up before Silvio, and after he unravels his tail, you’ll grab your gun and pull the trigger. Yes, that sounds like a solid plan. But until then, some rest wouldn’t hurt, would it?
Your eyes fluttered open, and you were first met with the harsh rays of the sun. You slowly picked yourself up from the wooden floor of the storehouse, both hands reaching up to feel the blanket around your shoulders, while your thighs twitched uncontrollably. When you removed the blanket - which you realize that you’ve never seen before - you were shocked to see your nude lower body along with white dried flakes that covered your thighs and floor. You were about to panic until you recalled what happened the night before - or more realistically, what happened just only a couple of hours ago. The excruciating and wild chase, the excitement that your dream was about to come true, the mind blowing sex, the slight pain of letting him go, the sight of his face sleeping serenely in the moonlight. Then, you noticed your bottoms neatly folded next to a barrel, with your revolver and a scrap of paper sitting on top. You rushed to your items, ignoring the pain in your abdomen as you hastily dressed yourself. At first you barely registered the scrap paper, but curiosity got the better of you when you saw it next to your feet. You picked it up and read the oddly neat writing.  
Thanks for keeping me company last night.
Hope we get the chance to meet again.
Yours truly, 
“Sandstorm” Silvio 
You were livid, enraged, furious! How could you be so careless to let him tempt you like that when your gun was right between his eyes? You immediately tore up the scrap paper and got to your feet, rushing out of the storehouse. The tingling in your abdomen and thighs hindered your speed, and the townspeople tried to stop you as you rushed to locate your horse, but you couldn’t bear them any attention, nor could you explain your failure. You fled the town the moment you took to your horse, leaving behind a crowd of dazed and confused townspeople. You realized this was an impulsive decision. You have no trail, no hint, absolutely nothing to guide you in his direction. But there was one thing you did know.
The chase was still on. You two will meet again. 
And when you do—
You will kill him.
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pokedashwarrior55 · 6 months
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I gotta ramble about Showtimeshipping and Digital Circus for a hot minute before this thought disappears into the Void forever.
I just LOVE the potential of a Caine/Pomni dynamic in a one sided disaster ship kinda way. I see alot of shippers like making Caine the romantic one. Whether its Showtime or Royalshipping it seems Caine is boisterous and loud, therefore he's the haughty romantic. But he is afraid of Moon's advances, "Let's get outta here before the Moon get's frisky!". He's also an AI made for a children's point and click adventure carnival game by a cooperation in the early 2000s. Gooseworks has stated at Glitch con that he lacks alot of human emotions. I see no reason he would be outwardly romantic in the slightest other than his overenergetic and passionate personality.
I find it more hilarious if Pomni, the anxious and probably overlooked in her past life girl that she is, emotionally latched onto Caine in some way or another. Either from his personality being everything she wished she could be, bold and confident, simply seeing him as a powerful being that is the last remaining hope she has of returning to who she was, or a lighthearted Stockholm syndrome emotional dependency I dont' know. Maybe it's simply she found his voice attractive and spiraled from there. Pomni becomes angry that she's attracted to this floating teeth with eyes and just screams. Jax catches onto her little infatuation very easily and makes fun of her without outing her, making it a back and forth with them.
Caine eventually realizes his new player is unhappy and becoming increasingly unhinged very quickly. He doesn't want another intrusive abstraction, especially since she just got here, so he begins spending more time with Pomni trying to get her to chill. His purpose is to entertain and provide a fun escape from daily stress, so seeing a player as stressed as Pomni is tugs at his sensors. He needs her to be as accustomed to the world as everyone else is. If not he failed as a video game and failed is own programing. It's his duty to ensure she is comfortable and having fun.
So now Caine is hyper vigilant of Pomni's life and emotions. He takes her on adventures just for her to cheer her up, just the two of them. This is to ensure the quest is specific to her, that others aren't at risk to make her spiral further, and that he has full attention on her so he can assure her it is a painless and harmless quest, since he can always fix her or get rid of an issue if it becomes too much. All of it was just meant as a safety procedure, but Pomni sees it as coming on to her with his eagerness to spend all this alone time together. Human perceptions see it as a date, which is not even a thought for Caine. She's still jumpy and nervous and touches him alot. Like alot alot, which Caine thinks is her telling him she's lonley of course! So he gets her gifts to make her feel like she belongs and that she has things to keep her saine. Off course, this all interpreted by Pomni in a Human relationship lense and the attention deepens the hole Pomni has now dug for herself.
Eventually Caine rambles his frustrations about Pomni's behavoir and how no matter what he tries he can't seem to make her happy here to Bubble, who repeats some of his words to the cast that is mostley gone ignored, except for Jax (who already knew) and Ragatha, who finally understood what was happening and feels bad for them both. Pomni is struggling with a crush on a probably dangerous and confused AI while said AI is getting flirted with by a Human and is driving himself mad trying to decipher her strive. She steps up to actually let Caine know what he is missing and this is when true Showtime would start, with Caine realizing he does enjoy helping Pomni and Pomni coming to terms with her emotions instead of just screaming at herself for having them. From there they can have a cute, if mostly aromantic, fluffy friendship that almost borders on dating, but never quite gets there with Caine's limitations.
She's feeling claustrophobic from the tent one day and he generates a small area for her to explore stressfree to take her mind away from that feeling of being trapped. He talks about having creations both from Jax saying, "is this another one of your NPCs?" and Caine saying, "You know how I don't like people seeing my unfinished work" so he is a learning AI that enjoys creating and seems somewhat artistic, despite his limitations and bluntness. He enjoys helping her feel at home, despite the circumstances and Pomni grows more comfortable with herself by his radiating confidence, yet they can both be equally frantic and chaotic if the scene needs it. It's both a timid/bold dynamic and a chaos duo and I love it.
Ok that's my showtime HC dump byeeeeeeeee
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