Tumgik
#this is a re-do because I didn’t like the first one
acotarxreader · 2 days
Text
Other Worlds
Azriel x reader
Synopsis: Nesta accidentally pulls you from our realm into theirs and a certain Spymaster can't help but be enamoured.
Original Request: "So I was wondering if you could do like Reader is from the modern world but ends up in the ACOTAR world, and ends up like falling in love with one of batboys."
Warnings: Fluff, mentions of cuts from a fall, my silly wordplay
A/N: I loved writing this, it really had me in my silly sense of humor (at one point Azriel is jealous because he thinks Xanax is a person) and just like also so happy to have written my first request! I hope you like it Anon and tolerate my silliness.
------------------------------------------------------------------
“Do you think she’s dead?”
“Hard to say, you fall that height and would expect it” Nesta gently rocked the body back and forth with the sole of her shoe and you groaned.
“This is exactly why you shouldn’t practice without Amren Nesta” Feyre bit out.
“And how was I supposed to know that a human would fall out of the sky? And besides, I did catch her before she hit the ground” Feyre gave a huff to her sister’s bored tone. 
“But not before all the trees Nesta”
“Details, details”
“Rhys is gonna kill you, we have to move her before he finds out” Feyre got level with your marbling body, sticks and leaves sticking out of your hair from your fall through the canopy above. Nesta folded her arms across her chest in protest as Feyre rolled you onto your back, a deep whimper escaping your throat.
“Well she’s not dead”
“For now” Nesta raised an amused eyebrow before rolling her eyes and squatting to lift your feet as Feyre caught your shoulders with her own disapproving look. 
“Her clothes are so odd, is it continent fashion?”
“Hard to say, the material on her legs is so…dense?” Nesta replied, a thumb rolling over the cuff of your jeans, your Doc Marten burying into her sternum.
The two sisters carried your weak body through the hillside towards the cabin they had retreated to for a break from the Illyrians. They reached the humble home after a small uphill climb in the Winter air and gently placed you down on the couch again. The two stood then at the foot of the couch, unsure of what to do next with their new house guest, a thud from outside followed by a swear interrupting their thoughts. 
“Shit it's Azriel with the food supplies you forgot”
“You forgot” Feyre returned
“Whatever, here help me cover her” The two sisters sheathed you in a thick woollen blanket as Azriel pushed through the door causing the females to shoot straight up, standing shoulder to shoulder to try to hide you behind them. 
“Hey, I dropped a bottle of liquor on the path sor- what are you two doing?” he looked suspiciously at the two, plopping the crate of food down by the mouth of the door. 
“Nothing!” their heads snapped to one another at the same time, cursing their simultaneous reply. 
“You two have the same look on your face that Cassian had when he was trying to hide the blood ruby he got from Summer Court after his experiment with arson” he gave a laugh that turned nervous when the females didn’t do the same, another almost panicked glance shared between them. 
“Well if that’s all Az, thanks for coming” Feyre made a quick movement to Azriel, catching his shoulders and turning him back towards the door, Nesta taking a wide stance to try to obscure more of you. 
“Fucking hell” your voice rattled out in pain as you pushed to sit up, the wool sinking down to your lap as your heavy hand found your bleeding head. Azriel’s eyes grew to nearly the width of his skull as he looked frantically between Nesta and Feyre. 
“She did it!” they said in unison again, pointing to one another. 
“Oh Rhys is going to kill you” he whispered angrily, moving to the couch as Nesta sidestepped, throwing an anxious look at Feyre.
“Whe-re the fuck a-m I? What happ-ened?” your hand traced through your thick hair, branches catching in the locks. You squeezed your eyes together tightly, trying to bring the cozy cabin into focus before swinging your legs to the ground and supporting your weight with one arm. Your movement went entirely still as you looked up to find the three members of the Night Court staring at you with matching bewilderment. 
“Am-am I dead?” Your stare landed on Azriel’s wings, conclusions forming quickly.
“No unfortunately not” Feyre elbowed Nesta into the ribs as Azriel analysed your whole figure with his hazel eyes, his shadows swirled around his feet until they wrapped around yours. Your shriek of pure terror caused them to dash back to their master. 
“You're okay!” Azriel tried but it was too late, you were in full panic mode, your system shutting down in utter distress until you felt your blood pressure hit the soles of your feet after hitting the ceiling, sending you into a loss of consciousness. 
“Nice going you big bat, you killed her” Azriel gave a dirty look towards Nesta, her eyes rolling for the thousandth time that day. 
“Send for Madja-”
“-Rhys will kill Nesta for this”
“Well I think her little magic trick will die without her” Feyre folded her arms into her chest, weighing up the options. 
“We could give her the tonic that's here, let her heal without everyone gawking at her at home. I’ll go back with Nesta and explain, by the time we’re here again perhaps she’ll be healed and Amren will be home from her travels and can send her back” 
“And am I supposed to play healer Feyre?”
“Well you have more experience with healing because of the battlefield than us and besides, Nesta isn’t known for her bedside manner” Azriel sighed before rubbing a hand across his face at Feyre’s logic, she showed him how you got here in his head to help her point.
“Okay fine, go but if she dies, I’m not to blame” They nodded in agreement, taking another look at your floppy body before heading for the door with their things, kicking the box of supplies out of the way. 
Azriel lifted your legs slowly back onto the couch before fetching a dish full of mountain water and healing tonic. He hovered the cloth over one of your large gashes that had cut straight through your straight-leg jeans. He looked over your body, unable to hide his curiosity towards the university logo decorating your sweatshirt, the deep purple colouring at the very ends of your hair as well as the multiple pieces of metal piercing through your ear's cartilage. Despite the series of cuts and bruises generously coating you, Azriel believed you might be the most beautiful creature he had ever seen and you were entirely out for the count. 
He sighed, dropping the cloth back into the dish and going to make tea with another healing concoction. He rolled his shoulders back and tucked his wings in as tight as possible to minimise their appearance before gently tapping your shoulder to bring you around. When that didn’t work, he fetched one of Cassian’s training boots and ran it beneath your nose, you stirred immediately. You went to shoot up in shock, his strong steady hand, gently pressing you back down. 
“You’re okay, you…you just fell but you’re okay.” he said as softly as possible, the ease of his voice unable to settle the rising worry across your face. 
“I-I fell?” he gave you a small nod, not entirely a lie he thought to himself. 
“Fucking hell my head-” you once again ran your hands down your face, the dry blood slightly flaking in the movement “-do you have any paracetamol or something?”
“Para-what-almol?” Azriel’s eyebrow raised in question before he reached for the tea he made for you from the small table behind him. You removed your hands from your face and looked towards the squatting Illyrian, taking in the beautiful male in front of you, pain being replaced by embarrassment. You pushed up despite his disapproval look, returning to the same position you were in before you fainted.
“Sorry, I should-I should go? Emm…where are we?” 
“This is Velaris”
“Velentia?! How did I get here?!” You shot to your feet in surprise, the blood rushing and sending you shakenly back to the soft fabric almost as quickly. 
“No, I’m not sure where that is but you’re not there, here take this” he passed the cup with a half laugh and you looked down unconvinced. 
“No thanks man, not here to be poisoned” Azriel scoffed in slight offense as he watched you wince to put it back on the small table. You look down at your freshly ripped jeans, your fingers tracing the fresh wounds. 
“I’m Azriel” His voice brought your eyes back to him as he passed you the soaked cloth, allowing you to run it over the gashes. 
“YN” You gave a small smile back, fighting the singe of the elixir. 
“YN? That’s an odd name”
“You say that as if there’s an Azriel at every petrol station in town” You half laugh, more questions entering Azriel’s head than answers. Azriel rose to his feet and headed into the kitchen with the abandoned groceries as you finished with your leg, starting on your forehead. 
“No paper here or something?” Azriel looked towards you as you took the cabin in in all its glory, Feyre’s artwork the object of your marvelling. 
“They’re Feyre’s, she was here earlier. She went a bit mad up here when she found out Rhysand was her mate”
“Mate? Oh she’s like Australian?”
“What? You speak in riddles” he laughed, joining your side on the couch with his own cup of tea. You looked at it with an air of hunger, not unnoticed by the Spymaster, he looked from the cup to your face. 
“You can drink it YN, it’s not poisoned, here look I’ll take a sip” You watched him take a taste before offering it back to you where you took it from him, its fresh floral taste having an almost reviving effect, you drank it almost one gulp. 
“Now, I’m afraid you can’t go home just y-”
“Fuck I knew it! What’s in this tea?! I’m being kidnapped!” You shot towards the door, almost knocking the dish of water all over the floor, sending Azriel swearing. You reached your exit and with a wave of his hand, Azriel locked it from the inside.
“YN, no one is going to hurt you, you just, this is going to be hard to explain, one of my…friends brought you here by accident” You still tried to pull on the knob of the door, glancing from it to Azriel as he stood to close the distance.
“Stay back! I know self-defence!” Azriel couldn’t hold his laugh at the small human girl before him threateningly looking at him. He went to catch your arm softly, only for you to send your heavy-booted Doc straight into his instep, followed by the base of your palm up and into his nose, the shock of your sudden movement catching him off guard. He groaned slightly reaching for his nose as it bled, missing your hand reaching for the keys in your pocket and the mace on the keychain. Azriel roared at the feeling of the spray of chemicals burning into his eyes, sending him onto the floor writhing in pain.
“Fuck! Fine! Die in the snow!” He shouted out, waving his hand and releasing the door. You hardly heard him, whipping the door back as the now night air lashed in near-freezing gails of icy snow. You fought the tornado of air as you put the oak door between you and it, sliding down the wood to the ground, your body screaming in pain still from the fall. Azriel sat up, still blinking hard to clear the burning liquid. 
“And you thought I’d be the one to use poison” A breathy laugh left him as his red eyes watered and you found yourself matching his smile.
“I promise I won’t kill you, if you don’t kill me” he gave you a genuine look and for some reason you felt such a wave of trust hit you. You agreed, too tired to run from him or face the snow and you rolled your head along the door before looking back at the Illyrian, tracing your eyes along his linen shirt and leather pants
“Are you in a motorbike gang or something?”
“Gods I hope you start making sense soon” he pushed up from the ground, doing his best to not untuck his wings for balance. You looked up at him and reluctantly took the hand he offered, noting the deep scaring covering them like burls on a tree. He followed your eyes to his hands before he gingerly took them back to replace them across his still-stinging eyes. Azriel threw himself back down on the couch and you followed suit.
“I’m sorry about the-” you gestured to your own eyes and he gave a small laugh.
“It’s okay, I’m impressed a human would have such speed, to be honest”
“Human? And what are you a fish?” 
“No” he didn’t return your laughing tone, only reaching for your disregarded cloth and placing it over his eyes. Your hand ran down the side of your jeans until you retrieved your phone, the screen fully destroyed from your dance with the trees. 
“Great” you sighed, throwing it down on the table, Azriel watching the action. 
“Nesta couldn’t save your mirror from the fall?”
“Nesta? Rhysand? Azriel? No one called like Dave around here?” 
“Not really the fashion in Prythian” he smiled.
“Prythian? Like from the children's stories?” you chuckled at him.
“No, Prythian like the realm” he tossed the cloth back into the dish, the red in his eyes subsiding. 
“My mom used to tell me stories about Prythian and these like great bat boy warriors with these really big-big-win…” you trailed off as you looked to see the shape of Azriel’s wings over his shoulder. 
“Really big? Well, thanks for the flattery” He laughed aloud as your face greyed. 
“Fuck, it’s happened, studying for my physics final has finally driven me insane, this is all in my head, a stress-induced dream” Azriel reached to your thigh and gave you a gentle pinch following your matter-of-fact speech, causing you to flinch a little.
“Okay so not a dream…”
“Not a dream, my brother’s lovely ma-wife’s sister, pulled you through a sort of rip in the realm and landed you here…not very carefully might I add” He said softly so as to not have you black out again, you nodded very very slowly to his words. You faced away from him, fixing your stare on the smashed phone, you thought of your physics lectures. The theories of tears in the fabric of time being possible, the possibility of alternative realities, the possibility of unexplored realms before settling finally that this wasn’t a possibility, this was a reality. 
“So, okay, right-” you bit your lip, working through the thought, Azriel trying to push the shiver down his spine away at that action “-okay cool, right, so I’m gonna need like an excuse note or something for the exam and then, right, cool, Xanax maybe”
“Is Xanax a friend of yours who can help?” Your head shot towards Azriel at his genuine question and you let a roar of laughter leave you. 
“Definitely although I don’t think they’re here somehow” you offered with a smirk, Azriel feeling a weird sense of jealousy at not being the object of this smile. 
“Well, we’ll make do and try to get you home” You nodded sheepishly to him.
“Do you not want to go home YN? You seemed pretty eager when you tried to break my nose earlier” he smiled and you gently knocked into his shoulder playfully. 
“I mean…I’m not in a rush to get back to the test” 
“Okay well, it will be a day or two before my friends are back and Rhys has calmed down over Nesta bringing you to greet us so you’ll have time. As for now, care to have something to eat? You can help me make it so we both know neither is trying to poison the other” he gave a light laugh while standing again, and you followed him along to the kitchen. 
For the rest of the night, the both of you spent your time cooking, laughing and teaching one another about your worlds. Azriel explained the Courts, his role and his family’s as well as giving a shortened version of their relationships with one another. In return, you told him about your studies, what Instagram was and how democracy works. Azriel wasn’t sure he’d ever felt such strong feelings towards someone he’d just met before and it confused him almost as much as what microwaves were. 
“Here you go, a glass of our best liquor, you deserve it” Azriel passed you the tumbler as you sat cross-legged on the couch beneath the woollen blanket you were previously hidden under.
“Oh slay”
“No, I didn’t kill anything to get this for you” You almost choked on the drink with the laugh that left you at his confused words. 
“No Azriel it’s like-actually maybe I’ll explain drag culture to you another day” He nodded eagerly at the prospect of learning more, sinking into the couch alongside you with his own drink. 
“So have you girlf-mate type person like Feyre and Rhys?”
“No, no girlf-mate type person-” he teased back and you sighed, clipping him with the pillow from under your elbow “-do you?”
“Nope, to be honest, I don’t think I’ll be missed from home, I lost my parents young and never really found my flock at college either” you shrugged. 
“How could anyone not miss you YN?”
“You have to say that, you’re my captor”
“Actually Nesta captured you, I’m just minding you-” You returned his smirk “-speaking of which, time for sleep, tomorrow they should be back to figuring getting you home for your exam” you whined like a misbehaving child but you’d been fighting off sleep since dinner so agreed with him.
He lead you to his room in the cabin before offering you one of his clean linen shirts and leaving you to sleep. You practically swam in the fabric, with no wings or Illyrian muscles to fill it out, feeling the same way about the colossal bed that you slipped into. You looked up at the ceiling where Feyre had painted delicate little consolations, the day washing over you, had all your prayers finally been answered? You smiled as you gave into the sleep that hunted you all day.
----------------------------------
“We are sending her back!”
“Amren can’t guarantee she’ll end up in her realm, she’s not going anywhere!” You wiped the sleep from your eyes, Azriel's blunt tone waking you from the best sleep of your life.
“She can’t stay here Az!”
“And what if she ends up somewhere a lot worse, she coul-oh YN you’re awake” You looked from the doorway between the two gorgeous Illyrians. 
“This is Rhysand”
“Oh, your majesty I suppose” you did a half bow after stepping closer to the males, a small laugh leaving Rhysand at the action. 
“Don’t flatter him YN”
“YN, flatter me if that would make you happy” he grinned, Azriel rolling his eyes. 
“You’re exactly as described” You shrugged at him, settling down on the couch between where the lllyrians stood
“I would like to apologies for Nesta’s…interuption to your day to day life and more so for…probably being all Nesta when you woke up” Rhysand offered, Azriel folding his arms tightly across his chest as he inspected you closely, you in his shirt may now be his favourite sight. Rhysand watched the slight change in his brothers demanour at your presence, this increasing his worry. 
“Now YN, it’s time we get you back to-”
“-I heard you guys say you can’t say for certain I’ll get home” you cut across Rhysand, his eyes darting back to you, Azriel trying to bury his smirk.
“I’m confident we know how to get you there”
“Okay cool, so Feyre will accompany me” 
“What?” Rhysand bit out.
“Well its just if you’re so sure you’ll get me in the right spot, surely you’ll have no issue allowing Feyre to accompany me yanno, since you’re confident” Azriel lost his battle in holding in his smirk. 
“She’s got you there Rhys, if one of us wouldn’t do it, why should she?”
“Because she doesn’t belong here” Rhysand chewed out, locking eyes with his brother.
“She is sitting right here and she isn’t going near any wormhole or whatever if you’re not sure I’d get there safe” You forced his attention back to your with your sharp words.
“Who said anything about worms?”
“YN has a habit of speaking in riddles” Azriel sat alongside you, giving you a somewhat proud smile, his arm instinctively resting on the back of the couch behind you. 
“YN, I’m sure you’re great but I can almost guarantee that our world is vastly different to yours, it’s a lot to take on for your mortal mind, perhaps we could arrange a home for you in the mortal realm?” you tilted your head side to side weighing up his offer before Azriel replied for you.
“I can teach her our ways, I can school her like you did Feyre” Rhysand sighed out but couldn’t deny the way Azriel looked at you and you at him was deeply familiar to him. 
“Fine, a week, you may stay a week and if it doesn’t work out then the mortal realm it is, we’ll set you up with a nice manor and you’ll live very comfortably”
“Like Downton Abbey?” you teased despite your audience.
“I’m not familiar with that region”
“Is that where the drag culture is?”
“Of sorts” you laughed at Azriel and his quizzical words, his hazel eyes so enamoured by the sight, further cementing Rhysand’s suspicions. Rhysand sighed deeply ensuring you agreed to the terms and to be taught by Azriel before he left to continue to reprimand Nesta. 
------------------------
Over the next week it became abundantly clear that despite being from two different realms, you and Azriel were made for one another. You both had the same humor and intelligence as well as thirst for knowledge. You continued to teach him about your home and he taught you about the new world around you and the more you learned the less you wanted to leave. On your first day in Velaris, you thought your heart may burst with the growing love for the place and even more so for your guide. 
“And then Cass completely blew the building up, I thought the vein was going to burst in Rhysand’s head” Azriel tilted his head back and laughed loudly while you both crossed the bridge of the Sidra, your last official day in the Night Court before you had to decide. Somewhere along the way, Azriel and your hands became interlocked and forgot to separate.
“You live such insane lives here”
“And you could too” he stopped you in your tracks, his eyes warming over your body as he looked down on you, the sinking sun reflecting off of the snow. 
“Maybe with less arson though” he added with a grin you loved so much. 
“Az, I’d love to stay but-”
“-No, just say ‘Az I’d love to stay’ and leave it there” he fought his faltering smile as you looked down at his shoes, both hands held in his now. 
“But Az-” you couldn’t find the end of the sentence, the words lost on Azriel’s lips as they met yours with such searing passion. His mouth slotted over yours with such a perfect fit it was like they were always meant to be there. You stood further on your toes to deepen the kiss as his hands traced around the nape of your neck and yours landed around his torse. You separated when the need for air almost matched the need to never let go. 
“I-I can’t remember the end of my last thought” you laughed lightly and he grinned. “So you’ll stay?”
“I don’t think I was ever going to be able to walk away from you…well not without mace anyways” you smiled back into another kiss, the second of many many more.
----------------------------------
Let Me Know What You Think Friend!?
667 notes · View notes
books · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media
Writer Spotlight: Rose Sutherland
Rose Sutherland @rosesutherlandwrites is a Toronto-based writer who grew up a voracious reader with an overactive imagination in Nova Scotia (where she once fell off a roof trying to re-enact Anne of Green Gables!). She's been to theatre school in NYC, apprenticed at a pâtisserie in rural France, and currently moonlights as an usher and bartender—in between writing queer folktales, practicing yoga, dancing, singing, searching out amazing coffee and croissants, and making niche jokes about Victor Hugo on the internet. She's mildly obsessed with the idea of one day owning a large dog, several chickens, and maybe a goat. A Sweet Sting of Salt is her debut novel.
Keep reading for more about character arcs in A Sweet Sting of Salt, Rose's favorite fanfic tropes, and some excellent reading recs 👀
Can you tell us about A Sweet Sting of Salt and how you came to write it?
A Sweet Sting of Salt is a queer (f/f) historical reimagining of the classic folktale of the selkie wife, set in 1830’s Nova Scotia. I call it a “reimagining” because while it draws on the folktale, it’s not a retelling of that tale so much as a story playing out in relation to that mythology. I’d wanted to write something centering a love story between two women for a while, but the initial spark came from a Tumblr post! It suggested the idea of selkies testifying before the UN as victims of human trafficking, which reminded me of all the things I disliked about the original folktale and its inherent darkness that is generally glossed over, starting me down the rabbit hole toward finding my own story.
How did you approach research for A Sweet Sting of Salt, and what is a favorite historical fact you learned?
I joke that I did a lot of research by osmosis: I already had a lot of base knowledge about the location, having grown up in Nova Scotia, and then set the story in a period that I’ve been absorbing information about in a low-key way for ages—1832 is also the year of the student rebellion in Les Mis, so I’ve been gleaning tidbits about this era since I first got into the musical and book back in high school. However, I had to do more specific research into things like British divorce law, period midwifery, and animal husbandry. I also visited some small, hyper-local museums on the South Shore that gave me an invaluable glimpse into daily life. I also did some fun practical research into things like “How long does it take to walk from x to y?” and “How cold IS a plunge into this body of water in March?” (Spoiler: Very.) 
A fact that fascinated me but didn’t make it into the book was that some early European settlers in the area were granted lands by luck of the draw, pulling from a deck of playing cards: Each card was assigned to a specific 50-acre lot, and whatever you pulled, you were stuck with it.
When we meet them, Jean and Muirin are isolated for different reasons. What do you hope readers still searching for their people take away from A Sweet Sting of Salt?
That there’s always hope. It’s valuable and important to keep reaching out to the world around you, to be open, and not cut yourself off—the biggest reason for Jean’s loneliness at the beginning of this story is the way she has come to keep everyone around her at arm’s length, shutting herself away out of fear, and refusing to let anyone truly get to know her because she thinks that’s the best way to protect herself from being hurt again. Reaching out to others can take a real act of courage, especially if you’ve had bad experiences in the past, but “your people” will reach back to you.
Found family elements play a strong role throughout the novel, within supernatural and mundane settings and across species. Was this something you intended from the beginning, or did this grow out of writing the relationship between Jean and Muirin?
I always intended for Jean to have a found family of this type, which is something that a lot of queer people identify with, but those bonds also got stronger and more meaningful as I wrote, especially once Jean and Muirin began growing into their own family unit—their new relationship and the real danger that comes along with it put pressures on Jean’s other relationships that I hadn’t originally considered. Disagreements with Anneke and Laurie over Jean’s choices arise from their deep concern and love for her, and her own love and care for them, reflected in her responses, is a big part of what made them feel like a real family, for me. Jean and Laurie always having each other’s backs while also being the first to call one another out on their bullshit ended up being one of my favourite dynamics in the whole book.
The selkie myth carries an inherent element of transformation. What is a character transformation you most enjoyed writing, and why?
On a character level, the change in Jean’s worldview following a conversation with her childhood sweetheart meant a lot to me—it heals an old wound for her. I love how grounded and self-assured she is afterward, in spite of the daunting task still ahead of her. But my favourite transformation to write was the antagonist’s mask-off moment, where they directly threaten Jean for the first time. It’s so sly and coded so that only she will understand the menace behind it, a real dun-duh-dunnn moment, which was a lot of fun for me—I also enjoy the foreshadowing elements in that exchange.
This is your debut novel. Did anything surprise you about getting it from manuscript to published book?
Oh my gosh, how LONG it took! After I finished the original draft and decided it was worth attempting to publish, I spent over a year revising based on my own thoughts, input from beta readers, critique partners, and my mentor, Maureen Marshall (whom I connected with through the now defunct Author Mentor Match program, and whose book, The Paris Affair—about a young gay engineer attempting to help Gustave Eiffel secure the funding to build a certain celebrated Parisian landmark— is coming out in May). After that came a full year of querying agents and getting rejected. A lot. People loved Salty but weren’t quite sure what to do with her or where the book would fit in “the market,” which was hard to deal with at the time but is hilarious in retrospect: Salty was snapped up less than a month after she finally went out on submission! But that was back in 2022, and the book is only coming out now. Publishing can be painfully slow.
You’ve written fanfic in the past—do you have a favorite fanfic trope?
I’m not sure either of these counts as a trope, but I adore a character that’s “pure of heart, dumb of ass”, and love a truly unhinged Fanon Explanation For Canon Object. As a longtime Les Mis stan, I ship Tholomyes/Getting Punched. If you know, you know.
Do you have any favorite queer retellings of folktales you can recommend?
Right here on Tumblr, I’m a huge fan of @laurasimonsdaughter, who writes delightful riffs on classic folktales, truly inventive urban fantasy spins on old lore, and her own original folktales. 
I’m currently reading Spear, an amazing queer, gender-bent, Arthurian novella by Nicola Griffiths. Anna Burke’s books Thorn and Nottingham are up next on my TBR. Lately, I’ve been reading a lot of brilliant queer historicals that aren’t retellings (I recently loved Suzette Meyr’s The Sleeping Car Porter and Heather O’Neil’s When We Lost Our Heads) and wonderful historical retellings that aren’t queer (I highly recommend Molly Greeley’s beautiful, heartbreaking Marvelous, about the real-life couple that inspired Beauty and the Beast). Queer, historical retellings aimed at adults seem to be considered quite niche, still, and can take some digging to find! So, throwing this out to Tumblr: Do you have recommendations for me?
Do you have a writing routine? Is there a place/state of being/playlist you find most conducive to your writing practice?
My routine is chaotic at best, but I find I do my best work earlier in the day, so I usually scribble in my journal while I have breakfast, and then progress to working on my current project as I drink my second cup of coffee. I’m lucky—my day job is an evening gig, which mostly allows me to write on my preferred schedule… but I’ve also been known to have a bolt of inspiration strike at 10pm and dash home to write until well past midnight on occasion. Nothing quite like the hyperfocus zone!
What’s next for you? Are you working on anything you can tell us about?
No official news yet, but I’m currently working on a story set in 18th-century provincial France based on a true unsolved mystery of the past. It has me delving into a very specific branch of French folklore, and I hope future readers will pick up on common threads with one popular fairytale in particular. I’m really excited about where this one is headed, but keeping the details close to my chest for now!
Thank you Rose for taking the time to answer our questions! If you love queer fantasy and old folktales, grab yourself a copy of A Sweet Sting of Salt, and be sure to share your queer folktale reading recs with Rose on @rosesutherlandwrites!
204 notes · View notes
caintooth · 2 days
Text
while I’m on the subject of Hannibal:
I actually heavily disagree with metaphors portraying Will’s capacity for violence as a “beast set free” type narrative. It feels antithetical to so much of canon. And before you say “did we even watch the same show”, let me ask YOU that!
My thesis here is that Will’s ability to cause harm to others (and specifically his ability to kill) is not latent. To clarify, I agree that his desire to kill may be latent, but not his ability.
By this I mean, when we first meet Will Graham, actually committing violence does not come naturally to him the same way thinking about it does. He kills purely out of instinct, to protect the vulnerable, in exactly the way the FBI has trained him to do so.
He is essentially a domesticated dog. He is “bred” with blunt teeth, as we all are, as regular people who have a social contract not to murder one another. And Will does behave exactly as one would expect a trained, working dog under so much stress to behave: he occasionally bares his teeth, snaps to give warning, growls if you look at him the wrong way. But at the end of the day, Will bites only who he is supposed to bite, in the way he has been trained to bite, and can only bite as hard as those blunted teeth allow.
Early canon Will Graham might watch wolves hunt and study their hunting, he might have twitchy dreams about chasing rabbits… But because of his lifelong strict training and flat molars, he has never actually been capable of behaving how a true wolf behaves.
The show tells us quite plainly, Hannibal is the catalyst for Will’s becoming.
In other words, Will was was born a domesticated dog-who-can-only-ever-be-a-dog, and would have died as one, too, if not for Hannibal recognizing that his twitchy rabbit chasing dreams were so similar to his own real life hunting patterns.
Saying that Will’s capacity for violence was always there is a disservice to Hannibal’s level of desire for Will and manipulation of him, and to Will’s continuous, self-altering transformation. Their arc together is about how Hannibal has forever been a lone wolf, but is now sculpting a packmate in his own image... He is re-training Will. And it’s not like Will’s sharp canines just ripped right out of his jaw- the entire show is about the slow, painful filing of his fangs. There’s a reason they didn’t have to muzzle him until now.
124 notes · View notes
in1-nutshell · 3 days
Note
Hello and how are you? I'm glad that we can request again but also hope you are doing well
So for my request. This is probably my first time, requesting Beast Wars, so been enjoying reading the Beast Wars, especially the 'Finding an Abandoned Sparkling' and it got me thinking of this request
Can you do Blackarachnia become a Mom to a sparkling?
Blackarachnia would take a lot of time to warm up to the kid. Also, this can take place before Blackarachnia joins the Maximal. I also imagine that the sparkling would take a lot of time warming up to Silverbolt because the baby thinks he's taking blackarachnia's time and/or love
Ty and take care!
The sparklings are back!
Hope you enjoy!
Blackarachnia with an abandoned sparkling
SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronian reader
BW
The sparkling’s alt mode is a gecko.
The Predacon’s had recently acquired something new from their latest patrol.
Something Blackarachnia didn’t know about, something she needed to know about.
She thought that it was some sort of relic or more news about the Golden discs.
She was not expecting a sparkling, with a reptilian alt mode, nonetheless.
Why couldn't they be a spider?
The sparkling looks all around its new surroundings but stops seeing Blackarachnia.
They squeal and transform out of Inferno’s servos and waddles up to the spider and attempt to give her a hug.
“Beat it kid. I don’t do hugs.”--Blackarachnia
Blackarachnia pushes them away only to find them stuck on her servo.
“What in the Allspark!? Get off of me!”--Blackarachnia
Megatron smirks at this interaction.
“Thank you Blackarachnia for volunteering to take care of the newest recruit of the Predacon cause, yes.”--Megatron
“What?!”--Blackarachnia
“Why not? Look how attached they are already. Yes, you’ll do.”--Megatron
Megatron walks away before Blackarachnia can say anything else.
The sparkling happily swinging from her outstretched servo.
Blackarachnia thought this was a terrible idea.
She hates kids!
Yet the little fella was literally stuck to her side.
Curse those digits.
She did learn to live with the smaller shadow following her every move.
It was tolerable…
Despite openly saying she despised having the little one with her, Blackarachnia refused to have most Predacon’s babysit them.
Tarantulas and Megatron are at the top of her ‘Do not leave them alone at all cost’ list.
Blackarachnia kneeling in front of the sparkling.
“Okay kid, you’ll hold down the fort until I come back, okay?”--Blackarachnia
The sparkling hums in agreement.
Blackarachnia stands up and looks at Waspinator.
“Anything happens to them, there won’t be a CR Chamber that could put you back together. Am I clear?”--Blackarachnia
Waspinator gulps and nods in agreement.
The sparkling waddles up to Waspinator wanting upsies, which Waspinator happily complies.
The spider watches the two go back inside the ship.
Quickstrike walks up to her.
“Aw! C’mon Sugarbot! Why can’t I take care of the kiddo? You know you’ll need a strong and handsome mech to watch over them…”--Quickstrike
“Well Cowboy, in case you forgot, your also on patrol.”--Blackarachnia
“Oh yeah…”--Quickstrike
Blackarachnia had a small habit of doing some things without thinking about the consequences. Not with a lot of things, but some things.
For example, she didn’t think that playfully flirting with Silverbolt would mean anything in the future.
Yet, she had risked her life again and again for him.
Joining the Maximals on the spot was also something she had done on the spot.
Blackarachnia didn’t think much about it until after the battle reality had hit her harder than a missile or blast to the chassis.
Buddy, her sparkling, was still at the base.
She hadn’t told the Maximals this, mainly because her position in their ranks was already rocky as it is.
She didn’t want to know what could happen if she brought Buddy.
Everyone noticed in the next few days how tense Blackarachnia had become.
Like… she was worried about something… or someone…
It took a bit, but Blackarachnia finally relented and told the team about Buddy.
“Woah, woah, woah! You’re saying that you have a sparkling—”--Rattrap
“It’s technically not mine—”--Blackarachnia
“A sparkling in the Preds base.”--Cheetor
“Why didn’t you bring them with you?”--Rhinox
“It was kind of hard with space time was literally falling apart!... By the time I realized that they would be alone at the base we weren’t on the best terms…”--Blackarachnia
Silverbolt taking her servo.
“We’ll get your sparkling my love.”--Silverbolt
“What…?”--Blackarachnia
“You heard me, that sparkling could be in trouble and we could be their only hope! Who’s with me!”--Silverbolt
All the Maximals agree with the statement.
“All right then, we need to—”--Optimus
RING!
RING!
RING!
“That’s the proximity alarm!”--Rhinox
“Everyone to your stations!”--Optimus
Everyone gets to their stations while Rhinox and Optimus go to see who was there.
“Its Waspinator… and he’s holding something…”--Rhinox
Blackarachnia , Silverbolt and Optimus go out to confront Waspinator and…
“Buddy!”--Blackarachnia
The sparkling chirps seeing their Mama and detaches from Waspinator and waddles up to her hugging her pedes.
She kneels down and holds the sparkling close to her, for once, not minding the sticky digits on her frame.
“Wazzpinator take Gecko bot from Megatron. Wazzpinator don’t want to be Predacon.”--Waspinator
“You don’t want to be a Predacon?”--Optimus
“And how are we supposed to believe that?”--Blackarachnia
“Megatron don’t know Wazzpinator here… Megatron wanted Gecko bot to go to Tarantulas… Wazzpinator no trust Tarantulas.”--Waspinator
Blackarachnia tightens her grip on the sparkling a bit hearing her old lab partner’s name.
“… I say let’s give him a chance to prove himself.”--Blackarachnia
Silverbolt and Optimus look at Blackarachnia.
“Are you sure?”--Silverbolt
“Positive.”--Blackarachnia
Silverbolt tries to pet Buddy on the helm.
Buddy gives him a stink eye and hugs Blackarachnia harder.
“Looks like you got some competition Bolt.”--Blackarachnia
Silverbolt laughs at this fully confident he would worm his way into the sparkling’s spark faster than Blackarachnia.
Jokes on him, it takes longer to get the protective sparkling on their good side.
It’s up to Blackarachnia and Waspinator to get the two to bond.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
47 notes · View notes
delicatebarness · 2 days
Note
So I was thinking earlier for the Avengers Bunch
What if…while on a mission and in the middle of the fight reader is listening to music and just starts humming which leads to singing quietly till other young avenger hears and joins and another one and so on
the young avengers just start singing cause someone is anxious or just because they’re bored and when they run into the enemy they are like what is happening
And the song would be “We Didn’t Start The Fire” Fallout boy rendition or you can chose
The Avengers Bunch | Who's Robert Downey Jr Anyway?! #004
Summary: ^^ Requested.
Warning: Violence. Mentions of real-life events from 1989 - 2023 that could be triggering.
Word Count: 567
Series Masterlist
Tags: @somnorvos |
youtube
On the outskirts of an abandoned nuclear power plant, bursts of energy and lights flashing illuminated the night sky. The recruits were in the thick of their mission, each one of them locked in their conflict. Amidst the chaos, you crouched behind a pile of rubble, trying to catch your breath and reload your guns. After a moment, you remembered you packed your AirPods…
“Why do you need them?” you remember Bucky asking you from your doorway.
Slipping them into your ears, you pressed shuffle on your playlist, and the familiar strains of “We Didn’t Start The Fire” by Fall Out Boy filled your senses. As you re-entered the battle, you found yourself humming along to the beat.
Softly, the hums turned into singing, barely audible over the fights. “Captain Planet, Arab Spring, LA riots, Rodney King…”
Nearby, Kate crouched with her bow at the ready, glancing over at you. “Are you singing?” 
You gave her a sheepish grin, still humming. “It’s to help me focus.”
Nodding, Kate smiled at you before she took a deep breath and joined on the next line. “Deepfakes, earthquakes, Iceland volcano…”
Spider-Man swung in from above you, delivering a kick to a robotic enemy. He landed next to you, eyebrows raised beneath his mask. “Cool! Karaoke time!” Without hesitation, he joined in, surprisingly in tune. “Oklahoma City bomb…” 
Suddenly, an amplified voice added a deep resonance as a shadow loomed over you. “I am Groot, I am Groot, I am Groot, I am Groot…” Groot has caught on to what was happening. 
Soon enough, the four of you were all belting out the song, your voices melding together in a harmonious chorus. Your enemies, a group of heavily armed mercenaries even paused in their attacks. Staring in confusion at you all. 
“What the hell?” one of them muttered, lowering their weapon slightly. 
Even the most seasoned in their ranks, looked bewildered. “What is happening?” he growled, becoming distracted for a moment. 
You and your friends never missed a beat. You used the mercenaries’ confusion to your advantage. “Cambridge Analytica!” you sang together, your voices rang out across the battlefield. 
As the last of the mercenaries were knocked out, you regrouped, still singing the lines of the song.
Kate paused and looked confused when you all sang, “Robert Downey Jr, Iron Man.” Picking up her arrows she asked, “Wait, who’s Robert Downey Jr anyway?” 
“No idea,” Peter shrugged, sending one more punch toward a waking mercenary. “Must be some old actor.” 
Groot nodded, “I am Groot.” 
You laughed, shaking your head. “Tony will know.” 
~
Once your enemies were tied up and the area was secure, you made your way back to the Quin Jet. As you and the rest of your team boarded, still humming together, you found the ‘older’ Avengers sitting inside, their heads in their hands.
Bucky looked up first, his face a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Do you realize we have comms? We heard… everything.” 
Steve sighed, rubbing his temples. “Every. Single. Note.”
With a raised eyebrow, Natasha made her way over to you. “Not the most conventional tactic, but it worked.” 
You blushed slightly. “Sorry, we just got carried away.” Sharing a look with your friends, you all tried to stifle your laughter. Leaning back in your seat, you began to hum softly again as the Quin Jet lifted off.
“For the love of Odin, shut up!”
45 notes · View notes
bbbuckaroo · 19 hours
Text
Blue-Eyed Monster (re: anon bucktommy prompt)
“what i would love to see is a redux of 7x3 where tommy and eddie hang out again maybe working on cars or something else buck has no business with and buck gets jealouse again but in a pouty way. complaining that eddie monopolizes his boyfriends time.”
“Think you can stand two days of pizza this week?” It was a joke but it didn’t feel like one to Buck.
“Yeah, nice of Eddie to offer.”
He saw when Tommy’s eyes changed, brows furrowing, “you okay? I’m sure we could do Thai or something instead.”
Buck shook his head, “it’s fine. But hey, maybe if we don’t eat too much and we le …”
Eddie’s head popped around the corner, “hey, little bit of a delay on the pizza guys, guess they had some huge order come in right before ours. You two okay with that?”
“Totally fine, I need a quick shower anyway. Babe,” he turned back to Buck with a devilish smirk, “care to join? We can do a quick PG-13 version. I’m sure Eddie can entertain himself.”
Buck’s brows furrowed, shoulders hunched as he crossed his arms tight, “why don’t you just ask Eddie to join you?!”
Of note, are we all losing our minds about the finale tonight? Because I certainly am, already got my bottle of wine to cry over 🍷
@bidisasterevankinard Here’s your tag. You’re my first one ever!
26 notes · View notes
katuschka · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
Olalla – Chapter Four
Josh Kiszka x female OC
6.432 words
Tumblr media
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.
One more chapter until Jacob makes an appearance again, so bear with me. Some shit still needs to happen...
Warnings: alcohol consumption, junk food, lots of fluff, heavy petting, oral sex, masturbation, unprotected penetrative sex, some rough sex too, but not too much, orgams (self) denial, depression, allusions to trauma, some arguing going on, the main character being a bit insufferable
Taglist
Previous Chapter Olalla masterlist
Tumblr media
Feel the vibe Feel the terror Feel the pain It's driving me insane I can't fake For God's sake why am I driving in the wrong lane Trouble is my middle name But in the end I'm not too bad Can someone tell me if it's wrong to be so mad about you
Josh protested weakly for a short while but gave up soon, because he didn’t really have enough strength to fight with her. All he wanted to do was to wash the sticky sweat off his exhausted body and crawl in bed. He had a throbbing headache, his feet were swollen and his calves felt as if he set them on fire, not to mention the hollow ache deep inside his chest. The first panic attack had scared him shitless, but he learned to cope since then and could feel this one subsiding already. He hoped she didn’t recognize it, thinking that he was probably just upset by what happened…
He was also so hungry it hurt, but the idea of going anywhere and just being seen by any more people made him even more nauseous. He generally loved people, so this scared him too. He didn’t feel like himself anymore. 
“Could you please at least tell me where we’re going?” he asked after a while, still clutching his forehead with his elbow sticking out of the window. 
“We’re nearly there,” was all she said as she drove through the last sharp bend. They were now at the top of a bare, grassy hill with just a few trees here and there. The sun was setting right in front of them and if he just turned his head left, he would see a truly breathtaking view. It was a warm, breezy, fairytale evening. One of those summer evenings that make you forget about tomorrow; when you stay outside a bit too long, wrapped in a blanket, until early birds and the sun re-emerging on the other side tell you it’s finally time to go get some rest. 
Not today though. The magic was lost somehow. He just didn’t care. He didn't want to care right now…
They soon arrived at a wrought iron gate that separated the main road from a driveway which led to several log chalets. They were obviously new, but looked sufficiently traditional at the same time, built in the picturesque goralski style, with just a few modern enhancements. It looked fairytale-ish AND expensive.
In his dreamlike state, he watched her miraculously procure the keys from the glove box, step out of the car and open the gate. 
She did the same thing again after she parked the car in front of one of the smaller chalets. This time she motioned him to follow her inside. He groaned and slowly dragged himself out of the car. He wasn’t in the mood for whatever she’d been plotting or whoever she wanted to meet here. 
The plank wall interior looked bright and cozy and was moderately furnished with just a large and comfy-looking modern gray couch that contrasted with a wooden dining table and chairs carved in the rural style. There was also a fully equipped kitchenette, a large TV and stereo system and a wooden staircase with iron-wrought banister that led upstairs. It was also completely empty. 
“What is this?”
“Our shelter for the night,” she answered and switched the lights on because it was already getting dark inside. “I figured you’d appreciate a bit more privacy today.”
She wasn’t wrong, he couldn’t deny that. He knew he was a mess and if they went back, there would be questions, and the people who’d ask them, and he feared couldn’t deal with that right now. He was sure she didn’t want to, either. And this place was actually quite nice, but…
“So, it’s just the two of us? Is this place yours?” He asked tentatively. He thought it unlikely, but really hoped it was. 
“No, not mine. I couldn’t afford it even if I wanted to. And I don’t,” she replied matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything, and turned on the oven to let it pre-heat.
Joshua, however, looked positively alarmed now. Still clutching his backpack in one hand, he tried to stop her in her tracks with the other. “Seriously, Olalla! What is this place and how could you get us inside? Please, tell me we’re not trespassing. I don’t want more trouble. If we can pay for this, I definitely will! I don’t want you to…”
“Relax, Mr. I-will-pay-for-it-all. It’s been already paid for. This is a private resort. People pay yearly rent so they can come anytime they want. Anyway, this one belongs to a guy who owns a small chain of bakeries. I’m the housekeeper,” she finally started to explain while rummaging in the fridge and kitchen drawers. “Here, have some water. And stop bouncing around me like a yo-yo. Sit and relax, for fucks sake!” She grabbed his shoulders and gently pushed him in one of the chairs before she dived her nose in the freezer, searching for boxes with frozen pizza. She threw one on the table in front of him “Margherita?” 
He nodded weakly and she put it in the oven. “That’s why I couldn’t go to dinner with you the other day. I was here. Even when they’re not here, I come in here every week to keep this place spotless, because his wife is scared of spiders. Also, it just needs to be ready all the time in case they just decided to come here on a whim.” She noticed his alarmed face and added: “Not now! Don’t worry. They’re currently in Egypt…There’s some wine, too. Would you want some?”
He sucked in a breath and exhaled dramatically, which made her roll her eyes. “I take care of their groceries and other supplies. There’s a monthly budget and they don’t keep track, so they won’t notice. Besides, I can keep the change, so all in all you’re my guest… Now come have a look.”
She took his hand and led him to a small terrace outside a glass door at the southern side of the chalet. That’s when he finally saw it. The whole Tatra mountain range was stretching right in front of them. The setting sun was now illuminating just the tops of it, painting the peaks in fiery red, while the valley below was already shrouded in shadow. The glimmering streetlights of Zakopane looked surreal from where they stood, almost inappropriate…like a fake illusion that civilization could possibly surpass the power of the surrounding nature. We don’t control life, life controls us – that’s what Agnieszka thought. Josh, on the other hand, believed in divine symbiosis. Even now, all he could see was beauty. This was much bigger than him, much more important.
She watched with joy as his expression finally relaxed and a weak smile played on his lips.  “This is beautiful,” he breathed out at last. “You still didn’t explain why we’re really here.”
“I already told you. The privacy.” His crossed arms and raised eyebrows and the whole oh-come-on look on his face told her that he wasn’t buying. He didn’t look so drained anymore, though, already going back to his charming, bubbly self. And even if he wasn’t, she wouldn’t mind. 
She took a deep breath and told him that this was the exact reason. “We’re here so that you could just be yourself. You don’t need to feign anything tonight.”
If they went back to Eulalia, he would no doubt be forced to smile and act normal, at least until he’d reach the confines of his small and stuffy attic room. He had been upset, and she just wanted him to breathe and smile in earnest. This place was perfect for that. She would go here on her own sometimes – or stayed a bit longer than necessary after having done her chores – just to enjoy a private moment of peace, unbothered by anyone. That’s what she told him. 
She did not tell him that she feared that they would just part in the hallway and that would be it. There were still some things that were left unsaid and there might not be another opportunity to say them. She would resume her role of a receptionist/slash/maid and he’d be her guest again, engaging in polite conversations about the weather until he’d be gone for good. The whole ride here, the devil on her shoulder kept telling her that it would be better that way and that this was foolish. Or was it the angel? She couldn’t tell. She also couldn’t let go of him that easily. Maya was wrong. A lot of things could have happened…and they did. She needed closure. 
She did not need to tell him that, though. She brought him here not as her guest, but as her…whatever he was. A friend, most probably. Someone who she cared about, in spite of her resolve. 
He knew that, and that was what really made him smile, not just the view. 
“Thank you, Olalla,” he said in a low tone after a while and brought her from her reverie. “I truly love it here. Can we eat outside? he added, motioning to a set of fake rattan chairs and a small table right beside Agnieszka. He looked like an excited, mischievous boy again. 
“Of course,” she smiled kindly and the stove clock buzzed, telling them the pizza was ready. 
Tumblr media
It was already dark when they finished eating, the wine was almost gone, too. It was getting chilly and they had to wrap themselves in blankets from the couch. Their bare and swollen feet, already freed from their heavy boots, were already getting uncomfortably cold, but neither of them wanted to leave yet. The pizza was okay, but small and they were still a bit hungry after, so Agnieszka quickly made some microwave popcorn. They were now munching the last handfuls, each of them lost in their thoughts, and watching the stars mirror the lights below. 
“Do you want to talk about what happened?” she finally broke the silence. 
“You’ll have to be more specific,” he smiled warmly and reached out to stroke the back of her hand that lay on her armrest... 
“The bus…” Her hand slid from under his fingers to reach for her wine, leaving them hovering in mid air awkwardly for a split second before he retracted them and clenched his fist unconsciously. 
His previously relaxed face clouded again. “What’s there to talk about? People are jerks, you can’t avoid them. End of story, I guess.” His tone was not unpleasant, but it sounded definitive. He wasn’t going to discuss his breakdown with her. She nodded and looked away, so he continued in his honeyed voice: “Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’m just impulsive. And I’d rather talk about our trip. The valley, it was a truly beautiful place. How many times have you actually been there?” 
Her heart sank and she watched him playing with the hem of his shirt for a while. It was OK if he didn’t want to talk about the bus ride, but the way he just dismissed the kiss stung her.  She cleared her throat because the lump in it threatened to choke her, and answered politely:  “A few times. I think I was six or seven when my dad took me there for the first time. We needed passports back then. 
“Well, that makes it easier now,” he nodded absentmindedly, still playing with his shirt. 
“Nothing is easier!” Her sudden outburst made him look up in annoyance, but his expression quickly softened when he saw her own. He wanted to hug her, but didn’t dare, too afraid that she would pull away from him again. 
He was about to suggest that they should probably call it a night. The wine obviously didn’t have the best effect on her. However, she took a deep breath and continued. It was a sudden outburst of words, totally out of her character, but he listened eagerly as she told him about the solace she found up there; how the weather made the same places look a bit different each time; how she knew every place accessible on foot and how Dominik – her fiance – once convinced her to get a climbing permit so that he could show her more; how she avoided going up there for nearly two years after he fell and left her here; how she finally learned that it’s just people’s stupidity that makes bad things happen, and nothing else…
She had no idea why she told him all that, but she suddenly felt so much lighter. It was just like the first night all over again. He was her confessor. 
“Is that why you’re running from love? he whispered.
“No,” she huffed in protest. “I’m just seeking joy elsewhere. Love is overrated.” 
“What? Oh no! Love is everything, dear. You cannot live without it. It’s the ultimate knowledge. ‘The more you love, the more you know’ – a dumb man once said. Love IS joy!”
“Yeah, you’re positively glowing,” she responded sarcastically.
“Even when it hurts, it’s worth it.”
“I’d rather never known that pain,” she mumbled. 
“I regret nothing.” His face betrayed him, though. This was clearly not true. He could feel her eyes on him as he chewed the inside of his cheek. She opened up to him, he should do the same. It just wasn’t easy, not when this ugly, fake and pixelated version of him kept defeating him and its tentacles could reach this place too if he weren’t careful. It had destroyed his love and it still threatened to destroy his life…or at least it felt that way sometimes.  “…well, almost…but that has nothing to do with love,” he added when the silence became unbearable.
“So, what’s his name?” The question made him smile, albeit ruefully. He loved how straightforward she was from day one. Some might think it rude, but her questions were always laced with pure interest and concern, nothing more. He appreciated that. She was clever, too…although not clever enough. 
“Who? The love I don’t regret?” It was obvious that she wasn’t going to repeat the question. They both knew exactly what she meant, so he looked at her at last and added, finally telling her much more than just a name: “Christopher.”
“Do you still love him?”
“I don’t believe in falling out of love…unless it turns to hate. And I could never do that.”
“That sounds a bit evasive.”
“Yet it’s the most truthful answer I could give you. Everyone I’ve ever loved has left a mark. Some may be a bit faded, but love just doesn’t leave. Don’t your vain attempts to run from it prove my point?” 
She huffed in annoyance and emptied her glass of wine. “He didn’t leave me intentionally. He died. Isn’t it natural to feel resentful when someone breaks your heart? They’re not gone, they just don’t want you anymore. I’m pretty sure it’s much easier to let go.”
“He didn’t break my heart. I broke his…and mine, in the process. I’m to blame. And I’m pretty sure he’s resentful, but it didn’t make it any easier for either of us. Besides, didn’t you just say a moment ago that it was all about human stupidity? We’re supposed to learn from it, not hide.” 
She had no answer to that. She just tightened the blanket around her, acting like they were just talking about the weather. “It’s getting a bit chilly.”
He gave her a long, scrutinizing look, but she kept avoiding his eyes. “Ok, let’s go inside,” he sighed.
They washed the dishes together in silence and then she reluctantly led him upstairs, sad that their day would – after all – end in what felt like an argument. 
The upper bedchamber was not much different from his attic room, with just the most essential furnishings, the double bed taking up most of the space. It was also equally stifled after the hot day. The bathroom, however, was large and cool and fully equipped.. Agnieszka once again started making everything ready with alacrity. She turned on the boiler, opened up the window to let some fresh air in, reached into the closet and handed him several clean towels, showed him where to find spare toothbrushes…and all that time he watched her with visible concern in his eyes which she masterfully ignored.  
She was finally done. Standing in the middle of the room with her hands on her sides, she exhaled audibly. “Unfortunately, there’s just one bedroom here, but I can sleep downstairs.”
“Don’t be ridiculous Olalla, the bed is big enough for both of us. If you don’t wanna share it, I understand…but in that case I should be the one sleeping on the couch.”
“I don’t mind sharing the bed with you, I just thought…”
“Good, it’s settled then. Now let’s go take a shower,” he interrupted her matter-of-factly and pulled off his shirt. Her breath hitched as he started unbuttoning his shorts. 
“What? Together?”
“We’re gonna sleep in one bed, we have no spare clothes, what difference does it make?” He tried to act nonchalantly, but there was some underlying tension building up under the surface, as if he was testing her, but losing his temper already.
“It makes a difference to me Joshua. I do…”
His face contorted in frustration and he threw his arms up in the air. “And what makes you think that I don’t? What exactly do you want? If you brought me here just as a friend, fine. I can cope with that. You obviously made some assumptions about me along the way, and you weren’t completely wrong. But the kiss…I meant it. And I think you did too, that it’s what you want, but your walls are too high. You’ve been dodging me ever since that happened, even before that, actually… Yet, here we are. I’ve been acting like an idiot too, you haven’t met me at my best, but I do like you, ok? So please, stop overthinking this and fucking tell me. Why does it make a difference to you?”
All the time, she just stood there, watching him flailing his arms around, shocked. If only it were so easy – not overthinking it. Was she really pushing him away today? She wasn’t aware of that. She wanted to touch him again. Badly. The yearning was strong, and past the point of it being purely physical. It kept frightening her.
He was wrong, though. This wasn’t really what she wanted. When she saw him for the first time, he was just another guy that she could potentially have some fun with…if he wanted. Just another handsome body to fill the void for a while. But that changed very quickly. And what the hell did he want, anyway? 
“I’m scared.” She was crying now, overwhelmed by his confession as well as her over emotions. 
“Of what, baby?”
I’m scared of the fact that for the first time in years, I care. And I’m scared of having to admit that, if you asked. And no matter what happens now, you’re going to leave me. I don’t know what this is yet…definitely not a date…we have no future. But I already know that I’m going to miss you.
She couldn’t say any of it aloud though. 
He cupped her cheeks in his hands and looked into her eyes, searching for cues. “Do you want me to go sleep on the couch, baby? It’s ok, you know.”
“No,” she whispered. No, she couldn’t possibly let him do that. It was something in his touch. Every time he made a slightest contact with her skin, her brain short-circuited, making her mind do mental backflips. Because, screw that…If she’s going to miss him, she wants to miss everything about him. “Can you kiss me again, please?” 
He barely touched her at first. Just a fleeting brush of his lips against hers. It would be almost innocent if it weren’t for the shaky exhale, almost a moan. It was controlled, and he did it on purpose. He was teasing her before he looked at her again and whispered: “Is this what you want, hm? Just a kiss?” 
“You can take whatever you want.”
“I’m not going to be taking anything today, baby,” he responded, caressing her cheek in a loving way. She leaned into his touch and ran her fingertips up his bare chest, tracing his collarbones and then his jaw as she tried to commit every detail of his face in her memory. “We’re gonna take it slow, what do you think? he whispered. 
“Yes…,” she whispered back. 
He reached for the hem of her tank top, motioning her to lift her arms up, which she was reluctant to do. 
“I stink like a pig,” she sniffed, but a soft smile was already forming on her lips. 
“You smell divine, my dear.” He kissed her again, this time with more passion. They stood there for a while, reveling in their newly found intimity, licking and moaning into each other’s mouths. He cupped her bare breast in his hand, running his fingers along her nipple before he bowed down to do the same thing with his tongue. She tilted her head back. “Joshua…”
“Yeah,” he muttered with her nipple still in his mouth. 
“I’d really like to shower first…” He smiled against her skin and straightened up. He took her hand, grabbed the towels with the other and led her into the bathroom. 
He did as he promised, and took it slow. They took off the rest of their clothes and stepped in the shower together. She unbraided his hair, helped him disentable the dreadlock beads from his hair, before she started rubbing shampoo into his curls. “Coconut ice-cream again?” he chuckled softly. She smiled back. “I told you I take care of the supplies. That includes my supplies. I get a wholesale discount for this.” 
“You’re a hell of a housekeeper,” he laughed. 
When they got back to the bedroom, she just turned off the lights and climbed in bed. He followed suit. They cuddled at first and explored their bodies in the darkness. Listening to his heavy breath was intoxicating. The silky softness of her skin, in contrast with her calloused palms, moved him in a way he never expected. But as soon as their kisses deepened and his cock hardened, they couldn’t wait any longer. She cupped his balls and kneaded them gently, making him whimper. 
“I need to feel you,” he whispered.
“Come inside then.” 
“What a nice way to put it,” he chuckled against her shoulder. “How do you want me?”
“Spoon me.”
“Alright.” 
She turned on her side and he positioned himself, pushing in slowly. He tried to do everything slowly, but it became almost unbearable after a while, and when she whispered “more,” he quickened his pace. He wanted to do just what she asked for, and just listening to her reactions was making him lose his mind. So, when she whimpered “tough me more,” he was delighted to oblige. He grabbed her leg and lifted it up, resting her shin against his knee. His hand sneaked down her thigh until he found that precious little button. It didn’t take long and he soon felt her contracting around him. He diligently took her there, pushed her over the edge with one last flick of his finger and held her tight while she reached the dizzy heights and then came back to him.
It took her a while to realize that he had stopped completely. “Joshua…go on…” Her voice was like a jingle bell, feeble and high and a little breathy. 
“Shhh, just let me savor the moment, it’s ok” he murmured into her hair. She exhaled heavily and relaxed as the fatigue threatened to overcome both her mind and body at last. With their limbs still intertwined and their bodies still connected, she felt his chest rise and fall against her back. It was getting cold in the room. He moved just a little to grab a blanket, threw it over both of them and buried his face in her hair again. Almost involuntarily, he moved his hips just a little a few times and whimpered weakly, still chasing the feeling before he finally stopped. “Get some rest, sweet Olalla,” he whispered and his fingertips stroked the baby hair that covered her temple. She fell asleep before he got limp, feeling both peaceful and full.
Tumblr media
The sun emerged from behind the clouds and its morning rays hit Josh straight in the face, waking him. He was a bit disoriented at first. He also had a painful erection.
The planks on the ceiling looked just like those in his attic room, but the light coming from the outside, as well as the smell of new wood and furniture were different…then he remembered. 
Her side of the bed was empty and cold and no sounds were coming from below. That made him start…only to notice a piece of paper with a quickly scribbled message placed carefully on her pillow. 
I had to go back to Eulalia, but I will be back VERY soon with some clean clothes and breakfast. Feel free to make yourself some coffee.
He checked his phone on the nightstand to see what time it was, only to find it dead. Perfect, so she was keeping him hostage now. 
That made him huff. He had no idea what time it was, but he had faith in her, so…first things first. He had to take care of himself. He wrapped his fingers around his hard-on and started stroking himself. It was slow at first, but he soon became impatient. All the pent-up energy, all the emotional whiplash he experienced recently, all the hurt and newly found pleasures…he needed to release the tension that had only intensified the night before. 
For the first time in months, he didn’t picture Christopher’s mouth enveloping the tip of his hard dick while he was pumping himself. The events of the previous night occupied his mind instead. He enjoyed sex with women, but it had been a couple years now…and to be honest, it had never infiltrated his deepest fantasies…until now. He just couldn’t help it now. He could feel it again – her tight walls, smooth like velvet, warm and tight…but not too tight. Different.
The way she moaned with each thrust; it was so melodic. So sincere. All the hurt she had tried to hide, it seeped out of the pores of her silken skin and evaporated in the air above them. He made her feel better. She made him feel better. 
He closed his eyes and he could see her face clearly again, as if it was tattooed on the inner surface of his eyelids. He thought about their first kiss as he twisted his wrist, stroking the head of his cock in a circular motion. The electricity when the tip of her tongue met with his was real. It made him moan loudly and his heart started to beat faster. He was getting close already. 
He ran his second hand past his abdomen to cup his balls, kneading them gently just like she had done yesterday. He longed for her to do it again, but right now he had to get this over with so they wouldn't burst. A few more strokes – together with a memory of her dark ponytail flailing in the wind – before spurts of his cum landed on his belly and chest. 
The hurt he had felt – it somehow ceased to matter the very moment she decided to try to make it go away without even asking what he had done to feel that way. Her whole being left an imprint on him. Her teary eyes, her ringing laugh, the softness of her skin and her calloused hands. His vision of her was not purely sexual, but it made him emotional. She was a born caretaker, who – for some reason – chose to live without love. He couldn’t forget the way she was looking at him the night he gave her the pendant. Like deer in headlights. She begged to be seen, yet she was trying to make herself invisible. He became convinced that he had to fix it. 
Again. He hadn’t learned a single thing…
He lay there for a while with his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of warm sun rays on his skin, but the relief he had sought was short-lived and he started to feel on edge once again. Groaning in annoyance as his release on his stomach started to get crusty, he finally scrambled out of bed and trudged over to the bathroom.
The quick shower he took to clean himself did not make him feel more relaxed, on the contrary. It once again reminded him of last night. He lathered up a drop of the coconut shower gel between his hands to wash his torso with it and the smell only made him dizzy. He needed her. 
He wandered naked around the chalet, searching through empty drawers for a compatible charger, knowing too well it was futile. He made himself a coffee and then just let it get cold on the table. He opened a bottle of beer, took two sips and then just held the cold bottle on his forehead while he sat sprawled on the couch. He started gnawing on his lower lip out of impatience when he finally heard a key in the lock and his eyes snapped open. 
She was beautiful, with her long dark locks just hanging down this time. She was wearing a white madeira sundress and flip flops. He had never seen her like this. 
“I’m SO sorry, it took a little longer than I expected, I hope you didn’t…oh!”
At first she thought he was angry, the way he leaped from the couch and darted towards her, with that look on his face. She instinctively backed away, but he just took the bags she was holding, put them on the table and literally pounced on her, grabbing her sides and making her stumble backwards and collide with the wooden door. 
“Joshua! Wait a second,” she bursted out, grabbing his shoulders in an attempt to regain her balance. He disregarded her feeble resistance, grabbed her wrists and pinned them against the door at both sides of her head.
“For what exactly? I’ve waited for hours. Now I don’t need to anymore. I think I”m going to take what I want after all,” he grunted against the soft skin right below her earlobe and pushed his leg between her things. “And don’t tell me you dressed like this to make me wanna hold your hand again, so don’t play coy,” he added, while licking a long stripe from her collarbone back up to her earlobe, earning a high pitched moan when he bit it. Her heart started beating wildly, sending tingling waves of arousal throughout her whole body. He was already rock hard, rutting against her pelvic bone. 
“Aren’t you hungry?” she whimpered, nodding towards the table. She was referring to the food she brought, but they both knew she was teasing him with double meaning. She arched a little, pressing her still clothed pussy down on him a bit more. It was exhilarating to feel his hands tightening around her forearms, digging his fingernails in her flesh. He looked at her, nostrils flaring, and she reciprocated with intense glare. 
“I’m starving. Feed me.” He let go of her arms, grabbed her jaw instead to force her mouth open and licked into it, claiming it. Her own hands immediately travelled up his back, kneading his tight flesh in a sudden frenzy, pulling him even closer to her chest.   
Still locked in a searing kiss, he turned her around and they slowly made their way towards the couch. When her calves collided with it, he just pushed her down and kneeled in front of her, pushing the hem of her dress up to her waist with one swift motion. She had no panties on, which made grin like a madman, shaking his head with a mischievous “tsk”. 
With just his fingertips, he pushed her thighs further apart and licked his lips absentmindedly, seeing her in all her glory for the very first time. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, while the same fingertips travelled further up her inner thighs until his thumb brushed gently against her clit, sending a jolt of electricity up her spine. 
She moaned melodically and he hummed in unison with her. “You said you liked my singing?” 
The question brought her back to earth and she looked down at him in confusion. “You want to sing to me now?” 
He locked his eyes with her and they gleamed with mischief as he brushed his cheek against her inner thigh and planted a soft kiss on her labia. “Uh huh.” 
“What do you mean?”
“Just this…” he whispered, pressed the tip of his tongue on her exposed bud and really, really started singing…
He had to push her abdomen down with his hand to keep her steady as her whole body twitched in shock, her hands frantically grabbing at the pillows around her. He had her moaning loudly in no time. She had never held any man’s head between her legs, but she entangled her fingers in his curls almost involuntarily, in fear that he would stop. He hummed in approval and quickened the vibrations of his tongue even more and she cried out, eyes open wide. He slowed down a bit when her legs started shaking, enveloped her clit with his lips and started sucking on it gently. That was a terrible mistake, because instead of prolonging the experience, it pushed her over the edge immediately. 
She watched him in a haze as he emerged from between her legs and hovered above her, his facial hair completely wet. She immediately reached out to wipe it off with her palm, but he grabbed her wrist and smiled devilishly. “Leave it!” It sent her mind reeling. 
“What is it, baby? You look completely ruined,” he crooned maliciously. 
“Oh god, Joshua, just shut up and fuck me!” she exclaimed impatiently, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him closer. 
“Oooh, I will!” he bit his lip and shook his head maliciously. Before she could react, he buried his dick in her to the hilt. They both groaned loudly, exchanging a quick look. He swallowed audibly and rested his forehead between her breasts. “Your body’s made of silk, baby,” he murmured against her skin. “It’s driving me nuts.”
She clenched around him deliberately, making him groan again. “Don’t get too sentimental now. I’m not ruined enough yet!” 
“Dear lady, you’re a beast,” he whimpered through his teeth and straightened up. “As you wish.” He grabbed her hips and started thrusting into her with an unexpected force.  
She watched him, mesmerized. She literally saw him in a completely new light now. His parted lips, his furrowed brow. Just seeing him like that was an intensively sensual experience, and it turned her on even more. She could soon feel another orgasm building deep inside her low abdomen. It was becoming almost overwhelming and she grabbed his upper arms to steady herself, digging her fingernail into his skin. That did it for him and his movements became erratic. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain control over his bbody, but she clenched around him again and hissed: “Go on. Fill me up!” 
With a few last spasmic thrusts and a long, high-pitched moan, he did, taking her with him one more time. They collapsed together on the couch, breathing heavily. 
“Joshua?” 
“Yeah?
“I like you too.”
He didn’t say anything, just pulled her even closer to him and kissed her forehead lovingly.
“What do you think is going to happen now?”
“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully, stroking her hair “but literally anything’s possible. Let’s not worry about it now.”
“I assume you can’t stay longer, can you?”
“No, I’m afraid I can’t. But we still have a week. Let’s make it the time of our lives.”
And they started immediately. The weather was capricious that day. The morning sun soon hid behind the clouds and heavy shower rains kept drumming on the roof. It was a perfect day for ceaseless fucking. It was as if nature played along. Once they got the taste of each other, they just couldn’t stop. 
They fucked three more times that afternoon. At first he bent her over the dining table right after lunch. It was animalistic and quick and she feared she’d leave scratch marks on the wooden table as she cried out with each violent thrust against her cervix. His hands on her hips were gentle though, kneading her flesh like velvet cushions, the pressure of his fingers  on her skin more aggressive only when he came. 
The second time was slow and gentle, as they lay in bed under the roof. Rain kept falling as he showered her with kisses. 
They lay there for another half an hour before they concluded it was finally time to take another shower. That’s where he pressed her against the tiles and filled her with his seed one more time. 
Tumblr media
The day wasn’t over yet, but it was time to go back, so they cleaned up the chalet, got dressed, packed their things and soon were on their way back, arriving at Eulalia before supper. 
Maya greeted them at the reception with a smile, but something was off. She was all smiles and giggles when she and Agnueszka talked briefly earlier that day. She looked almost apprehensive now. 
“I need to talk to you,” she hissed at Agnieszka in Polish after Josh excused himself and ran up the stairs to his room. 
“Can it wait?”
“No, I’m afraid it can’t. 
“Well, it will have to. We’re going out soon in half an hour. You promised me. I’ll be back in the kitchen tomorrow morning.”
“Olalla!”
“See you in the moooorning,” Agnieszka trilled over her shoulder, already on her way up. 
Back in her room, she checked her phone briefly, only to notice she had a whatsapp message from Bartek. It was a link to some article one of his buddies allegedly found somewhere. She opened it and gasped in shock. 
Josh knocked on her door ten minutes later. He definitely did not expect her to open it with teary eyes.
“What happened,” he frowned. 
She showed him the screen and he went pale immediately. “OK, let me explain.”
“Yeah, you do that…and while you’re at it, feel free to introduce yourself, because clearly, I don’t know you…”
Tumblr media
Give me all your true hate and I'll translate it in your bed Into never seen passion That is why I am so mad about you
Tumblr media
Previous Chapter Olalla masterlist
@its-interesting-van-kleep @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @thewritingbeforesunrise @lvnterninthenight @fleet-of-fiction @takenbythemadness @myownparadise96 @gvfstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @tripthelightfantastix @sanguinebats @love-isnt-greed @klarxtr @kiszkas-canvas
26 notes · View notes
riewritten · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media
𝐎𝐈𝐋 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒 · CHAPTER THREE · AO3
˚ · .─ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: YOU, a college student in Frankfurt, start receiving emails that embarked the dim of normalcy you worked so hard to build on your own; starting from a message claiming you as the light amidst the hell of Kinderheim, who came just in time to bring a paradise of doomsday and grime, something that pleased the monster inside him. Initially, you thought of reporting the email as spam until another ding came: the monster, so pleased and full, is aiming to return the favor—something to flesh out the paradise you had granted him back at Kinderheim.
˚ · .─ 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎: Johan Liebert/Fem!reader | 3.9k words
˚ · .─ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: stalking, manipulation, obsessive tendencies, paranoia, among many things that might arise.
Tumblr media
The fine young blonde who'd help you erase your identity—as Anna had claimed—was formerly affiliated with the state security council. His stay was recent, short, and even Anna didn’t know the scope of his job, but this very background gave him the expertise and network to agent people who need to change identities in pursuit of securing their lives.
Anna gave you the basic physical description needed to recognize him, the meet-up location, and a warning: don't bring too much, don't wear too much—the last thing you want to happen is attract attention when your main mission is to vanish.
The warning was supposed to be intimidating, but the rustling leaves and bustling cars of evening Frankfurt brought you solace somehow. Indeed, you might be disappearing for everyone who had known you, but the little things you could still see either way would be as persistent as your existence.
Somewhere, somehow, despite this being your first time, you're so used to doing it. 
The ripped paper which contains Anna's pretty handwriting of the meet up place slipped from your fingers. You rush to it, albeit in a fluster. It is until a man catches it with his hand that you stop.
You catch up to him and profusely apologize, “My hands seem a bit cold. I didn't expect the weather today. Apologies.”
He hums, gently so, and hands you the piece of paper, “At least I caught it.”
Just as if the cold evening air couldn't get any cooler, his voice did its wonders. And you also perk up upon realizing he looks exactly like… “Anna?”
But no, it's not Anna. His hair is short, parted in the middle, and it's a much lighter shade of blonde. His eyes are bluer and his skin is quite paler.
This is the exact same description Anna had given you. It didn't take long for him to realize it, too, “So you're the one I'll be spending the evening with, aren't you?” 
The next thing you feel is a very uncanny familiarity that you quickly brush off because, well, of course he'd look familiar because he almost bears the same face as Anna.
“She didn't tell me I was about to meet a relative,” you shake his hand and tell him your name. “And you are…?”
“Pleasure to meet you,” he smiles, and yet he doesn't bother giving you his name.
His job is niche, and as much as you’d like to talk and know more about his line of work, this man seems to prefer anonymity. You are yet to adjust to that, hence you let him lead the way first. Futilely, you're not able to help yourself as you walk together towards a nearby restaurant. “What shall I call you, mister…?”
“I'm someone who must remain distant from you,” he responds, looking your way, wondering if you immediately get his cryptic point. But you don't—not at all—so he instead prompts, “Want a clue?”
“Uh… yes,” you raise a brow, “make it make sense for me.”
“The things we're about to do in pursuit of your goal doesn't make any sense in the eyes of a normal person either.” Well, he's right. “Pray tell, why were you referred to me?”
“I'm running away from someone. Anna said you could help me erase my identity and start anew.”
He chuckles lightly, “Yes, that's the most common reason I get.”
And the walk goes tormentingly silent again. You want to ask more, but for some reason your brain couldn't articulate it. Why the lurking uncomfortability? Is it because of how poised and graceful he walks? Of how chivalrous he seems when he ushers you to your seat and arranges the meal after the waiter placed it on your table? Or is it because he resembles Anna so much? It's unlikely for you to act like a moth too entranced with the light, unbeknownst how it could potentially burn your wings into a crisp. But in your defense, it's also rare to encounter a person as enigmatic as him.
“A longer look and I might not be able to hold my fluster,” he quips without dropping his food nor looking up at you. You're not convinced he's actually starting to get flustered. The comment is surely intended to fluster you instead.
“I'm sorry,” you avert your gaze away, “but you see, I think I might need to know more about you so I could trust you enough with what we're about to do. E-even the simple name telling would be fine for me.”
“But exchanging names is the first step to develop attachments and mark existence. Given my job to eradicate every trace of you in this world, wouldn't it be counterproductive of us to get to know each other?” Why is his way of talking a bit too uncanny? You almost blurt out. When minutes pass and the befuddled look on your face still doesn’t subside, he offers a proposition. “Let's see… to make things easier, do you perhaps have a name you quite disdain?
“I quite disdain…?”
“Call me by a name you quite disdain in order to keep your distance,” he concurs. “I’m sure you’ll benefit from this, too.”
Something that will benefit you. Something that will benefit you. Something that will benefit you—a ding of light clicked in your brain. You sigh defeatedly and say, “Johan. I'd like to call you Johan.”
His reaction to that, albeit subtle, ran shivers down your spine. The unreadability of his smile scares you. As if Johan sensed it, he gulps the urge to chuckle by nodding and asking, “Is that a name you're most uncomfortable to use?”
“Very much so.”
“How strange. Why, when Johan is such a wonderful name?”
Despite knowing the reason very well, you refuse to answer. See, if you’re fearing the name Johan because of your sinister childhood friend, then what if you take this first step? Disassociate this name away from the Kinderheim boy. Project it to a perfect stranger. Maybe, by the end of your time with this agent, you’re already over from fearing the measly name.
Indeed, that is something that would benefit you above anything else.
The rest of the night went with Johan briefing you about certain protocols when meeting him, all the while expertly dodging your questions about him. Johan might have a point why he prefers not to expound about his identity, but perhaps, even moths do not understand the danger of flames waiting upon their curious and entranced heads until they finally have it, and it just so happens that you're no different from them. And so you expertly track the conversation into asking something personal about Johan.
It is until he chuckled defeatedly did you halt, “I understand, I understand. At least I'm confident you wouldn't be easily swayed by anyone once you settle in a new place with a new identity. But didn't Anna tell you enough about me? I'm certain I told her to orient you before meeting me tonight.”
“She didn't tell me that much, otherwise I wouldn't be this curious.”
“You see, how much must you know about a person enough to trust them?”
“Mr. Johan, I just want to make sure you're not here to murder me along the way.”
Johan seems amused at the remark, to say the least, “Perhaps you should just arm yourself while you're with me then. Who knows when I'd pull my shenanigans at you.”
“Oh well, I suppose you watch me run my heart off later as soon as we finish eating.”
“Why not now? You can’t tell how much mercy I could share tonight.” 
If not for Anna's humor, you would certainly not be chuckling right now. “One of your mercy included bringing me to a place like this. The food you've bought for me melts in my mouth quite nicely. If I start running only to be caught, at least I'll die a happy girl.”
“You can say that's one of my ways to entice my clients. Savor my mercy by all means.”
You roll your eyes with a smile. Needless to say that the uncomfortability subsided quite a bit. At least you were able to know that Mr. Johan, whoever he might be, is someone who holds the same vibe as your friends. Perhaps the journey with him would be a little less lonely.
A week after, Johan laid out five steps you have to do alongside him.
Target a place to settle down.
An unpopulated town would be the best choice. They usually have landlords who don't require much legal documents before accepting tenants. Johan will arrange the needed documents for your new identity, but that doesn't mean you'll flaunt it wherever. You must only show them when absolutely necessary.
Accumulate a huge sum of money.
Johan doesn’t care how and how much. All you have to do is ensure that it will suffice your expenses while adjusting to your new place.
“But honestly, you don’t need to worry about that too much.”
“Why?”
Johan shrugs, “You could say a special friend wants you to be at ease, hence they took care of it in your stead.”
Anna!
You beam upon realization. It's been a while since you've seen Anna. You rarely even go back to your apartment complex. You're starting to be absent oftenly at school, too. “Does that mean—” you couldn’t help but be excited at the premise, “even if I managed to leave everyone who knew of my identity, Anna would be an exception? Oh, how lovely that'd be.”
Johan, as usual, does not give an answer. Perhaps it’s because your question is quite a given already, but deep inside you—a voice begging to be heard but dismissed for reasons unknown—there’s something in Johan’s reaction that needs to be pointed out. His features twitch; he looks like he’s about to laugh, sardonically so, even though his face barely moved at all. “Do you like Anna that much?”
“I do. I wouldn’t have found myself if not for her.”
“Why?”
“We're similar in so many ways. I'm not the type of person who could easily bond with others, but Anna made it seem so easy. You could call us a match-made in heaven, maybe?”
“And you wouldn't mind ceasing your existence if you get to be with her nonetheless?”
“Yes.”
There, you see Johan's face gleam. It is perhaps akin to satisfaction. In one glimpse you'd think his expression is similar to Anna's when she laid down beside you that night.
“You two must be siblings if not twins,” you blurt out, with which you immediately regretted. Shit, Johan doesn't like being asked personal questions!
Surprisingly, he shakes his head instead of dismissing you, “It's more complicated than that, but yes, that could be perhaps the nearest term to use.”
You nod, smiling, already satisfied that Johan entertained your question with a smile lighter than his usual blank one. You wonder if you had said something that pleased him so much, or maybe he just appreciates your wholesome relationship with Anna.
Step one and two were easily accomplished within two months. Hence, the succeeding steps pushed through.
Banish all your digital footprints.
Erase your email. Bother no more with the Monster spamming you there. You let out a chuckle. All the terror these emails have caused could finally be a memory to look back to. 
Write letters to the people who could potentially look for you if you're gone for too long.
Every loved one who would potentially go beyond measures to find you (and lose their heads while doing so) is a threat that must be tamed. The most important thing when you want to disappear without a trace is to minimize people's urges to search for you. The letter must include telling them that you want to do this, that this is something you decided for yourself, and that even if you're gone, you wouldn't be in any sort of danger.
This step finally resurfaced the reluctance of it all, albeit it's still not strong enough to cancel the whole plan. You don't want to be alone. The reluctance is coming from the irony of it all. Anna was right, you've been trying so hard to earn people's affection so you could stay with them, but the very reason for that is your attachment.
“Then leave them before they do it first. That way it would hurt less,” Johan replies.
His remark made you remember something about your childhood friend before the Kinderheim flames. Well, almost everything that's happening in your day could be a trigger to dream about him. 
Back in childhood, as much as you were glad that your little friend wouldn't be able to leave you so easily because of someone he mustn't forget, you started getting anxious by the fact that once Johan is together again with that person, he'd drop you alone all over again. You knew deep inside that once he granted your wish, he'll leave the sanctuary to be with the person he mustn't forget. Letting him do whatever he wanted was perhaps your own way to detach yourself—to lose the tiny bit of hope that you'll be friends forever.
This recollection intensified your guilt. Had Grimmer and Lunge known this side of you, they'd certainly regret trying to help you. You are an irredeemable monster, a voice inside you repeatedly mutters.
“You're right,” you smile defeatedly. “It's always been that way for me.”
The car halts to the apartment complex you started renting as a safety measure whenever you're out with Johan. That way, Johan coming across people like Grimmer, Lunge, and Frieda could be avoidable. “See you tomorrow, then.”
You heard him right and yet you're too conflicted to get off the car, fidgety and all, because of the unkind voices lurking inside your head. They are extra louder today.
“Would you—” you stammer, “would you like to have dinner upstairs before you go?”
You feel Johan's driver, Roberto, give you a quick glance as though your offer surprised him. He then gazes at the younger blonde, and eventually nods as if he understood him immediately.
“I know how clear you are with setting personal boundaries. I-I just feel bad for making you do this much as my agent,” you lie. “Don't worry. I'm not gonna ask anything personal either. I'll cook you a simple dinner and that's it.”
Johan, much to your surprise, gets off the car, opens the door by your side, and offers his hand with a smile. Now that you think of it, this is the first time you'll be feeling this agent's hand—that's how distant you two were for months of confiding in each other. It is until you touch him for real that you realize how familiar this feeling is. This certainly happened before, the sentence ringed in your head, even if this is the first time you've had his hand on yours. 
The dinner was silent. Johan knew exactly what you needed. A squint and everything would've felt quite intimate. Johan — as though showing you that he's human and not some ethereal being eating with you — picks up the table napkin from his lap and dabs it to the corner of his lips, yet it's still so poised, so refined, that you wonder if this dinner is actually with an agent and not a blind date Anna has set up for you.
It paved the way to imagine how things would've been if you knew his real name, and you two met under circumstances where you don't have to erase your identity.
Tumblr media
“...my name.”
Your vision was blurry with tears, heart in deep pain you could've just chosen death, but Johan's cryptic begging was what kept you awake.
He mutters as though you're the only one who could grant what he wants. “My…my n-name…”
Not that he's wrong. Only the two of you are inside the room at this moment. Daddy said Johan's quiz today would need someone outside Kinderheim, and who else would be most enthusiastic for the job if not you?
The quiz, as how you see it, is just you and Johan being left alone in a room. There's a huge mirror—Daddy said that you shouldn't worry because the mirror is actually a window where they could watch you. You were excited at first. You thought he and his workmates would just watch you play legos together.
Only now did you realize how awful these quizzes actually were. This is the first time you'd seen him wearing a mere t-shirt, and you feel utterly sick in the stomach seeing so many bruises on his arm—most of which are injection shots. This is the reason why Johan always looks like he had just woken up—so fragile, lethargic, but still smiling whenever you two hang out together. 
“What are you talking about, Johan?”
“My name,” Johan, finally sounding like someone his age—a literal child who lived not beyond ten—mutters weakly, defenseless, and about to faint. “Call me by my name.”
Out of desperation, you follow, “Johan! Stay with me, Johan!”
Why is Johan so weak and begging? Why does he have a fresh injection wound on his arm?
This particular memory was blurred by your tears, with loud crying blocking your hearing, but it felt so raw, so genuine, so painful not for yourself, but for Johan, for everything he had gone through.
How tragic it is, indeed, for Johan was more talkative during this moment. Despite his weakened state, he was using all his energy left to talk to you—as if a toddler yapping to its guardian about how awful his days went, or perhaps a best friend ranting about a very unfortunate incident. But you couldn't remember! Of all things, why would this memory be the blurriest of them all?
“Please,” he breathes, already lying down. “Please call me by my name.”
“Johan,” you cried. “Your name is Johan!”
“My name…” your little friend's eyes are now empty, as if he's reliving a memory only he knows. You're not even sure if he could still see you, let alone if he knows where he is. “Call me by my name.”
“Johan.”
“My name—”
“Johan!”
Much to your horror, the last words uttered by the little boy before closing his eyes was, “Chomp, chomp, munch, munch, gobble, gobble, gulp.”
“Johan!” you scream.
And that was the needed signal for Daddy and his men to enter. They were smiling at you in gratitude while you looked at them in horror. 
“He said a lot of things today. That's the most talkative Johan we had encountered. Good job.” Daddy's workmate pats your head.
They attempt to carry his unconscious figure, but you stubbornly swat them away to protect him. When their patience ran dry, they grabbed you away, muttering apologies because even though you really did well, Johan needs to go back.
They spoke as if this would be the last time you'd see him.
“No! Give Johan back to me!” you scream. “Get away from him!”
You were thrashing all over the place, albeit futilely, and you felt a needle being injected to you not long after.
The rest of the dream was just black. You could hear your Daddy talking to you, but for some reason your brain couldn't grasp it visually.
“Would you like to know what Johan's quiz was about?”
“Johan… give him back to me…”
“It's you. You were the quiz.”
“Johan…”
“The only reason you were introduced to him was for this quiz.”
“H-huh…?”
“Johan is such an interesting child. They were wondering if there could ever be a way for him to lay himself bare, but Kinderheim kids are not allowed to befriend each other, so I suggested you instead.”
“Why…?”
“Because you two are both special,” Daddy answers, “but how sad. Now that the quiz is finished, you'll never see him again.”
“N-no, please don't do this…”
“You still want to see him, no?”
“Give Johan back to me.”
“I'm sure Johan feels the same. After all, the quiz wouldn't have been successful if Johan didn't feel extreme attachment towards you,” Daddy solemnly said. “The plan was to make him so emotionally vulnerable to a subject, then abruptly cut it off. In other words, you two wouldn't see each other again.”
“No. Don't do that to him.”
“Frustrating, isn't it?” Daddy sounds a little sardonic this time. “It makes you want to punish them, no?”
You sob.
“You poor thing. You want to see Johan again, don't you?”
You nod.
“I could help,” he suddenly sounds eerily positive. “See, you told me before that Johan wants you to see fireworks up close…”
You nod.
“Could you tell me more about it?”
Tumblr media
Surprisingly, as soon as you open your eyes, the blonde agent is looming above you. You're lying down on the couch; he's seated in front of you. With sheer guilt, you ask, “Did I sleep for too long?” Hell, you don't even remember sleeping after dinner. You should've let him leave first before slacking off.
“You don't feel well, so I ushered you to the couch to sleep then washed the dishes,” he blankly replies, neither smiling nor scorning. 
“I'm sorry. The previous days have been quite tiring for me.”
Silence envelops the room, tormentingly so. Johan looked grim as he sat there—it's as if you had said something in your sleep that bothered him.
“Are you okay?”
“Do you remember now?”
Huh? “Remember what?”
Johan does not say more. And that made you remember something.
“I don't think I could call you Johan anymore.”
If the agent was curious, he shows no sign of it. “Why?”
“It's…uh…not really a name I disdain.”
“Oh? Then what is it?”
“I prefer not to tell.”
“What is Johan to you?”
This is the first time this agent sounds so pressing, so curious, one squint and you'd think he knows the whole history between you and Johan, which would be weird because not even Anna knows the whole story.
“You were never this curious,” you nervously laugh, “I thought we had established about personal inquiries.”
The tormenting silence pushed through for five minutes or so, with which he eventually stood up and thanked you for the lovely dinner. The agent looks grim this time around for reasons you couldn't decipher. Hence you try to ask when you still have a chance. “Please. Tell me your name.”
“My name…” the blonde agent whispers, albeit to himself. You couldn't see his face, but you definitely saw the wind beautifully sweeping his wavy hair. It's as though it's meant to accentuate the forlorn in his voice—which again, you couldn't seem to know why. Suddenly, he asks, “The final step we have, do you remember?”
Oh, you do.
Give farewell letters to those who need it. Schedule a heart-to-heart talk to those who wouldn't take no for an answer.
This is the only step this agent refused to involve himself with, but he assured you that come what may, he’s just someplace watching idle. If things go dire, he’d personally come to you. 
“What about it?”
“Finish all of it tomorrow.”
Perhaps he sensed you're procrastinating on it, hence you mutter an apology, “Don't worry, I'll get back to it soon. It's the hardest step, to be honest.”
“No, it has to be tomorrow.”
“Why…?”
Finally, the agent turns his head to you, this time with a smile. “It has to be tomorrow, so I could reward you by telling my name.”
What a peculiar behavioral activation there is, but oh wasn't that an effective one.
Tumblr media
<<< PREV CHAPTER • GET TAGGED FOR THE NEXT UPDATE
🏷️ @bianca4evers @lyneyenthusiast @suntizme @hyejohann @onasvigo @hannn-iee @bisexualgirlie @eurydiceofterabithia @hopingggforthebest
Tumblr media
i am yet to edit this whole thing. i feel quite sorry for not updating, so i decided to just publish a barely-proofread chapter (and unfinished, tbh, if we were to base on my story plan). here's a looming johan to compensate. 
Tumblr media
22 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
He’s a Collision girl.
124 notes · View notes
theworstcreature · 25 days
Text
Chat what if I started crying
Tw for animal death in the tags
4 notes · View notes
seilon · 11 months
Text
just wrote like three paragraphs ranting about my living situation and deleted it just know I am going insane and i hate it here and I need to live by my fucking self or I am going to absolutely fucking lose it
#I can not stand cleaning up shit for people anymore I can’t stand people taking my stuff or messing up shit I clean or organize or whatever#I hate feeling pressured to stay in my room constantly because she almost never fucking leaves and the entire living room/kitchen area is#apparently her fucking home office now. so there’s just nowhere else to go where I’m not forced to interact with her#not to mention how I cleaned out that entire area EXTENSIVELY only a couple months ago and now all of that work is just gone#she re-cluttered it and now it’s a nightmare again :)#and she’s out there in the first place because she clutters her room and desk in her room to such an extent that it’s basically unusable#at least when I had a shitty roommate her mess was confined to one side of a bedroom more or less#and there was a living room/kitchen that wasn’t a fucking nightmare that I could generally control the tidiness of#I can’t fucking live like this I can’t keep cleaning and cleaning and cleaning and throwing away shit and organizing shit and whatever#just to have it all be for NOTHING every fucking time because she takes more shit out and doesnt put it away and buys more shit#that we can’t fucking afford and don’t immediately need and hahaggsgsgshsshshhhshshshshssh#I can’t fucking do it! I really can’t keep doing this it makes me violently angry and one of these days I’m going to snap and break my door#or something#I didn’t even want to move back in here to begin with this was supposed to be temporary. as in only for a couple months#but all my job applications fail and I have no other form of income or support so. haha I’m stuck here#i won’t even get started on just#not wanting to live with her for a million other reasons#I need to get the fuck out of here I do not want to be responsible for cleaning up her messes and doing whatever she says without choice#cause I mean. that’s another thing. At least my roommate couldn’t force me to do whatever she wanted with any resistance being seen as#criminally disrespectful and depending on her wildly unpredictable mood maybe she’ll verbally abuse me or degrade me or accuse me of things#who knows!#also won’t get into the fact that I’m almost two years on t and she still misgenders me and deadnames me and believes she has the right to#do so#kibumblabs#negative#delete later probably.
3 notes · View notes
euphor1a · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
look who’s our b'day boy today 🥺;; my baby, my angel, my star, he really tried to look angry, but he ended up looking like the “🥺” emoji 😭🌸🥺🌈✨🦊🧚🏼‍♂️🍒
#junnie 🦊#i love him so much it hurts 😞💘#happy yeonjun day everyone 💞#i fell in love head first from the moment i saw him in runaway mv </3 no one’s surprised bdfhghdgh#he’s chaotic and all (literally my polar opposite) but he’ll always be my kpop comfort boy 🥺💗#junnie has made me smile and laugh in times i thought i was incapable of doing so :(#i also re-watch his old vlives because i’m in love with him and watching him gives me so much peace and happiness </3#more than often i feel the urge to just go *nom nom* but sometimes i simply want to throw my hands at him... let’s not talk about that tho#i want to be all wholesome and lovey-dovey today#if my heart is imagined as a large home... i’d say yeonjun is that guy who’s everywhere. like; he has never stayed in a specific place#+ since the day he entered. why? well... the love i hold for him is kind of like a rushing river from the mountains.#however i’d say that the water is gentle despite it’s rush to meet the sea or maybe another river.#he’s the type of person who gets more and more lovable as you get to know about him 🥰#and the river in my heart reaches the nooks and crannies i didn’t know existed in the first place...#loving him is like walking barefoot on the grass and bathing in the early rays of the morning sun#the calming sound of the river flowing by and some unknown bird singing sweetly can also be heard#i hope he is always happy. no matter what happens. i hope he knows that he is so so loved.#i wish i could hug him and tell him how much he means to me ☹️#choi yeonjun... you’re light years away from what people think/say about you.#i love him :(#didn’t wanna cry but is anyone even mildly surprised?
12 notes · View notes
ziracona · 2 years
Text
I really miss Dragon Age 2.
#I’m not sure I can say it was the best one? technically speaking Origins probably is? but it was the one that I liked the story of most. it#hit me deepest. that messed me up but I also loved it. and it was much better designed for cause and effect#dragon age 2#inquisition is frustrating because half the time - especially w War Room - you pick as well as you can based on all the info you /have/ at#your disposal and it goes ‘hehe you picked Lelianna’s ‘let’s be cautious and scout first’ ^u^ over Josephine’s ‘let’s ask the nobles if they#can help intel gather’ and Cullen’s ‘let’s send our soldiers to look around’. 300 people died ^u^’#so if you want good results you either re-load or use a guide bc there’s little sense to it & you’re constantly punished not for really your#own choices but just arbitrarily. I used a guide like 3 times the entirety of DA2. I use them constantly for DAI becuase every time I go ‘im#just gonna play normally : )’ ten minutes later I tell some girl the wardens seem cool & she immediately gets brutally murdered#also they constantly have NPcs there to tell you something and die seconds later and it’s so annoying??? in every other DA game you can heal#and save NPCs you find injured but now they go ‘tell my wife…I’m sorry…’ and die and you have a quest to tell their wife ‘sorry I didn’t#give her one of the 40 health potions I was carrying’ or some idiocy. I have NOT ONCE been able to save by healing an NPC when in every#other game I had MANY chances. no heal even EXISTS as a spell in DAI when it’s a basic skill in every other game???#also the quests are structured so badly half the time I walk into a house and kill a monster and Varric goes ‘ah the High Beam Killer dead#at last’ and I won’t know what the fuck he’s saying At All but some quest marked Spooky Mansion is marked completed and I gain exp without#ever remotely knowing what the quest was in the first place#in DA2 when I got punished I deserved it. in Act3 the Mages with Grace suspected me of turning them in bc I tricked the Templars instead of#killing Thrask and that made sense. I did pick a slightly less safe outcome to protect him. i absolutely never betrayed them but I did take#a risk that put /them/ at risk and it made sense for her to distrust me. In DAI my friends get killed because I’m Qunari no matter what I do#at the war table before or after and they just give me pointless missions about it so I have the illusion of choice and consequence#DAI is obsessed with Only Bad Outcome quests because the Devs are centrists who think there’s no right answer to fucking anything and it#deeply damages the story structure and the quest load out#(I don’t hate DAI I’m just venting. I enjoy many many parts of it. but some I want to destroy rabidly with a hammer)
13 notes · View notes
arklay · 2 years
Text
the fact that i call myself a completionist. liar. like i am in terms of collectibles but sometimes achievements are just too hard besties
4 notes · View notes
comixandco · 3 months
Text
.
#my step dad just tried to clean up dog sick with a towel#like. the kind of towel you would use after a shower.#it didn’t even soak it up it just moved it around the floor i don’t understand#we’ve had a dog that gets sick fairly frequently for over a decade why would he use a giant ass cloth towel#it’s the towel i use to dry the dog when he’s wet too so now i’m just going to have to cross my fingers that we don’t get wet or muddy on#our walk in a few hours???? and the washing machine is obviously comandeered to clean the sickly towel#when i saw the sick and know it’s touched the door mat and the washing machine is also going to needed to wash that#and the doormat can’t be tumble dried so it would Sure be cool if that could have been washed first so that I could put it outside to dry#before the weather turns i just can’t comprehend#why he would try to clean up in such an inconvenient way that adds steps to the clean up process when we’ve been cleaning sick the same way#the entire time????????#like i’m frustrated that now i’m going to have to go back in when he’s left and re-do everything because i can’t trust him to have actually#disinfected the ground and i’ll need to put the doormat somewhere but mostly i just don’t understand how he can mess up something#he must do every couple of weeks#How often has he been using that towel to clean up sick??????? it’s never in the washing machine usually i’m the one#who sees it’s dirty and washes it have i been rubbing our dog with it’s own sick???????????
0 notes
sttoru · 27 days
Text
Tumblr media
⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your older boyfriend, satoru, shows you just how much he adores you in his private office <3
tags. older bf!gojo satoru x virgin!female reader. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). smut, pwp. fīngering. multiple ōrgàsms; overstimulation. mention of corruption kink. dry hūmping. nicknames ‘princess, baby, beautiful’. pls ignore any grammar errors xx
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“heh, don’t look at me. look at yourself, princess,” satoru chuckles, easily noticing how your head is tilted in attempt to watch him as he gets you off. you’re sitting on his thighs with your legs spread, shamelessly allowing him to finger you in his office.
your shaky eyes dart down to your dripping cunt—clearly seeing how it’s got a mind of its own. it’s squeezing satoru’s long fingers as he moves them in the speed of light. your limbs are shaking by the amount of pleasure you’re receiving.
“the-the door,” you hiccup. you hadn’t locked the door behind you when you walked into satoru’s office. you definitely wouldn’t want any of his colleagues to walk in on you. though, that didn’t seem to worry your boyfriend. all he’s focusing on at the moment is your perfect pussy taking in his middle and ring finger.
satoru’s glossy lips are parted and covered in spit. he has to lick up the drool from the corner of his mouth so it wouldn’t dirty your opened blouse. he’s quite literally salivating at the sight and feeling of your warm cunt. . .
“the others ‘re busy, they won’t come in as long as you keep your pretty voice down,” satoru promises you in a smooth tone, blue eyes wide with fascination as he stares down at your pussy.
he’s always imagined what it’d be like to be inside of you. what it would feel like to hold you in his arms and make love to you without holding himself back— to show you a world you have yet to discover.
satoru wants to be the first one to do that, though he’ll wait until you’re ready. for now, he’s completely satisfied with just a taste of heaven.
“fuck, baby, she’s beautiful,” satoru praises your delicate pussy. your wet folds continue to make way for more of his fingers, spreading as he tries to enter a third digit into your poor, clingy hole. you whine as you feel satoru prepare you by rubbing your clit repeatedly with his thumb—trying to make you as wet for him as you possibly could be.
you shake your head, “can’t take more, ‘toru.” it genuinely feels like you’re being stretched out. three fingers are going to take you out. “nuh-uh,” satoru mocks you before telling you to look at him. the moment you do, his lips envelop yours in a lustful yet comforting kiss. you moan into his mouth and he does the same back, eyebrows furrowing because of how good it feels to suck on your tongue.
his fingers don’t stop. the third slides in and you jolt back against satoru’s chest. “shh, shh, i got you,” the older man attempts to calm you down. he stops fingering you for a second so you could adjust to the stretch. you’re tight—he can feel his erect cock twitching in his pants, begging to replace his fingers. he can’t, not yet.
satoru cusses under his breath once he feels your ass rub against the bulge in his uniform’s pants. you’re killing him and you don’t even realise it because you’re too focused on his fingers fucking your cunt. shlick shlick shlick — you’re dripping wet.
“i’m gonna cum,” you whisper through a soft gasp. it would be your third orgasm. you’re sensitive and your pussy feels like it’s on fire. your lower abdomen is tingling and aching. you’re going to inevitably squirt all over his chair, again.
satoru bites his lip as he hears you announce how close you are. his long fingers are already soaked with your juices, coating them with a sticky layer that he cannot wait to taste. “do it, baby. wanna see you cum,” your boyfriend coos.
satoru loves the way your hips circle back to him, rubbing against his groin. you’re driving him insane without even knowing it. he curls his fingers inside you, thumb still circling your clit for extra stimulation. you’re being driven to the edge of insanity.
he bucks his hips a little each time you involuntarily move in his lap. “toruuu, fnnh, so close,” you’re not only moaning because of the fingers inside of you, but also because of the hard bulge rubbing against and between your ass cheeks.
satoru knows your voice can easily carry over to the next room. you’re usually loud when you finish on his fingers. he takes his free hand and pushes your head back against his shoulder, his index and middle finger sliding into your mouth to silence you.
your whimpers are muffled as you automatically start sucking on his digits. satoru kisses your ear and jawline, whispering small words of praise against your skin because of your obedience. “keep it down for me, beautiful. y’re already doing so well.”
your eyes roll back as your saliva dribbles down his left hand. the wet trail runs down his veiny arm that’s exposed to your view. you love it when satoru pushes the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows—it reminds you of why everyone fawns over him. it’s hot.
you’re trying to hold out, not wanting to cum. you wish to stay like this, with satoru’s fingers deep in your cunt and mouth, his bulge grinding against the fat of your ass.
the white-haired man instantly notices this and chuckles to himself; you’re fighting a losing battle. he increases the pace, his wrist working over time so his fingers could reach those sweet spots in your velvety walls. he decides to rile you up some more;
“shiit, just imagine that ‘ts my cock stretching your pretty cunt out,” satoru grins against your ear. he knows you’re weak for dirty talk. you have never felt what it’s like to be stuffed full of a dick, and thus the imagination adds to the raunchiness of it all.
you shiver and let out a small moan escape your mouth before you continue to suck on satoru’s fingers. all this time you’ve settled for make out sessions, grinding and oral pleasure. you’re needy for more than that.
satoru knows what buttons to push. he knows how to make you melt and give in to him and his words. he bites your earlobe after letting his tongue lick the skin, “all filled up to the brim. you’d like that, huh?”
you barely managed to stifle a loud whine at that. your eyes widen and your pussy spasms around his fingers. you know it’s not long before you’re going to cream all over satoru’s hand.
sweat trickles down your forehead.
“yes, yes, yes!” you moan repeatedly, voice muffled by the fingers in your mouth. you can hear your boyfriend grunt into your ear after seeing how enthusiastically you’re responding. he’s totally getting off to you’re desperation.
satoru wants to cum so bad. he wants to shoot ropes of his cum in the pussy he’s prepping to one day take his dick.
you see black spots in your vision because of how hard the climax hits you. your breath hitches and you grip onto the armrests of the chair for support. a spray of clear and watery juices covers satoru’s entire hand and bits of his arm—evidence of just how much you enjoyed your little session with him.
the older man pats your tummy and rubs it, comforting you as the aftershocks of your climax hit. he pulls his fingers out of your messy cunt and brings them up to his glossy lips, thoroughly licking every drop off. his dick pulses in his pants at the delicious taste.
you’re panting as you try to get your thighs to stop shaking. you’re out of energy, drained. all that you hear replaying in your mind is satoru’s dirty talk. you don’t know if you can handle his dick if you’re already overwhelmed by the way he skilfully uses his fingers.
as if sensing your thoughts, your boyfriend smirks and hugs your body tightly to his chest.
“can’t give it t’ ya now,” satoru whispers and pouts, teasing you as if to turn you on again. he takes his wet fingers out of your mouth and presses his lips against yours as a promise, “but one day i will, yeah? one day i’ll fuck ya so good you’ll only know my name.”
Tumblr media
7K notes · View notes