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pullhisteeth · 1 year

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classified | eddie munson x reader

summary at your wits end, you put an ad in the classifieds for a special kind of tutor. Eddie finds it and takes you up on the offer. (nsfw) [13k]

contains smut (18+ minors dni!) – p in v sex, oral (f receiving), lots of praise, virgin!reader, fem!reader, hurt/comfort. eddie's a sweetheart, fluff, first time turned something more (?).

author's notes this one's a long one! the idea made me laugh and then it took on a life of its own. I want to say this is meant to be somewhat lighthearted and is not a suggestion that anyone should be having sex if they haven't already – your body's yours, baby, do whatever you want! no one should ever make you feel rushed into anything!!! anyway Eddie is an angel and I want one. bye!

Eddie's not sure why he's reading the newspaper. Boredom, perhaps; he's been waiting for Wayne to get home from his shift for over an hour. He's thought about calling the plant, but the walk from the couch to the phone seems to be the perfect amount of time to convince himself that he's probably on his way home already.

It's the Hawkins Post. It gets delivered by a snot-nose boy on a bike every week, thrown far too hard at their tin front door. Wayne reads it some weeks, others it gets used to wrap his lunch. Apparently this one he'd read it, flicked through the pages half-heartedly before leaving it open on a centrefold about the local elections. Trust Wayne to get bored of small-town politics, Eddie thinks.

So he picks up where Wayne left off, slowly pulling the pages apart, skimming stories about the endemic of teen pregnancy, or columns about the rejuvenation plans for downtown Hawkins.

Finally, he reaches the only bit of the newspaper that Eddie has ever found interesting: the classifieds (and, on the back of the classifieds, the call-girl ads).

He skims them, eyes brushing past ads for cleaners, dog walkers, nannies. Finds the ones hidden at the bottom – the letters written in code, ads for attractive female friends and women seeking younger men. He's never actually interested in them, but they provide a glimpse into the underbelly of Hawkins, a small town that is, for all intents and purposes, entirely normal. But nowhere is ever truly normal, and Eddie likes to seize the opportunity to pry into the scandalous goings-on of his boring hometown.

He's reading one about swingers when the one beside it catches his eye. It's plain – whoever paid for it kept their costs to a minimum. All it says is:

WOMAN, 23, SEEKING FIRST TIME.

He stares at the bold ink, the statement in all caps that, despite being maybe the lowest cost ad in the whole paper – it's in a box about three inches tall in the very corner of the page – jumps out at him anyway. Underneath the title, it reads: young woman looking for judgement-free first time. Min. age 22, max. age 28. Must have experience. At the very bottom, in almost imperceptible print, is a phone number.

Eddie hadn't realised how close his face was to the page until he hears the familiar sound of Wayne's car pull up outside. He throws the paper down onto his lap and sighs before scrambling around to at least try to look casual, and not like all the blood has rushed to his face. In the few seconds he has between the sound of Wayne's car door closing and him coming up the stairs, Eddie tears the page out, folding it quickly and shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans as he stands.

The door opens just as he gets to his feet, and Wayne comes trudging in with his steel lunch pail and heavy boots.

"Hey, Wayne," Eddie says, breathless, trying his best to sound level. Wayne eyes him as he closes the door, before turning to dump his stuff on the table.

"C'mon, kid, you promised me a burger."

The piece of newspaper stays in Eddie's pocket for three more days.

Wayne had been late getting home – something came up, but Eddie wasn't listening too hard, brain on that stupid ad instead – so their weekly trip to Benny's had run until the early hours of Friday morning.

And then Friday was work and Hellfire, which Eddie still leads despite having graduated two years ago, and this time the kids kept him going for hours. By the time he got home he hadn't even thought about the page before crashing into bed.

And then Saturday is family day, as Nancy puts it. Eddie had woken up late, rolled out of bed into the freshest clothes he could find, and into his van to act as bus driver for the morning. His little gaggle of unruly teenagers crammed into the back of it one by one, laughing and teasing and shouting. Steve's home became louder and still, Eddie relished in that feeling of peace he gets once a week with all these misfits he calls friends.

By Sunday morning, the newspaper had been long forgotten in the pocket of his jeans that he'd left in a pile on his bedroom floor. He's laid on his back on his bed, head dangling off the edge, puffing mindlessly on a spliff he'd rolled for himself two days ago that had also been forgotten. The room's a little fuzzy round the edges, just the way he likes it, the sunlight creeping warm paws up his arms. It smells funny in here, he thinks, so he turns over, pushes himself off the bed, and reaches up to open his window. On his way back to his bed, he trips on something, landing with a huff as his ribs hit the corner of the mattress.

"Fuck," he hisses, reaching down to pull the culprit off the floor. It's just an old pair of jeans, so he throws them into the corner, out of the way, and resumes his position, splayed out across the bed.

From this angle, with his head hanging upside down, he spots something by the pile of denim he'd just discarded.

His brain's ticking over slowly under the haze of being stoned, but after a second he realises what it is, and clambers all too quickly off the bed and across the room.

Maybe it's that haze, coating his brain with thick fog; maybe it's the fact that, in the year since he graduated, he's had to settle for quick fucks behind the Hideout after a gig; or maybe, just maybe, it's dangerous curiosity.

Whatever it is, something motivates him to move through his room, down the narrow corridor into the kitchen. There's something hijacking his limbs, and it reaches up to the phone on the wall. With eyes on the page in his hand he spins the dial, listening to the tone as it rings, rings, rings.

The longer he stands there, the more convinced he becomes in his intoxicated miasma that this is some kind of prank; he's going to be met with a stupid kid on the other end, laughing at him for bothering to call at all.

When he finally decides that this is just that, a practical joke, the line clicks. There's a low buzz on the other end, so low he thinks maybe the line just went dead, but then a voice.

"Hello?"

He's taken aback by the sound of it, but not so much that he doesn't notice the sleep coating it. Despite his stupor, he can't help but apologise.

"Shit, sorry, did I wake you?"

"Who is this?" You're sharper now, coming to, and he kicks himself for fucking this up already.

"Oh, shit, uh, sorry. I called about… I got this number, uh, in the paper."

"Fuck," he hears you whisper. He's not sure if he was supposed to hear it. He feels bad.

"Sorry, I'll go, this was-"

"Look, I put that age range in the ad for a reason. I'm sick of gettin' calls from middle aged men, I-"

"I'm twenty-three."

You're silent on the other end for a moment, but he can hear your breath hitch.

"Well, shit," you finally say. "Y'don't sound it."

He laughs an awkward, stilted laugh, unsure what to say.

"Sorry, I've had so many guys – men, old men – callin' me up, tryin' to flirt with me down the phone, I just… The ad was a mistake, clearly."

He likes the way you talk. You've got a pretty voice.

"Uh, thanks," you say.

Shit.

"Fuck, sorry, did I say that out loud?" Moron.

You laugh, the sound fizzing down the telephone line, and it eases some of his insecurity.

"I'm sorry," he says, starting fresh. "I'll leave you be, have a good-"

"Wait," you bite, and he can hear you shuffling around. "Wait just a sec, I- fuck, where the fuck is it? I… Sorry, can you just wait for a second?"

"Sure, sure," he murmurs, trailing off when he realises you've set the phone down. He listens to the faint sounds of you rummaging around and swearing under your breath. He must look like an idiot, stood in his kitchen, smiling at his phone, waiting for a stranger he found in the paper.

He hears you coming back, footsteps getting louder, before you pick the phone back up.

"Y'still there?"

"Yeah," he laughs. You speak to him like he's an old friend and it keeps catching him off guard.

"Okay," you say. "Here's the thing. I put that stupid ad in the paper because I was sad, and my life has been a misery since then, because literally every guy who's called me has been, like, at least forty, which some people are into I guess but I'm not, and- Sorry."

You're rambling, stumbling over your words even though he can tell you're trying to be professional or something. He stays quiet and hopes you'll keep going.

After a beat, you say, "I guess, 'cause you called, you'd be up for it?"

"Uh, well," he stammers. "That's kinda why I called. Care to explain what it is you want, exactly?"

He's not sure where the sudden confidence has come from; maybe the weed's wearing off.

"Okay, yeah," you breathe. "So, uh, my plan, I guess, was that I'd… You'd take, uh, my virginity."

You almost whisper the last part, like it's some kind of slur, and Eddie can't help but laugh on the other end.

You start to sound exasperated, frustrated, so he tries to claw you back.

"Sorry, sorry, it's just so… frank."

"Well, bein' all coy about it hasn't really worked out for me so far."

Can't argue with that logic.

"Okay," he says, trying to ignore the excitement bubbling inside him. You're a stranger, he's a stranger, and this whole thing is kind of weird. Shit, he thinks. Am I a perv?

"How do you want to do this?"

"Well," you start, sounding like you've got this part planned out. "First I need to know you're not gonna murder me or something, so I'll give you an address near my house but not at my house, and we can meet there whenever… and, uh, what year were you born?"

"What?"

"Just… So I feel a bit more sure you're actually twenty-three."

"Hah, okay. 1965."

"Okay, sweet. You got a pen?"

"Shit, yeah, one sec."

His eyes dart around the room. With the phone between his ear and his shoulder, he moves as far as the cord will let him, to a drawer by the front door. At the back there's an old pencil and some scraps of junk mail.

"Got it!" he declares, too enthusiastic but it makes you giggle so he laughs too.

"Okay," you start, and you tell him an address he vaguely recognises, closer to the nicer side of town, halfway between here and where Steve's house is.

"It's a park, kind of. It's pretty public anyways, so if you were, y'know, planning to kill me or whatever, don't bother."

"I'll take that off the to-do list," he tells you through a smirk.

"Very funny," you say, your sentence half-formed like you can't find the words to finish it. "Wait, what's your name?"

"Eddie. Munson."

"Okay, Eddie Munson," you say before telling him yours and deciding that you'll meet him later that day. You tell him it's easier that way, that you can't bear to have to wait all week, sitting on the nerves that might make you change your mind.

That's exactly what Eddie does all afternoon. You'd decided on six that evening, when it's still light but late enough that you both have time to back out, and so he sits, stoned out of his mind on both weed and the phone call, feeling something he's rarely felt before.

It's like cola in his gut, bubbling and frothing every time he tries to move. Is this what people feel when they say they have butterflies? Because it doesn't really feel like that; it feels instead like the madness inside him is floating upwards, fizzing around his heart, prodding and poking at it at uneven rhythms. His mind is reeling, too; he hadn't really thought this through at all. What if, even after that call, you're still planning on playing some kind of trick on him? What if this is an elaborate scheme to publicly humiliate him? Maybe you get a kick out of that kind of thing.

There's another thing, creeping around at the back of his mind, lurking. It's that horrid hopefulness, the what if that feels so far from likely that if he lends too much time to thinking about it, he feels stupid.

What if you're great?

He shakes himself out, standing up off his bed. He'd been lying there for the past two hours, sobering up, dwelling on every detail of the call, lingering in particular on your voice and your laugh and the way you say sweet so often.

He doesn't know who you are. He didn't recognise your name when you told him, even though you're his age. He didn't recognise your voice either, but he likes it, and he wasn't lying when he (accidentally) told you it's pretty.

He looks at the clock beside his bed. The red numbers flicker as they change to 16:52.

One hour.

He's early.

It's ten to six, and he's early.

The sun's low but not gone yet, and the park you sent him to is actually kind of nice. He's in his van, waiting until it's a socially acceptable time to get out and wait for you. What is the socially acceptable time to get out and wait for the girl you've got an agreement like this with?

Before he can decide, he sees someone. They're in jeans and a jacket, red Chucks and hair lifting up in the breeze.

Without thinking about it too hard, he opens the door and hops out, slamming it a little too hard. The person looks over, catches his mop of hair over the top of the van, and stops walking.

"Eddie?"

He hears you call his name over the sound of his boots crunching on the ground as he rounds the front of the van. He looks over to find you, the person he saw walking over, looking at him with your hand at your brow, blocking the sun.

You're pretty – really pretty. He still doesn't recognise you, but he has decided that's surely for the best.

You don't recognise him, either, but he's hot. He's not what you expected; truthfully, you really had expected someone older, lying about their age to get in your pants, someone you'd have to turn down in this very public space, going back to your apartment alone and unsatisfied. This is not what you had in mind at all, but you're not mad about it.

As he comes towards you, you watch the way he walks, chest-first like he's exactly where he should be. His hair's long and a bit wild but it matches his style – ringer tee, messy black jeans, obnoxious denim jacket. He's got his hands in his pockets but when he lifts one out to wave at you awkwardly, you see the rings and know you're a goner.

You wave back, laughing lightly as he nears you. He's taller than you so you really have to squint to see him against the setting sun.

"Hey," he says softly. His voice is even nicer in person; he does sound older than he is, and he has an air of maturity about him, like he's too sure in himself to be 23, but there's also a boyishness somewhere underneath that endears you.

"Hi," you reply. "You're Eddie, right?"

He looks around himself, head whipping back and forth.

"No, doll," he says, looking at you with a blank face. "I'm Keith."

"Oh," you say, trying to hide the flush in your cheeks and the way your face drops, but then he laughs and reaches out to hold your shoulder.

"Sorry, that was a bad joke." He squeezes. "Yeah, I'm Eddie."

You choose to ignore the overly familiar touch and the way it sends your knees all funny, and instead you laugh, a little awkwardly, and hold out a hand.

"Nice to meet ya," you say, firm.

He looks down at your hand as he drops his own from your shoulder. His eyes move between it and your face, but he shakes it anyway.

"Well?" he asks, and you watch as he smirks, staring you down, his hand still in yours.

"What?"

"Do I look like a serial killer? Scared I'm gonna murder you?"

With those final words he pulls on your hand, bringing you closer to himself. His confidence is only making that funny feeling in your knees worse, but what you don't know is that he's bluffing; before you stands a terrified boy struck dumb by a pretty girl.

"Hm," you hum, dialling up the dramatics to ponder his appearance. You take the chance to scan your eyes up and down his body, taking in the scuffs on his shoes and the pretty silver chain around his neck. From here you can smell weed and cigarette smoke, pretty aftershave and something deeper. "I don't think so."

"Damn," he quips, finally releasing your hand to run his own through his wild mass of hair. "I was really tryin' to look scary."

"You didn't do a very good job," you tell him, laughing softly, and he looks at you with a smile.

"Oh well," he says. "Maybe next time."

Ignoring the way that makes you feel, you take his hand again. It's your turn to pull him, dragging him behind you. The move startles him and he drags his feet for a moment before catching up, refusing to let go of your hand when you try. He swings them between your bodies theatrically as you walk him across the park, through a line of tall oak trees and onto the street on the other side.

"So," he says, drawing out the word. "We goin' to your parents' or somethin'?"

"No," you reply, shaking your head slightly with your eyes on the ground. You drop his hand and stuff yours back in your pocket. "I have an apartment, up by Main Street. This's just a shortcut."

"Oh."

You don't say much more after that. The walk is short; you were right, this is a shortcut to Main Street, one even he didn’t know about. It takes you past Steve's house, and Eddie prays he doesn't happen to be looking out the window at this precise moment.

You live above the pharmacy. You scramble with the lock for a moment, so he stands behind you, bouncing on the balls of his feet and looking around; it's quiet, the usual lull of a Sunday evening, the sun lower than before. He looks at the back of your hair and the way the light catches in it, hears the low curses under your breath as you struggle with the door. And then it's open, and you're inside in the dark, and he has to bring himself back down to Earth.

Your apartment is small. Behind the door there's a narrow staircase, and at the top another door. It brings him into your living space, which is cramped but clearly well-loved. You offer him a drink and step into the kitchen when he says yes.

He lets his eyes pass over the room. The ceiling is low, reminiscent of his own home, though the walls are more solid than the trailer. They're painted a muted, pale blue, a colour he's sure you didn't choose because you've covered as much of them as you can in things: paintings, framed photographs, postcards. The furniture is more to your taste, he assumes. It's all soft, rich greens and pinks.

You bring him a beer as he sits on the couch, sinks into the cushions, toes off his boots.

"Thanks," he says as you pass him the bottle and take a swig of your own. You take your own shoes off and leave them by the door, hanging your jacket on a hook there too.

"So," you begin, padding back over to him and sitting on the opposite end of the couch. "I don't know how this works."

"Well," he says, turning to you with one arm up on the back cushions, "I can talk you through it, but I need t'know where you're at."

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, how far have you gone before? How far do you want to go today?"

"Uh-" You shuffle, squirming into the couch, clearly looking for the right words. "I've never… This is as far as I've ever got."

He breathes a gasp though he's trying to hide it, trying to stick to the agreement of judgement-free. "You've never been kissed?"

You just shake your head and the way your face creases, brows turned down, makes him ache.

"Okay."

"And I want to go all the way," you say quickly, all in one breath, finding your words. "Not too far, no extra shit, like, kinky shit, but the standard."

"O-kay," he says again, smiling this time. "So you know it's not as easy as… As in and out, right?"

"Yes," you spit. He flinches. "Sorry, it's just… It's hard not to feel a bit, like, insecure about all of this. Makes me a bit defensive, I guess."

"It's okay," he soothes, and his tone really does make you feel better. "No judgement here. I'm not new to sex, but I'm just as new to this whole… situation as you are."

"Okay," you sigh.

"Why don't we just chat for a bit? I'm not in a rush if you're not."

"Yeah," you agree. Eddie is easy, you're finding; no dancing around the point, but you feel you're being handled gently. Exactly what you want.

"So did you grow up here?"

Okay, so maybe the 'chatting' suggestion was a bit of a façade for the fact that Eddie has found himself fascinated by you, even in the short time he's known you. Sure, it's only been ten minutes if you're not counting the phone call, but there's something about you that piques his interest. And, if he's honest, he's not sure why he wouldn't recognise someone his own age in Hawkins.

"No, no," you say, leaning over to put your beer on the table. You wipe your mouth quickly with the back of your hand. "I'm from Illinois."

"Why are you here then?" He takes your que and puts his own beer down too, deciding that being intoxicated probably isn't the best idea.

"I dunno," you say, sighing again. Your shoulders go lax as you let yourself sink backwards and look up at the ceiling. "I wanted to go somewhere new, but not somewhere big. And the middle school here was hiring a tech assistant, so I applied."

"And you got the job?"

"Uh-huh. I start in September, figured I'd just move here early, try to find my feet."

"How's that going?"

"Alright, mister questions." You laugh as you say this and sit up, looking at him again with a smile. "It's going okay so far. People are friendlier here, but I haven't exactly found my people yet."

He hums, nodding, and you say, "My turn."

He looks up at you. "Do your worst."

"Did you grow up here?"

"Kind of. Somewhere near here, til I was eleven."

"Why'd you move here?"

"Hah." He goes all rigid and awkward at your question, shrugging his jacket off with his eyes on the ground. You take note of the ink you can see crawling up to his neck under the collar of his shirt. There's something else there, too; something pale and stretched, like a scar.

"It's complicated." That's the answer he settles on, keeping his cards close to his chest. "But I moved in with my uncle when I was in middle school. Been here since then."

"Is that why you're still here? Your uncle?"

"Kind of, but that's also complicated."

"Wow, okay, is everything complicated with you?"

"It doesn't have to be," he says. It throws you for a loop, the way his voice has dropped, fried and kind of… sexy?

You find him looking at you, and suddenly he feels really close. You feel this urge to climb out of yourself, away from this situation that isn't for you; it's never for you. No one has ever wanted to get this close.

"You okay?" he asks, his friendly tone back.

You're grateful he seems to be able to read you so quickly.

"Yeah, sorry."

"It's okay. If you want to, y'know, stop this at any point, just let me know, okay?"

"We haven't even-"

"Will you?" he presses.

"Yes," you promise him. He looks back at you like he's waiting, yearning for something and you don't quite know what.

"Can I ask you something?" he says.

"Mm-hmm."

"Why are you so far away right now?"

He's gone soft, leaning forward toward you, his arm still up on the back of the couch. Your eyes flicker to his fingers and the rings on them, the way they're sparkling slightly in the dipping sun coming through the window.

It fills your mouth with glue. The combination of his proximity and the question leaves you breathless.

"I just…" he continues. "You're hiding from me over there."

He's got a sticky smirk on his face, like he knows the answer and knows you don't want to tell him. He shuffles forward ever so slightly, letting you breach into his space if you want to.

You do, you really, really do – he's a kind stranger, doing a kind thing for you, even if it is a bit odd. You want nothing more than to relinquish yourself to him, and yet you can't.

There's a momentary staring contest between the two of you. The couch feels miles long and yet he's closing in. You feel suffocated.

"I'm gonna come to you," he says after a minute. "Is that okay?"

All you can do is nod at him. It's like your body's on fire, affronted at the idea of being touched by him and yet harbouring some primal urge, deep under the surface, to let him do it anyway.

He pushes his jacket onto the floor with his elbow as he moves himself down the couch toward you. Your eyes follow his arms and the way they stretch, and then the way one of them lifts. He plants his hand firmly on your knee and it burns through the denim of your jeans. You can't tear your eyes from it, staring blankly at his fingers, the way the tendons flex when he squeezes.

"We don't have to do anythin' you don't wanna do, okay?" he tells you. He's watching you, how you're watching his hand, how your hair still lights up in the sun. You're sweet, and pretty, and most of all he longs to know more.

"I'm gonna talk you through it," he continues, "kinda like a teacher, if that's what you want."

When you don't reply, he calls your name softly, and says, "Is that what you want?"

You look up at him and nod again.

"I need to hear it, sweets."

You tell him yes, that is what I want, trying desperately to keep your voice as level as possible, not letting on that it kills you every time he uses a petname like that.

His fingers dance up your thigh and back down to your knee, a repeating pattern that sends you dizzier the closer he gets to you.

"Eddie?"

His hand stills and he looks at you.

"Yeah?"

When he responds, you feel his breath on your face. He's close enough, now; you can really look at him, at the crow's feet by his eyes, the freckles across his cheek, the bend in the bridge of his nose that looks like maybe he broke it once. His eyes are really pretty, browned sugar and syrup, flitting around as he tries to read you.

"I've never been this close to anyone before."

He's watching your eyes as they move over his face, admiring the slight sense of awe in them.

"That's okay."

There's a sudden absence on your leg where his hand leaves it and it aches, like the bone is realigning. You swallow a whine and close your eyes when his hand finds your cheek.

"I'm gonna kiss you now," he whispers. "That okay?"

You nod again and he lets the pads of his fingers smooth backwards into your hair where they take root, his thumb beside your eye. You feel him pull you in and his breath on your nose and then the strange sensation of his lips.

It's new but not unwelcome. He's soft with it, light as anything and quicker even, gone before you really know it's happened. Some kind of sudden urge takes over, though, because you don't like how quick it was, so you chase him. You plant your lips back on his, firmer than he had, your nose nudging his as you get the angle right. This one's longer and it startles him; you have to pull back when he starts laughing.

"Alright, alright, slow down," he says as you sit back, deflated. "You liked that, huh?"

You nod, giddy, desperate to feel it again.

"Can I show you somethin'?" His hand is on your neck now, burning its fires once more, and you can barely concentrate on him.

"Yeah," you breathe, a sigh of relief as he comes closer again. But as you close your eyes, expecting his mouth on yours, you can't help the whine that escapes when he misses, landing beside it. You feel him chuckle, a puff of air out of his nose, before he dots more kisses along your jaw. It feels nice, gentle and slow, like he's scared to break you if he goes too fast or comes on too strong.

The whine, lingering in your throat, moulds into something like a sigh – or even a moan – when he makes it onto the column of your throat. You swear you feel his teeth graze the skin there, lips following them over your pulse. His kisses turn hotter, heavier, and you can't help the way you keen into him. Without thinking about it, you paw at his shoulders and let your back arch as you breathe thick pants into the air of your living room.

When he pulls back again, you whine his name, gripping tighter where you've pulled his shirt into your fists. He laughs at you, head tipped back, as he smooths his hands up and down your arms; the gentle touch makes you relax and your hands unfurl.

"Good, huh?" His words are viscous, thick with want, but he daren't go too fast.

"Mm-hmm," you agree, nodding, breathing quick. Now that he's stopped, you have time to consider that, actually, you might be a bit overwhelmed; without thinking about it you sit back, returning to your comfortable distance by the arm of the couch, watching as his face falls.

"Sure you're okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, yeah, I just-"

"Yeah, take a second."

"Mm-hmm, just need a minute."

You watch him stiffen, awkward in the wake of the moment, and take the chance to admire him a bit more until you sense his eyes are back on you, and suddenly you feel very small.

"You alright?"

You nod, looking back at him, finding his face all soft and concerned, turned down so it makes you twinge.

"You're being so nice to me," you say. It comes out more as a breath, a string of words tied together with insecurity, all in the same exhale. You're not even sure you said it at all, but his face twists into something like shock.

"What do you mean?"

You sigh. "I dunno, I… You're just being very… kind. Are you always like this?"

He seems taken aback by the question. His hands are in his lap where his left fingers toy with the rings on his right. He looks away from you to stare instead at the beer on the table and the drop of condensation running a race down the neck of the bottle.

"You've really never done this before, huh?" he asks you, and now it's your turn to be taken aback.

"I'm not lying, if that's what you're getting at," you say with perhaps a bit too much venom.

"No," he responds, stern. "I'm just… Finding it hard to believe. I'm sure it's true," he says quickly when you open your mouth to fire something quick at him again, "like, I know you're not lying, but it's so surprising."

"How so?"

He sighs this time. He twists in his seat to face you, bringing one leg up under himself, the other dangling off the edge of your couch. "I'm gonna be honest with you right now, if that's okay."

"Okay."

"'Cause I feel like that's the best way to do this whole… thing, right? Nothin' in it for you, really, if we're not honest, or whatever…"

For the first time since you met him in the park, he's showing his nerves. It gets him all wound up, stumbling through sentences like the words are quicker than he can keep up with. It's endearing, really; nicer in some ways than confidence.

"When I saw that ad it obviously caught my eye, I mean, I called, but I just didn't know what to expect, obviously, and you're… Well, you're… normal? So far, anyway." He huffs the last three words out in a laugh, but you don't return it.

"What does that mean?"

"I just think I expected someone who puts an ad like that in the paper to be weirder, or something."

Your gut twists. Red flares of anger lick up your insides, popping and wheezing in your throat.

"What the fuck, dude?"

You stand, backing away, feeling that familiar creeping isolation; distance, walls up, get away. His face has dropped to something wider, fear in his big stupid brown eyes and mouth agape.

"I didn't-"

"I'm not weird for being a virgin. And just because you think I'm 'normal' doesn't mean this-" you gesture between the two of you with both hands, "-should be surprising."

"No, shit, sorry," he pants, desperation oozing, "fuck."

"I think you should go," you finally say. Your arms are across your middle, hands gripping your forearms. You don't dare look at him, even when he says nothing.

You flinch when you feel him come nearer. He steps over the threadbare rug on your floor and over to the corner where you've parked yourself.

He calls your name and you despise the way you soften at the sound of it.

"I'm gonna touch you, 's'that okay?"

You scoff, turning away from him.

"Stop fucking patronising me, Eddie."

"I'm not patronising you. You wanted me to talk you through it."

"Yeah, that. Not this."

"This is part of that."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"Well this isn't getting me very turned on," you spit, turning back to look at him, your arms still crossed over your chest and the rising fire of anger flares when you find that cocky smirk on his face.

"Will you come sit down with me? Please?"

His hands are hovering awkwardly between the two of you, forbidden to come any closer but refusing to give up completely. You offer him an olive branch, dropping your own arms and taking his hand in yours.

He walks you back to the couch and sits beside you, turning your hand over in his on his lap. You both watch it, the way his thumb grazes your palm, tracing the lines up and over.

"Sex isn't just sex, you know," he says frankly. "Even when it's like this."

"I know," you whisper, eyes transfixed.

"It's about all the emotional shit too, and I'm gettin' the feeling there's a lot of that to get through."

"Mm-hmm." It irks you, the way he seems to know you without really knowing you. "You sound very wise."

He laughs at that, and you find yourself grateful for the reprieve, for the way the tension seems to lift just a little.

"I'm just being honest," he admits through a laugh. And then he turns to look at you, dipping his head to meet your gaze because you won't look up. His gaze on you is oppressive, unfamiliar, but you don't dislike it.

"You're really pretty, you know."

You just look at him.

"Hm?" he tries, dipping even lower to catch your eye properly. "It's true."

"A boy's never called me pretty before," you admit, words too quick for you to call them back. This is dire, this hole you're digging; after all this time, being honest is still so difficult, though it seems to come so easily to him.

"That's a crime" he says. And then he does that thing, the one you've read about in books, daydreamed about, thought about late into the night. He brings his hand to your face and holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, a light pressure but enough to move you to look up at him, sat upright, with your mouth dropped open in shock.

It's just as electric as you'd imagined; more so, even. Two points of contact. Who'd have thought it?

"I'm sorry I said something stupid," he tells you. "It was dumb."

You giggle as his fingers shift across your skin. Soon enough he's holding you in his hand again and you feel yourself leaning into it, again.

"Thank you for apologising," you say. "I think I can forgive it for now."

"Good," he says. And then, more coy, the act dropped for a moment, "Can I kiss you again?"

"Yes, but…"

Just like before, the words stall in your throat.

"You can tell me what you want, you know. It's why I'm here." Christ, his voice is like honey when he's this close to your face.

You pull a long breath in through your nose and close your eyes.

"I have this… fantasy," you begin, and you hear (and feel) him chuckle.

"Go on."

"I guess it's not really a fantasy, just something I've always wanted to try…"

"That's the definition of a fantasy."

"Hey," you scold, opening your eyes and swatting him on the arm softly. "You wanna hear it or not?"

"Sorry, sorry," he says, laughing again. "Continue."

"Can I sit on your lap?"

"Is that it?" he asks, laugh lingering, threatening to fire up the heat in your cheeks.

"Yes," you say pointedly. "I wanna try it."

"Go for it, baby."

He doesn't miss the way you gasp at the nickname; in fact, he smiles, grins almost. He moves his hands down, leaving your face for now so he can hold your waist as you move onto your knees and lift one over him.

It's funny, you think, how hard all of this feels; really, this is a very normal thing for two 23-year-olds to be doing, and yet something within you makes it feel mechanical, intentional. Perhaps you just need practise.

"Okay," he says as you settle, your hips halfway down his thighs. "You gonna get any closer, or am I gonna have to lean over an' break my back?"

"Am I okay to get closer?" you ask, not taking much notice of how your fingers are dancing around his chest, toying lightly with the chain around his neck. Maybe it does come naturally after all.

"'Course you are, here-"

His big hands pull you in by the waist so that you're seated on him, hips to hips. Your faces are closer now, too, so you can admire those lovely crows feet again and the bend of his nose.

"Gonna kiss me, Munson?"

"O-kay," he says, smirking again. "I like the attitude."

"Oh, for fu-"

He shuts you up with a kiss, takes your breath away like they all say in the magazines; this kiss brings the fire up to the hilt, pulls on the smoke and the kindling and sets everything ablaze. His lips move against yours like molten gold, hot and rich and bright, quick but tender all the same. You feel the heat of his stuttering breaths on your cheek and lean inwards, arching your back slightly, until you feel him moan.

It's a sensation you could get used to, for sure. It's fizzy vibrations on your lips, makes them tingle, all electric. And then, before you can really know it's happening, you feel his tongue on yours.

You're not even sure when you opened your mouth for him. But it's there, the new feeling. It feels wetter, less familiar, but it pulls an involuntary moan out of you and you arch your back even more without thinking.

You get into it, into the rhythm, and let your mind wander to the friction between your hips and the pressure of his fingers under your ribs. They're skirting the hem of your top, his ring finger dipping beneath it onto the skin of your waist. And then you think about it too much, take notice of it too acutely, and you're pulling back and panting, looking down at where his hands are.

"All good?" he asks in a voice that's new to you; it's lazy, his words fuzzy, like he's just woken up. You look up at him and his eyes are hooded, lids low, and he's wearing a dopey half-smile.

"Yeah, just… Feeling lots of things," you say; it's all you can think of to explain this.

"That's kinda the point," he reminds you, and then he's doing that thing he showed you earlier, kissing slowly across your jaw and down onto your neck. It feels just as nice the second time; nicer, even, because you're letting him do it and you're letting yourself enjoy it.

His fingers venture upwards, more of them sliding under your top, until he pulls back and says the fateful words you knew would come soon: "Can I take this off?"

His lips are still on your throat, so he doesn't see the way you wince. When you don't reply he comes back up to look at you. You turn away.

"Hey," he coos, one hand leaving its treacherous territory to hold your head again. "What's up?"

You huff. "No one's ever seen me… naked before."

He smiles, which vexes you. "I'm here 'cause I wanna, baby."

The fucking nicknames.

"I know, I just… Can you just-"

You hold his hand in yours and move it away from your skin, hold it in both of yours to keep it away from you. He breathes an apology but you continue.

"This whole thing, me never doing this before or whatever, I think it's probably got a lot to do with me not really liking this-" you look down at yourself as you speak, "-very much."

You see him take this in, how it melts his features and widens his eyes.

"Okay," he finally says. "We can take this slow, yeah? You wearing a bra?"

"Yes, Eddie, I'm wearing a bra."

"So let's start there. Top off first, and you can see how you feel."

"Okay."

You let go of his hand and he takes your shirt in both. You close your eyes as you feel him lift the fabric, bunch it around your breasts, your que to lift your arms. You do it for him and he pulls up, tugs it messily over your head and throws it somewhere across the room.

"Shit," he hisses.

"What?" you say in a panic, worried something somewhere has gone horribly wrong.

"Look at you," he croons. "So pretty."

The insecurity evaporates, coming off you like a heavy mist, as he dips his head to kiss your collar bones and across the swell of flesh beneath. He takes his time, sometimes pulling the skin between his teeth but never for long enough to leave a mark. At some point he nudges you back and reaches over his head to pull his own shirt off; before he commits, he looks at you. You nod.

This is the most flesh-on-flesh you've ever felt before. It's nice; you're both warm, and he hasn't once mentioned the eighteen thousand different flaws you know are on your upper body.

His is covered in ink – pretty, often in swirling patterns and on his arm there are bats. But between them, there's confirmation of your earlier suspicions: he's got scars everywhere.

You trace them with gentle fingers.

"Don't ask," he says, laughing awkwardly.

"Okay."

You lean back in to kiss him. You’re a lot less confident than he is at initiating, but soon enough you get the hang of it, and he lets you. He doesn't take the reins; instead, he gives himself to you, lets you find your feet by yourself.

You attempt to copy him, kissing his jaw and then his neck, and you enjoy the way he sighs and relaxes under your lips.

As you move further down, teeth grazing his collarbone, he says, "you wanna move? Couch isn't exactly ideal."

You finish your work with a peck to the bump of his shoulder and say, "Sure."

There's some awkward shuffling, and standing in your bra and jeans is somehow more vulnerable than sitting on him, but nevertheless you take his hand and lead him through the door to your bedroom.

He doesn't have as much time to take this room in as the last one, because he wants you on the bed more than he cares to admit. When you flick on the bedside lamp, finally acknowledging how dark it's become now the sun's started going down, all he really notices is how warm the room is.

"Here," he says, manoeuvring you as he pleases. "Lay back, yeah?"

You do as he says, sitting facing him and pushing yourself back so you can lay down with your knees up.

And then it happens: one of the many cataclysmic revelations of the evening.

"Good girl."

Again, you gasp, looking up at the ceiling.

"Good?" he asks.

"Really good," you tell him. You haven't really noticed that your hands have laid themselves across your chest, but he can't stop staring.

"That's it, see? Love when you tell me what you like."

One of his hands joins one of yours where it's fidgeting with your bra, and the other smooths down one of your legs, urging you to straighten them. You do, and again he says those fateful words: "Good girl. Gonna take these off, yeah?"

"Wait," you snap, sitting up and letting his hand fall so you can lean back with your weight on yours. "Can we do it together?"

"'Course."

"And can I… Can I undo yours?"

"Shit, sure you can."

You sit up and he takes your hands in his bigger ones, moulding them so you're tracing your fingers down the plain of his chest and stomach. You follow the dips and creases, the taught skin of his scars, and finally reach his belt.

He's mumbling nonsense at you, too caught up in everything to keep up the teacher façade, pinching your fingers between his so you can pull the leather through the buckle and get to his zipper.

When you unzip and brush something hard, he drops his hands and tips his head back in a sigh. It's an unfamiliar feeling under your tentative hands but it's not unknown.

"Wow," you breathe, not really meaning to say it out loud.

"Shit, gotta get these off-" He pulls back from your wanting grasp to shuffle out of his jeans, leaving his boxers in place for now. One step at a time.

"Your turn," he declares, smiling, jeans and socks gone. He reaches over to you again to return the favour, undoing buttons and the zip and his wide hand on your hip urges you to lift off the bed so he can pull the denim down your legs.

There's no turning back now; you can never again wonder what will happen the first time someone sees you (nearly) naked.

You've thought about this before, turned an infinity of possibilities over in your mind, but this was never one of them. Not one of them included a pretty boy, standing before you, just as exposed as you are, pawing at flesh and telling you you're beautiful.

His lips ghost over you, beginning at your shoulder and creeping lower. When he reaches the middle of your chest he looks up at you, the angle a little awkward. You nod.

"What're you doing?" you ask him, moving backwards again as he crowds you.

"I'm gonna take this off," he says, tugging lightly at the band of your bra, bringing himself level with you so he's breathing the words into your ear. "And then I'm gonna eat you out."

He may as well be a fire-breathing dragon. His words claw at your scalp like flames and fill your lungs with heat, pulling a sigh from within. You lean back, lying flat on the sheets, and let him have his way with you.

But he doesn't move, first admiring the way you respond and then waiting, lingering above you, too far away.

"What?" you hiccup, looking at him, confused.

"Need you to tell me this is what you want," he tells you.

"This is what I want," you repeat back to him. And then, taking the plunge, you add, "I want you to eat me out, Eddie."

You relish in his response, the way you can almost see him shiver, bare shoulders twitching and chest deflating with a shuddery exhale.

"Christ, yes, okay."

His fingers inch around your back so you arch it, letting him toy with the clasp of your bra. He gets it undone quicker than you expected, and you can't bring yourself to focus on where it goes once it's off because he's got his mouth back on your skin and now he's biting marks in places that would make your past self blush.

You feel his teeth on the swell of your boobs, first the left and then the right, and the rough pads of his fingers over your nipples.

"Shit," you hiss, and then, "no, shit, don't stop," when he halts for a second.

"Feel good?" he asks, muffled with his teeth grazing the stretch of skin across your ribs.

"Yes, yeah."

Gripping the sheets, you arch again, keening into him, chasing the buzz of his lips and the goosebumps they leave.

His fingers leave them, too, especially when they dance over your sides, that bit that makes you feel hollow if you drift over it the right way.

"Can I take these off?" he asks, lifting his head to look up at you from where he's sunk to his knees. You're staring at the ceiling, too preoccupied to meet his eye, and the sight makes him huff a laugh.

"Yes," you respond too quickly.

As you feel his fingers curl around the elastic, he says, "Okay, you're gonna have to give me a hand, alright? Tell me if it feels okay or if you want me to move. Or if you want me to stop, obviously."

"Yes, yeah, fuck, please Eddie-"

"Alright, alright," he laughs, pulling the material down over your knees and feet. At this rate, your bedroom floor must look like an explosion at the laundromat; dirty laundry everywhere, clothes all over the floor.

You're not sure why you're thinking about the logistics of tidying right now, though it doesn't last long, because the cool air on your core is a shock that jolts every limb.

Although he's wedged between them, you seem to have an instinctual reaction to the sensation of being exposed, your legs trying to close around him. His firm hands pull them apart, his fingers grasping the fat of your thighs, and then his lips.

They're on the softness between your legs first of all, nipping and pulling the skin between his teeth as he moves upwards. And then you feel them, the strange, wet contact. There's a feeling, something you think must be his tongue, licking upwards, before it makes contact with your clit.

The pressure is a thunderbolt to the centre, a shock that sends you arching off the bed with a gasp. Your grasp on the sheets tightens for a moment until you feel the roughness of his hair instead; without thinking, you've moved both hands to claw and pet at the crown of his head, earning a muffled moan when you tug ever so lightly.

He calls your name, pulling back, his words heard through cotton wool ears. "You're sure you haven't done this before?"

"Fuck, yes, Eddie I'm sure," you pant in response, desperate for the sensation of his mouth on you again. He obliges your unspoken craving, licking upwards again before settling comfortably at your clit. His firm hands dig deeper into the flesh of your thighs until one of them doesn’t, and before you can think too hard about it, you feel it just beneath his mouth.

The new feeling of his rough fingers on your cunt sends your eyes rolling back; you can't help but squirm and it's driving him wild, the way you're listening to him, the way you can't help but move, the way you're tugging at him without realising.

The gnawing tightness in your core nosedives when he slips, warm breaths replacing his mouth and fingers. You whine like a petulant child, making a noise you didn't know you could.

"I'm gonna use my fingers," he tells you, the distance between him and your cunt not enough to save you from the maddening huffs of breath as he talks. "Have you ever had anything inside before?"

It's funny, how nervous he sounds despite the fact he's knelt the way he is between your knees. His mouth was just all over you, and yet he's still a boy, turned stuttering by sex talk.

"No," you pant, "no, never."

"Okay, it might hurt, alright? You just gotta tell me to stop and I will."

"Okay," you agree.

He settles back into position, his weight rested on his elbows and his face and hand inching closer. You feel it, the stiffness of a finger, but the feeling is unusual and a little uncomfortable.

"You gotta relax," he tells you. "You overthinkin' it?"

"No," you bite defensively.

"It's okay."

You huff and lie back, dropping your shoulders.

"Do you ever…"

Another sigh.

"Do you ever touch yourself?"

There's a momentary flush of embarrassment, a conditioned response to being asked about this kind of thing, but you're here, in this position, naked, so you may as well be honest.

"Yes."

"Okay, what do you think about? When you do?"

"I, uh…"

"It's okay," he says quickly, "don't tell me. Just- just think about it now, right? Somethin' that turns you on."

Something that turns you on? What's turning you on right now is the handsome guy between your legs. His pretty inked skin, the stretch across his shoulders and the ripples in his back. His wide, firm hands, those obnoxious rings, the way he keeps telling you you're a good girl.

It swims in your mind, the vision of him cooing sweet praises, the fizzling memory of those words in his voice.

"That's it, you got it," you hear him tut, as though he can see inside your mind, read your thoughts. It pulls apart the tension in your core and across your shoulders, and then it's back, that feeling, the warmth and the fire, and you sink deeper into the pool of euphoria.

With one finger already half-way inside, he adds a second, his eyes trained on your face in case it's too much. But it's not; of course it's not. He knows he's good, but he doesn't think he's made a girl this happy in his whole life.

You feel it soon enough: there's a fizzing current that licks up from your cunt and into your gut where it lights your nervous system on fire. It runs laps around your body, pinpricks in your fingertips and behind your ears. You grasp at the sheets again, pulling, pulling, pulling, reaching for whatever you can to keep your body from floating away, because it really feels like that's about to happen; either that or you're going to implode, pulling the room and everything else with you like a black hole, hungry for more.

You barely notice the pants, your whiny moans and the repeated prayers of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, before you're coming apart. He's still going, riding you through it, basking in the sound of his name as it crawls from your mouth. So far he's kept his composure, ignored the searing pain under his boxers, but he doesn't think he'll hold out much longer.

"That's it," he coos, slowing down, rubbing soothing circles into your hip. You're panting, your breath hot and skin even hotter, and you can barely hear him when he speaks. The words carry, though, somehow; his praises of you did so good, and you're driving me wild, and, worst of all with the way it slaps you silly when it comes, I need to be inside you.

You sit up at that, holding yourself up on wobbling elbows to look at him. He's still knelt between your knees, hands resting on them, looking back at you with eyes turned dark and glistening skin. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and it takes you a minute to understand that he's waiting for your answer.

"Right," you breathe. "Yeah, okay." You scramble to sit up and twist yourself so you're lying the right way but he laughs and it makes you go cold.

"Chill out, take a minute, yeah?"

His hand hasn't left you; it's on your ankle now, rubbing those same circles over the bone.

All you can say is, "That was insane."

He laughs again, a softer noise this time, and says, "It was, huh?"

"Yeah." You flop back, head in the pillows and eyes on the ceiling above you, your own fingers tracing up and down your stomach.

He watches you from the floor. You're all flushed, glowing something rosy and sprinkled with dewy sweat. And then he watches your fingers, their absentminded journey up from your belly to the dip between your boobs, and back down. You repeat it over and over, and though it's an innocent, repetitive stroke, it's not helping the pressure between his legs.

"I'm gonna take these off," he tells you, giving your ankle a comforting squeeze and tugging his waistband with his free hand. "That okay?"

It dawns on you, as you look at him, that not only are you lying naked in front of a stranger, but that you are about to see that stranger's dick. A stranger who responded to your stupid ad in the paper, who's agreed to this for some stupid reason, and who is stupid handsome and stupid nice.

"Uh, yeah, okay."

He says your name again and it sounds so pretty when he does, and then he says, "We can stop if you want, you know. You don't have to do anythin' you don't want to."

"No, I want to," you say. "I just… This is a lot."

"Yeah," he says with a smile, that one that drips with charm and tugs at your gut. "But you're all good. Done so well so far."

Your body keens at the praise, your back lifting off the bed and it's then that you notice the feeling of want biting ugly marks into the pit of your stomach. You look at him, and he looks back at you, and all you can feel is a gnawing emptiness, a need to be full.

"Let's do this," you declare, sitting back up on your elbows and watching him with needy eyes. He sees it, the darkness that has settled in your irises, the itchy fidgeting of your hands on your sheets.

"Yes, ma'am."

Slowly, he stands and tugs his underwear down his legs and onto the floor. It all feels very real, now that he's stood before you like this.

He laughs at your wide eyes, trained on the straining erection he just let loose. You've never seen a dick in person before, and to be truthful you're not sure you've ever really seen one in a photograph or a video – the adult section at the rental store isn't exactly somewhere you often find yourself – so you have nothing to compare this to, but objectively it looks quite big.

"Will it fit?" you say before you can stop yourself. It comes out a squeak and makes him laugh yet again.

"Yes," he tells you, "it'll fit. But thanks for the ego boost."

He's on his knees on the bed beside you now, moving towards you until he can use his hands to move your legs apart. He settles himself between them and sits back on his heels, leaving one hand on your left leg and using the other to take one of yours. He intertwines your fingers, squeezes, and pulls you to sit up.

"Here," he says, bringing your hand to sit flat on his ribs. He's controlling his voice as best he can, hoping it doesn't sound as desperate as he feels right now. He can't help but stare at you, at how you're looking at him.

"I'm gonna show you how to touch me, okay?"

"Yeah," you breathe. His hand moves yours down until it reaches patchy hair and then he curls your hand around his dick, his own hand still holding yours.

It's a new feeling, sure, but you're mostly enjoying the short hisses of breath he's letting out. When you move upwards without his help he almost moans, and you decide you'd like to do whatever it takes to make him do it again, and louder.

"Shit, okay, wait. Here-" He brings your hand away and lays it flat, palm up. "Spit."

You look up at him and find his wide brown eyes looking down at you, waiting.

So you spit into your palm, and he brings it back to himself, and moving is easier now.

"Fuck, okay… Yeah, just like that, that's it, shit-"

He drops his hand from yours and leaves you to find your own way, so you copy his pattern of up and down, slowly, twisting your hand as you go.

"Here, move your thumb over the- Fuck-"

You do as he says, perhaps too eager to please, and watch in awe as the muscles in his abdomen tense and he leans forward, resting his weight on one hand planted right beside your hip.

"Okay, okay, that's enough," he says, taking your wrist and pulling you away, ignoring the way you whine.

When he says, "We can worry about me another time," you try to ignore the brief fluttering it elicits deep within your chest somewhere. Dwelling on things said in the heat of this moment isn't fair, you decide; he surely doesn't mean it.

With warm, now familiar hands, he helps you lay back down.

"You got condoms?"

"Oh." You don't, and the truth you're about to tell him is mortifying. "No. They all expired a few months ago."

"That's fine," is all he says, and the fluttery feeling returns when he doesn't ask any follow up questions. No judgement, as promised. "Just wait here."

His hand leaves you at the last possible moment. As he moves off the bed it runs smooth down your leg and over your foot, like he's scared that if he lets go you'll disappear. You watch him hop awkwardly across the room and into your living room, the sight a refreshing injection of humour, helping you relax into the mattress again. He comes back with his jacket in one hand, which he drops on the floor after rummaging in the inside pocket and pulling out a red foil square.

He pulls it open with fingers that you realise are shaking slightly, and you wonder if he's really nervous, and if so, if he's as nervous as you are.

It takes a few seconds but soon enough he's rolled it on, breath stuttering and dry, and then he climbs back to you and his hands return to your body almost as quickly as they left.

He's hovering over you now, his long hair tickling the sides of your face and the tops of your shoulders, all the places the sun hits on hot days. You're too caught up in watching his every move, too keen to really realise what you're saying before you ask: "Will you kiss me again?"

He smiles and dips down wordlessly, letting his lips slip against yours. It brings back the fluttering and the fizzy feeling, the craving for him. As your tongues move as one, you feel his hand by your thigh, and when he pulls back he says, "You ready?"

You nod, and then, remembering what he said earlier, cement it in words: "I'm ready."

"Alright, I'm gonna go slow, okay? It's gonna stretch more than earlier, but you just keep me clued in, yeah?"

"Yeah."

There's a new sensation at your core, of wetness and something rigid. He's moving against your folds, finding no purchase in the remnants of earlier on, but then he nudges your clit and you jolt upwards and that's when he finds what he was searching for.

He nudges in quickly at first, enough to make you whine a pained sound. He matches it with a low grumble, a vibration right by your ear.

"You okay?" he's quick to ask, head rising to look at you.

"Yeah, yeah, just- slow, please."

"I've got you."

He doesn't move for a beat, eyes trained on the scrunch of your nose. He kisses it and feels you relax, so he keeps kissing, quick flashes over your forehead, your temple, your cheek. Each one brings new relief and as your back hits the bed again, he eases himself in a little more.

The stretch is definitely different; more. There's a burn, but it doesn't completely hide the wave of pleasure you get in the fullness.

"Gonna go a bit more," he tells you, and he does just that, going half an inch further, still watching for any sign of discomfort.

When you bring your knees up by his hips, he knows you're past the worst of it. He chants praise, telling you that you're doing so well, taking me so well as he keeps going, all the way until he's seated inside you, up to the hilt. You breathe in a gasp, filling your lungs, realising you'd been holding your breath for too long. And as you open your eyes, you find him staring down at you with concern and something else.

"You good?" he whispers with his face so close you feel the words as they settle on your cheek.

"Yeah."

"Good girl."

He punctuates this with a kiss, and then another, over the hill of your jaw and onto your throat. Your hands claw up his back, pulling him in until you're sure that if he were any closer, you'd fuse into one.

"Okay," he finally says, lips against the peak of your shoulder. "I'm gonna move. I'll go slow at first."

"Okay."

The feeling of him pulling out is new and nice, but it's nothing compared to the opposite. The combination of the two, the repetitive motion he picks up, is something you want to chase forever.

As he moves, he quickens, trying his best to keep his eyes open and attentive; it's difficult, though, when you feel this good.

"Christ, you're so fuckin' tight, shit-"

"Eddie, this feels amazing, uh-"

Your stomach twists into a coil again, quicker this time, and tightens as he picks up the pace. Above you he's all guttural moans and pretty groans, his lips grazing your cheek each time he moves, and soon his thrusts become too much. You're panting his name and he's panting yours, and along with the sound of skin on skin, that's all you can hear until he speaks gravel-churned words into your ear.

"Shit, 'm so close, fuck- Gotta get you there, baby, huh? C'mon, need you to come for me."

His words are joined by sloppy fingers between your bodies. They fumble in the dark, prodding your belly before finding slippery purchase on your clit. Sparks light up your body and all you can do in response is let it arch into him with a yelp of his name.

"You close?" he asks.

"Yes, yeah, shit, yes," you splutter back. It's like a chase, and you're catching up, quickly, quickly, quickly.

All of a sudden there's a white-hot flash that burns every inch of your insides. You tense, your body yawning open for him, wide and wanting; he doesn't relent, thrusts harder than ever, chases you in return as he feels you tighten around him. You release, the coil snapping, and he brings the pace down to see you through to the end.

There's cotton wool in your ears again but you make out his praises: "That's it, that's it, atta girl… C'mon, I've got you, you did so well."

When your breathing turns regular and your eyes ease open, you feel a warm knuckle on your cheek. He's still going slow, rutting in and out of you with ease now, and when you finally look at him he asks, "Gonna keep goin', that okay?"

You nod, throat closed for the time being so you make it as certain a nod as you can muster. His thrusts become quicker again, and the more he speeds up the sloppier he becomes. You feel sensitive, too warm but also too desperate to see, hear, feel him come undone inside you. It's not long until your wish is granted; soon his groans turn to whimpers and whines, and he calls your name as he shudders to a violent halt. It's intoxicating, experiencing this from underneath him; if this is what everyone's been talking about all these years, you understand why.

The room sways and whistles as he rests his weight on you. His breath, right beside your ear, is like a hot, damp rag, pulling at your sticky skin and the thrum of rushing blood. You hear him groan and then the uncomfortable feeling of him pulling out. The bed bounces gently as he huffs and flops down beside you, and, god, you wish so badly that you could keep those flutters under control because his clammy hand finds yours between your bodies and it's nice to feel the affection he's so devoted to giving you.

Sighing, he says, "Shit."

You laugh, scrunching your face.

"Yeah," you agree, "shit."

He squeezes your hand.

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah. Really liked it."

"Okay for your first time?"

"Yeah." You turn onto your side to face him, looking up at his face. There are a few curls stuck to his pretty pink face, and you admire the bob of his throat as he swallows and the squeeze of his hand in yours.

"You're really pretty," you tell him. You're not sure if this is the post-O haze the magazines talk about, or if it's some kind of clarity, or if it's just that you have this boy in the palm of your hand and you suddenly can't bear the thought of letting him go. Instead you want to plant anchors, heavy lines that will keep him right where he is.

He turns his head to look at you and you see him flush even more.

"So are you," he whispers, with another squeeze and a kiss to your forehead.

There are a few minutes of quiet after that. The light outside is gone for good, so he's glowing a low golden in the light of your bedside lamp. He kisses you again with a fondness that surely shouldn't come with this exchange, which you had rationalised as just that: a transaction, a mutual agreement to get something done.

You see him open his mouth, as if to speak, but close it again, so you reach a tentative hand up and brush some hair from his eyes and trace your knuckle down his temple, urging him.

"My friends," he begins, hesitant, "they're having a party, next weekend. Steve, he only lives round the corner, we passed his house on the way here... You wouldn't wanna come, would you?"

"With you?" you whisper into the fizzy darkness.

"Yeah." He smiles, eyes fluttering shut under your sweeping fingers. "With me."

"Is it a date?"

"It can be, if you want. Or we can just, y'know, go as friends, or whatever."

"No one's ever asked me on a date before."

He smiles, and it's soft and curled with an affectionate pity; one that says I'm sorry, that's not fair, it's nothing to do with you.

"Well, wanna come?"

"I'd love to."

He pulls your hand up and brings it to his mouth, where he kisses your knuckles. Goosebumps raise across your thighs and arms, and you realise you're cold.

He seems to sense your discomfort because you feel him shift beside you. He pulls you up with him and helps you climb off the bed on wobbly legs.

"I should pee," you tell him, heeding the warnings of girlfriends past.

"You should," he says, a little deflated.

You don't move, though. To move would be to acknowledge the end – the end of the transaction, of the favour. It's not something you want.

"I, uh," you begin, stumbling, "Don't- Do you want-"

"I can go now, if you want-"

"No, no, it's okay, I mean, you can go if you want, that's fine, I just-"

Your eyes are darting all over the carpet, skimming discarded clothes, so you don't notice him reach up until he's touching your face, holding it in his palm.

"I'll stay, if you want me to."

"Yes, please."

He smiles at you, sticky with fondness and you can't help but smile back.

"I'm gonna shower," you tell him, leaning further into his grasp.

"I'll be here."

"Munson! You made it!"

In the middle of the busy room, there's a tall guy, broad and burly, like all the jocks you went to high school with. He's startlingly pretty, with golden hair and honeyed skin, a wide, bright smile plastered across his face.

He steps on unsure feet over to Eddie, who is stood partially in front of you; you're cowering behind him, willing the courage to lift you and push you into the arms of strangers. For now, holding his hand will do just fine.

"Hey, Harrington," Eddie greets, meeting him in one of those boyish embraces. You look around, taking in the faces; it's not the level of the high-school parties you used to go to, and definitely not the circus of the frat ones you've sometimes found yourself at, but it's busy enough. Where the guy – Harrington – came from, in the living room, there's a circle of people who are all smiling in your direction.

"Who's this?" The guy is looking at you over Eddie's shoulder.

Eddie tells Steve your name, and then turns to you. "This is Steve."

"Hi," you say to him, smiling, trying your best to hide the cruel nerves.

"Nice t'meet you!" he beams back. It's infectious; your smile turns firm and genuine in return. "Here, come meet the gang."

"C'mon," Eddie whispers to you with a kiss to the crown of your head. He pulls you through the entryway, into the large living room, following Steve. He drops your hand to give and return hugs, saying hello to each person. You stand and watch, unsure of what to do, until one of the girls – the first one Eddie greeted – appears by your side.

"Hey," she says, perhaps a little too close.

"Hi."

"I'm Robin." She sticks her hand out and you shake it clumsily.

Eddie's back, with his hand in yours again, on your other side. He calls her Rob and tells her your name, and then does the same for each person – Nancy, Jonathan, Will, Mike, Max, Lucas, Dustin, El – too many for you to remember tonight, but you have a feeling you'll see them again.

"Hi, guys," you return with a wave.

Everything settles after that. You take a seat next to Eddie on the couch, legs up and over his own, making conversation with Robin who you like a lot. Nancy comes over and introduces herself again and you find you like her, too.

And then Steve appears, having disappeared twenty minutes before. He's a little drunker, and he hands you and Eddie a can each. You take it gratefully and open it, taking a swig.

"So," he begins, sitting on the opposite side of the circle to yourself and Eddie. "You from Hawkins?"

"No," you tell him, and repeat the story you told Eddie.

"Sweet! So how'd you meet?"

You turn your head to look at Eddie and find him having done the same thing. His eyes are wide, just as wide as you're sure yours are.

"Uh," you begin, drawing out the sound to buy yourself time.

"I did her a favour," he says, to your surprise, turning back to look at Steve with a sickly smile. "Just somethin' she'd put in the paper."

"That's so cute," Nancy says from behind you, her words chased by Robin adding a sarcastic, "Adorable."

The conversation moves on after that, and you turn around to Eddie again. He's looking back at you, his face pink and a smile tugging at his mouth. Before you can stop yourselves you're laughing, bursting into happy noises, bent double giggling.

He gives you another kiss, on the cheek this time, and quickly you settle back into conversations. The night is long and for the first time in a long time, it isn't lonely.

Hello! This is SO long - it really did take on a life of its own. I considered splitting it but couldn't find somewhere to do it, so I hope you enjoy this absolute beast nonetheless. I love you!

#ha ha I am sorry!#god it's long #I hope you love it <3 #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson angst #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #eddie fic #eddie x fem!reader #eddie #eddie stranger things

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byuntrash101 · 2 months

Text

𖤐 𝕯𝖆𝖒𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝕾𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙 𖤐

pairing — fem!nun!reader x sin of lust!seonghwa ft. ateez as the other sins

rating — smut | mdni

wc — 13.7k

synopsis — life is dull when you are an immortal being such as seonghwa. every day is the same and you live (or rather, merely exist) through the times crushed by the burden of boredom. until something new comes along in the form of a kind, compassionate and righteous newly ordained nun. and so the sin of lust makes it his personal mission to corrupt the purest of souls: yours.

nsfw tags under the cut

tags — *strap up babes this is a wild one*, a tad of plot, my attempt at humor, heavy religious/blasphemous themes (don't read if you're uncomfy <3), inclusive writing (reader is not physically described), also reader is the embodiment of purity, 20240127 hwa (moodboard here), kinda slow burn kinda vibes, so much tensionnn, mentions of a pxrn magazine, sooo much teasing, hot make out sesh, dom!hwa, also very sly demon!hwa, virgin!reader, supernatural sex, corruption kink (obviously), masturbation (f), oral (f), the (un)holy trinity =teasing, begging, mind breaking), thigh riding, nipple play, clit play, some light impact play (kitty slaps + 1 face slap), breath play, hair pulling, fingering (f), monster cock!hwa, size training, pet names (angel, love, darling, sweetheart), praising, degradation (slut, whore), unprotected sex (don’t recommend), denied and ruined orgasm (f), dumbification, multiple orgasms (f), overstim, an ungodly amount of cum, cumflation, lil breeding kink at the very end

playlist — me and the devil by soap&skin, unholy by sam smith, going to hell by the pretty reckless, smells blood by kensuke ushio, american horror show by snow wife, toc toc toc by zazie

ateez masterlist | navigation

a/n: i had an absolute blast working over my fave fic ever posted. i love it even more now <3

also wanted to say a special thank you to @hwaightme who really helped me pulled through with one <3 ily bai <3333

Seonghwa was bored out of his mind. Like he had been for decades now, even centuries. He couldn’t remember what it was like to feel… well… anything at all really. And after years upon years of vegetating he didn’t care enough to even try anymore. He just laid there, endlessly staring blankly at the emptiness. He tapped his slender finger on his thigh, comfortably set on the bed of dark purple smoke he had materialized out of thin air.

He let out an audible annoyed groan as he was nonchalantly stretching out his long limbs which didn’t fail to catch the attention of the others.

“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked as he was feasting on some delicious meal he poofed out magically. He didn’t even take a second to look up the bucket full of chicken drumsticks, wrapping his greasy fingers around the bone and eyeing the meat like one would their life long partner. But then again, that wasn’t too far from the truth for Yeosang.

“I’m bored” Seonghwa complained, pushing his long silky black hair back on his forehead and choosing to ignore Yeosang’s lack of interest, dragging out the word on his tongue, transmitting his state of utter apathy to the others.

“Why don’t you go up and play with the Humans?” Mingi suggested while checking himself out in the mirror, readjusting his bangs and sliding his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose before striking a pose to himself, remaining completely self absorbed.

Once again, Seonghwa wasn’t getting much attention from his counterparts but he was somewhat used to it when it came to Mingi.

“What’s the point? They are no fun anyways!” Seonghwa sat up straight and crossed his long elegant legs on the cloud of cotton like smoke.

“Why?” Jongho asked, unlike the others he deigned looking in Seonghwa’s direction with somewhat surprised eyes. “You used to love going around and breaking up happy marriages, luring men and women in with your charms… That was always fun!” He said a little sluggishly, but still with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

“Yeah… Maybe it was…” Seonghwa replied. “Two millenniums ago…” Another prolonged sigh. “When everything still felt fresh.” He got up from the comfortable cloud of smoke, pacing the endless void as his heels clacked and echoed with each step. “Now I know that Humans are only self centered vile creatures who only claim to have better morals than us because they are scared of the consequences that inevitably ensue from succumbing to their primal desires. When in fact, all they want is to eat, kill, have sex or not do anything at all. They are nothing short of underdeveloped, unevolved, spineless piles of meat”

“Meat? Where?” Yeosang said, finally lifting his head from the bucket of fried chicken to look around, eyes rounded in panic.

Not a single one of them reacted except Mingi who side eyed him with disdain before returning to more important matters at hand such as swapping the aviator sunglasses for narrower, more rectangular ones.

“That’s not entirely false” Jongho concluded, shrugging, easily giving up on the idea of comforting Seonghwa.

“I mean where’s the fun if you can’t break their minds to give in?” Seonghwa placed both hands on Jongho's shoulders, slightly shaking him while the latter lifelessly swayed back and forth. “What is the point if they don’t resist the call of evil? If you can’t erode their will like a rock made smooth by the incessant beating of the waves of the cruel sea.” Seonghwa huffed in a quiet, defeated voice, letting go of Jongho's shoulders to let his arms hang at his side while the other one stared at him blankly.

“Hm… okay” Jongho said before slipping off Seonghwa's reach to take his place on the fluffy bed of purple smoke, crashing head first onto the soft cloud.

A silence settled for what seemed like a long moment, even for them, immutable creatures to whom the very concept of time couldn't grasp at their permanence.

“Well you never tried with that girl…” Wooyoung said, slithering his way to Seonghwa without a sound. He had been watching the scene unfold from afar up until then. “What was her name already?” He snapped his fingers and looked to the side trying to access his memory. He turned to Mingi for help but he was too busy looking through the mirror, slipping on yet another dangling necklace and smirking, satisfied at the results. Wooyoung then tried his luck with Yeosang but he now had his face buried in a huge bowl of chicken broth, the empty bucket of fried chicken abandoned and slurping up a big mouthful of noodles in a rather unpleasant way. “Jongho?” he called, finally settling for the one that looked almost passed out on the bed of smoke, but still this one wielded the most positive result.

“Y/n” Jongho responded without conviction, still laying flat on the cloud of smoke, eyes growing heavier by the second.

“Yeah! That’s right!” Wooyoung exclaimed. “That girl is unbreakable,” he affirmed. Seonghwa scoffed and threw an unconvinced look to his peer.

“No really! I’ve tried to corrupt her but I really couldn’t”. Wooyoung said, raising his brows and talking loudly to support his point. But that did little to persuade Seonghwa, he was convinced that Wooyoung was just not as good as him at breaking the mortals’ souls. So yes, it was possible that Wooyoung had struggled with that girl. But not him, surely not him.

When Wooyoung saw Seonghwa was not budging his face dropped, and he turned to the others. “Please someone back me up on this one”

“Oh yeaaah… I remember her” Yeosang said, voice cut by various sounds of loud lips smacking and open mouth chewing. “Even I tried!”

Now, that was different. Seonghwa was interested. Most people are quick to indulge themselves when it comes to food. It was, so to speak, the easiest sin of the seven to succumb to. The Humans often say “there’s always room for dessert” and innocently eat a generous slice of cake after devouring a full meal. They don’t even notice Yeosang forcing the big spoon full of buttery sugary goodness into their mouths. They don’t even know Yeosang, himself, made this saying.

“She refused to even do as much as taste the delicious meal I made her sister cook for her even though she was starving… instead she gave it to the homeless man living not far from her apartment.” Yeosang stated with aberration shaking his head in disappointment before plunging right back in the ramyeon bowl.

“Hmmm” Seonghwa scratched his chin, his curiosity for the mysterious righteous girl was piqued.

“One day I tried to make her give in” Jongho chipped in from the dark purple smoke bed, even pushing himself on his elbows to look at the others, to Seonghwa’s surprise. “Made her miss the train and the bus she needed to take to get home after work and conveniently laid a juicy wallet stuffed full of even juicier bills in the gutter. All she had to do was to bend down and get the money to take a taxi to her apartment. But instead she took the money and walked to the police station to report the lost wallet, which was in the opposite direction by the way and then walked back home only to take a shower and leave right after to attend the charity soup kitchen. Anddd… Explaining this made me tired. Please don't talk to me for the next two hundred years, thank you.” Jongho concluded in one single breath before laying back down and turning on his side to nap comfortably.

“Maybe that one can be interesting after all” Seonghwa thought aloud, his pretty face taking on a pensive frown, his sharp brows joining on his forehead.

“Yeah no kidding” Wooyoung added. “And you don’t know the best part yet…” A perfidious and sly smile pulled on his handsome features. “She was just ordained nun.”

Seonghwa’s face turned serious as his eyes snapped back to Wooyoung. All of a sudden the girl went from distraction of the day to possibly the ultimate challenge of corruption Seonghwa has been waiting for god knows how long (and he surely did not use the expression lightly).

“Don’t mess with me, Envy!” Seonghwa spat, suddenly calling Wooyoung by his biblical name, testifying the gravity of his statement.

“I’m not kidding, Lust” Wooyoung mocked Seonghwa’s serious tone by also using his sin name. “She decided the life of material things wasn’t the way to happiness so she devoted herself to a humbler one, gifting her time and belongings to the poor and destitutes while she devoted her body to God. God only…” Wooyoung said, feigning nonchalance while he snaked an arm around Seonghwa’s shoulders. “Look… Here she is” he purred in his neck.

With a flick of his wrist, green smoke emanated from thin air and formed a pierced circle where in the middle the reflection of a girl could be seen. She was quiet, in the very humble room, a single window shone down onto the bed as she knelt at its side, palms joined, retreated into silent prayers.

She’s perfect.

That was Seonghwa’s first thought as an obscene smirk tugged at his mouth, his tongue swiping across his lips making them shiny and wet. He eyed the girl kneeling by the bed as he lowered his chin, one strand of hair falling over the piercing siren eyes. The black and white uniform she was wearing, the habit, couldn’t fool the seasoned eyes of Seonghwa. All the fabric in the world couldn’t hide away the glorious curves of her body, the beautiful arch of her back leading to the roundness of her bottom gently resting on her heels. The holy swells of her chest softly lifting the thick black material of the habit and the simple wooden cross held by humble twine she was wearing around her neck.

Divine.

Was what described her best.

“She’s stunning,” Seonghwa huffed in a soft murmur, mesmerized and captivated by the image Wooyoung was showing him. And he smirked in victory, relishing on the way he had convinced his peer, once again living up to his name and very nature.

“Yeah I know.” Mingi said, finally turning his face away from his reflection to address Seonghwa. “I thought with such a pretty face she’d be easy to convince that she’s above everyone else and just make her a pretentious too-far-up-her-own-ass bitch. But I quickly realized she was a lost cause” he concluded, shrugging and stepping away from the mirror, sitting down next to Jongho, already fast asleep only to materialize another handheld mirror. seconds later.

“Yes…” Seonghwa spoke softly as he stared intensely at the girl. “She just might do.”

***

You were on cleaning duty at the church today after the mass. Even if the church was quite big it didn’t intimidate you. You settled the two buckets of warm soapy water and your floor cloth before tying your hair up in a rather unaesthetic but very practical hairdo and stretched your shoulders before giving yourself a determined little nod.

You started with scrubbing the ancient cobblestone of the old church with soap and a lot of elbow grease. Then you immediately followed up with dusting the chairs, the altar and the numerous effigies.

You diligently washed, dusted, scrubbed, cleaned, polished, until everything was neat and right. Simply happy and content with the idea of being useful to the community. The rhythmic sounds of your hard bristle brush against the pavements were setting the pace of the silence which helped you connect to the spiritual nature of the ancient place of worship.

But as you were tidying the confessional booth you noticed a small piece of colorful paper peeking from underneath the bench lined with worn burgundy red velvet. When your hands reached under the seat and hazardly caught the object you knew it was a magazine from the glossy feeling of the paper underneath your fingertips and when you finally let your eyes fall on it you realized the nature of the magazine.

Porn. A pornographic magazine.

The cover displayed several nude women adopting very suggestive poses, one of them even dangerously leaning her face towards the intimate parts of another one.

The obscene imagery made your heart race and you started to feel dizzy. You sat yourself on the bench and rested the lewd magazine in your lap. You took a deep breath and, very slowly, parted the red curtains to make sure you were alone in the church. Then you opened the magazine and flipped the cover page.

“Oh my… Look at that! She is flipping the pages!” Yeosang exclaimed.

“Oh she’s definitely curious about it,” Mingi laughed, his lips stretching into a satisfied half smile. But Seonghwa was more cautious, he refused to believe it just yet. Something about your body language was not right.

“Shhh” he shushed the others and motioned for them to keep looking through the green smoke.

As your fingers glided across each page. You felt hot in the face with each scene more obscene than the last one, tension building in your neck.

Seonghwa didn’t lose sight of you for a second, his lips curling on his teeth in a vicious smile as your trembling fingers went over every single page, your wide open eyes darting to every corner of each page. He could almost hear your heart thumping in your chest he could almost taste the adrenaline in your blood.

When you came to the end of it and closed out the magazine you sighed, letting your shoulders drop, closing your eyes in relief.

“Well…” you started “nobody left their name in it” you said to yourself, completely unaware the demons were spying on your every move. Not that you expected that anybody would leave their signature in such a piece of literature but still you had to at least try to find the rightful owner before taking actions.

A loud complaint erupted from the demons. All in disbelief. You looked at the magazine, true. But it was not for an impure purpose. It was only in the hopes of finding the name of the true owner and hopefully, returning it back to them. You had no interest in the salacious scenes presented in the glossy pages. The rushing blood to your cheeks wasn’t due to any feeling of arousal or libidinousness. It was only the shame of invading someone’s privacy.

Once again your intentions were completely commendable. Immaculate.

As the demons protested and complained, Seonghwa, on the other hand, stayed completely silent as he watched you bring the magazine to a trash bin without an ounce of regret. He wasn’t disappointed, he was excited. He felt excitement. A feeling so distant and faded that it felt foreign. Seonghwa had forgotten all about this thrill. He didn’t remember how tingles tickled the tip of his cold fingers or how his guts swirled around in frenzy. This feeling was joy. Pure joy. Sweet intoxicating euphoria. And it was all thanks to you.

“I’m gonna have so much fun with you” he whispered to you, as if you could hear him, his eyes glued to the reflection in the pierced circle of deep green smoke, he whispered to the image of the unsuspecting girl discarding the impure magazine. A paltry, too poor of a stratagem to have you yield to the darkness. You, the pious and saintly nun.

***

You never really liked cooking, before you joined the covenant your sister was always the one in the kitchen preparing delicious home cooked meals for the family. But what you did like on the other hand was helping. Usually you cleaned up the kitchen but when your sister was running out of time she would ask you to peel the vegetables or cut them. So naturally cutting the vegetables was not your favorite task around the convent. You liked cleaning and tidying up better. Only because you were more on the active side and you liked how cleaning would make you break up a sweat when the whole monastery needed a dust off but nonetheless what you liked most was to help the community. And knowing the soup you were cooking up with the help of two of your sisters was going to feed everyone was a fulfilling feeling. Well enough to make you happy.

So you were contemplating life cutting off the homegrown zucchinis when Sister Chaeyoung started to giggle. You didn’t pay much attention until Sister Nayeon started to snicker along with her.

You lift your eyes up and the both of them instantly stiffened up and started to act suspicious.

“What are you laughing about you two?” you asked, an amused smile playing on your lips.

“Oh nothing” Nayeon said, hiding something behind her back.

“Come on, I want to laugh too” you said, the smile spreading further on your face, lifting up your cheeks adorably.

You three were the youngest in the convent so you did many duties together, you grew quite close with the girls.

Chaeyoung ripped something from Nayeon’s hand and proudly showed it to you.

“Look at this carrot” she said, puffing an adorable laugh.

It was true the carrot had quite the… interesting shape. First of all it was quite large, abnormally thick for a simple carrot. Homegrown vegetables were never like the perfectly shaped ones you could find at the store and it was definitely the case for this one. It had a slight upward curve and the extremity had a very distinctive shape. It was phallic.

You delicately took the vegetable from the hands of Chaeyoung to examine the orange root closely.

It was almost unnatural how close the resemblance was, like it couldn’t be due to fortuity… The thick tip, the robust and curved upright shaft, the asperities reminiscent of the blood engorged veins, even the small slit at the top… The details were impressive.

“Look look” Mingi exclaimed, nudging Seonghwa in the ribs as he observed you through the green fog. “She looks interested. I think she’s done this time”. He declared self-assured, cocking a single eyebrow. But Seonghwa remained completely silent but a smirk pulled on his lips when he noticed how you were eyeing the forbidden vegetable (no pun intended), how your throat seemed to thickly swallow and how your lip slightly trembled.

It felt so empowering, finally getting to chip away at your strong willed spirit, finally getting lust to creep under your skin. For these long seconds of contemplation, Seonghwa could only imagine the wicked places your mind raced to. But right when he was about to open his mouth and declare victory. You laughed.

Seonghwa’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as this laugh ripped through him, like a dagger through the skin.

You laughed so openly, your head hung back, eyes creased. The laugh was like the rest of you, joyful, clear and pure.

You are only amused by such a coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less. Of course it was funny and you were never the stuck up kind and it felt right to have a bit of lighthearted fun with your younger sisters.

“I guess she’s only laughing at your stupid tricks,” Wooyoung said, his sly smirk mocking Seonghwa’s failure.

“Fuck off Wooyoung” Seonghwa spat as he watched the scene unfold.

The three of you just laughed, enjoying this bonding moment together while the stricter, older sisters and the Mother Superior weren’t there to dim down your childish and silly amusement. It was just some playful, innocent humor to you.

Nothing to shake your faith or virtue.

“Now let’s finish up the soup, girls” you said, setting the amusing carrot on the cutting board. Before chopping it up and tossing the pieces in the big pot.

“Maybe we should have kept it” Chaeyoung whispered with pouty lips. “It could have been useful.”

“Don’t be silly,” you replied with a smile.

Seonghwa felt anger bubbling up in his stomach and rushing through his veins to burn down his chest and neck. As much as he hated to admit it… Wooyoung was right, these stupid tricks were no match for the unwavering righteousness of your mind. These would certainly suffice if it was any other soul but not yours. Not you.

So Seonghwa resolved to resort to drastic measures. Something he hasn’t done for centuries. But something necessary. This anger he felt, the deception upon failing once again. He hadn’t felt that in so long, he felt alive finally. It was ironic how an immortal soul would forget how to feel alive for the simple reason that nothing is a threat to their existence. Their presence is immutable, infinite, certain. Therefore unexciting, monotonous and lifeless.

The negative feelings reminded Seonghwa of a purpose he once had, they reminded him of the stakes that used to be. In a way you reminded Seonghwa what it felt like to feel. You reminded him what it meant to be alive. Him, the unholy and vile Sin of Lust.

***

“You cannot be serious,” Hongjoong exclaimed, rubbing the deep crease between his eyebrows, this conversation was starting to give the Guardian of the Gate a headache.

“I am most certainly serious,” Seonghwa assured. “Now is the best time.”

“Why?” Hongjoong asked. “I’m sorry but I can’t let you through unless you give me a solid explanation.”

“Come on Joongie~” Seonghwa said innocently smiling at him leaning on the smaller man in front of him, wrapping his arms around his waist and tilting his head adorably. “You and I go way back, right?”

“Your ways have no power against me, Lust. You know that.” Hongjoong just looked at him scornfully. “Now if you don’t tell me your plan I’ll shut the gates for the next century.”

“What has this place come to? We used to be able to go and play with humans all day and not get questioned,'' Seonghwa complained, throwing his hands in the air and slipping away from Hongjoong. But the latter didn’t budge. “Fine” Seonghwa spat.

“You see my dear friend, today she’s ovulating. Her body is most likely to respond to the primitive instinct of the survival of the species. Meaning that her spirit is most likely to be weaker.” Seonghwa explained his reasoning.

“But how do you plan on actually interacting with her? You know you won’t be able to have physical contact, you'll go through her like a ghost. Unless she summons you. And I don’t see how or even why she would call your name three times” Wooyoung pointed out, as he was watching the feud from afar.

“I know that I’m not stupid” Seonghwa said with an eyeroll and a sigh. “I won’t need to touch her to break her” he assured.

“But how if she can’t even see you?” Hongjoong yelled, ready to pluck the hair out of his head. Seonghwa was about to become the Guardian's breaking point.

“Hey relax, okay” Seonghwa said, slipping behind the man and gently pinching the muscles of his shoulders. “You are starting to look like San.”

“What did you say about me? “ San yelled from across the empty space, interrupting his card game with Yunho.

“Just play” Yunho instructed with a monotonous fed up tone, pointing his chin towards the deck of cards.

“This game is stupid anyways!!” San screamed before flipping the table over in a loud grunt as the cards flew everywhere, floating gracefully to the ground. Yunho sighed deeply.

“He always does this…” he whispered to himself, getting off the chair and walking to Hongjoong and Seonghwa as Jongho was peacefully snoring close by.

“How can he sleep through this?” Yeosang looked at Jongho in disbelief, as he was stuffing more cheesecake into his mouth. Yunho scoffed.

“How can you eat through this?” Yunho underlined and Yeosang just shrugged before smiling with his mouth still full, earning disgusted grunts and complaints from the others.

“Can we focus for one minute here?” Hongjoong interrupted, desperately trying to get back on track. “How are you going to corrupt her if she can’t see you?”

“Oh but she will see me” Seonghwa smirked.

“Not in the monastery she won’t, not on sacred ground” Wooyoung mocked his overly confident tone.

“It’s true, you know” Yunho chipped in, putting his large palm on Seonghwa’s shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m about to say that but… I think you’re being greedy” Yunho concluded, as Seonghwa whipped his head to him.

“Wow… That’s so out of character for you.”

“Well that should speak volumes about the foolishness of your plan” Yunho shrugged, taking his hand back.

“It’s not foolish because she will see me. For the simple reason that she will invite me in” Seonghwa’s smirk grew wider as silence settled in the unholy space between hell and earth. Wooyoung laughed hysterically, holding his ribs as he wiped off a tear in the corner of his eyes.

“And how will you manage that?” Hongjoong asked with a raised, unimpressed eyebrow.

Just then a chiming sound could be heard in the emptiness. Seonghwa fished out of his pocket a small human device. All in the room looked incredulous As Seonghwa smirked at the small screen illuminating his pretty face.

“Since when did you-” Hongjoong started but Seonghwa simply brought his long pointer finger to his lips and shushed him.

“She’s waiting for me”

***

“A disaster” Mother superior exclaimed as she threw her arms at her side, looking at the flooded basement. “We cannot go to the retreat and leave until the problem is fixed. The humidity can damage the foundations of the monastery. “I’ll stay and sort it out.”

The sisters all let out frustrated sighs.

“You should go Mother” you stepped in. “The sisters need you at the retreat as well as the faithful… I’ll stay and get things in order. You can count on me” you said with a determined nod and a smile, tightly holding the wooden cross on your chest.

As much as you wanted to go. Someone needed to stay, that much was undeniable and the wisdom of the Mother Superior was needed at Lourdes. So it wasn’t without a little sting at the heart that you waved goodbye to a bus full of your friends, your sisters.

You went back in and sighed at the mess. The ancient timber beams were slowly soaking up the stagnant water, the old stones of the walls were being eroded and the humidity was not good news for the cheeses you were maturing, not even mentioning the ruined mushrooms you were about to harvest before the disaster. Of course the boiler was old and rustic but Mother Superior always made sure it was checked annually and repaired when it was needed before any damage could be done. But even the most diligent measures sometimes can’t prevent the unforeseeable hazards of life.

You went back up and searched for a plumber in the local newspaper. Luckily there was an ad for one that was living in town.

Park, plumbing/heating engineering at your service, the flashy ad read.

You looked at the time, it was late afternoon, probably a little too late to take up a new job, but you figured there was still hope he could at least pick up the phone and maybe appoint a day to come have a look at the leakage. You didn’t waste anymore time and dialed the phone number in the ancient and only phone located in the Mother Superior’s office.

As the tone rang you suddenly got nervous. Ever since you joined the convent you didn’t interact much with the outside world except the followers coming to church or the people you were helping. So this upcoming conversation was making you agitated.

“Hello, Park, plumbing and heating engineer, how can I help you?” You are surprised by the voice at the end of the line. You never expected such a smooth, melodic voice to pick up the phone.

“H-Hi! I’m Sister y/n from the Monastery of the Sacred Mission, our basement flooded, we think the boiler possibly needs to be replaced. Is it possible for you to come take a look?”

“Oh! Sorry to hear that. I’m guessing much damage has been done…” his concerned tone somewhat eased your nerves.

“Unfortunately yes”

“I see… I can come right now”

“Really?” you blinked your eyes twice in surprise. “Well that would be marvelous” you said cheerfully “but wouldn’t you be working past hours? I fear there’s quite a lot of work” you ask concerned.

“It’s okay. You help others so much. Now it’s my time to help you” his tone changed, a subtle switch you can’t put into words but the difference sent a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you”

***

“Thank you so much for coming this quickly” you thanked the man as he stood in the impressive frame of the heavy convent door.

You took a step aside to let him in but he just stood before the front steps not moving an inch. You threw him a puzzled look but he just stared back blankly at you. There was a moment of hesitation on his behalf that left you quite perplexed.

“Please come in” you hesitantly said while amicably smiling at the man.

“Thank you” he simply responded, almost sounding relieved.

As soon as he stepped foot in the door frame you felt a cold breeze run on your neck under the habit and shivers run down your spine. Autumn was indeed well advanced now but such cold winds were usually never felt before winter. Of course, you made little of a simple gust of wind.

“Hi. I’m Sister y/n. Nice to meet you” you stuck your hand out to him. He looked down at it and fumbled with the tool boxes but opted for a polite nod instead of a handshake.

“Sorry, I’ve been working all day and my hands are dirty” he laughed nervously “and the name is Seonghwa” he flashed the brightest smile you have ever seen. For a second your heart skipped a beat and a foreign feeling blossomed in your chest. You never expected this unknown plumber to be this handsome.

He had long and shiny raven black hair perfectly framing his face and just as healthy thick eyebrows complimenting the dark, round and benevolent eyes, reminiscent of boba pearls. A long elegant neck, a defined jawline, high cheekbones and tanned olive glossy skin.

His body was cladded in an unbuttoned navy blue overall that let peek out a simple white t-shirt underneath. You could tell the outfit had undergone various difficult jobs as the fabric was thinned out at his knees and had various stains of paints and plaster.

He looked like a kind man. Like the kind of person you would give communion to without confession. The kind of person that just has a good heart. It was that kind of reassuring and warm aura that you felt from him, something that put you at ease right away.

You led him to the faulty boiler.

Right away he got on one knee and started to inspect the recalcitrant piece of machinery.

“Well I’ll leave you to work on your own” you said as you retreated to take your leave. Seonghwa only politely nodded and smiled in your direction before turning his attention back to the problem.

While the plumber was working you put your time to good use and organized the paperwork of the Mother superior. Doing such work was always tedious for her because she wasn’t exactly the organized kind of woman but you were. You knew doing that you would be of great help. Since the task was quite large, it took quite a long time and it’s only when your stomach emitted a loud grumble that you realized the evening was well advanced.

You figured Mr. Park was hungry or at the very least thirsty after working for so long. So you grabbed a metal tray and brought him a set of the specialty sugar cookies the convent was selling along with a generous serving of cold water embellished with a dash of freshly squeezed lemon juice to make sure Mr. Park’s thirst would be thoroughly quenched.

When you passed the archway that was leading to the boiler room your heart nearly stopped beating when your eyes met the working man.

Swiftly you spinned on your feet and hid behind the wall, only peeking an eye out the corner to still be able to witness the novel scene taking place in front of you.

Seonghwa had tightened the sleeves of his blue overalls around his waist and was wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, clearly the labor was not restful. You couldn’t tell if it was from sweat or from the leaking water but his white t-shirt was wet and sticking to his skin, making the fabric lightly translucid. You could guess the dark pinkish color of his nipples and the outline of his well built body underneath. The short sleeves of his t-shirt were rolled up and were tightly hugging his arms while his long fingers were wrapped around a wrench as each twist of his wrist was making the veins of his forearm bulge out.

You loudly gulped down a lump in your throat. Your hands tightly held onto the tray in fear of letting it fall to your feet.

But your misery was far from over because before you could realize it Seonghwa was pulling on his shirt and passing it over his head. Every muscle of his back moving around, contracting and relaxing in a beautiful dance, shining under the golden hour sun seeping through the small single window of the basement. Water and sweat was running down his back and at his flanks, when he turned around, your eyes dashed around his naked upper body. You couldn’t decide where to settle them. His collarbones, his pecs, his abs, the dent at the sides of his abdomen, his (very) low resting overalls…

Your heart was about to give out. You had seen male bodies before, never in real life that was true but you did once or twice on TV or on billboard ads of men’s underwear.

But, never, you felt something like that. That feeling. This tingly feeling budding in the low pit of your stomach, making your guts stir around, making your palms sweaty, making your heart helplessly hammer against your ribs, making your eyes widen as you couldn’t peel them off the naked wet skin of the handsome stranger. This feeling of immoral interest for another person’s body, this longing for somebody else’s touch.

This feeling of Lust.

It was completely foreign to you.

If it wasn’t for Seonghwa you would have chugged the whole carafe of lemony water by yourself because you never felt your throat as dry as it felt right now.

“Look! Look!” San shouted, wrapping a strong hand around Wooyoung’s forearm and making him wince in pain as they both stared at you through the green smoke. “Y/n is giving in!”

“Look at the way she’s staring at him!” Yeosang said, briefly reaching for a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“Wow” Yunho added “She definitely isn’t thinking about church-appropriate things”. Yunho laughed but Mingi scoffed.

“If she likes him, wait till I show my human form. I’m infinitely more good looking than him”

“Not everything’s about you, Mingi” Yunho scolded him.

With trembling hands you settled the metal tray onto the window sill. You poured a glass of water and presented it to Seonghwa.

“Here” you unexpectedly manage to keep your voice calm and steady. “I figured you might be thirsty or hungry.”

“Oh thanks” he said, wrapping his hand around the glass, carefully avoiding touching your hand in the process, probably trying not to get sweat and dirt smeared on you. “I just got done actually”

“Oh wonderful” you exclaimed, maybe a little louder than expected. Maybe eager to get rid of that immoral feeling that was awakened by his presence. Seonghwa cocked an eyebrow and gave you a puzzled look at the unexpected outburst of joy.

“Why? Are you impatient to throw me out?” he smirked, pushing his long and soaked hair back as he took a step closer, doe eyes narrowing, becoming sharp. You did your best to lock your eyes with his, not to let them wander down his still half naked body. Seonghwa didn’t make any effort to cover himself. Your heart seemed to be trying to break through your rib cage to get a chance to beat closer to Seonghwa’s chest.

“No, it’s just that…” you took a step back “you have been working for so long you must be wanting to go back to the comfort of your home” you quickly get back on your feet before smiling politely at him, trying to conceal your uneasiness.

“Why?” he asked tit for tat, taking a step closer again, siren eyes bored deep into yours, trying to lull you in. “No one is waiting for me at home.”

Seonghwa heard the faintest little gasp escape your lips and he knew you were shaken. You, the unwavering nun, the faithful saint. You were at last considering him. Contemplating giving in to the primal and lowly instinct of desire.

Seonghwa sensed it. He saw it in the way you hurriedly licked your dry bottom lip, he saw it in the way your eyes darted between his lips and his eyes, he saw it in the way you stopped backing away from him.

You, y/n, you were giving in to pure sensual need. No love, no sentiment involved. Only desire to feel a complete stranger’s body against yours, only pure, untainted lust.

If only he could touch you. If only he could, it would be so much easier to help you gently fall into the welcoming and serene arms of corruption. But he couldn’t and that was making the whole experiment that much more exciting. He had to use deceit and trickery. Like a siren numbing your mind with a beautiful song.

But if you gave the slightest hint of submitting, if you let your guard down and let him into your heart then he would have won and that was all that mattered. If you tilted your head and you puckered up your lips to kiss him, if you took a step towards him to press your body against his, if your lifted your hand to feel his wet, glistening skin under your fingers, if you did anything to welcome the unholy desire, if you opened yourself to lust, then touching you would have been unnecessary because Seonghwa would have won and you and God would have lost.

And victory was oh so close. So close when he was as near to you as he could. So close when he slowly approached his face to yours. So close when your heart was pumping scorching hot blood through your veins, so close when your mouth started to water, so close when your lips started to quiver, so close when your eyelid started to flutter but…

Again, you stepped back.

“WHAT?!” San shouted.

“No way!!” Yeosang added, staring at your unsuspecting reflection in the green smoke.

Seonghwa’s shoulder dropped along with the satisfied little smirk.

“Thank you for fixing the boiler this quickly, Mr Park” you said, averting your eyes, finally breaking the spell he had casted on you and peeling your eyes off him.

Seonghwa had cried victory too soon. He had counted the chicken eggs before they hatched, he had put the cart before the horse. In other words… he had underestimated you.

He underestimated your will, your faith and your unwavering sense of righteousness. The other Sins had warned him though but he didn’t listen. They told him it was impossible to bend you. All of them had tried before and none succeeded so it was undeniable now that Seonghwa was just going to join them in failure.

“Don’t worry about it” he smiled at you, disappointment peeking behind his shiny brown orbs.

Seonghwa had accepted defeat when you led him back to the door of the convent. He walked away but turned around half way only to see your still body standing straight in the doorframe, perfectly incarnating your strong, unbending mind.

You only politely smiled when you pushed the big heavy door with difficulty, finally closing it in with a loud thud.

“Fuck… I guess Seonghwa failed too…” Yunho stated as he watched you close the door. But Wooyoung looked at you with a knowing grin.

“I’m not so sure…” he said as the smirk tugged further at his lips.

***

When you finally escaped Seonghwa’s taunting eyes, you leaned your back on the sturdy door, your spirit drained, your mind exhausted. You closed your eyes to catch a breath but the only thing you could see was the working man’s godlike figure carved onto your retinas, the translucent white t-shirt clinging to his golden skin, the sweat dripping down his temples and wetting the beautiful long strands of black hair, the bulging veins of his forearms and the dents engraved at both side of his lower stomach. And the more you thought about it, the quicker your breathing got.

You were all alone here… Your sisters and Mother superior were all gone. What wrong could it cause if you gave in just this once? Not that much, right?…. Just this once.

With big strides you walked to the kitchen and handpicked a nicely shaped carrot, almost regretting not listening to Chaeyoung and keeping that other one.

But this one was going to do the trick. It was not too thick and just long enough to help you carry out your shameful business but not too big to actually taint you and strip you of the precious veil of chastity that you managed to keep intact all of these years.

You climbed up the stairs with haste, avoiding the marble eyes of the holy figures represented in the halls only to take refuge in your bedroom.

You slipped out of your shoes and laid on your bed. You didn’t even bother taking the habit off, it wasn’t going to take long anyway, you simply pulled it up.

When you slid off the white panties you realized how soaked you were. You couldn’t believe it. Your whole life you’ve never felt this way, the feeling was overwhelming and needed to be dealt with immediately. Yes, that was what you were doing simply ridding yourself of an impure feeling!

You whipped out the orange root and clumsily rubbed the thinner tip on yourself. The cold sensation took you aback and pulled a small gasp from your lips.

You coated the root with your juices and then you aimed it at your entrance. You slid the carrot inside, it was too thin to hurt in any way but it was well long enough. When you reached the bottom of yourself you couldn’t help but to let out a satisfied grunt at the sensation of the vegetable rubbing against your sensitive spot.

You pulled it back out and slid it back in, this time a little faster. Heat gained over your body as your eyes fluttered close and you recalled the unfairly handsome and devilishly sexy working man.

The muscles of his back, his long slender neck, his collarbones, his beautiful sun kissed skin.

“Aaah” you sigh. “Seonghwa” his name rolled off your tongue so naturally, almost like it was meant to be said like this.

His long and dark wet hair, his plush lips getting close to yours, his warm breath fanning your face.

“Seonghwa” you moaned again, more high pitched this time as your wrist was getting more and more reckless, each time deliciously scrubbing your walls in divine and forbidden pleasure.

The way he looked at you, the way his dark eyes were filled with the same desire you had for him. The way they spoke volumes about the sinful things he wanted to do to you. And God… did you almost let him have his way with you.

You started to clench around the root, each time you pulled it out your walls were eagerly gripping on it, refusing to let it go, so you smashed it back in with force to grant their wish. Your walls quivered around the vegetable, a foreign and unknown euphoria was taking over you and you knew you were done for.

“I’m… ngh… c-cumming” you whispered to yourself as you felt the tightness in your core reach a brand new level. “Seonghwa” you cried out one more time, being only a few back-and-forths away from your sweet release but alas you couldn’t pull it through.

Because without knowing, without realizing, completely unsuspecting, you called his name. You called his name three times. You summoned him.

Purple smoke started to erupt from the corner of the small dimly lit room by the late evening sun. With terror you ripped the vegetable out before you could finish and covered your modesty with the habit you were still wearing.

From the smoke appeared slick black leather chelsea boots resting under a pair of anthracite gray dress pants coated with a shiny silverish finish. As the smoke got thinner you could distinguish a matching cropped blazer with an asymmetrical and deconstructed silver vest underneath that was held together by one single button right under his neck, you could see the soft and glistening golden skin underneath. And finally when the smoke was completely gone you saw his face. The sharp features and the slender slithering body reminiscent of the one of a serpent, eyes just as sharp and presence just as menacing. A face you hadn't known for long but couldn't forget. Seonghwa’s face.

But he looked different. His long bangs weren’t framing his face anymore, instead he had tied the long wavy strands in a high half bun. His aura was also different from when he was wearing the blue and spotted overalls. Now cladded in the revealing ensemble he looked expensive, confident and sensual.

Your jaw practically dropped to the floor when your mind finally wrapped around the information your eyes were transmitting.

“Well well…” Seonghwa stepped closer while you jolted yourself up the bed, your body cornered between the headboard and the wall.

“What are you?” you whispered with trembling lips, heart pounding, adrenaline rushing through your veins, ready to flee if need be.

Seonghwa looked at you, puzzled for a second. Then he laughed, head tilting back. The laugh made the hair in your nape stand. It was unnatural, cold and fundamentally evil.

“Me?” he asked. Right then you felt your body being magically lifted from the soft mattress. You shrieked again, utterly confused while Seonghwa’s magic slammed you against the bare walls of the humble bedroom, the tip of your toes barely scraping the worn out wooden floor.

“Oh my, please pardon my awful manners,” he said in an overly polite tone. “I’m Seonghwa, Cardinal Sin of Lust” he said, bowing respectfully, elegantly bringing his right hand on his chest in a princely manner. “But for you, love…” Seonghwa stepped towards you, taking his time to look at you. He leaned on your ear to whisper.

“I’m a dream come true” his voice was deep, sultry, self-assured. Everything you’d imagine it to be.

A faint gasp escaped your lips as you felt his warm breath on your neck.

You wanted to scream to all heavens, you had brought a demon into the convent. You had desecrated the sacred ground of this place of worship, your home. You led the wolf to the sheeps. But you couldn’t scream, you couldn’t even if your life depended on it.

“W-what do you want?” you managed to push the few words past your teeth. Your voice, perfect opposite of the one of the demon: muted and trembling.

“Just want to finish my business with you” his face stayed right where it was, nestled in the crook of your neck. Lips so close you could feel the heat radiating from them but somehow they were still too far, unable to touch you.

“What business?” you whimpered.

“Darling.” Seonghwa clicked his tongue and shook his head in disapproval. “There’s no point in fighting anymore. Stop playing dumb with me. I know you’re a smart girl.” He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo. “I already won, darling… that very second you decided to give in to the thought of me. That second you closed the big heavy door and thought you escaped my eyes. That very second I had won.” A wicked smirk pulled on his lips. But his words didn’t make any sense to you.

This languish was torture, this state of expectation, of suspense. This proximity. You wished it would just stop. Be it touching you for good or get away finally. Just as if he read your mind he got even closer. Now it wasn’t only his lips taunting the thin skin of your neck, it was his whole body, hovering over yours; but still… Not touching you.

“Sure winning felt good. But you know what feels even better, darling?” You couldn’t bring yourself to formulate words and only whimpered in response.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart” he grinned, relishing on your anguish, placing both of his palms at both sides of your face, trapping your frail figure between his arms and the wall.

“It’s to finally touch you.”

So he finally let himself take a deep dive into you. The plush warm lips crash onto your neck, giving wet sloppy open mouth kisses while you couldn’t help but to tilt your head back giving him more access.

“What a good girl you are” he purred, not taking the time to part his lips from you.

His left hand went to your chin and turned it to make you face him, without much hesitation he planted a wet kiss on your lips, your cute whimpers and gasps were the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss.

The kiss got heated as Seonghwa pried your hesitant mouth open with his long thumb and pushed his tongue inside to breach your lips. His delicious taste spread through your mouth, making your head dizzy. He tasted like candy, like you just took a bite of the juiciest strawberry. Ripe, just in season, absolutely delicious.

You moaned into his mouth and he smirked as his grip around your chin got tighter, he lifted his knee to part your legs and his thigh rubbed against your center through the habit. You couldn’t help but to moan louder, the unsolicited pleasurable friction made you incapable of reciprocating the kiss, your dangling feet nervously giving small kicks in the air.

Seonghwa finally parted from you, allowing you to catch your breath. But he was far from done with you.

“I know you long for more than this, angel” he whistled while his hand went up your thigh, still clothed with the thick black fabric of the habit. “I know you languish for pleasure” his blunt nails went up your arm and you realized you were still holding onto the carrot. He ripped the root from your hand.

“You won’t need this anymore” he said before smashing the poor vegetable on the ground sending millions of orange pieces flying across the room, you flinched once more at the demonstration of strength.

“Mine is much bigger than this. But don’t worry, love, I’ll make you nice and ready for me” he purred before placing both of his strong hands on the habit and just like that with astonishing ease he rips through the black gown. But not only, everything covering you is ripped in two and that also goes for your bra that fell to the ground. With the deafening sound of the fabric ripping you found yourself completely naked in front of the demon apart from the veil on your hair and the rosary beads laying on your chest.

You flinched and your hands flew to cover your nude frame but Seonghwa once again laughed and you felt an irresistible magical force pin your wrists at each side of your face. You sniveled and squirmed trying your hardest to go against the invisible force to hide away from the avid eyes of the demon.

“How cute.” The demon snickered when you failed to fight back. “Sweetheart, you don’t get to hide anything when you look this good” he said in a breath, eyes darting over your naked figure. From your dangling feet, to your thighs tightly pressed together, to your flushed face and to the Rosary beads sitting between your gorgeous breasts, swaying every time you kept trying to break away from the spell pinning you against the wall.

He brought a cold hand to the side of your breast, you couldn’t help but to moan as you felt his soft hand against you, his finger suddenly pinching your sensitive and hardened nipples. You let out a high pitched whimper.

“So sensitive” Seonghwa mocked you before he flicked the sensitive bud. Then he lifted his hand to harshly slap against the innocent lump of flesh, you jumped in surprise at the sensation. The surprise didn’t lie in the sudden surge of pain but rather from the enjoyment you got out of it, the sting sending electricity down your spine to light up your core.

With another faint movement of the head Seonghwa made you open your legs widely. You whimpered and felt tears build up in the corners of your eyes when he finally laid eyes on your most private part. And you realized with dread how wet you were. Soaked. Juices streaming down to your inner thighs making them glisten under his persistent gaze.

“Fuck, sweetheart” he exhaled out one heavy breath. “You got this fucking wet for me?” he said as he crouched down, inching his face dangerously close to your exposed center.

Embarrassment and shame reached an unbearable level, tears finally spilled out of your eyes, wetting your cheeks as you squirmed, trying your best to escape Seonghwa’s spell.

“So here’s the little hole I’m going to split in two” he said as his breath brushed over your wet folds.

You squirmed even harder, somehow feeling Seonghwa’s spell loosen around your wrists and ankles. But when he aimed his pointer finger right on your swollen bundle of nerves, earning a loud scream from you, the sudden pleasure from the perfect amount of pressure he applied on you made you completely immobile. Torn between the need for more of the foreign forbidden joy but also the fear and shame of letting the demon have his way with you, tainting you, taking away your most precious possession: your purity.

“What? Are you not fighting me off anymore?” He started to draw small circles on your bud. Your wetness made it easy for his finger to glide across the small and stiff nub. You moaned a little louder and he started going faster.

“Does it feel good, angel?” his voice went down an octave as pleasure got to your head, making the room spin, luckily you don’t have to stand on your legs.

Seonghwa went even faster when you didn’t reply.

“I said, does it feel good?” his tone was as harsh as his restless teasing of your clit. Hellish circles sending blazing heat to your whole body as you felt the pleasure rising in the deepest part of your core, your walls quivering on themselves.

But Seonghwa slowed down at the worst moment, a wicked smirk pulling on his plump lips, narrowing his piercing siren eyes.

“Good little sluts should answer when asked a question.” His pace was now just fast enough to keep you at your limit, each spasm of your core, testifying of the agonizing muted pleasure he was inflicting on you.

“Answer!” he ordered while he delightfully pressed on your painfully sensitive bundle of nerves.

“YES!! Yes it feels good” you blurted out, panting, sweat pearling between your breasts, giving in to the pressure.

“Good girl” he praised as he finally lifted his hand from your sensitive parts. You sighed in both relief of finally being let off the hook but also in frustration at the displeasing feeling of his denial.

But before you could celebrate or pester he pushed that very same finger inside you. You didn’t know by what ungodly miracle he managed to aim straight at your sensitive spot, but he did, applying divine pressure deep inside you. Your eyes instantly rolled to the back of your head as you felt the will of fighting off slipping through your fingers.

Seonghwa chuckled at your reaction, he was enjoying himself very much. After centuries of boredom he intended to savor every second of your agony.

“Darling, you really are hungry for my fingers, aren’t you? Your slutty little cunt is gripping so tightly” he chuckled again while he pulled his finger back. You hated how right he was. You hated how you felt your walls clench around him, how you felt your own body crave for more of him as soon as his finger slipped out.

But the yearning didn’t last long because he pushed past your entrance again, this time fitting two fingers inside you, taking the time to gently stretch you until his blunt nails reached as deeply as they could.

You let out a moan through gritted teeth, the pleasure making beads of sweat pearl at the sides of your face.

“Fuck! Your virgin little pussy just loves to be stretched out like this, doesn’t it?” He leaned even closer to your sopping center.

Tears continued to run down your cheeks as pleasure rose again. Seonghwa picked up the pace, stretching your walls so deliciously, pumping his two fingers in and out of you, each time he pulled out he ripped a moan out of you. Again, you started to twitch around his fingers and he smirked down on you. Pleasure continuously grew as you made this silent prayer that he would finally take you over the edge, over the barrier of this beautiful and forbidden land that you stayed away from all these years.

But again he slowed down and came to a stop. This time tears of pure frustration ran down your cheeks as you pathetically bucked your hips up trying to fight against Seonghwa’s spell pinning you down the wall.

“Aww.” He cooed in a mocking tone. “Darling, I’m sorry… were you about to cum?” He said while you shot him a death glare. He chuckled at your reddened cheeks and your frowned brows.

His finger swiped across your fold, pressing on the lonely bud once and you instantly dropped the angered look, your eyes drooped at the sensation and you couldn’t help but to grind against him, your womanliness made so eager by his touches.

“Fuck, look at you” he slipped one finger back inside, pumping it very slowly in and out. You bit down on your lip. “Acting so fucking distant only a few minutes ago…” he added a second one as you moaned out in bliss. “When in fact you were craving this… craving me…” he fitted a third one inside your already crowded heat as your moans now mixed with confused sobs. The intense feeling of pain and pleasure blending into a dangerous cocktail.

“Fuckkk” you cursed out, allowing yourself another sin you managed to avoid up until now, which has the demon showing more teeth.

“What a good little slut taking all of my fingers so good” he said as he took his time thoroughly stretching you out, his blunt nails pushing against your sensitive spot, while his face was closing in the distance with your intimate parts. Your eyes fluttered close as the muscles in your neck gave out and you let your head hang back on the wall.

“Look at me” Seonghwa grunted and your eyes snapped back open instantly meeting his dark ones, his irises seemed to go black with perversion.

“Now I’m gonna make you cum” He announced as he picked up the pace once more, you can tell he didn’t intend to stop before it was over. “I want you to never forget this. This feeling you’re about to experience.” His wrist took on a punishing pace as your eyes were locked with his. Pleasure sending radiating heat through your body, chest heaving up and down as you moan out loudly with your jaw hanging open. “Every time you’ll think of me I curse you to feel exactly… like… this”

Seonghwa finally wrapped his mouth around your lonely and eager little clit, flicking his tongue on it as his fingers relentlessly punched your g spot, both sources of pleasure go to your head and your first orgasm finally drops over you like a wave, taking you away with its raging current.

Your cum squirts out of your body, water like fluid rushing out of you and filling Seonghwa’s mouth, drenching his neck and exposed chest in the asymmetrical silver vest. He moaned, lips against yours and sending delicious vibrations into you.

You screamed out as the level of pleasure ripped through you, your walls clenching around Seonghwa and twitching uncontrollably as your whole body shook, still magically pinned down to the wall.

When you finally settled down he slowed down and took his fingers out of you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and licking his fingers clean.

“Hmmm” he hummed contentedly and smacked his lips, seemingly enjoying your taste. “It’s true… Good little sluts, like you, taste much better”.

Seonghwa cut the spell and stood back up, your exhausted body dropping to the floor, your weakened legs unable to support your weight.

Seonghwa had enough of this teasing and had grown impatient. He brushed back the cum-soaked locks of charcoal black hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks, the wet skin of his chest glistening under the silver asymmetrical vest. Your eyes trailed down below the belt you gasped as you saw the outline of what was hidden from your eyes all this time… Even still restricted by the fabric of the shiny gray dress pants, the thickness and the length had your heart racing again.

“I want to feel you around me. Now.” he ordered, in a sultry tone that lifted goosebumps all over your naked skin.

Suddenly your body was magically lifted up again but this time Seonghwa threw you on the bed. The veil was barely hanging onto your hair anymore.

Seonghwa walked to you as he took off the cropped blazer along with the rest of his clothes. You gulped down at the sight of his nude and perfectly sculpted body standing beside you. The glistening chest made wet with sweat and cum, dripping down his abs even down to his groin where you barely even dared to look.

There it was. The Absolute Sin.

Seonghwa’s long, thick, twitching, veiny, hard cock.

You could have screamed at the monstrous thing if you weren’t still in a daze from your first crushing orgasm . It was so thick, so long you couldn’t even begin to imagine how this was about to fit inside you.

Seonghwa chuckled when he caught the panic swimming in your wide eyes. He thrived on this fear. And he knew exactly how it was going to go. And he couldn’t wait. He couldn’t wait to see the very same doe eyes grow heavy with pleasure and look back at him with need when you will inevitably beg him to keep going, to never stop fucking you. Because he broke you once and he intended to do it over and over and over again until you will no longer remember anything but him.

Seonghwa dipped both his knees at your sides, his body weight making yours sink in the soft mattress while he shimmied his way up between your wide open legs.

He rubbed the thick blazing hot tip on your still very sensitive bud while he stared down at the place your two bodies met. You tried not to moan by biting down on your bottom lip.

“Please” you meekly whimpered, his dark eyes shot back to yours.

“Please what?” he slithered between his teeth, smirking.

“Please don’t… do that…” you puffed, as fear crushed your chest. Seonghwa snickered again and brought his hand to very gently and softly brush his thumb over your wet cheeks and lips.

“Darling” his deep voice purred so softly. “You are not under any spell here. You can control this tiny little body of yours. So go ahead” he taunted you as his hand went down from your face to your sensitive nipples. “Go ahead and close your legs.”

What? No… It isn’t possible.

There was no way he was not the one forcing your thighs apart like this. But when you gave it a try, when you attempted to lift your ankle it actually worked. You indeed could move. But… somehow you…. still didn’t.

“Come on show me. Go ahead, pretty” his hand went down again to your stomach. “Close your legs on this poor, aching, desperate….” he flicked his pointer finger on your clit “virgin little pussy”. The sweet sting made you moan out and arch your back instinctively.

Seonghwa waited a few seconds staring down at you with amusement as you didn't move an inch. Your body kept your legs nice and wide for him against your own will.

“You know what?” he took his hand back and you swallowed back a whine and the loss of contact. “Okay, I won’t… if you are still this strong headed after all of this maybe you’re right. You are a pure spirit and I can admit defeat when I have lost.”

The smug look he wore completely gave him away. You knew it was a ruse, a ploy to get to you, to toy with you but you weren’t listening to reason anymore, only your delirious body tortured with vicious need and you just couldn’t risk it. You couldn’t risk him leaving you, not like this.

“NO!” you wailed, extending your hand to him as he was already getting off the bed and on to his feet. “I-…I-… Ok… do it”

Seonghwa’s expression here took a turn. The smug smile was completely wiped off his face, only dark brown and grave eyes looking down on your naked frame.

“Yeah?” he came back to bed and laid over you. He brought his lips close to your ear and he seductively whispered against your neck as your eyes fluttered close. “If you want it, sweetheart. You’ll have to properly beg for it”.

Your eyes snapped open. But Seonghwa only looked dead serious.

“I- I-” you started but Seonghwa lifted his hand to let it slap against your wet cunt. The whacking sound bounced off the bare walls and the stinging pain had you grunting in unsolicited pleasure.

“I said properly. I want to believe you” his voice had nothing of the playful undertone it had a few moments ago. You didn’t think twice, maybe not even at all.

“Please, Seonghwa. I implore you to fuck me. Please fuck and use my slutty virgin cunt as much as you’d like. Please hurt me and rip my virginity away. I want to scream and cry out your name. I want to be yours. I want to forget everything about the good girl I used to be, I want to be your whore. Forget about my soul, just take it with you back to hell.”

Silence fell as a grin played on his lips. It’s not smug or playful, it’s wicked, downright evil.

You were not just begging him. The desperate prose was not just a plea. It was a prayer. You were praying for him to taint you. Begging him to take away your purity like it was nothing but a nuisance to you, discarding it. Seeing you abandon your values and principles was the greatest achievement, a victory so sweet it made Seonghwa lose control. The feeling was intoxicating, blissfully filling his veins and making his evil heart thump. In his infinite existence he had never felt that. And it was all thanks to you.

Suddenly his body was elevated in the air and purple smoke enveloped him again. For a second you were scared that he was actually leaving you but the thought vanished as quick as it appeared when you heard the distinctive shrill sound of the metal scraping against the wall. You looked above your head and you witnessed with dread the crucifix above your bed being slowly turned upside down, engraving the white plaster of the bare walls. The foreboding omen lifted goosebumps off your skin and sent a cold shiver down your spine.

Soon you saw his body peek out as the smoke evaporated. It was still him but he had changed.

Huge wings were open behind his back, covered in raven black lustrous feathers, shining under the moonlight peeking from the window as the dark night was now settled. Two black horns have pierced his skin at each side of his head, pointing upwards, resembling the ones of a spanish bull. His body, somehow, looked even more defined, the muscles of his abs and shoulders seemed to bulge out. He looked strong, ominous, dangerous.

“You have such a way with words” he said as he floated back between your legs and settled his huge cock on your stomach. “Now I’m gonna make all of your wishes come true”. He brushed the tip of his cock, wet with precum, once again on your slick folds. “I've never fucked a mortal in my true form before.” he started, still rubbing against you, the muted pleasure making your brain fuzzy. “I can’t guarantee you’ll come out of this alive”.

But you were already set on it and if you had to die, so be it…

“I don’t care” you whispered as your eyebrows met and you looked back at him with need.

You braced yourself when you felt him finally push himself inside you. You could practically hear your hymen rip in two to make way for his huge cock. The puny little carrot could have never compared to the size of him.

“What a good little slut you are,” he cooed, before grunting as you were gripping around him. “Willing to die for a round of fun on my big cock”.

Sharp throbbing pain ripped through your lower stomach as you frowned and grunted.

“I know…” Seonghwa purred as he leaned over in your ear “I’m big” he said as he finally reached the bottom of you, linking his hips with yours. And he pulled out a lot faster than when he came in. Your eyes rolled back and you crushed the pillow over your mouth to yell in it.

But when he went back in again somehow the ache had lessened and pleasure was slowly taking its place. Soon the pain, as sharp as it was, vanished to become only a vague memory you couldn’t even recall as your mind was too preoccupied by the incommensurable pleasure Seonghwa made you feel.

“Fucking whore” Seonghwa grunted as he mercilessly ramed up your pussy, making it the shape of his cock. “Cheating on God feels good, doesn’t it? Your whorish little cunt can’t resist this fat demon cock, can it?” he growled.

You started twitching once again around him and Seonghwa instantly recognized the familiar clench he felt earlier around his fingers.

“Are you going to cum?” he asked, panting above you.

You couldn’t even process the words you were hearing as your eyes rolled back and your jaw fell open. But you were brought back to your senses when Seonghwa’s big clawed hand slapped your cheek forcefully. The burning pain took you aback and stopped your never ending ascension to pleasure. You whined a complaint and Seonghwa grabbed your face into a strong grip making your lips pout.

“Good little whores have to ask first” he said, still deeply pounding your precious little pussy.

“Pleasepleaseplease… C-can I cum?... F-fuckk… Please” you mumbled as his pace made it hard to hold yourself back.

“No!” he responded sternly. “Not now” he said, smirking evilly. Enjoying this anguish in your eyes as you tried your best to control your body. He brought his hand and pinched hard on your swollen little clit.

“Aaaah” you screamed, arching your back and pressing your head back into the soft mattress.

“You’ll cum when I’ll tell you too” he snickered, looking down at you. And the pleasure kept on building, frustrated tears starting to wet your cheeks again.

“My God please…” you whined, as tears streamed down your face and your pussy clenched around his thick cock. Seonghwa scoffed.

“Sorry but he has left you, darling.” He started to draw circles on your sensitive and aching clit, still maintaining the punishing pace of his cock rearranging your guts, making the rosary beads jump along with your breasts with each powerful thrust. You cry out as it’s becoming nearly impossible to keep yourself from cumming. “He abandoned you to me” he growled, his low voice sending electricity down your core.

“Pleaseeeee” you pleaded once more, desperation oozing out of your broken up voice and finally Seonghwa pronounced the magic words.

“Cum. Cum for me like the godless little whore that you are”

Finally you let go. You let Seonghwa’s skillful hand and monstrous, merciless cock take you down to the hellish pit of lustful sin. Pleasure took over you and clouded your vision, everything came to a blur as you could only concentrate on the throbbing of your cunt around Seonghwa’s thick dick. You moaned out his name in pure agonizing bliss. The orgasm was even longer lasting, even stronger than the one he gave you moments ago. And you knew for a fact now that there was no going back.

The good girl that you were had died, Seonghwa killed her. And you had let him do it without batting an eyelash. But fuck did it feel good. You felt no shame, no regrets, only unholy desire for the demon’s heavenly cock.

Soon the high wore off but Seonghwa didn’t seem to care and kept on pounding you, taking a bruising grip on your parted thighs with both his hands.

“Please” you whimpered again as your poor little pussy might split in two from clenching and throbbing this much right after an earth shattering orgasm. Seonghwa chuckled in between heavy breaths.

“I just came” you cried out, turning into an over-stimulated mess.

“I don’t care” he spat, using you like a fucktoy just like he pleased, after all you had asked him to do so… ‘to fuck and use your slutty virgin cunt as much as he’d like’. The exhausted quivering of your restless pussy started to build up again and before you could even realize it, Seonghwa’s thick cock had you flirting with the edge of the bottomless pleasure pit again.

“Please” you whined “Please stop” you begged him, breast lewdly jumping up and down with each of his brutal thrusts. But he kept on going, growling as his eyebrows met, handsome face contorted in pleasure, biting his lip. Body pressed over yours and full black feathered wings completely concealing you, one of his horns even scraping the wall with one too violent move.

“Pleaseeeee” you whimpered yet again. And suddenly your body was being lifted and flipped over by Seonghwa’s spell. You land on all fours, completely confused but worst of all, completely empty.

“Don’t you get it?” Seonghwa said as he slowly pushed himself back into your soft, warm little throbbing cunt. You moaned as you gladly took him back. “You sold your soul to me. You don’t get to ask for anything anymore. So I’ll fuck you for as long as I see it fit” He said before pushing down on your face, shoving your head into a shamefully submissive position, your ass up in the air, ready to be destroyed by him once more.

His fat cock parted you so deliciously as lewd wet sounds rang to your ears. It was like your once virgin pussy had completely taken the shape of his monstrous dick. Every movement he made ripped a delighted moan out of your lips, you didn’t have the will to fight anymore. You only wanted him and this delectable high he made you feel.

“Fuckkk” you cried out as he started to go faster again, the quiver in your lower stomach making a quick return.

“You’re my thing now.” He ripped the veil of your hair, the last relic of your past self and sent it flying across the room. He grabbed a fistfull of your hair, harshly pulling on it maintaining your face forward but your chin still firmly planted in the mattress, asserting his dominance on your frail figure. “My toy, you hear?” the sting on your scalp added to the full feeling of his cock had you completely fucked out. Your eyes rolled as heat spreaded through you again, your jaw fell open and your tongue slipped out. You were fucked out dumb, completely. Brain nice and thoughtless just from him.

“Yeshhh” you mumbled.

“I’m gonna make you cum again and this time I will fill your dirty little cunt with my cum” The obscene sounds of his balls slapping against your slick folds and clit bounced off the walls.

“Yesshh pwweathe” you replied as your tongue slapped against your chin with each inhuman thrust of his hips deep into you, sending strings of drool on your chin and staining the sheets.

“Today you’re ovulating, you know what it means?”

Your eyes snapped back open.

“I’m gonna force a child into you. You’ll take my seed into your fertile womb and life will sprout inside you” His grip on your hair tightened and you felt him start to twitch inside you.

“You’d like that?” he teases, knowing the answer.

“Yesssshhhhh!!!” you yelled, you were ready for anything if it meant he’d let you cum again.

“Then take it. Take my cum you depraved slut” His second hand left your hips to grab the rosary still around your neck, twisting his wrist to wrap the beads around his fingers and pulling on it while still maintaining his grasp on your hair.

Bloodstream to your brain became restrained and you started to feel dizzy. A deliciously light headed sensation filled your head up as your pussy quivered with a third orgasm. Your hungry cunt squeezed Seonghwa’s thick length as if its life depended on it, demanding every last drop of cum the demon had to offer. You clenched and throbbed around him in pure joyful sin as he took you to the deepest part of this abysmal and cursed pleasure, taking your sanity and everything that was left of the old you to the pits of hell with him.

Seonghwa’s rhythm faltered and he shuddered and grunted in bliss as his throbbing cock gushed out streams after streams of piping hot cum that stained your walls with white, shooting straight up to your womb, assuredly knocking you up in the process.

You yelled and moaned one last time. You were so full of him, belly round and swollen with the ungodly amount of cum Seonghwa gracefully gifted you. You were so unbelievably full that you couldn't help but to let it flow out of you and run down your thighs, no matter how much you clenched to keep it all inside.

You were in heaven. This was pure euphoria. A kind of contentment not any amount of spirituality and virtue could ever give you. The kind of happiness you could only experience when you let go of everything you’ve ever known to throw yourself into the arms of the most pleasurable sin of all.

Lust.

***

The next morning when you woke up at dawn with the chirping birds you felt nauseous and disoriented. You looked around the room and found it immaculate. Your habit was not ripped in two, it was neatly folded on the wooden bedside table along with your veil and underwear. The room was clean and neat: no traces of small pieces of orange carrot anywhere or puddles of cum on the wooden floor. And you were wearing a comfortable full length pyjama gown.

In a flash, disjointed memories came back to you. You remembered the anthracite gray suit, the black bull horns, the raven wings, the defined abs, the devilishly handsome good looks, the tempting smirk and the huge thick angry cock and the immense forbidden pleasure that came along with it.

You sat up and looked behind you hastily, the wall was perfectly smooth, no scrapes of the black horns and most of all the crucifix was perfectly normal, hanging right side up.

You spotted the small, thin, intact carrot next to your pillow and sighed in relief. Yes, you had sinned but you knew if you confessed and prayed hard enough God would forgive you. Afterall, you had never done such a thing and it was shameful and wrong, yes, but they were far greater sins than this one, like selling your soul to the Sin of Lust and bearing his child… You shook your head, chasing away the blurry memory of the nightmare, feeling a weird tingly build up in your lower stomach as you saw flashes of the evil smirks and the huge monstrous-

“It was a dream” you said out loud, sighing, hoping the sound of your own voice would prevent your mind from imagining more of the sinful imagery. “Just a meaningless dream” you told yourself again.

Convinced the soreness between your legs was only due to masturbating for the first time, that the nausea was nothing to worry about and that the spasm inside your belly were benign little cramps.

Seonghwa smirked in victory as he looked at you through the pierced purple smoke. He made it. He broke you beyond repair. He went, won and marked you. And soon he would back to take what you had promised him: an offspring and your soul, body and mind, you.

“See you soon, y/n” he chuckled.

ateez masterlist | navigation

a/n: leave a comment or even a cheeky lil reblog if you liked it <3

taglist: @written-in-flowers @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @skz1-4-3 @atinism @watamotee33 @sanhwalvr @alicedawitchbish @caratsmatic @reeateez @bts-army380 @woohwababes @yoonivjpg @salam2salang @seokqt @hotteokkay @itza-meee @stanredvelvetforstdprotection @meowmeeps @ingloriousbasterdss @roomsofangel @cheynalexilaiho @kyukyustar @seonghwasstar @oddracha @aaa-sia @lol-imtrash2000 @luminouskalopsia @yandere-stories @shocymer @bangchansbackohmygod

#seonghwa #seonghwa smut #ateez #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #park seonghwa #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #seonghwa ateez #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa hard thoughts #seonghwa hard hours #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa imagines #kpop smut #ateez fic #ateez imagines #seonghwa x you #ateez x reader

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unheavenlycreatures · 11 months

Text

Another thing that The Murderbot Diaries makes me think about is the concept of someone's birth being unethical in and of itself, and how to reconcile that with loving and supporting them. Wells touches on it briefly in Rogue Protocol in regards to GoodNightLander and their laws surrounding SecUnits, but while I wouldn't call it one of the main themes, it just kind of weighs uncomfortably in the air-

A SecUnit is made to cause pain, to feel pain, and to be disposed of when it is no longer more valuable than the sum of its parts. It is made sapient so it can feel every ounce of boredom and pain that it is put through. There is an extent to which the creation of a SecUnit is, in and of itself, an act of cruelty by its creator.

Where we're at right now, Murderbot seems to have a rather low view of other SecUnits. It knows what it wants, and it knows who it is, to an extent, but what does it think about a SecUnit's place in society in general? What does it think of in regards to a long term solution? Does it think one exists?

Then, also: Murderbot is an invaluable asset to anyone that it offers its allegiance to. But that then begs the question for Preservation, for PUoMaNT: How do you support, love, and care for a person who has been traumatized by having been brought into the world in the first place? How do you heal the wound that is the crime of your birth?

Then, taking it to its logical conclusion: How do you draft up laws and policies so as to support a person while not condoning the act of their creation? How do you make it clear to the person in question that they are worth of love and care, while also wrestling with whether they should ever have been brought into existence in the first place?

Preservation can make laws establishing constructs as autonomous individuals, but what next, and what will those laws do in regards to the rhetoric surrounding them?

How do you reconcile making space for someone's existence in a utopian society, without saying the thing that you are thinking, which is: In a perfect world, you would never have been created?

And maybe this is just me being deep in the paint in regards to allegory for disability here. As someone who has been in leftist spaces where the existence of disabled individuals in post-capitalist society is a problem that needs to be fixed, as someone who grew up autistic in an anti-vax household, as someone whose existence is often rather inconvenient for the folks planning their jobs in the metaphorical post-capitalist communal homesteads.

I mean, to be certain, I don't have literal guns in my arms, but I am genuinely interested as to how the post-capitalist societies in TMBD intend to handle people whose very existence is, through no fault of their own, antithetical to their values.

#.txt #tmbd #the murderbot diaries #murderbot #secunit #lotta thoughts

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lushlovers · 1 year

Text

Ignored, J Burrow

summary; he's quite the hypocrite

warnings; joe still is an asshole what'd y'all expect, swearing, this is the stupidest argument but i would act like this too fr, the pettiest duo ever ong

word count; 900-ish

notes; ughhh i missed frat!lsu!joey so much omg. one of the few fics being posted as a thank-you for 400 followers! pls someone notice how they react similarly to each other with their actions when frustrated

This year, like the few before, Joe had convinced you to come to both of his frat's formals, for you it was a win-win, getting to dress up all pretty and seeing him all cleaned up in his fancy suit. He kept his arm secured on your hip, and both of you stepped out catching the eyes of everyone in the room, per usual.

Boredom has slowly settled in over the span of the few hours you've been here, staring at your nails and chatting with the extremely energetic girlfriends and dates of his fraternity brothers could only hold your interest for so long. "Can we go up to the room yet?" You mumble, trying not to make your growing impatience too obvious, and leaning into him with a pout present on your pretty face.

"Soon, babe," his response is short, obviously just trying to shut you up. You sigh, clicking your tongue, murmuring under your breath about going to get a drink. He barely has paid any attention to you at all tonight, nor did he say anything about the dress he ditched you to go shopping for alone. He swore up and down that he would take you to the mall, and you'd choose something together, but he opted out at the very last minute, simply venmoing you the cash for it.

It takes a lot out of you just to not scream at him to acknowledge your existence for two damn seconds, but no. Everyone, but you seemed to keep his attention this entire time. Your jaw is set tight as you fish your phone from your purse, finding yourself sitting alone and scrolling on your feed aimlessly as Joe continues to socialize.

Time passes slowly, but midnight's creeping up, you remember you both have a keycard on you which prompts you to slip out of the dining hall completely. As you make your way up to your floor you decide a text will suffice, maybe he'll see it, maybe he won't, and it's not your problem anymore.

angel🌟: i went back up.

Before you thought it couldn't get any worse, he somehow managed to piss you off even further. Read 11:54. May the Lord be on his side, that's one thing he never did to you, he knows exactly how you feel about that, you even went as far as to turn his read receipts off to avoid this feeling.

In the time it takes him to finish doing whatever the hell he's been doing all evening, you'd changed, gotten out of your makeup, and were tucked under the cover tightly. Assuring your back was turned to him as he made his way in and kicked his shoes off, "D'you have fun?" His question is followed by a long beat of silence, but he just assumes you're asleep and says nothing else.

After just a few short minutes of him entering the in-suite, he returns in an old t-shirt and basketball shorts. When he climbs into bed behind you and pulls you in close, you stiffen, making his grasp loosen significantly, "Were you like, intentionally ignoring me all night?" His brows crease and for a minute he just opens his mouth like a fish out of the water as he searches for an actual reason for the lack of interaction between the two of you.

"Not intentionally," he responds quickly to get you to be quiet for what seems to be the hundredth time today. The last thing you want is to be treated like the various girls whose feelings he plays with for his own amusement. Still, after tonight, you're severely lacking the cognitive ability to go back and forth with him tonight.

Your silence catches his attention, making the scrolling he was going on his phone come to a halt, "Are you gonna say anything?" In your head, you're screaming at him about how you're feeling, to say more than two words a sentence to you, but to possibly tick him off you bite your tongue and settle for a smartass reply.

A stifled laugh breaks the tension in the hotel room, followed by a snarky response, "Nothing to say." That does him in. Ironically being treated in the same way he treats others, receiving a taste of his own medicine. He slams his phone down on the bedside table, "I'm talking to you now and you're being short with me," another laugh escapes you at his hypocrisy and simply how childish he's acting right now.

The tone of voice you chose doesn't even change an octave when you decide to speak once more, "Now you know how I feel," you hum, turning over to face the sliding-glass balcony door. His jaw is set tight as he stares daggers into your back and you can feel them burning through your oversized t-shirt. Without saying anything else, he mimics your movements and turns over with his arms crossed over his chest, pouting.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow smut #joe burrow angst #nfl fan fic #nfl #nfl smut

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geckoomoria · 15 days

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Routledge reader x jj 👀

Interpret it however you want but I eat that trope up every time.

also I love ur writing sm 😍

Try again?- jj may bank x rout-ledge reader

babe i love you.

HMMM I WAS ACC THINKING ABT THIS ONE SO U READ MY MIND CUTIE but like i was thinking wb John B having a sister thats a year or two older and jj has this huge crush on her.

low-key wanna make her a lil masc. like car mechanic and a smoker type shit ( shares interests with jj)

sorry this took so long to post , took me a while to think of the right story. AND SORRY ITS SO LONG I JUST REALLT LIKE SETTING THE SCENE.

mentions of blood , fighting , smoking , yelling, abusive home

————————————★ —————————————

Wednesday, June 17th

6:40 pm

THE POGUES DECIDED TO GO FOR A BOAT RIDE hoping to cure their boredom on this hot summer day. 4 of the teenagers decided to test the cool waters , swimming , surfing and fishing.

As the daylight eventually ended and the sun was beginning to set, they all made their way to Twinkie , John b’s van and as fate would have it , it appeared to be broken down in some way.

“man why is it making that weird ass sound?” questions Jj as he keeps trying to turn on the ignition but fails each time.

“you think i know? probably busted somewhere” john b replies looking around for any signs of why the Twinkie wont start.

the van finally starts but it continues making a weird noise , scaring the group into thinking it wont last much longer.

Pope cant take waiting any longer “call AAA or something, if we die in that deathtrap im suing you” Kiara nods in agreement with him.

John B rolls his eyes at his friends antics and pulls out his cellphone “yeah yeah i got something better than AAA”

the three other Pogues share glances in confusion wondering who he’s calling other than car service.

After a few moments talking on the phone with much annoyance from Jj getting close in an attempt to hear , he finally ends the call.

“alright lets head down” he says getting in the drivers seat. “to?” Kiara questions

“Y/n , shes in town and working today. Said she’ll take a look” , Pope and Kiara eyes nearly pop out of their skulls , no idea of John Bs older sister being in town since you travelled for studies and job opportunities a lot.

Jj on the other hand is stunned a little , he remembers you very clearly yet its been years since seeing you.

You were a year older than John B and Jj always had a huge crush on you as a kid.

He even remembers that stupid promise you made him when he was 9 and you were 10. If you weren’t married by 25 , you would marry Jj.

To you it might have seemed like an fun empty promise made to a kid to keep him happy but to Jj? He still held onto that all these years.

every girl he was with , he refused to let it go farther than a hookup because he wanted nothing more than to be with his longtime crush.

Jj finally snapped out of his trance as John B calls his name for the 5th time , making him realize they all already got into the van while he was reminiscing.

He was anxious the whole ride to the mechanic shop , wondering if you’d even remember him let alone his massive crush on you.

The group finally makes their way towards the shop with no one working to be seen. John B calls out your name repeatedly while looking around.

Finally Kiara nudges him to catch his attention on the pair of legs that’s underneath a car. “N/n? that you?” the younger Routledge calls out.

You slide from underneath the car the you were working on , standing up and wiping the oil off of your hands with a rag.

You looked different, you had obviously matured physically and likely mentally.

Obviously you would look different from when you guys were kids , you looked beyond beautiful now.

Jjs eyes were stuck on your figure as you pull john b into a tight hug , giving him a ear pull to tease him while your at it.

oil smeared on your face , your mechanic overalls opened from the top half to drape down the bottom half showing a black halter bikini top that also revealed a belly button piercing , paired with black combat boots.

Your eyes averted to your younger brothers friends recognizing them from whenever you came to visit.

Pope and Kiara basically threw themselves towards you as its been years since they’ve seen you.

You then lastly notice the tall muscular blonde boy with his hat flipped backwards to be quite familiar, staring at you.

You knew exactly who this was.

“is that who i think it is?” you say in a teasing tone , pointing at Jj with a smirk on your face.

“yes its your future husband.” is what Jj swore was gonna come out of his mouth but instead he continued to stare at you , eyes wide.

“oh cmon J, dont tell me you don’t remember me” you asked with a dramatic tone underlying your words. Jj and his friends knew for a FACT he was making an absolute fool of himself right now.

You were always attractive to him but seeing you so… badass made you 10x hotter

He needed to say something in response to you right now or else he’d continue embarrassing himself.

“Y/n?” he questions half heartily as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing ever.

“well i was hoping you’d say the better sibling but that works too” you say causing John B to push your shoulder slightly and earned chuckles from Pope and Kiara.

The silence that follows was deafening , making you all stand there awkwardly as Jj continued to stare at you. His friends were beyond surprised to see Jj of all people be so stunned of a girl.

“so uh you said Twinkie broke down?” you say filling the silence

“yeah keeps making this weird noise , no clue whats going on” your younger brother replies

you grab your tools and slide under John b’s van , tinkering the car while the Pogues wait around.

The four start whisper arguing in hopes of you not hearing:

“what the hell was that??”

“yeah Jj man why are you acting so weird around her?”

“i don- i dont know! i just couldn’t speak alright! i think i have like hemorrhoids!”

“Jj i dont think you know what hemorrhoids are”

“alright spill. whats going on with you and Mrs Routledge over there?”

“its Miss* Routledge actually. Jeez you guys make it sound like im supposed to be having my third child by now when im only a year older” you say from under the van , butting into their not so secret conversation leaving the whole group to stare at Jj who’s gone red in the face.

They decide to stay silent for the rest of the time so Jj doesn’t pop a blood vessel out of embarrassment anytime soon.

around half an hour later , you come out from under the van and wipe your hands again , telling john b to turn on the ignition. It turns on with no apparent problem and hums like a brand new vehicle.

The pogues cheer loudly in victory , you start cleaning up as your shift was coming to an end anyways. The pogues eye each other as you turn your back , all wanting to spend more time with you.

“uh n/n?” calls out Jj as the rest nudge him to talk making you look up at the rest of them , all with puppy like eyes that made you guess they were gonna beg you for something.

“we were uh- gonna go crash a party , yo- you wanna come along?” he says stumbling on his words a little

he was so cute when he was nervous.

you had a feeling none of them were gonna let this go. You sigh in defeat and agree , making them cheer that John b’s “cool ass sister” as they described was coming along.

At the beach party

It had been around an hour since you all arrived, drinking , dancing , smoking weed and hanging out was the main thing you all did.

Jj still hadn’t really held a proper conversation with you , every-time he tried you were catching up with someone else or he’d just get cold feet and chicken out.

He sighed as he sat down to take a smoke on his own by a tree , unaware of your presence above him.

“didn’t know you smoked, y’know its bad for you right” you uttered catching his attention while pulling out a cigarette of your own.

at first he’s stunned that you spoke to him first but figured this was his chance. “whats that then?” he says eyeing the cigarette in your mouth as you lit it

“dont question your elders” blowing out a puff of smoke from your mouth

he laughs “okay granny did you forget that its only by a year” , “still older than ya hon”.

A sound of tranquility fills the air as you two continue smoking , the cold breeze hitting your faces as the party behind you continues.

“im sorry” Jj says sombrely breaking the silence while avoiding eye contact

“for?”

“making things so awkward back there, i was just surprised to see you”

“dont sweat it J , its been a while so i get it. im just glad you remembered me”

“you are?” the blonde boy says facing you now curiously

“i mean yeah , you always were my favourite out of my brothers friends J” you say taking a hit on your cigarette

Jj’s heart sinks a little , right thats all you saw him as , your younger brothers friend.

you take his silence as an odd response, pressing him for more. “what? whats wrong?” you ask

in a bitter quiet tone he mutters “nothin.”

“dont give me that , what did i say?”

“Why cant you see me more than that! why cant you see me!” he outbursts in a much louder tone attracting some glances from people while he stands up

“what are you talking about??” you ask mimicking his stance while putting out your cigarette.

he closes his eyes out of frustration for a second and takes his cap off , running his hands through his blonde shaggy hair.

“im talking about how you don’t remember me liking you , no y’know what loving you!” he spits out in an angry manner

“what? Jj we were kids! why would your crush from years ago matter now!”

“Damn it cause its not from years ago! i still have one. i haven’t forgotten about you at all and you dont even notice me.” he gets in close to you

you stay silent as he attempts to walk away but you grab his shoulder , pulling him back.

“sit.” he obeys defeatedly after hearing the sterness in your tone.

“admit it. its been a while since we’ve been kids and you ARE my brothers best-friend. You really still have feelings for me?”

Jj nods in response as if its the only thing he’s sure of , staring into your eyes.

“then… okay.” He tilts his head slightly confused , you put your hand for him to shake.

“im Y/n Routledge, you’re Jj right?” you grin

He smiles and shakes your hand. This meant a new beginning , a way to start over.

“does this make you a cougar?” he says making you laugh out loud , “dunno how many times i have to say it , im only a year older”

“yes ma’am” he responds making you shove his shoulder causing him to laugh now

The sound of commotion from the beach makes you revert your attention there , everyone was gathering around a fight.

you both stand up and make your way to watch it , you became worried as Kiara , Pope and Sarah Cameron were all screaming.

John B was getting his ass beat by Topper. You wanted to get involved but Jj beat you to it.

He yanked topper by the shirt and punched him, causing him to let go of John B. Kiara and pope running to help him up.

As he was going to throw another punch at the Kook , you grabbed his arm with the intention of not wanting anything bigger to start. “Jj he’s not worth it. lets get out of here”

seeing the look on your face and the rest of the Pogues , he lowered his guard and turned away from Topper as you all walked away.

“Thats right Maybank! should listen to her , dont wanna follow in your Old mans footsteps!”

Crack!

the sound of your fist hits toppers big ass mouth causing blood to gush out.

Everyone stares at you wide eyed. Everyone.

You walk away pissed off and hand bloodied. Jj clearly fighting back a smile “thought he wasn’t worth it?”

“yeah but you are.”

————————————★ —————————————

this was lowkey fun to write especially hitting topper. is it bad i wrote this with fully just the intention of hitting topper😭😭

leave anything in my inbox !!

i love gaining mutuals guys.

I HATE HOW LONG I MAKE DRABBLES BUT I CANT STOP.

also does the colour coding of what characters say bother anyone bc ive been like getting annoyed with the diff colours but it makes seeing which character says what so much easier.

i also just realized all my jj works are always involving a party😭😭 but like its such a him thing , to be partying

#girlblogging #fanfic #obx jj maybank #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank #just girly things #obx fanfiction #obx x reader #john b routledge #jj maybank x routledge!reader #fypシ゚viral #mutuals #foryou #jj maybank x you

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seokmthw · 1 year

Text

give me love | zhang hao

⇢ pairing: zhang hao x reader

⇢ warnings: friends to lovers, college au, slight angst, fluff, explicit language, mentions of alcohol

⇢ word count: 9.06k

⇢ synopsis: you unexpectedly meet someone at a party who was also on sober friend duty, and soon you were desperate for him to give you the same love you felt for him.

⇢ notes: this is one of my most beloved works and i thought it would be really fitting to hao! i know i said in my initial post that i wouldn't typically post lengthy fics, but this one is definitely one of my few exceptions. i hope you enjoy!

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you certainly did not think you would be starting your sophomore year of college at a party your best friend, gyuvin, was throwing in his apartment to “start off the year right.”

yet, here you were.

you’d been long forgotten about the moment a massive influx of people showed up to gyuvin’s front door. it’s not like you really cared, though, because he was definitely the social butterfly of the two of you and you were more than fine being crammed on one of the bean bag chairs in the corner of his living room. it’s not like you didn’t want to watch people drunkenly make out on the couch in front of you, anyway. definitely not.

you’d been nursing the same drink gyuvin handed you five minutes before people began to arrive for the past hour, hoping to god you could find something interesting to look at in the liquid to keep yourself occupied, considering you had been ransacked by boredom the entire time the party had been going on.

truthfully, you wanted to either bash your head into the wall or you wanted to go back to your own apartment and crawl into your bed with your laptop and a show on the television. you would never admit that to gyuvin though, because you knew that he was happy to have you at every party he threw whether he actually spent time with you or not. you didn’t have the heart to leave until you were able to make sure he was in bed and his apartment was semi-picked up after everyone bid their - always slurred, by the way - farewells.

you could have sworn even thinking gyuvin’s name seemed to lure him to you sometimes, because the brunette was calling out your name over the music, a goofy smile on his lips and his arm slung around a boy that you’d never met before. said boy looked extremely uncomfortable as well, and you felt painfully sorry for him as the pair approached you.

“y/n!” gyuvin exclaimed, a small giggle emitting from him. you rose to your feet and practically pried your very wasted best friend off of the poor boy he was clinging onto with an apologetic smile.

“i love you!”

gyuvin crushed you in a hug that made it impossibly hard for you to breathe. you grunted in surprise, patting him on the back, “i love you too, gyu.”

he turned to face the other boy, his smile never leaving his face as he stuck his hand out and said, “this is zhang hao, he’s hanbin’s sober friend, just like you’re mine! i figured you two could sit and talk or something. you always look like you want to die whenever you’re at one of my-” he cut himself off mid-sentence, “oh! hao, this is my best friend, y/n!”

each and every syllable that left gyuvin’s mouth was almost impossible for anyone to make out, but you’d grown so accustomed to how he spoke when he was drunk that you could understand everything he was trying to say. you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at him, slipping out of his arms enough to reach down to your drink that was shoved beside your bean bag chair. you held out the cup to gyuvin and patted him on the shoulder, telling him to search for hanbin and that you would be in the same exact spot if he needed you for anything else.

“i take it you deal with him like this a lot?” the boy finally asked, though you jumped at his words because you had pretty much forgotten he was watching that entire scene unfold in front of him.

you turned to face him, your gaze finally meeting his without a drunk gyuvin between the two of you. you only smiled, “yeah, gotta make sure he doesn’t manage to get himself arrested. or hurt. it really just depends on the night.”

“i feel that one,” he laughed, “hanbin is almost always the exact same way.”

by now you had taken your spot back on the bean bag chair, motioning for zhang hao to inhabit the open one next to it if he wanted to. he sat down next to you, both of you angled in such a way you were able to talk face to face, “i’m surprised we haven’t met yet, to be completely honest. i see hanbin at these parties every time gyuvin hosts one.”

zhang hao nodded, “me too. he drags me to every single one even if i practically beg him not to. he’s a menace.”

you laughed at his choice of words for his friend, “same, but i’m pretty much legally obligated to attend them all otherwise i’ll get my head ripped off. i get ignored the entire time anyway so i’m always stuck here hoping my phone won’t die.”

the awkward beginning of your conversation quickly faded away as you got more comfortable with each other. you learned that zhang hao was majoring in music education with the hopes of being able to work with children across korea and hopefully internationally someday. you’d informed him that you were majoring in film production and hoped to someday take part in filming and editing music videos for groups across the country.

everything flowed so easily between the two of you, from what you hoped to get out of your future careers to what you each thought was arguably the best ben & jerry’s ice cream flavor to whether or not you thought water was wet. your night was pleasantly filled with giggles and newly formed jokes, much different from your typical experience at one of gyuvin’s infamous parties.

you had been talking for so long that you almost didn’t realize how quickly the time was ticking by until the amount of people in the apartment started to lessen and before you knew it, the only people who were left were you, gyuvin, zhang hao, and hanbin. you rose from your seat, grateful to finally be able to stretch your limbs without the fear of tripping someone and getting alcohol spilled all over you. you and the brown haired boy next to you made your way over to your friends who were clinging onto each other for dear life and giggling like no tomorrow. you cleared your throat, “i think it’s time to get you to bed, gyu.”

“but i’m not tired yet,” he pouted, his brows furrowed in annoyance at your sudden demand for him to leave the embrace he was currently engulfed in. you sighed, “come on, dude, it’s three in the morning and i’m tired.”

gyuvin reluctantly detangled himself from hanbin and wrapped his arms around you instead, though this time you accepted him with open arms in hopes of making your time easier. you glanced over at zhang hao, who was struggling just as much as you to even get hanbin out of the house. you couldn’t help the lighthearted laugh, “you guys can stay here tonight if you want.”

visible relief washed over zhang hao, “really?”

“yeah, i think both of them are too out of it to really notice anyway.”

you tilted your head to the side, indicating that gyuvin’s room was just down the hallway. zhang followed in behind you as you pushed the door open, revealing gyuvin’s spotless living space - which was starkly different to the rest of his house - and the plush bed that was shoved up against the wall farthest from you. gyuvin gleefully laughed, bounding toward the mattress with a wide grin as he flopped down onto the comforter and pillows.

you closed your eyes, trying like hell to grip onto the little bit of sanity you had left, and took a deep breath through your nose. gyuvin looked up from his spot on the bed, his bottom lip now jutted out and his eyes glimmering with unshed tears.

“fuck,” you muttered under breath, gaining the attention of zhang hao, who was trying to suppress the grin tugging at his lips and who was having it a lot easier than you were right now. hanbin was practically already asleep while he was standing up.

the universe was almost always kind to you when it came to gyuvin being trashed. he almost always cooperated with you when you tried to get him in bed, albeit he was clingy beyond belief, and he never, ever pitched a fight with you. being eternally grateful for that was something you hoped carried through the wind because if the world hadn’t been so kind, you would be put through hell more often than you would like to be. sometimes your gratitude wasn’t enough.

your biggest pet peeve was when gyuvin cried while he was drunk. it was almost impossible to get him to calm down and he usually wailed at the top of his lungs like a child would after falling off their bike. the look he was giving you now told you everything you needed to know about how the next twenty minutes of your time was going to play out.

you scrambled over to the boy, cupping either side of his cheeks. you were going to try your best to prevent this from happening, “what’s wrong?”

“why don’t you ever have fun at my parties?” his voice quivered.

no, you thought to yourself, please, for the love of all things good, don’t do this to me right now.

“gyu,” you started, “i do have fun at your parties. you’re just never around me enough to see me having fun because you’re with your other friends.”

his lip quivered slightly, and as he blinked, the first tears of the night began rolling down his cheeks, “then how come you always hide in a corner and sulk?”

“because i never had any friends at these parties other than you and hanbin, so i had nobody to talk to,” you see more tears stream down his cheeks. you quickly spat out, “but look! i have a friend now and he’ll be able to keep me company whenever you can’t!”

you threw your arm out toward zhang hao, who gave gyuvin a small wave and a reassuring smile, “i’ll make sure they don’t sulk anymore!”

gyuvin sniffled and wiped at his tears with the sleeve of his sweater, nodding at your words. you pushed some of his hair out of his face and wiped his tears, “are you ready to sleep now?”

“yeah,” he grumbled, pulling the covers back and crawling underneath them, his frown slowly turning into a smile, “i love you, y/n.”

“i love you too. now get some rest, okay?” you waved zhang hao over, who practically drug hanbin to the bed and tucked him in beside gyuvin. the two were asleep the moment their heads hit the pillows.

you breathed a sigh of relief and followed zhang hao back to the main part of the house, making sure to close the door quietly behind you. you could barely hear the chuckle he gave you, “that was a close one, huh?”

you began picking up some of the litter around the couch, “close is an understatement. when he cries it’s the worst.” you shoved the rest of the forgotten cups and various other garbage off to the side with your foot and pulled the couch out, revealing a thin mattress and creaky frame that you had grown accustomed to seeing as gyuvin refused to get a new one. he was attached to it, he would always say, he couldn’t bear the thought of parting with it. you gave zhang hao a look, “this is all we have for sleeping options, sadly.”

“that’s okay,” he reassured you, “it’s better than the floor at least.”

you went to the storage closet by the front door of the apartment and pulled out a pillow and a blanket for each of you, tossing zhang hao his share and making your way over to the bed. exhaustion was starting to catch up to you the more the night drug on, the heaviness you felt in all of your limbs was a telltale sign of that. you made sure to turn off the lamp in the living room before you crawled into the bed next to zhang hao, a blush creeping onto your cheeks out of embarrassment. you had never felt more grateful for the darkness that blanketed gyuvin’s apartment.

as if on cue, zhang hao remarked, “i definitely didn’t think i would be sharing a bed with someone i just met when i agreed to come to this party.”

“i was just about to say the same thing,” you said, “leave it to gyuvin to cause the weirdest things to happen.”

the two of you stayed up for a while longer, talking about anything and everything. you told stories from your high school days and freshman year of college, laughing at each other’s misfortunes and bonding over some of the weirdest experiences you’d had. talking to zhang hao came so naturally to you, it almost felt as if you couldn’t stop. soon, however, sleep was starting to overcome your body.

the last thing you remember was feeling content in the warmth that radiated off the boy next to you.

ii.

“kim gyuvin, i swear to fucking god i’m gonna kill you!” you screeched, scrambling to grab your things off of the table in front of you before anything was soaked in the hot coffee he spilled.

this is most definitely not what you signed up for when you decided to drop by the library to do homework and visit gyuvin on his break at work. there was a coffee shop tucked into the corner of the library, which was where he worked, and he stopped by to bring you a dose of caffeine to help you fly through the many assignments that had bombarded you. he had lost his grip on the coffee cup and somehow managed to practically throw it at you, resulting in your most recent panic and the burning hot liquid to be seeping through the front of your t-shirt.

“y/n, will you calm down?” the boy hissed, “you’re causing people to stare. besides, it’s not even that bad.”

you scowled at him, shaking all of your loose notes in front of his face, “says the one who’s graphic design notes aren’t in jeopardy and the one who didn’t get a single drop of it on him.”

one of the librarians was kind enough to bring you some of the cleaning supplies they had stored in a closet behind the desk. you smiled at her, muttering a quick apology before you attempted to soak up as much of the coffee as you could. gyuvin couldn’t suppress the smile he was adorning and he made sure to take all of your things from the table so they didn’t get harmed by his mess either.

“i don’t think it’s very funny.”

“you’re right, my dear best friend,” gyuvin retorted, “it’s hilarious.”

by now you had finished cleaning up the table, a mound of dripping paper towels now inhabiting your hands. you hurried over to the nearest trash can and let them fall inside of it with a plop, opting to just wipe your hands on your shirt since it was already stained. there wasn’t much more damage that could be done to it anyway.

as you neared your table once more, gyuvin was beginning to walk away from it. he gave a quick hug, “i have to go, my break is over and my boss is going to kill me if i’m late clocking back in again.”

“you owe me a new coffee and a new shirt, asshole.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever. i’ll see you later, okay?” with that, gyuvin was practically sprinting back to the cafe. you couldn’t help but laugh at him; he deserved to get chewed out. he ruined a perfectly good shirt.

you sat back down in your chair, pulling your notes out once more in an attempt to get this stupid project taken care of. it had really dampened your mood when the professor announced you had to make a detailed infographic over a topic that he assigned to you, which made it that much harder because you were given one that you could care less about. to top it all off, you now had no coffee and a damp shirt.

you heaved a frustrated sigh. you could only hope that this project would go well and your day would get better than it was going, because you'd had enough embarrassment in the past ten minutes to last yourself a lifetime.

“rough day?” you could hear a person’s voice to the right side of you, which caused you to visibly jump in surprise. you turned to face the owner, only to be greeted with the beaming smile of zhang hao. you hadn’t seen him since the party a few days ago, but the two of you had texted nonstop almost every single day since he left gyuvin’s apartment with a very hungover hanbin. you returned his grin, “you don’t even know the half of it. i take it you saw all of that?”

“it was kind of hard not to. it’s not everyday someone’s yelling profanities in the middle of the library,” he admitted with a chuckle.

you turned red at his remark. if you didn’t feel an ungodly amount of embarrassment before, you sure did now, especially knowing this all unraveled right in front of your new friend. you buried your face in your hands, “i’m gonna stab gyuvin someday. mark my words.”

zhang hao’s eyes flitted to your shirt, a look of sympathy flashing across his gaze while he sat down in the chair across from you. he quickly took his hoodie off of his body, holding it out to you, “here, go change into this.”

“are you sure?” you asked, your eyes wide at his offer. he only smiled, pushing it further into your direction until you finally took it from his grasp. you thanked him before making your way to the bathroom.

you weren’t sure if it was the way he seemed to go pink when he was handing you his hoodie or if it was the fact that you had it in the first place that made your heart flutter in your chest, but irregardless, it was still happening and you weren’t sure what to make of it. sure, you’d definitely grown fond of the boy in the short few days you’d been talking to him, but you didn’t think it was enough to cause you to feel the way you did right now.

you pushed into the empty bathroom and entered the stall furthest from the door, not wanting to risk the chance of someone trying to barge in while you had your shirt off. the walls were covered in countless messages written by people over the course of the years; obscenities, phone numbers, and _+_ written in the middle of poorly drawn hearts. your university clearly didn’t check the bathrooms regularly enough, or they simply did not care about what was written on them. you wouldn’t be shocked either, if you were completely honest. it was rare enough that the university apartments even had decent heat in the winter, god forbid they’re asked to keep their bathrooms looking nice.

you peeled your shirt off, grimacing at how gross it truly felt clinging to your skin until it was completely off your body. gyuvin definitely owed you a new shirt - though you were positive he owed you a lot more than just that; your dignity, perhaps? you made the attempt to fold it as neatly as you could, but there was only so much you could do when it was in the condition it was.

you now grabbed the soft cotton sweatshirt from the hook on the door, smiling fondly before you slipped it over your head. it still had every last bit of zhang hao’s warmth inside of it, which was a nice change from the cold air hitting your wet skin. it smelled faintly of vanilla and laundry soap, just what you would have expected from zhang hao. simple scents for someone who seemed like a simple guy.

feeling much better than you did just moments prior, you smiled to yourself and left the stall. you caught a glimpse in the mirror of how the hoodie seemed to fit you nicely you before you left the bathroom and cursed yourself for blushing so easily. it’s just because i’m embarrassed, you thought.

by the time you got back to your spot, zhang hao was already hunched over a textbook, his hand scribbling notes down on the paper beside him. he only looked up when you pushed your chair back and plopped down, shoving your shirt into one of the empty pockets in your backpack, “thank you for letting me borrow this, i feel a lot better.”

zhang hao was thankful that you didn’t see him nervously swallow, “it’s no problem, anything for a friend.”

a comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you both delved back into your work. you kept finding yourself getting distracted by every little thing, whether it be someone coughing or your interest in anything but the task in front of you. soon your mind was wandering further than you hoped for it to, your project shoved to the side and your eyes trained on the same part of your laptop screen. you mentally cursed yourself out for daydreaming so much; you never meant to, it just happened. more often than you’d like to admit, but still.

little did you know, it caught the interest of zhang hao and made him smile to himself as he continued reading the words printed on the glossy pages in front of him.

a couple hours later, you found yourself in one of the dining facilities with zhang hao, the both of you scarfing down your food like it was the last meal you would ever be able to eat. studying made you guys hungry, you told yourselves, you deserved it. zhang hao was the one who suggested you grab a bite to eat after all the hard work that you guys - mostly him, that is - did within the time at the library.

“i usually have time to actually eat lunch only on mondays and wednesdays. any other time, i have to get something from the grab and go portion of the dining facilities,” the brown haired boy informed you, his cheeks puffed out from the chicken he was currently working on chewing, “so i’m glad you got coffee spilled on you today. i have a buddy to eat with.”

“that’s usually when i’m free too!” you exclaimed, a grin lighting up your face, “maybe we can make it a part of our routine to eat together?”

“yeah, i’d love that!”

iii.

you kept up with your plans that you made with your friend for the past month now. every monday and wednesday out of the week you ventured to different dining facilities scattered across campus. each time you were filled with delicious food and pleasant conversation, but you couldn’t help but feel yourself start to get anxious.

you were developing feelings for zhang hao.

they had hit you like a truck, completely uninvited, though you had been suppressing them for longer than you would ever admit to yourself. it had been at one of gyuvin’s parties when zhang hao helped you with cleaning up the mess around the house for the nth time since the semester started.

“we always find ourselves in this situation, huh?” he’d remarked, “i wouldn’t want it to be anyone else, though.”

you had to stop yourself from dropping a solo cup full of beer all over the floor in gyuvin’s kitchen. you instantly felt your cheeks heat up, turning away from him so he couldn’t see you; there was no reason for you to look like a tomato in his presence.

you mentally screamed at yourself. it was the simplest of statements, but nonetheless it ignited a whirlwind of feeling inside of you that you hadn’t been able to figure out. you wanted to slap yourself to get it out of your head that you were just friends. nothing more, nothing less. friends.

“i wouldn’t want it to be, either.”

the moment you brought it up to gyuvin, he wouldn’t let you live it down. his best friend had a crush, whether you wanted to admit it or not, and he was determined to play matchmaker. many hits to his arm and a few choice words later, the brunette was swearing he would keep his nose out of it. besides, you knew that zhang hao meant it in the most friendly way possible. there was absolutely no way that he felt the same way as you, so there was really no need to dwell on it. surely you would get over it. right?

wrong.

you were now sprawled out on the couch with your head in gyuvin’s lap, your eyes closed, as he threaded his fingers through your hair. you’d finally broke down and admitted you had a crush, but you were almost positive it would go nowhere. sighing, you said, “i don’t know what to do, gyu. i know he doesn’t feel the same, so telling him will only ruin our friendship, and i like having him in my life.”

“you don’t know what his thought process is, dummy,” gyuvin snorted, “for all you know, he could be madly in love with you.”

“i highly doubt that,” your eyes were now open and were looking up at your best friend, who seemed to be deep in thought. he was silent for a while. too silent, might you add, because the boy hardly ever knew when to shut up. sometimes it was both a blessing and curse.

finally, he said, “maybe you should suggest playing truth or dare at the party this saturday. maybe i can even force you two to join if you’re too scared.”

now it was your turn to be deep in thought. you had been venturing out a little more at gyuvin’s parties lately, though zhang hao was always by your side. it wouldn’t hurt to at least see if he wanted to play, though you knew you would be too scared to even think about asking him. you sighed in defeat, “i don’t know… it seems like a good idea, but what would we even be asked to do if we picked dare?”

“you’re overthinking this,” gyuvin stated, giving your forehead a harsh flick.

“okay, mr. i can never make up my fucking mind about anything,” you countered, though you knew he was right, “can i trust you with this?”

gyuvin held his hand over his heart, mock offense clear due to his wide eyes and parted lips, “how dare you think i would do something irrational. shame on you.”

“i’m serious, gyu.”

his joking demeanor soon abided and now his face held a serious, more concerned look, “of course you can trust me. i’m not going to make you guys do anything like seven minutes in heaven or something stupid.”

you hoped you were making the right decision.

iv.

to say you felt like you were going to throw up was an understatement. saturday had rolled around far too quickly for your liking and you desperately wanted to go back to the beginning of the week. maybe you were making the wrong decision. maybe playing truth or dare was the worst idea you could ever make.

“hello? earth to y/n?” coming to your senses, you’d realized that people had begun to show up little by little, hanbin and zhang hao being some of the first to arrive. you felt your heart flip in your chest the moment you made eye contact with him, but managed to keep yourself composed.

you offered a small laugh, “sorry, i must have been daydreaming again.”

the group surrounding you chimed in with their own laughs, but you felt even more scared now that zhang hao was standing right in front of you. there was no turning back now, you supposed.

gyuvin was able to read you like a book, because the next thing you knew, he was shoving a red solo cup into your hand as well as zhang hao’s and sending you away without much thought. you took your spots on your usual bean bag chairs in the corner, looking over to see gyuvin letting even more people into his house upon hearing their knocks.

“you think he’s ever going to stop throwing these parties someday?” zhang hao inquired, snagging your attention from the door that was far too interesting to you.

you chuckled, “doubt it. he lives and breathes for these parties. it’s a way for him to de-stress.”

before you knew it, you were falling into your normal conversation with him once more. the reason you were so anxious faded into the back of your mind the moment zhang hao started showing you pictures and videos of his dog. things were always so comfortable with him. you cursed him for causing you to feel as if nothing else really mattered whenever you were around him.

the music thumping almost completely drowned out the rest of the chaos going on in other various parts of the house. you’d finished your drink for once - though you blamed that solely on the fact that he smiled at you and you forgot how to function - and you were feeling relatively good about the night.

gyuvin finally bounded over to you, and much to your surprise, he wasn’t totally trashed, “guys, come on, we’re playing truth or dare! it’s about time you actually play a game, yeah?”

you swallowed harshly, turning to gauge zhang hao’s reaction. he merely shrugged, rising from his spot and offering you his hand. you took it, hope to god that he wasn’t able to feel the insane amount of sweat you had accumulated within the few short moments of all of this. gyuvin was surprised to see zhang hao give in so easily, as were you.

you followed gyuvin into his spare room, which he used for an office, and sat down in the few open spots left in the circle. you were able to recognize a few people you went shared classes with, like seok matthew and park gunwook, as well as a few other unfamiliar faces. you felt relief to feel gyuvin sit down next to you and see hanbin make his way into the room as well.

the circle was rather large and you hoped you wouldn’t manage to embarrass yourself in front of everyone. gyuvin was quick to get the game started, asking you a harmless truth question to start out with. the game continued on, not getting too interesting within the first few rounds. the most anyone had to do was take their shirt off, which you honestly expected considering you were at a party and people had alcohol coursing through their veins.

“truth or dare, hao?” gunwook asked, now beginning what felt like the millionth round of the game. hao sat there for a moment, contemplating his options before finally stating, “dare.”

gunwook looked over at you and smirked. mischief lurked behind his dark eyes, his plump lips parting to say, “i dare you to kiss y/n.”

the lump residing in your throat made itself known within mere seconds of the words being spoken. gyuvin tensed up next to you, indicating that this is definitely not how he expected the game to go. you were frozen, at a standstill, really. zhang hao’s eyes met with your own and you could tell he was having an inner debate.

“i mean, we’re just friends, right? no harm, no foul?”

you could feel your heart sink in your chest. just friends. nothing more, nothing less. it wasn’t like you expected anything less from the universe, so you just decided to give in. you nodded, “right.”

you knew gyuvin was going to chew you out for this. you knew that you were going to beat yourself up every single day for it. but did that stop you from letting him come over to your side of the circle, squatting in front of you, and pressing his lips against yours? absolutely not.

kissing him was almost indescribable. it was the first time you had kissed someone and actually felt something. you leaned lightly into him, having to suppress a sad whine when he pulled away just as quickly as he kissed you. he gave you a small, close-lipped smile before he settled back down in his spot next to hanbin once more.

you swore you could feel yourself breaking.

gyuvin was able to rub small circles in your back without anyone noticing. it was the thing he always did when he knew you were upset, whether you showed it visibly or not. he could feel the sadness radiating off of you in waves and he hated it. he hated it because he internally blamed himself for this. he was the reason why you were hurting. if he hadn’t suggested this, you wouldn’t be feeling what he knew you were.

the game continued on and you were able to put on a front better than you expected. your laughs even seemed believable. but if you were being honest with yourself, you wanted nothing more to crawl into your bed and cry for the rest of the night.

which, you were able to do, except the crying part. the moment your head hit your pillows after the long night you had, you just didn’t have it in you to cry. instead, you spent the entire week wallowing in your own self-pity. you’d given zhang hao the excuse of feeling under the weather to avoid even being in his presence at all. you needed to figure yourself and your feelings out.

that proved to be a lot more difficult than it sounded, though.

even though you were in bed, either trying to grasp the little motivation you had left to do your assignments or stuffing your face with ice cream - it was a good coping mechanism, you told yourself - your mind was still riddled with thoughts of that night. with how right it felt to have his lips against yours, or how badly you wanted him to swoop back in for another kiss the moment he pulled away. you hated being like this, you really did, but for some reason you just couldn’t get yourself out of your funk.

“how long has it been since you talked to him?” gyuvin asked through the speaker of your phone, which was laying flat on your chest as you stared up at the ceiling above your bed.

you sighed, reluctant to answer his question, “if you mean in person, at the party on saturday. over text, then on monday. i made up an excuse to get out of lunch with him this week.”

you were greeted with radio silence on gyuvin’s end. if that was anything to go by, it certainly was never a good sign. it meant he was either scheming something or he was about to start yelling at you, though you weren’t sure which of the two was worse.

“gyu?” you finally decided to break said silence, hoping he would respond, but there was absolutely no movement or sound from his end. not even the soft whirr of his fan could be heard, which gave away the fact that he muted his mic.

it was uncommon for gyuvin to burst into your apartment like he owned the place, but it still caught you off guard every single time. your bedroom door swung open, your best friend standing between the frame for a moment before he charged to your bed and ripped all of the blankets from your body. you let out a yelp of surprise, scrambling to move away from his death grip as quickly as you could.

“what the fuck!”

“you,” gyuvin gripped onto your shoulders tightly, forcing you to look him in the eyes, “are going to get your ass into the shower and make yourself look presentable. and then you’re going to see if zhang hao wants to get dinner tonight. i’m sick of seeing you wallow in self-pity.”

he earned a groan of annoyance from you, “i don’t exactly want to see him, gyuvin. I’m worried things are going to be awkward between us.”

“you still care about him, don’t you?”

“yes.”

“you were also the one to tell me you enjoyed having him in your life, correct?”

“i forgot about that, but yes.”

“then you’re going to dinner and you’re going to continue to be friends with him,” gyuvin stated matter-of-factly. he was practically dragging you out of bed at this point, shoving your body toward your bathroom.

you softly sighed. you supposed he was right, but you would never admit that. zhang hao was still important to you and you’d rather be friendzoned by him a million times than lose him entirely. you flipped the bathroom light on, only to almost turn it off after seeing your reflection. you did look pretty bad, so maybe dressing up a bit and finally seeing zhang hao would make you feel a little better.

“where’s your phone?”

you squinted at gyuvin, “why do you need it?”

“because i’m going to cover for you and make the plans while you’re in the bath.”

you told him where it was and shut the bathroom door as he left, quickly discarding your clothes and stepping into your shower. the water felt nice running over your body, all of your worries and concerns washing away with it. maybe this was the better option, staying friends with zhang hao. everything still stung, but you were willing to deal with it. you had been giving the boy the cold shoulder as of late and you felt extremely guilty about it because it was you being selfish above everything else. he didn’t even know he upset you, so it wasn’t exactly fair for you to hold a grudge against him.

you quickly finished your shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel around your body and your head, walking into your room with a content sigh. gyuvin was sat cross-legged on his bed, presumably playing a game on his phone as you picked up your own to check the damage he may have caused in your conversation with zhang hao.

[you] hey, sorry for not texting much this week. i was feeling super sick but i’m better now! do you wanna get dinner or something and catch up?

[hao] i thought you were mad at me, to be honest. it’s a relief to know you weren’t. dinner sounds good though! does 6:30 work?

[you] yep, sounds good! maybe we can order pizza at my place and watch a movie?

[hao] sure! i can’t wait :)

“thank you, gyu,” you said, “i really don’t know what i would do without you.”

“i know. now get ready, okay? i’m gonna head out and let you do your thing.”

he gave you a hug and left your apartment a lot less violently than he came in, which caused a small chuckle to slip past your lips. you had only an hour or so until zhang hao was supposed to come over, so you opted for a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt adorning your college’s logo across the front of it. you looked at least a little more put together than you did not even an hour prior, so you were happy with the turn out, even if it was a bit minimal.

the minutes until zhang hao’s arrival ticked by painfully slow, even after you occupied yourself with ordering the pizza and pulling up the movie he had texted you about that he wanted to watch. soon, however, there was a light knock on your door and you were sent into a mini heart attack from the sudden break in silence.

you padded to the door, greeting the boy with a bright smile. you had to admit, seeing him in the flesh felt a lot better than you expected. however, the moment he pulled your body into a hug, you could feel the gears turning in your head. you pushed them away the best you could, “i’m glad you were able to come!”

“me too, lunch has been pretty lonely this week without you,” zhang hao replied, pulling away from the hug and giving you one of his beautiful smiles. butterflies went off in your stomach.

guilt now riddled your entire body. the thought of zhang hao having to eat alone on your designated days of the week made you feel a pang of sadness, especially since you were the one to cancel your plans. you really just needed to get over yourself; in the long run, your crush on him didn’t matter as much as seeing him smile did.

the pizza was delivered shortly after his arrival, and the two you dug in, filling your bellies and your cheeks more than you probably should have. he filled you in on what his crazy psychology professor had done during the week and you were able to easily lie and say you spent most of your time sleeping. things were finally feeling normal with him and you were hoping it would stay that way, that your feelings would be kept at bay. however, there was a voice in the back of your mind that was nagging at you to say something to him, anything.

you sighed softly, “hey, can we talk, you know, about truth or dare game?” not exactly what you wanted to say, but it was definitely too late to take it back.

zhang hao was quiet, turning his head to face you with a look you couldn’t quite read. you were just now taking note of how pretty his eyes were and how his hair was styled a bit differently than it normally was, a sliver of his forehead on display. he looked insanely good today, not that he didn’t everyday, but you were definitely swooning more than you wanted to admit. you blinked, slowly, finally ripping your gaze away from his.

“yeah, about that,” he started, “i just wanted to apologize for it. i wasn’t really thinking and didn’t realize it would take such a toll on you. i should have asked first.”

“It’s not that i was uncomfortable, i was just mainly worried about how our friendship would be affected,” you replied, your words holding the truth to them. you knew you would like his answer, but you got it anyway.

“nothing has to change or be awkward, yeah? we can just put it past us and carry on as friends like normal.”

your week of sulking and your talk with gyuvin had prepared you for accepting that, so it was easy to nod your head and say, “that sounds perfect.”

but little did you know, zhang hao was freaking out just as much as you were.

he’d beat himself up for even spitting out the words “just friends” saturday night, and he surely was for emphasizing it again. he took every word that hanbin lashed out on him, trying his best not to fight, because he knew he deserved it. he basically friendzoned himself before you could and it clung onto his every waking thought when he left gyuvin’s apartment that night.

a million thoughts raced across his mind, much like yours; did he mess up your friendship forever? did you even want to talk to him anymore? how were you feeling after everything unraveled?

after your conversation, he had no doubt in his mind that you didn’t hold any ill feelings toward him. sitting next to you on your floor, eyes trained on the television, he couldn’t help but feel like an even bigger idiot. surely he was overthinking everything because you certainly seemed fine. you acted as you normally did, cracking jokes left and right and listening intently to his every word when he was telling you a story.

he still felt the same fluttering in his chest that he’d had from the very first time he met you. he sighed, deciding to focus his attention back on the movie instead of dwelling on something he knew was definitely not true now.

the moment your head lulled to the side and landed on his shoulder, your eyes closed and soft breathing the only sounds he was able to hear from you, he nearly melted. he hoped that this isn’t something he would think about for the next week straight, but he knew deep in his heart that he would.

because when it came to you, he couldn’t seem to get his mind to shut off.

who was zhang hao?

he was the other sober friend you made at gyuvin’s start of the year party. he was your lunch date every monday and wednesday in various locations of campus depending on how the two of you were feeling. he was someone you found yourself turning to when you were having a bad week and gyuvin was unable to be there for you. he was the friend that made sure you took frequent breaks into the hours you put in studying for tests and working on projects. he was a friend you would cherish for the rest of your life.

and he was the friend you had undoubtedly fallen in love with.

you’d accepted your fate of unrequited love a long time ago. long after you admitted your crush on him to yourself and gyuvin. long after you knew you would be friendzoned for the rest of your time knowing him. you were okay with loving him in silence. it made you feel a lot better that he at least loved you enough as a friend.

the two of you spent a lot more time together as the semester passed by and soon finals week was rolling around. your stress levels were high and you were grumpier than you ever wanted to be, especially to poor gyuvin. he always tried his best to distract you from your work long enough to make your sour mood lessen, which you were eternally grateful for, but sometimes the boy got on your nerves.

it wasn’t like he meant to, and you appreciated him all the more for at least attempting his luck, but he really just didn’t know when to shut his mouth while you were in the middle of trying to perfect some of the fonts and layout of information on yet another infographic you had to complete for your graphic design class as your final project. you eventually asked him to, for the love of god, shut up, and he sealed his lips for the rest of the night.

you were nearing the end of finals week and gyuvin was expected to pull a double three days out of the week at work to cater to the caffeine deprived students going to the cafe to drown their sorrows in espresso and cold brew, so he was out of commission once you turned in your last assignment for the semester.

you decided to shoot zhang hao a text and ask how things were going on his end, and once he replied and said that he was finally free from the chains of hell, you suggested hitting up your favorite convenience store to get snacks and celebrate a successful semester. he was at the front door of your apartment within mere minutes.

the clothes that adorned his body were nothing special. just a pair of black sweatpants, the same gray hoodie he let you borrow when gyuvin spilled coffee all over you, and a white baseball cap to hide his hair - which you knew him well enough to know that it was a mess. though it was a simple look, it was something that was wholeheartedly zhang hao.

the two of you practically ran out to his car out of excitement, feeling relief wash over you at the realization that you didn’t have to worry about more assignments for a good month and a half. you were the first to check out with your things and you told zhang hao you would be waiting outside for him whenever he was done.

he came out with nearly two plastic bags full of his favorite snacks and drinks five minutes later, only to see you standing on the edge of the sidewalk with your eyes staring out into the vacant parking lot, your head spinning a million miles a minute.

“y/n?” zhang hao murmured softly, his fingers reaching out to touch your arm gently, “is everything okay?”

“yeah, my mind is just wandering again, you know how i can get sometimes,” you replied, finally tearing your gaze away from the peeling sticker on one the gas pumps. you looked up at him with a tired smile.

he peered down at you with a soft grin curling on the end of his lips. your stomach twisted at the sight, more so than it had before he showed up to your apartment. the more time you spent with him, the more your feelings for him felt amplified by a thousand.

he always had that effect on you.

“what were you thinking about? you ought to let me take a trip on one of your little mind adventures sometime,” his words were careful as his eyes searched yours, “but only if you want to, of course.”

a small silence clung to the chilly air of the night, the cheap tube lights above your heads flickering and caressing his facial features in the most beautiful way you could ever imagine. you decided to throw caution to the wind and be honest with him. you didn’t feel like yourself the entire time you were speaking.

“i was thinking about you, hao,” you muttered, poking his arm playfully all while still managing to keep your gaze locked with his.

he appeared taken aback by your sudden statement, confusion blooming across his features as he inquired, “thinking… good things about me? or did i do something wrong?”

you felt panic rise in your throat, hurriedly saying, “god, no, it’s nothing bad i promise. i would tell you if that were the case.”

zhang hao nodded, his lips swiping over his chapped lips in an attempt to distract himself from the confusion he felt at his words. nice going, idiot, you thought to yourself, now you really screwed this up. you sighed, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly as you looked down at your feet, taking the time to kick a loose rock before you finally questioned, “we’re good friends, right?”

you didn’t dare look up to see his answer to your question because you already knew he was nodding his head in reply, enforcing the friendzone for the final time he needed to in order for you to truly lose hope. your heart felt incredibly heavy at his response even if you knew that would be the answer. however, you didn’t expect the next few sentences he said next, “if you want us to be friends, of course. if not, that’s okay too.”

you really, really needed to stop ruining things. there was an obvious shift in his tone and you finally looked up to gauge his expression, but it was unreadable. it seemed he was fighting something with himself, but the frustrated sigh he let out didn’t give you much time to think about it, “that wasn’t meant to come out the way it did, i’m sorry.”

you cocked your head to the side in confusion, letting him continue to talk as he parted his lips, “i really do want to be considerate of your feelings and i want to stay friends with you in any way possible, but i’m not sure if i can keep this bottled up anymore.” you felt anxiety instantly begin to bubble in your stomach as he shuffled his feet nervously in front of him.

“i like you,y/n. i have since the very first night we met and had to share the horrible pull out couch at gyuvin’s apartment, and i’m sorry. you obviously don’t have to reciprocate my feelings, it’s just that i wanted to get this off my chest and felt like now was the right time. i don’t know why, but it did.”

you stood in shock, the snack bag in your hand almost falling from your grasp. you felt as if you were floating on cloud nine, your far fetched dreams of zhang hao liking you back singing in your ears as his words rang over and over again in your mind. you couldn’t help the bright smile that creeped onto your lips, your eyes sparkling brighter than the prettiest stars zhang hao had ever seen.

“i... like you too?” your words moved slower than you ever expected them to, but they felt good to finally say out loud, “i’ve had too many mental breakdowns on gyuvin over it because i was so afraid of ruining the relationship we already had, so that’s why i didn’t say anything.”

zhang hao’s entire face lit up, and the silent second in between your confessions slipped effortlessly into small bits of laughter before the boy was pulling your body close to his, your arms instinctively wrapping around his waist and his chin rested comfortably on top of your head, “here i was getting all worked up over this for absolutely nothing,” he chuckled, “i’m so glad you feel the same, though.”

“me too,” you replied with a content sigh.

it hadn’t been the dramatic kind of confession you’d see in a movie. it was just zhang hao and his warm heart and kind words in the middle of a chilly, stressful night. it was more than enough to make you feel a euphoria you never had, and not too much to make you sick of the feeling.

however, you were sure that it was enough to make you love him just a little bit more.

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obae-me · 2 months

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Hello, and welcome to another installment of niche content containing another mash of my two special interests. Written out of boredom at the airport. Today's edition, fueled with my excitement of being able to go to none other than Miku Expo 2024, I give:

The Brothers As My Favorite Vocaloid Songs!

Yes, I know, please, quell your excitement. I know everyone was waiting for this one. I will take no criticisms or judgments, only enthusiastic additions.

Warning: While nothing stated in this post needs a full content warning, if anyone decides to look up these songs, many songs themselves have plenty of individual warnings, so please search with caution.

Lucifer:

Now, the song I think he'd actually enjoy listening to is Daughter of Evil. It's got tragedy behind it, the song is a bit more classical/waltzy, exactly the kind of thing he likes. However based off his vibes alone, I'm gonna say Honey I'm Home. Mostly because I love Ghost and Pals but also because religious trauma. And I know other people agree with me because I've seen fanart of it.

Mammon:

I think Mammon would listen to Sand Planet. Oo, or Bring it On. Do I have a detailed explanation as to why? Not really in so many words, but it just seems like something he'd listen to, I feel it in my bones. I will not be taking any questions. Now the song I think he embodies? Wildcard. I mean, the whole motif is about playing cards, it's upbeat and fast paced and I love it and I love Kasane Teto even more.

Levi:

I will physically fight anyone who doesn't think Levi listens to Rolling Girl at least once a day (I won't actually fight anyone but I feel very strongly on this matter). It helps him get through hard times but it also makes him cry. Which...same, Levi, same. But if Leviathan were to be a song itself, I'd have to pass it over to Volt Tackle by Deco*27. Pokémon, talking about fighting and struggling at first to capture someone's love? Oo, or Digital Girl. It's got him written all over it. (Or if I want to be sad, give him Anthropophobia)

Satan:

See, Satan is hard because I never know if I envision him listening to heavy metal or if he prefers soft melodies. And, I mean, I know he can like more than one genre at once, but picking THE song I think he'd listen to is hard... but if I'm going off of what I like as well as gut instinct... Abstract Nonsense. Now, selected off his character, I'd have to pick Hikari Yo. It's just very emotional and desperate and the poor demon boi is like that on the inside quite a lot. WAIT or Pathalogical Facade! Oo, lots of options for Good Ol Satan.

Asmo:

Easy, he'd love Gimmie×Gimmie and I don't think I need any further explanation on this opinion. I actually think Asmo would unironically like a lot of vocaloid songs, personally. And as for his songification, I handpick Aishite, Aishite, Aishite. And I know there's a lot of different people's interpretations to this song and everything and people get very... I guess territorial when it comes to this song (at least from specific corners I've seen) but it makes sense to me. It's a really popular song and it's hauntingly beautiful and it's about wanting to be loved and adored and this is MY post so I can say whatever I want about it.

Beel:

Beel is another one that's hard for me to pin down... I think his music taste (joke not intended) is rather eclectic. He probably actually has no real preference other than more upbeat songs to make it easier to work out to. In which case I get to pick whatever I wish. For him I would make him listen to Happy Halloween. I don't care what time of year it is, it's cute and upbeat and about getting treats and it's one of my favorite songs ever. Now one to embody him?... Goodness that's even harder. I would love to say Appetite of a People Pleaser, but Beel's not a people pleaser... I actually don't know! Maybe I am a sham of a fan. I am open to suggestions for my baby Beel.

Belphie:

You know I have to pick Tokyo Teddy Bear. This mans is too edgy not to listen to it all too often. Plus, it's a classic. And, you know I have to make this all even sadder by giving him the song Error. Because I like to make myself cry. And Belphie needs a good cry, let's be honest with ourselves.

I'm also going to add the Distortanist as an honorable mention for unhinged Lesson 16 Belphie.

#legitimately so worried about posting this for some reason #oh my god #but im gonna do it anyway #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me headcanons

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silver-tongued-bby · 7 months

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The Fall - Chapter II

Pairing: Manipulative!Dom!Loki x Sub!fem!Reader

This work is set in an AU.

Chapter I here.

Summary: Against your basic human instincts, you choose to go on that date.

Author’s note: thank you so much for the love on chapter 1!! I was really hesitant to post this fic- I’m so thankful people are liking it so far! I am in no way advocating for this kind of dynamic, it can get very toxic very fast. Stay safe out there folks 🖤

As always, likes, reblogs, and comments are much appreciated 🖤🖤🖤

This is work of fiction is 18+!!!!, and contains graphic descriptions of rough sex, manipulation, sadism, masochism, a sketchy situation in a car, oral sex (m receiving), shoe stuff, a dom/sub dynamic, a broken reader. Please do not interact if you are a minor or are sensitive towards any of the themes mentioned above.

~~~

You stood outside your apartment. It was cold out, though your palms were sweating.

You heard his car before you saw it, the sleek black vehicle pulling up just ahead of you. Walking over to the passenger side you got in, the butterflies in your stomach making you nauseous.

“Hi,” you turned, giving him a little smile.

His glance moved up from your legs to your face, a hint of a smirk gracing his lips. “Shall we?”

Nodding, you smoothed your hands on your skirt.

“Nervous?” His tone held an edge of amusement as he pulled away from the curb.

“A little.” You pressed your thighs together, a low throb between your legs at his comment.

“I’m flattered.” He gave you a smile. You couldn’t help but smile back, the warmth of it infectious.

You felt some of the nerves dissipate. Though there was a tug within your chest as he drove on, something deep within you urging you to flee.

“I suppose it doesn’t help that you don’t know my name,” he chuckled, running a hand through his dark waves almost bashfully.

You kept your eyes on him, admiring the length and strength of his fingers as they returned to the wheel.

“It’s Loki,” he grinned, catching your eye as he stopped at a red light.

You smiled. “Hi, Loki.”

He chuckled. “Hello to you too.”

~~~

You sat in the chair before you, the low light of the candle the only thing illuminating the dark corner you’d been seated in. He slid into his seat across from you, eyes glittering in the low light, watching you take in your surroundings.

The restaurant he’d taken you to was nice - shockingly so. The dark lighting provided an intimate yet warm space, the furnishings well made and clearly expensive.

“I didn’t know this existed,” you said with a smile, looking down at the set menu, prices nowhere to be seen.

He smiled back, his posture relaxed against the chair, long arm laid out against the rest, the glint of a silver cufflink peeking out from behind his suit’s sleeve. His brilliant eyes didn’t leave you. Interested yet amused, he looked as if he were seeing all of you, all at once. All the insecurities, the self-doubt, the constant stress of acting the part of who you thought you should be. You squirmed a little, feeling exposed, chastising yourself for the prickle of heat in your cheeks.

“The best spots are always those off the beaten path,” he smirked, nodding at the server as they filled your glasses with wine.

“How did you find this place?” You asked, taking a sip from your glass, the smooth, deep red delicious.

“I work in the industry,” he leant closer, resting an elbow on the table. “Between you and me it’s the only perk of the job.” He gave you a grin.

You couldn’t help but smile back, everything about him was so magnetic. You’d never been on a date like this before, one where you didn’t want to die of boredom. “And what do you do in the industry?”

His eyes shone, “what do you think I do?”

You pursed your lips in thought. “Food critic?”

He let out a laugh at that. “Apologies. I suppose you could say that, though you’d be hard pressed to find a column of mine in Sunday’s paper.”

You took another sip of wine, thinking. “You’re a chef.”

He smiled, taking a sip of water. “I am.”

You shook your head. “Honestly? Wouldn’t have guessed,” your eyes fell to his fingers, noticing the calluses and a faint scar here and there. “Though the 1 AM grocery store visits make a lot more sense.”

He chuckled. “Where else am I supposed to gather the supplies to maintain my steady diet of instant noodles and microwaveable mush?” He saw your expression and smiled guiltily. “Hard to cook for yourself after a day of doing it for other people.”

You smiled, the knots in your stomach gone. You’d never met someone so easy to talk to, so willing to listen and to ask about you. He was smart, almost intimidatingly so, able to keep up with you even as you described the intricacies of your work. The conversation flowed so easily you quickly found yourself divulging things that would’ve been off-limits for anyone else. But it felt good to open up, to have his focus on you alone. You wanted him to see you, the real you, all that you’d kept hidden away for so long. You found it flowing out with your words.

It felt like minutes, not hours, as you spoke throughout the meal, the server dropping a delicate plate of small desserts off at your table along with some coffee. When he’d asked if you wanted to come back to his you hoped you hid the excitement brimming within you.

And soon you were walking back to his car, slipping in to the black leather as he peeled off back towards you came.

~~~

“Do you do this often?”

You turned to him, his expression unreadable, gaze fixed on the road. “Do what?” You asked, picking at the hem of your skirt.

“Go places with strange men.”

You swallowed, your cheeks hot. “No.”

“Not very wise, is it?” He turned off the main road. You ignored the racing of your heart as you entered a neighbourhood unfamiliar to you, the passing houses progressively less well-kept.

You chewed your lower lip, unsure of what to say. The change in him in the 5 minutes that had passed since you’d departed the restaurant had your heart racing.

“But that’s part of the thrill, isn’t it?” The corner of his mouth twisted upwards. “I could have a wife for all you know.”

Your eyes fell to the glint of the silver ring on his index finger on the steering wheel, your heart in your throat. You pressed your thighs together, a poor attempt to quell your excitement. Christ. What is wrong with you?

He chuckled, turning another corner before pulling over, a mailbox in front of a pathway seemingly leading to a forest.

You swallowed as if it’d help you find your voice. “Do you?” You turned, watching the blue-green eyes focus on the rearview mirror as he reversed into the spot.

He killed the engine, turning to look at you with a smirk. “Does it matter?”

You licked your lips. “Please.”

His eyes glinted as they searched your own. He watched you, those eyes easily seeing your fear, and beyond it. “Never married. Unattached.” He winked then slipped out of the car, closing the door behind him as he started up a path.

You scrambled to follow, the walkway softly illuminated as it wound through the darkened trees.

~~~

Your eyes widened as soon as you crossed the threshold, the living room beyond the entrance warm and welcoming. The floors were a deep mahogany, accented by curved wooden walls with new age sculptures and soft, expensive-looking furniture. The kitchen lay just beyond, the large black marble island looking as elegant as it did practical.

He’d tossed his keys into the bowl at the front, slipping off his jacket before rolling up his sleeves. He was watching you with a smirk, his hands in his pockets as you took it all in.

“This place is,” you trailed off, turning so you could get a look at it all. “Wow.”

“Thank you,” he smiled, coming forward to take the jacket from your shoulders. You shivered as his finger grazed your skin.

“Something to drink.” It was more of a statement than a question. He hung your coat by his before making his way to the kitchen, pulling a bottle of wine from a cupboard.

You followed him, resting your elbows on the black marble of the kitchen island as you watched.

He pulled a corkscrew from a drawer, his forearms tensing as he expertly cut the seal before screwing in the device and pulling out the cork. He poured you a glass, then one for himself, before guiding you over to the couch. You sat as he settled in a chair across from you, his eyes glinting in the warm light.

You chewed your lip, shifting on the couch. You couldn’t shake the feeling that if an audience were watching they’d be throwing popcorn at the screen, shouting at you to get your things and go. Everyone knew what happened to the girl who trusted a little too much, who took the wrong path. But that wasn’t you. You were always so careful, almost to a fault. This is just an act of rebellion, you told yourself. Why not be imperfect this one fucking time?

“You can leave if you’d like,” your eyes met his as his voice cut through your thoughts.

“I don’t want to leave,” you spoke, your voice soft, almost apologetic. As if he’d chastised you.

His expression was unreadable, glimmering eyes taking you in. “I don’t want you to feel trapped here. If you’d like to go at any point,” he gave a lazy gesture with his hand, long fingers curved upwards, “say the word.”

You swallowed, nodding.

“You seem like a smart girl,” he spoke, a rasp to his voice. “I’m sure a lot of people would say so, wouldn’t they?”

Your gaze fell to your hands, “they would. But not a lot of people really know me.”

He chuckled. “You aren’t some mystery to unravel, darling. I saw right through you the moment we met.”

You pursed your lips. “I wasn’t hiding myself when I met you.”

“You weren’t,” he smiled, tilting his head in acknowledgement as he leant back in his chair. “But this,” he gestured to you, “and the little getup you had on the next night when you begged for my attention, is that you hiding?”

You chewed your lip.

“Don’t be so coy. You like my eyes on you, don’t you?”

You squirmed, swallowing. “I do.”

“Finally!” He grinned as he saw you flinch with his exclamation, “she offers up some truth.” His gaze skimmed down your bare legs. “Now I can be honest with you. What I’m looking for- it isn’t conventional. Really, it’s anything but,” he smirked as if he’d told a joke.

“I’ve been with partners, long term and short term. I’ve enjoyed the game in the chase. But I’ve had my fill,” he’d tilted his head to the side as he spoke, those blue-green eyes piercing. “I want something else. Something more. I want someone who won’t hesitate to break themselves for me,” he smirked. “Someone who wants to break for me. Who will let me tear them apart and rebuild them into exactly what I want. As many times as I want,” he took a sip of wine, assessing your gaze. “Does that put you off?”

You were captivated as you gently shook your head no.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “That does baffle me.”

You tilted your head in question.

“You know nothing of my life, and very little of my tastes. There is much wickedness in this world, little girl.” His grin was near criminal, his eyes alit with excitement. ”And yet you seem eager to toy with it,” he tilted his head. He was daring you to run.

You swallowed hard. “Is that wrong?”

He swirled the wine in his glass, studying it. “Not to me,” the look he gave you made your breath catch in your throat. You felt pinned to the very spot by the heat in his gaze. “I’m more interested in seeing just how far you’ll go.”

Another challenge, you thought, heart beating fast as you twisted the stem of the wine glass between your fingertips. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he nodded, gesturing towards you lazily.

“That first night at the grocery store,” you bit the inside of your cheek. “Why’d you stop at the end of the aisle?”

“Honestly?”

You nodded, sitting forward.

“I couldn’t recall if I had oyster crackers at home or not.” He fixed you with a passive shrug, the low light glinting off his eyes.

You ignored the heat in your cheeks.

He set his wine down on the table beside him. “Oh pet,” his voice was sickly sweet with condescension, “come here,” long fingers gesturing to you.

You shakily stood, stepping over to the armchair before his grip found your wrist and brought you between his legs, guiding you to sit on his knee. His thumb smoothed against your cheek, his eyes falling to the low cut of your blouse briefly, a hand coming to support your lower back.

Your breath caught in your throat as he brought you closer, blue-green gaze taking you in, his thumb tracing downwards, hooking under your chin to angle your lips closer to his.

“Is this alright?” He spoke, voice low, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips brushed against yours with the words.

You swallowed. “Yes,” you mumbled, lost in him already.

“Do tell me if things ever aren’t alright, or if you want to stop,” his lips brushed against yours again, forcing a little gasp from you. “I take no pleasure in non-consent.” Another brush of his lips had you melting against him. He pulled back suddenly, your eyes opening to the low light. “I need you to answer me pet.”

You swallowed, nodding. “Okay. I will.” Your voice caught in your throat.

His lips curved in the slightest as he drew closer once again. “Good girl.”

Before you could process anything else he was kissing you- his fingers light against your jaw, his other hand grasping your hip, guiding you to straddle him. Your head spun as you settled over his lap, feeling the warmth of muscle beneath his thin shirt.

He guided you to roll your hips against him, and you gasped, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip as he did it again and again. You were panting as he licked into your mouth, his clever tongue making you tighten your hold on him. He held you tighter, closer to him, forcing a whimper from your throat.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against your own as you kept moving, the heat between your legs almost unbearable. He hummed lightly, his hand falling to grip your ass as the other traced the skin of your thigh.

Your breath caught as you felt how big he was, the heat of him seeping through his jeans. “I don’t usually,” you trailed off, panting as he bent to nip at your throat, sucking your skin harshly before smoothing over it with his tongue. You moaned, wishing you didn’t have so many fucking clothes on. “I don’t do stuff like this,” you breathed, lips seeking his for another deep kiss.

He chuckled. “Of course you don’t, darling.” He bent to kiss just beneath your earlobe, his tongue coming to trace the shell of your ear as you whined, a tremble in your grip. “But that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?”

You nodded, panting, not even really hearing his words. You melted further into him, lost in this stranger as his long fingers tilted your head upwards to capture your lips once more. His hand slid up from your thighs, slowly tracing up your skirt, his calloused hands warm against you. He splayed his hand out, pinky and ring finger finding the inside of your thigh, coming up slowly as he kissed you more. You gasped when you felt his fingertips graze against the seam of your panties, knowing the wetness he felt.

He pulled back with a smirk, gazing up at you. “When was the last time you touched yourself?”

You swallowed, pressing yourself further against him. “T-today,” you wet your dry lips. “This morning.”

He tsked, his fingertips pushing up the hem of your tight skirt slowly. “So wet again already?” His eyes flickered down to the black lace of your panties as they came into view with your slow movements. “You’re dripping. All for me?” You nodded, fingers pressing against his lower abdomen, the heat that seeped through the thin cotton of his shirt addictive.

“And how did you get yourself off this morning, pet? Did you watch something vile as you played with your little cunt?” You shook your head. Your skirt was pushed up around your waist now, his fingertips sliding under the lace of your panties as they pressed into the flesh of your ass.

He grinned sinfully. “Ah so your thoughts were of me. Naughty thing,” his gaze flickered to your lips, “what did you think of?”

You opened your mouth but closed it, the heat returning to your cheeks.

You moaned as his fingers dug harshly into the flesh he’d been so tender with a moment ago. “Answer me.”

“You-“ you swallowed, “you being rough with me,” you gasped as he smoothed the skin of your ass. “S-slapping me and choking me,” you swallowed, “and spitting in my mouth as you, fuck,” you shivered as his other hand traced up your spine, his eyes dark as they watched you. “As you used me to get off.” You finished, voice hoarse as you tilted your hips back as your cunt pressed against his lap.

“My, my,” he chuckled, spreading his legs a little wider. “Did you come up with that all by yourself?”

Your brows furrowed as he guided you off of him, finding yourself on shaky legs, unsure of what to say. “Get down on your knees.” He commanded, as you sank down, the wood underneath them surprisingly warm.

You looked up, your eyes falling to the thick outline within his trousers. He hooked his fingertips under your chin, guiding your gaze upwards, past his slightly exposed chest, the smirk he wore near criminal. His thumb pressed against your lips, and you opened, sucking on it eagerly as you held his gaze. He chuckled again. “Be careful what you wish for.”

Spit gathered on your lips as he rubbed his wet thumb against them. “Open,” he called, and you did as you were told, tongue meeting the two fingers he pressed into your mouth. You took them deep, tears springing to your eyes as he pressed them further in, tickling the back of your throat. His gaze was expressionless, simply watching as you held your hands in your lap, tongue swirling against his palm as he reached new depths, eventually making you gag.

That brought a smirk to his lips, and he pulled his fingers from your mouth, once again rubbing the wetted digits against your puffy mouth. “Take off your clothes,” he leant back against the sofa with a sigh, reaching for his wine as you fumbled with the zipper on the side of your blouse. You let it fall from your arms, then stood to shimmy out of your skirt. He passively watched as you squirmed out of your panties, peeling the gusset wet with your arousal away from your slit with a hiss.

He beckoned you forward, and you stood between his legs. He grasped your wrist and pulled you across his knee, so your midsection hung over him, your breasts pressed into the cool leather of the couch. You gasped as his hand slid on the back of your thigh, just below your ass. “You are a lovely thing, aren’t you?”

You whined, hips grinding against his thigh at the comment. You could feel the wetness spread with your movements, his fingertips lightly dragging against your slit making you whine. “So fucking eager,” he did it again, but slowly, gathering a bit of slick against his fingertips.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, wishing he’d only give you more.

He chuckled, “I’ve barely touched you, pet.” He slid a hand into your hair, tugging at the roots to pull your face from the leather. You moaned, hands scrambling for purchase beneath yourself as your back bent. “I was going to toy with your cunt, but it seems you won’t last long. No use in it, is there?”

You groaned, pushing your hips against his thigh, all rational thoughts gone.

He tsked, rolling you off of him so you landed on your knees on the ground, a hiss coming from your lips on impact at the sting. Looking up you spotted a mirror propped up against the far wall. You hadn’t noticed it until now. The scene before you made your cunt ache, your naked body almost a shock in contrast to the well-dressed man on the couch behind you, not a hair out of place. The slick between your thighs caught the warm light from the lamp. He leant forward, forearm pressing against his thigh as his other hand wrapped around your throat.

You groaned, hips moving against the air as if it’d help quell the desire between your legs.

“What a sight,” he leant forward so his lips ghosted the shell of your ear as he spoke. You could see down his loose shirt in the mirror, the top buttons exposing his taut chest. You trembled, hips moving on their own accord once more as his grip tightened. “I haven’t even touched you and I can already tell I own that cunt.”

Your brows knit together and you nodded at his words, your mouth open as you panted. He turned, running his tongue along the shell of your ear. The sound that you made was almost inhuman, your hands clawing at your thighs as he tightened his grip further. “Fucking pathetic,” he whispered, the gravel in his voice making your eyes roll back as your hips moved in useless circles. He let go of your throat with a slight push and you gasped, your shaky hands scrambling to hold you upright.

“Please,” you rasped, meeting his icy gaze in the mirror as he took another sip of wine. His brow raised, he nodded for you to speak before setting the glass back down. “Can I suck your cock?” You asked, voice small as you met his gaze with heavy-lidded eyes.

He smirked. “You were telling the truth, weren’t you pet?”

You watched in the mirror as he stood, stepping around to face you. “You’re willing to do anything for it, for my attention.”

You nodded as your eyes fell to his fly, long fingers pulling against the fabric as he released his cock from his pants, the sight of it making your mouth run dry. “Well then, let’s see how far anything will take us, won’t we?”

You gazed up to find him smirking at you and you smiled before opening your mouth. His fingers found your jaw and he held your mouth open, his lips pursing as he spat into your mouth, some of it catching on your bottom lip. You keened high in the back of your throat, tasting him on your tongue as your hips shifted again, your fingertips itching to touch your dripping slit.

He chuckled. “Nasty little thing,” he spoke, fisting his cock with his other hand. “Hands off that fucking cunt.”

You nodded, keeping your mouth open, your eyes on his as you licked your bottom lip. He rested both hands against your head as he fed you his cock, your eyes closing at the warmth and weight of it on your tongue. You got to work, relaxing your throat as you took him deep, your tongue rubbing up against him. You took him all the way and stopped, looking up to see his dark eyes gazing at you before he started to thrust.

You gagged as he repeatedly hit the back of your throat, the length of him hard for you to take. Tears sprung to your eyes and fell as he moved faster, your hips still circling as your hands held onto each other in your lap. He pulled out, his eyes falling from your face to your breasts as you kissed his tip. “What a pretty little whore,” he smirked, running a thumb through your tears. His hand held the side of your cheek and you nodded up at him, giving permission. He raised it and struck, the impact stinging against your cheek as you groaned, licking your lips as you watched him.

His eyes were cloudy as he pressed his cock within your mouth once more. You were so enthralled you hadn’t noticed he’d shifted to press the leather of his shoe up against your bare cunt, the sensation making you flinch. You held his cock between your lips, tongue caressing it as he nodded down at you. “It’s the only thing you’ll get tonight darling,” he thrust further into your mouth, “go on.”

You didn’t need to be told twice and started grinding down against his shoe as he used your mouth. You groaned, feeling the slick gather quickly as you angled your hips just so to glide your clit against the soft leather. His jaw was set as he thrust into your throat, and the sight made you only wetter, your hips stuttering as his brows knit together.

Your pace was frantic, and you moaned around him as he angled his foot upwards, so your clit dragged deliciously, and almost painfully against the laces. Just as he pushed as far as he could go against your throat you froze, feeling a your cunt spasm around nothing, whining pitifully around his cock. You felt his balls twitch as he came deep in your throat a moment later, the sharp exhale of breath from above the only other indicator that he came. You swallowed all he had to give you eagerly as you trembled, his warm hands coming to rest on your shoulders.

He pulled himself from your lips and you blinked, processing what just happened. You’d never acted like that before, never came like that before. You’d fantasised about it, sure, but the most you’d ever come to was a light spanking and some choking, never that.

“Pet,” he spoke, the lightest touch guiding your gaze to his. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

~~~

He was so gentle with you as you showered, wrapping you in a fluffy towel before he sat you on the edge of his bed.

You were lost to thought. It had all felt so… So right. So right to do whatever he’d asked of you, the way he handled you so deliciously sent a pulse to your cunt, as if to remind you that you hadn’t even fucked. His cruel fucking joke only made you want more.

“Are you alright?” He asked, bringing you a cool glass of water.

You blinked up at him. He looked a little apprehensive. You hoped he hadn’t been watching this whole time. “Is it wrong to say I think I’m the most alright I’ve been in a very long time?” You bit your lip, the cool glass pressing against your palm.

You could see the relief in his eyes. He hid a grin, biting his lip as he shook his head. “No, Pet. Not wrong.” He brushed your cheekbone with his thumb. “Just a little fucked up.”

~~~

Author’s note: 🙃 welcome to hell 🖤 thank you for joining me. Not sure if I’ll post a third chapter, as things are likely to only get darker. Thank you for reading! 🖤🖤🖤

#dark!loki #loki smut #dark loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki x reader #loki fic #dark fic #manipulation kink #loki au #loki x you #loki x you smut #bd/sm dynamic

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saintsenara · 13 days

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In the last post you implied that jily fell for each other the moment they met, why do you think this? I never really got that vibe (it seems like they both like each from atleast as early as their 5th year) but I could be missing something here.

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

for the simple reason that both lily and james choosing to be so bothered by each other the second they properly meet is a very good sign that each considered the other to mean something significant to them from the off.

after all, if lily considered james to be completely uninteresting and unworthy of her time... then she wouldn't have involved herself in the dick-measuring contest he, snape, and sirius get into on the hogwarts express. and james wouldn't have felt compelled to be rude about her - in a way, let's be clear, which he intends her to hear and to know is directed at her - while she's storming out of the compartment with her nose in the air if he didn't think she was worthy of his attention either.

this doesn't mean that what each of them felt for each other was immediately romantic [after all, they're eleven...], but that sort of prickly, "no, obviously i don't care about james potter! i hate james potter! he annoys me just by breathing!" dislike of someone can [in many cases] be a precursor to love...

[because - of course - the opposite of love isn't hatred... it's indifference.]

and it also doesn't negate the fact that both snape and sirius are directly involved in starting - and maintaining, and escalating - the beef. snape's immediate dislike of james and sirius [and their immediate dislike of him] has that same sense of only being so bothered by someone because they matter to you. the text points this out explicitly - that snape is immediately jealous of james having the "indefinable air of having been well-cared-for, even adored, that snape so conspicuously lacked".

and that james is immediately jealous of snape having lily.

one of snape's great tragedies is that he doesn't quite possess the ability to understand the subtext of lily's relationship with james prior to the breakdown of their friendship - and that this is why james and lily bantering [pretty flirtatiously, to be frank] while james is bullying him blindsides him, making him so angry that he lashes out in the only way he believes could soothe his pain and calls her a mudblood.

it's clear from the princes tale, for instance - especially the bit where they're arguing about mulciber versus the marauders - that snape is trying to needle lily into stating conclusively that james doesn't matter to her [and that he's immensely reassured when she seems to do so], but that he doesn't realise that lily calling james an "arrogant toerag" doesn't actually indicate the indifference he's looking for...

that conversation seems to take place in their fifth year - and snape being worried that james' interest in lily is sexual might very well have only started then - but it has as an undercurrent the heavy implication that snape and lily have had similar discussions before. it seems pretty unlikely, for example, that lily would ask snape "why are you so obsessed with them?" if he'd only just started bringing james and his cronies up with her - and it seems equally unlikely that snape would have felt the need to complain to lily about the marauders prior to this conversation if he hadn't been worried for a significant amount of time that lily was not quite as unconcerned by james as she claimed...

[this - for what it's worth - is why i think the anti-jily "james forced her into being with him!" argument doesn't hold up. james' technique is pretty heavy-handed - absolutely - but he behaves the way he does because he's noticed that lily not only reacts to it, but that she reacts to it in ways which aren't boredom, sadness, or fear. and she does this - of course - because james sincerely interests her.]

and - while this comes with the risk of undermining what i said yesterday - it's striking that this is exactly what happens with ron and hermione. while their friendship establishes itself very differently to james and lily's - and while the course it takes towards romance is also very different - that same "no of course i don't care!" interest in each other is present from the get-go.

i don't think this is because jily and romione are intended by the doylist text to be parallels so much as i think that it's a way of conducting interpersonal relationships that jkr is clearly fond of in her own life [which is due both to her own personal idiosyncrasies and the cultural context in which she lives - insulting people you care about is the british love-language, describing a man as an "arrogant toerag" is practically writing him romantic poetry].

but i do think the fact that it turns up in how both couples are written - particularly since the doylist text thinks that james and lily were a perfect couple, even if its readers disagree - is intended to show that, in both cases, the fact that it was irritation-at-first-sight meant it later turning into true love was inevitable...

#asks answered #asenora's opinions on ships #jily #james potter #lily potter

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whywoulditho · 3 months

Text

"the fandom ruined mha" is one of those vastly popular opinions that i've never quite understood. because they honestly...weren't as bad as people made it seem??? i swear people with zero fandom experience will see a thirteen year old in cheap cosplay having fun and say shit like "ew i hate this fandom you're ruining it" like maybe leave the goddamn kid alone??

mha has a very large fan community, and what makes it a little different than most other anime fandoms is that mha was specifically targeted for a global audience. they did their best to avoid any quirks and cliche tropes of anime that would go over non-japanese' heads. the art style is pretty cartoonish and it's got lots of references to western comics. there's a whole ass movie set in the US. what i'm trying to say is that a large, international fandom was always what they were going for, and it was well received. it was one of those shows that you'd kind of had to watch if you wanted to be in anime spaces back in like 2016-2018. mind you this is when even aot wasn't that popular. and when something is so popular, there's gonna be lot of weird people in the fandom. BECAUSE most of them will be people who have never been in fandom spaces before. the "cringy mha fans" that were the butt of every joke in anime discord were more of than not minors having just been introduced to anime or fandom culture as a whole. there were lots of weird stuff, i admit. but was it ever really that serious? like why couldn't yall just leave those people alone??

another thing people just couldn't stop talking about was how there were way too many ships in the fandom but 1) why is that a bad thing? and 2) of course there were gonna be a lot of ships in a show that introduced TWO WHOLE CLASSROOMS OF TEENAGERS AS THE MAIN CAST who interacted all the time. not to mention all the students from other hero schools, upperclassmen, pro heroes & teachers. there are like a million characters in this show and the more characters the more potential ships -it's fucking common sense. i think what really happened there was that people outside of the fandom looked at the fanmade content and thought the fandom must have been obsessed with ships. when in reality i think the fans were really chill about it. most of them were multishippers, they didn’t mind the other pairings. i understand that for an outsider's eye all the ships and disclose must've looked chaotic but in fandom spaces people know how to filter the content they engage with so there really arent any serious "ship wars" going on anywhere except for maybe instagram comments.

i am not saying all the ships were unproblematic, there were some pretty weird ships going on too, but honestly i thought half of them were jokes? or at least crackships? and if you compared the number of fics those kind of pairings have on ao3 to the more family friendly ones you'd see that there really weren't an actual fanbase for any of those weird ass pairings.

i think the core of mha fandom has never been as chaotic as others thought it was. mha fans were interested in the story, the fights & the character development while casually enjoying ships as well. it wasn't that serious until yall started bullying a bunch of kids online. with the rise of tiktok and the boredom the pandemic caused there were a huge amount of amateur content. i'm not saying i've never seen a mha fan being genuinely cringe. i just think the mature response to those posts would have been leaving the poor kids alone.

yesterday i've seen a youtube video about how awful mha fans are and this guy just showed a clip of a bunch of cosplayers outside of what was probably an anime convention dancing to gangnam style and he was going on and on about how annoying they are. and it made me so angry because where the fuck did these anime fan bourgeoisie snobs come from telling people they can't have fun at FUCKING ANIME CONVENTIONS??? i dont know if you've ever been to one but an anime con is basically the only place that's supposed to be safe to do cringe shit like that. everyone goes to those things in cosplay, some better than others. but last i checked everyone was pretty nice to each other, complimenting each other's costumes, asking to take photos. the cosplays don't have to be good, they don't even have to be complete. a convention is the one place you can show up in a wig you bought off ebay and a costume you finished making the night before. i dont know what yall are on but people go to those events to have fun. not to be filmed and made fun of. and from my personal experience having been in fandom spaces since middle school, someone who dances to gangnam style in a cheap todoroki cosplay is an infinitely nicer person than the stuck-up loser who makes a video complaining about it

#long post #fandom #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #ships #cosplay #i talk

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dearmura · 11 months

Text

new hair, who dis?

☆ cw. some swearing, (not beta read)

☆ pairings. idol! Ni-Ki × fem! reader

☆ synopsis. Jokingly replying to Ni-Ki's latest post, you expected to be left on sent for the rest of life. Instead, you get a reply back...you're joking right?

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You sigh to yourself for the nth time that past hour, scrolling mindlessly in utter boredom. An image posted a few days ago catches your eye, one of Ni-Ki with his new blond hair. You scoff, could the company make it any more obvious they're having a comeback?

As much as you loved the new look, you couldn't deny your love for his previous Oreo hair. With a pout, you repost the picture, captioning to your few followers how much you hate hybe for changing his hair

As your eyes shift to the clock, you hiss, realizing how unproductive you're being

Peeling yourself away from your pillows, you shuffle your way into your kitchen, practically dragging yourself to your fridge with how lazy you're feeling

Grabbing a bottle of water, you bring it to your lips, about to take a sip when a buzz is heard from your phone

Not having any human interaction that day, you opted for checking the source, guessing somebody messaged you. Not to your surprise, it was nobody, but rather a notification indicating enhypen had made a new post

With enhypen's lack of content in-between promotional periods, you were thrilled to see an update. Shuffling back into your room, you lay back on your bed, clicking the post

You mentally squeal at the image of Ni-Ki posing for a selfie, double tapping your screen with so much enthusiasm one would've thought he'd come to life if you did so. In the midst of your fangirling, you came up with quite the stupidest, most delulu idea ever. To be fair, you had nothing to do, what else could a girl do to keep herself busy?

Opening up your dms, you search for Ni-ki's profile. You're hopeless, really

You scoff at yourself

Clicking on his profile, you conjure up quite the worst first message ever, failing at an attempt to be funny

Wait...have we met before? Cuz you look a lot like my future boyfriend

Before you back out of it out of pure cringe, you click send, immediately throwing your phone to the other side of your bed. You knew that idols don't even open their dms but the embarrassment lingered, nevertheless

After a few minutes of self-hatred, you open up your phone again, too bored to continue staring at the ceiling. Taking another sip of water, you hear a second buzz

You spray water all over your bed at the notification before your eyes. You slapped yourself to make sure you weren't seeing things, unfortunately, the sting on your skin confirmed your greatest fear that you were, in fact, not in a nightmare

I've got to admit, you've wooed me with that one

You scream into your pillow in pure embarrassment, avoiding the situation you got yourself into for a second

Your heart clenches once more when you hear another dreadful buzz

Leaving me on seen now? I thought you were interested, darling😞

You almost scoff at how dumb you looked right now. Nevertheless, you begin typing to not upset him further

If you're a hacker, this guy isn't even that famous, it's not worth it

You joke in hopes of lightening the mood, more for yourself though

Ouch

I come in peace

You giggle to yourself, still not processing your chat with THE nishimura riki

Sorry bub, if it makes you feel any better, I love your new hair, its almost as pretty as you

Almost

You don't know where all this confidence came from but all you know is that you're very obviously flirting with a literal idol. What have you done with your life...

Never thought I'd like being called pretty but here I am

He answered back wittily, making you scoff

Just as you're about to respond, your phone notifies you of a follow request...from him?

How about we make this our little secret, yea?

He texts almost immediately after the notification. Not entirely believing the current situation, you reply

Enough messing around

If you're gonna hack his account, just enjoy your followers and leave me alone

Rather than a text, you receive an image as a reply. A selfie. Of Ni-ki. One you know for a fact he's never posted on any socials

Yea? And what if I told you I wasn't a hacker, princess?

You almost cry, realizing your stupid pick up lines and attempts at jokes were actually received by the real Ni-Ki. Hesitantly, you accept the follow request

Yes, you were embarrassed, but who were you to pass up the opportunity?

Thanks babe😘

He texts back teasingly

Your story from earlier that day pops up with a reply underneath, knowing immediately you were screwed

Wait what happened to liking my hair, princess???

You really hurt my feelings:(((

Blushing in embarrassment for the nth time that day, you couldn't help but want to shrivel up into a ball and die already

Oh God

I'm so sorry

I didn't expect you to see that

I really like your hair

It looks really good on you

Fuck I'm sorry

You panic, tears coming to your eyes, hit with the realization you just offended your idol. Before you could beat yourself up further, you hear another buzz

No worries princess, I like my old hair better too:((

Though I am still a little hurt

Don't think I'll forgive you for that one love😞

Maybe if you take me out I can leave it behind us...

You practically cry at this point. Was he trying to flirt with you? And lowkey asking you out? Knowing you weren't in the right state of mind, you ignore your thoughts, opting for leaving this problem for future you

I uh need to go to bed

Good night, I hope I didn't bother you

You mentally curse at yourself for how stupid you sound

Oh love you could never bother me if you tried

I'll be expecting a reply on that offer next time;)

Sweet dreams angel

Next time? God you were about to throw up. You quickly like his message before throwing your phone, utterly flabbergasted at what just happened. You squeeze your eyes shut, praying what just happened was some weird dream

Fin

Author's note: Wrote this for a drabble request but clearly got too into it🥹🥹

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #ni ki enhypen #niki fluff #niki x reader #niki x you #nishimura niki #enha x reader #enha imagines #enha fluff

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donnerpartyofone · 10 months

Text

I saw this post a few weeks ago that was like a chart from a psychology text that described how different sorts of childhood trauma can produce different dysfunctions, one of which was (I *think*) Emotional Neglect -> Magical Thinking. I was so intrigued by that. Magical thinking is sort of an umbrella term for the belief in a causal relationship between two unrelated factors; it can include wishing on a birthday cake candle; the feeling that The Universe is telling you to call your ex because something reminded you of them; OCD-type rituals that you believe will ward off misfortune; the deeper meanings mis-assigned to mundane events that can be produced by schizo-affective disorders; and also religious convictions to some degree, although those are rarely considered a clinical problem as with anything that helps or doesn't seem to hurt the participants. There seem to be as many potential causes of magical thinking as there are forms of the thought pattern itself, and trauma is an interesting one.

It might be better to think of "trauma" as "helplessness" here. Magical thinking can help impose a feeling of organization where there is chaos and loss of any sense of significance. There was a lot of magical thinking going around in the gritty, depressed town where I'm from, and I often thought it was because of the persistent economic pressure. It's relatively normal for kids to be susceptible to spooky ideas, but many of the adults were also full of ghost stories and superstitions. I have one very sensible friend who is smarter than I am, who grew up there too, and we often reflect on this, which helps me know that this isn't strictly an idea I have due to my own social choices. My friend doesn't live in that town anymore either, but she's always digging up interesting stuff related to it, and one day she showed me the website of someone there offering his services as a paranormal investigator. He was in his 20s, and the site included a lot of unconvincing photos and a long, vigorous testimonial by the guy's mom. Part of me was dying to put it on tumblr, but it would only have resulted in unnecessary cruelty. I was as much a victim of magical thinking as anybody, and I think even when I was pretty young I was aware of what motivated me to be so naive and gullible: that a world full of ghosts and vampires and UFOs and such was preferable to what I normally experienced, which was a consistent sense of boredom and meaninglessness and drudgery and embarrassment and pain and suffocation in an ugly, flavorless universe whose nicer side was not going to be available to me. I had a lot of really damaging friendships with manipulative assholes and pathological liars because I was so very willing to believe the crazy things they told me, just in case any of them were true, because such a truth could change my whole life.

Sometimes I think it's amazing that I never wound up in a cult, although I guess those relationships were sort of like little one- or two-person cults. Once in a while I read about some crime involving young people who think they're vampires or something, and I have a deep feeling of pity, because I think I know what they were going through (except for the part where they think they can do whatever they want to other people). The sad story of Shanda Sharer involves a whole group of badly abused and underprivileged teens, some of whom thought they were witches or vampires, and it just makes so much sense to me that they would be overtaken by these fantasies of secret meaning and power. Recently I watched Bad Vegan on Netflix, something that I avoided at first because I thought it was just about rich douchebags humiliating each other--which is like, what else is new--and to some degree it is, but actually it's way more disturbing than that. Ambitious young raw food entrepreneur Sarma Melngailis was manipulated, isolated, and ultimately kidnapped by this sadistic freak who preyed first on her loneliness and financial fears by pretending to be a rich suitor who could solve all of her problems; then he preyed upon her feelings of personal insignificance and failure by convincing her that he and she had been selected by a cabal of extraterrestrial illuminati who would make them immortal. Sarma seemed completely broken down to me, and I was amazed by her courage in describing the scam she fell for, that she must have known would invite derision. Part of the documentary explores her youth as a kid who always believed she could become something special, and then mundane tragedies like her parents' divorce brought her back down to earth in a painful way, and it seemed like she spent the rest of her life haunted by the idea that she might just be an ordinary failure of a person. I think that's part of what made her so vulnerable to this psychopath, that he was able to access her secret dream of having a special destiny. I got one of my friends to watch the show and she was very frustrated by it because she just couldn't figure out what Sarma's problem was that would cause her to ever believe the things she was told. I tried to reiterate what I've said here, but it didn't seem to mean anything. Ironically this friend is a practicing witch with formal beliefs in the supernatural, including that people can awaken special powers within themselves, but I guess one man's magical thinking is just um not another man's magical thinking.

I still have a lot of magical thinking going, but it doesn't have the same character it once did. I tend to think of it more as "symbolic thinking"; I have a hard time accessing senses of meaning and hope, let alone any kind of self-belief, and sometimes symbolic gestures and concepts can provide that access better than my own direct, practical attempts ever could. It helps that I have a basic agnosticism about the invisible structures of the world, like it's easy for me to believe that there is more to life than what comes in through the five senses, even if I don't pretend to know entirely what that "more" is. That may help me believe that "anything is possible" and I shouldn't give up, even if I direly want to and I know I'm being kind of irrational. Magical thinking can be a double-edged sword, but maybe it's better than nothing.

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autistic-beshelar · 5 months

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Hey! I'm very interested in what you've told me about antisocial personality disorder, neurodivergence, and empathy vs. compassion so far. I would love to hear more!

hi, sorry this has taken me a bit to get to, i've had a hectic few days, and i knew i'd end up writing a lot!

ASPD:

i'll start by saying that i don't have ASPD, so i'm just going to give the basics and hand you off to people who DO have it. it's important to bear in mind that ASPD is primarily considered traumagenic, and that, like any other disorder, it can manifest in a bunch of different ways, and people with it can behave very differently from one another.

ASPD is a cluster b personality disorder characterised by low empathy, limited range and depth of emotions, disregard for other people's feelings, disregard for societal conventions and morality, chronic anger, and chronic boredom. the common view of pwASPD is that they are violent criminals, but that is primarily because research is only ever done on the worst kinds of people, and i'm sure many of them are misdiagnosed. i'm sure i don't need to explain to you why basing a disorder solely off of people in prison is fucked as a concept, given how both the prison system and psychiatry are both incredibly flawed. (it's also for this reason that i have no scientific studies to give you, because the only ones i've come across are grossly ableist)

having ASPD comes with a lot of challenges, but having a disorder - any disorder - doesn't make you a bad person. from what i have seen, a lot of pwASPD don't so much 'not have morals' as have a deep distrust of authority and base their morality on logic or serving their own interests. in fact i've seen an awful lot of pwASPD who are very left leaning or are anarchists. of course there's also plenty who are right wing assholes, but that kind of goes to show that a disorder doesn't dictate your morality, it just might lead you to approach your sense of morality differently.

ASPD resources, from actual pwASPD:

https://shitborderlinesdo.tumblr.com/post/115096247519/the-anti-social-personality-disorder-checklist

https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/your-stories/life-with-antisocial-personality-disorder-aspd/ (cw for mention of csa)

https://inanawesomewave.tumblr.com/post/177638772232/the-bones-of-it

EMPATHY:

my favourite thing to rant about. empathy is wildly misunderstood by most people, so let's start off with a proper description. there are two main types of empathy: cognitive and affective. you will also see some people say that there's a third type, 'compassionate empathy', but i have never seen a definition of it that isn't based on the idea that empathy is necessary for compassion, so i'm ignoring it, and i'll get to compassion later.

cognitive empathy: basically, thinking about feeling. cognitive empathy is the ability to recognise and understand emotions. it is involved with reading people's expressions, or understanding why a certain situation might cause a certain emotional response.

affective empathy: this is typically what people mean when they talk about empathy - the ability to feel what someone else is feeling.

it's extremely important to note that this is fucking impossible. 'feeling what someone else is feeling' is some sci-fi nonsense. it isn't real. the belief that it is causes a lot of harm.

affective empathy, properly defined, is the a person's emotional response to an emotion that they perceive someone else having. it isn't always as simple as 'i'm happy because they're happy'. affective empathy can also be involved in more complicated situations, like feeling afraid because of perceived anger (which leads to a whole conversation about hyperempathy and hypervigilance and the relationship between them, but that's a whole other post that someone who actually has feelings would be more qualified to write)

so that's empathy. it's really just a bunch of feelings that we have about or in relation to other people's feelings. there's no moral component to feelings whatsoever. morality only comes into play when action is involved. which leads me to...

compassion: being kind, not as an inherent state of being, but as a choice.

i'll talk about my own experience here, but i've heard similar from other people with low/no empathy, and i've heard similar from some pwASPD as well.

i choose to be kind because i believe it's the right thing to do. i see a lot of injustice in the world, and it makes me furious - in fact, for me, it's primarily my anger that fuels my compassion. my morals have been based partly on feeling, but also on logic, and on a lot of research. to me, being kind is logical and sensible. it's logical to want people to be happy and safe and free. it benefits me too, for starters.

i don't need to feel sad about people's suffering to want it to stop. and though i don't really feel much empathy, i do still get emotional about things - i can still be sad or angry or happy about certain things happening, it's just... less than other people.

i look at the world around me and i try to find things that i can do to make it better because i think that's my job as a human. sometimes i'm bad at it, and sometimes i'm too tired to, but at the very least i can refuse to cause harm, and when i do, inevitably, cause harm, i can make amends.

(there's also a long discussion to be had about how basing your morality on your ability to empathise with people makes it extremely easy to no longer care about people who have been dehumanised, but that's a post i don't feel qualified to make)

a book i am desperate to read on this subject is Against Empathy by Paul Bloom, but here's an article about it, which is of course not perfect, but makes a lot of interesting points: https://www.vox.com/conversations/2017/1/19/14266230/empathy-morality-ethics-psychology-compassion-paul-bloom

i hope that helps explain some things. if you have - or anyone else has - more questions, feel free to ask, and i'll do my best to answer.

#empathy #low empathy #politics #kind of #autistic #actually autistic #there's a lot more i could say tbh but lets leave it there or i'll write an entire essay. with chapters #also i've used pwASPD because i usually see person first language used for personality disorders #and it's not my place to use identity first if that's not the community consensus #but pls let me know if you are ASPD/ are someone with ASPD (or another PD) and have thoughts or feelings on this #identity first vs person first is sth that's interesting to me #disability #ableism

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augustghosts · 1 year

Text

Plastic Trees

Tommy Miller x Fem!reader

Ok, I’m sooo nervous to post this lmao. I’ve convinced myself that it sucks. This isn’t everyone's cup of tea so make sure you read the warnings! I did the classic me thing by wanting to get right into the story, so there isn’t much of a backstory here but I have future chapters planned (and may have already started writing them) if anyone is interested. So let me know if you enjoy and want more <3 Thank you for reading!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning: 18+! This isn’t proof read so lmk if u spot any dire mistakes. Kidnapping duh, kind of dark!tommy i guess? Or maybe just very ooc. guns and swearing and all that typical tlou stuff. Reader is an adult, obviously. Handjob, slight voyeurism, face fucking.

This is the worst part. Night time, or at least she thought it was night time. The countdown to morning, wondering if they will even come back down. Wondering if this was the night they pack up and leave, leaving her to die alone down here. The basement was always dark, day or night. But these next few hours were the worst, it would get quiet. No footsteps or shouting. Only a few steps every now and then of whoever was up to keep watch while everyone else slept.

She knew who was on watch tonight, it must be Tommy. She knows this now, she's been down here long enough to know their patterns. She knows it’s Tommy because every hour or so the footsteps sound above her and a shadow appears at the basement door. It lingers for a while and then retreats. She wonders what he thinks, is he toying with her? Is he just trying to listen? See what she’s doing? Or, does his hand linger over the door knob, does he ever think about coming down? Does he ever think about letting her out?

She’s convinced that he does. Or maybe she’s convinced herself that to make herself feel better, either way - Tommy is different. He has softer eyes than his brother. He asks her if she’s okay, despite her answer always being something along the lines of go fuck yourself. Tommy is the only one who actually told her his name. His brother Joel, she only knows after hearing Tommy say it. All of this - Tommy looking at her sweetly and sneaking her extra food is what led to this. She's crouched at the bottom of the stairs. Tommy’s silhouette is lingering by the door. A few seconds and he retreats. His footsteps echo above her, getting quieter as he reaches the other side of the house. Her heart is hammering in her chest, her blood rushing as she steps up onto the first stair. The wood creaks under her, the same way it does when one of them walks down them. She cringes - she listens. When she hears nothing above her, she takes a chance and steps up onto the next one.

She knows the door isn’t locked. The world was years into an apocalypse, this house is run down. The closest thing they had to a lock was making her believe there was someone on the other side 24/7. And usually, there was. Until night, she guesses they think she's asleep - so they would wander around the house. They go stand by the front door instead, keeping watch.

As she ascends the steps, Tommy is above her. Leaning against the dirty kitchen counter. His gun on the old marble in front of him. Easy job, my ass, he thinks. The day he stops listening to Joel is the day he will know peace. Kidnapping someone, locking them in a basement and waiting to hand her off to a group of fuckers who are planning to do god knows what. This is not an easy job. As if to illustrate his point, a gust of wind blows over the house and it creaks. The shitty windows sound awful as the rain pounds against it. Fuck this. He wants to go home. He straightens up and swings his gun back in over his shoulder, planning to do another lap of the house as boredom takes over him.

He freezes as he hears a familiar squeak. It’s not the house this time, it’s those damn noisy basement stairs. He walks slowly, quietly - and peeks around the corner down the hallway. The door is closed. He peeks round into what used to be the living room of this house, Joel and the rest of their group are asleep on the floor and on various old couches. He’s still frozen in place, listening. Another creak echoes from the hallway. He creeps closer, obviously more stealthy than the person on the stairs. Another creak as they reach the top stair, he knows the sound is more hollow than the rest of the stairs. He dips into another room as the basement door handle begins to turn slowly. Her hesitation is obvious, the door is opened slowly - she’s slow, not wanting it to make too much of a noise.

She looks out into the hallway, holy shit - it’s empty. She can see the front door from where she’s standing. She knows the lounge is on the left, and she knows they’re all in there. She can hear the rain and wind up here too. Shit, she’s wearing a shitty pair of jeans and a t-shirt. The same thing she had been wearing since they snatched her up. She opens the door wider and takes a step out, the house is silent. Where the fuck did Tommy go? She takes a few more quiet steps, excitement building inside of her. Excitement to feel the rain and wind on her skin. Excitement to go home.

Her pathetic excitement turns to pure fear and adrenaline as she hears the familiar click of a shotgun beside her. As she passes a dark room on the right of her, a cold metal barrel is pressed to the side of her head. Her hands instinctively rise up, surrender.

“Turn around.” Tommy’s familiar voice - he’s quiet, trying not to wake the others. Her hand flexes at her side, contemplating grabbing the gun. What would she do with it? She has no fucking clue. But she’s so close to the front door.

“Don’t.” He says. “Just turn around.”

“Please, Tommy.” She tries. Her voice was shaking. He almost felt bad. She turned to look at him, face to face with the gun aimed at her head.

“Please what?” He’s still whispering. His voice was deeper than usual when he did.

“Let me go.”

“Yeah, right. Turn around.” He scoffs. Stepping out into the hallway and blocking her way. He’s much taller than her, his height is intimidating as he towers over her, crowding her back down into the basement. She takes a few steps back as he takes a few forward.

“The door is right there. You- you could let me go.” She tries to bargain as he continues to walk forwards, forcing her to walk back into the doorway.

“Oh yeah? And then what? I’m supposed to be on watch, so you escaping is my fault. Then you die out there and we don’t get paid.”

“Please i-“ She starts again, resorting back to pleading with him. She’s so worked up she forgets about the steps. Tommy stops her before she can fall backwards, his large hands reaching around her waist. He’s in charge now, he’s standing in the doorway holding her above the stairs. Blocking her exit, and if he lets go of her - she falls. She’s looking up at him, her eyes big and tearful. Fear evident on her face. Her hands are tightly gripping the front of his jacket, trying to steady herself.

“What now princess?” He says, his voice rumbles.

“Hm?” He prompts as she doesn’t reply. She’s honestly at a loss for words. She’s not sure if it’s because this is not what she planned, or wether is being so close to him like this.

“Are you gonna be good?” He asks. She hates the way her stomach stirs. She wants nothing more than to push him away. “Are you gonna go back down? You don’t have many options.”

She continues to stare at him, weighing her options. She looks at the door behind him and he smirks, an idea popping into his head. He pretends to let her go, one of his arms dropping away from her and slapping over her mouth when she almost screams - thinking he’s about to let her fall down the stairs.

He hauls her up and presses her against the wall, his hand still covering her mouth- the other one gripping her hip tightly. Her hands are still twisted into his jacket, her knuckles turning white. She’s crying now, sobbing behind his hand. Fuck, he was enjoying this.

“I’m going to ask you again.” He whispers. “Are you gonna be a good girl and go back downstairs?”

Her eyes are wide, tears hitting his hand as they fall. She nods slowly, trying to ignore the heat growing between her legs. God, she wishes she had met him in a different situation. He was so beautiful. His dark eyes bore into hers before they flickered downwards. He watches her chest heaving, he feels her eyes on his face and he knows she can feel him. His body is pressed against hers, trapping her against the wall, so he knows she can feel his cock hardening against her.

He lets go of her mouth, bringing his hand down to her throat instead. He leans in, his lips inches from hers. She can feel his breath on her lips but she doesn’t dare move. Fuck, she can’t deny that she wants him to kiss her. Would he let her go if she fucked him? She decides to take her chances. She slowly unwraps her hands from the collar of his jackets. She presses her palms against his chest, for a second he thinks she’s going to try to push him away and he prepares himself to grab her wrists. But his breathing hitches as her hands travel down his stomach and pause at the hem of his shirt.

She looks up at him with the most innocent look she can muster, she searches his eyes for any anger or resistance. He’s doing the same to her, his eyes urging her to carry on. She feels his stomach flex as she slowly lets her hands travel underneath the fabric. How long has it been since someone has touched him? It’s been a while since someone has touched her - just his hand around her neck right now is setting her on fucking fire.

His hand tightens around her throat as she unbuckles his belts and dips her hand into his jeans. Feeling him over his underwear first. Stroking him with a feather light touch. He leans in to press his mouth to her jaw, a quiet moan leaves her lips and she swears she can feel his cock twitch.

“Get on with it.” He mumbles against her skin. Trying to resist biting down into her flesh, not wanting the other guys to see any marks. The other guys - who are only around the corner. If any of them were to wake up and look over here they would see them. Fuck, that turned her on. She hates it.

She reaches into his underwear and grips him tightly. “You're not gonna be gentle with me baby?” He hisses beside her ear, she can hear the smirk in his voice, she feels his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“What do you want me to do?” She whispers, her hand begins to move, jerking him off slowly. He smells like leather and sweat, she whimpers as her clothed tits press against his chest. His nipples are hard and aching.

“Fuck.” He moans into her ear. His hand flexes on her throat before he shocks her by letting go and straightening up. “Get on your knees.”

“Okay.” She mumbles, slowly kneeling down on the dirty floor. The floorboard creaks underneath her and they both freeze for a second. His hands stop in the middle of pushing his jeans down. They both look down the hallway and listen for a second. When they hear nothing- the house is still silent, he continues. Pulling his jeans down just enough to pull his cock out.

Tommy almost feels guilty as she kneels down in front of him. Almost. His cock is so fucking hard and aching that he can’t help himself. He reaches for the back of her head, guiding her mouth towards his length. He can’t help but think about how fucking jealous Joel would be. He’d expressed his attraction to her when they had picked her up, joking about keeping her the group they were waiting for never came.

He almost explodes as she takes his tip into her mouth, swirling her tongue around his slit. Fuck, it really had been a while. But honestly, they didn’t have time for this. Anyone could wake up at any second and all he wanted was to come down her throat. He grasps her hair at the back of her head and pushes her head down until he feels her gag around him. And she lets him. Fuck, she was perfect.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck.” He mumbles through gritted teeth. As she works up a rhythm, sucking him off as best as she can when his hand is still on the back of her head. Applying pressure to stop her from pulling completely away. Tommy is biting his fist to keep himself quiet, his other hand has a painful grip on her hair. He keeps glancing down the hallway, eventually deciding she isn’t being quick enough.

“You’re mouth is amazing, sweetheart.” He whispers as he grasps both sides of her face. He lets her pull away for a second - she knows what he’s about to do. “But, we gotta hurry up.”

He’s already close. His dick hasn’t had anything but his own hand for a long time and the sight of her allowing him to fuck her face has his balls clenching. She has her palms on his thighs, letting him hold her head and thrust in and out of her mouth at his own pace. And his own pace is a rough one. She’s still crying, but now it’s the feeling of his tip hitting the back of her throat that’s producing the tears. Him using her mouth to get off, she swears she’s never been this turned on in her life.

It’s so fucking wrong. This is one of the men who has had her locked in a basement purely for his own gain for the past couple of weeks. But as she looks up at him, his face flushed, his teeth biting down on his lip as he roughly fucks her face in a disgusting basement - she can’t help but hope he keeps her for himself. She thinks about running away with him. She thinks about him taking her away from all this, ditching his brother and their money and taking her out into the world. She thinks about how he looks pointing his gun at her, how he would look pointing it at someone else to protect her.

She moans around him at the thought, her hand coming down and pressing between her own legs - her jeans stopping her from getting herself off. Her hand eventually goes to her breast instead. Between the sight of her desperately trying to touch herself and the way she moaned around his cock, Tommy is done for. He pauses, forcing her as far down his cock as she can go as he comes down her throat. She feels every drop as it hits the back of her mouth. He pulls his cock out of her mouth but is quick to bring his fingers to her chin, forcing her mouth shut.

“Swallow it.” He says. She does as she’s told. He lets go of her chin when he feels her swallow. She practically collapses backwards, sitting in front of him and breathing heavily. He tucks himself back into his jeans before he crouches down in front of her.

“Shhh. You did good, baby.” He whispers. He caresses her cheek. She looks beautiful like this. She swears she can see the change in his face, his eyes soften and he stands up and holds out his hands. She looks from his palms to his face a few times before it clicks, oh. She takes his hands and lets him help her up. The feeling of him holding her hands making her knees feel like buckling again.

“This doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you go.” He says, his grip tightening on her hands.

“I figured.” She nods,her voice slightly hoarse. But suddenly, she feels like she doesn’t want to go. She pulls her hands from his and turns to walk down the stairs. He stops her before he can descend them with a hand on her shoulder. He backs her up against the wall again and she gasps as he slips his hand into her jeans.

“Shit, did sucking me off get you this wet?” He asks, he’s only tracing her pussy through her panties but he can feel the wet spot she’d created. He can feel the heat radiating off of her and he swears he could get hard again.

“I asked you a question.” He says when she whimpers in response.

“Y-yes.” She moans lightly as he traces her clit through the fabric.

“You want me to touch you?”

She bites back a snarky comment of you already are and just nods instead.

“Please, Tommy. Please touch me.” She asks him sweetly.

“Since you were so good for me, i guess you deserve it.” He says. He leans in closer to her face, god - he wants to kiss her. He knows it’s a bad idea but when she leans up to meet him halfway he can’t help himself. Their lips are practically touching, softly brushing against each other - a moan leaving her mouth as he presses harder on her clit, beginning to move his finger in slow, tight circles.

As he’s about to commit and push his tongue into her mouth, some fucker moves in the other room. The sound of shuffling and someone standing to their feet has him ripping his hand out from between her legs. She’s frozen in place for a second, disappointed and shocked. Tommy is picking his gun back up and whispering Go to her and it jumps her into action. She scurries down the stairs as fast as she can, not missing the way he sucks the finger that had been touching her into his mouth.

“You good, Tommy?” A male voice calls down the hall.

“Yeah. Everything is fine.” The other man looks at him standing in the basement doorway and then looks into the darkness of the basement behind him.

“Everything okay with her?” The man asks.

“Yeah.” Tommy answers. “I thought I heard her moving around. But everythings fine. She’s asleep.”

The man nods and asks: “You wanna switch?”

Tommy nods and hands his gun over. He needs a fucking nap after that. He needed to think. He watches as the man approaches the basement door. A weird protectiveness washing over him. Shit, this isn’t good. He can’t afford to have a soft spot for her. He snaps out of it and takes the man's place on the couch. The couch is dusty and creaks underneath him and he sighs. He thinks about how the people who had hired them to collect here were supposed to be arriving tomorrow.

Below him in the basement, she’s thinking about it too. As she lays down to sleep, she hopes that Tommy will save her - hopes that he won’t let it happen. That he will sweep her off of her feet and carry her away. Hours later, she’s still hoping. A few minutes ago she had been awoken by yelling and gunshots. She’d been curled up in the corner ever since. Waiting, listening. The basement door swings open and she squeezes her eyes shut as loud footsteps tumble down towards her. Honestly, maybe this was a better end than whatever the people who had hired her to be captured had in mind.

“Hey! It’s me.” Her eyes shoot open, Tommy is standing above her looking even more disheveled than he did last night. He’s breathing heavily - his words rushed.

“What’s happening?” She asks. Tommy looks back up the stairs before extending his gloved hand to her.

“Get up. We need to go. Right fucking now.”

#yeah the title is a radiohead song… whatevs #next chapter is half way done hehehe #it’s almost as long as this one…. lmao #its better I promise…. maybe #idk tbh #FELLAS ARE WE READY FOR TLOU FINALE TONIGHT?#tommy miller #tommy miller smut #tommy miller x reader #hbo tommy miller #tommy miller fic #gabriel luna #the last of us #the last of us smut #the last of us fic

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