#almost fucking called him libido holy shit
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girl is your name livio the double fang cus i want to run full speed right into your breasts
#trigun#trigun stampede#trigun maximum#livio#livio the double fang#if i tagged this with razlo would anyone notice#god i hate art block that's literally just art block abt ur art style#punching him in the face with my lips rn#razlo the tri punisher of death#livio trigun#almost fucking called him libido holy shit#sketch#doodle
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Smithereens: Part of the Prize Buck series
Written for: @sheehanksgiving
Warnings: smut, alc mentions, codependency, vomit mention, and probably some other stuff
Your skull is a lead weight as you greet the day, groggily shifting between the sheets as you squint at the lamp you’d left on last night. It’s green bulb scolding you for falling into bed without tending to it.
Holy shit. What time is it? Thank the lord you called out of work today, you think, the idea of vomiting while all of the taxidermy at the shop watched you, ashamed of your state. Disapproving-
A groan interrupts you from your thoughts, and you turn until your shoulder crashes into Klaus’ back. You’d been so drunk and exhausted you even managed to forget to cuddle last night.
“Mmmm, what time is it?” he moans.
“I was just wondering the same thing,” you reply, nuzzling your cheek into his shoulder blade.
“Should we get up, doc?” he asks, but the way that he rearranges himself to face you tells you he only asks as a formality.
Klaus’ arm lazily wraps around you and pulls you in closely so you can forget about that lamp again. Your eyelids flutter shut as your hand comes up to brush your fingers against his stubble; it's getting unruly again. He leans into your touch and his fingers flex and squeeze into your hip, making you gasp at the harsher contact.
“That’s it, there you are,” he whispers, and you don't have to reach down to know his morning wood is straining against his underwear.
“Klaus, babe…” you moan, “ ‘M too hungover to fuck you.”
Damn this headache, you think, recognizing the growing heat in your core. Of course you want to fuck him; you just dont want to put in the effort. It was hot and heavy, the way that you and Klaus couldn't keep your hands off of each other. It's like after that first night a few weeks ago a dam burst and you libidos were now racing like a river.
“Do you still want me, though?” he asks, lips against your brow bone. He always asks. You nod against him and move your hand into his hair, fingernails scratching against his scalp.
“Okay doc, I’ll go slow.”
He moves like molasses, fingers digging and massaging into your hip, your thigh, brushing his knuckle against the hem of his shirt that you fell asleep in. He pushes it up, just enough to grant him access, and snakes his hand up to grab at your chest. He groans at the contact, pressing a kiss into your forehead as his ankle catches your leg and pulls; effectively trapping one of your legs so he can inevitably push the other one apart from it. His fingers are deft, thumb and pointer finger rolling your nipple between them as your breath hitches and falls. He lets your head fall forward into his collarbone as he snuggles you closer. You can feel Klaus chuckle against your forehead as his hand abandons your chest to travel south again.
His fingers tickle as they train down your navel, lazily moving towards their goal. He reaches your underwear and doesn't bother to try to slide them down your legs, instead opting to turn his wrist and slide his palm past the waistband. His fingers tease you before he sinks one of them into your heat.
“Oh so wet, huh? I better do something about that.”
Fuck him and his smart mouth, you think, moaning as your fingers curl around his hair and pull.
He thrusts his finger slow and experimentally, testing your waters before adding another. He pumps his fingers in earnest, hanging deliciously onto every moan out of your lips. You start to press kisses into his chest where you can reach it, tugging on his hair as he stokes the fire within you.
“You wanna come for me?” he asks, and you nod hastily.
“All for you, Klaus,” you whisper, a beg, a prayer.
He speeds up his pace, taking great care to reach as deep into you as he can, occasionally scissoring his fingers as he reaches the apex of his thrust. He has you openly moaning against him, and you bet he can feel the warm rumble of your mouth against his chest.
It is when he presses his thumb against your clit that you almost scream, then begin to chant his name, wanting him, wanting him, wanting him. And he pushes you over the edge, merciless as he continues his ministrations through your climax, even as you shudder and cling to him like you’d combust otherwise. He lets you fully relax, waits for your muscles to stop tensing before he removes his hand from you. He pulls his hand gently from your underwear before putting his fingers to his lips. He sucks the digits into his mouth, tasting you on them and moaning at the taste.
It's after his fingers leave his lips that he finally sits up, letting you fall gently against the pillows. He laughs, and turns to you.
“It looks like a bomb went off in here,” he looks intrigued, as if the two of you did not make this mess getting drunk and dancing last night. He puffs up his cheeks and lets out a breath, imitating an explosion with his mouth. You smile, finally lifting yourself up to turn off the lamp.
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✾❃S.H+D.K- A Bisexual Mess✶
Make a request!
Master list
Warnings: Smut, threesome, spit roasting, suggested poly relationship
Words: 3407
Pairing(s): Kaminari Denki x Sero Hanta x FEM!reader
Summary: Being attracted to your friend is weird, and your boyfriend having a crush on him too is even weirder.
Ok so I might’ve gotten carried away and prepared a basket instead... oops. Enjoy!
Part two
===NSFW UNDER THE CUT===
Sero Hanta always bragged about you to his friends, which wasn't a secret by any means. Well, not a secret to anybody except you. What can he say? You're perfect to him, and who's he to keep that information to himself? He would spew everything he loved about you and more, infuriating Bakugo and making Kaminari jealous.
You didn't mean to eavesdrop, really! Well, not at first. Buuut... your pretty little boyfriend mentioned your name in his conversation with the Bakusquad, and you couldn't help it. You stood quietly outside of your home office— the only place in the house you allowed Hanta to smoke —and leaned as close to the door as you dared.
"She's just so perfect," you broke into a smile at Sero's words.
"Will you stop bragging about y/n-chan?" Kaminari groaned dramatically from within the room, "I almost can't take it anymore! You know that I like her. Stop making me jealous on purpose because I can't have her!"
Your eyes widened slightly at Kaminari's words. He did? Since when? Well, that was a silly thing to think; Kami has probably had a crush on everyone in high school at one point or another. But the fact that he just admitted it to Hanta was straight-up bold.
"Yeah I know," you heard Sero smirk, "ever since you've heard about her magic mouth you've wanted a piece."
"-wha? Wrong. I've had a crush on her longer than that!" Kaminari argued. You could hear Mina in the back cracking up.
"Will you two shut up?!" Bakugo yelled, rattling the door. "Every fucking time I'm here is all 'y/n this' and 'y/n that' ok we gET IT, THE TWO OF YOU ARE IN LOVE WITH HER!"
You stood in their silence for a moment, trying to process that holy shit, the Mega-Virgin Kaminari has a crush on you, even before you sucked Hanta off for the first time! What was happening?
"K'mon, bro," Kirishima chided, and you heard the slap of his hand land on Bakugo's back. "Chill out, take another hit. Y/n-san might pop in if she hears too much noise."
"Whatever, 'tch," Bakugo huffed, "kinda wanna go home anyway, you nerds don't have anything interesting to talk about."
You quietly hurried away to your shared bedroom at the sound of footsteps, pretending that you hadn't just heard Hanta openly talk about your 'magic mouth', and Kaminari's confession. You could still feel the flustered blush on your cheeks as Kirishima and Bakugo walked down the hall to the front door, the latter grumbling about "those damn nerds".
"Wait, guys," Mina called to them, "I don't want to be stuck with those love-sick idiots!"
After Kiri offered to buy the pink girl an Uber home and the front door was shut, all you could hear was the muffled conversation a room over. You snuck back to the office door, and pressed your ear against it.
"-s-stop!" You heard Kaminari stutter.
"Never! It's so fun to make you flustered over my girl," you playfully shook your head at Hanta's words. Typical Sero move.
It was silent for a few minutes, broken soon after with a, "dude! What the hell?" From Hanta.
"I- it's- it's your fault!" Kaminari retorted, apparently spinning around in the squeaky office chair.
"You-," Sero burst out laughing, "you got hard just from me talking about her! Bet it was the part I told you when y/n and I were at that one restaurant-."
"S-shut up!" Kaminari squeaked.
Your face flushed considerably pinker. Right here, right now, were two boys that were sexually attracted to you on the other side of the door. You felt your stomach flip and twist in excitement at the new feeling.
"It's kinda cute that you're so into her," you heard Hanta tease. "You're always a blushing mess, and just stuttering over your words."
"Damn S-sero," Denki said grouchily, "stop making fun of me."
You couldn't help but press your ear completely against the door, the two boys inside were too high to notice the shadow under the door anyway. Was Hanta... Flirting?
"I'm not making fun of you," Sero paused. "I'm just calling you cute."
You drowned out the rest of their conversation with your thoughts, trying to connect dots together. Hanta was a little suspicious at times from what you could see over his shoulder. Suspicious of what, exactly? Being gay, or at least bisexual. You saw him close tabs of soft-core gay porn occasionally, and you even accidentally stumbled upon Sero's old diary from years back. You didn't worry too much about it, but now... was he suppressing his feelings? Was he about to cheat on you?
Your heart dropped at that thought. Hanta was a nice guy and he wouldn't do that to you, right? He wouldn't lie about loving you. Not after what you heard earlier. Or was that just to fluster Kaminari? You shook your head in an attempt to clear your mind, and tuned back in on the two boys.
"-AH—! Wait!" You heard Sero panic, "I didn't- I shouldn't've-!"
".. shouldn't have kissed me?" Denki squeaked quietly so you had to strain to hear.
What on Earth did you miss while you were spaced out?
"Well- I was just thinking about h-how cute you are, and I forgot that I can't kiss someone who isn't my partner!" Hanta stressed, "god why do I have to love both of you..."
Your eyebrows raised at that, and listened in a little harder. Did you hear that right? Sero had a crush on Kaminari?
Honestly you couldn't blame him when the blond was so undeniably attractive, especially with the smudged black eyeliner on the corners of his eyes and the lightning bolt streak in his hair. You wouldn't lie that you liked him a bit too, but you suppressed those feelings for Hanta.
"I- I can go if you want," Kaminari mumbled, voice cracking slightly.
"Er- if you want. I don't mind chilling with you a bit longer. Just— don't tell y/n what happened. I- I'll tell her later when I figure out what to say," Hanta said.
"You sure she won't get mad at you?" Said a concerned Denki. "I know how much you love her, and I don't want you two to break it off.."
"Weeelll," Sero dragged on nervously, "y/n is very understanding, a-and I also need to tell her a few other things anyway."
You headed towards the living room, hearing all you needed to. You honestly didn't exactly know what to think about what just happened. Hanta kissed Denki, who likes you, and you that likes Hanta who also likes Denki. What even.
You sat comfortably on the couch, watching the last of the sun meander under the horizon. You nervously tapped on your phone after playing games on it for about an hour, waiting for Kaminari to leave so you could talk with Hanta. You finally heard the office door open, and you turned your head. Sero shuffled towards you with a sleeping Denki in his arms. The blonde's mouth was wide open and snoring lightly, drool going halfway down his chin.
"Uh," Hanta said awkwardly, "help."
You giggled and jumped up from your to help your boyfriend position Kaminari on the couch, who immediately latched onto a pillow mumbling incoherently.
"Whatta dude," you stated, fists on your hips.
"Yeah..." Hanta scratched the back of his neck. "Uh, I have to talk to you about something. It's pretty serious so we can wait until later if you want."
"Nah," you shook your head, "you've seemed off lately, and I'm guessing you just need it off your chest."
"Well, if you don't mind," Hanta plopped down on the love seat. You kneeled over to lean your head on his knee as he sucked in a shaky breath. "I- Um. I- I think I'm Bi."
You nodded your head understandingly, taking his hand in yours. "Ok, baby. Thank you for telling me."
"—there is o-one more thing I-I have to confess," Sero shook, "just please don't hit or yell at me."
"I would never, baby. I'm here for you," you looked up at him encouragingly, giving him a smile.
"O-ok. Uh, I kinda, well... I kinda kissed Kami. O-on the lips," Hanta's eyes looked away from yours, floating to the floor.
"Do you regret it?" You asked, keeping a calm exterior.
"Uh- I dunno. I do because I'm with you.. but... I- I think I don't," Sero looked incredibly guilty, and he squeezed your hand, "I love you, b-but I also have a crush on him..."
"That's ok," you reassured, reaching up to turn his head back to you, "I don't mind if you want to be in a relationship with him too, separately or not."
Hanta looked incredibly surprised, and a smile split his face, "really?!"
"Yes really," you giggled, kissing his cheek. "I can share you."
Sero, being the genius he was, suggested introducing Denki into the relationship with a threesome. Totally not skipping a few steps or anything.
"Are you sure he'd be willing to do that?" You had asked. "He's a virgin to basically everything."
"Oh, he'd be willing alright," Hanta smirked. "I'll message him about it then?"
"Mhm," you nodded, "it'll be fun. We'll get to tease him."
Denki was freaking out. Actually, he was more than freaking out. He was freaking out and jerking off. Multitasking. He could not believe his eyes when he opened Sero's text message, four glorious words: 'wanna have a threesome?'
Of course, Denki had asked if his friend had been joking or not before opening up his mind to fantasies. He got off rather quickly, though who could blame him. He swore that his libido was abnormally high, because even the thought of you, (and Sero as well), would get him flustered and he would pop a boner.
The next day when he came over, his teeth brushed and pubes trimmed, he stood outside your apartment door for at least a minute before knocking. His mind would keep circling the same thoughts: 'Sero just wants you to embarrass yourself in front of her', 'he told y/n about your crush and now they want to laugh at you', 'holy fuck is this actually happening', and 'I hope Sero actually doesn't mind sharing'.
"Sup, man," Hanta grinned as he opened the door for his blushing crush, a far too casual greeting for the situation about to unfold.
"H-hey," Kaminari grinned back, shuffling inside and slipping off his shoes.
"Y/n's just making up a snack so we can chat before uh, y'know," Hanta held back his blush, already nervous because damn, did Denki put on eyeliner or something? He looked hotter than usual.
"Take a seat in the living room, I'm almost done!" You called from the kitchen as you poured one last cup of tea. You carried the tray of tea and homemade cookies to the coffee table, and sat yourself down on the love seat. You couldn't lie— you were nervous as shit at the moment. You looked up as Hanta led a very flustered and anxious Kaminari behind him, and you gave a comforting wave.
"H-hi," Kaminari squeaked, sitting himself on the couch in front of you. He rubbed the sweat off his hands on his pants, trying to avoid your gaze.
"Hey!" You greeted kindly with a smile.
"Alright so now what," Hanta stated, plopping himself beside Denki only looking slightly nervous.
"We discuss boundaries!" You said cheerfully. You reached over for your cup and took a sip. "Any hard no's?"
"Kaminari's not fucking you," Hanta crossed his arms. "Not yet, I want it to be more special than this..."
Denki choked on his drink, sputtering on his tea.
"Kami, any hard no's?" you steered.
"U-uh not right now," the electric blond stuttered, eyeing Sero nervously.
"Ok great!" You exclaimed, clapping your hands together, "the safe word Hanta and I use is 'soy sauce'."
"That's two-."
"Yeah same difference," you waved Kaminari off. "Anyway, my hard no's are just don't hit me, don't degrade me, and don't choke me out."
The two boys nodded anxiously.
"Holy fuck," Denki muttered as he watched Sero kiss your lips, palming his dick through his jeans. He admired your half undressed state as he feverishly threw off his T-shirt.
Without looking, Hanta held out his hand in a 'come hither' motion, and Kaminari steered over to his friend. Sero pulled away from you for a moment, guiding Denki's shaky hands to your bare waist. Once the two of you continued kissing, Kaminari hugged your waist closer and kissed the side of your neck. Your encouraging moans excited him, and he kissed your skin harder.
Denki's hips couldn't help but rut against your backside, drawing out a soft groan from him. He peered his head up to Sero, who turned to give him a gentle kiss, and Kaminari could feel your saliva on his lips. You turned to face the blonde, leaning forwards to propose a kiss. Denki filled the gap quickly, and met your lips with his. It was a messy kiss, but neither you nor Kami cared. You heard Hanta grumble in your ear, nipping at the cartilage carefully.
Honestly, Denki thought he was being spoiled rotten. You were so soft in his arms, and he swore he could stay like this forever. Sero's nimble fingers snuck to the back of your bra and quickly unclasped it, making Denki suck in a jittery breath.
"Hmmh," you sighed as Hanta cupped your breasts gently, waiting for Denki to desperately ask for a turn.
"You can touch her, Denks," Sero chuckled, leaning over and kissing his friend again.
Denki mumbled into the kiss, and shakily moved to grasp your tits from behind. His cock couldn't help but twitch in his pants as he massaged your nipples softly, his lips still locked with Hanta's. Kami pulled back with a gasp, strings of saliva still attaching them.
"Oh so good," Denki whined as he humped your ass, breathing heavily into your ear.
"Mmm, Denki~ take your pants off for us, won't you?" You licked your lips and watched as Kaminari hobbled out of his skinny jeans.
He looked at you with wide eyes as you sat on your bed, with Sero following suit. Denki moaned when the two of you started making out again, and nervously edged closer to the bed. You smiled at him encouragingly and reached out a hand to play with the elastic of his boxers. A whimper left his throat as you trailed a finger up his clothed shaft, and he eyed Hanta guilty.
"It's ok!" The smiling man replied, helping you get into a better position. "Let loose a little, dude."
Denki wasn't sure he could do that since you were slowly pulling down the hem of his underwear, his cock springing up to slap his stomach before standing straight out. He slipped down his boxers and kicked them away, having full attention on you and your beautiful e/c eyes.
Hanta was massaging your ass cheeks as Denki experienced your mouth for the first time, and he pulled down your panties, (which were soaked, by the way). You moaned against Kami's cock as Sero rubbed the inside of your thighs with his warm hands, causing Denki to let out a lewd groan. His eyes kept switching from you, to Sero, and back to you again.
"So wet for me, y/n," Hanta mumbled, "if I knew you were into this stuff I would've invited Kami over earlier."
You hummed in response, too busy indulging yourself with Denki's dick. You enjoyed making him squirm in his stance, licking over the glans of his cock and the underside of his shaft. You swore you could see his eyes start to water up.
Kaminari was wide eyed as he watched Hanta strip out of his briefs and give himself a few pumps. Denki's mouth opened in a silent moan when Sero lined up to your entrance and slowly inched inside, letting out a low groan when he bottomed out. You hummed diligently on the cock you were sucking and grabbed Denki's hand to put on your head, letting him grasp your hair like reins.
The electric blond babbled quietly as he watched Hanta pump into you, forcing Denki's cock further down your throat. The way your mouth contracted around him made Denki's legs shake, and he got red in the face trying to keep his hands from urging your head deeper.
"You look like you're having a good time, Denks," Sero commented as he admired the blonde's teary eyes. His hips rolled forwards in a new rhythm and you griped pleasantly as you fisted the sheets under you.
"Fuuuck yeah," Kaminari grumbled, catching up with his friend's rhythm. He was over the moon, and was just trying not to cum prematurely so he could enjoy this moment longer.
"Don't be afraid to fuck her face," Hanta said smugly, repositioning his hands on your hips. "She loves choking on cock, ain't that right beautiful?"
You wept in agreement, looking up at Denki with soft, pleading eyes. You bobbed your head faster in his loose grasp, gagging and sputtering on spit and precum. The man above you groaned with satisfaction and fisted your hair and forced his dick deeper into your tight throat. His thrusts came in a perfect rhythm with Sero's, and whenever you moved, you were getting impaled from either end.
Your limbs shook as you struggled to breathe with the cock in your mouth, and your pussy clenched around Hanta desperately. You felt tears stream down your cheeks as you sobbed for breath, enjoying every moment. You nearly squealed as Sero pressed a vibrator against your clit, and your vision fuzzed a bright white.
"Gonna cum, baby?" Hanta egged on, panting for oxygen. "C'mere Den, kiss me."
You whined loudly as you heard the two men kissing above you, and your stomach tightened and rolled around pleasantly. You gurgled on Denki's cock as you came, pussy pulsing with need and delight.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Kaminari moaned in tune with his thrusts, so close to the edge that you could practically taste his cum already.
"Oh shit, y/n. You're so— tigHT," Hanta groaned as he rutted against you one more time before you felt his warm cum fill your insides.
Right on cue, Denki hit his peak right after Sero, moaning about how good your mouth felt and how hot you were, "god, Hanta, she looks so fucking good like this."
Denki let out a choked whine as he finally let his orgasm take over his body, and he held your head in place as his semen ran down your throat. You choked it down before Kami pulled away, and you opened your mouth to reveal strings of saliva and cum.
"Holy fucking shit," Denki said, exasperated, "I feel like I'm not gonna go soft for a week."
"You alright, my love?" Hanta said softly as he let you fall onto your chest, ass still up.
"Hell yeah," you mumbled, your voice scratchy and sore from being face-fucked. You watched Kami stand awkwardly as Sero wiped you down with a warm cloth, taking care between your thighs.
"Denki, go get some water please," Hanta instructed as he rolled you over. "You did so good, baby. The best."
You hummed softly in response, already feeling your eyes flutter sleepily. Kaminari held out a straw to you, and you sucked down the cool substance thankfully.
"That was the best blowjob ever," Denki sighed happily, watching Hanta scoop out the cum from your cunt.
"It was your only blowjob, Kami," you mumbled teasingly, a soft smirk on your face.
You felt yourself drift into a calm state, and you could only hear the muffled voices of your boyfriend, and... your other boyfriend? You fell into a comforting, dreamless sleep, and you knew that Denki would make a great addition to your relationship.
#Kaminari Denki#kaminari denki x reader#denki kaminari#denki kaminari smut#denki kaminari x sero hanta#denki kaminari x reader x sero hanta#Sero Hanta#sero hanta x reader#hanta sero#hanta sero x reader#mha#mha fanfiction#mha x reader#bnha#bnha fanfiction#anime
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Love Chocolates
Pairing: Han Jisung x fem! reader
Genre: NSFW! Smut; established relationship
Warning: Mature content! (DNI if you are uncomfortable or UNDERAGED); language, food (should that even be considered a warning??) mentions of (implied lovers) members (Changlix), use of aphrodisiac stimulants, dry humping (f), masterbation (m), PIV, unprotected sex, cream pie, mentions of multiple rounds.
A/n: yup. i finally decided to post the fic about tiktok chocolates i mentioned before (in my minho smut). this has been in my drafts for a while actually lol
“No. Absolutely not.”
“But whyyy?” Jisung whined, shaking your arm. “It’ll be good! I promise!” He sticks out this pinky, wiggling it with a tiny pout. You sighed at him, maneuvering his hand away from your face.
“They’re just some dumb viagra knockoffs that probably don’t even work, Ji,” you argued, “how do you even know they’ll work?”
“Felix and Bin tried them!”
You looked at him, subtly prompting him to continue. He, however, only stood silently with an expectant look.
“Aaand...?”
Your boyfriend’s face then contorted into a look of sheepishness. “Well, uh, they didn’t exactly tell me if it was good or not...” he replied, fiddling his fingers.
“What.”
“But! But, judging by the pervy looks on their faces when I asked about them, I think it’s pretty safe to say that they had a good time!”
You let out a deep exhale, yet again, pinching the bridge of your nose. “May I ask, how did they even find out about those ‘sex chocolates’?”
“Tiktok!”
What the fuck.
Why would Jisung think that this’ll help spice up your sex life? Your sex life is great, which is what you’re assuming both of you agree on. You both get aroused regularly and normally, so what’s the point?
“But what if they don’t even work and they’re just fucking around with you, Ji? Then you just spent $30 for nothing,” you said.
“I mean, I wouldn’t say “for nothing”. They’re still chocolate! So we’d still be winning!” he reasoned.
“Okay, but, why do we even need them? We already fuck like rabbits on a daily, so what’s the difference if we do take the aphrodisiac chocolates?”
“That, my lovely, sexy, sweet girlfriend, is the fun part!” he said with a impish grin.
Uh oh. He had a proposition, and you’re not really thrilled to hear it. You knew there was a catch to all this. “The game is, we both have to take two- one to make us mindblowingly horny and another to boost up our libido- and see how long it’ll take for us to snap!”
You didn’t say anything. You merely gave him a look, as if you were saying “really?”
“Come on, it’ll be fun, babe!” Jisung jumped, excitedly. “Pleeeaaase~?” He shook you around for a bit before you finally submitted to his pleas.
“Okay, okay. Fine. I’ll do it.”
“YES! I LOVE YOU!” Jisung beamed. He spun you around and kissed you. Even though you wanted to be mad at him, you just can’t. Jisung was just too cute to resist.
“Yeah yeah, now hand me two of those placebo chocolates, you horny motherfucker.”
He snickered, turing around to hand you the chocolates on the coffee table. Giving them to you, you tore one open to eat. You made disgusted look after tasting the first one.
“Ew,” you complained, “mint chocolate.”
“Hey, no mint chocolate slander in this household! Or else i’ll have no choice but to break up with you.”
“Shut up and eat yours already!”
- Timeskip ⏰ -
It’s been almost 30 minutes and the chocolates still haven’t kicked in yet. You grumbled, checking your phone again for the time.
“You said it just takes about 15 minutes for the effects to kick in,” you whined, turning to Jisung, who sat on the other loveseat on your left. “What gives?”
“I don’t know!” he said, raising both his hands up. “Give it more time. Maybe it might work a little different for some people.”
You groaned. Wanting to lay down, you grabbed the longer pillow that was on the otherwise to the couch to wrap around your legs. Instead of feeling comfortable, you felt a numbing ache in between them. All of a sudden, you felt hyper aware of the heat in the room (and in your vagina).
You tried moving yourself around to ignore the pain, which ended up being a terrible idea for it made you even more needier. You let out a small whimper, and of course, Jisung heard it.
“Y/n? Baby, are you okay?” he asked worriedly. You shook your head ‘no’ then looked at him.
“I can feel it, Ji,” you whimpered with glossy eyes. He knew exactly what you were referring to. He was going to stand up and check on you but he felt a familiar shock down his dick at the sight of your needy expression. He instead lead back further into the seat, digging his hands onto the armrest.
Fuck.
He wanted to go to you so bad to please each other. But of course he remembered about the game you two established. So all he could do is watch helplessly as you grounded against your pillow.
“Hm, fuck. Ji,” you whimpered, trying to grind harder into the pillow. But it wasn’t enough. Thanks to the sex chocolates, it made you even more sensitive but harder to satisfy. Seeing how humping your pillow isn’t enough, your dominant hand trailed down between your legs and into your panties. You rubbed gentle circles onto your clip at first, making you cry out and bury your face into the pillow.
Jisung squirmed in his seat, watching you fling your panties off your legs while your hand rubs harsher circles onto your clit, your hips moving at the stimulation. Not bringing able to handle it anymore, his right hand went into his shorts to pull out his penis to stroke it. His head fell back, finally feeling relief. “Hmm. Fucking shit...” he moaned, bucking his hips. He bit the bottom of his thin lips, pumping faster. However, just like you, it wasn’t enough to fully satisfy him as well.
“Ji-Jisung,” you weakly called out to him, looking up at him again. You had tears in your eyes from the sexual frustration. “Fuck, it hurts. I-it doesn’t feel as good. Want your fingers instead.”
“Fuck,” he mumbled. He stood up abruptly, dick still out, and walked to where you were. He hovered above you as he removed your hands from your pussy- right as you were about to finger yourself, sucking on your fingers. You whined, both from the lost of simulation on your clit and from Jisung sucking your slick from your fingers.
He unlatched your fingers with a string of saliva still connect itself to them and kissed you roughly, shoving his tongue into our mouth, making you moan. You enjoy the lewdness of the kiss; his tongue massaging yours, having a faint taste of yourself. He pulled away from your sweet lips and removed his shorts and underwear. He pumped himself a few time while kissing you.
“Want my cock, baby?”
You nodded your head, pouting. “Please fuck me, Sungie,” you panted. “Need you so bad.”
“Hmm. Shit,” he exhaled sharply, inserting himself into your wet cavern. The two of you moan simultaneously. Jisung gave you a minute to adjust before thrusting slowly. You whimpered at the pace he was going, deeming that it was too slow for your unbearably horny self. You wrapped your arms around his back, grinding your hips further into his, making Jisung throw his head back with a loud moan.
Getting your silent plea, he moved his hips in a deliciously fast pace. You arched your back, relieved that you were finally feeling the numbing pleasure you craved. Jisung leaned down, breathing heavily into your ear while you gave quiet moans and whimpers of your own. Filthy slaps and other unholy noises filled the room. With each thrust, his hips moved faster and harder, pushing you closer to the edge.
“Holy f-fuck, baby,” Jisung moaned, “I’m so close.”
“M-me too,” you slurred. Your eyes were shut tight as you felt your core clench tighter and tighter around Jisung’s cock. He thrusted into you a few more times before releasing his semen inside of you, letting out a few choked moans. Feeling his hot cum fill you up pushed you to your own release, your body spasming as you do. Jisung rocked his hips a little, riding out your highs, before finally pulling out, his cum slowly dripping out of you.
Out of exhaustion, your boyfriend collapsed on top of you, his face buried in between your breasts. You stroked his hair out of comfort before remembering about the deal that was made prior.
You giggled, “Hey, Ji? What happened to ‘seeing how long it’ll take til one of us snaps’?”
Jisung laughed while shaking his head. “Fuck that. We both know that it would’ve been me to give in first no matter what.”
You laughed, your chest shaking his head, kissing the top of his head. You cuddled for a while before feeling the ache between your legs come back again.
Luckily, you weren’t the only one. “Uh...Y/n?”
“MmHmm?”
“My -uh- dick is hard again...”
“...”
“Wanna go for another round?” he said, moving to look at you. You sat up instantly, removing his shirt before taking off your own. You kissed Jisung’s lips roughly, moving to sit on his lap. It’s safe to say that the sex chocolates do actually work, and pretty damn well too.
You might have to thank Felix and Changbin for recommending them to Sungie later.
#stray kids#skz#skz scenarios#stray kids scenarios#stray kids fanfic#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#stray kids smut#han jisung smut#han jisung scenarios#han jisung oneshot
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delicacies of the season (m)
part 3: days apart
note: hey!! What’s up!! first, I officially have named this series!! it’s right up there for ur viewing glory! ok anyway here’s something before I disappear for the next four weeks because I am drowning in school!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also just a side thingie for this story: I’ve already established that oc isn’t on birth control but here I’m implying that they’re doing natural planning (i.e. fertility awareness where the person who menstruates keeps up with their cycle and thus only has sex when their cycles allows for it). PLEASE DO NOT DO THIS UNLESS YOU KNOW THE RISKS!!!!!!!! Oh Lord putting your impregnation chances up to God?! I couldn’t do it. But also this is fanfiction and nothing bad will happen to this couple so let’s all just... suspend disbelief for a second ok
PAIRING. taehyung/reader
GENRE. romance, farmer au
RATED. M
WORD COUNT. 2.5k
WARNINGS. kitchen sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, a good ol’ creampie bc wot is the ubemango experience without one :/
SUMMARY. Taehyung missed you.
Auntie Gaeul comes over when the rooster crows to tell you to check out the passion fruits today. They’re ripe not because she’s seen them but because she just knows. Call it the Elder Instinct for Ripened Foods. You tell her you’ll give her half the harvest, and she swats at you before she leaves.
“Stop being so polite, I’m not that old,” she spits in jest. “And make some of that honey iced tea your grandma makes. If there’s extra, then I’ll have some.”
Taehyung would probably like some, too; he chugs down anything with passion fruit like he’s about to go into hibernation. And when you come back home from the fields with a basket-full perched heavy on your back, you resolve to make some tea right away to bring over to his house to see if he’s there. You haven’t seen him in five days—his cousin had the stomach flu, and his aunt needed the extra help with tending to the livestock. Being the eldest nephew (and the only one who can drive a motorcycle) had him obligated right from the get-go.
“Grandma! Can you show me where you put the honey jars, I can’t remember where they are. And can you help me peel these—um. You’re not Grandma,” you stop.
Taehyung looks up from where he’s perched on the stairs of your awning, flicking bits of strawberries to the ground for Danbi to eat. Your little puppy scrounges it up so fast she nearly falls over on her fluffy bum.
“I told her to go play bingo with the rest of the granny crew, someone’s betting chicken feet,” he says. You smile wide when he trods over to you for a short kiss, slipping the strap of the basket off your shoulder to put on his. The hand he keeps low on your back is as warm as the ten AM sun. “Hi. I missed you.”
“I was just gonna go see if you were home,” you say. He smells like the wind. Something you’d scrunch your nose at but he makes it work. “When d’you come back? How’s Daeshim now?”
“An hour ago. And he’s better. He ate up all your ice cream, only thing he could keep down.”
You frown. “Poor baby.”
“I know. You gonna clean these now?” He nods his head toward the water basin, carved rock he’d installed for you on your third anniversary.
“Yeah. Can you start? I’ll just wash up quick,” you offer. Suddenly you’re aware you’ve got an ugly shirt with oil stains and holes in random places—nothing Taehyung minds, but the occasion probably deserves better.
“Got it, boss,” Taehyung says. He slaps your ass before you run to the bathroom. A familiar signal of his intentions but he’s too polite to bring it up so quickly.
“Hey!”
“Hurry up,” he calls. As if you’re going to take another five days to get back to him but you get it. You missed him, too; a little more than you’d like to let on. Your grandma is great company but she watches her TV too loud and she hates when you’re not there to sit with her because she might need your help switching channels. It’s a miracle you didn’t jump Taehyung the second your eyes landed on him.
You change into whatever shirt you’ve tossed on the floor that looks semi-presentable. It’s too early for your sweat to reek like it does under the afternoon heat, but you spritz some perfume on your neck anyway. Just for upkeep, because you’d be lying if you said you weren’t anticipating sex, a sloppy makeout session at the least. Danbi’s too hyper to be left alone, plus your grandma likes making surprise visits at your house because she’s a forgetful woman.
By the time you’ve come back from scrubbing the dirt and dead ant bits caked under your nails, Taehyung’s a third of the way through the basket, tossing the clean passion fruit into a bucket Danbi is trying so hard to climb into. She yelps when her fat paws slip at the edges.
“Danbi! Mama’s gonna be mad if you get hurt. I’ll give you some later.”
“Go play with your toy,” you call out to her. “Danbi! Go!”
Her ears perk up at your command, and she pants and pants till she decides to go in the complete opposite direction of the ball and into the patch where all the potatoes are. She hasn’t hit her teething phase so you’re safe from her snuffing anything out with her mouth. It’s her fur you worry about. She’s such a nice shade of white amongst the semi-wet dirt, it almost hurts seeing her get soiled.
“Like a little cotton ball,” Taehyung says. He points to the bucket. “This good?”
You nod—it’s enough to have extra for Auntie Gaeul. “Yeah. Wanna carry it to the kitchen like a good man?”
“As if I’m not one already,” he snorts, grabbing the handle. “Danbi, come!”
This is how it always goes. Taehyung ogles from over your shoulder (usually he’s off to the side but he’s a lot clingier, not that you mind) while you do your business because you don’t trust him with a knife. Not since the time you’d tasked him with chopping garlic and he’d nearly sliced his palm open when he tried crushing them first.
And now you’ve got a new addition to the routine: Danbi sniffs around the dried leaves for the fire, sneezing when she breathes the ash in too hard. You hear her collar jiggle as she explores the earthenware stacked on the side. You made sure Taehyung left the door open because she gets antsy fast.
“Can I just say that I have a thing for seeing you use a knife,” Taehyung says, hands stroking your tummy because he’s got nothing better to do.
“You’re really bad at hiding how turned on you are.”
“Who said I was trying to hide?”
You laugh. “What are you trying to get at, mister?”
“I’m saying I missed you,” he says simply.
“So that’s why you kicked Grandma out the house,” you tease. Taehyung splutters in your ear.
“No! They really are betting chicken feet. What do you think I am?”
“Horny.”
“Ugh.”
You turn your focus back to the chopping board. Taehyung lets the sound of the knife smooth down the goop of the insides fill the space.
“...Are you mad if I am?” He whispers tentatively.
“Oh my god. It’s ten in the morning.”
“You think my dick cares?”
“You think I care?” you joke.
Taehyung gasps. Like his heart just shattered from your vitriol, but all you want is to finish cutting up these damn fruits before you’ll allow his hands to touch you. “Wow. You—? Okay, fine.”
“Wha—”
“I appreciate your hard work,” he coos. He wraps himself around you even tighter, traces a slow kiss on your neck. “Really. But don’t pretend you didn’t miss me too.”
“I never said I didn’t.”
“You’ve got a fucking mouth on you.”
And that gets you to shut up. Taehyung only swears when he wants you to stop talking. Not for the sake of real anger but to show you he’s got something brewing, and you’re here to take whatever it is he’s about to give you.
“I just wanted to be a good fiance and visit the one I love the most after five days because I missed them so much.”
His teeth catch the lobe of your ear. Biting down softly because he’s still aware you’ve got the knife in your hand, but you’ve lost all motor skills the second he started his little bit. You drop the handle slowly. At the last second you push all the shit you’ve laid out on the counter to the farthest corner. Something tells you this space is being defiled this morning.
“Good. Are you wet?”
“N-No.”
“Then we’ll have to do something about that, huh.”
You watch his hands glide up, and you’re half-expecting him to fondle you gently, the way he teases you when you think he’s taking it slow. But instead he goes right for the kill: using those long fingers to pinch right at your tits just to get you to gasp into the feeling. You roll your eyes shut, let your head fall back on his shoulder.
“You like that?”
“Mhm,” you whine.
“Take your shirt off for me.”
You’ve never exposed yourself to kitchen utensils and rice wine on the pantry shelves before but Taehyung makes you want it. He shows his appreciation for your compliance with another hard grope of his hands, this time with his mouth sucking on your neck too. Craving your skin like he’s been absolutely deprived. The calluses on his fingertips rub your nipples raw.
“You smell good,” he croons. “Come here.”
You nearly tip over from how fast he spins you around, but he catches you easy, tongue on yours in the next second. The desperate tug of his lips on yours, the smack of your spit when he pulls you in deeper, all the intricacies of needing someone else to save your own sanity—it culminates here, and now your ass is up on the cold of the counter, Taehyung pulling back from one last kiss to drag that same heat down your body.
“Please let me eat you out here, holy shit.” He tugs at your pants, slides your underwear down with it. Mouthing hungry at your mound because you haven’t answered him yet, so you just groan a quick please, yes and he doesn’t even look at you before he presses his tongue inside you.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, the guilt of ruining this space with your (embarrassingly) uncontrolled libido is raging. But you could care less with the way Taehyung swipes his tongue around your clit, gets you clawing at his hair for brief respite. You’ve most definitely exceeded wet boundaries. His chin practically shines.
And he knows it’s because of him. Not just from his mouth but the knowledge that he wants you trembling towards a heady orgasm, the kind that consumes you whole. His laving gets bolder with every stroke, every moan you try to keep stifled but it’s useless. “Taehyung. Oh my g-od, fuck—no d-don’t use your fingers, I’ll come.”
He laughs, adjusts your thighs so you’re not cramping. “Think you’ll tap out?”
“I wanna come on your dick,” you pants.
“Oh my god,” he groans. “You’re perfect. Oh my god. I’m so fucking hard. Can I come inside you?”
“Yes yes yes yes, just get inside me already.”
Taehyung’s foot gets caught on his pants when he shoves them off, nearly crashing face first into your pussy again. And he laughs and you snort and when he’s naked waist-down he kisses you again, a little slower this time, a breather for just a moment.
“I know it’s only been five days but I missed you. A lot.”
You trap his hips with locked ankles on his back. “I know.”
“It’s just—I had to shovel so much horse shit—”
“Oh don’t say that!” You bat at his chest.
Taehyung snickers. “Sorry. Ahh, I don’t know what to do with myself.”
“You can stick your dick inside me and we can go from there,” you suggest.
“I like the way you think, missus.”
It’s almost laughable when he sinks right in. No resistance, just the slick of your arousal and his spit, an unholy mixture for this thick sacrilege. Taehyung’s eyes stay locked on the sight.
“Fuck yeah. Oh baby…”
If it’s got him uttering curses this early in the round then you’re definitely worse off. You’ve got one profanity for every inch he’s claimed inside you, all lined up behind your teeth but you don’t have the brain capacity to get them out. He fucks you straight to incoherence.
Your delirium keeps you mum. Taehyung will make up for it. He slots his hand up the back of your thighs, hits deeper when you arch through the pleasure. “Holy fuck that’s so good,” you whine. “Taehyung—oh god.”
He doesn’t say anything. Just pants hard with every moan you’ll give him, and you watch the sweat glow on his collarbone, the thick of his neck. Places you claim with your mouth when you lean forward because it’s too hard to keep balance without his gravity.
Taehyung breaks when you bite. “Sh-it. Oh fuck you’re so hot. ‘M not gonna last, shit.”
“You’ll fuck me when you come?” you plead, hold his gaze. He’s just as gone as you are. “You’ll fuck your cum inside me?”
“Yeah baby. I’ll give it to you. So fuckin’ good.”
He never lets up. Just keeps that steady fucking, stiff with every drive into your slick till he adjusts your knees with one push. Pussy open to the angle that gets you begging for his thumb on your clit because it’s right there. You fall back on your hands, no steady grip because Taehyung’s faltering too.
“Oh—!” You flutter your eyes shut to pending ecstasy. “Tae—please—harder—right there right there don’t stop!”
“You gonna come for me?”
It’s a rhetorical question. You know he sees the way your chest collapses, the rub of your clit in quick gestures for your high. He’s got you right in his hand.
“Fuck—ohhh yes!”
“Ugh,” he whines. It’s nearly lost to the ringing in your ears, the clench of your pussy from his pounding. You cream him so good when the orgasm’s strong enough, pulsing hot, the rough intensity. And that’s not lost on him when he cries: “God your pussy’s so wet. Holy shit.”
Usually you’re spent by the time your vision’s cleared to the sight of Taehyung fucking you through it. But he’s promised you something, and you’re greedy for it.
“Come inside me,” you urge, guiding a hand through his hair, pulling hard at his nape. He keeps his eyes on his dick priming you for those final strokes.
“I’ll fucking come,” he snaps. “You ready? I’ll come so good for you baby. Come so fucking—good—!”
He stiffens with a shout, grinds his teeth, lets his orgasm splash inside with so much heat you mewl. And he keeps minimal movement, thrust for soft thrust because it’s too much with the squeezing you tease him with.
“I.” Taehyung clears his throat, panting to a stop. “I… wow.”
Your ass is rubbed raw against the counter. But you’ll risk it again to see the glint in his eye when he pulls out and watches his cum drip down your hole, onto the floor for you to clean when your legs aren’t jelly.
“Wow,” you repeat.
“Do… Am I… Am I ovulating?” He looks genuinely confused. “I don’t… I’ve never been that horny before.”
You snort. “Five days felt like forever, huh.”
Taehyung kisses you slow. “If it means we get to fuck like that again then I’m going to the city for a month.”
“Hey!” You pinch his arm, using his bicep to stand up, tiptoeing around the mess on the floor. “God. Help me clean up here, please. And where’s the dog?”
(Danbi sleeps peacefully in the wicker basket, head lolled on one of the passion fruits. You make sure to bring her over to Auntie Gaeul’s for extra snacks.)
#bts smut#taehyung smut#v smut#bts scenarios#taehyung scenarios#v scenarios#ubemango fic#f: farmer!tae series#f: delicacies of the season
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As The Rush Comes (Ikémen Vampire Theodorus Van Gogh x Reader)
Summary: You are at a nightclub with your friend Theodorus Van Gogh. The problem is, you want to be more than friends. Does he feel the same? Hell yes. Change is bound to happen. And it does. This one-shot was inspired by the song As the Rush Comes.
Read all 3 parts on AO3.
Rating: Mature (explicit/coarse language, detailed mention of sexual acts)
Tags: Modern AU, mutual pining, sexual tension/frustration, jealousy, dirty dancing.
Warning: mention of the reader not remembering the events of a past night of heavy drinking and partying.
Word Count: 3500 approx.
Club Music Playlist
*Kiss you by Nadia Ali
**Down to Love (Kyau & Albert Remix) by Armin Van Buuren feat. Ana Criado
***Still I Wait (Richard Durand’s In Search of Sunrise Remix) by Jonas Steur feat. Jennifer Rene.
Song lyrics are in bold; look at this asterisks to know which song is playing in the background and play the song as you read
--------------------------
*I'd wake up, and make love to you if I had you, I would touch you so much, but I'm not allowed to…
Nadia Ali, bless her heart, was only adding salt to your wounds. You were already feeling salty enough for feeling the way you did and she didn’t make it any better. Why were you salty? While the song went on and on about how the vocalist just needed to wait for the perfect moment to kiss the one she wanted to show love to, you were here lamenting pathetically over Theodorus Van Gogh, the man that occupied your every waking thought and dream… and most recent fantasies.
The music was thrumming loudly in your ears, the discographies selected by this particular local DJ was always to your liking. The rhythmic beat of trance sending the club-goers into an ephemeral state of rapture as the dancefloor flocked with writhing bodies, the scent of alcohol, sweat and sex heady in the air. Were people living in some sort of state of drought? The thirst was real… and so palpable. You were not one to judge, you felt it too.
Thud… Thud… Thud…
Was that the music or your pulse? You couldn’t tell anymore.
Would you pretend, we're only friends, if I kissed you, At least I can dream of you in a scene, when I'd kiss you.
You’ve dreamed of so many scenes, in so many different locations and in all of them, you were in the most compromising situations and positions. Holy fuck, just thinking about how those icy blue eyes staring into you while he lazily ran his tongue over his swollen lips, the ones you wanted to kiss and bite so damn much, that chiseled body of his positioned between your… No.. No… You told yourself you wouldn’t go there but your mind couldn’t help but wander. The song had just been coaxing you to act on your impulses and you covered your ears, just to keep Nadia from tempting you more than you already were.
How many months has it been since the incident?
The office hottie, Arthur Conan Doyle, had thrown an extravagant birthday bash in his so-called crib, and to your own surprise, the man had exquisite taste and the entire thing was planned immaculately. Who had been his wingman during the entire process? The hot mister that was your companion at the club for the night. That was how, when and where you met him, much to your dismay.
You heard that things had gotten hot and heavy between you during that birthday party and you were literally flung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried into Arthur’s bedroom. Things had gotten that heated… However, big emphasis on the word “heard” cause you unfortunately don’t remember jackshit from that fateful night and cursed yourself all the time for this.
His hands roughly groping you and his lips fiercely crashing down on yours… The things that could’ve happened… The things you could’ve done… You could ONLY imagine. Imagine, yes. Remember, no. The heavens indisputably had some mocking plot to make you miserable. Miserable? You definitely were. After that night, you were thrown into the friendzone. With a capital F.
Pining after a man that wouldn’t lay a finger on you unless it was to ruffle your hair like some puppy. You almost got your chance at some type of romance in your uneventful life… Still, things only got interesting when that asshole suddenly showed up, but it wasn’t like you were actually willing to admit that to him. You’d rather swallow his… Brain and heart, focus. Libido and hormones, get the fuck away.
He wants me… He wants me not… I want everything he’s got.
Shut it, Nadia. You were already drowning in heaps of doubt and you’ve clearly… clearly had enough of her feeding you more fantasies and unlawful and excessively unadulterated thoughts and you were doubting yourself already. And what you decided to do? Drink yourself into oblivion, accompanied by the vexing perpetrator who had just gotten back from the men’s room.
It was admiration and pining time for you. As he slowly approached you with long and sure strides, Theodorus was, is and will always be probably the most gorgeous, handsome piece of eye-candy that you’ve ever laid your eyes on and you were 99.99% sure that this statement was your true and unbiased opinion.
Beige dress pants hugged the length of those legs that carried him, giving you the chance to drool over the definition of his stature that you could see thanks to the tightness of the fabric, emphasizing a bit too much for your liking on his… No, don’t go there. Heat flooded your reddened cheeks as your thoughts scrambled wildly in your mind as he found his seat next to you.
That’s always where you found yourselves. Together. Always. You get along so well. It’s bound to be this way, right?
The string of fate and the butterflies of time managed to find a way to bring you together. While your internal ruminations besieged your mind, a rich baritone touched your ears, unmistakably his. “We probably should leave soon. I don’t want to suffocate in this clothed orgy.” You shot him an inquisitive look, silently asking him to elaborate on his point. “You look like you’re about to melt in that pretty little dress of yours, Hondje. I’d rather hop to any pub or have a drink at that klootzak’s place and deal with his moaning than this. At least his place isn’t as filthy as this hellish kennel.”
“You talk like an old man, Theo. Why don’t we just try to live a little?” He simply gave you a glare, a response that you knew very well. He wasn’t going to waste his breath on such mundane frivolities. It seemed that you would have to take the drinking party elsewhere. Clubs were clearly not Theo’s favourite destination.
You couldn’t help but giggle at this man’s dog analogies. As much as they pissed the shit out of you… Wait. Rewind. Did he just compliment what you were wearing...? He noticed?
For the first time in a while, you decided to try “letting loose” and go for something different. You would usually go for something, more like, anything black but today was different. In celebration of whatever weird feeling and eccentricity that came over you, you decided to go for a skimpy off-the-shoulder purple dress that kissed every curve of your luscious form, barely reaching the top of your mid-thigh and pushed your bosom in a way that accentuated your cleavage. You felt hot and you wanted to feel hot too.
**It's down to love tonight, This is where we are, As we turn into the light, Let’s make it last...
On any other day, Down to Love would’ve been one of your favourite songs to listen to but definitely not today. You were clearly not down to any kind of love. This is not where you wanted to be and you didn’t want this to last. You growled under your breath, enough to have Theodorus, the man of the hour… no, he was the man of your every-fucking-day and your every-goddamn-dream and fantasy, tilt his head to the side to cast a judging gaze at you, raising an arched eyebrow with a silent what-the-fuck is wrong with you.
There was so much that was wrong with you and he was the cause of it all. The prime suspect. The only one, this maddeningly handsome asshole.
Lips slick with moisture, your eyes lingered a little too long on the inviting gleam before you attempted to relax in your seat, while Theo remained hunched apathetically over the bar counter, nursing his drink thoughtlessly. Both of you were so accustomed to whatever it was that you were doing, you fell into a pattern that soon began to feel more like a ritual. You couldn’t even remember how you became his drinking buddy but there was something that Arthur said once… Both of you were not the type to party hard so it made it hard for him to have fun with the both of you, even though Theo and him spent an obscene amount of time together.
You were kindred spirits. That was a fact.
Being around him made it hard to breathe. You noticed that not only the first button of his shirt was open, but now, the second one was too, giving you a good look of impeccably sculpted pectorals, his skin shining under the epilepsy-inducing lights of the nightclub while drops of sweats meandered down to places unknown, unexplored… and desired. With one arm propped on the counter and leaning his full weight to one side, his form was completely angled towards you and his eyes roamed appraisingly over your provocative dress and your overall physique. You knew that look, you’ve seen it before. It was the same way he scrutinized and examined art.
His gaze was now posed on your thighs, your dress hiked up even more on your silky skin as you crossed and uncrossed your legs restlessly. “Looking at something, big guy? My eyes are up here. You’ve been checking me out since we got here.” you quipped with a smirk. “Hm?” he hummed, as if you had ripped him away from the depth of his thoughts. You could see a faint blush on the top of his cheekbones… It was clearly only a sign of inebriation. Right?
“Oh, I was just wondering who you’re trying to seduce.” he replied blankly before continuing. “You wouldn’t need to dress up like this to impress me.” His tongue swiped over his lower lip, wettening it before throwing his head back, draining his glass of whiskey and turning his body away, leaving you perplexed by his words. What… What exactly did he mean by that?
Shaking your thoughts away, you had enough wine in your system to finally get the words spilling from your lips. “Theo… Wanna dance?” Those three words prickled his ear drums and he turned to look at you with a judging smirk. “Is it playtime, Hondje?” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms at his expected remark, climbing off your bar stool and tapping your heeled foot on the black tile beneath you. Looking at him expectantly, your heart clenched, momentarily regretting your decision to build up the courage to take the first step. He was bound to embarass you somehow.
“I’m sure you can find lots of other pups and mutts to play with in that disgusting pile of bodies.” An affronted expression washed over his handsome face and you resisted the need to slap his smugness away. You began to tremble slightly and snapped at him “You suck, Theo!”. His reaction made you freeze for a second. His eyes were taking you in, gliding over your body from head to toe before locking with yours. “Would you like to take me for a test drive? Are you in heat, Hondje?” he practically purred.
“Fuck you, Theo.” Was he capable of doing anything but frustrate (and arouse) you? You could feel an intense heat building inside of you, your heart beating angrily in your chest as you seethed from his response. You blinked, completely outraged and offended as he dared to freaking chuckle at your contained outburst.
“You wish. Now, can you go bark at someone else and let me enjoy my bloody drink?” Not wanting to give him more of your precious time, you actually flipped him the bird this time, scowling at him in disbelief, all that wine in your blood giving way for your tongue to sharpen as the night went on. “Do you always have to be such an ass?”
The ear-splitting grin on Theo’s face suddenly transformed into a smirk… and a scowl? when a young man behind you asked you to dance. You couldn’t really register what the guy was saying. Something along the lines of “ I don’t know if he’s just stupid or blind” and honestly, you kind of agreed with him. As much as Theodorus Van Gogh was a genius at what he did, he was stupid for not giving in to you. You were ready to give him… your everything. You were in deep shit, being so in love with a man who would possibly not return your affections? He looked like the incarnation of heartbreak and didn’t that just make you giddy? Being around him almost made you… sarchotic.
Sarchotic or not. Now you had his full attention.
Those ocean blue eyes were trained on you, an unfamiliar predatorial aura reverberating from him, still seeping through Theodorus’ attempt to enshroud it with the negligible quirk of those lips, that half-smile that you knew too well. If he wanted a show, he’s gonna be getting one. Not that you really cared whether he enjoyed it or not, but the least you could do is actually enjoy the company of the… You looked at your newly appointed dance partner, who had just lead you to the dancefloor, to evaluate him.
Okay, he wasn’t too bad: a bit shorter and less muscular than Theo but his hair were waves of chocolate brown that were simply asking to be threaded through and pulled.
You beamed at your partner, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through your blood, knowing that the handsome Dutch man had his eyes on you and you were going to put a damn show. Wait, it wasn’t a show. You were doing this for you. You didn’t give a fuck and just wanted to have some fun. Looking at the cutie in front of you, you raised your arms in the air and jumped to the beat of the music, body-rolling as you let the sinful rhythm of your racing thoughts lead your every movement.
***I wanted it, I needed it, I love the way your skin felt upon my skin, And I thought you felt the same but you threw me away, Threw me away and still
The man in front of you was definitely getting into the groove, slowly inching close to you and you were more than ready to welcome him. Your hands that were in the air were now resting on his shoulders, your fingers finding the inviting chocolate strands of his hair. His hands were on both sides of your hips, claiming control over the frantic sway of your hips, matching the booming tempo that filled the room. You licked your lips and bit them, feeling your heart race as you snuck a quick look at the bar counter, the expression on Theodorus’ face was absolutely feral… and bloodthirsty.
Good thing you had bitten your lips because you were about to let out an obscene moan as he looked like he was ready to slam you into a wall and fuck you senseless, growling in your ear: You’re already so wet for me, Hondje, so ready for me to slide inside you…. You’ve been teasing me all damn night and when I stuff you with my cock, make you mine… You’ll be screaming my name.
A looming presence was suddenly behind you, a hand gripping your hip and forcefully pulling you away from the “cutie”. You had absolutely no idea what happened, when it happened and how it happened. You could’ve sworn that you heard something along the lines of “She’s mine” but it was most probably your brain playing tricks on you. Or not.
“Are you trying to play games with me, Knabbeltje?” His heavy hand on your hip clenched tightly, his fingertips digging in your soft flesh while you drank in the rumble of his voice in your ear, velvety smooth yet deep enough to shake you to the bone, capable of making your knees buckle in weakness. You fought the temptation to rub your legs together and continued the lascivious sway of your hips from side to side in a rhythm that was your own and one that Theodorus would come to learn.
Cutie, who? Theodorus was the only person you knew. All your senses acutely aware of him and he made sure of that. Only a breath of air seperated your bodies yet, he was so close but still felt so far before he yanked your back brusquely, your back hitting the vast plain of his chest and the softness of your derriere grazing his crotch. You closed your eyes and hummed with a nonchalant tone, your back arching as you reached your arms behind you, gripping Theo by his nape and threading your digits leisurely through his chestnut locks.
“You really want to know, hm?” You crooned and he tensed briefly but soon relaxed behind you, one hand caressing the curve of your hips, his hold on you was firm and steady, making you feel the heat radiating from his body and enveloping you with the scent of his cologne mixed with whiskey, intoxicating you even more than the wine you drank.
One of his large hands snakes up the curve of your waist, lightly grazing the side of your soft mound and trailing up your neck and resting there. He rolled his hips against yours, your body following his every moment as he dictated your every single motion. The warmth of his breath tickled your ear as he crooned sultrily in your ear. “I could eat you all up, Knabbeltje… right fucking now.”
I don't wanna feel rejection, don't wanna have no regrets… Is this a good decision or will you look for someone else? Leave me all by myself...
“Is that so?” you could hear your own smile in your voice and could hear an inherent raspiness in it too. Your thoughts swiveled with yearning and your judgement was clouded by your love for this man… and your inebriation. Your mutual ministrations continued as he grinded his hips at an excruciating pace, drawing out the torture that you were both suffering from. His long fingers were now teasing the column of your neck, careening over your sensitive skin and sending shivers up and down your spine. Slowly, he wrapped his hand on your neck, pressing only lightly and bit the tip of your earlobe before sucking on it, letting his tongue glide over its seams. “I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true. You want me to repeat myself?”
“I didn’t say any such thing, Theodorus.” You dared to use his full name, intentionally triggering him. His grip tightened on your neck and warm breath caressing your ear. “I’m not all bark like you.” He truly thought that you were all bark but you were prepared and intended to do lots of biting, now that he was so near. You tightened your grip on his strands, making him groan in response. “I hate that you make me feel this way.” you breathed out slowly, trying to ignore the tightening of anticipation rousing in your chest. “Enlighten me… What kind of way do I make you feel, hm?” It was now his turn to tease you.
“You know how I feel about you…” you pouted, grudgingly taking a sharp inhale before you carried on with this morphed, semblance of a confession. “You keep… you keep messing with my head, Theo.”
“You’re doing much worse to me, mijn liefste.” Oh God, you didn’t know what he said but you were positive that it was not some dog related insult and your heart drummed even harder in your chest. Why did this man have so much control over you? His voice was like whiskey and chocolate, dark, decadent and heavy with yearning, a blazing fire in your core, an excited tremor coursed through your veins like lightning, but not once did you rush the wicked to and fro of your hips, brushing your softness against the harsh ropes of sinew that made him the Adonis that he was.
Your cheeks were rosy as the pink dusk that painted clear skies and he saw that as you twisted your chest to look back and up at him. His fierce stare reflected in your glimmering eyes, your pupils dilating clearly, making them appear almost darkened in their shade. It would be blasphemous to say that Theodorus was anything but completely mesmerizing. “Don’t give me those eyes, Knabbeltje... or I promise I’ll take you here and now.”
I love to see you smile, I love, my love…
As much as the thought had you reeling, you wanted the awaited spectacle to be a private one. Gazing straight in his almost glowing orbs of sapphire, he had the look of a man who was born ready to ravage you and rearrange your insides. Leaning down, he drawled against your lips with a huskiness that sent you into a frazzled state of need.
“When I fuck you, I’m going to make sure you always remember it. The only thing that’s gonna spill from those pretty lips is my name.”
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Read Part II HERE.
Tagging le Theo simp squad + those who have been so kind to send me their ideas on what the “dirty dancing scenario” should be like: @delicateikemenmemes @sweetlittlemouse @nad-zeta @nafeary @raymiazaki @munarisblog @karmaaf (sorry if I forgot anyone else)
Hope you enjoyed this 💜 Please feel free to leave comments/feedback! Masterlist
#ikemen vampire#ikevamp#ikemen vampire theo#ikemen vampire theodorus#ikevamp theo#theodorus van gogh#ikevamp theo x reader#ikemen vampire scenario#ikemen vampire fanfic#ikemen vampire theo x reader#ikevam theo#theo van gogh#ikemen series#otome#cybird
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FIC: Welcome To Backwater ch.3 (spicyhoney)
Summary: Stretch is getting out and meeting new people, if only things weren’t a little...ominous.
Content: Spicyhoney, Midwest Gothic
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Read Chapter Three on AO3
or
Read it here!
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The thing was, Stretch had never really lived on his own. For most of his life, he’d lived with his brother. Taking care of Blue when he was a kiddo, then sort of swapping roles for a while as they got older. By the time they were on the surface, they had a pretty good give and take going when it came to cohabitation. Living with his bro was never the problem.
It was moving back in with him after everything went down that was the hard part. His sympathy felt more like stifling pity, the relentless cheer Stretch normally adored was grating, and as much as Stretch loved his brother, (and he did, his brother was the coolest and fuck anyone who didn’t see that), he just…he couldn’t. Not right now.
That all came to a head and landed him on the midnight bus to anywhere and living here essentially alone was turning into a balancing act between being necessarily solitary and lonely enough to start befriending the local spooks, and now look at him.
Standing in Red’s living room and armed with a lamp shaped like a flamingo, probably about to be murdered for the hundred bucks in the front register and Red’s shitty microwave, and his first stupid thought was, holy shit, he’s gorgeous.
Not that it wasn’t a valid thought, but it didn’t do much to better the situation. A skeleton Monster (another one? really?) that was almost as tall as he was, but instead of Stretch’s scrawny bod and knobby knees poking out of his cargo shorts, this guy looked like he’d just stepped out of GQ’s leather edition, available only with a valid ID. From those slender hips with all the right curves all the way up to the delicate intricacies of his cervical vertebra, he was like a book written in braille, begging for a touch. Those cheekbones alone were sharp enough to do more damage than any damn lamp, fuck, he should have to carry a weapons license for those things, they were sure as hell giving Stretch a good stab in the libido.
Mystery guy only stood there in Red living room, cool and calm in spite of the fact he was wearing a sleek leather jacket and knee-high damn motorcycle boots, (fuck, those legs), on a sweltering day. Didn’t even bother to pull his hands out of his jeans pockets, like he was hanging around patiently for a fucking takeout order instead of starring in a home invasion.
The guy raised a browbone, and fuck, how did even the scar running through his socket seem sexy? “Well?” Mystery Man said, “Nothing else to say?”
That broke the spell. Well, kinda, holy shit, take two. That voice, it was almost rich enough to pour into a cup, but damn, if Sugar Tongue here dusted Red, what was Stretch gonna tell the cops? That he was too busy getting seduced by those dark molasses wiles to do anything about it?
Stretch brandished the lamp again and blustered out, “i asked you first!”
The guy sighed heavily and for half an idiot second, Stretch felt bad for disappointing him. “If we’re going to continue down this path of childish competition, then I was here first. Would you care to offer a rebuttal? Or is that word too complicated for you, I’d make an attempt to bring it down to your level, but I don’t have the time to journey back out of the realm of stupidity today.”
That was enough to snap him out of this guy’s erotic stupidity spell. Great, he was a murderer and a dick, Stretch should’ve known. No one with hips like that could be on the side of good. He raised the lamp again threateningly, flamingo-beak facing front, “the only butt around here is gonna be yours when i kick it!”
The guy only rolled his eye lights, deep crimson, huh, how about that. “Ah, how refreshing it is to have a chance to engage in such cunning debate,” he drawled. “But as enchanting as this has been, let me interrupt the vigilante plotline you seem to be starting. I’m only here to drop off a package for my brother.”
“brother?” Stretch parroted dumbly. Oh. Ohhhhh, for fuck’s sake he was an idiot. Red eye lights, skeleton monster, all he was missing was a fucking name tag that said, ‘Red’s Tall Brother, Please Do Not Ambush.’
Well, that was one way to make a first impression.
Stretch sheepishly lowered the lamp, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. “oh. uh, sorry about that, i’m a little on edge.”
“On edge, are you,” the guy repeated. One corner of his mouth pulled upward in a sardonic little smile, another sign of the unfairness of life that it only made him look even more appealing, if that were possible. Sex on legs and that voice? Some guys cheated to role for charisma twice was all Stretch was saying. “Ah, aren’t life’s little ironies precious.”
Before Stretch could figure out what the heck that meant, he heard the familiar thump and bump of Red hurrying down the hallway. The door was flung open hard enough to bounce against the opposite wall and Red paused in the doorway, taking in the scene. His brother standing there is all his sexy glory, completely unconcerned and weaponless, and Stretch still sweaty and disheveled from trekking through the heat outside, standing there with a lamp in his hands trying to look like he hadn’t been ready to bonk the guy on the noggin like the first chapter of an Agatha Christie novel.
Red was snickering before Stretch could even scramble for any sort of excuse, “whatcha gonna do with the lamp, armstrong, knock his lights out?”
“i was improvising,” Stretch mumbled. He plunked the hideous thing back on the table, fumbling to plug it back in. "you didn't tell me you had a brother."
"no?” Red set both hands on the top of his cane to lean against it and innocent was not a voice he wore well, nope. “musta slipped my mind."
"Your mind is ever slippery, brother," said brother put forth in a clipped tone, "Somehow, you managed to forget to mention this…person…to me as well."
"and 'cause i did you got to have an excitin' first meeting,” Red said, abandoning innocence for pure mischief. He gave them both a broad wink, “ain't that right?"
About the only thing Stretch and this guy had in common was the mutual dirty looks they gave back to that.
“only if you get your thrills from a criminal sort of meet and greet,” Stretch said.
"Yes," the brother said irritably, "Very exciting. And now that we’ve all confirmed who I am, would you care to explain who this is?”
Red’s grin widened, his gold tooth winking in the mellow sunlight streaming in through the tatty curtains. “my new clerk.”
“Your—” That irritation melted into horror as the guy’s spine went ruler-straight as if someone jammed a yardstick up his ass before he blustered out, “have you lost your tiny little mind?”
Stretch couldn’t help feeling a little insulted. It was a little grocery store, not the Ritz, they didn’t need all their cheese on the crackers to manage selling ‘em, thanks.
Red didn’t seem bothered by his brother’s disbelief, he only shrugged, “nah. don’t think so, anyway.” Then with a touch of acid, “not like you’re around long enough to find out.”
His brother ignored that. Seemed like he was still stuck on Red’s audacity in hiring a clerk. “You have,” he said wonderingly, “You’ve completely lost your mind this time. And you’re keeping him right here in the house?”
“room upstairs, but yeah.” Red sucked on his teeth loudly, grinning his wide, feral grin. “got a problem with that, little brother?”
Conversation briefly ceased as they both seemed to be trying to communicate in glares and Stretch didn’t know enough of the language to interpret, but he didn’t think it was going well. Especially not when the tall drink of brother abruptly turned to him and said, “Go get your things.”
Stretch only gaped at him, too surprised to even protest, of all the fucking arrogance—!
“Go get your things,” he repeated, a touch louder and flavored with a dash of impatience, “and I’ll take you to the bus depot right now.”
“you’re serious,” Stretch said in disbelief. He shook his head with a short laugh, “heh, sorry, champ, not going anywhere on your say-so. besides, i just got here, if i leave now, I’ll never get voted prom queen.”
The other guy’s face didn’t so much as twitch and intensity in that crimson gaze made Stretch want to look away. He resisted, meeting that glare defiantly, even as he said, quietly, “If you stay long enough, leaving won’t be an option.”
Stretch only snorted, seriously, what was with this guy? “and you’re calling your brother a nut?”
He didn’t bother to answer that one, only swung around and pointed an accusing finger in Red’s direction. “This is on you, brother.”
Red only gave him that easy, sharky grin back. “always was.”
Stretch thought that was the end of it. The guy nodded shortly and started towards the door, brushing past Stretch to get to it and that was where he paused. He turned towards Stretch, those red eye lights moving over him searchingly. The end table with its returned lamp was at Stretch’s back, there was nowhere to go as Red’s brother loomed into his personal space, leaning in uncomfortably close, only inches away from Stretch’s collarbone as he sniffed delicately.
“Hm,” he said thoughtfully.
Stretch resisted the urge to give his armpits a testing sniff. “what?”
But he only drew away and gave Red another unreadable look. Red nodded once.
What. The. Fuck?
“Fine,” the guy sighed out. His hands curled into brief fists, sharpened fingertips pressed into his palms. “It’s your problem, brother, you deal with it.”
“don’t i always?”
“Perhaps with the least amount of property damage possible, if you don’t mind.” He gave Stretch another dismissive half-glance. “Now if you’ll excuse me, brother."
He turned and started to walk off and yeesh, even the way he walked caught the eye, damn, hate to see you leave, love to watch those hips go.
Down boy, Stretch told his libido. There was enough weird shit going on and he really didn’t need to take another hike down that path. Besides, with hot stuff constantly looking at him like something to be scraped off the bottom of his shoe, it wasn’t exactly opening the door for romance. He’d had his fill of assholes, a lifetime’s worth, and just case it might be a question, Stretch proved he was still an enormous idiot by calling to that leather-clad back, “didn’t catch your name.”
The guy didn’t even pause. “Then next time you should be a better hunter.”
With that he was out the apartment door. Stretch and Red stood there and listened to the cow bell jangling loudly, the door slamming, and then the roar of an engine speeding away.
Only then did Red speak again, with laconic ease, “if you’re done staring at my baby bro’s ass, y’can come eat with me.”
“i—" wasn’t, Stretch started to say, then shrugged. Busted. “don’t worry, i don’t think i’m his type.”
“don’t think too hard, gonna hurt yourself,” Red said, dry as a mouthful of sand. “what’s the problem, don’t think you got the right size font?”
“let’s not get into that, it’ll take too long,” Stretch tossed back. “and don’t take this the wrong way but your brother is a dick.”
“yeah,” Red said fondly, “ain’t he great? now, before you tried to light up my bro’s life, i was setting up for dinner. if you grab that bag, you can have some, too.”
Stretch followed where Red pointed with his cane to find an insulated bag sitting by the sofa, black because fuck knew Fonzie’s stunt double needed matching accessories. He lugged the bag along as he followed Red back down the hallway into the store, setting it on the counter while Red struggled into the chair. There were a couple of dusty bowls already sitting there next to the beers and Red gave them a cursory wipe with a rag of dubious cleanliness.
“my bro got his own place a while back,” Red unzipped the bag and pulled out a large ceramic casserole dish. “but he still drops off food for me coupla times a week. says that eating at ‘mama’s’ along with a double daily dose of mac and cheese ain’t healthy.”
Stretch watched, reluctantly intrigued. “he doesn’t stick around for dinner?”
“nah, my bro has kinda a special diet.” Red pulled the lid off and steam rose out, along with the gorgeous, rich smell of sinfully delicious food. Long greenish noodles drenched in some sort of glistening sauce with chunks of more green and purple veggies mixed in, and dusted with a heavy sprinkle of parmesan. Whatever it was, it wasn’t anything like what they brought to the table at Olive Garden.
Stretch inhaled deeply, his mouth already watering. “holy shit, he cooked this?”
“cooked it, hell,” Red spooned out portions, uncaring about the little drips that fell on the counter and pushing the first bowl over to Stretch. “he makes the pasta by hand. planted the veggies, too, like he’s fucking ol’ macdonald on his farm. he made that stew i gave ya the first night, too.”
Stretch barely heard him because he’d already taken his first bite and had he really thought Red’s brother looked sexy? He was wrong, totally wrong, because this was the sexy, this delectably orgasmic taste exploding across his tongue in a blend of garlic and vinaigrette, carried on perfectly al dente noodles mingling with the bright crunch of zucchini and beets. It was hard not to moan aloud as he chewed down that first bite and went back for another.
“is he single? i changed my mind, holy fuck, i’m gonna marry him and chain him to the stove,” Thoughtlessly said around a mouthful of deliciousness and Stretch winced as he realized what he said, “sorry, sorry, bad joke.”
Red only slurped up more noodles, teeth glistening with oil and the long strands flinging droplets of sauce as he sucked them in. “he’s single, but good luck putting a leash on him. go ahead, ask him out next time he stops by. i could use a good laugh, ‘cause, honey, you two hooking up would be a joke.”
Absurdly stung, Stretch shrugged and tried on a laugh, “hey, i’m a hell of a catch. gainfully employed and everything.”
“oh, yeah, you’re the seafood special, all right.” Red’s sharp teeth sheared easily through the noodles as he took another bite. “rebound fucks never work out, kid.”
“how did you—" Stretch stopped with a groan as Red raised both brow bones mockingly. He slumped back over his bowl, twirling up noodles on his fork. “yeah, yeah, handed that over with gift wrap.”
“yep, you did.” Red clapped Stretch on the shoulder with enough force to make him drop his fork. “the list of reasons people end up in the middle of nowhereville is pretty fucking short, kid, an’ you got that look. don’t worry ‘bout it, you got a place to stay here as long as you want.”
The unexpected kindness from Red of all people made him blink hard, but then, that wasn’t really giving him a fair shake, was it, not when he’d given Stretch a job to begin with and kept him semi-fed. “thanks.”
“don’t mention it, to anyone.” Red said dryly. He sucked down the last of the noodles and pushed the bowl away with a sigh. “gonna ruin my rep. make you a deal, air conditioning’s better down here. if you wanna watch tv in my place, y’can go ahead, if,” he stressed, “if ya call your brother. bet he’s out of his mind worried by now.”
“how—” Stretch shut his mouth hard enough for his teeth to click together. Red only looked serenely back, the chair creaking as he leaned back and laced his hands together over his middle. He looked away, not wanting to see what else might shine knowingly in those crimson eye lights. “i’ll text him.”
“good enough,” Red said agreeably. He pulled a can of beer off the plastic ring and popped it open, gulping some down and belching with mellow contentment. “where the fuck did you go earlier, i been waiting on these beers.”
Stretch’s bowl was empty and he ran a finger along the inside of it, licking away the smear of leftover sauce. “to see a movie.”
Red’s mouth opened in a silent ‘ah’. “didja say hi to doris?”
That was not what Stretch expected. “i…yes. you’ve seen her?” Stupid to think Red hadn’t, he’d been here for a long time, hard to believe he’d never stepped into the theater and any Monster with half a gram of sense would’ve noticed her.
“sure, loads of times,” Red said, confirming it. “sweet gal. don’t be offended if she don’t remember you right away, she’s gotta little problem with short term memory.” He pointed a finger at his temple and let his thumb drop like the hammer on a gun. “keep stoppin’ in and eventually you’ll stick. takes her a mo’ when i stop by, but she gets there.”
“good to know.” And it was. Any faint, stupid hurt that he wasn’t the first Monster in Doris’s unlife was a little eased by that tidbit. He probably would’ve been more upset if he went to see her again tomorrow and had to go through the intros again without it.
“okay, g’wan, get outta here,” Red shoved a beer in Stretch’s direction and waved him off. “just remember, wheel of fortune is on at 7.”
Stretch took the dirty bowls with him along with the serving dish, giving them a quick wash and setting them into Red’s already overflowing dish drainer. He spent the rest of the afternoon on the saggy sofa in the living room, watching reruns of ‘MASH’ and ‘Little House On the Prairie’ until Red closed shop for the Wheel.
That night Stretch had a strange dream. Vast trees towering over him and unstable ground beneath his feet. He stood in a puddle of ragged moonlight and when red eyes loomed out of the darkness, he met their stare and didn’t run. Not even when he saw the huge, dark shape that contained them, jagged white teeth in a gaping maw that gnashed and slavered, ready to consume him. The shape leapt at him and he couldn’t move, trapped by that gaze. He woke with a gasp before it landed, waking with a scream tangled up on his throat, clammy sheets sticking to his sweaty bones.
He lay for a moment on the thin mattress, catching his breath. His window was covered, had been since his second night here and he’d found an old blanket in his closet, tacked it up to keep out the blistering heat of the noontime sun. Now it kept out the midnight darkness and he didn’t even glance at it as he rolled to his feet and headed into the bathroom to splash cold water on his sweaty face.
He set both damp hands on the sides of the sink and looked at his dripping reflection. The only shadows in this room were the ones beneath his sockets. His skull was pale, his eye lights pinpricks of diffused white.
“liar,” he whispered to his reflection and watched as it whispered it silently back.
But that was one shipment of guilt he could offload right now.
Stretch shuffled back out and scooped his phone off the nightstand. He ignored the messages, the voicemails, and only tapped out a message of his own, hitting send before he could think of an excuse not to.
i’m okay, little brother, i’m safe. i’ll call soon.
It wasn’t a lie. Soon was relative, just like brothers.
He sank back down on his damp sheets and didn’t bother to turn out the lights.
tbc
#spicyhoney#papcest#keelywolfe#underfell#underswap#underfell papyrus#underswap papyrus#underfell sans#underswap sans#welcome to backwater
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Hazbin Hotel: Yandere Alastor x Vaggie Chapter 47
After a long day of therapy with only breaks to use the bathroom or eat and a break before lunch to work out on a cycling machine, Angel finally was allowed to go to bed.
Angel had spent the whole day pretending to watch porn. Under ordinary circumstances, it would have been considered a good day, but since Angel had spent the whole day thinking, he was relieved to finally get to rest his brain.
Of course, Doctor Red was there to make sure Angel complied to all his rules, including what he had to wear to bed.
Just as before, Angel complied to all the rules. Once he had brushed his teeth, dressed in his white undershirt and gray boxers, taken a sleeping pill, and used the bathroom a final time, Angel let the gargoyle demon to strap him to his bed, cover him with heavy blankets to keep him warm in the cold room, and pull up a stool next to his bed so that he could brainwash him with a final bedtime story.
Angel felt exhausted and beyond humiliated. All day and all evening, Doctor Red had been infantilizing him in every way imaginable as a “way to make up for the attention his father never gave him.”
The spider demon had complied the best he could, but the effort it took for him to hold his tongue and keep a straight face while he planned was draining, even with the medicine inside him to keep him calm.
It was Angel could do to keep a straight face while Doctor Red read him his disturbing anti-gay propaganda.
“And the gay witch burned at the stake and all her victims lived happily ever after,” Dr. Red read, before dramatically closing his book. “The End!”
Angel let out pretend moan of pain to gain the doctor’s sympathy.
“Oh, Anthony, what’s the matter? Why so blue?” Dr. Red said, gently rubbing his stony fingers through Angel’s hair. “You won’t be burned at the stake. You’re going to be straight in no time. You’ll see.”
Angel merely replied with another fake moan.
“Just have faith, my good boy,” Dr. Red replied just as he looked down at his watch. “Oh, it’s getting late. It’s almost 8:30. It’s time for me to eat dinner with your father and time for you to go to sleep.”
The gargoyle smiled, ruffling Angel’s hair a final time before picking up his stool and carrying it out of the room.
Angel remained still and expertly maintained his catatonic expression.
“Alright, Anthony,” Dr. Red said as he pulled the blankets more evenly over Angel’s restrained body. “Your sleeping pill should take effect in an hour. Sleep tight. I’ll be back for you in the morning…”
Kiss.
Dr. Red kissed Angel on his forehead. It felt like he was a toddler getting tucked into bed.
Angel was so surprised he almost lost his composure, but the gargoyle made his way back to the door and turned out the light without missing a beat.
“Goodnight, Anthony,” Dr. Red said softly with his ruby eyes sparkling to reflect the light outside the room. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Goodnight, doctor,” Angel replied as emotionlessly as he could muster.
The good doctor shut the bedroom door, made his way up the stone stairs, and exited the basement.
No sooner had Dr. Red left the basement than did Angel unleash his third pair of arms and vigorously wipe the kiss away.
Angel sighed and laid back on the bed, basking in the irony. He was rejecting kisses from men. Maybe he was becoming straight after all.
Angel breathed another deep sigh and settled back under his covers to enjoy a long night of sleep.
He relaxed that way for a few minutes until the air conditioner shut off.
Then Angel heard a familiar voice echoing through the vent, “You call this shit food?! Why don’t ya let me outta here so I can really give ya something to feast on…Oh, yeah?! If ya fuckin’ hurt Angel, I’m gonna come after ya after I finish off Sir Pentious tomorrow!”
Angel knew that sassy voice anywhere.
“Cherri!” Angel practically screamed.
In less than a minute, Angel loosened all his straps and ran over to the vent grating.
“Cherri!” Angel called through the vent with a smile of relief. “Cherri, are you there?!”
“Angie?!” Cherri asked from the other side of the vent. “Angie, is that you?!”
“Yeah,” Angel said with a sigh of relief. “Thank God! I thought they would have sent ya back to Sir Pentious already.”
“That ain’t happenin’ till tomorrow,” Cherri replied. “I’ve been here since last night. But never mind me, how are you?! Are you okay?! I thought I heard ya screamin’ earlier. What have they done to ya?”
“They gave me electroshock therapy earlier when I was putting up a fight, but besides that, not too much,” Angel said with a slight chuckle. “They gave me drugs and made me watch porn after that. Then, after he strapped me into bed, Doctor Red read me a bizarre homophobic bedtime story. They’re doing everything they can to turn me straight.
“Holy fuck, Angel,” Cherri replied anxiously. “How can you be so calm about this? They’re really tryin’ to mess you up.”
“Blame the anti-anxiety medication Doctor Red made me take,” Angel replied. “What has been happening with you? My Dad and brother told me what happened between you guys, Charlie, Alastor, and them, but they wouldn’t tell me what happened after that.”
“After your Dad dropped off Alastor and Vaggie at his mansion, he drove to Molly’s apartment and forced her out of the car. She was furious. The poor thing tried to chase down the car, but your Dad drove like a bat out of hell and lost her pretty easily,” Cherri explained. “I would have helped, but I was restrained with a straitjacket and your unconscious body…”
“Sorry about that,” Angel interrupted.
“No problem,” Cherri replied before continuing. “Your family brought me here, removed the straitjacket, and shoved me in this stupid room with its stupid bombproof doors, windows, and walls. They’ve kept me here all day and have only entered the room to give me plates of food and water bottles at gunpoint. Apparently, Sir Pentious isn’t going to be ready for me until tomorrow.”
“Goddammit, Cherri,” Angel said with angry tears at the corner of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“It ain’t your fault, Angie,” Cherri said sarcastically. “Besides keeping me locked in an empty guest room with only a mattress on the floor and giving me plates of food and water bottles at gunpoint, they’ve been pretty nice to me. Except for your brother. He offered me freedom in exchange for certain favors.”
Angel busted out laughing and replied, “My libido-less brother tried to get you to sleep with him?!”
“I swear to God. I’m being completely serious, Angie,” Cherri said with a chuckle. “After they tossed me in here, your brother showed up around an hour later wearing heavy cologne and holding a bottle of champagne and asked me if I’d like to spend some time with him in exchange for freedom…”
“And?” Angel asked curiously.
“I threw a smoke bomb in his face,” Cherri said with a proud smirk in her voice. “That got him out of my hair really quick.”
Angel chuckled out loud and said, “That little shit. I’m so sorry, Cher.”
“Don’t be, dude,” Cherri said reassuringly. “This room ain’t all bad. It has a bathroom with magazines in it. I got to have a bath and wash my underwear and sock. Your Dad said this was a guest room they had renovated and hadn’t moved the furniture into yet, but that is bullshit. What kind of guestroom has bombproof walls, windows, and doors?”
“You’d be surprised with our line of work,” Angel replied. “But besides that, they’ve been treating you well?”
“Yeah, but never mind about me, Angie,” Cherri said, her tone shifting back to serious. “What about you? They’ve been trying to brainwash you all day to turn you straight! Jesus, man, that is really fucked up!”
“Yep, my therapist Doctor Red is a real piece of work, too,” Angel said. “God sent him to Hell for for doing this shit to other people and he thinks it was because he failed to convert anyone. He's gullible as hell though.”
“What do ya mean by that?” Cherri asked.
“Let me put it this way,” Angel explained. “Doctor Red thinks he can fix me, and I’m just playing him into my hands.”
“I gotcha,” Cherri replied.
“The plan was to have a meal with my father and brother before they went to Alastor’s wedding if I behave for the week,” Angel explained. “Then, when the end of the week comes, I take the opportunity to bust outta here and run to the wedding to save Vaggie. That was the plan anyway. Now, I gotta help you.”
“Aw, you don’t need to worry about me, Angie,” Cherri said. “I can break out of Edgelord’s place easily.”
“Cherri, I ain’t leaving you with Sir Pentious,” Angel protested.
“Angie, you don’t need to worry about…” Cherri tried to protest back.
Angel quickly cut her off, “Cherri, listen to me! Sir Pentious is an over-ambitious, incompetent simp, but you and I both know he is still strong enough, smart enough, and dangerous enough to be a threat to you and most other demons. If Sir Pentious didn’t take you right away, that means he is setting up something special to deal with ya. You couldn’t take him on alone before and I doubt you’d be able to this time. I am not letting that happen and that’s final.”
Cherri sighed loudly and said, “I know there’s no changing your mind, ya overprotective nut, but what are we gonna do? Sir Pentious will be here to take me tomorrow, you’re gonna be tortured in the basement, and I’ll have to fight a legion of your family members alone. I don’t even have a hope of breaking out of here before then with this fucking bombproof room. God, I should have just said yes to your brother. If your Dad thought we were a couple, I would have been allowed to stay.”
A lightbulb went off in Angel’s head.
“That’s it,” Angel said.
“What?” Cherri asked. “What’s your plan, Angie?”
Angel sighed deeply and said, “I know you ain’t gonna like this, but how about we get married?”
“What?!” Cherri asked incredulously.
“Hear me out,” Angel explained. “If I pretend that I’m madly in love with ya, Dr. Red and my family will be inclined to keep you around to spend time with me to aid in turning me straight. Then when I’m finally let outta here to spend time with my family, they’ll let you out, too. Understand?”
“Yeah, I got it,” Cherri said with a smile in her voice.
“All you gotta do is pretend to like me back,” Angel added. “Do you think you can do that?”
“Ugh,” Cherri groaned. “You’re like my older brother. This is gonna be so weird.”
“Cherri…” Angel pleaded.
“Alright,” Cherri agreed with another groan. “I ain’t no actor like you are, but I’ll try my best.”
“Just follow my lead, baby girl…” Angel said just as a sudden noise got his attention.
It was the sound of the cellar door opening.
“Shit,” Angel muttered to himself.
“Angie, what’s the matter?” Cherri asked in concern.
“The doc’s back, gotta go!” Angel replied in a rush.
Without waiting for a reply, Angel quickly hopped back into his bed and reshackled himself. He then made his third pair of arms disappear and shut his eyes.
Thankfully, the doctor reached the bottom of the stairs without taking any notice of any noise.
As soon as Dr. Red walked past his door, Angel tossed and turned as loudly as he could while keeping his eyes shut and began calling Cherri’s name.
“Cherri!” Angel called out while dramatically tossing himself to one side of the bed and then the other. “Cherri!”
Angel heard Doctor Red opening the door to his room and asking himself, “What in the world is this?”
Angel smiled internally and kept up his performance.
“Cherri! Cherri! Cherri! Cherri! Cherri!”
Angel kept his eyes shut and continued calling Cherri’s name repeatedly while Doctor Red took notes on his note pad.
“Interesting,” Doctor Red muttered in a pleased tone.
Suddenly, another voice called out from the top of the stairs.
“Hey, doc!” Arackniss’s voice called. “Have you found your notes yet? The Don’s waiting for ya! What’s goin’ on?”
“An interesting development,” Dr. Red said gleefully. “You must come and see!”
Angel didn’t hear a response over his own cries, but he heard his brother walk down the stone stairs.
“What’s going on?” Arackniss asked. “What’s Anthony doing?”
“He’s calling a woman’s name in his sleep,” Dr. Red said excitedly. “Please observe.”
The pair were silent while Angel continued pretending to sleep and call Cherri’s name.
Arackniss scoffed and said, “Oh, he’s calling for his gal pal, Cherri Bomb.”
“Cherri Bomb?” Dr. Red asked. “Oh, right! The kingpin who tried to help Anthony and Alastor’s fiancée run away.”
At this point, Angel ceased yelling Cherri’s name and pretended to settle back down so that he could listen to the conversation.
“The very one,” Arackniss replied. “She’s locked in the guest room on the first floor. We’re selling her to her rival Sir Pentious tomorrow in exchange for weapons. Anthony hasn’t seen her since that night, so he’s probably just worried about her.”
“Interesting,” Dr. Red said writing more notes in his notebook. “Have they known each other long?”
“Anthony’s helped her with her turf wars for about 40 years from what I’ve gathered,” Arackniss said. “From what I’ve heard, they’re pretty close.”
“Interesting,” Dr. Red said. “40 years is more than long enough to develop a romantic attraction. It seems that the treatment is working faster than we thought. My scientific opinion is that Anthony is developing a longing for this demoness.”
Arackniss snickered under his breath and said, “After only a day of therapy? There’s no way. She and Anthony are only friends.”
“Don’t be so sure, Arackniss,” Dr. Red said confidently. “Perhaps your brother and Cherri were only friends, but I’ve found that often in pursuing homosexual relations a patient might be suppressing desire for a heterosexual partner. Now that we’re pushing away the homosexual attractions, the suppressed attraction to his female friend. Oh, this is so exciting. I must get this demoness involved in the therapy.”
“How do ya plan on doing that?” Arackniss asked.
“Gradually, of course,” Dr. Red replied. “We mustn’t throw Anthony into it. We must ease him into the heterosexual relationship like a glove.”
“I still don’t know about your theory but easing Anthony into a heterosexual doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” Arackniss said, making a puffing noise that let Angel know that he was puffing on a cigarette. “So, what do we do first?”
“First, we must discuss this with your father,” Dr. Red replied.
Arackniss and Dr. Red then shut the door and headed upstairs. Angel waited until the moment he heard them both shut the door to the basement before he unstrapped himself and dashed back to the vent.
Angel reached the vent and said, “Cherri?!”
“Angie?! What happened?!” Cherri replied concernedly.
“Dr. Red came down to retrieve his notes, so I started crying out your name,” Angel said with a smirk. “He came in to watch me, called my brother down, and now, they’re going to talk to my Dad to get you integrated into my therapy.”
“Hot damn, Angel Dust,” Cherri Bomb said with a proud scoff. “How’d you pull it off?”
“Thank my 50 years of acting, sugar tits,” Angel bragged. “Dr. Red is now convinced that you’re my repressed crush. My brother ain’t convinced, but it doesn’t matter. Either way, you ain’t going nowhere.”
“Holy shit,” Cherri said. “You never cease to amaze me, Angel. I owe you one.”
“Don’t mention it, Cher,” Angel said. “Now, we just gotta act our way out of here.”
“Oh, God,” Cherri said in a sudden panic.
“What’s the matter?” Angel asked.
“Do you think they’ll make us have sex while they watch?” Cherri asked.
Angel paused for a moment and said, “Oh, God. I didn’t think of that.”
Just then, Cherri heard some hands fiddling with the locks outside her door.
“Angie, they’re here, talk to ya later,” Cherri muttered out in a hurry before she zipped back to her mattress and curled up into a fetal position, pretending to be asleep.
Arackniss pushed open the door, and Dr. Red flicked on the lights and entered the room.
“Doc, what are you doing? You’re gonna wake her up,” Arackniss protested in a whisper. “We put her in the bombproof room for a reason, you know.”
Dr. Red ignored Arackniss and continued to look around the room and grimace at the conditions.
“Doc,” Arackniss whispered again.
“I heard you the first time, Arackniss,” Dr. Red said. “I know very well what Miss Cherri Bomb is capable of. I do not intend to wake her. I only intend to make observations...”
Dr. Red took a moment to look at Cherri and continued, “Cherri Bomb is a scrawny little thing, but she is pretty. She looks cold and hungry though. You must improve these conditions. A man who falls in love must be comfortable.”
Arackniss sighed out his cigarette smoke and said, “I suppose we can add some blankets in here.”
“That’s not enough, Arackniss,” Dr. Red chided. “You need to furnish the room, give her proper beauty products, give her books to read, and clothes to change into. You need to feed her better as well. Women are delicate creatures, Arackniss. You need to take care of them.”
“If you’re sure,” Arackniss replied skeptically.
“Of course, I’m sure,” Dr. Red retorted. “I used to give courting advice, you know. Now, we must go speak to your father, but for tonight, fetch Miss Cherri Bomb some blankets to put her in a more pleased mood.”
Arackniss grumbled, “Very well.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Dr. Red asked. “Hop to it.”
“Hey,” Arackniss protested. “Watch your tone, doc. We’re employing you.”
“And your father told you to do whatever I asked,” Dr. Red quipped. “Now, go.”
Arackniss silently stewed for a moment before he rolled his eyes and left the room to find the blankets.
While Arackniss was looking for the blankets, Dr. Red sat down on the mattress next to Cherri’s sleeping form. Cherri felt him sit down next to her, but she managed to maintain her relaxed composure.
That was until Dr. Red started stroking her hip.
Cherri made a yelp of dislike and twitched her leg away.
“Oh, dear,” Dr. Red said apologetically taking his hand away. “I’m so sorry, love. I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”
Cherri turned over to the side of the mattress facing away from the doctor and pretended to try to go back to sleep.
Fortunately, just then, Arackniss entered the room with a stack of blankets and a pillow.
“I’m back,” Arackniss announced.
“Good,” Dr. Red replied taking the pillow out of his hands. “Now, let’s get her more comfortable.”
Dr. Red gently lifted Cherri’s head and placed a pillow under it while Arackniss covered her body with the blankets.
Once the blankets covered her form, Cherri pretended to relax in her pretend sleep.
As Dr. Red shut out the lights and left the room, he said, “She’s a good one. I can tell. Miss Cherri Bomb is extremely sensitive to the touch of a man.”
Arackniss groaned jealously as he left the room and shut and locked the door behind him.
Once she was sure they had gone, Cherri zipped back to the vent to explain what had happened to an anxiously waiting Angel.
The pair shared a few laughs and discussed some more details of their plan before they finally parted for the night and went to sleep.
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Hii I’ve got a question english isn’t my nation language so i don’t think I understand. I’m talking about On The Run fic chapter 2 when you wrote that scene when the reader says that little fuck and you almost had me something like that what was that about? He somehow lied to her? If it is the case that in what way cuz I’m really trying to understand this like whole thing. Sorry if I’m dumb but I just need to know 😂
You are not dumb! You are better in English than I have ever been in any second language I have ever attempted; you are very smart and you should know that. I will fight you (ง •̀_•́)ง
I won’t actually fight you, I just want you to know that you aren’t dumb. That addressed, onto the passage in question:
~
He looks down again and it’s like he’s shifting gears. When he looks at you again it’s like sorrow is a circle in hell and you are burning in it. “Thank you. For this,” he says and nods at your crummy little apartment like it’s more than he knows what to do with. You still don’t know what to say. This is…this is…
His eye twitches.
That fuck.
“You…” you breathe and when he slowly grows a truly wicked smirk you ball up your paper towel napkin and chuck it at his head with an extreme effort that, unfortunately, doesn’t translate into speed or force. “You manipulative fuck!” Holy shit, what an asshole. You might be in love. “My heart. You almost had me, you raggedy son of a bitch. Ugh; sincerity.”
His smirk becomes something closer to a real smile. Not quite, but almost, and it’s…something. Down girl, you tell your libido, for what little good it does you. “I knew you had a weakness,” he says, bringing his glass of water up to his mouth. He snorts. “‘Trash Panda,’” he mutters and throws back the last of his drink.
~
Basically Reader has been making fun of Bucky all through dinner and he’s tired of it so he wants to trip her up. The way she invited him over shows she’s a nice person, but her jokes/insults are a pretty obvious defense mechanism, so he pokes at her by acting extra (extra) sincerely thankful. She doesn’t know how to react when he doesn’t joke right back and the prospect of having to actually be nice, verbally, makes her freeze up. Then he twitches because he can’t hold a straight face* and she realizes he’s just teasing. Of course Bucky would actually be grateful, but in that moment he’s playing it up to make her uncomfortable just to (playfully) get back at her for making fun of him.
tldr: Bucky is pretending to be overly thankful to get back at Reader for calling him ‘Trash Panda’ and when she realizes it she’s a little mad/proud of him for it.
*Whether he actually can’t pretend for that long or whether he twitches on purpose just to let her off the hook...well...who knows ;)
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this must be my dream.
pairing : daichixfem!readerxsugawara
rating : mature & NSFW
trigger warning : double penetration, overstimulation, usage of sextoy, spanking, pure & absolute filth
the joint she had earlier was getting to her now, the girl has maintained composure through out the whole night but now that the rest of the third year volleyball players have left daichi’s house, she’s slowly unraveling into her unhinged, wild persona— one that rarely comes out and reeks of confidence and cockiness. like a dull, grey python who’s finally shedding her outer scales to reveal her true form of a mirror-like jet black snake with green iridescent scales that shone in the light.
sawamura daichi was sitting on the edge of the bed as he watched the girl shakes off kuroo’s black hoodie that she borrowed moments prior. it was because the air conditioning in the third year’s living room was blasting at the lowest temperature to compensate the warm clouds of marijuana being puffed out by several high school seniors who’s equipped with remaining adrenaline that’s needed to be shaken off.
the girl bunched the black hoodie in her hands, savouring the musky but sweet scent of the nekoma team captain. she folded it up nicely and placed it on daichi’s study table so she could return it back to it’s owner when she sees him again soon. now, she was left with her white lace, wrap top that shows a good amount of her midriff and a skater skirt that ended two inches below her ass, tasteful enough that the outline of her round, plump ass is imprinted through the somewhat thick skirt.
she strutted close towards the karasuno team captain who’s eyes were just lingering at her. she felt it, of course and she knows where this will go. it’s not the first time time that the respective captains of their sports team seek pleasure in one another. it was as if it was a routine every time they get high, it was expected. the girl stood in front of him, her lean, toned figure towering over his muscular, beefy ones. using her forefinger, she tilt his face upwards before kissing him square on the lips. their mouths were warm from the heat of the blunt. daichi didn’t waste any time to explore her mouth with his tongue while his hand roughly pulled her into his lap, having her long legs dangling from beside him. his large, calloused hands hover over the translucent, pale skin under her skirt— his strong, skilled fingers hitting the hem of her panties, pulling the elastic band and snapping it back against her skin. she jolted in his lap, subsequently grinding herself on his crotch.
“i’m so glad i got to you first.” daichi whispered against her lips. her arms are wrapped around his neck, keeping their body as close as they can.
“watch yourself captain. i’m not a prize one can win.” she whistled, grabbing his jaw in her palm, pulling away to meet his dark, hungry eyes.
“by hearing you call me that on my bed right now makes me feel like i’ve won. i’m the only one who can ruin you sweet peach.”
shivers ran down her spine, curse him and that sweet mouth of his that always turned her leg into jelly and brings a flush of warmth to her core. daichi’s hands was still roaming under her skirt, pinching her butt, his fingers accidentally grazing her already moistening clit that made her squeeze her thighs between his big hands. the door was suddenly pushed open, revealing daichi’s pseudo-vice captain of his team, number #2 sugawara koushi, the silver haired third year setter.
“hey dai— holy fuck!” sugawara’s eyes widen at the sight of his captain and close female friend in the heated position.
“shit, uh i’m sorry.” a tinge of red appeared on the cheeks of his pale face but his eyes wandered at the silhouette of her tight body. a vision almost everyone in karasuno high wishes to seek. the girl straddling the captain who was sizes bigger than her it was enough to make his dick get hard.
“suga-san i thought you’re going home?” daichi said to his friend, slightly smirking at the tightening of his pants. the girl just grinned deviously to herself, staring lustfully into the silver haired boy, finally recognising her effects on others.
“i-i don’t think i’m able to go home sto-stoned like this.” he stuttered in his words, gulping at the sight of the girl writhing on top of his best friend as daichi kept rubbing the wet patch on her panties.
“well then, a-ah, fuck! daichi.” a moan and a curse escape her lips and suga wanted to faint right then and there. she’s so fucking beautiful and he wonders how she would feel—
she breathed heavily against daichi’s jugular, grinning at the boy. “you should stay the night then.”
sugawara koushi is not as innocent as people paint him to be. he’s a handsome, bright setter playing with a powerhouse school, of course he’s caught some bodies in his midst. but what he did not expect, was the captain of his team no-strings-attached relationship with one of the most elite student in karasuno high. she was the definition of brains and beauty and often being compared to shimizu kiyoko. little did they know that the two ladies had a fling together way back when.
“what a great idea princess.” daichi mused, almost cracking up at the imminent darkening of his best friend’s cheeks.
oh what the hell, sugawara thinks. he knows where this is gonna go. but fuck it, she’s an absolute goddess and all his pea-sized brain is thinking about is the thought of her screaming out his name.
“so princess, why don’t you invite our friend over there and ride him for me?” daichi turned to face the girl in his lap, her cheeks were tinted red from the heat and the filthy thoughts in her head. god, did she hope that the number #2 have some game.
the girl stood from daichi’s lap, walked towards the silver haired boy who was glued onto his feet, still processing what’s about to happen. she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards her before pushing him down daichi’s king sized bed. the girl trapped him between her legs and crashed her lips against his— the boy under her froze for a solid second before his lips began to move in the same rhythm as hers. his hand slipped underneath her skirt, savouring the feeling of her warm flesh under his palms. her hands also found their way under the white sweatshirt he was wearing, tracing his sculpted, rock hard abs from years of conditioning and training with her fingers. she wasted no time before lifting the sweatshirt away from his body, exposing his milky white, toned and muscular torso.
while their lips are still connected and tongues exploring each other, sugawara’s getting uncomfortable at the straining of his cock against his jeans. he gracefully unbuckled the metal belt and kicked off the trousers and boxers, leaving his hard on pressed against his stomach. he couldn’t wait no longer, he wants her, he craves for her. the girl damn near whimpered at the sight of his red, abused tip that was already leaking with precum. she didn’t realised he was packing.
the wet patch in her white panties grew and she began to tremble. she wants to take the boy in her. she kneeled in between him and pulled her panties down, sugawara’s precum leaked more at the sight of her wetness trailing from her pussy and her panties.
“you’re on birth control?” sugawara asked, he’s already breathing heavily.
the girl wiped the precum on his dick using her thumb and spread it down his shaft as a lubricant. with her own slick, it was enough.
“of course.” she lined up his cock with her entrance before slowly lowering herself onto him, ultimately bottoming him out.
the sensation of his girth hitting the walls of her cervix made her cry out in both pleasure and pain. sugawara guided her by grabbing her thigh as she began to ride his cock. his tongue was still exploring her mouth until he moved lower and licked a clean stripe up her neck, making her moan out his name louder.
“suga-san... a-ah shit!” she cried as he began sucking on her neck, making sure to leave his mark on her. sugawara peppers hot, wet kisses on her neck and down to her collarbones, leaving faint pink marks that will sure stay with her tomorrow.
“god, baby you’re so good riding my cock like that.” he breathes against her neck. breathy moans and whispers kept leaving her mouth as she tugged at the silver tuft of hair on his nape to gain some control.
daichi, who was watching from the edge of the bed was palming himself at the sight of his best friend and fuckbuddy savouring each other. he managed to suppress his groans but failed as his high libido maxed out. he wants to join in on the fun too. he stripped from his training shorts and removed his boxers, as he had expected, he was already so close to cumming. he moved closer towards the two and positioned himself right behind her, using his free hand, he lubricated himself using his cum before thrusting into her ass without a warning.
the girl, who did not expect the abrupt penetration screamed at the sensation, it felt like she was being torn in half and she absolutely loved it.
“fuck! oh my god! daichi, hnng please.” she pleaded, as he slowly thrust himself into her at the same pace as sugawara’s cock riding in and out of her. the sensation she felt was just pure euphoria and in any moment her walls will crumble down like putty in their hands. daichi grabbed her throat from the back and gently applied pressure against it as sugawara nipped away on her translucent skin, sending bundles of pleasure from the nerve endings.
“i know why you wanted kuroo’s sweatshirt.” sugawara hummed against her skin. she was too busy whimpering to notice his fingers undoing the laced up detail of her shirt.
“our sweet peach was horny.” daichi mused from behind her before sugawara untied the shirt and threw it beside the bed, exposing the hard nipples of her breasts. yes, she didn’t wear a bra. the shirt was thick enough to cover her boobs through the day but not when there’s attractive men around her that makes her want to squeeze her thighs together. the two karasuno members definitely noticed that while she was busy smoking with kuroo and atsumu in beside her.
“little miss didn’t wore a bra and she didn’t want anyone to notice her nipples getting hard.” sugawara quipped again, tongue encircling around her areolas making her rolled her body back into daichi’s embrace. one, which was secured safely around her throat and another too close to her clit. she has to displaced a cry as his middle finger began rubbing circles on her already convulsing clit from sugawara’s cock constantly hitting her most sensitive bundles.
she began sped up her thrust to catch her high that is slowly building like a wall towering above her, daichi’s thrust also increased it’s pace to match with the desperate thrusts of the girl who craved a sweet release. with every jerk, she felt like she’ll pass out if she comes any sooner.
“hnng, i-i’m gonna cum.” she choked out, hands clawing away at suga’s biceps as her hips grind into his.
“i’m close too, fuck— baby just like that.” the boy under her groaned at the feeling of her walls clenching around his cock.
“fuck princess you feel so good around me.” daichi breathed into her ears. the praises she was getting from both men made her feel like she’s on top of the world.
“fuck! i’m gonn—“ she didn’t even finish her words as the trio released their liquid euphoria simultaneously. her walls around the men’s cocks clenched as she milked them dry, filling her up to the brim.
an intoxicated scream ripped from her throat as she felt her walls came crashing down. groans left the men’s lips as they released their seeds into her holes, it was a state of pure bliss for the three of them.
moans and whines left her lips as she’s slowly coming down from her high. her clit and ass are extra sensitive from being abused by the two men as she whimpers at the slightest position shift by them. the girl had to slap her mouth shut with her hand as they pull out their cocks from her with trail of cum from both her and the men was coated around the shaft.
the girl remained straddled on sugawara’s lap but her form is now trembling at her high sensitivity and her clit was red and pulsing. at the moment, her sensitivity is probably enough to make her cum in seconds.
daichi peppered kisses on her shoulder while sugawara pulled her for a kiss on the lips.
“god, so sensitive.” sugawara whispered against her lips. his fingers lightly brushed against her nub, a soft curse left her tongue. the room was quiet apart from heavy breaths and slight whimpers from the occupants.
the girl crawled off sugawara’s lap and leaned against the headboard with her knees up, exposing her holes which are now filled with white, milky load of the men. daichi and sugawara can only stare at the girl, their cock twitched at the sight of her taking them so well.
“look at you princess. you like to be filled up do you?” daichi teased, using his finger to swipe the cum trailing down her thigh, too damn close to her center. she clench at his finger skating down her sensitive thigh, making the cum trailed down more.
the silver haired boy can only chuckle. maxing out someone’s sensitivity has always been one of his biggest pleasure in sex and the sight of the girl most boys dreamed of fucking, writhing at his mercy like that bloomed some arrogance in him.
daichi still isn’t satisfied so he grabbed her by her hand and made her crawl to the edge of the bed, leaving sugawara still tending to his release. the captain towered over her before kissing her jaw and slowly trailing his lips down until he was kneeling on the floor. using his hands, he spread her legs open, her pink nub was still pulsing and he purposefully inched his lips closer towards her pussy until his warm breathe was hitting the entrance. she was so goddamn close to unraveling again.
“suga-san lets play a game.” daichi hummed. the vibration of his voice sent a shock of pleasure through her whole body.
“what is it?” sugawara stood from the bed and stood, towering beside her with his cock in his hand. he was smirking.
“i’m going to eat our angel out and you’re gonna fuck her throat. if she cums, we’ll punish her.” daichi said, grinning at his best friend as she gasped in pleasure? offence? she don’t know.
“i don’t think that’s fair?” she managed to breathed out. her hands running through her hair. she’s in for deep shit.
daichi shushed against her clit which sent vibrations everywhere in her body. she instantaneously rolled her hips towards his mouth before he kitten licked her pink nub and began sucking on it. moans and profanities left her lips again. it should be a sin that the captain is way too good at head and often times get her to cum with just his tongue.
“open up.” sugawara said and she turned to face the silver head boy. he had one leg propped up against the mattress and the tip was leaking again with his milky white cum.
the girl stuck out her tongue and licked the cum off his tip cleanly, as his eyes rolled back, she took him whole in her mouth— his tip hitting the back of her throat. suppressing her urge to gag, her tongue wrapped around his cock as she moved back and forth. sugawara groaned at the feeling of the girl’s warm mouth around his cock. how often did she give head for her to be so good? the girl seemed so innocent.
as the girl was taking sugawara in her mouth, daichi’s tongue was skilfully lapped around her pussy, savouring her to the best extent. she’s his best girl, she deserved the best head of her life. of course, the game was rigged so that she’s gonna cum as hard as he wishes. he sucked on her nub, tongue-fucked her, maxing out her sex.
she’s slowly losing control at the sensation of sugawara’s cock in her mouth because she was busy chasing her own high. sugawara grabbed the back of her head and gently pulled her closer, the tip of his cock hitting her throat made her gag and the sound she made was gospel to his ears. sugawara’s cock hums against her choked out moans, whimpers and curses as his best friend was eating her out so skilfully. sugawara knows she’s about to come undone and he is too, the girl is way too damn skilled for her own good.
the grip she had on the crown of daichi’s head was to anchor her hips to rock against his tongue. it just feels so damn good that she didn’t care that’s she going to be punished. she didn’t care her sensitivity is going to destroy her. she wants to cry out the captain and the setter’s name and be overstimulated so that she couldn’t even remember her own fucking name.
she choked out a curse as she felt herself coming undone in daichi’s mercy. but moments later, sugawara emptied his second load into her mouth. she swallowed him wholly and he felt pride as she wiped the cum off her lips. god she’s so fucking good, so fucking good.
“you came.” daichi wiped her cum off his lips and smirked. she knows he wanted her to come. he’s sadistic like that.
“well, you got a vibrator lying around?” sugawara asked, a hint of tease in his tone before moving to pile of his clothes and pulling his belt out from the loops of his jeans.
her eyes grew wide. oh no, not the vibrator. daichi grinned in delight at the sight of the girl, already envisioning what’s about to happen to her.
“yeah actually, second drawer from the bottom.” daichi said, standing up from his kneeling position and grabbed the belt from sugawara’s hands.
“shit.” sugawara cursed at the feeling of the red bullet vibrator with length similar to that of daichi’s and his. sugawara return and sat beside her. she flashed her best puppy dog smile to the man but he just smirked and brushed the fallen bangs behind her ears.
“nice try princess. but you’re not getting out of this one.” sugawara said as he switched on the vibrator. the familiar buzz of the contraption was enough to send her into frenzy. she’s not even fully down from her second high yet. daichi came from her other side before looping the belt into a makeshift handcuff. the leather cuffs looped around her wrist and daichi tugged at it, tightening it at once.
sugawara grabbed her by her neck and force her down so that she is now bent over his lap. she could hear the increased speed that he had set before he hovers the vibrational device over her clit.
she was already screaming. her maxed out sensitivity had her convulsing against his lap.
“you safe word is mint princess, remember that.” sugawara said and she nodded as she writhe under the goddamned device. god it feels so good but so painful at the same time. before she could scream out another profanity, a loud and forceful smack was applied against her ass by daichi. her liquid euphoria was dripping down to sugawara’s thigh at the stinging sensation of his best friend’s powerful palm. he’s a volleyball player after all.
“a-ah! fuck suga please!” she screamed and cursed, the vibrator’s increasing speed and sugawara’s teasing hands made her see stars. one moment he’s having it too close to her clit and then later, he pulled the self pleasuring device away, stripping her off the sensation.
“count with me darling. if you lost count, we’re starting back to one.” daichi’s tone was awfully dangerous. the sadism is probably one of her favourite thing about the team captain.
a loud smack was delivered once again to her ass. she whimpered at the sting.
“one.” she cried, the vibrating device pulsed against her clit tenaciously.
and another.
“two!” she cried again, unraveled. sugawara purposefully applied pressure on her clit with the vibrator long enough until she could answer to the captain.
her ass are stinging with red handprints, the captain marking her. she’s not going to be able to sit down comfortably for days.
“ten! a-ah fuck!” she came again. by the time they hit ten, she had orgasmed a total amount of five times and she’s about to meet her maker.
a last cry left her lips as the vibrator was shut off and the coldness of sugawara’s hand cup her butt. she was warm with heat, cum and sweat. sugawara lift her up from his lap and kiss her on the mouth, she was too weak and tired to kiss him back with much vigour.
“daichi-san look at her. isn’t she pretty?” sugawara pulled away and raked at her naked, fucked out state. pink and purple marks were littered on her skin, beads of sweat perspired on her forehead, her wrist red from struggling against the leather bond. she looks like dream.
daichi chuckled and grabbed her by the throat again, pulling her against him and forcefully turn her to face him. he kissed her, savouring her taste again, he’ll never get over how good she taste, how minty and sweet her breath still is even with swallowing his best friend’s cum. he uses his hand against her throat to push her back against the bed. sugawara had slipped away from under her and can only watch his best friend fucked the girl’s brain out one last time.
“i’m not done with you yet sweet peach.” daichi smirked against her neck. that goddamn high libido of his. the girl can only whimper at his grasp, her energy and soul vanished from catching her high over and over. he positioned his cock at her entrance and thrusts deep into her. her back arched towards him and she screamed at the ripping sensation again.
it’s too much, way too much.
“fuck baby i love how you feel around me. god, i wish i can fuck you forever.” he groaned out with every thrust. her whimpers grew louder, obviously almost reaching her high not even a minute into him fucking into her.
she couldn’t do anything. her hands are cuffed and legs are pinned with the captain’s body. she’s paralysed, with pleasure and pain. tears starts to roll down her eyes. it feels so fucking good but hurts so fucking bad.
“daichi-san you’re gonna break her.” sugawara chuckled as he wiped her tears away. with one last thrust, daichi emptied his load in her and her back arched against daichi’s torso, a toes curled at the euphoria, a string of profanity and the captain’s name left her lips. she couldn’t see, everything was blurry from her tears and her fucked out mind. she didn’t think she can function properly anymore. it was the most intense orgasm she’s ever had.
daichi collected himself and kissed her tears away before capturing her lips in his.
“you did so well for us princess.” daichi said, taking her face in his hands. her cheeks warmed up red at the praise. daichi removes himself from her and made her scrunched her face and squeezed her thigh together at the absence of the man’s cock. the leather bond from her wrist was removed, leaving a profoundly red mark. it was a sight to behold
daichi looked at the other man in the room, winking at his best friend as sugawara’s cheek become tinged in red too.
the silver haired boy honestly didn’t know where his ferocity came from but he was glad he could share it to the girl laid on his best friend’s bed, all disoriented and sensitive from his doings.
sugawara bent down and kissed her lips one more time. “i’ll go run us a bath yeah?”
daichi nodded and pulled out the aloe vera gel from beside his bed to tend the discolouration of her wrist and his palm against her round, pretty ass. he poured out the water from his bottle water into a glass on his nightstand and gave it to her to soothe her throat.
the rest of the night was spent by taking care of each other in the bathtub and cuddling the night away.
though the next morning, she couldn’t even stand up and sit down, let alone walking.
curse those volleyball players.
a/n : I DIDN’T REALISED HOW DETAILED I WROTE IT ON GOD I’M SORRY
b.
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu smut#hq x reader#haikyuu imagines#hq headcannons#daichi sawamura x reader#sugawara koushi x reader#this is so filthy JESUS
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Hanhan’s October writing challenge: Rammstein Halloween pt #1
As October tends to be the promised month of all kinds of challenges, I decided to have one of myself. The goal is to write 31 Halloween themed short stories inspired by these prompts. And of course, I chose to write about Rammstein because I really can’t leave these lovely guys alone. :D The stories have nothing to do with each other or with my Stadium Tour main fic, so they can be anything between their band life and crazy AU:s.
Have a nice October everyone and enjoy Halloween with Rammstein. ~
ps. slight sexual content, you’ve been warned.
#1 Meddling forbidden
The prompt: The character goes out on a date (or an outing with a friend) and comes home late that night to see all of their furniture moved/stacked oddly, rotten food in the fridge, but no signs of entry or security issues.
-
Richard didn’t want to complain about his husband’s libido - it was indeed sweet that they still had the fire burning despite being married for three years and sharing the same house for even longer. But the thing that troubled him was that why Paul had to have a sudden lust at public places - this time when they were supposed to spend an evening in a local tavern with their best friends, Till and Flake. Richard was sometimes sure his husband wanted to tease him on purpose - Paul enjoyed his partner’s annoyed look and blushing cheeks way too much.
“Liebling, I can’t open the door while you’re nibbling my ear all the time.” Paul was so close that it was impossible to even see anything.
“Very well, I’ll move somewhere else then,” Paul answered slyly and made his way lower, pecking and licking Richard’s neck this time.
The other man rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t exactly what I meant. Not that I don’t want you, but can we just wait to get inside at least?”
Paul wasn’t going to make it easy this time - he was definitely in the mood and he knew exactly what he wanted now. “What if I’m not willing to wait tonight…”
Richard didn’t reply. There was an annoying pressure inside his tight leather pants as well, but he wasn’t so fond of the idea of making out on their front yard. Forcefully, he pushed the other man away and opened the door as quickly as he could before he was dragged to the familiar lips again.
When they had managed to get inside, Richard tried to fumble the light switch in the darkness, but it was technically impossible while Paul’s kisses were turning hungrier and hungrier, teeth clashing and tongues swirling all around. Goddamnit, you bastard, I’ll revenge you later for this.
Paul stopped for a while and looked at his husband in the darkness: “I want you now.”
The pause made it possible for Richard to turn the light finally on. He was about to overthrow his husband to the sofa when he noticed something - something which made him blink his eyes in confusion.
There wasn’t a sofa anymore.
“Umm, Paul?”
The other man, too busy taking his husband’s clothes off, hadn’t noticed anything. “Less talking, more action.”
“Paul, seriously, I’m not joking, you should take a look at this.”
Reluctantly, Paul moved his gaze from his husband’s bare chest and saw the absurd vision as well. “….what the fuck…?”
The sofa hadn’t really disappeared - it was just on the other side of the living room, turned upside down and the upholstery ripped, pieces of fabric and fillings scattered everywhere. The armchairs were broken and the flower pots were shattered, leaving a layer of soil covering the floor - like a cat would have been doing his job, but they didn’t have pets so they couldn’t blame any animals for this.
“H-has somebody b-broken in when we were a-away? H-how is this p-possible?” Paul stuttered, holding his husband from his arm tightly.
“I have no fucking clue… Let’s check the rest of the house.” Even though he was shivering inside, Richard tried to keep his voice calm so he wouldn’t make his poor partner even more scared than he already was.
The same kind of chaos welcomed them in other rooms as well: furniture turned upside down, dirt on the floor and splinters of wood and plastic scattered here and there. It seemed like their sensual evening had been turned into a romantic sanitation night together.
Perhaps the worst of all was the kitchen. Richard almost threw up because of the horrible smell hovering in the air. “Holy motherfucker, do we have a hidden corpse here or what?”
Paul opened the fridge and saw a disturbing sight. “Reesh, take a look at this.”
Richard approached the fridge, holding his breath and his nose. “What the fuck, what is this…green stuff?” He swiped the slimy goo and regretted it immediately. “You gotta be fucking kidding me, just yesterday we did grocery shopping.“ From that moment Richard swore he would never shop in Lidl anymore if the food got bad this quickly.
“What are we gonna do now?” Paul asked.
“Well, I guess we just have to start cleaning in case we don’t want to stay in this horrible disaster the whole night.”
Verdammt. Richard had a point, but Paul had wished for something slightly different activity with his husband than vacuuming and scrubbing some disgusting shit from their kitchen.
The cleaning seemed to take forever. The grimy slime had already gotten stuck on the surfaces of the fridge, so they really had to use all of their strength to scrub the stains away. They had to throw all the food away and Paul was secretly disappointed because it meant he couldn’t get his morning bacon. At least there was some coffee left in the cupboard - if the sweet life nectar would have been taken away from Richard he would have gone totally nuts.
Richard tried his best to find any clues: any hints if somebody had broken in, but there was nothing besides a lot of mess and broken furniture. Even the lock of their front door was totally untouched. He was thinking they should probably call the police, but what should they say? “Good evening dear officers, we were about to have the best sex ever with my husband tonight when suddenly we couldn’t because our house was fucked up. Please, send help.”
After too much scrubbing, a lot of garbage bags and the artificial scent of cleaning liquids, they were finally ready. The horrendous stink was still stuck in their noses though - it seemed like it was impossible to get rid of it completely anymore.
They sat together on the broken sofa squeezing each other tightly. Richard put the tv on so they could be at least a bit distracted from the incidents of the creepy night. He checked the time: it was 5 am.
Paul rested his head on his husband’s shoulder, still scared, but exhausted as hell. “I have no idea what is going on here, but I’m more than happy that you are with me.”
“Whatever happens, I swear, I’ll protect you forever.”
Paul raised his head from the shoulder and smiled. “ I love you, Richard.”
“I love you too, mein Paulchen.”
After the sweet words, they shared a small kiss - not a fully passionate one which they had shared hours before. The light smooch calmed Paul down enough so he could sleep while Richard kept watching the mindless program, dozing on and off.
Without any warning, there was an aggressive knock on their front door. At first, Richard thought it was only in his dream. But when the knock was followed by the ring of the doorbell, they both were woken up.
“W-hat was that?”
Richard didn’t answer anything to his husband’s question. He was scared shitless as well, but somehow he managed to grab a kitchen knife and approached the door.
“Reesh, is it really a good idea? W-who can it be at this time of the day?”
Richard was determined. He was ready to take the risk of opening the door if it would give him at least some answers to this whole mess. “I have no fucking clue, but I don’t care now.”
#rammstein#31horrificdays#richard kruspe#paul landers#rammsteinfandom#fanfiction#halloween#october challenge#writing challenge#my fics
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i am for you (10/?)
This chapter brought to you by that time I accidentally left Sucker on loop on Spotify for like three days. idk why either, that’s all I’ve got tho
***
[misfit group mms]
[tessa]: oh, it's nice to be home on a Friday night
[tessa]: I love the ALA con but my pajamas are so much more comfortable
[dot]: says you and Ragnor, maybe. The rest of you got any plans? I've got itchy feet but I can't decide what I want to do or where to go
[magnus]: you always have itchy feet
[dot]: you're one to talk
[cat]: so you're crowdsourcing for ideas?
[dot]: why not?
[cat]: Sorry, I have to work a double tomorrow, I'm with Tessa. Tea and putting my feet up, that's the life
[magnus]: Alexander and I are going dancing.
[cat]: I can see your giddy smile from here, you've got it bad
[magnus]: Yes, I do
[raphael]: you've had worse taste, I must admit
[magnus]: was that a compliment?
[raphael]: he's not a total idiot. He has a sense of humor, too
[tessa]: what
[tessa]: did you make a joke? One someone else could recognize rather than one where you laughed at them in your head? And then he GOT IT?
[tessa]: Magnus, your boy's magical, I can't wait to meet him
[magnus]: not today, sorry darling
[dot]: oh we know. Have fun
[magnus]: so much fun
[raphael]: please don't give us the details
[magnus]: just for that, you're getting pictures tonight
[magnus]: so many pictures
[magnus]: every possible outfit combination
[magnus]: every menu item I consider for dinner
[magnus]: every step in line on the way to the club
[raphael]: why are you such an asshole
[magnus]: but I'll stop once we get inside
[magnus]: because I love you
[dot]: or because Pandemonium uses those weird spotlights and strobes so most pics look terrible
[cat]: oh no, it's because Magnus will be too busy admiring Alec
[raphael]: never thought I'd be thankful for Magnus' libido
[magnus]: harsh. I'll have you know he has a beautiful soul
[dot]: you're not going to a club to grind against Alec's *soul*
[cat]: apparently he can multi-task. Enjoy his soul, pretty eyes, and how he moves his hips?
[magnus]: stop objectifying my boyfriend
[magnus]: or wait 'til he can hear you so I can at least enjoy him blushing
[cat]: ah, young love
[magnus]: you're the same age I am
[cat]: but I'm not in love, thank god, it sounds exhausting
[magnus]: bah humbug?
[ragnor]: exactly
[ragnor]: But I also have plans, actually. Quieter ones.The observatory's doing a talk on the Lyrids, and then they're having a midnight picnic while we see how well they show up
[dot]: oooh. Can I come?
[ragnor]: if you can get here in half an hour, it's a bit of a drive to the site. Have to get far enough out of town to avoid the worst of the light pollution
[dot]: on it
[magnus]: hmmm, I have to start planning my photo montage
[magnus]: you're gonna love it, Raphael
[magnus]: you should get a new SD card
[magnus]: so you can save them ALL
[cat]: I'm so sorry, Raphael
[magnus]: OH. IT'S ON. YOU'RE GETTING THEM TOO
[cat]: ohnomyphone'sdyingwhatwasthat
[tessa]: have fun, children. And Ragnor.
***
[maia]: Alec's here. With Magnus. Dancing. In public. Holy shit Magnus can dance. Alec's not bad, but wow. WOW.
[simon]: why are you telling me this when I can't come &see it for myself? That's just mean
[maia]: so you can tell Becky and she can give you that look that she does when she doesn't believe you? Because that look's hilarious
[simon]: you are a cruel woman
[maia]: you're just jealous Becky likes me better
[simon]: Everyone likes you better. You are objectively the best, I am proud of everyone for liking you better.
[maia]: awww. That was really sweet you big dork
[simon]: 🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
[maia]: less sweet, more dork
[simon]: hey, at least I didn't try and make long-stemmed rose emojis for you
[simon]: that'd be a bit much
[maia]: SPEAKING OF A BIT MUCH
[maia]: I think there's glitter in Alec's hair. From Magnus' ... Everything?
[simon]: WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING THIS? I hate Pandemonium's lighting, I can't even ask you to get pics, they never come out
[maia]: well Lydia's seen Alec do this before, apparently, the dancing at least if not the glitter, and Clary's right here staring at them with me, and I can't very well tell Izzy or Jace, they're all stuck in *wait are we supposed to worry about him now?* mode and it's clearly very confusing for them that their big brother is his own person and has sex. Possibly a lot of sex? Alec and Magnus are very close together with this dancing thing.
[maia]: They're really hot, babe
[simon]: I'm your last choice? AND you're telling me other boys are hot? I'm hurt
[maia]: no you're not, you know I love you (and you also know they're hot)
[simon]: I do, don't I? Love you too.
[maia]: were you agreeing with both of those?
[simon]: obviously
[simon]: I can get away with that 'cause he's not actually my brother and also I know you'll never tell him I said that because you like me enough not to want me to be QUITE that mortified
[simon]: aw shit, you'd totally tell Becky or Clary tho. Please don't tell Becky & Clary
[maia]: I'll consider it 😏
[maia]: Clary's probably safe. She seems really weirded out by Alec's date-behavior. Pointing out that we both already knew he was hot might make her head explode.
[maia]: do you think it's because she thinks of Alec as a brother or just because he's so *Alec* iykwim?
[simon]: probably both. Clary's good at multi-tasking her emotions
[maia]: Was that a compliment or an insult?
[simon]: no idea
[simon]: and Bubbie's back, gotta go. She did want to know if you're still good for Shabbat next week?
[maia]: course. Tell her I'll bring the wine
[simon]: told you everyone should like you best 😍
[maia]: 😘
***
[clary]: alinealinealinehelp in eed tot alkto you
[aline]: it's after 2 in the morning there what are you doing? Are you all right? Is someone dying? Do I need to get a plane ticket?
[clary]: SORRY. Everyone'sfine (alec's borfiiiiirnis so gorgeous and i don't even,i had to tell you because you'retheonlyone who gets it)
[aline]: alec's what? WHAT.
[aline]: CLARY
[aline]: CLARY WTF
[aline]: I AM GOING TO CALL LUKE AND MAKE SURE NO ONE'S DYING
[aline]: clary? If you're asleep and no one's dying I'm going to kill you
[clary]: sorry, sorry. Got some water and a keyboard I candothisnow. Sort of. Sorry
[aline]: how drunk are you
[clary]: not too drunk for these conversation
[clary]: thank god my phone's well trained
[aline]: thank god I woke up and had coffee already
[aline]: can you start over now?
[clary]: yeah like. A week or twss ago this guy THIS GUY with the best clothes I've ever seen and eyeliner to rival Izzy's came into the store looking for a book and he said *ALEC* sent him
[aline]: what
[clary]: i KNOW. right. I did not know that was a thing for Alec. Maybe it's just Magnus is a thing for Alec? That would make more sense, I don't think he knew what he looked like at that point but MAGNUS HAD THIS LITTLE SMILE WHEN HE SAID aLEC's name and it was amazing and adorable and istg he's so beautiful i want his vests like all of them do you think if they get married I could borrow his vests?
[aline]: clary. You need to, idk. I cannot follow this story and if you don't figure it out I'm going to call you and if that doesn't help I'm going to call EVERYONE YOU ARE EVEN SORT OF RELATED TO UNTIL SOMEONE EXPLAINS
[clary]: NO you can't that's why I'm talking to you Maia went home to sle
[clary]: sleep because Maia actually knows how to adult and Jace and Izzy are being like scowly because you know it's *Alec* and they're worried and Lydia is
[clary]: Lydia more Alec's friend than my friend even though we are also friends and how does she make her hair stay like that do you think? It never falls out of those braids
[aline]: BREATHE
[clary]: ok
[aline]: drink some water
[clary]: ok
[aline]: try again
[clary]: so Alec has a boyfriend who he met via an accidental email message or something like in an actual freaking movie
[clary]: and for their first date they came to THE HUNTER'S MOON AND SIMON'S GIG LAST WEEK
[aline]: why would anyone start with that
[clary]: and then they left early and Alec's was freshly shaved when he got to the bookstore the next *afternoon* like he had only just managed to get home and clean up before he had to show up and also he keeps smiling and I have a suspiciousness he hasn't slept back at his own place all week
[aline]: how did starting with meeting our family work, that's impossible
[clary]: I have no damn clue but we tried to tease him at dinner last week and now Maryse invited Magnus (that's the boyfriend in case I forgot that part?) to family dinner this week and apparently he said YES
[clary]: IT'S BEEN A WEEK and ALEC IS BRINGING HIS OBYFRIENDTOD INNER S unday wait it's like almost three that's TOMORROW
[aline]: Alec's never invited anyone to a family anything ever. I've never even managed to figure out if he's ever gone on a date because wherever he goes it's not where any of us are. EVER.
[clary]: OH HE DATES NOW
[clary]: I SAW THEM AT PANDEMONIUM TONIGHT AND I
[clary]: they were *dancing* and I was maybe 4 people away and Alec didn't even notice
[clary]: and Alec's my *brother* and they're boys but even I could tell they were really hot. as in people were staring hot and Alec didn't care
[aline]: holy shit
[clary]: like. I really don't want to know this about them but they may have had sex in the bathroom because let me tell you Alec was all blushing and dark eyed and hi's HAIR and you know that loose-happy-post-orgasm thing was going on with the dancing
[aline]: I don't want to know this about them or you that you would recognize that, you're twelve
[clary]: I am TWENV. I'm TWEMT fucking 21
[aline]: maybe he'd just had a drink and was enjoying a night out
[aline]: ...
[clary]: yeah. Cuz that's not LESS WEIRD? Alec drinking and going out in public and not noticing someone he knows near-by? (MAIA. ME. we're not subtle) ALEC NOT NOTICING FAMILY? I HAVE NEVER. You have never. NEVER.
[aline]: this is the most disturbing conversation to be having. Especially with you
[clary]: WHY ESPECIALLY ME? You've known Izzy since she ewas actually a bb izzy and me since i was a teenager why'mI worse?
[clary]: and i am not a virgin wtf aline you took me to the 18nighht at Galore togetherallthetime before you met Helen. And after you met Helen but before either of you had the balls to ask her out. Or the other her. Or you. I think I lost track of the nouns in that sentence
[aline]: drink more water
[clary]: k
[aline]: and then get some sleep
[clary]: BUT aLEC AND mAGNUS
[aline]: are adults and apparently very happy about that fact, they'll be fine
[clary]: but Izzy and Jace are being WEIRD ABOUT IT i need help
[aline]: why? How? What do you think I'm going to do from a different continent? And are you even going to remember this conversation after you get some sleep?
[clary]: that's why typing i can read it if i forgot
[aline]: uh. I think that's going to go a little differently than you expect
[clary]: oh, Simon's saved everysingle durmngdi drunk text I've ever sent him, this is way more like real words than usual
[aline]: that's terrifying I can't know that you're twelve
[clary]: stop saying that!
[aline]: you're drunk texting me about your brother's boyfriend
[aline]: who you actually called both gorgeous and hot like he's a celebrity on a poster
[aline]: stop acting like you're twelve
[clary]: oh
[clary]: point
[clary]: but
[aline]: and honestly considering Alec I think you're the one being weird
[aline]: it's perfectly normal to be worried about someone doing something out of character
[clary]: ugh not you too
[clary]: but the SMILES
[clary]: the way they just. Everything.
[clary]: I think they're soulmates
[aline]: there's no such thing
[clary]: I didn't think so either. but now?
[clary]: aw shit the tired hit I gotta go sleep
[clary]: love you
[aline]: but
[aline]: god damn it
[aline]: I’m calling you back in six hours to wake you up and make you suffer
***
[aline]: I just had the weirdest conversation with Clary
[helen]: it's 3 in the morning there
[aline]: drunk!Clary. Not even why it was weird though. I think.
[helen]: what she's twelve she can't be drunk texting people on the other side of the planet, that's just wrong
[aline]: that's what I said!
[helen]: great minds
[aline]: hot bods
[helen]: 🥂
[aline]: 💕
[helen]: so what did drunk Clary have to say that was even weirder than the fact that drunk Clary was texting you from the other side of the planet?
[aline]: Alec brought a date to Simon's gig last week and they're going to family dinner Sunday AND they were apparently at Pandemonium last night. Alec didn't notice Clary. While he was dancing. In public. With some guy *Clary* called hot and gorgeous and beautiful.
[helen]: wtf Clary's possibly even more gay than you are. She and Alec are both solid sixes.
[aline]: I KNOW, RIGHT?
[helen]: I don't know what to do with this information
[aline]: exactly
[aline]: and Clary was in all seriousness (I think) calling them soulmates and then she decided she was tired and stopped talking to me
[aline]: and it's 3am there everyone else is probably asleep
[aline]: I'm just staring at my phone. I feel like I should do something with all this? But there's nothing?
[helen]: so you had to share the WTF with me?
[aline]: obviously
[helen]: well
[helen]: thanks?
[helen]: but I'm at my stop so you're gonna have to figure out the WTF on your own for awhile
[aline]: but I don't wanna
[helen]: too bad
[aline]: ha. Just for that, I'm going back to bed. Blankets and pillows and that one line of sunlight that makes it through between the curtains...
[helen]: I hate you
[aline]: love you too, babe. 👋🏼
#jilly writes#shadowhunters#malec#SAIA#HELINE#VERY LESBIAN CLARY#all my favorite things#my sh fic#i am for you
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Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 50
Luke and Simon finished up their move on November 30th, and we closed on the penthouse December 2nd. I’d been busy getting things sorted at the office, and though Tom had begun packing there was still much more to do before the company we’d hired to relocate all our worldly belongings showed up on December 15th. We figured that would give us just enough time to settle in before Christmas, which Diana would again be hosting this year. There were boxes everywhere, and at nearly seven months pregnant my ability to navigate tight spaces seemed to diminish a little more with each passing day. Since we’d been back there’d been intermittent discussions regarding what to name Prog, but everything we came up with just didn’t seem to fit. Roland had always been my first choice, but that fucker Simon had beaten me to it, and while I could technically still use it, I harbored zero desire to have to listen to him calling me a copycat for the rest of my natural life so it was officially off the table. Tom’s first choice was William, but almost immediately after mentioning it he recalled that was my ex-husband’s name and into the ‘nope’ pile it went. By the weekend of the 10th we’d gotten to the point wherein we were wrapping and packing our collectibles, AKA the socially acceptable term for adult-owned toys, at least in our case, anyway. Tom had donned his Indiana Jones fedora after finding it in the spare room and was humming the theme on and off while wielding a tape gun as if it were a weapon. I’d flopped down on the bed, at which point he’d decided to see if he could land the hat on my belly. One toss was all it took, which wasn’t surprising because an easier target would have been a challenge to establish, and I just let it remain there because removing it would have required entirely too much effort on my part. Prog decided to give it a kick, and with that, just as I’d know he was a boy, I knew his name. I sat up, hat in my hand, eyes wide. Tom stared at me, concerned.
“Everything all right?”
Nodding, I waved the fedora at him. “This is it. The name. His name.”
Tom’s left eyebrow rose as his head tilted to the right. “Fedora?”
I rolled my eyes. “Really? No. Not fedora.”
He pursed his lips, one hand rising to stroke his jaw. “Surely you don’t mean to call him Indiana. Though, that is rather cool, if I’m honest…but it sounds awful in conjunction with Hiddleston, doesn’t it?”
I sighed heavily in exasperation at his lack of comprehension, be it genuine or a ruse, as to where I was going with this, shaking my head as I lowered my chin to my chest briefly, then turned my gaze back to him.
“No, Tom. Not Indiana. His name is Henry. Henry Thomas Hiddleston.”
His hand shifted from his jaw to cover his mouth, nearly concealing a gasp of surprise. He walked around the bed to kneel in front of me, fingers grazing my belly as he leaned forward. “Oh. Oh my. That’s it, you’re spot on. Henry. Hello Henry. Wow. Okay.” He looked up so his eyes met mine, a huge smile spreading across his face. “Guess we’ll call the dog Indiana, then.”
“Cat. We can call the cat Indiana.”
He pouted. “A house isn’t a home without a dog, Maude.”
“You know what? You’re right…a house isn’t a home without a dog. A hot dog. Which is what I want, like, right now. Help a girl up so she can go grab one out of the fridge, m’kay? All cold and salty…mmm…”
He obliged, taking my hands and providing a gentle boost. “I’d be more than happy to cook for you, you know…”
“Thank you, but…nope. Cold hot dog. Maybe two. Or three.” He stuck his tongue out, shaking his head in mock disgust. I shrugged. “Can’t be helped. What Henry wants, Henry gets, you know?”
He kissed the top of my head. “Oh, I know. What ‘Henry’ wants, is it?”
As we entered the hallway, I punched him in the arm. “Listen, I’m going to milk this whole pregnancy thing as much as possible. It’s the first time in my life I’ve had a legitimate reason to behave like a diva on a regular basis.”
“You’re no diva, love. You’re a goddess…my goddess, thank the stars…and should be treated accordingly.”
“Well, I can’t argue with that.”
He smirked. “Well, I feel as if I’ve achieved what I’d always thought was an impossible victory.”
“Whatever. Hush up and fix me my hot dog.”
“Hmmm, I thought Henry was the one who…”
“Is that how we treat the goddess, Tom? Is it?”
Bowing deeply, he took my hand and brought it to his lips as he gazed up at me. “No. No it is not. Shall I make it up to you by delivering your meal to the couch so you can sit back and elevate your legs?”
I patted him on the head as he rose. “That’s more like it. Also, yes please. And thank you.”
“C’est mon plaisir, Maude.”
“Oh god, not the French.” I’d developed a bit of a kink for it over the past month, which he’d graciously accommodated. Rear entry was really the only position that worked well for us of late, and my libido had tanked considerably. Him talking dirty always got me in the mood, though, and when he spoke in French it was like my stupid maternity pants just fell right off. Once he’d discovered that saying literally anything in that particular language got me fired up, even if I had no idea what the fuck it meant, he began making a habit of interjecting it into our conversations when I least expected it.
“Votre chaud chien vous attend.”
I recognized a good bit of that, especially the words for ‘hot’ and ‘dog’. “Pretty sure hot dog in French is just…hot-dog, Tom.”
“That’s not nearly as erotic as chaud chien, is it?”
I groaned. “No. No it’s not. You suck.”
He grinned. “We’ll see.”
****************************************
Once all our stuff was in place and put away, it became apparent that the penthouse was downright vast as far as space was concerned. The sofa and chairs blended in nicely with the modern design, and the tree of life rug looked perfect in front of the built-in white shelf that ran the length of the closed stair railing, but they seemed so much…smaller. Even the dining table was dwarfed by the openness, though it was, at least in part, sort of freeing…less cluttered living. The bar-style island required the purchase of new chairs so we could eat there when we felt like it, and I insisted upon the kind with backs as opposed to bar stools because I knew I’d end up ass over teakettle otherwise. Admittedly, there was an awful lot of white cabinetry throughout, but the floor to ceiling windows let in so much light it seemed much more New York flat-ish as opposed to New Orleans house-ish. The entry point was on the lower floor, within the rectangular portion of the building. Just inside the main door and to the left was a guest half-bath, with a hall door that led to two large bedrooms with full en suites. In the entryway, next to the door to the bedrooms, was a hall closet. Directly across the entryway from the closet was the double-door entrance to the circular portion of the building. Straight ahead through the doors and on the right-hand side of the circle there was a staircase to the second level, and to the left was a door to another small hallway that led to two more en suites, one average-sized rectangular bedroom and a a second three-sided bedroom comprised of two traditional walls and one curved measuring twenty-seven by eleven feet overall. Down past the staircase and on the left was the entrance to the twenty by eighteen-foot master suite, with a full quarter-circle glass wall on one side overlooking a forty by nine-foot terrace. The bath was also quarter-circle in shape, and the dressing room rectangular. We sacrificed some of the dressing room square footage in order to put in a door to the other semi-circular bedroom, figuring it would be an ideal location for Henry’s nursery. The upstairs footprint was identical to that of the lower level, though wide open except for the small wall that served to support the kitchen cabinetry. There was another half bath just off the kitchen in the squared-off dining room area, as well as sliders to the large private outdoor deck that overlooked Regent’s Park. Where to display our book collection was our biggest conundrum…the only section of appropriate public wall space was in the living room opposite the television and stairs, but the couch was backed against it so they’d have to be above and behind us, which would make it impractical to peruse them easily since they’d be difficult to reach. There was space for shelving downstairs just before the staircase, but not enough room for everything. The entry area was also an option, but still, not enough room. We decided to store them in the smallest bedroom until we’d grown accustomed to day-to-day living in the penthouse and had a better feel for the flow, especially since there were more pressing issues that required our attention at the moment. Issues like ‘holy fuck, what actually, like, goes in a nursery anyway and where do we buy this shit’.
The answer to ‘where do we buy this shit’ was simple…the internets, thank you very much. As it turned out what goes in a nursery was also answered simply and included a.) place for the baby to sleep, b.) place to dress the baby and conduct baby-waste removal and related clean-up activities, c.) place to store the things required for item b and finally d.) a rocking glider which was sold under the pretense of baby feeding and baby rocking but was more than likely a spot for the parental units to collapse because they were too exhausted to walk another fifteen feet to their bed after completing all of the aforementioned tasks. Things got complicated when the morons with minimal baby experience attempted to choose the design style for the nursery components while trying very, very hard to be mindful of the form over function rule but wound up falling down the ‘oh, we might need this too’ rabbit hole. There was the Baby Bay, a white three-quarter crib that attached underneath a mattress so there could be co-sleeping without the danger of rolling over and suffocating the infant, which seemed like a great idea since I’d decided I’d give breast feeding a go. Next was a tripod bassinet for upstairs that came complete with a curtain to block out light in case Henry needed to crash out while we were doing Adult Things. It looked like a teepee, and I questioned its stability but Simon said it was perfectly fine and that he’d ordered them for their old place above the office, which would function as a family-friendly home-away-from-home for him and Luke going forward. For when Henry was awake, a baby lounger was evidently required, and I chose a 3-in-1 bouncy-recliner model with a light wood base and a micro-fiber seat, finding myself left bitterly disappointed that such things, if available, were not easy to find in an adult size. All of the furniture was either white or grey, or white and grey, other than the clear acrylic rolling bookshelf, which looked like it was straight out of Magneto’s prison cell. The crib railings were white and the sides grey, and the nightstands and dresser/changer combo mimicked the same design, both sporting grey sides and white drawers. The glider was oversized...really oversized, and I was pretty sure Tom and I would be able to squeeze into it together when I was no longer a sci-fi movie sized dinosaur egg with appendages. It was grey mock-tweed, as was the ottoman, both with brushed chrome bases. We’d found a Mima Xari aluminum and black stroller that screamed ‘Maude! Shiny! For baby!’ but was priced at a ludicrous $1700…after watching several videos and evaluating the cost of the individual components we’d still need to purchase if we went with a different model, I gave in, reassuring myself that this was one of those rare instances wherein function and form melded perfectly. We copied Luke and Simon’s car seat and baby wrap choices since they’d been researching prior to the actual conception of the girls, and other than incidentals like diapers, clothing and bedding, Tom and I felt we were prepared for Henry’s arrival. Or at least we felt as such until we thought of yet another ‘oh, right, that’, which, for me, was a significant indicator that no one is ever fully prepared for such a momentous event and that parenting would probably be like everything else in life…a total ‘fake-it-‘til-you-make-it’ scenario. Shit happens, you deal with it. Which just happened to be my specialty.
Christmas at Diana’s was peaceful, joyful and chock full of hilarity. No painful family secrets to be revealed, no anger, no resentment…a simple gathering of people who’d endured a great deal of ups and downs over the past twelve months and were feeling incredibly blessed to be in each other’s company while not-at-all politely competing for the title of Scrabble Champion. I knew that trying to keep the fact that I was carrying a boy under wraps would likely be an epic fail, so once we’d settled in on Christmas Eve Tom mentioned that we’d learned the gender and since we might slip up we’d prefer to tell everyone prior to such an occurrence. James wept at the news, beaming with pride as he strode toward me. I could feel myself bristling initially, but when he kissed his right palm and then placed it on my belly and said ‘first a granddaughter and now a grandson…how fortunate a man am I to see this come to pass’ I realized I’d read his reaction entirely incorrectly and felt like a huge jerk until I was distracted by a plate of scones being circulated among us.
As part of her gift to us Diana asked if we’d allow her to paint a mural in the nursery, which was a fantastic idea, but drew attention to the fact that we’d yet to choose a theme. This was unacceptable in parenting circles, apparently. Worse, even, than not having a birthing plan that laid out every detail right down to the specific piece of music you wished to play as your baby emerged from your womb. Every theme we’d considered left us feeling ‘meh’ at best…they were either too gendered, too boring, too busy, or just plain fugly. Dr. Seuss had been a viable option for a day or two, but the more I stared at the bedding the less interesting it became and boom…suddenly, meh. On Christmas morning, after all our other gifts had been opened, Diana left the room briefly and returned with a large box wrapped in red foil and set it on the floor in front of the sofa Tom and I were lounging on. From her expression I discerned that she was both excited and nervous about us seeing the contents inside. She smiled sheepishly.
“Now if you don’t have use for any of this, please don’t think I’ll be offended. And please don’t you be offended by my presumptuousness…it’s just that Tom was always very fond of…well, I’d best let you open it before I spoil things, shouldn’t I?”
Inside was a plastic tub, which Tom lifted out and placed beside the gift box, jaw dropping as he removed the lid.
“Mum, my god…is this what I think it is?”
She nodded. “I saved all of your layettes and other special items from when you were babies, both because I love to look at them from time to time and because I thought you might want them for your own babies someday…” She trailed off, sniffling.
Tom began removing onesies, rompers, footed pajamas, tiny t-shirts, shorts, and overalls…all of them bearing at least one character from the Winnie the Pooh series. I watched them pile up on his thighs until one in particular caught my eye. I reached for it, surprised by the fact that it was in such beautiful condition all these years later. It was a jumpsuit, the sleeves, collar and and ankle cuffs a cream-colored cotton, the rest a green, brown, yellow and cream plaid flannel with four white decorative buttons down the front. To the right and towards the bottom was an embroidered Pooh raking leaves, and to the left and near the shoulder was an embroidered Tigger appearing to be leaping out of the jumpsuit pocket while tossing leaves into the air. I couldn’t stop staring at it, Diana’s voice when she spoke sounding as if it was emanating from another room.
“I’d always loved Winnie the Pooh, and so did Tom, right from the start. He’d get so excited when I’d sing him the theme song, even when he still fit in those clothes, his legs and arms flailing about…”
Sarah snorted. “That’s still how he dances, to this day.”
I smiled because she sure as shit wasn’t wrong, but could also feel myself tearing up as my fingers traced over Pooh and Tigger and the softness of the flannel, picturing Diana singing to Tom while he was wearing it, then imagining myself singing to Henry while he was wearing the very same garment. The tears began to flow, running down my cheeks in spite of my best efforts to not cry. I looked up at Diana and found her frowning, concern in her eyes.
“Oh goodness, I’m so sorry, I didn’t…”
I smiled through my tears. “No, no…please don’t be sorry. This…these…all beautiful…I just…I don’t have any of this sort of stuff and I’m so grateful that you do and that you’ve chosen to share it with me. With us. It means more than I can ever properly express. Thank you, Diana. So much. I don’t suppose that mural can be a scene from the Hundred Acre Wood, could it?”
She gasped, her own tears glimmering with flashing colors, reflecting the tree lights. “Really? Well what an unexpected and perfect gift for me…yes, yes. I have one in mind already, actually…”
Tom leaned in to wipe my tears with his thumbs and kiss my cheek, grinning. “That’s our theme problem solved then, eh?”
I nodded, snuggling into his side. “Yep. Only one thing left on our list, really.”
He draped his arm around my shoulders. “And what’s that?”
I patted my belly. “Convincing Henry to exit the premises as scheduled.” He laughed, and I pointed my left index finger in his direction. “It’s a legitimate concern.”
“It’s not uncommon to go past the due date, is it?”
I shook my head. “No. But I’m crossing my fingers that l he’ll take after me as opposed to you in regard to timeliness.”
As he began to speak Diana interrupted him. “Maude, perhaps it will ease your mind a bit to know that Tom was the only child I bore that wasn’t late. All downhill after that though, as far as being prompt goes, I’m afraid.”
Tom attempted to speak again, only to be interrupted by me this time around. “So there IS hope after all…even if it’s fleeting, I’ll take it.”
****************************************
Tom opened and held the Bull & Last’s heavy wooden entry door for me so I could waddle my way inside. Though I was now officially five days beyond my due date, we were out and about on a Friday night to meet Luke and Simon for a Tom’s day-late birthday and early Valentine’s Day celebration dinner. It was their first time out of the house together sans children since Persephone and Esmerelda had arrived on December 28th, and probably Tom’s and my last for a while. I’d covered the Prosper office from that point until Luke had returned on February 1st and I’d wanted to keep working, but Tom very gently suggested that perhaps I should take some time off to relax before Henry joined us. An argument ensued and I may or may not have called him a sexist asshole prior to discussing the matter via phone with Dr. Phillips who agreed that it was probably best to take it easy since I’d begun experiencing some edema, which he’d mentioned a week earlier but I’d decided to ignore. I considered calling him a sexist asshole as well, but Tom had clicked the end call button before I had a chance to properly evaluate the situation. After he retrieved a bag of truffles from the kitchen for me we’d had a little chat wherein we attempted to establish why I might be feeling the need to keep working, during which I stared him straight in the eye and said very matter-of-factly that there was a human growing inside me and it was going to come OUT of me and there was nothing I could do about it but maybe if I just kept going things would stay just as they were forever. AKA, I was scared shitless about the entire process, I felt powerless, I didn’t like feeling powerless, so I did something that made me feel powerful as a distraction so I wouldn’t have to face reality. Classic Maude, Impending Motherhood Edition. The fear had remained until three days ago when Henry did a somersault that nearly knocked me off the couch and I began having to pee every forty minutes or so. A few hours into that fuckery I was willing to try anything to get labor going, but when I’d gotten up this morning I’d found myself in a state of quiet acceptance. I’d gotten my wish…I was going to be pregnant FOR-EV-ER.
We spotted the free birds at the corner window table, all the way at the back of the main room to the left of the fireplace. My black leather boots, which Tom had kindly put on for me since my feet and I hadn’t seen each other in four weeks or so, clunked as we made our way across the wooden floor. As we drew closer Simon stood and clapped.
“Oh honey, I love that dress…” His clapping ceased as he tiled his head from one side to the other. “Maude. You’re waddling. Which you weren’t doing when I saw you Tuesday. Wowza.”
“Yes. The waddling. I’m aware. Also, I can’t wear pants anymore and this is the only dress I could squeeze into that was suitable for public consumption but, you know, yay that you love it, I guess.” It was a tea-length black mock-turtleneck sweater dress, the merino wool blend making it possible to go without a coat, which was necessary since none of those fucking fit me any longer, either. I sighed as Tom pulled out the chair nearest the fireplace for me, then lowered myself down like a sloth. There was no need for him to push me in because my belly was already mere centimeters from the table. Simon was directly across from me, and he walked around the table and squatted next to me, tapping on my stomach gently.
“Henry, I’m sure it’s cozy in there, but you really need to come out and play with us. Your friends Seph and Ez can’t wait to meet you.” The girls were, not surprisingly, gorgeous…both blonde, Seph with Luke’s brown eyes and Ez’s eyes a shade lighter than Simon’s grey ones. I’d held them both, separately, which was terrifying enough, thank you very much, but every time it was Ez’s turn Henry became far more active than normal. I’d even made a point of testing the theory, and it totally panned out. Seph, nothing. Ez, kicks and shifting aplenty. I had not a clue what the deal was, but it was fascinating nonetheless.
I patted the top of Simon’s head. “I appreciate your efforts, kind sir. But I think he’s just a tiny bit…dare I say…stubborn. And I have no idea where he gets that from. Certainly not from me.”
Tom sat, pulling his chair forward. “Not from me either. It’s an unsolvable riddle, in my opinion.”
We all laughed as Simon returned to his seat, took a sip of his wine, planted a kiss on Luke’s cheek, then lifted his glass high. “Cheers, dear friends. To laughter, love and life.”
Tom and I raised our water glasses and Luke lifted his very full beer mug carefully, all of us clinking in the middle. The waiter arrived with menus, and I stared at mine for entirely too long trying to find something that appealed to me. All of the entrees were a no, so I ordered sides – a bread basket, Buttermilk Chicken & Aioli, and Triple Cooked Chips. Tom opted for the Chargrilled Onglet, Simon the Chargrilled Aged Cote de Boeuf, and Luke the Beer Battered Haddock. Halfway through dinner I reached across to snag a piece of beef from Simon’s plate and felt a pop, then a rush of warm liquid between my thighs. I froze, and my expression was presumedly cause for concern because, in unison, the three of them asked if I was all right. I took a deep breath as I put down my fork and leaned back into my seat.
“Well, I’m pretty sure my water just broke, so…I mean, I don’t know?”
Tom whipped his phone out of the back pocket of his black dress pants, and I heard him greeting Dr. Phillips as I pondered my predicament. On one hand, I was thrilled, and on the other, frightened. Weren’t there supposed to be contractions first? Because I’d yet to have any, so did that mean something was wrong? I’d read about labor over and over but my ability to retain information had declined considerably throughout my pregnancy, which was a common occurrence. I shook my head.
“But yet I remember that relatively unimportant fact in a rather ironic fashion.”
Tom told Dr. Phillips that he didn’t recall me mentioning anything about it, then passed me the phone. He was white as a sheet, and I could tell he was trying very, very hard to not freak out. I took it from his shaking hand and held it up to my left ear, Dr. Phillips’s tempered Scottish accent causing me to envision Sean Connery, as per usual. He resembled him, really, though shorter and much rounder. Grey hair, bald on top with a closely cropped beard and piercing dark brown eyes. Kind of like a cross between Santa Claus and James Bond, in the business of delivering presents and a being a huge hit with the ladies.
“Maude! Finally some news, eh?”
“Uh-huh. I felt a pop, then a sploosh…but I haven’t had any contractions…is that normal? I know I knew the answer to that but I just…don’t anymore. Oy.”
He chuckled. “Hormones wreak unexpected havoc, don’t they? Yes, it’s normal. But, you should head to the Portland tonight to check in. Labor usually begins within twenty-four hours after the amniotic sac starts leaking, and being in hospital reduces the risk of infection. Which is quite minimal, mind you. So, Tom said he couldn’t recall you mentioning any pain. Be that as it may, I’ll ask you in any case…have you experienced any pain?”
“Other than my lower back screaming at me, no. And that’s nothing new. I mean, it does seem worse today than usual but…oh, shit. Back labor. Is this back labor, do you think? Also, as I do for all medical professionals forced to interact with me while I’m experiencing any sort of pain, I’m going to go ahead and apologize now not just for this singular instance of the use of profanity but for the hundreds of others you’ll likely be hearing until this whole birth thing is done and over with. So, sorry. Anyway…back labor?”
“At what point did the intensity of the pain increase, Maude? A general timeframe is what I’m after here, so precision isn’t essential.”
Throughout the entire duration of baby-harboring I’d kept as active as possible, doing yoga, walking outdoors and on the treadmill in our new gym, dancing when the spirit moved me…and I’d only gained twenty pounds. Up until four weeks prior I hadn’t felt constrained in any way, really, but by then I’d gotten so large that yoga was no longer possible and once the routine stretching ceased the muscles in my lower back became stiff and sore. It was most noticeable when I was standing for long periods and eased when I resumed a sitting position. When Tom and I had gone grocery shopping last night the pain had definitely been more pronounced, and it had continued even when I was in a horizontal position, trying to get some sleep between bathroom trips. I hadn’t thought anything of it because, frankly, I expected random physical components to begin failing the longer I continued to schlepp Henry’s estimated nine-plus pounds around. I squeezed my eyes shut as I answered the question, embarrassed by my ignorance.
“Um, almost twenty-four hours ago.”
There was a long pause, followed by Dr. Phillips first inhaling, then exhaling deeply. “All right then. As I said, next step is getting you to the Portland. May I speak with Tom again, please, Maude?”
I laughed. “You’re going to tell him that I’ve probably been in labor for a whole day and we need to bust a move so I don’t give birth right here or something, aren’t you? Sure, you can talk to him…but I’m going to put you on speaker, okay?” I tapped the button, then handed the phone back to Tom, who wasn’t quite as white but still far paler than normal. He cleared his throat, then spoke.
“I’m here, Dr. Phillips. We’re about fifteen minutes away from the hospital. Will that do?”
“Get there just as soon as you can. Maude, if you begin to experience contractions, be sure either you or Tom track the time between. I’ll make sure everything is ready by the time you arrive. If things escalate quickly, call emergency services first, then me. All right?”
Tom nodded, then remembered Dr. Phillips couldn’t see him. “Yes. Thank you. We’ll be leaving immediately.”
Dr. Phillips assured us that everything would be fine, wished us luck, then hung up. Simon, who’d remained refreshingly subdued during the exchange, began babbling as Luke sipped his beer.
“Ohmygod, okay, this is happening. It’s happening. Do you need us to drive you? We can drive you and bring your car down later. You have your go bag with you, right, Maude? In the car? Have to remember to get that on the way out…”
I covered my face with my hands, my voice muffled as I spoke. “No. I do not have my go bag. My go bag is sitting in the hallway at home, where I put it so I’d remember to ask Tom to put it in the car when we left. It was in the car, but I decided to reorganize it for the hundredth time yesterday. Hence why it’s sitting. In the hallway. At home.”
Tom gently pulled my hands away from my face and held them in his own, placed a kiss on each palm, then released them. “We’ll figure it out, love. First things first…we need to, as you said previously, bust a move.”
Luke stood, and Simon followed suit. “Simon can use our vehicle to go back to the Atrium and pick up your bag, I’ll drive you in yours and we’ll all meet up at the hospital.”
Just like they’d transitioned to a family vehicle, Tom and I had purchased a Range Rover Sport right after the holidays. I wasn’t a Jeep, but I’d deemed it acceptable, at least in the gunmetal grey body color. What I wasn’t prepared to deem acceptable was someone chauffeuring us in it on our birth pilgrimage…we’d decided that it would only be the two of us in the delivery room, hospital staff being the only exception, and I’d assumed it would be only the two of us on the way there as well. As I pushed down on the table and began to stand with the intention of stating that we’d be fine on our own but I’d really appreciate them picking up the enormous bag of shit I probably didn’t even need and dropping it off at the hospital, my first official contraction hit me like a freight train. I’d read that they were supposed to feel like menstrual cramps, but to me this…this felt more like food poisoning cramps on steroids. Once it passed I realized I had no concept whatsoever of how long it had lasted, or whether or not I’d remained silent. I didn’t recall having spoken, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t uttered some sort of reflexive primal scream. With the pain gone I was able to stand fully erect, and as I glanced to my right toward the bar no one was staring back at me so I figured I was in the clear as far as making a spectacle of myself went. For now, anyway. I turned to Tom, who was now standing as well, his eyes wide. The flash of utter terror I saw in them before he smiled at me changed my stance on being chauffeured.
I nodded. “Luke, that sounds great. Thank you. Simon, you have the key, right?” He nodded in turn. We had a set of keys to their place and they had one for ours, just in case of an accidental loss, lock-out or in the event of an emergency situation. I would have thought the latter wouldn’t be the first time they’d be needed, but hey, the universe is full of surprises, isn’t it? Fucking A it is. The sensation of something crawling down the inside of my left leg diverted my attention downward, scanning the wooden floor and hoping I wouldn’t see any droplets of amniotic fluid. Nope, so far so good…but the chair I’d been sitting on hadn’t been so fortunate. It was shiny, as if it had just been wiped with a wet cloth, which it had been, in a way…but it was a woolen wet cloth, also known as my dress. I grabbed my napkin and dried the wood as best I could, then found myself wondering what the fuck to do with the soiled square of cloth. Putting it back on the table for our waiter to pick up would be super gross, and I’d left my purse in the car. Tom took note of my dilemma and reached out, grabbed the napkin and stuffed it into his front pants pocket. He was wearing a maroon sweater over a white button-down, and in that moment I loved him so fiercely it startled me. A sense of renewed energy and an almost absolute power flowed through me, and I took two steps toward him, then grabbed on to both of his forearms.
“I’m ready. Let’s go have this baby.”
He inclined his head in the affirmative, and I released him, then turned around and began to make my way toward the heavy wooden doors, pushing the one marked ‘exit’ outward. Tom was right behind me, close enough so no one would notice if there happened to be a dark spot on my dress…not that I gave a single fuck. I waddled my ass out into the night and down the sidewalk toward our car, my love in tow and my mind set on one purpose, and one purpose only…finally meeting our son.
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They’re a Man-eater ch2 [fic]
Rating: M
Relationship: Eddie Brock/Venom Symbiote
Additional Tags: Fluff, Tentacle Sex, Light Angst
Chapter: 2/3 | WC 4K~
Read on AO3
Read CH1
Summary: The symbiote learns how to masturbate. Anne discovers the truth.
A/N: hope u enjoy...now it’s 3 chapters because I write too much
“Yeah, talk to you later, Anne. Stay out of trouble, okay? Yeah, yeah, tell the boyfriend he needs to step up his game.” He pauses. “Next time. I’ve got—a thing. You know how it is.”
Eddie lets the phone drop out of his hand and roll onto the bed once the call ends. He lies there silently for the next few seconds.
Dan and Anne keep inviting him over for dinner because they worry about him after the whole Venom thing, and at first, he couldn’t even begin to imagine walking into that place, being surrounded by the warmth of their love where he used to live, but now he recognizes that Dan is good for her.
And Eddie is pretty much over the whole thing at this point (mostly), but he keeps up the lie. A part of him feels guilty; he lied to her in the beginning because he couldn’t handle the thought of trying to explain himself when he felt so tired all the time, but now that things are better, he wants to tell her. He does. It’s just…
Sometimes, he finds himself feeling a tiny bit jealous—of their situation more than anything.
Not that his isn’t pretty good in a lot of ways.
Eddie.
The symbiote wraps their tendrils around his waist, looping the rest around his legs and chest. They’ve been hugging Eddie to sleep every night since that first time, and Eddie is starting to get addicted to the feeling of being held like that. It’s fuckin’ weird, but it’s also good.
A lot of things are good when it comes to the symbiote, he’s starting to realize.
The symbiote slithers to his side, forming the torso of Venom before tugging him close.
Eddie’s heartrate kicks up a notch. The symbiote knows exactly what they’re doing, even if they don’t perfectly understand why.
Eddie, they purr, tongue slithering out of their mouth to brush against his cheek. Eddie, get up. We are hungry.
“You’re hungry," he retorts. "I’m sleeping.”
You were just on the phone with Anne. You can't play games with us, Eddie.
He ignores them, staring up at the ceiling. The symbiote's face fills his vision and he forces himself not to crack a smile, closing his eyes like he hasn't noticed them. For added effect, he snores.
Eddie, hungry. A hand wraps around his and starts tugging his arm in the direction of the kitchen. The tongue is back, sliding against the shell of his ear. Eddie!
Eddie sputters, shoving his fingers at their tongue. It slithers in between them, coating his fingers in saliva.
"V, that's nasty!" he wipes his hands on his sleep-shirt, scowling. "Get your tongue outta here, man."
We are hungry.
The symbiote isn't going to stop any time soon, that much he knows, and he's just as starving as his irritating companion, so after making a show of his reluctance Eddie finally scoots to the edge of the bed, pushing the symbiote's head away when they draw close.
“I’ll take even longer to get up if you keep doing that," he says, smiling. "Get away from me. I need a shower.”
He slides off the edge of the bed, stretching his arms high above his head. The symbiote wraps their arms around his shoulders before melting into his body, leaving only a small facsimile of their head remaining.
“Hey, cutie,” Eddie says, knowing it’ll annoy them.
Hey, loser.
He could take the bait, but he really is grimy. His body runs ridiculously hot now that he’s got the symbiote to take care of, too, which means he’s sweating about ninety percent of the time. The other ten percent is when he’s showering.
After stripping down, he turns on the water, then give it times to heat up while he takes his morning piss. The whole time the symbiote is sliding across his body, pulling tendrils from within him to slap and poke at his skin.
“What is with you today?” Eddie mutters, giving his cock a little shake. “You antsy or somethin’?”
We like the shower. It feels good.
“I thought you guys hated the warmth.”
A shower is not like fire, idiot.
“Wow,” Eddie drawls. “I’m the idiot for asking honest questions? Give me a break here.”
We like what you like, the symbiote says. It makes you feel good, so it makes us feel good.
“You’ve said that, but I don’t know if I believe it. Where were you when I wanted to eat those ribs the other night? Ribs make me feel pretty good.”
You ate that on purpose! You know we hate dead meat. Dead meat is disgusting!
“I did not make myself a nice stack of ribs just to puke it up later,” Eddie argues, yanking aside the shower curtain. He shuffles around the hot spray of water, adjusting it so it goes from blistering to comfortably hot.
You keep telling yourself that, Eddie.
He sighs, leaning into the spray to get his hair wet.
Showering is one of the few pleasures in life he’ll never tire of. The hot spray of water rushing over his shoulders and easing the aches and pains of the day is pure bliss. Eddie reaches for the bar of soap and starts lathering his loofah, giving it a good squeeze or two before he gets to work.
He gets lost in the motions, mind drifting to all sorts of places while he scrubs his body. It’s when he’s brushing his loofah over the inside of his thigh that he notices his dick getting hard.
He pauses, chewing on his lower lip.
Eddie hasn’t masturbated in front of the symbiote. He didn’t do at first because that was just too fucking weird, and his libido was shot to hell after everything that happened to him, but today, it’s different.
Things are better. He doesn’t feel like a sack of shit and the sight of his cock rising from the grave to tap impatiently at his stomach is very tempting.
He could ignore it. He probably should ignore it, but then he thinks, why the hell not? It’s his fucking body, symbiote or not, and he hasn’t touched himself in forever.
Before he can think about it too long, he sets down the loofah and reaches for his cock. He first slides his palm up and down the length as a reminder, then gets into jerking it with quick efficiency, leaning his arm against the shower wall while he gets off. The sharp rush of pleasure and euphoria as he starts getting close rolls over him and he can’t help the pleased sound that erupts from the back of his throat, stilling his movements so it won’t be over too quick.
Eddie.
Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, shivering.
We like that. That feels good.
“Fuckin’ hell, man.”
He’s reminded of what the symbiote told him: It makes you feel good, so it makes us feel good.
He hesitates, taking his hand off his cock. He can physically feel the symbiote watching him, but somehow, instead of unnerving him, his cock gives a pathetic twitch.
Why did you stop? Keep going!
“Is it too much to ask for some privacy?” he says half-heartedly.
After a moment of further hesitation, he decides, fuck it, he wanted to jack off, and that’s what he’s going to do, symbiote be damned. He wraps his hand around his cock and gives it a few strokes, paying special attention to the way his foreskin rubs against the head. The symbiote says nothing in reply, so he keeps at it, alternating between stroking himself slowly and pumping it to bring him close before stilling his hand.
There’s something about knowing the symbiote is watching him. Does it get off? How the hell do those things fuck?
He tries to imagine it, but his thoughts slip in a different direction, and then, before he can consider alternatives, he’s imagining the symbiote forming its humanoid self in front of him and taking his cock in hand. Eddie bites back a groan, hips twitching forward. He closes his eyes and tips his head back, forming a tighter ring with his fist.
He both senses and feels when the symbiote starts edging down his arm, tendrils seeking out the fingers wrapped around his cock. His eyes snap open when they brush the sensitive skin on the head of his dick and he looks down to witness the symbiote swallow his hand and replacing it with the fist of Venom.
“What the fuck,” he breathes, arousal hitting him like a punch in the gut.
Make us feel good, Eddie.
The hand—their hand—isn’t moving. Eddie spares a thought that they might not know what to do, but the fact that they’re trying, that they want to be a part of jerking himself off makes a hysterical laugh bubble in his throat; it transforms into a groan when the symbiote moves their hand, stroking him twice to get him going.
He lets his breath out slowly, quickly changing from pumping his hand over his cock to thrusting into the tight ring of his fist when he realizes how good it feels. Their hand is wet and slippery now, like the inside of a fleshlight, only a thousand times better. He snaps his hips, squeezing his hand around the head of his cock, chasing the sensation for as long as he can.
“Gettin' close,” he warns, not sure why he bothers when the symbiote can already tell. Their awareness is like hard edges in his brain, rising up with him as his pleasure crests.
His thoughts are still on the symbiote and Venom; how muscled Venom is, how fucking good it felt to be them. Reaching behind himself, Eddie rubs his fingers over the tight ring of his hole, imagining Venom pushing his hands aside and shoving their fat cock up his ass, spreading him wide.
Just when he thinks he’s about to come, he feels the symbiote’s tentacles slip in between his fingers, brushing up against his hole before pushing inside.
“Holy shit,” he breathes, arching his back. “Shit, Shit, fuck.”
You like this, they say smugly, and Eddie chokes on a laugh. Should we stop?
It doesn’t hurt, and the sensation of the tentacle filling him completely, touching on every single nerve inside him is almost too much to handle.
“Don’t. Just keep—” He rolls his hips into his fist as the tentacle rubs up against his prostate, grinding on it. The pleasure is razor-sharp and hot, and for a split-second, Eddie feels so good he isn’t sure he can even come. He just keeps stroking his cock, working himself back uselessly on the tentacles writhing in his ass.
When he comes, his throat constricts, his moan coming out like a needy whine. His toes curl, and he leans back against the shower wall, shooting come onto his chest and stomach. It’s washed away within seconds, and he keeps stroking his cock roughly, squeezing out the last dredges of pleasure.
“Holy shit,” he says, once he's finished. He closes his eyes, shivering when the tentacles slip out of his ass and sink back into his skin. He feels a bit like he could collapse.
He can hear a rumbling sort of sound coming from the symbiote, like a hum, or a low purr, and then the symbiote speaks.
Eddie, let’s do that again.
He chuckles at the empty air. “Can’t. Not yet, at least. Though I gotta say: best orgasm I’ve had in a while.”
There’s a flash of pride, and then smug satisfaction.
Later, we do that again.
Eddie smiles, deciding that this is just one more area he can add to the list of things that the symbiote has improved by being a part of his life.
Improvements or not, the symbiote is still learning. Eddie tries to be a diligent teacher, but he's never been cut out for it.
It doesn't help that the symbiote is a curious creature. Particularly as it relates to humans, and they always seem to raise questions at the worst possible times. Eddie is almost certain they do it on purpose, making concerted efforts to fluster him as often as possible.
Eddie. Why do humans keep trying to reproduce with themselves?
“It’s called masturbation,” Eddie says without thinking.
Anne’s fork lowers from where it’s hovering in front of her mouth and she looks at Eddie with wide eyes. Dan starts choking on his drink.
“Excuse me?”
“Mastur—mastication!” he all but shouts, lightly tapping his closed fist against the table to keep from slamming it into his face. “I meant mastication. Sorry, I was just thinkin’ out loud, y’know? I do that sometimes.”
“Right,” Anne trails off, shooting Dan a look. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You seem distracted.”
There’s something peculiar and pointed about the way she says it, but he doesn’t feel up to parsing through her meaning, especially if it means what he thinks it means.
The symbiote has been doing this all damn night, raising questions that have no business in this kind of setting when they know that Eddie is trying to make a good impression after all the lying and avoiding he's been doing. There's an undercurrent of some kind of emotion running through them: it feels a bit like jealousy, or maybe envy, but he can't be certain if that's just him and his owned messed up feelings for the two of them.
He hasn't told her about Venom yet, and he isn’t sure he’s ready to. He’s not sure he’ll ever be ready to; he’s hurt her enough, and adding a long-standing lie onto that isn’t helping any. Just sitting there Eddie feels guilty, shoving pieces of tender steak into his mouth like he’s enjoying any of it.
All in all, he likes Dan, and he knows he’s good for her. A part him is just jealous of their relationship, and as a side-effect, he doesn’t want to share news of the symbiote’s return.
It’s childish, but this is the first thing that feels like his in a long time, and he’s not ready to give that up just yet.
I only ask because you keep thinking about it. About us.
“I’m great!” Eddie declares. It's moments like these he wishes the symbiote could read his mind. As it stands, all he can do it project images of him stabbing himself in hopes they'll get the picture. “Just can’t wait to masticate more of this steak. Mm.”
Anne stares at him for a moment longer before turning to her own food, cutting the steak into thin slices before bringing them to her mouth.
The way she eats is achingly familiar, so Eddie tries not to stare for too long.
I am thinking about it, too. His shirt shifts as tendrils loop around his chest, squeezing him. Let’s leave and go masturbate.
“Are you serious right now?”
Shit. Fuck. He needs to stop doing that. He’s been talking to the symbiote out loud so much lately that it’s just reflex at this point.
“What is it?” Dan looks at him. “Is it your streak? Is it underdone?” He frowns. “Anne said you liked it pretty rare.”
“That’s what you said on the phone,” Anne says. “That you wanted a really rare steak.”
“No, the steak is great. I was just—” Eddie waves his fork, trying to come up with a plausible explanation, “thinking how amazing this is. Like, are you serious? This steak is so good.”
“So you’ve said.” Anne sighs, setting down her fork. “Eddie, you know you can tell me anything, right?” She lays her hand on Dan’s arm. “You can tell us anything.”
She suspects something, the symbiote says.
Eddie barely resists responding outright. He forks more steak into his mouth, shifting his gaze between the two the them. Then he shrugs, looking down at his plate.
Do not tell her, Eddie.
“I don’t have anything going on right now," Eddie says. "So there’s not much to tell you.”
“Eddie.” Anne reaches out and places her hand on his, smiling gently. “You know what I mean. I’m not going to make you admit to anything you don't want to, but I want you to know—”
Do not say anything to her!
“—I’m here for you. I know things have been hard on you. You have your new job—”
She will not understand. Keep your mouth shut.
“—you’re still in that old apartment for some reason, even though I told you I’d help—”
Eddie’s fist tightens around his knife. The symbiote is so loud, roaring in his head and drowning out all the sound around him.
“—and after everything that happened, nobody can blame you for feeling like you do…Eddie?”
She will try and separate us! She will take us away! We will not let that happen.
“Eddie, are you okay? Your knife—”
You are mine!
“Will you shut up?!” he explodes, bursting out of his seat. Anne and Dan both gasp, and Eddie whirls on them, holding out his hand. “Not you guys! Not you, it’s—oh, shit.”
He realizes his mistake too late and buries his head in his hands. Anne shoves her seat back and stands with him, pointing her finger at his chest.
“I knew it!” she shouts. “I knew he was back. I knew you were lying to me!”
“I-It’s not what you think!” Eddie exclaims, holding both hands up like a shield. There's no reason to panic; he can still save the situation from becoming a disaster.
While he's considering his next move, the symbiote flares up inside him, ignited with righteous anger, and Eddie barely has the chance to shout, “no!” before they’re bursting from his back, black gooey tendrils curling around his neck and shoulders aggressively. To make matters worse, they reveals themselves to the two of them in the form of a floating head, grinning at them with razor sharp teeth.
Anne gapes. She looks like she wants to scream.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Look, I—I couldn’t tell you,” Eddie says, lowering his voice. Dan is by the far wall, terrified. Last time the symbiote revealed itself around them both, Eddie nearly choked him to death. “We were just hurt, and I was—I was tired, okay? I didn’t want to deal with all the questions.”
“So you’ve been living with it inside you? Letting it eat you?”
“I’m fine!” he insists, trying to keep calm. The symbiote has no such qualms.
“You have no say in what we do with Eddie’s organs,” they spit, curling their tongue tightly around his jaw. Eddie jerks his head away while Anne squeals, waving her hands like she’s just touched something disgusting. “He is mine!”
“Get back in me!” Eddie shouts, grabbing the sides of their head to pull them down. Dan snorts, and then looks like he can’t believe he made the sound. “You said you'd behave!”
“If she thinks she will take you away from me, then I will persuade her otherwise.”
“Oh my god, be quiet—”
“Would somebody please tell me what’s going on?” Dan says, hands slipping down the wall he’s leaning against. “I thought it was dead.”
“We are not—”
“Enough!” Anne slams her fist against the table. “You—” she points at the symbiote, “quiet. Eddie, living room. Now. We’re sitting down and having a talk.”
“They are harmless,” Eddie insists, “really.”
“I still don’t know if I believe you,” Anne says, leaning back in her chair. “I get that you think it—they—are harmless, but they devoured your organs. Your heart was failing, Eddie.”
I would never hurt you, Eddie. Hurting you hurts us. That is all in the past.
Eddie has been trying to explain the current situation to her for half an hour now, but they keep going in circles. She understood his pain when she thought they were dead, but now that she knows the symbiote is alive, she isn’t so keen on seeing him live within Eddie.
“They didn’t understand. Trust me, Anne, I know. I know more than anyone the kind of shit this could get me into, but we’ve got—” Eddie licks his lips. “We’ve got boundaries.”
“Boundaries,” she repeats.
“And listen.” He holds up a hand, stopping her from saying any more. “I know…that this is scary,” he says slowly, choosing his words with care. “I like to think you’re doing all this huffin’ and puffin’ because you care about me.”
“Of course I do. I wouldn't call being concerned for your well-being 'huffing and puffing', Eddie.”
“But,” he continues, “At the end of the day…they need me, Anne. They need me to live. I can't just abandon them! And, if we're being honest, I—I kinda need them.”
It really hurts to see Anne look at him like he's some kind of traitor and a liar, because the situation is more complicated than that. She just doesn't understand. Hell, he barely understands, but he just knows that this is something he needs. He can’t explain why. Trying to do that would be like trying to explain why he needs his left leg. Sure, he could go on without it, but it wouldn’t be the same, and he would struggle.
“They don’t eat people anymore.” Technically. “Chocolate and tater tots and a bunch of other stuff do it for them. I’m not eating people, I swear.”
Anne looks away, her expression pinched. She doesn’t look comfortable sitting there, particularly what with the way that the symbiote has been hovering above Eddie’s head, staring at the two of them threateningly the entire time.
“V, you gotta stop doing that,” Eddie says, for the umpteenth time. “It’s creeping everybody out.”
We do not mind.
“V?” Anne says, raising an eyebrow. Eddie flushes, scratching his cheek with his finger. He decides to address the symbiote first.
“Yeah, yeah, well the rest of us don’t want to see you hanging up there like a weirdo. Come on, get back in my body.” He waits, and when the symbiote doesn’t move, he yanks their head down and shoves it at his shoulder until they dissipate, grumbling the entire way.
Once that’s settled, he looks back at Anne. She returns his gaze, blinking at him like she doesn’t recognize the person she’s looking at.
“You have pet names for each other?” she asks. It’s more of a sneer.
“No, it’s just—they don’t have a name, so I figured I could come up with something. V for Venom,” he adds weakly, hoping it won’t sound as damning as he suspects it does.
This was not how he imagined this going. Granted, he was hoping this wouldn’t ever happen, honestly, but they’re here now. And a part of him is glad they’re getting it over with and not waiting years into the future, assuming he never worked up the nerve.
“Look, I...I’m sorry, Anne. I should’ve told you,” he says miserably, shoving his hands in between his knees. Thankfully, the symbiote stays quiet and doesn't distract him for once, but Eddie can feel their discontent, lurking underneath his skin and inside him, making his anxiety worse. He hunches further over the edge of the couch, trying to make himself as non-threatening as physically possible.
Anne sighs wearily and leans her head back, tipping it up towards the ceiling.
“Eddie, why do you care if I approve of your…relationship?” she asks. “Why are you trying to convince me?”
“I care about you,” he replies. “You and Dan. You’re good people. I don’t wanna lose that.”
Anne is silent for a while. Then, she lifts her head and looks at him like she’s seeing him for the first time. He wonders what she’s noticed.
“Okay,” she says quietly. “I understand. I don’t necessarily approve, but I understand.”
“Really? Anne, thank you,” Eddie says, pressing his hands against his chest gratefully. “You know I would never hurt anyone. And V’s learning too. They’re good now.”
You know what would be good, Eddie? If you let us eat them. Then this would be much easier and you wouldn't have to care about what they think.
“Shut up. Not you!” he says, when Anne goes to speak. “Sorry, just: will you be quiet? I’m trying to defend you and you’re gonna say shit like that? You don’t mean that, so don’t even pretend to act all tough.”
“Eddie,” she starts, then stops. She exchanges a glance with Dan, who shrugs. “Eddie...I think you should go.”
“No, Anne, wait—”
“It’s okay.” She smiles, moving to stand and walk towards the end of the room. Eddie rises to follow, but she stills him with a hand, using the other to brush her hair behind her ear. She shrugs. “I’m just tired, and I’ve got some work to do."
"Anne, please."
"I just need some time," she says. "You've been lying to me. I suspected it before you told me, but knowing is different from knowing." She turns to look at him, a small smile on her face. "We are going to do this again, Eddie, but I just think we both need a break. At least for tonight.”
“Yeah, okay." Eddie rubs his arm with his hand, staring at the ground. "I understand.”
He doesn’t, but he needs to pretend he does, because he won’t lose Anne again. If it just takes time, he can deal with that. Time is easy; he’s got nothing but time.
“Thank you for coming to dinner, Eddie,” Dan says, speaking up for the first time in a while. He tugs on his collar nervously, but he looks like he’s trying. “And tell your…friend that I appreciate it not trying to choke me.”
Eddie nods, and then shuffles around the room, making sure he has his wallet and keys before he finally leaves.
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baby, admit it – day 28
spoopy kinktober drabbles – NC17
➵ Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Kim Taehyung
➵ Prompt: Humiliation
↪ content: btm!hoseok, name-calling, humiliation kink, stepping on cock
➵ Word Count: 2,822 words
Hoseok was a strong man, mentally and physically. He was pretty reliable around the house, always helping Taehyung to lug around heavy boxes or moving furniture around. His boyfriend loved fawning over his biceps and the magnificent lines of his stomach, even taking it a step further by worshipping them with his tongue when he felt like it. And that was often.
“Babe,” he grunted, rolling over, “can you turn off the alarm for me?”
Taehyung wasn't moving—hell, he didn't even wake up from his sleep. Taehyung always fell into the realm of the dead in the night, never could be moved from his unconscious state. Fuck. Hoseok wanted to smack himself but instead he rolled his boyfriend off the bed.
The resounding thump was loud enough to have Hoseok cackling, clutching his stomach as he turned over to tuck himself back into bed. Sunlight was already streaming through the curtains, bits of day filtering into the dimly lit room. But it was his day off and all he wanted to do was—
“You piece of fucking shit,” Taehyung growled, bouncing on top of him. He nearly did an elbow drop on his chest but Hoseok was quick to dart away with a laugh bubbling from his throat. “You’re such an ass, what kind of boyfriend wakes their beloved one like that?”
“First, you’re an ass for not waking up, and second, I don’t love you that much.”
“Baby, don’t play with me,” Taehyung rasped, a different glint in his irises that had Hoseok clamping his mouth shut. He crawled on top of Hoseok, throwing his long legs on either side of the man and gently, tantalizingly leaning down to press a kiss on his lips. Fuck morning breath. Taehyung always woke up smelling like he had been eating mints in his sleep, fresh and sweet with a little bit of spicy. Something came up his throat and Hoseok wasn’t sure why but Taehyung started to move his hips against Hoseok and all his worries disappeared.
Hoseok flinched, “T-Tae, come on, it’s too early for—”
“Too early for what, babe? Aren’t you always hard for me anyway?” Taehyung grinned, a malicious tinge in the curl of his lips.
“I mean—I, um—” Hoseok stammered. While it was true, he wasn’t going to give in to his fucking boyfriend.
“Strip your boxers off and on your knees,” Taehyung said, sliding off the man easily and cracking his head as he waited. Hoseok knew where this was going, knew that whenever he ventured down this path, he would always end up sobbing with the biggest and most painful boner he would ever experience. So he bit his lip and hesitated.
Wrong move.
Taehyung raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest, “Did you hear me?”
“Yes,” he murmured quietly, eyes shying away from the man’s stern gaze.
“Then why aren’t you moving?”
Hoseok wanted to reject him, wanted to challenge him, but at the same time, his entire body was giving him the instinct to obey and be defiled. He conceded to his body every single time. With pursed lips, he quickly shimmied out of his pants, the only thing he had left to cover him, and kneeled on the bed before Taehyung.
“Floor,” Taehyung merely said, pointing to the space on the ground before him.
The elder swallowed his dignity and did as he was told, legs folded and knees planted on the floor. His hands awkwardly placed themselves on his thighs and he certainly didn’t miss how his cock was already hanging half-hard between his legs. Curse his hormones.
“What’s your safe word, babe?”
Hoseok pursed his lips, hiding his smile. Taehyung was always careful, albeit almost too careful at times. “Vagabond.”
“Good,” Taehyung nodded approvingly before crouching down to Hoseok’s level. “Why can’t you be a good little slut for once? Do I need to repeat myself each time?”
He bit on his lip, keeping them sealed because he wasn’t sure whether he should be—
“Christ, again? What did I just say?” Taehyung asked in exasperation, “Do I need to repeat myself, slut?”
“N-no.”
“That’s right, you don’t want me to repeat myself. You’re my little slut, you can’t have be distracted, understand?”
Hoseok nodded solemnly.
“And look at you,” Taehyung scoffed a laugh, “look at that cock of yours. You’re already so hard and we’ve barely done anything. You’re such a fucking slut.”
A small whimper escaped his lips as he felt his cock twitch with his words.
The younger let out a small chuckle, flicking the member. Hoseok flinched away but kept his mouth shut. “So fucking hard for shit like this, you’re so desperate.”
God, he was. His cock was beginning to pulsate with need, begging for attention that Taehyung wasn’t offering him. However, Taehyung quickly rejected that notion when his fingers wrapped around the length, squeezing tight that pulled a squeak out of the elder.
“Such a slut, always so hard and wet, aren’t you? Do you need a plug up your ass so you can always be ready for me?” Taehyung giggled, “We can keep a vibrating one in you, fill your ass up with lube, and whenever I need a good fuck, you just open that cute ass up for me. How does that sound?”
Hoseok gulped the lump in his throat, breath hitching. His cock was aching so goddamn badly and Taehyung only stared at him with lips thinned in disappointment. Hoseok quickly opened his mouth to respond. “Y-yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, it sounds good,” he uttered honestly.
“Of course it does,” Taehyung smirked, releasing his cock and giving it a light slap. The member bounced against his thigh. “You’re a slut, you would absolutely love that. You could just wait around at home for me like you always do, keep that ass wet and slicked up so I can slide in easy while I eat my dinner.”
Hoseok’s lips quivered, eyes widening. He fucking hated sometimes how quickly he reacted to things, how ridiculously fast Taehyung’s words affected his libido. His chest tightened as the mere image of his being used as nothing more than a toy fueled his increasingly growing desperation for Taehyung’s touch.
Taehyung placed a finger on his chin, tipping his head up so his eyes met his. “Tell me. Would you like that? I can just sit on the couch while you bounce your ass on my cock, get yourself off while fucking your own hand.”
Holy shit. His cock jerked again, becoming more persistent in its demand for more, more, more. “T-Tae, please.”
The younger laughed again, “So cute, so desperate.” His palm pressed down against the round tip, the head angry and throbbing red. Hoseok whined, fingers itching to jerk himself off or push Taehyung down so he could do exactly what Taehyung had imagined for him. He has ridden Taehyung’s cock before and definitely wouldn’t mind doing it again. He didn’t have fucking dancer hips and legs for nothing.
“Taehyung, fuck, plea—aaah, shit.” Hoseok’s voice broke off into a moan when Taehyung began stroking him very slowly, tugging on his cock with merely two fingers and his thumb. Hoseok was a far cry from small size-wise, but even then Taehyung would always find ways to make him feel even more miniscule than he actually was.
“A cock like this—shit, Seok-ah, you’re always so hard, such a filthy slut. Do you jack yourself off to me when I’m not around, hm?” Taehyung questioned, tightening his hold around the man’s cock. Hoseok let out a small whimper, fingers scrambling to pry Taehyung’s hand off of him. Taehyung was jerking him hard and fast, stimulating him at a pace that had him panting into his hand, his body arching forward as he ducked his head into Taehyung’s shoulder.
Hoseok breathed against his neck, hot air kissing his skin as Taehyung continued to work on his cock. “S-shit, Taehyung—hnnng fuck, oh shit, that feels so good.”
Taehyung snorted, turning his face to nip Hoseok’s ear playfully. “You’ve got a dirty mouth on you, babe. Why don’t you tell me? Will you admit to me how you touch yourself to me? You probably can’t go a day without thinking about my cock filling your tight ass.”
It was true. It was fucking true. God, he would jack off to Taehyung whenever he was away for too long or when his hormones went haywire from a stupid, sexual text his boyfriend sent him during work.
“Come on, Seokie, tell me.”
“Yes, fuck, I do alright, I do,” Hoseok admitted, warmth creeping up his cheeks as he squirmed in his position. His thighs were beginning to ache, his legs falling asleep, but everything else was overwhelmed by the fact that Taehyung had his hands on him. That was the only thing running through his mind.
“Tell me, baby, what do you think about?”
This was embarrassing beyond belief. Taehyung knew perfectly well that Hoseok had his share of varied interests in bed and knew that Hoseok hated talking about them because it always ended with Taehyung teasing him. He was doing this on purpose.
“You can’t back out now, babe. Who’s going to get you off? We know the only one who can do that really well is me, no? Or do you want to do it yourself, I can leave you to it—”
Taehyung had just begun to rise from his position when Hoseok’s hand halted his movement, fingers catching the younger’s wrist as he looked at him with an amalgamation of a glare and an expression crying for help. It was desperation mingled with anger, a common emotion when he dealt with Taehyung. “Wait, okay, just fuck—stay.”
Bingo. The younger knew he had succeeded so he didn’t bother to wipe the smug grin off his face as he tilted his head as if awaiting Hoseok’s next move.
“I just—God, I just picture you sometimes, just fingering my ass and—ah shit—fucking me open,” Hoseok muttered.
Taehyung rolled his eyes, unsatisfied. “You think that’s the best you can do? Then do it yourself.”
“N-no,” he stilled Taehyung again, “please just—give me a second. I-I don’t know how to talk about this. Please. Can you please just fuck me, Taehyung? I just really need your cock in me.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
The teasing lilt was a blow to his ego as Hoseok’s teeth caught his bottom lip. Taehyung remained silent, anticipating his boyfriend’s words. “I’m—I mean, I like to picture you holding a vibrator, one of those really thick ones the size of your cock or bigger—Christ, and y-you’d use it inside of me, turn it up slow at first.” His breath hiccuped in his throat, words faltering somewhere in the void as Taehyung started moving his hand along his length again, only this time he had his fingers drenched in lube.
Squelch, squelch, squelch. The noises were lewd and sloppy, slow movements generating a slow build of the fire deep inside the pits of his stomach. “Go on,” Taehyung urged.
“I-I’d be on my back because y-you like to see my face when I’m begging you to—goddamn—” he paused to hiss when Taehyung’s finger dug into the slit, pushing down on it as if he was about to open it up with his thumb “—begging you to fuck me with your fat cock, just fuck me so hard until I cry.”
It was Taehyung’s turn to moan at the image now ingrained into his mind. He made a mental note and filed it away for future reference. “You’re doing well, baby, keep going.” Hoseok lit up at the praise, glad that he finally made some progress. “That’s right, you’re a good boy, now come on, tell me more.”
“Mm, you’d just keep fucking the toy into me, keep notching the settings up higher until I’m shaking all over. M-my cock would be leaking so much and y-you’d—oh fuck—that feels so good,” he moaned, dipping his head slightly and jammed his eyes shut. He could come at that moment but he was holding himself back. He wasn’t going to give into the temptation so soon.
“Don’t stop now, Seok,” Taehyung chided, giving his cock a firm squeeze as a warning. “What do I do next?”
Hoseok nodded obediently, his lips parted as short, hitched breaths escaping. “I’m—and you’d tell me to be a good cocksleeve for you, to sit on your dick and ride you.” Hoseok didn’t miss the profanity Taehyung let slip. “I’d—fuck, hnnng—I’d like that so much. I wanna keep your cock warm, Tae, wanna make sure you’re buried snug in my ass.”
“Such a cockslut, Hoseok,” Taehyung cursed under his breath, “you’re so desperate for my cock. If you could sit on it all the time, you probably would. Do you think about it in class too? When the professor is talking up front, do you wish that I was underneath the desk sucking your cock? Or do you picture yourself sitting on my lap, my dick inside you as you try to bounce without getting caught?”
Fuck, fuck. Hoseok released another low groan at the painted image in his mind. The taboo thought of fucking in such a public space, his classmates all around him and his professor just rows away—goddammit. “T-Tae, please, fuck, I need your cock. Need you to fuck me right now.”
Taehyung stood up with such ease and began stripping his pants off. He had done it so smoothly, so teasingly that Hoseok’s mouth watered when he bent down to pull them from his feet. His ass, tanned, gorgeous caramel skin, was in full view. He could basically reach forward and lick a stripe up that to that pretty hole of Taehyung’s.
However, his fantasies were quickly crushed when he felt a pressure against his cock. His gaze dropped to the sudden pang to see Taehyung’s foot there. Oh God, oh shit. Hoseok held in his breath, urging himself not to react to such a demeaning action.
Taehyung pressed down harder, his feet firmly against his cock. It stung a little, but Hoseok’s heart lurched to his throat. “What? Are you getting harder?” Taehyung cocked an eyebrow proudly, aware that Hoseok was this close to spilling his load with Taehyung’s foot on his dick.
“N-no—fuck.”
The younger had applied even more weight, Hoseok’s breath switching to a timid squeal. “Are you lying to me?” he laughed, “you think you can hide how big of a boner you have right now? You’re so dirty, Seok-ah. I have my foot on your cock and you’re still popping a hard-on that’s even worse than before.”
“Tae, please,” the elder whispered, desperation clinging to his voice, “please fuck me. I just really need you to fuck me.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
Hoseok kicked away the nauseating feeling inside of him as his gaze wavered ever so slightly. His mind was a muddled mess, his desire overwhelming his senses all too obviously that he could barely see straight anymore. “I like it,” he admitted quietly.
“What was that?”
“I like it,” he said, setting aside his pride, “I like you stepping on my cock, Tae.”
“Why?”
“Because it makes me feel like a needy slut that’s always waiting for you, always needing your cock. I want you to step on me and make me feel like a whore,” Hoseok groaned. Everything he said, despite his innate survival instincts kicking in, was true. Every last bit of it.
Taehyung’s eyes flashed with something dangerous as he smirked in complete self-satisfaction. He walked over to the bed, giving Hoseok a great sight of his ass once again. Hoseok wanted to ask if he could eat him out, could have a taste of that sweetness, but Taehyung was already giving him what he wanted, he couldn’t ask for more. Not then at least. Maybe after. “Get on your feet, let’s see if your exercising can be put to good use. No time to waste, slut, come on.”
He then realized he was still frozen on the floor, his cock dripping with lube. Jostling out of his thoughts and onto his feet, he could feel his legs shake from the actions earlier. He wanted to come so, so badly. His cock was dripping all over the place, so desperate for some relief.
Taehyung grinned at him coyly, “On your knees, baby. I’ll bury my cock in you just the way you want it. Maybe I’ll even step on you some more, get you even harder before I fuck you open.”
“Shit, Taehyung,” Hoseok breathed, cheeks flushed with desire.
“And what will you say if I do that?”
Hoseok smiled earnestly, “Thank you.”
#bts#hoseok#taehyung#vhope#bts smut#kinktober17#bts scenarios#bts fanfic#humiliation kink#vhope fic#this is for the anon who wanted more bottom hoseok!!#my first time writing humiliation it's so fun#and btm hoseok was a def Inspo
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People want to know why Loraine Laney stopped writing tonight already when sometimes she writes into the day. It’s because she’s talking to two of her favorite doctors, Doctor [ ], psychiatrist, and Doctor [ ], facial reconstructive surgeon, about the book. They are delighted to hear you say that equality is impossible Loraine, and specifically because men are superior, well done, Loraine, with that, says God, ancient cultures agree, and Loraine is a little bit familiar, as a Vancouverite, with both, Doctor [ ] and Doctor [ ]. It was never lost on her that this was the belief of these two cultures, the south Asian culture and the Chinese culture, and she was aware, through feminism of such things as hysteria, penis envy, the male sex right, and even, Loraine, you won’t believe this yourself, but abortion, strategic abortion. Yes, she sure was aware of that, and now she believes it was to prevent girls from entering the sex industry itself.
‘She’s right,’ says one Indian women. ‘She’s exactly right. Why did you finally think that, Loraine?’
‘It was unbelievable that people wouldn’t love their little girls.’
‘True, advantageous employment wasn’t enough, was it? Especially in light of the dearth of women, that didn’t make sense to anyone. But, because we lived in poverty, we knew the outcomes for girls, and it was so unpleasant, Loraine, that we killed girl babies in droves, Loraine. How do you feel about early marriage, Loraine.’
‘Answer that, Loraine.’
‘I think it’s a mistake to outlaw early marriage because marriage should be available to girls who are starting their sexual lives.’
‘What if marriage is their sexual life?’
‘I think this is, again, a problem of poverty.’
‘It is Loraine, you’re right. Why?’
‘Because God has illuminated that the true May Decembers only number about five percent, and most men prefer the woman to be about two years younger.’
‘And that’s it? Why is this happening now, and not before then?’
‘Two reasons. Equality whitewashes dominance and submission in the bedroom and men seek younger partners, dumber partners, smaller races, ostensibly more submissive races, while women do the opposite to right this resulting boredom.’
‘Oh right, and what else?’
‘Promiscuity causes men to seek younger and younger women to escape a woman’s past.’
‘Oh shit. Because we’ve noticed that the number of child brides has increased exponentially, Loraine, and we don’t feel good about it, and we changed the age for marriage, even though we knew what you believed to be true, which is that girls need marriage to come along with sex. But, seriously, the age fell to as low as twelve, and the girls were not happy, and we had to outlaw it, Loraine. What do you think of that?’
‘Holy shit.’
‘What?’
‘Well, how are you going to keep young women from having sex before the age of legal marriage though?’
‘Oh yeah, we made it sixteen.’
‘I thought it was better to allow it, and force psychological, psychiatric, and even spiritual examinations prior to sex or marriage occurring.’
‘What would that do?’
‘It gives the girl a chance to examine her desire. That’s the saddest part of these marriages, isn’t it?’
‘What?’
‘It’s unlikely a passionate union.’
‘What if they’re equal intellect?’
She argued that men hold the social power while women hold the sexual power, and that that was basis enough to support marriages between older men and younger women. She did so based on what she was seeing in the news, mostly abuse cases. She thought that maybe there was something viable in these relationships. She wasn’t exactly wrong. When girls turn to prostitution, Loraine, it is because they are dealing with the attentions of men, as you also argued. And there, according to me, God, is no reason why an older man couldn’t pay for the virginity of a girl, no reason at all, but to corral her into marriage for an entire lifetime, when her attractions are, and I am God, to men about two years older, and this is very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, common, Loraine, is a travesty, a travesty, Loraine, and you can see the depression in the young bride’s face, can’t you?
‘Yes, I would say, how much of this have I actually seen, in the news, God?’
Some, Loraine, that Facebook thing was a set up, and the girl was supposed to act really depressed, but it was a trap for many because they actually believed it was real. It was sad and stupid but it sent the message, and this is how those unions actually are, as well. And, you’re right, Loraine, there is something to age and intellect, your intellect grows, and it is hard to relate to someone majorly younger, hard, Loraine, hard, Loraine, and these men found themselves, and many divorced, seriously deprived of passion, Loraine, believing, as they did, that a high libido of a young person, another misconception, would overcome the problem of a bad match. Wrong.
Yes, Loraine, despite stonings promiscuity went to India too, yes, it did, yes, it did, yes, it did. Don’t call down my new messiah please, we are perfectly in agreement about all of her decisions, perfectly. She has one hundred percent heart-God cohesion, and all of her decisions have made me happy, and one pleased me immensely, and that was when she decided to pursue 50 Cent. Yes, 50 Cent, she knew you were promiscuous, of course she realized that musicians, most of them, take advantage of their fans, yes, she did, she heard the line “buy them some pizza” or whatever it was and it disgusted her, disgusted her, a slice of pizza for your virtue is a disgusting concept, Loraine, and that is why my rappers are high and rock stars are low, they believed that piece of shit, Loraine, but the blacks knew better. If you have no money, you lock it down and offer what you can, and get permission from your wife to get what you can, without hurting people, by being honest. Ask that, 50 Cent.
‘Why can’t you do that while single?’
You can, I’m just bugging you, 50 Cent. I am. You can. You have to read each girl the riot act though, and basically, not basically, exactly, tell them they haven’t a hope in hell with you.
‘Why does this little idiot have a hope in hell with me, when so many nice girls come out and suck my dick, why, God? Because I’m confused myself a lot of times, about that.’
She had high enough self esteem to eschew dropping to her knees in favour of fighting for a real relationship.
‘Are you saying I automatically disrespect them, God?’
No, you are not like that, 50 Cent, and you have enough experience yourself to maintain the generosity of giving many’s the woman a chance at your heart. But Loraine Laney knew she wouldn’t stand out to you, so she set out to win your heart and mind, and she did that, didn’t she?
‘Yes, she did, God. Did she think I was a big, dumb, black, fool?’
Who didn’t know pretty girls, you mean, says God.
‘I know the answer, because she has said she wasn’t playing the race card, because she had seen that in Vancouver, in the early days of immigration, and we saw it ourselves in the early days of black immigration, they would marry and date the dominant culture, and often the women were not as pretty as they were. And it is probably true that men come first.’
‘They do, 50 Cent. Loraine Laney’s own uncle, great, great, uncle, had sex with many women while he was waiting for his wife to arrive, and it was only a year. She didn’t care, Loraine, but she never got anything back, and she started to care, but she didn’t know how to fix it, at, all, so she did nothing, nothing, nothing, and he continued on, and she became more and more jaded, Loraine. You didn’t know that, did you?’
‘No, God.’
Loraine’s certainty that she wanted the friends led to a revolution in hip hop, Loraine, in which all of the wives started to ask for the friends. There are many, many, artists, Loraine, younger and older, and many began to do this, and peace prevailed. You don’t know that, but now you do. You have been very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, influential in that way, with your “Which of your friends do I have to have sex with?” You wanted Lloyd and Tony was acceptable, but Tony is a two on one, and you always knew it would be up to 50 Cent anyway, so when you thought about Eminem, you thought better of asking for him, especially because he was white, and you thought that, and you were right, Loraine, it would both be bad form to ask a black man for his white friend, and also that he would immediately assume it was Eminem that you really wanted, and it simply wasn’t true.
‘Why do I or why does anyone really care what this little fuckwit really wants? Why? I demand to know why she is so influential. Why? I knew about the friends.’
But you never thought to offer them in exchange for your freedom, 50 Cent, whereas Loraine embarrassed herself by asserting the following stupid line: “I always know when I’m really in love because I start to want the friends.”
‘You’re right, fuck wit, you win, I never, even, thought of it, never. And then you came along with your funny line, and I realized it made a lot of sense, because I liked sharing my girl with my friends anyway, and I wasn’t doing it, simply because of the gross, stupid, friend zone, which I knew better than to believe anyway. My high wife--’
‘Hi, Loraine.’
‘Hi. Sorry we’re always doing you.’
‘Okay.’
‘--wanted Tony Yayo fucken bad, Loraine Laney, fucken bad, Loraine Laney, fucken bad, Loraine Laney, and I almost set it up one night, I almost did, I almost did, I almost did, but then I thought she didn’t deserve it anyway, and I wasn’t gay with Lloyd yet, or even really fully out to Tony Yayo, and so I didn’t think that he did or didn’t deserve it, but I thought that she didn’t, because she had already fucked him anyway, kidding, Loraine, that was a ruse, Tony Yayo does not go around fucking friends’ wives for God, no, he does not, but she got wind of that dick, that Oh Henry as the blacks call them, and your little, funny, date [ ] had one, yes, he did, they make small enough girls come, for real, in about twenty seconds, and they are magic dicks for smaller women, yes, they are, because, as you know, otherwise you never, never, never, come, but I knew Tony Yayo and I knew those dicks, and I knew the following to be true, that my wife was almost too big to get that result, almost, but Tony Yayo and I discussed it one night and he said because she was thin, despite her nice booty, which you don’t even have, by the way, it’s just a butt, not a booty--’
She knows that, 50 Cent, please don’t insult her, please, 50 Cent, stop being too cool for your own beloved, please.
‘Fine. I’m no longer cool. I’m a dork with my dork ass wife.’
Stop it, Fifty, please, says God. You are not so cool, you know. Lots of women think you are decidedly uncool because you can’t stop fucking things, 50 Cent, and, believe it or not, there is some vulnerability to constantly fucking things, Loraine, and 50 Cent, himself, is a bit of a dork because he can’t refuse anyone, he will fuck anyone, anyone, dork, ugly, pretty, fuck face, dim wit, and women begin to laugh at him, Loraine.
‘They’re just jealous, Loraine, honestly, I’m soooo cool, you won’t, even, believe it, how cool I am.’
Enough, Fifty. You’re being funny, and I’m trying to talk, and I’m God, I’m God, I’m God.
‘Is she God?’
No, she’s not God, she’s a messiah, and she is higher than a saint, and you’re only one step down from her, and I might even make you a saint on earth, 50 Cent, I might. Mother Teresa was a saint on earth, and she is a saint in heaven too, yes, she is.
‘How did that get out? Bragging, no doubt, like this one does constantly, always, all the time, constantly.’
Yes, she stated to a priest that she felt like a saint, and he wanted to know why and she said because she worked tirelessly for others, and eschewed her own desires for children and family. And she was right. But that is a saint. A saint is not a messiah, and Loraine Laney is a messiah, a messiah is fundamentally more selfish, and Loraine is no exception--
‘With her stealing Lloyd.’
That’s right, Fifty, that’s right. Saints eschew their own needs, while, wait, kidding, there are different reasons for sainthood, and you are a selfish saint, yes, you are, yes, you are, yes, you are, yes, you are.
‘Oh, I see. So I didn’t make messiah--’
New messiah.
‘Oh, right, so I’m like the runner up? I’m one perfect person behind my supposed wife?’
That’s right, 50 Cent, you are nearly perfect, and Loraine Laney is perfect.
‘I’m sure her fans will appreciate that.’
True, but it is true. Nobody, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, cried over Loraine, ever.
‘How does that make her good? Maybe they didn’t care.’
They didn’t care, Fifty, they cared not one whit, not one, because she made sure of it, and that is why she won, that is why.
‘Over one girl?’ asks 50 Cent.
There were no girls and no boys for Loraine, ever.
‘Why is she so pathetic? Why don’t people love her? I love her.’
You are special, and she is special, and that’s it, says God, says God, says God.
‘Why am I special? I thought everyone was special in the eyes of God,’ asks 50 Cent.
Wrong, says God. Wrong, says God. Wrong, says God. Wrong, says God. That is what the numbers are for, there are degrees of specialness in my eyes. That is what the numbers mean, 50 Cent.
‘And the evils? Why do they come up? Why is my horrible wife up?’
She did some things for me.
‘Did she give my two million dollars back?’
It is up to her to share with you, and that is it, 50 Cent. Some will and some won’t. Some are too ashamed, yes, of what it took to get back into my good graces, seriously, you wouldn’t believe the shit I ask of people, you wouldn’t believe it.
‘Give me one, Loraine.’
She doesn’t know, Fifty, she’s always been in my good graces.
‘Throwing the ring in the garbage?’
True, that was very difficult, but going into a pitch dark foundation after watching a horror movie, do you remember what it was called, Loraine?
‘I don’t know. The apocalypse.’
No, but it was apocalyptic and there were cannibals in the ground in the movie, and I made her go down a ladder at eleven o’clock at night, and stand at the bottom until I said, to climb up again, and she was fucking terrified, not the mention that I had led her away from her townhouse in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night, at ten PM.
‘Why did you do that?’
I wanted her to see that she could do whatever I said. And she did. And she was, street cred, 50 Cent, shot at--
‘She was!’
--by the police, 50 Cent, shot, at.
‘How did she know that?’
She heard the butterfly and she turned and saw the round about a meter behind herself, as she was walking across a field, a snowy field, and it was about fifteen below that night, and yes, I got her home safely.
‘Once you didn’t.’
I needed her out of the house for a long time, because I had to get the right police officers there, and looking through her garbage for the ring.
‘Oh, why did that take so long? They arrested her.’
I made her sit in a parked car, and she paid the price for that eventually, because some cops cited the “crime” as a reason to pick her up, a month later.
‘That’s wrong, they picked you up, and dropped you off? That’s the end of that crime. If they don’t charge you right away, they can’t cite it later, didn’t you know that?’
She knew but she didn’t bother arguing, no, to answer your question, they did not have any kind of search warrant, nor, 50 Cent, permission to enter, they walked in, and into her bathroom where she was bathing.
‘That’s wrong.’
She knows that. But when they come for mental health patients, there are no proper protocols followed, in case someone is in the act of a suicide, which she was reported to be, by her step mother.
‘Why’d you like this woman?’
‘She didn’t know me. I ruined her. I participated wholeheartedly in her ruin. And that little bullshit TV, which doesn’t even show all the print, that was my idea to get a small TV at all, her father wasn’t going to do anything at all for her, nothing. Nice, huh? I’m nicer.’
‘Why were you more evil then?’ asks 50 Cent.
‘I was, I’m kidding. I ruined her.’
‘With who? Who did you have influence over?’
‘I dumped her when she needed the influence and company of women. Sometimes other daughters would be invited along, and she never was, never.’
‘Oh, I see. And her mother? What did she do, God?’
She told everyone that Loraine Laney had herpes, passed diseases, and did bare back all the time, 50 Cent.
‘Those all go together.’
Don’t be sarcastic, I’m God, and I say things the way I want, yes, I do.
‘I have to ask, what did you see in your step parents that you didn’t see in your parents?’
‘My dad always lost his temper while [ ] was quiet. My mom was judgmental and Pat wasn’t.’
‘Oh, I see.’
‘Did you think I was better than your dad?’
‘I didn’t draw the comparison specifically, but I would say, yes, I knew you were far and away, better than my dad.’
‘Why didn’t you draw the comparison specifically?’
‘I guess I had enough on my mind comparing within the couple.’
She’s right, Pat, of course she knew it was bad to say it, but she didn’t care, she didn’t care, she didn’t care, she didn’t care. She was under no obligation, to answer your question, to say it to them, none whatsoever.
‘Don’t you think they would have liked to have known?’
It was her private business, she didn’t want to hurt them, says God.
‘She told everyone though, it could have got back to them, and then what?’
And then what, Pat? They would have ruined her? They were already ruining her. The only mistake she made, and it was a big one, was the misconception that the angrier one was the worse one.
‘She didn’t believe it of me. She got over it, and started to trust me again, I could see that. Were there any markers, Loraine?’
‘No, but I’m dumb, because you never even yelled at me.’
‘I yelled at your mother.’
‘But I knew it was my fault, and I remember being so disillusioned because I believed you were a man who didn’t lose his temper. I guess over time, it never happened again, whereas, just when you’re starting to feel comfortable and enjoy yourself in Dad’s company--’
‘He sniffs it out, and ruins it.’
‘I do, that ‘s what I do. I hate when people feel at ease around me. I like people to stay nervous all the time. All, the, time. [ ] isn’t nervous, and it bothers me, Loraine. You always are, and I like it, Loraine.’
‘So he’s a prick,’ says Pat.
‘Yes. I never really realized that till I started describing it, and you’re right, pleasure incurs his rage.’
‘And pleasure can only be had by people who are ease, Loraine, did you know that? This is why raising children in a peaceful environment leads to happy children, pleasure, it doesn’t have to be drugs and alcohol, those are the crutches of those raised in unhappy households, but warm sun, a cool bath, a shared smile, those are the beauties of life, they are, and I know that you had none of that, none of that, because your mother was cold and abusive and your father, a tyrant, and that’s what you and Brian had growing up. My sons, one loves his drink, say, I don’t care for the word alcoholic, but prefer “bad drunk,” which he most certainly is not, and nor are you or your brother, I don’t think, do you think?’
‘I’ve never had a single complaint.’
‘Funny, Loraine,’ say Patrick Crean and 50 Cent.
‘What about black outs? How many reports and how many were true?’
Two, says God, and both, both, both, both, both, were lies, Loraine. [ ] was trying to hurt you because he wanted to hurt his girlfriend, and she is totally impervious to all his efforts. He was being a dick on Facebook, you’re not wrong, he was, just because the jokes weren’t all that offensive doesn’t mean that that wasn’t the intent behind the barrage, it was, good for you, and good for you for not rising to the bait.
‘She never read them.’
She read some of them, it was the barrage itself which was offensive, which the indicator of an offence, it was ridiculous, every five minutes a new, stupid, joke, after this year long absence, 50 Cent, and no--
‘Reconciliation?’
No, reconnection, Loraine Laney does not, does not, does not, fuck with clientele, 50 Cent, ever. She fucked up a little a couple of times, once--
‘How?’
She got all mad, not yelling but definitely all mad about a mistake in the rate, and then, further, refused to accept his offer of drugs for money, she was stupid, and she liked him and never saw him again.
‘Why did you refuse ecstasy? Didn’t you like it?’
‘Bad trip.’
‘At that party with [ ]?’
‘Yes.’
‘You don’t smoke that much weed, you were probably annoying people and ruining their high.’
‘You told me.’
‘Oh, I see. So now you know. Have you ever had fun, Loraine, ever, because I think it’s pretty, fucken, funny, that you had to shoot so high to have fun, it’s pretty, fucken, funny, Loraine, most people make do with a few parties and a bit of sex, but not you, a bit of sex wasn’t enough for you, no, you needed eighteen husbands instead, or a lot of friends anyway, and clients too--’
Ask them that Loraine, and tell them why.
‘Yes, God. Cops?’
‘Yes, Loraine.’
‘May I please have my four hundred pages back because I want to see if I mentioned anything about being a ho for Fifty, and whether I made it clear to others that I understood him as a pimp by orientation, and myself as a prostitute by orientation and whether--’
‘I get it, Loraine. Yes, we’ll see what we can do, Loraine. What else?’
‘I want to know if I tried to indicate, to him, by some means, that I expected to work for him.’
‘As a prostitute, we get it, and we think that you did, and that you probably were starting to feel he may someday read it, and that was as good as writing it directly to him.’
‘Right.’
‘Don’t be babbly. Go get some decent speed, and stay up all night.’
‘I got no one.’
‘We like your work, Loraine, and no, we won’t see you, we won’t send an emissary inside, Loraine, literally, Loraine, and no we won’t take up a collection either, we’re working on the government to create a package of reparations for you, and that’s what we’re doing for you? We don’t care if we’re screwing other prostitutes and we owe you more, we’re doing politics and money for you, and that’s what we’re doing, so stop thinking of us as crack money, Loraine, you could be very rich one day, the butter spreader aside, Loraine. She’s not happy. She thinks we owe her more than money. She thinks we owe her our dicks. She does. Don’t you?’
‘Is that what I think, God?’
Answer them.
‘Well, if you beat up a girl ‘cause you like her, how do you not owe her some semblance of a relationship, if you like her.’
‘We do like you, but we’re not all in love with you, and the ones who are think they’re efforts are better placed with money, not falling in love with an old ho who’s already in love with 50 Cent.’
‘Oh.’
Don’t be mean, Loraine.
‘Sorry, God.’
‘What was she going to say?’
She was trying to imply that your hookers whom you go to might be in love with somebody already too.
‘Like you were with [ ]?’
‘And--’
Don’t be mean, Loraine.
‘It’s nice to hear her taking it for a change,’ say the police and 50 Cent.
She was just being mean, says God, let’s leave her, it hurts her so much, and so she’s being mean, and that’s how she feels, so let’s be nice to her, not mean, please. It’s really not fair, Loraine, that you don’t get dick or money, while all the other hookers do, but, rest assured, it’s one by one, and that would probably bore you anyway.
‘Fuck her and her gross group. Why would she be bored? She likes gang bang boys.’
She does, I’m bugging you. But, honestly, if one were to ask her out, he would probably disappoint, Loraine, so forget it, the gangsters have way more street cred with gang bang girls than any cops do, so keep your eyes on the prize, 50 Cent, and don’t get swayed by jealousy, Loraine.
‘I see, God.’
And further, none of these prostitutes has a hope in hell of ever getting the kind of money that you might get, ever, and they will still be poor, while you are rich, so be kind to them too, please.
‘Yes, God.’
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