#diz says words
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loving the implication that ed got dressed IN the water just for the slay of walking out of it in his leathers. A+
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am only tangentially aware of the sexyman poll thing, but seeing ppl on my dash, whom i've never seen talk about wtnv, suddenly going to bat for cecil so hard gives me actual real emotions? and i can't even be cringe about it. when i found wtnv i was an unmedicated undergraduate student living month to month in an apartment in a shit neighborhood, and that podcast deadass kept me from a stint in a psych ward, dude. i am years behind on the episodes, but it like, legit rewired my brain and taught me how to cope with my existential despair by making it something beautiful and funny instead of something to fear. i'm not a merch person generally, but i am literally at this moment, without even realizing it, wearing a wtnv shirt and pants (the ones with creepy on the butt, obviously. i have the booty shorts too. both are quite literally the most comfortable pants i own, jsyk). i have a fucking wtnv tattoo (that joseph fink liked on twitter 84 years ago 💅) bc it's a quote that helps me when i am Dwelling. i listened to wtnv when i was studying creative writing in school and trying to figure out my own voice, and now i am on the brink of making a substantial living off of my books, and wtnv is definitely part of why. i have episode #13 "a story about you" memorized, bc it was (and occasionally still is) my go-to when i am not able to sleep bc of my brain. it calms me down. i've watched them live in three different cities (two different countries), bc i wanted to see them, and also bc i wanted to support the cast and crew. i'm not staying up until midnight on episode drop days anymore. idk what's going on with the plot. but i will always, always, always love that stupid podcast, and owe it more than i can repay
idk, i just like seeing it on my dash again. feels good. feels organic
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i hav a new vocal stim of just randomly going Cheeseburger Antiques n i cant stop it
it originated cuz therez an also semi-ababdined antique shop we pass sometimez that i call Beef Jerky Antiques that i chant everytime we pass it, n just going Cheeseburger waz alr a vocal stim.. so ig they combined n created thiz
Anywayz yea i cant stop jus randomly going Cheeseburger Antiques when im with people or typing something out lol
#other old vocal stimz include the word pizza and the word petunia iirc#Also everytime i play Roblox i want to type Jerma Brain On Smart Boosters in the chat#tbh a lot of my vocal stimz r from saying random food itemz#also i tend to stim when texting thru sending gifz which tend to be the same one for a while#Once it was the Jerma Sparkle On! Itz Wednesday! Dont forget to be yourself!#I think recently it waz also Family Guy gifz#Why doez my brain work liek diz#Also the screensaver on the tv keepz talking about crypto fsr
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Should Aqua have been Thanos'd?
No. She should have been recognized as a flawed character and then been redeemed, preferably through the game literally made for her. It's annoying that we got absolutely no depth to her character after an entire game was devoted to her story.
#nonny#response#dude imagine if she'd had a character arc that passed through every world though#city of dreams: she remembers the godmother's words that darkness couldn't be defeated w/ light#and she wonders what could defeat it that could help her escape the RoD#Snow White's World: she faces her past self and hears what she said abt Terra & Ven again#and realizes she sounded crueler than she intended & she begins to doubt herself#Enchanted Dominion: she falls further into despair and remembers how her friends needed her#and she unwittingly pushed them away and made all three of them alone#and wonders if they'd be better off without her. only for their keyblades to protect her#and she contacts them and sees Ven still sleeping & Terra still fighting off Xehanort#and she sees Terra try to protect her and Ven and realizes she's still loved#and even more sees how Terra's love for her & Ven has kept them safe from Xehanort all this time#and she realizes the answer to what defeats darkness is love & manages to dispel Xehanort#and with renewed confidence in herself and her bonds she sets out to escape again#this time arriving at the End of the Road#and if ends with her meeting DiZ and him saying no one could go further#and she looks at the horizon and says 'there's always a way back tot he light'#and it ends with her holding out her keyblade (which she gets back dammit)#and pointing it forward & a blue light shines out AND GREEN & ORANGE ONES COME TO MEET IT#AND TOGETHER IT OPENS A DOORWAY TO DESTINY ISLANDS OR SOMETHING#WOW AN IMMEDIATELY BETTER STORYLINE HOW ABOUT THAT#CAME UP WITH IT JUST THIS SECOND#kingdom hearts#aqua critical
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once the thrill expires | jjk
title credit: cardigan - taylor swift
pairing: college!jungkook x female reader
synopsis:
your housemate-turned-fwb takes another girl home after a night out
warnings: angsty, smutty turmoil. it's not that bad, but it definitely isn't a happy lil number. fingering, oral sex (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), vaginal sex, doggy, protected (!!) sex, lil spanks, jaykay sorta makes out with her ear???, jaykay is a fawk boy who needs to learn self-control, oc is holding out for something that'll never happen, multiple partners in one night (jk), jk calls the reader diz (dizzy)
wordcount: 5.8K
note from holly: virgo boy trauma for you in the form of a jk one shot lmao. it's rare you get virgo boy shit laid this bare but he he i love oversharing on the internet! there's an old paragraph from yet another virgo boy fic hidden in here, too so if you think it looks familiar, that'll be why!!
minors dni // cross posted to wattpad
The knock on your en-suite bathroom door comes as a surprise.
The subsequent twist of the lock mechanism from a coin wedged in the bolt on the other side does not.
There’s only one person it would be.
And so you don’t yell. Don’t tell him to go away, even if you do hug your legs into your chest a little tighter.
Sitting on the floor of your shower, dignity is preserved - but with skin as red as the flags that Jungkook freely hands you, and mascara staining your cheeks from the onslaught of piping hot water showering down on you, how dignified can you really be?
No words are spoken as the steam billows from the room, Jungkook not caring to shut the door behind himself. He takes a perch on the closed lid of the toilet, elbows to his knees, tattooed hands clasped beneath his chin. Refuses to look anywhere other than you.
There’s perplexion to his taut jaw - a frown embedded in his brows - but more than anything, there’s an overwhelming sense of confusion in his soft eyes. You’re unaware of the way he’s mirroring your expression back at you; how defeated you look, wet hair sticking to the side of your face, an emptiness in your gaze that is pale in comparison to the void in your chest.
With nothing but the pitter-patter of your shower to fill the space, you’re thankful that he can’t hear the way your heart is beating, or how you’re sniffing back the tears you were freely crying before he arrived.
“Jem messaged me,” he eventually says, quiet beneath the sound of the water. Leaning back, he wipes a palm over his face, then pushes it back into his dishevelled hair. Lets his hand fall between his legs, then shrugs as he looks at you as if to say, 'Don’t look at me like that' or 'It’s not my fault.'
And realistically, you know that it isn’t. Whatever he’s done is within the parameters of what was agreed upon. The way you feel - like Jungkook has stolen the moon and stopped the tides from turning - is not.
It’s not like either of you had ever expected to let things get this far, and definitely not for this long.
What had started as quiet kisses in the corners of clubs when your friends weren’t looking, had catapulted into drunken hook-ups after those aforementioned nights out.
He’d call you Dizzy, ‘cause he was convinced you looked at him like you’d been spinning in circles, all awe-struck and smiley. Pretty. Like a giggle was on the tip of your tongue at all times.
Was easy, back then. Convenient. He was newly single. Not looking for anything.
You’d been quietly harbouring an illicit crush on him from the day you moved into your shared university accommodation. Had been waiting for the stars to align - and once they had, you were certain that soulmates had to exist.
It’s the only way you can explain the small earthquake that happened half the world away at the very time you first met, the tectonic plates shifting to make sure you were perfectly presented to one another.
You didn’t feel the tremors - would have been impossible - but your heart certainly felt something. Adrenaline? Limerence? You’re not sure.
Whatever it was only became more and more prevalent with every tipsy hold of his hand on the way to clubs, or moments stolen in secrecy in the house you now share with six of your friends.
Now in your final year of university, if you spent as much time studying, as you do fretting over Jungkook - what he’s up to, who he’s with - maybe you’d get a first-class degree.
You’re on track for a 2:1.
He’s on track for a first, though.
You choose to believe it’s because he’s naturally more academically inclined (as if you didn’t write an entire paper for him last semester), and not because he spends significantly less time thinking about you.
There’s no need for endless thoughts, though.
The arrangement is simple: You’re friends.
Best friends. Spend all your time together. Are plus ones to events. Fill the void that a partner should fill; at the winter balls, cinema screenings you don't want to see alone, and in the hushed privacy of midnight intimacy. He gets you off when you need it, and you him.
Kisses are never shared between lips - apart from that one summer when he accidentally said he was in love with you, then took it back a week later under the guise of not wanting to ‘ruin’ the friendship.
You don’t speak about that summer.
Hook-ups are in your room, always, ‘cause you’ve only got Jem in the room next door. Jungkook’s room is up on the middle floor, surrounded by all the boys. They’d realise what’s going on far too quickly.
It’s simple - yet excruciatingly complicated when there’s a lack of commitment, and Jungkook looks at you in the way that he does.
His lips are a little deeper than their usual pink this evening, but you put it down to alcohol.
Denial is a wonderful thing, and delusion even greater.
Still, he leans forward to push the shower door open. Leans further still, then knocks the tap off. Lets the water trickle down the drain, the hum of the pipes murmuring like your unspoken grievances.
Rivulets of water chase down your skin. Jungkook watches one race from your knee to your ankle, running straight over the bruises from messy nights out and the small cut at the bottom of your calf from the fountain you’d both traipsed through when you were a little too merry a few nights prior.
He’d given you a piggyback the entire way home, blood staining the white of his shirt; the very essence of you embedded now in the fabric of him.
He’d patched you up after you got home. Showered with you, right here, then carried you the measly five or six steps to your bed. Had told you that you’d definitely get sepsis and die. Kissed it better, then decided he didn’t know any better, and trailed his lips up your leg. Took pity on your impending death and gave you a little, lovely death just to soften the blow.
Funny, how you think sepsis would be preferable over whatever the fuck it is that you’re feeling now.
“Jem messaged me,” he repeats. Presses his lips together, the ring in the corner of his mouth glistening under the white lights of the bathroom. “Said I should check on you. Been in the shower for an hour, apparently.”
Well, you think to yourself, bitterness wrapping around your words like poison ivy. You’ve checked. You can go now.
The words don’t manifest in your throat. Nothing does. Not even the echo of a sob you’ve been holding in since he first stepped foot within your sanctuary.
Instead you’re silent as you get to your feet, not caring for your nakedness. It’s nothing Jungkook hasn’t seen before. Probably knows your body better than his own at this point. Can look at the faded bruise on your chest and know that it was left there by his lips last week. Can pick out which ones of your dainty linework tattoos were there before he met you, and which ones have been acquired since.
It’s a quiet intimacy, the way Jungkook looks at you. There’s no towel in the bathroom - an oversight by your tipsy brain when deciding you needed to wash yourself clean of the man in front of you after arriving home from the club - and Jungkook doesn’t care to offer you one.
Insanity is the product of looking at your body, he thinks. Can’t remember a time he’s ever seen you like this and hasn’t wanted to be inside you. He’s a simple man in pursuit of simple pleasures, and the way you fit him like a glove is the simplest pleasure of them all.
“Hm?” He questions your lack of a response.
His deep black eyes are just like the depths of the ocean floor, and it feels like he’s dragging you right down every single time he looks at you like this. Softly. Tenderly. Sweetly. As if he actually gives a shit.
There’s no room for two in this bathroom. It’s not a space designed to be shared, no matter how many times you’ve both squeezed into the shower under far different circumstances - though now you come to think of it, perhaps they weren’t so dissimilar.
It was always Jungkook’s pursuit of pleasure that put you in that position, just like it put you there tonight.
“Hey,” he says quietly, as you turn to leave, his grip on your waist pulling you between his legs. You don’t look at him. Just keep your head turned to face out of the room - but you make no attempt to leave. Especially when his nose brushes up against the bottom of your ribs right between your breasts, and he husks, “Why are you being like this?”
The softness of his lips as he presses them against your sternum, long lashes splayed across the top of his cheeks, has you spiralling. Kind of feels like he’s twisting a corkscrew through your heart. You know he’ll rip it right out - but maybe you’ll let him, if it means he’ll kiss the wound better.
“Hmm?” He hums. One of your hands rests on his shoulder, the other in his hair, and that’s how Jungkook knows he’s rectified the damage done for a short while. It’s like putting washi tape over holes punched in the walls - useless, and bound to fall off eventually, but ever so pretty in the meantime. Another washi-tape kiss is pressed to your skin, a little higher this time. “We had a good night, didn’t we?”
The tenderness of his voice rewrites the events of the evening. A good night.
Not one with tears, and jealousy, and arguments that people who claim to be just friends have no business having. A night shared together, perhaps, with no one else to intrude.
Didn’t we?
You so prefer this false chain of events - the one where he left the bar with you, and held your hand in the cab ride back just like he’d done in the cab ride there.
“Is she still here?”
He’s surprised that you’re mentioning it. Half-expected you to act like it never happened. Like she never happened. Is what you usually do, whenever he goes home with someone that isn’t you.
Still, he just continues to gently stroke your sides. Doesn’t present you with any sort of weakness.
“No.”
“Did you fuck her?”
There’s a little venom to your tone; the poison ivy around your thoughts sprouting now from your throat.
Her. Some inconsequential girl that neither of you will likely ever see again. Looked nothing like you, but a hell of a lot like his ex.
“No, Diz,” he softens the sternness of his tone with a name only he calls you. “I didn’t fuck her.”
You’ve no idea if this is a lie or not.
It’ll be accepted as truth for an hour. Maybe two. Just enough time for you to convince yourself that you’re the one he wants. That he couldn’t bear to fuck anyone else. That he sent her on her way after a kiss or awkward fumble, because he realised no one else could feel as good as you.
You’ll ignore the fact you know he’s here because Jem messaged him.
You’ll ignore the fact he thinks you’ve been in the shower for over an hour, and has no actual knowledge of the events of it all.
You’ll ignore the scratch mark on his back, and in the morning you’ll believe it was you who left there even though your nails are bitten right down.
The lies you’ll tell yourself will be far more grand than the ones Jungkook ever tells you. Nobody can ever hurt you quite like you hurt yourself.
And so, against your better judgement, you let him follow you to your bed.
There's a clang as he tosses his rings down into the ceramic dish beside your bed. It's white, and speckled in tiny black dots, and matches the one Jungkook has in his own bedroom. Not really a surprise. He was the one who bought it for you. Before then, he used to just tuck his rings beneath your pillows - but he kept losing them, and he found it annoying having to rummage around for them whenever he was trying to make a silent exit so as to not wake you.
You tell yourself that small things like this are Jungkook's way of integrating himself into your life; creating permanence. In reality, it's just something that makes it easier for him to leave.
Leaving is the last thing on your mind right now, though, and it will be until he comes.
It used to be different. He used to stay. You convince yourself each and every time that he’ll do what he used to do before things got so confusing. That he’ll stay, and that things will be okay.
You let him kiss your skin, but he’ll never kiss your lips. Let him lay claim to your body, even though you know he’ll never lay claim to your soul.
It’s nice to pretend.
Nice, when he lays you down and rids himself of his shirt. Nice, when he presses your legs apart, and looks at you like you’re the first woman he’s ever laid eyes upon. Nice, when he says shit like, “Such a nice cunt,” and “Let me make you feel good.”
So nice, when he strokes up and down your inner thigh, eyes trained on your pussy.
So, so nice when he slowly drips a little spit between his pursed lips and watches as it trails down your folds.
So fucking nice, when he spreads you with his index and middle finger, groaning at the sight of you.
See, Jungkook can be nice. Can be honest. Can tell you how much he wants you, and you can believe him without having to do mental gymnastics over it all.
As he sinks his middle finger into you - “Shit. So wet for me, aren’t you?” - Jungkook is on his best behaviour. He’ll make you feel so good that you’ll forget he ever made you feel bad, cause he needs this. Needs you.
Not in the life-debilitating, earth-shattering, universe-bending way that you need him, but in a way that isn’t too dissimilar.
You’re his best friend. He loves you in his own, curious way. Would lay his life on the line for you. Just can’t seem to keep his dick in his pants for no other reason than selfish gluttony.
It’s his fatal flaw, but he just thinks everyone has them. That most people are like this.
Of the seven deadly sins, Jungkook wields them all. Too proud to admit his wrongdoings. Greedy in his need to have everything life can offer, and how he refuses to limit himself to just you. His lust and gluttony go hand in hand - yet whenever any one else with similar predispositions look in your direction, he turns green with envy. Green, until he’s red, wrath taking hold.
But he’s lazy, too. Far too settled in how easy it is to have his way with you. Why would he try harder when you never make him?
That’s your cardinal sin: desperation.
It reeks. Spiced vanilla and black cherry. Tarnishes your skin, until Jungkook licks it from you.
And so as his lips press down your legs, wet and wanting, you don’t object. In fact, you don’t really do anything. You just allow it to happen.
Because you are desperate - for him, his approval, his desire. His heart.
You’ll never get it, mind you, for his heart is hollow.
Saw every example of what he considered to be true love crackle and crumble until it fell apart. Parents divorced. High-school sweetheart cheated. Love, as you know it, doesn’t exist in Jungkook’s understanding of life.
You never stood a chance. Not really.
The only times his heart is full is when he steals enough adoration from yours, and cosplays it as his own. Shines it back at you, and tricks you into thinking that maybe he did mean it when he mumbled false declarations into your lips.
But that was three summers ago, now, and Jungkook is a creature of habit. Too stuck in his ways to ever change. Comfortable in this chaos with you.
‘Cause while the other girls are fleeting, and fun, and always very nice, they’re never comfortable. Not like you are.
“I liked your dress tonight,” he whispers, as he pushes a second finger into you. Pumps them gently, palm skywards, coaxing soft little moans from your lips. Curls them just right, just like he always does.
The affection of such a compliment rids you of the haunting way he’d looked at you earlier that evening.
Up, down. No smile. Turned away to change the song coming through the aux at pre-drinks. Didn’t look at you again until he was passing out shots for everyone to take. Just nodded towards your necklace - the one his hobbyist silversmith mother made you for Christmas - and asked, “You like it?”
The pendant is small. Embossed with the letters DJ - the name his mother collectively calls you whenever you spend the summer together at his place. The hammered edge of the pendant matches the ring that wraps around your thumb. Another one of her creations, gifted to you by him for your birthday.
“Of course I do,” you’d said. Seemed silly for him to ask. You wear it most days.
“Good,” he’d nodded, then took his shot and pretended as if he wasn't all too aware that your dress would be attracting good-for-nothing men all night.
See, Jungkook knows you like the necklace. Had just been reminding you of it, and the fact it’s his initial on there with the initial only he calls you. Well, him and his mother. Goes with the territory.
She’s seen you through your formative years. Only ever sees the good parts, because Jungkook orchestrates it that way.
She doesn’t see the moments like these, when he’s crushed your self esteem and tries to fix it in the most idiotic of ways.
The necklace pools around the base of your throat as your head tips back into the pillows, his thumb coming to toy with your clit, gently pressing down.
“Shush, Diz,” he smiles, so pleased to see your body responding in the way that it always does. “You’ll get us in trouble.”
God forbid the people you live with - who’ve all heard the arguments after his illicit encounters with randomers, and seen his face of thunder whenever you’re getting ready for first dates - ever figure out you’re fucking. Not like it’s obvious in the slightest. Not why Jem texted Jungkook, instead of checking on you herself.
Biting onto your wrist, you try and stifle the impact of his touch - ‘cause if they do hear, it will be your fault. You’ll be the reason everyone knows your dirty little secrets. You’ll be the one who ruins it all. Not him. Just you.
He doesn’t mean to condition you in such a way. Doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.
Nor do you - but your self esteem is shot to shit. You’re good enough to fuck, but not good enough to love, even if Jungkook insists that there’s no one he adores more. It always comes with an add-on of ‘you’re my best friend’, or ‘you wouldn’t wanna date me anyways’.
Maybe he’s right.
But maybe it would have been nice to try.
Shame.
The pace of Jungkook’s fingers pumping into you begins to slow. Leaking around the base of his knuckles, you’re just as wet as you always are with him. Even when the emotional labour of letting him have his way with you feels like a ten tonne weight on your chest, crushing down on your ribs and spoiling you forevermore, your body still wants him. Only him. Always him.
Withdrawing his fingers, Jungkook taps the outer side of your thigh. “On your front for me, Diz. Face down, ass up.”
With anyone else, Jungkook is far more often on the receiving end. It’s a shame, ‘cause his talents go to waste, it’s just what he’s found to be typical of random hook-ups.
He loves pussy. Loves eating it. Loves that you love it, too.
Slow as he spreads your ass with his hands, Jungkook really doesn’t fuck around with wasting time. He dives in without hesitation, burying his tongue between your folds. Cares not for accuracy, nor carefulness. Just wants his tongue all over you.
Your body lurches forward, hands clutching onto the duvet beneath you. He’s always been like this. Hungry. Just as desperate as you so often feel, but better at hiding it than you are.
His tongue laps against you. Sinks into your soaked hole as deep as he can get it. Uses one of his hands to reach around and toy with your clit while he continues to explore somewhere he knows like the back of his hand.
Pulling back a little, Jungkook’s breathing is heavy. You can hear it. Groan, as he grips your ass again. Spanks it softly, then get back to his previous position. Licks a stripe from your clit up to your leaking cunt, then continues. Flicks up against the tight muscle you rarely let him fuck around with.
But you want him to want you. Want him to have you in whichever capacity he so desires.
You reach back. Tangle a hand in his hair, and encourage him to massage your tight hole with his tongue, like you know he loves to do.
It’s kinda cute, in a way. He likes doing it, ‘cause he loves the way it feels whenever your tongue toys with his ass. Assumes other people must love it too. Just wants you to feel good. Wants to right his earlier wrongs.
He continues to trace up and down both your holes, stimulating your entire body in the process. Rubs your clit with his fingers, till you're writhing against the sheets, body pressed flat to the cotton as Jungkook begins to fuck his fingers into your again.
“You gonna cum for me?” He husks, a smile on his wet lips as he watches the tell-tale sign of an orgasm rush over you. Soon, you’ll be looking at him with dizzy eyes once more, and your namesake will make Jungkook feel things he pretends he can’t feel. “That’s it, Diz. All over my fingers. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”
There’s a relief that comes with your orgasm for Jungkook. Hope that you’ll stop being mardy with him. He doesn’t like it when you don’t like him. These days, he keeps making choices that make it hard for you to like him.
But you always like him - like him so much - in the comedown of a climax.
He doesn’t give you much time to recover. Wants to coax a second orgasm from you while he still can. Pulls you back into position - face down, ass up - and pushes down his sweats. Cock hard, there’s a small damp patch in his boxers from the precum he’s leaked for you. Lines himself up.
“Let me fuck you,” he begs before he pushes into you.
“Uh-uh,” you full forward a little, preventing him from doing what he so desperately wants to do. Turning to look over your shoulder, you shake your head. “Condom.”
He furrows his brows. Has the audacity to look fucking offended, as if he didn’t bring another girl back to the house you share.
You’re stupid, and you’re desperate, and you make all the wrong choices, but you aren’t naive. Not really. Your delusions and denial are always elevated away from reality, of which you like to think you have a firm grip on.
And so you simply say, “Don’t believe you didn’t fuck her.”
He doesn’t deny it. Shakes his head, not that you can see it. Just reaches to the shelf above your bed, and gets one from the pot you keep them tucked away in. Rarely ever use them. It’s a novelty, more than not, when you use them. Something to make him last a little longer.
It’s different today.
Today, it’s because you don’t know if his cock is fucking clean or not.
It should crush you, but it doesn’t.
Just a fact of life. Jungkook fucked someone else less than three hours ago. Came, probably. For someone else. Over someone else. Inside someone else.
But that desperation of yours is back once more. You want to be the reason why Jungkook loses his mind in temporary bliss. To be better. To be his last memory of the evening.
And so as Jungkook rolls the condom down his thick shaft, you position yourself perfectly for him. Whimper as the tip of his cock kisses your entrance. Whine, as he pushes inside you.
“That’s it,” he husks, gripping your ass cheeks to spread them nice and wide. Looking down to where your bodies meet, Jungkook is reminded of why he enjoys you so much. No one takes him so well. No one. He knows this. Doesn’t know why the fuck he ever feels the need to seek out anyone else. They’re never as good as this. “Fuck. That’s it, baby.”
Your hips roll back, ass bouncing in that hypnotic way he always swears will ruin him. His grip loosens to let you do the hard work, one of his hands stroking up your spine until it’s resting around the base of your throat.
Taking back a little control, he keeps your head pushed into the pillows. Grunts. “Take this cock so fuckin’ well, don’t you?”
The mumble you moan into the sheets isn’t enough for him. He always does this. Asserts control and then realises he actually kinda fuckin’ hates it. Fingers still wrapped around the base of your neck, Jungkook pulls you up.
Chest pressed to your back, Jungkook wastes no time locking you in place with an arm around the front of your waist. His cock continues to pump upwards into you, the movements a little subdued but by no means lacking.
The ridge of his thick head rubs up against your sweet spot. Gets you so fucking needy. Has your hand dipping to your clit to match the pressure.
And when you do? Oh, it’s heaven. You can’t help but whine - so Jungkook uses the hand that isn't on your waist to cover your mouth.
“You only get to cum if you’re quiet,” he tells you. “Be quiet for me, baby.”
But his hips are erratic. The sounds are lewd; skin on skin. It’s wet. Disgusting. Needy. Him, just as much as you. Sweat blossoms on his skin, keeping you both in this clammy haze of hedonism.
Catching his lips on your ear, Jungkook doesn’t care if he isn’t supposed to let kisses linger so close to your lips. Tongue wet, he intrudes. Licks the shell of your ear. Grazes his teeth on your lobe. Whispers, “You looked so pretty tonight,” then drags his tongue across your ear.
Cares not for precision nor accuracy, just the fact that this is an area of the body he doesn’t often explore, and that maybe he should do it more often, given how tightly your pussy is clamping around him.
There’s something about it - the obstruction of one of your senses likely to blame, sound distorted whenever his tongue licks against it - that makes you whine.
You can’t even really do that now. Are too muffled beneath his hand - until he pushes the two fingers that had been inside your pussy earlier into your mouth.
The taste is just the same as it always is whenever he does shit like this. Loves having you taste yourself. Experiencing what he experiences. Wants you to know exactly why he’s incapable of letting you go.
“Slutty little mouth,” he smirks against your ear. “Gonna finish in it.”
“Mhhm?” you mumble against the fingers you’re keeping wet and warm for him.
“Mhmm,” he replies. Presses a kiss to your temple, ‘cause he isn’t really thinking straight. Groans when your cunt clenches from the touch. “God, you want it, don’t you? Want it so bad. Wanna swallow my cum.”
Of course you do. You’ll take what he’ll give you.
Your mumble around his fingers isn’t enough. He wants to hear you say it. Frees your mouth of himself. Grips your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Turns you to face further over your shoulder.
He’s just gonna make you say it. Just make you say something lewd to get him a little closer. Just… Just gonna… Just...- Oh, fuck it. Your lips are just there, and they’re wet, and they’re pouty and - God, forgive me - perfect for him.
His eyes flitter between your eyes and your lips. Is aware you’re doing the same.
“Kook,” you whisper, as if you’re about to reprimand him.
“Please,” he begs. Thinks he needs this just as much as you do. Maybe even more so.
And so somewhere between the overwhelming acknowledgement that this is a catastrophic chain of events, and the promise of a happy ending (of which you know damn well will never reach fruition), you let him sink his lips into yours.
You’re pretty in war, and even prettier in defeat.
Jungkook thinks you’re prettiest when you’re all his.
You think that to be his is to accept an eternal loss.
The breath of his nose is heavy against your cheek as his lips press into yours, brows furrowed. The need for you to be lewd is abandoned, ‘cause Jungkook doesn’t even think he’ll last long enough for it. Thinks that nothing gets him closer than the flavour of your lips.
Hips still jerking up, the sound of his skin hitting your ass echoing around the room, Jungkook fucks himself into you until he can do it no longer. Pulls away. Rips off his condom. Tosses it to the floor. Gets you face down again. Wanks himself to the point of coming undone, hot spurts of cum dripping onto your ass and spilling down to the valley of your spine.
He’s the one moaning now, your body defiled by a boy who you wish would paint you in pretty compliments instead. Still, this is a compliment. Kind of. You’re hot enough to make him cum. That’s nice, you suppose.
“Shit,” he chokes out, breathing all out of sync, heartbeat far too rapid. A light spank is tapped against your ass, then softly stroked. He soothes. Aloe on sunburn. Milk with hot sauce. Pretty kisses in the comedown of a rough fuck.
You won’t get those. Wasn’t a particularly rough fuck, either - and yet it hurts so much when he gets up to leave.
It’s awkward. He doesn’t really say bye. Doesn’t acknowledge the fact he stoked a fire inside you that burned you from the inside out. Ignores the ashes that are scattered around your vessel, as if your soul has been ejected from its home.
He’s warm, when you look at him. That little part of your heart has been stolen once more. He’s just feeding it back to you.
“Sorry,” he says, a hand on your doorknob. “I shouldn’t- I mean, we shouldn’t-”
“It’s fine,” you offer.
That’s the thing about Jungkook. He’ll give you the world, then realise it was never his to give. Always has to ask for it back. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s fucked you, then acted as if was foolish - only to repeat the same mistakes the next evening.
It’s what he’s always done, and is what he’ll always do.
You’ll never learn.
The shirt you chuck on to head downstairs the next morning is his.
Far too big for you, it finishes around your thighs. Television blaring in the room beneath you, it’s obvious your housemates are awake, and even as you’re trudging down the stairs, you’re not quite sure you’re alive.
The headache of an overbearing hangover is threatening your life. You’re certain of it. The fact your housemates have the television set to what must be the maximum volume? Only further sending you to an early grave.
And yet when you see Jungkook sitting by the breakfast bar, hair in all different directions, a bowl of cereal in front of him, and smiling in the direction of whomever else is in the room, you find yourself smiling, too.
“Morning,” you say pleasantly as you walk into the kitchen, ready to flop your forehead down on Jungkook’s shoulder like you so often do.
Ready, until you notice the look in his eyes when he turns to face you.
Ready, until you glance in the direction of his previous smile.
Ready, until you see the girl who looks a lot like his ex-girlfriend and absolutely nothing like you leaning on the other side of the counter. Mug from your trip to Amsterdam together in her hands, and the shirt you got him for his birthday covering her body, she smiles.
You’re drowning.
“Oh,” you say, not looking at him. Only her. “I didn’t realise we had company.”
“Is she still here?”
“No.”
She’s awkward as she nods. “Sorry, hey. I crashed here last night - hope you don’t mind? It’s just you know what it’s like getting an uber at that time-”
“Yeah, yeah,” you nod. Smile. Jungkook thinks you look pretty - but of course he does. You look defeated. “Totally.”
“Did you fuck her?
“No, Diz. I didn't fuck her.”
“Jungkook said you were feeling unwell last night?” She tries to make conversation. She needn’t. You feel far more unwell now than you ever did last night - and that’s before you notice the pretty purple bruise forming on her neck. “How are you feeling now?”
Her care is kind. Considerate. Wholly wasted on you because you’re gonna lie, and say that you’re fine, even though it feels as if your lungs have been filled with venom spat by a lover who is incapable of loving.
Still, you don’t look at Jungkook. Just make your excuses. Leave.
And even though he knows that he should, Jungkook doesn’t chase after you.
He lets you go, because he knows you’ll always come back. You always do.
But if you don't?
Well, he’ll go back to you, and you’ll let him. Again, you always do.
From the kitchen, Jungkook can hear your showering starting up. Appetite lost, he isn’t listening to the girl in front of him. Isn’t even really sure of her name.
All that he’s sure of is that the fall out of this is not gonna be pretty.
#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook ff#jk ff#jungkook masterlist#jungkook fic#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x oc#jeon jungkook smut#bts fanfic#byholly#angst#smut#jungkook x y/n#fuckboy!jungkook#college!jungkook#college au
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Type | Sanji x Reader
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader
Word Count: 1.7k
Genre: Angst with Happy Ending
Warning(s): Alcohol consumption, drunken confessions
Inspired by: Your Type by Carly Rae Jepsen
Summary: You know you're not Sanji's type. Yet you also can't bring yourself to get over him. Consoling yourself with alcohol doesn't go as planned...
A/n: I'm done with Sanji fics, I say. Then I proceed to write a Sanji fic because I'm so in love with this boy it's ridiculous. Apparently all it takes is one reminder of why I love him and I'm a puddle for him again. Probably why a lot of my fics have so many compliments for him. I always want him to know how amazing he is hahaha~
also available on ao3!
The big bonfire had plunged everyone in a golden and orange hue, the warmth in the atmosphere lingering from the aftermath of another island successfully saved (and destroyed) by the Straw Hat crew. In one corner, Sanji was flirting with some girls, who were looking at him shyly and hanging on with great interest.
Somehow, it didn't feel as good as always. The blonde chef found his mind instead conjuring up your sweet smile and a giggle. Flirting with you was different. Somehow, it was the only time he felt giddy now-a-days. It was weird, but Sanji wasn't an idiot to not understand what it meant.
He knew he was falling for you and yet, he was also aware that his heart had chosen an impossible target. You were the most kind, generous and sweet person he had ever come across– and there was no way you would ever look at him as a potential partner. Sanji knew that, his brain knew that, but his heart was adamant. It has chosen and it refused to let go.
Giving up to its whims again, the chef excused himself from the ladies, who looked disappointed and tried to make him stay but he gently refused by giving some excuse and a compliment. Feeling eyes on him, Sanji looked around to find you shooting him a glare. It startled him, especially when he noticed the glass of alcohol in your hand.
You hated the bitter taste of alcohol. You never drank it and always refused it so what could have made you drink today? Sanji couldn't understand but he found his feet making way towards you the moment you swayed where you sat. His hands found purchase upon your shoulders when he was close enough and he steadied you such that you were leaning against his stomach.
You inhaled deeply, almost like you were taking in Sanji's scent, and it made a shiver run down his back.
"Sanji…" Your voice was a mere whisper in the din of the party but somehow, it reached Sanji's ears. "Take me home."
Home meant your room in the Thousand Sunny, a place Sanji had never stepped foot in. He had, at times, escorted you to the door but never went in and you had never offered either– it seemed like he would intrude on your personal space if he ever asked.
"Of course," he said quietly, carefully helping you to stand up. You never drank, but now that you had, Sanji wasn't sure if you had drunk too much or if you were a lightweight because you nearly collapsed again, giggles bubbling up your lips.
"My legs feel like jelly," you slurred towards the end, putting all your weight on Sanji, who easily held you up as you tried to straighten up. "Jelly… Milk pudding… ah, your milk pudding the other night was so good, Sanji."
"I'm glad to hear that, sweetheart," he patiently let you struggle for a while before you gave up and looked at him with tears in your eyes. Your mood swings were extreme when you got drunk, apparently. "How about I carry you back, my love?"
"Would you?" You peered up at him through your wet eyelashes and Sanji wanted to kiss your tears away. Even while crying, you were somehow the most beautiful sight with your adorable red nose, the flush of alcohol making your ears and neck and cheeks warm, droplets sticking to your eyelashes.
Without a word, he picked you up like you weighed nothing in a princess carry, and you squeaked at the sudden dizziness. Your arms automatically came to circle around his neck and Sanji hoped that you wouldn't be able to hear his heart hammering at such a close distance. You were pressed against him, and he could feel you– it was too much for his heart and he really didn't want to let you know how much of a big fat crush he had on you, lest it embarrassed him in front of you.
To you, he always wanted to appear like a cool, suave and charming guy. And yet, when you were around, he always ended up fumbling or stuttering or messing things up. The effect you had on him drove him crazy.
"You're so cool," you murmured, your lips tickling his collarbone from where they were pressed. "Your hands are always cold, did you know that, Sanji?"
"Yes," the chef smiled to himself, watching you draw hearts with your finger on his shirt. You were pouting again. "Is everything alright, love?"
"Mm?" You looked up at him, eyes wide and glossy.
"You never drink," Sanji gestured his head back towards the party, which was now quite a distance away that the noise had dwindled down. In the silence of the night, the moment felt all too personal and intimate. "Did something happen?"
"I got tired," you whispered, pausing from drawing hearts. You looked away, warm tears running down your cheeks. "It's been a bit hard these days. Love is hard, Sanji."
Sanji's heart skipped a beat at the last sentence. You were in love?
"I know I shouldn't," you continued on, no longer looking at him but at the starry sky above you, "that my feelings will just ruin everything. I know I'm not his type, and I know he will never look at me the way I want him to. I know he will only ever see me as a friend at most but God, if I just didn't love him as much I do. I want to do so many things with him, for him, to him– I want to be by his side and love him."
"He is a very lucky man," Sanji's mouth felt dry as he spoke. The food he had eaten suddenly seemed to want to come out the way it had come in and Sanji was sure that the only reason he hadn't puked yet was because you were in his arms. You, who were in love with some other man. Probably someone from the crew. (Was it Zoro? Sanji never actually hated the guy, despite his claims, but he felt like he really might resent him a little if the mosshead was the one receiving your affections.)
"Is he?" Your voice wavered. "He won't ever look at me that way. It kills me when I see him with other girls because I know he will never see me beyond a comrade because that's just how it is. I'm not, I'm not the type of girl he would fall for."
"He must be blind then," Sanji said loudly. You had reached the Sunny and got onto the deck, but he simultaneously wanted this conversation to end and not end. Who was it you liked? Zoro didn't flirt. Was it Ussop? He sometimes fooled around. "To not notice you, to not, to not realise your value." To not realise that he was a lucky bastard who got your love when Sanji would do anything for it. Anything. "W- Who…"
Sanji swallowed the lump in his throat before trying again.
"Who is he?"
You didn't answer for a few seconds. He tried to gauge out your reaction and found that you looked angry. Your mood swings were really extreme.
"I hate you," you hit Sanji's chest without any real power in it. The words were like a slap to Sanji, who looked at you heart-broken. You were angry, but you were still crying. "I wish I could mean that. I wish I could look at you and not constantly feel so in love with you. I wish you were mean or horrible or a jerk so I could get over you but you're, you're kind. You're sweet. You treat me like I'm the most precious and important person to grace the earth. You comfort me and you hold me and you flirt but never force anything on me. You're a gentleman, you're caring and I see you. I see who you are and I fall in love. I'm sorry, Sanji, I love you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for ruining everything, for taking advantage of your kindness, but I can't make it stop. I can't–"
You sucked in a deep breath, scratching at Sanji to let him let you down. The chef did so, too shocked to say or do anything else.
"I can't look at you and not love you, Sanji," you whispered, eyes reflecting a broken and sad look. "I'm sorry I love you."
For a few seconds he didn't know what to say, brain trying to catch up with everything you had said. Him. You loved him. Not someone else, him.
You seemed to take his silence as your answer and turned around to leave but Sanji panicked and tugged at your hand, making you bump into his chest. His hands came around you in a circle, holding you with a desperation he didn't know he had in him.
"Don't be," he said breathlessly, feeling winded from the rush of his own feelings and thoughts. "Don't be sorry for making my dream come true, not when all I have wanted is for you to love me back. And don't be sorry for entrusting your heart to me. I swear, sweetheart, if you would let me, I'll take so good care of it. I'll never let you regret it. So please, give me your heart. Because I already gave you mine without either of us knowing."
You chuckled, the daze of having your love returned making everything feel unreal. You turned around and got on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss against his lips.
"Silly boy, it was always yours to begin with."
Sanji's heart was still hammering as he looked at you giving him a sweet smile and pulling him into a hug. You stayed like that for a few minutes, just the two of you under the stars on an empty ship, swaying lightly to inaudible music. A few moments passed before Sanji realised that your breath was evened out– you had fallen asleep in his arms.
That made him laugh, looking at your peaceful and smiling face burrowed in his chest, right next to his heart. Remembering what you had said before, Sanji carefully tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, and pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead.
"Then silly girl, you should know you were always my exact type, to begin with."
°•❀•°
Taglist:
@phantasmagoricalzenith | @secretlife028 | @100520s | @toertchen | @suga-tofu | @theluckyplaces | @luvfzw | @katiemrty | @writingmysanity | @akaashi-todorki
all likes, comments, reblogs are appreciated ♡
#one piece#one piece imagines#one piece fanfic#one piece fanfiction#vinsmoke sanji#vinsmoke sanji x reader#sanji x reader#one piece x reader#black leg sanji#op sanji#gender neutral reader#every sanji fic i write is just me trying to put my feelings for him into words
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Opinions of KH2 novels that happen that are funny/interesting
I saw a lot of sections recently
Riku Axel & Namine are a trio
Their interactions are nice
It's something I didn't know I needed
I love seeing them do stuff in the background while Sora does basic (game moments), instead of focusing what happens in the games during Disney worlds, it shows them
Axel being a grey character
He doesn't know himself if he's bad or good
But some of the others noticed it and gladly call him their friend.
Also when Goofy "dies" he helps him to see if he's alright and even gives him a potion
Instead of initially kidnapping Kairi, he does so with good interest in mind, thinking she's in danger because the organization is after her— Riku and Naminé were going to her but got caught up in a battle with Saïx.
Then Saïx fought Axel and won, obtaining Kairi.
Also Naminé helps heal Axel after he lost to Saïx.
I love his banner with Riku
At one point Mickey is like, I'm glad you're not alone Riku, Riku responds, He's my friend, but then Axel says, Nobodies don't have friends, it's not exactly word for word, but similar.
Axel comments to Riku
Riku eating ice cream and Axel is like is it good, You're like a little kid even though you look like a mean old man. Then Axel steals his ice cream and Riku like bruh really dude there is plenty of ice cream in there.
After Land of Dragons, Axel tells Riku, Seeing Sora made you that happy, and Riku is like I don't feel like telling you. Then afterwards he's like it's creepy how you smile with Ansem's face.
Mickey and Goofy can smell
So Pluto is in the novel sometimes around Axel and of course Kairi. When Mickey first sees Axel after Riku leaves, he sniffs him and is like oh it's you I thought it was Riku but you smell like Pluto.
Then later when Axel helps Goofy after his "death" he is like you smell like Pluto and at this point Axel is like AGAIN!?!?
Maleficent and Riku
Honestly I find this kinda charming and kinda nice.
At one point she calls Pete useless and how Riku was so much helpful and even got him what he was trying to do and gave him Kairi. She then admits that she was using him, but it made her kinda sad or a "thorn in her heart" that he left her without hesitation.
Then at one point Riku goes to see Maleficent and Maleficent is like oh you're alive and he says I see you came back from the dead. And it's great exchange.
He wanted to see if she'd fight the nobodies/ organization 13. But when he goes to her he wonders if he is betraying Mickey by doing that and he thinks it's all for Sora.
Riku opinion of DiZ request
So DiZ got Riku to do some things... that isn't great and afterwards he wonders if that was right.
After seeing how DiZ treated Naminé and views nobodies he is like Should I have fought Roxas? He was thinking Should I have destroyed him for him to go back to Sora? What if there was another way so he could still be here?
And I wanted to point it out that he obviously questions whether it was right and he was just following DiZ because he wanted Sora back and thought it was the ONLY way and much would have rather Roxas to stay as a person too.
DiZ offers Naminé ice cream
At one point Naminé goes back to the mansion in the middle of KH2 and she finds DiZ which she is surprised by. DiZ was harsh and mean to her at the beginning of the game and is weary of him,
But this dude straight up offers her sea salt ice cream like he didn't want her destroyed or want Riku to get rid of her (which Riku was like NAHHH I won't because he saw them as people and Sora was waking up). And then he says there are plenty more, you can share with friends 😀😁 LIKE COMPLETE SWAP
Saïx fight Riku and Naminé
First when Riku and Naminé is fighting Saïx while Axel gets Kairi, Saïx slaps Naminé and causes her to fly back.
Then he is like oh you're trying to protect your home from darkness (assuming he might corrupt it or by getting Kairi) and then he's like but you did that once before. LIKE 😭😭😭 THAT WAS UNCALLED FOR
And then he tells Riku he sold his Soul for Power. JUST wow, great character but man is he cold sometimes.
I never want Saïx to touch Naminé again though... Saïx over here hurting Axel and Naminé.
Donald and Goofy no longer tease about Kairi
So... In KH2 there are moments where Donald and Goofy tease Sora about Kairi with possible romantic implications
(though I'm not exactly sure since that is the English version which could have some transaction errors and there's a lot of added romantic moments because of English version)
In Halloween town, Sora also imagines himself dancing with Kairi when Jack and Sally dance, but in the novels none of these things happen. Donald and Goofy don't tease him about Kairi.
Shang and Mulan = Sora and Riku
So in land of the dragons when Sora sees Mulan and Shang he tears up and thinks of himself and Riku cause he missed him.
This does happen in the game, but it's more explicit here that he missed him and thinks of Riku and himself when he sees Shang and Mulan.
Sora always wanted to fight by Riku's side
In the novels throughout the ending battle Sora is so excited and is just glad to fight by Riku's side and he had always wanted to have him as an ally.
He states how he always hoped and dreamed he'd be able to.
He feels so excited and just glad to be able to do so.
Also want to point out that they feel better together and they're okay in the dark realm because they have the other
Sora doesn't care as long as Riku is okay
At one point Sora says, so what if he's in organization 13, it's fine.
Donald is like it's not they're a bad group of people.
This just shows how much he cares about him.
Axel pretends to betray Riku and Naminé to help Kairi
He told them he was going to and would give them their location and reassures them that he doubt Xemnas would come over.
And Xemnas ends up being the one going over....
#kingdom hearts#riku#sora#soriku#axel#Saïx#namine#ghost trio#axel namine and riku#kingdom Hearts 2#kh2#kh2 novel#Love Riku interaction with Maleficent#too bad dark riku and Maleficent didn't interact more in kh3#Saïx please don't slap Naminé#Naminé has more going on in the novel than Kairi 😭😭😭#If Sora ain't gay then why he picturing him and his BEST FRIEND when he sees Shang and Mulan — a couple#The added content eith Axel Naminé and Riku is so great#I love it#Goofy and Mickey smelling Pluto like Riku smells darkness 😭😭 😂#sea salt ice cream
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Dunderback, oh Dunderback…
Somewhat graphic descriptions of injury, isle-related violence. Not actually that dark despite this.
+
"Dizzy," Evie asks sweetly. "You've been on the isle more recently than us. Do the twins..."
She trails off meaningfully.
Dizzy blinks up at her like a little red-headed bobble toy. "Do they what? I was thinking about the best ways to starch cobweb lace into shape for a hair bow and I think I stopped listening at the end there. Sorry. What did they do now?"
Oh, little Dizzy. Never change.
Mal puts down her spoon, and actually swallows her mouthful of cereal, instead of talking with her mouth open and full, because despite her insinuations otherwise she is aware that it's a disgusting habit and Evie hates it. "Do they talk, Diz? Because from where we are, it looks like they've been here for a week, and the only people we've seen them talk to is each other."
They do talk!" Dizzy says quickly, putting down her own spoon as well. "Just. Not to other people."
Great. Perfect. They'll have a great time explaining that one to Fairy Godmother. Their new kids, who are supposed to be a hand-picked selection of model citizens, fresh from the ferocious claws of Harriet Hook herself, only talk to each other. That'll go over great, Mal's sure of it. Nothing at all to make FG absolutely nutty there.
Still. Mal's old and wise now, and the twins' issues aren't Dizzy's fault.
"Do they talk to you, Diz?" she asks, trying to emulate Evie's sweet tone. "We thought maybe they like you better than us."
Dizzy frowns. Her whole face scrunches up when she does it. It's cute, but it's also a reminder that they have got to get that girl a new pair of glasses that aren't so broken they're falling off her face. Maybe there's a special Auradon glasses store out there somewhere, where they'll be able to achieve one of Evie's lifelong dreams and get glasses that are actually cute and functional for Dizzy.
And maybe sheep will fly, and the twins will start talking, and they'll all get a pony.
Dizzy pushes her glasses back up her nose with a practiced flick of her fingers. "Well, no. They used to talk to me more, but... Evie, do we have to talk about it?"
"We want to make sure they can communicate with us, Diz."
Dizzy sighs. Her sharp little elbows are resting on the table, which is another thing they're going to have to train her out of before the fall. Fairy Godmother is nuts about table manners. "They used to talk more, but there was a fight in March between Hook's crew and Harriet's crew, and it got so loud that a bunch of the unaffiliated pirates decided it was their problem to shut them all up before they all started burning buildings again, so they stepped in with their swords, which were fresh out of Gaston's fight club, the one he fired Gil from, remember?"
"I remember.”
Spirits bolstered by the acknowledgement, Dizzy nods, and flicks her glasses up her nose again. "So their swords were really sharp, and Mister Smee, he's the one who always tries to step between pirates and talk them down when they're getting loud, because he knows how mean the neighborhood is. But this time, the unaffiliated gang didn't let him get a word in, and they--" She stops. "Do I have to say it? I don't want to remember."
Mal looks to Evie, who shrugs, and looks back to Dizzy again. They're not really equipped to deal with something so bad that even Dizzy won't talk about it, but if they don't know what they're dealing with, they're not going to be able to make a plan of action. "You can summarize."
"They made him into meat." Dizzy says bluntly, shuddering. "It was awful. Like sausages were spilling out of him, only it was just guts, and I had to go wash the blood off the front steps after, because Harriet dragged him out and brought him to the house, because she knows that Anthony keeps a guts needle in the house, and the twins were there when they were stitching him back up, and I don't think they saw everything that happened, but they were there when-- when he started dying for real, and I think that's when they stopped talking to other people."
#my fic#descendants#descendants fic#Harriet and Anthony and Sammy and Maddy do exist in this AU!!#they’re just#playing some isle politics games#so they’re not exactly on their way to Auradon yet
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daemon targaryen x mãe leitora, cenário onde daemon adolescente deixa a fortaleza vermelha sem avisar sua mãe e os guardas, e vai direto reivindicar Caraxes (a leitora era irmã gêmea de Aemon) e quando está voando pode ver que sua mãe e avó estão na janela observando-o da janela, e quando ele volta do passeio sua mãe está esperando por ele e diz "nunca saia sem avisar a mim e aos guardas onde você está indo pegou?!", Daemon abaixa sua cabeça, mas não vê o sorriso de sua mãe quando ela diz "estou orgulhoso de você" então eles se abraçam
She is the twin sister of the reader Aemon Targaryen. The King and Queen's favorite daughter are the reader. It is necessary to say that the reader is the beloved Princess of the Realm. Prince Daemon is one of the reader's children. The Reader and the Queen are having afternoon tea. Through the window the reader sees his son Daemon flying with the dragon Caraxes.
"Scenario"
Prince Daemon returns to the Palace a few hours later. He knows he's in trouble when he sees his mother approaching him.
"It's not right for you to leave the Palace with me and the guards."
Prince Dameon bows his head. However, his mother's soft hand grabs his chin and raises the Daemon's head.
"I don't want you to do that again."
"Yes mom."
"I'm proud of you. My mighty dragon."
Daemon's eyes gleam with happiness at these words. The reader rewards her son by giving him lemon cakes.
#hotd x reader#house of the dragon#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targeryan#daemon targeryen x reader#daemon targaryen#hotd daemon#house of targaryen#house targaryen
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Le Cirque du Fantasme | Part Three
Word Count: 13.1k
A/N: IN UNDER THE FUCKING WIRE. I am never, ever proofing 20k on the same day I need to publish, especially when I have to work and hand out Halloween candy. I am so sorry if the editing is sloppy. I'll fix it when I'm not seconds away from passing out on my keyboard.
I really really really hope you enjoy. I love this universe, and I'm super proud of it.
Cvr | 01 | 02 | 03
Minhyuk couldn’t be more eager. He shoots to the pool of silk and waits for his fellow aerialist to disentangle himself from their starlet and join him. They fan out the ribbons and snap them like bed sheets until they are twice as wide as Mariam ever realized.
Jooheon offers his hand, and she takes it as he leads her to the mat. With her standing, they flare one ribbon around her neck and shoulders and then criss-cross it with the other around her whole back. When they are satisfied, they push her back, two of the men supporting her sides until she is laying in a cradle of silk.
“Comfortable?” Changkyun asks as he looks down on her with the vaguest hint of a smile.
“I’m good,” she answers.
Minhyuk crosses her legs at the ankles so he can wrap one of the silks around it and then wrap the other in the same fashion around her opposing ankle. He then ties them off together in a charming bow that tickles the back of her calves.
She’s immobile now, swinging in the air like meat in a smokehouse, and as she twists, she sees she’s admired with the exact same kind of craving.
“You really are an artist, Min,” praises Jooheon, a finger nibbled between his teeth as he ogles her.
“I have a beautiful canvas,” the aerialist replies cavalierly.
“That you do.”
Changkyun runs a finger from her knee down to her hip to toy with the hem of the bodysuit. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. The way those black eyes glide like oil along her body to her face makes her quiver. Though her legs are secured, her hands flounder on her belly as she waits.
“Will this hurt?” she asks as she studies the two sylphs bookending her.
Jooheon shakes his head as he massages her calf. “You couldn't be in more capable hands. Would you like to see?”
“Okay,” she says shakily.
“Gentlemen…”
Both aerialists hover over her, their smiles unique though their gentleness mirrors the other’s.
“We performers are nothing if not in total control at all times,” assures Changkyun. “Let us show you all the ways we can please you.”
Changkyun produces an ice cube between his fingers, and as he twists it, it scatters honeyed light brighter and brighter and brighter around her. Only then does she notice that a flame flickers on Minhyuk’s fingertip. He brings it closer to the ice cube, and Jooheon whispers lowly, “Open your mouth.”
Mariam does, and chilly drops of water explode on her tongue. She can’t help it—she moans.
“Tastes good, right?” says the redhead. “Let’s shift the balance a bit though.”
The flame on Minhyuk’s finger doubles in size so he had to hold it between his thumb now, too. This time, the cube melts completely in Changkyun’s palm. Slowly, the air sylph tips his cupped hand, and the water drizzles not in her mouth but along the open swath of her collarbone. It sizzles against her skin like candle wax, and she hisses and writhes and, again, her moan cannot be held back.
“Not all pain hurts the same. Some of it can be addictive.”
Changkyun’s barely finished his sentence before she’s pleading with huge, green eyes, “Please, more!”
The trio of men laugh.
“You were right,” says Minhyuk through his chuckle.
“Dreams are just a window to the heart,” replies Jooheon. “Let’s take things to the next level.”
“Up she goes,” announces Changkyun a minute later, and suddenly, she is rising.
As she ascends, she spirals, and Mariam glances to the left in time to see the blue-haired man hiking up the cable until her body is level with their faces, like a dumbwaiter bringing their meal to them.
Minhyuk holds her cheeks, and from this vantage, she has a dizzying inverted view of his sensual lips.
“Well, hello there,” he says before he pecks her on the lips.
She only has a moment to savor the sweetness of the encounter before he strokes the edge of her face and then dives in for another kiss. The upside-down angle allows the surface of his tongue to stroke her fully, and she tastes him completely—his pervasive heat and spicy cinnamon depths with a smoky aftertaste that lingers like a memory she’s never made but still feels like a part of her.
Mariam gets lost in his mouth until she feels scintillating pressure at her clothed sex. She has to tear her lips from Minhyuk’s just to breathe. When she lifts her head, she finds Jooheon’s eyes peering at her from around her trussed legs. She can’t see his mouth, but she can tell from his rainbow-arched eyes that he’s grinning.
“How’s that feel?” he asks, and a moment later, the pressure deepens until she feels an intrusion between her lower lips despite the lycra’s firm resistance.
Her head lolls back, and she lets out a pitiful sob. “I want more…”
Jooheon’s eyes firm up, and his gaze flicks between his two friends. “You heard the lady.”
Minhyuk shuffles to her side while Changkyun takes the opposite, and everything seems to happen at once. It may have been her own fault because it was exactly what she’d asked for, but the deluge of hedonism that follows completely overwhelms her.
Changkyun guides her sin-slackened lips to his, and while he numbs her mouth with a messy kiss, Minhyuk gropes her chest. The fabric of the bodysuit is unforgiving, pressing, pressing, pressing against her while it binds, but the fire sylph’s heat penetrates anyway. She arches into his hand and wishes for more, though she is too high for him to indulge in fully.
Or so she thinks.
“As darling as you look in this,” comes the silken voice beside her, “it is spoiling my fun.”
Mariam turns her head from Changkyun and finds Minhyuk hovering now. He doesn’t seem to have wings like Wonho, yet he’s clearly levitating. Again, it’s probably something she should be more shocked about, but it feels so natural, especially since it allows him to touch her exactly the way she yearns to be touched.
The fire sylph lifts the costume’s neckline roughly so that the chill of autumn can finally kiss her skin, and the next thing Mariam knows, his fingertip is scarlet, and he draws a line through the center of the bodysuit down to her navel. With the surgical precision of a laser, he burns through the fabric. The acrid sting of smoke singes the air. Her tits bounce free, her nipples hardening instantly, and Minhyuk tilts in the air so that he can bring the tip of that scorching tongue to her aching bud.
The sensation is intense, like the first kiss of a flame to a wick, and she ignites. Her back lifts in the ribbons as she tugs on them to deepen the arch into the aerialist’s mouth. Minhyuk swirls that red-hot tongue around her puckering edges, and while she’s never been particularly sensitive there, it feels like her every nerve ending has convened in his mouth.
She whimpers, but that is met with a soft tsk-tsk.
“Mariam.”
She lifts her head and strains all of her attention toward the ringmaster peering at her from behind her thighs.
“You know we’re performers, right?” he says.
“Right.”
“So it’s very important to us that you don’t hold anything back. The louder you are, the better we know we’re pleasing you.”
“But what about the people backstage?” she asks with a worried brow.
Jooheon smirks. “Well, maybe that's just an added bonus for me. I like to rub it in a little that the most beautiful girl who's ever walked into this tent chose me.”
Minhyuk selects that exact moment to engulf her nipple in his hot, wet mouth, and Mariam cries out at full force this time. Instead of pulling on the ribbons, she forks her hand through his hair and crushes him against her breast as she pants.
Her mouth is already hanging open, so it’s easy for Changkyun to turn her back to him, and he helps himself to it. His frozen tongue running over hers has her nipples tightening even further, which makes the sylph at her chest hum with pleasure. Minhyuk takes to nibbling the hardened flesh as his big hand slithers across her ribs to her other breast to tug and pinch with just the right pressure.
“Oh my god,” she breathes between heavy kisses. “Oh my god.”
“Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” Jooheon murmurs, pleased. “Off to a great start. Let’s send you over the edge though and see just how needy you can get.”
Fingers hook at last around the seat of the ruined bodysuit, and once it’s pulled to the side, her body temperature plummets. Were it not for the fire brand of Minhyuk’s mouth on her, she would be shivering.
“Boys?”
Both Minhyuk and Changkyun lift their heads to look at the ringmaster.
“You have to see this,” says Jooheon.
The sylphs answer his call, and Mariam lifts her head to see where they’ve gone only to find them lined up in a handsome row, all three pairs of eyes fixed to her exposed pussy. Minhyuk has his arms propped on Jooheon’s shoulders, and Jooheon has an arm wrapped around Changkyun’s waist. Each man smiles drunkenly.
“Now, isn’t that the prettiest sight you’ve ever seen?” the ringmaster asks.
Suddenly, a tongue blazes up the length of her seam, and Mariam cries out before she sags in her basket of ribbons.
“Tastiest thing ever, too, mm-mm,” muses Minhyuk.
Changkyun shakes his head with a tsk-tsk-tsk. “You’re absolutely dripping wet, princess. And I thought you were so innocent.”
Jooheon lets out a little chuckle. “Not our wild little Mariam here. Let me show you.”
The ringmaster draws the air sylph in closer, and just as he did with her at the ticket booth, he brushes his lips against his friend’s. Jooheon barely has time to come up for air before the fire sylph yanks their leader by the neck and jerks his lips to his as well.
It’s just a quick graze, but the sight unearths yet another primitive desire she’d never realized she’d been harboring.
Jooheon pulls back and suckles on his bottom lip. His already thin eyes are razor blades as he utters darkly, “You taste like her.”
Minhyuk chuckles. “Couple more minutes and we all will.”
The redhead leaves his friends’ sides to take up alongside Mariam’s. Since she’s hanging high up, he rests his chin on her shoulder and studies her like she’s the mythical creature instead of him. “You really are full of surprises, sweet Mariam.”
“I don’t know what that means,” she replies, but each word shakes as hard as her heart.
Minhyuk runs his spindly fingers back through her hair to free it from under her neck, and it dangles like the spare ribbons below her. He looks at her with such admiration that her throat goes dry. Slowly, he leans forward to kiss her cheek.
“You will.”
This time when the fire sylph takes her tits in his hot hands, he pulls a little rougher on her nipples, and she moans sharply. Everything inside her contracts, and the silks jostle the fasteners in the rafters. There’s no hiding her overwhelming arousal. Mariam feels it, especially when a jet of cold air rushes over the exposed mess. Instead of a shiver, she throbs and feels a different kind of tremor rip through her as she leaks a little more.
Changkyun quits blowing on her so he can instead whistle sharply next to Jooheon. “Shit. She’s dripping on the floor now? Unbelievable.”
“Enough’s enough,” growls Jooheon as he shoos away his fellow performer. “Time to dig in.”
While the air sylph bookends Mariam’s free side, behind her thighs, she feels a fingertip gloss up the arc of her ass to, at last, push into her eager core. Her breath catches, even as Minhyuk continues his play at her nipples and Changkyun sucks a patch at her throat. As good as everything feels, her whole being has centered on the welcome intrusion in her walls.
Jooheon withdraws his finger to the tip and pushes back in to the filthy symphony of her arousal.
“Wow,” he whispers, “you truly are a good listener, baby. Even your pussy is nice and loud.”
As if to hammer home the point, his finger picks up speed to coax forth a lurid squelching. It’s mortifying, but the friction is so delicious that Mariam sheds the last of her conservative pretenses. There’s no point in hiding how badly she has yearned for this kind of adoration, especially since there’s nothing she can do to hide the shamelessness between her legs.
The dark corners of her mind have been whispering temptations too illicit to ever admit, but Jooheon knows what she’s always been too afraid to acknowledge. She longs to be a buffet of sin that these beautiful men need to devour. She wants to be admired and used and reused until she can barely walk.
“Feels so good,” she whines.
“Do you want to feel more?” probes the ringmaster.
“So much more!”
“Good because so do we.”
Jooheon fixes that fabulous mouth to her core, and stars shoot across Mariam’s eyes. Her hands lash out this time for the two sylphs, and both of them hum delightedly at her touch. The dream-eater’s tongue is nowhere near as scalding as Minhyuk’s, but it is diligent and targeted. It should come as no surprise that someone whose career revolves around his skill with his mouth is a master between the legs, but after just a few broad strokes up her seam and then a few swirls and suckles at her clit, she is surprised at the way her belly is already screaming with a pressure she’s never quite felt before.
“You’re going to make me cum already,” Mariam warns frantically, and both sylphs shift their keen attention to her face.
“Good. Then cum,” Jooheon replies before he dives back in, suckling even more determinedly on her clit.
Mariam screams.
Her climax rips through her more savagely than anything she's ever experienced. Her bindings prevent her muscles from thrashing the way they need to, so, instead, she wriggles like a caught fish, and, as though to emphasize how pathetic she truly is, she's gasping for breath like one, too. Her hands inadvertently claw that the shoulders of the two aerialists as she struggles to cling to her own sanity.
A string of incredulous nonsense tumbles from her slackened lips as her head sags backward.
“How long has it been since you’ve cum, love?” marvels Changkyun as he threads his fingers through the dampening hair at her brow.
Mariam works to form a coherent sentence between her heavy panting and Jooheon’s fingers, which alternate between prodding her entrance and rubbing clit. “Not sure… I ever… have… Oh god!”
Minhyuk sneers and snarls. “So neglected. If I knew who’s been leaving you so unsatisfied, I’d burn—”
“Easy, Min,” reminds Changkyun.
But she can barely make out their words. The pressure between her hips hasn’t lessened, even with her release, and it’s so powerful that she can’t stop quivering in her binds.
Jooheon chuckles darkly. “Pretty little pussy still throbbing so pathetically.”
He sweeps his hand urgently back and forth across her lips now, and Mariam squirms from the intensity.
“It’s too much!” she squeals and bucks, but all three men shake their heads.
“Just a little more,” coaches the ringmaster. “Ride it out. Ride it all out. You can do it. Give it to us, baby.”
Her climax pulses onward, tapping her for every last bit of sanity she’s been struggling to hold onto. It’s like her first orgasm never stopped, only grown hotter and fiercer, and her cries march on. Her legs thrash in their ties, and she swings, though Jooheon’s there to snatch her waist and steady her.
“You did so well, sweetheart,” he assures, both hands rubbing the back of her legs as he places gentle kisses to her calves. “Breathe. Breathe.”
Mariam struggles to do anything but sag helplessly into the chiffon.
“I’m so tired,” she laughs, though it’s through a few tears.
“Quitting so soon?” says Jooheon with a heavy note of disappointment. “And we made you our main event, too…”
“No, I—”
“Aw, damnit,” murmurs Changkyun as he clutches his chest.
Minhyuk kisses her cheek then before he snares her gaze. “You nearly broke the man’s heart, darling.”
Mariam whips her head toward the air sylph and funnels all her sincerity at him. “I didn’t mean to!”
“It’s okay,” Jooheon comforts with a squeeze of her leg. “As long as you’re not leaving us yet.”
“No, I don’t want to!”
“You don’t?”
“No, no, no,” she begs. “I can’t leave you.”
She should add “yet,” but she can’t find the energy.
“Good,” says the ringmaster. “Have you cooled down enough? Are you ready for more?”
Mariam nods, and Jooheon’s quick to run a finger back up her slit. It makes her shiver, but it also makes the blue-haired man beside her grumble.
“Hey!” Changkyun protests. “It’s my turn.”
“I made the mess. I’ll clean it up,” Jooheon returns firmly.
At this, Minhyuk intercedes by swiveling Mariam like a lazy Susan straight to the air sylph’s mouth. With a tut, he says, “You know this is his favorite.”
“It’s one of my favorites, too,” pouts Jooheon.
The redhead scoffs. “You like everything. It’s Kyun’s favorite. Besides, you did set him up with that ‘cooled down’ pun.”
“That wasn’t intentional…” Minhyuk glowers at his dimpled friend, and the ringmaster lets out a long sigh. “Fine.”
Mariam catches a flash of Changkyun’s eyes as she’s lined up for him. They’re vortexes, and they’re pulling her inextricably to him. She’s never seen eyes so absolutely blackened by lust, and they are centered solely on her soaking wet heat.
The man doesn’t say a word. He just dives forward, his nose and mouth immediately pressed to her cunt in a hungry kiss. Desire roils off of her so palpably that she swears she’s steaming in the autumn air, but Changkyun’s mouth is another matter entirely. He feels like the fog that brought her here in the first place—cool, damp, cloying. He brushes over her leisurely, leaving his presence known with a chill that’s as luxurious as it is enticing.
Where Jooheon had eaten her out with the obvious intent of setting the record for fastest orgasm, Changkyun explores her folds like this has nothing to do with her—this is for him. He’s humming down there between her legs, his fingers curling around the meat of her thighs to press her harder into his mouth. When his tongue at last quests for her clit, his cool tip sends shivers jolting through her with every languid circle.
Mariam pants and clenches under Changkyun’s diligent attentions, and while the speed and friction isn’t nearly fast enough to bring her to her edge yet, it’s spectacular. She’s never had someone ravish her—consume her—before, but it brings a different kind of pleasure. She’s never felt so desired… or so needed. It’s altering her.
It’s not just her body that craves release anymore—it’s her soul. She’s becoming someone new.
Someone greedy.
Someone wanton.
Someone completely and utterly willing.
“So good… Please don’t stop,” she whimpers.
“What a polite little thing,” Minhyuk laughs as he twirls a lock of her hair around his finger. “What she means to say is make her cum already, Kyun.”
Mariam is really not in a hurry, not when Changkyun’s cool mouth is stirring such a delicious ache in her core, but then, it’s clear that’s not what the fiery aerialist really means.
“I knew I should have gone second,” grumbles Minhyuk. “He’ll be there all night if he has his way.”
At this, the blue-haired man lifts his mouth from his entrée just long enough to say, “If I have my way, she’ll never leave and I can be here as many nights as I want.”
The redhead doesn’t even have time enough to roll his eyes before Changkyun is back to savoring her. Still, Minhyuk’s obviously not one to let things go, especially not when it’s interfering with his own good time.
Mariam hisses as a sharp pain flares across the meat of her ass. Her head shoots up as she furrows her brow at Minhyuk, who is now staring at her cheekily with his chin resting on her hip.
“Hi, beautiful,” he says.
“Did you just bite me?” she says incredulously.
Jooheon steps forward, a scowl darkening his bright face. “Did you bite her?”
“I’m bored. I want pussy, and, in my defense, her ass is very biteable.”
“You’re insane,” scolds the ringmaster.
“Hey, it was just a play bite. It wasn’t like I was marking her. I’m not Hyunwoo.”
“No, I know. He’s more domesticated than you are.”
The two friends devolve into laughter until they sober up enough to return their attention to the man whose tongue hasn’t broken stride across their starlet’s cunt yet.
“He hasn’t heard a word we’ve just said,” Jooheon observes.
Minhyuk shrugs. “You know how he gets.”
“He hasn’t even,” stutters Mariam through a fresh wave of arousal, “ah, come up… for air.”
The redhead laughs. “He doesn’t have to. But he needs to for a second. Cube, Kyunnie. Come on.”
As though just to spite his friend, Changkyun doesn’t lift his mouth from her even as he presents his open palm, and quickly, a little block of ice assembles itself from thin air. Once it’s fully formed, Minhyuk plucks it from the other aerialist’s palm only to situate it in his own.
In a matter of moments, the ice has melted into a puddle. The redhead contorts his hand into a shallow funnel shape and drizzles the water, droplet by droplet, directly onto her clit. It’s so warm, like massage oil, but it sends pleasure like electricity through her limbs. It’s even more exquisite when the air sylph’s chilly tongue slakes desperately from the stream as it sluices over her hardened bud.
“I can’t hold it back anymore,” she shouts. Her fingers wrench the scarves around her, and her body winds up on itself.
“Give it to Changkyun, sweet Mariam,” says Minhyuk as he brushes her hair. “Feed him well.”
“Oh, no!” she calls mindlessly as she shatters.
Rockets of ecstasy fire through her veins. She jerks and shudders and struggles to breathe. It’s even more potent than her last climax, and she wonders if they manage to rip another from her, will she still be conscious after?
The intensity dulls, and Mariam’s limbs go leaden. Her belly is slack and painfully aware of how empty it still is. She’s given and given by now, but she hasn’t been refilled. Something about it makes her want to cry.
“Oh… Oh…” she blabbers.
Minhyuk chuckles. “Still so sweet after all that…”
“Very sweet,” the other aerialist agrees as he licks his fingertips and then his lips.
“I have got to do something about all this innocence.”
Minhyuk’s vow has Mariam chewing her lip in anticipation. This is it—the freedom she’s been seeking though she’s been too afraid to confront that part of herself. Her whole life has been framed to project the picture of the normal, simple girl, the one accepted in every corner of respectable society, but deep in her soul, she’s not simple. Now, she doesn’t need to be accepted by anyone but this troupe of, for lack of a better work, circus freaks.
The redhead moves Changkyun a few steps back, just to make it clear there will be no second helpings, before he grabs a hold of her legs and steers her toward his station. Once Minhyuk has positioned her all to himself, his hands begin to roam—greedily, enthusiastically, curiously—until, at last, they grope the apple of her ass. There, they squeeze rhythmically as the pretty man hums.
“I’ve been thinking,” he says. “It’s kind of funny how we have you tied and tarted up like this for us, but here the three of us are, tripping over each other to please you. Who exactly is in charge here?”
Mariam blinks as she tries to clear the fog from her gaze so she can form a coherent thought, and all three men groan.
Jooheon presses his mouth to hers in a rush, and his tongue thrusts in unexpectedly. She winds her hand automatically into his soft hair so she can press back into him just as urgently.
When, at last, he pushes back, the dimpled man exhales shakily as he murmurs, “How can you look like some lost little doe but kiss like some succubus? Damn, I think Min’s right. I’m beginning to think you’re the one here who can hijack all our dreams.”
“Mm,” says Minhyuk, “that’s a good start then because I don’t think I’m going to be satisfied until we’ve made you as desperate for us as we are for you.”
“I need you!” Mariam insists.
“You do?”
“Yes! Yes, I need you—all of you. So much.”
Minhyuk grins. “I don’t know… You’ve already cum a couple times. I feel like you’re just about done with us.”
“No, please no! I want more.”
“You want more?”
Mariam nods furiously as her voice shakes when she whispers, “Down there.”
“‘Down there?’” the aerialist parrots with a laugh that is definitely mocking. “Baby, I know you can do better than that. I thought you were desperate for us?”
“I am!”
“Tell you what, I’m going to get you there, I promise. Pretty soon you’re not going to be able to keep your dirty thoughts to yourself. For now, I’m gonna open you up first and show you you don't have to hide with us.”
Mariam grabs his wrist, and when his eyes shoot to hers, she implores, “Show me how to let go, Minhyuk.”
Beside her, Jooheon curses.
The fire sylph’s tongue probes the corner of his mouth before he nods. “Promising… Very promising.”
He leans forward to briefly kiss her over-eager clit, and Mariam yelps, but Minhyuk clearly has grander plans. He cups her heat, and she's overwhelmed, not just by his much warmer skin, but by the sheer size of his hand. He slots her sticky lips between his fingers as he glides up and down her sex. It's slow, methodical, and, thanks to her unending arousal, embarrassingly noisy.
Sometimes, he switches to rubbing both thumbs along her folds, and other times, he warms his fingertips a little more before he takes hold of her clit and rocks it back and forth enticingly between his finger and thumb. As soon as she starts singing from the delicious friction though, he moves elsewhere. Her entire consciousness is wrapped up between her thighs, and if she doesn’t get some relief soon, she’s worried she’ll never escape from the swamp of indulgence she’s mired in.
“Getting pretty swollen down here, sweet Mariam. Ripe as a peach…” Minhyuk leans forward so his fire brand of a tongue can lick up her seam and swirl once around her clit. She whines and cants her hips to his silken mouth, but he pulls back, catches her gaze, and crudely wipes the back of his hand across his lips to smear her sinful lip gloss across his cheek. “Mm, just as juicy.”
Unexpectedly, Changkyun shoots up to his toes to lick the indecent streak from his friend’s skin, and Minhyuk beams.
“Wow,” she whimpers, though it’s a borderline sob at this point, “you are very bad men.”
“You don’t mean that,” pouts Jooheon.
Mariam bites her lip. “It sounds bad. It all just seems so wrong.”
But Minhyuk isn’t nearly as bothered by the bad boy label as the ringmaster. “See, that’s how you know it’s just what you need. You crave the bad things, we all know it. Thanks to our pretty Honey there, I’ve seen what’s deep inside your sexy little mind, Mariam. Isn’t it exhausting, keeping up this charade that you’re like everyone else?”
“Yeah…”
“You don’t need to bother with us ever. You’re safe here. You can be all that you are and so much more.”
She’s writhing tragically in her binds, lurching in every way that she can to tempt Minhyuk’s fingers into her so she can plummet over an even sharper ledge, but he’s steadfast. He maintains a hypnotic stroke across her puffy skin. Mariam knows she’s throbbing—she can feel her heartbeat in her cunt—but he won’t give in because she hasn’t given in.
It’s not that she doesn’t want to, but the tenterhooks of her old life refuse to give way. She wants to let go, but she realizes she still has a few fingers clinging to the ledge because it’s more than a little terrifying, the thought of freefalling into the unknown.
“Just tell me what you need,” urges the fire sylph.
“And you complained about me taking forever,” Changkyun grumbles before she can answer, but Minhyuk just shakes his head.
“That was different. That was just about you. This is for a higher purpose.”
“This is definitely about you,” the other aerialist mutters.
Again, Minhyuk shakes his head. “That’s not true, is it, sweet Mariam?”
She has no idea what the fire sylph is talking about, but she’s delirious with the ceaselessly mounting pleasure, so she’ll concede everything at this point. “No!”
“Tell me what you want.”
“Please!”
“Aw, she’s cute when she begs,” coos Jooheon.
“You call that begging? It’s not nearly enough,” tuts Minhyuk. “You want something from me, baby, you need to make me feel your desperation. You’ve got to convince me.”
The aerialist parts her sex, and her hopes soar to the big top. Her core pulses. She cries out—whines.
But the dream is too beautiful to last, and he pulls his hands back again to return to painting her wet lust up and down her seam.
This time when Mariam cries, it’s accompanied with real tears. Her voice is small and pitiable. “Please…”
“Aren’t you being too hard on her?” Jooheon admonishes.
Minhyuk shrugs a shoulder. “Don’t talk to me. Talk to her. This is her own doing. I’m beginning to think she likes teasing herself.”
Jooheon scowls and circles back to her face. Her head droops back over the scarves now as she whimpers. Sweat beads roll up her brow to her hair line as her eyes roll back in her head. She’s a mess. Even without being able to see herself, she knows exactly how depraved she looks.
The dimpled man kisses her cheek suddenly and lets his lips linger there even as he whispers, “Come on, Mariam, baby, sweetheart. Give Min what he wants so we can all give you what we want. Just give in. Let go. Be with us.”
It’s not just Minhyuk’s fingers preparing to pry her next orgasm from her; it’s Jooheon’s urgency prying loose the last hold she has on the old Mariam.
She’s not innocent, and she doesn’t want to be. She’s wild. She’s wanton. She’s a Fantasme, and she belongs here.
“I want it! I want you!” Mariam shouts as she shoots up in the chiffon. “I don’t care anymore—I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll be whatever you want. Just please don’t stop. I have to cum. I need to cum for you. Please, Minhyuk, please, I need you.”
Her eyes meet his. She's sure the fire in her gaze mirrors the fire in his. Her hands knot in the ribbons as she pants and bucks.
“Anything, I’ll do anything,” she continues, though this time her voice is leaden like an anvil. “Please, I have to cum. Open me up! Put your fingers inside me, and let me cum!”
The fire sylph smirks. “Now, that’s how you beg. Attagirl, baby. You’re going to cum so hard for us, I promise.”
Minhyuk’s mercy overtakes her in the form of two very long, very dedicated fingers thrusting into her walls straight to the knuckle. A scream tears from her chest as he plumbs her every nerve. He’s warm and thick and burrowing so deeply into her that Mariam’s sure her humanity abandons her. It feels so right to be this wrong.
“You've been hiding your true self so far down,” he muses as his fingers drill to unfathomable depths inside her. “Let's see what we can do to set you free, pretty baby. We’re going to give you the whole world.”
“She’s close,” Jooheon says as he fondles her tits and studies her contorted features.
Changkyun threads his arm through the ribbons at her side and wheedles his hand between her pressed thighs. The chilled pad of his finger circles her blazing clit, and the assault on her remaining sensibilities overwhelms.
With Minhyuk’s fingers buried knuckle-deep in her cunt, Mariam cums. It’s too violent for sound itself. She simply contracts and explodes. Maybe her breathing even stops—she can’t be sure. It doesn’t matter anyway. She has never felt even a fraction as alive even as it feels like a death of sorts. She is shattered and unhinged on an elemental level.
Eventually, with all three men soothing and singing her back to reality, Mariam crystallizes into something new entirely.
Her eyes flutter open, and she finds Jooheon’s sweet face. His dimples are there, soft like a lover’s creases in the sheets. He’s staring at her as though he’s trying to imprint on her soul. She’s sure he has.
“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks.
She nods dumbly.
Her throat is dry, so she swallows hard and tries to find her voice, and when she does, it doesn’t quite sound like the gentle, even voice she’s always had. She sounds confident and assertive, even this wrapped up.
“I want all of you to fuck me.”
Minhyuk grins ear-to-ear. He turns to Changkyun and says smugly, “You’re welcome.”
“Changkyun first, Jooheon last,” she demands.
Minhyuk looks even more smug. “I’m not last this time.”
“That just means she wants me to leave the last impression,” replies Jooheon.
“Please,” the redhead says, “our girl is practical through and through. You think she wants to end the night with a cold pussy?”
“Minhyuk!” both his friends shout.
“I do have control over it, you know,” grouses Changkyun as an add-on.
At this, Mariam lays a hand on his forearm, and everyone stills. The air sylph looks as frozen as his mesmerizing skin. Under her hand, his ethereal opalescence feels as cold as marble though the texture is just as supple as her own flesh.
She smiles softly at him as she says, “I’m not worried, Changkyun. I can’t wait to be with you.”
Now, everyone is frozen. A line has been crossed between bound plaything and boundless creatures. There is more affection in her words than anyone anticipated, and it has changed the way they look at her.
“I don’t want to wait anymore either,” echoes Changkyun, and with a supportive nod from his fellow performers, he lowers her suspension and begins unwinding the ties at her ankles.
Both Jooheon and Minhyuk join in her unraveling as they twist and guide her form in the silks. They secure half of the chiffon around and between her thighs and then around her waist, and it’s very similar to the pose they’d taught her in warm-ups. Their organized devilry delights her though she quickly realizes that the tension at her hips will become too much all too fast.
Of course, the aerialists already know this, and it’s clear they’re not finished orchestrating her body. Minhyuk lifts her chest—and definitely takes some liberties as he does so—while Changkyun threads the other silk under her arms a few times. Now, her weight is evenly distributed as she dangles once more, this time with her ass up and out. He ties the two ends across her back, and the redhead grins.
“The prettiest little package…”
Instead of acknowledging his friend, Changkyun turns to Mariam. “Is this okay?”
She nods. “For now.”
“If you get sore or uncomfortable, just let us know.”
“You can’t imagine all the holds we’d like to truss you up in,” adds Minhyuk.
“I can’t wait any longer. Please fuck me,” she confesses, and she feels both sets of her cheeks must be red with such a truth.
The fire sylph is positively gluttonous at his triumph, and he belts out a deep laugh. “She does know naughty words after all. What fun!”
“Come on, Min,” says Jooheon with a clap on his friend’s back. “I wouldn’t mind some ringside seats for now.”
The pair agree to step back so Changkyun can fill the window of her vision. The air sylph strips out of his pants, the lycra peeling reluctantly from his sinew. Mariam had thought that, because the fabric was skintight to begin with, seeing him completely naked wouldn’t be nearly so memorable, but she was horribly and inexcusably wrong.
Completely bare, Changkyun is a sight to behold.
His every muscle is defined with merciless precision. His chest is sculpted just as his abs undulate in textbook swells. They all taper down to a symmetrical belt of muscle at his hips that begs to be worshipped. While his thighs are nowhere near as massive as Shownu’s or Wonho’s had hinted, they are sleek and defined—bitable, as Minhyuk might say.
And then there’s his cock… Just like the rest of him, it is smooth and ethereal, and though there has always been a translucence to him, she sees its grand length in inescapable full focus.
Mariam wants to taste him, to swallow him deep down in her throat. Shamefully, she wonders if it would be like sucking on a popsicle.
“Did she just drool?” Minhyuk barks with an incredulous laugh.
She looks down in horror to find a droplet on the floor beneath her, and her body heats further at her exposure.
Changkyun smirks. It’s unbearably sexy.
He takes himself in hand and pumps his shaft devilishly slowly.
“Later,” he promises, though, even more unfairly, he closes the gap between her mouth and his length so he is just out of reach. He gives himself a few more good tugs, and up this close, she can see how his fat cockhead bulges with every stroke of his fist.
Mariam whimpers.
With a low grunt, he jerks to the side and disappears at last from view, though she feels him a moment later at her backside when one heavy hand gropes her cheek and then her wet sex.
“Damnit,” he grunts as he cups her roughly. “I could fucking melt inside you, you’re so hot.”
Her fever was already at a boiling point, but anticipating what’s about to come next has her bubbling beneath her skin. She’s so eager, she might erupt just from the promise of his cock inside her.
“Maybe you should ease her into this, Kyun?” Jooheon suggests, but Mariam shakes her head.
“No more teasing, please. Just fill me.”
All three men groan.
“Damnit, it’s going to be hard for me to hold back,” Changkyun warns as he grips her hips and squares himself up with her seam. To Minhyuk, he orders, “Little lower.”
Mariam feels herself descend a bit, and her stomach leaps. She grasps the scarves at her chest like it’s her last handhold for sanity itself.
Changkyun’s chilled cock grazes her cunt. She shivers hard, but it’s much more from the anticipation.
“Goddamnit,” he groans. “Are you ready, doll baby?”
“Hurry, please. Put it inside me, Changkyun.”
Her lower lips part for the blunt head of his dick, and she swears she can hear a damp hiss. Even if he doesn’t hear the same thing, judging by his nails biting into the meat of her hips, the air sylph feels the intensity as keenly as Mariam does.
He sucks in a breath and pushes into her hole straight to his hilt.
They cry out in unison, both of them collapsing, her into her net of chiffon and him onto her back. The swing sways them like lovers dancing as they adjust to each other’s temperature.
She didn’t know what exactly she’d been expecting from a creature like Changkyun, but despite all her build-up, Mariam couldn’t have been more ill-prepared. Inside her, he feels decadent, bordering on overwhelming. Only a moment ago, she’d been fire; now, she’s plummeting. The coolness of his cock charges every nerve within her walls. Her whole being lives between her legs as she waits for him to stoke her fire again.
“Goddamnit, I need a minute,” he grunts, his head resting at her back.
But with every second that passes, his thickness bulges her core as it saps her heat, and Mariam devolves.
Her head lifts, her eyes finding Jooheon and Minhyuk, both of whom are palming themselves through their pants. The implication is exhilarating. They’re going to watch, then they’re going to join. They’re going to use her, and she’s going to thank them for it.
Her skin prickles. Her mouth waters. Her body trembles.
She’s never felt so insatiable in her life. Maybe it’s this place or maybe it’s them or maybe, just maybe, this is just who she’s always been underneath all her polite hiding.
“You’ve got to move,” she urges to Changkyun in a near panic. “I’m going to cum.”
“Just like this?” he asks incredulously as he shoots back up.
“Yes, move, please!”
“Shit.”
Changkyun cinches her waist in his hands as he pulls out and glides back in. It’s so easy. Mariam has never, ever been this wet. Every inch of her is begging for it—for them.
Because of her obscene arousal as well as the freedom her suspension affords, he builds speed quickly. Even more deliciously, as he thrusts, he pulls her deeper onto him. Changkyun possesses her cunt with every single plunge, and that stimulation, coupled with the notion of her body belonging to him, sends her careening over the edge.
“C-cumming!” she squeals pitifully.
Her muscles seize and the ribbons tremble like plucked guitar strings. Changkyun stills within her, and there’s no mistaking the way his cock tumbles in temperature. Mariam had adapted to the enticing tingle of his chill, but the fresh burst of stimulation sharpens her descent.
“Goddamnit,” he hisses again as he rides out her orgasm. “So fucking good.”
She can’t stop shaking though. Wave after wave of cataclysmic release shudders through her, until her toes curl, until her mouth goes bone dry, until her mind empties and leaves her a true puppet dancing to her wielder’s dark designs.
“She just keeps cumming,” remarks Jooheon. “Unbelievable.”
“That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Minhyuk mumbles. He’s stroking the bulbous outline of his cock with a pretty sort of reverence, almost as though he’s completely lost in the showcase of her rapture. “Remind me to rub that in to that braggart, Kihyun.”
Mariam’s head droops and her body slumps in her trappings.
Minhyuk clucks his tongue. “What Is that? Four times now?”
“At least,” Jooheon agrees.
She can only assume they're right. It isn't that she's just lost count, it's that she can barely think at this point. She's been whittled down to a nucleus of pure pleasure-seeking.
She cries lightly. “I didn’t know I could cum this much.”
“And you can cum a lot more than that, too, but you're still new to this,” cautions the ringmaster. “It can get pretty intense, pretty fast, so if it does, you have to let us know, okay?”
“Okay. I’m okay.”
“Good,” says Jooheon. But his voice swings from relieved to ominous as he adds, “Fuck her however you want then, Kyun.”
“Not a fucking problem.”
Changkyun slides right back up to high speed and revels in her fresh slickness. Between their shared panting, filthy fucking, and the blood rushing in Mariam’s ears, it sounds louder than the music that had enticed her here in the first place.
He sighs. “You have the most incredible pussy, Mariam.”
“There he goes,” bemoans Minhyuk. “Drunk again.”
And again, Changkyun ignores his friend—or maybe he’s just lost and, like Mariam, wants to stay that way. The way he’s fucking her now feels like a man on cruise control and bent on enjoying all the scenery. His hands roam her shape, paying extra attention to the apple of her ass or the meat of her thighs, which he’s particularly fond of squeezing. Sometimes, when he fancies a more intimate grind, he leans forward so he can grasp her neck just hard enough to hold her in place while he gives it to her deeper than she’s ever had anyone before.
The chill in her walls has warmed from the fire of her release, so when the blue-haired aerialist fucks her roughly now, even a man with ice in his veins struggles to compete with the building friction. Her body thrums with every quick thrust, and before she even realizes it, Mariam feels fresh desperation in her belly.
“Squeezing me so tight,” murmurs Changkyun. “You want to cum again for me?”
“Y-yes…”
“You do, and I’m going to cum, too,” he warns.
But then, a clap booms ahead of them, and it stills the man in her core.
“I’m tagging in,” says Minhyuk with a slap on his friend’s back before he muscles in behind Mariam.
Still, Changkyun holds firm to her hips as he grumbles, “Excuse me?”
“It’s for our Honey,” the redhead assures, and all eyes turn to the ringmaster, who’s looking back with those juicy lips fixed as steadily as his wicked eyes. “He asked. Me personally? I’d be happy to let you finish inside our girl right now.”
His blue-haired friend scoffs. “Yeah right. You’re not living if you’re not causing trouble, but if Honey’s asking, I can live with it.”
Caught in an endless eddy of bliss, Mariam can barely understand what they’re saying, but it doesn’t really matter anyway. She’s here for them and whatever they need however they need it. Still, it doesn’t stop her from complaining with a wail when Changkyun pulls out of her. She’s shocked to find she’s much, much colder without the air sylph inside her.
“Before you go…” says Minhyuk.
He dangles a pair of freshly forged handcuffs clearly cobbled together from more of the hoop detritus. With their warbled handholds and clumpy connecting chain links, they look more like crude Dark Age manacles than cuffs. It only makes Mariam's heart race faster.
“Cool these off for me, will you?” Minhyuk asks cavalierly to his fellow aerialist.
“Are you kidding me? She's already tied up.”
“Yes, but think of how absolutely helpless our sweet Mariam will look while I fuck her. I promise I'll take them off after I'm done with her.”
Mariam moans, and Minhyuk smirks as he pats her ass appreciatively. “See? It's what she wants.”
“You don't know that. You didn't even ask her!”
“You saw her dream, didn’t you?” the fire sylph reminds, though his tune changes when Jooheon clears his throat. “I guess you're right. Plus, it will be a lot of fun to hear her admit what I already know is true.”
Mariam has had a damn near impossible time wrenching her gaze from Jooheon’s thick frame, especially with his arms stacked in front of that sturdy chest, but when Minhyuk spins her in the silks, she has no choice but to look up at the redhead with big, watery eyes.
“Aw, come on, that’s not fair,” he pouts. “Okay, what do you say, baby? Do you want to be completely at my mercy?”
Her eyes hop from the flames dancing in Minhyuk’s to the impenetrable ice in Changkyun’s. She bites her lip and puts a voice to the dark thoughts swirling in her mind. “Do it, please, Minhyuk! Please. Anything.”
“There, see? All settled,” the fire sylph says triumphantly. He hands the red-hot steel to his friend to cool, and once Changkyun has, the redhead returns his attention to his eager victim. “Tuck your hands in beside you, my sweet.”
It’s a bit of a struggle wheedling her arms in alongside her, but once she does, Minhyuk is quick to position them in the small of her back. There, he cinches her hands into the malformed steel and pinches the openings closed with heated fingertips while Changkyun supervises. The fit is looser than she expected, but constriction comes from the scarves pressing harder than ever against her collar and chest now that her arms can’t dangle.
“If anything gets uncomfortable, think stoplights, okay? Red, yellow, green,” says Minhyuk.
Mariam nods. “Okay. All green.”
“Ah, such a good listener and an even faster learner. Mm, now, let’s see how fast you learn to love my cock.”
Minhyuk glides inside her before she can even finish her breath, which all rushes back out in a scream of relief. The chill at the loss of Changkyun is thwarted the moment his hot cock swells inside her cunt. The air sylph had sported a thickness that had stretched Mariam to her limits, but Minhyuk is just all-around big, and with the addition of the incredible heat that now massages her most secret parts, she loses the access to all other senses.
There is only Minhyuk’s cock. Powerful, penetrating, untamable.
He’s a fire brand inside her, lighting up her darkest recesses. He fucks like he talks, too—relentlessly. Mariam’s mouth hangs open. No words escape, just the tragic, tiny puffs of air he forces out as his cockhead hits places within her too delectable to name.
“Sweet baby with the sweetest pussy. How are we ever going to let you go?”
Don’t! she thinks. Not ever. Never, never, never!
But she can’t speak. It's all she can do just to think.
Firestarter that he is, Minhyuk rubs his cockhead quick and shallow like a striker across flint, and before Mariam even knows it, he has set her ablaze.
The intensity marshalling in her belly is unprecedented. Things are lightening around her. She wishes she could hold on to something just to be sure she isn't floating away, but her hands are still manacled at her back.
“Mariam, are you okay?” asks Jooheon with concern heavy in his voice.
“Gree-ee-een,” she croaks out through the ceaseless pounding. She isn't even sure if she means it, but considering she has no control over any part of herself right now, the automatic answer that comes from the lizard part of her brain must be right.
Forcing out the word opens a Pandora’s box of lewdness, and now the moans flood forth as she’s uncorked. It’s positively pornographic, but there’s absolutely nothing she can do to stop it.
“It’s now, it’s now,” she stammers.
And then she cums catastrophically.
Minhyuk shouts. He plunges his member in to his base to ride out her release. “Shit, you’re squeezing me for dear life, baby. You need my dick so bad you don’t want to let it go?”
“Stay,” gasps Mariam though she can’t even lift her head.
He does. He lingers deep in her core, riding out the tremors of her orgasm as he kneads her hips and ass. He folds over to rest his head on her shoulder as he slips a hand around to the basin of her belly and presses. His voice is criminally close to her ear as he hums. For once, he doesn’t say anything more.
He rocks in her walls again, and it sends them both lurching back and forth , like a couple on a porch swing. It would be far more romantic though if his manhood isn’t penetrating her so thoroughly.
With a contented sigh and a quick kiss to her shoulder blade, Minhyuk stands back up and picks up speed again.
Hair has curtained around Mariam’s face so she can’t see anything that isn’t the crimson ring floor. She wishes she could see Jooheon and Changkyun, but she’s so tired and, more to the point, she’s so helpless.
Minhyuk uses this to his advantage. Instead of thrusting into her, he slides her pussy up and down his shaft.
“This is heaven,” he groans out. “Your body is heaven, sweetheart.”
The best she can offer is a whimper of appreciation.
The metal clanks at her back with every piston, and her cunt sounds obscene. She knows she’s leaking on the floor since she can see the shiny droplets as she swings.
Behind her, Minhyuk is getting unusually loud—even for him. His breath is ragged, and there’s a throaty rumble at the end of every rut. He’s not just fucking her on him anymore but meeting her stride for stride.
Inside her, his cock is so warm. After all the overstimulation, she finds it addictively soothing. Mariam would be happy just to let him fuck her forever if it meant she’d get the deepest tissue massage of her life.
Her voice returns at last just to beckon him.
“Minnie…”
“Oh, fuck!” he snaps before he pulls out at lightning speed.
In his rush, he knocks into her leg and sends her wheeling like a carousel, and she gets the divine image of him ringing the neck of his dick, thumb pressed over the slit as and hunches over and pants.
“Whew!” Minhyuk belts out with a shaky laugh. “Didn’t think I was going to make it there.”
“Cutting it a little close, babe,” Jooheon says with a shake of his head. “You almost broke my heart.”
“I would never,” the fire sylph swears even as he continues to squeeze his member. “But I gotta tell you, your little VIP really is something exquisite. Must stand for Very Important—”
“Stop,” Changkyun barks from the other side of Mariam’s swaying frame. “Don’t say another word, Minhyuk.”
The redhead glowers at him. “When did you get to be such a prude?”
“Forget it,” the air sylph deflects. “Take those ridiculous things off her while you’re at it.”
At last able to control himself, Minhyuk softens the steel enough at the top of the cuffs to pry them open before he gingerly guides them off Mariam’s wrists. She’s only too happy to have her hands back, though she finds it’s not just her wrists that are sore but her shoulders, too.
Jooheon is there in front of her now. He takes one of her hands and manipulates it gently this way and that. The tendons flex exquisitely, and her eyes close as blood flows to her fingertips. He repeats the same thoughtful stretching to her other hand though, this time when he’s done, he threads his fingers through hers and holds her hand.
The ringmaster stoops down enough to snare her gaze. He smiles, and her soul melts like butter. “What’s your color, Mariam?”
“Mm, green,” she answers, vaguely aware of how her voice mirrors the trance she always seems to go into when she’s faced with his full attention.
“Are you sure? This has been pretty intense.”
“I’m sure.”
“Oh hell yes, thank god because I really don’t know what I would do if you’d said otherwise.”
Mariam shares a tired laugh with him and squeezes his fingers between hers. She bites her lip and risks a glance back at his dimpled face. “I really want you, Jooheon. You’ve been my dream since I found you.”
The ringmaster stoops and kisses her so roughly, she gasps, which is all the invitation he needs to flood her mouth with his tongue.
Images dance in her mind, a kaleidoscope of bodies grinding and tongues tasting and breasts bouncing and dimples—flashes and flashes of dimples in every single frame. The soundtrack is just as vulgar and vibrant, with panting and grunting and moaning of a single name.
He pulls back and searches her face frantically.
“Jooheon,” she whispers, an echo of the cries still looping in her head.
“Told you I’d replace your dreams.”
Mariam suckles her own lips, hoping to devour every last remnant of the new fantasies, and all three men grunt.
“Is there no end to your greed, babydoll?” asks Changkyun.
Jooheon shakes his head as though he understands her darkest thoughts, and maybe he does since he’s been in her head already.
Those soft dimples fall away as his eyes narrow. His voice is always commanding, but as the bottom drops out, his power is absolute. “Give her something else to suck on, boys. It’s the grand finale after all.”
The ringmaster takes his position behind her, and though Mariam wishes she had the pleasure of watching him ravish her, she’s happy to get lost in the feeling of his palms skirting up her thighs. His thumbs rub her engorged pussy lips for a moment before one slides to her clit budding between them and rubs it in easy circles.
“Wish I could hold you while I fuck you,” he says, “but it wouldn’t be fair to the guys. Since it’s the finale, we’ve all got to finish, right?”
Jooheon slides a finger inside her, and she cries out.
“Right, Mariam?”
“Right, Jooheon,” she assures.
Now, she feels his mushroomed tip begging for entry at her pulsing hole. She wishes she could see it, every vein and ridge and inch, so she could commit that, too, in vivid details to her dreamscape.
She waits eagerly.
He doesn’t enter.
Instead, he orders softly, “Show me you want it inside you.”
Her options are limited because of the silks, but that doesn’t stop Mariam squirming and wriggling as frantically as she feels inside, and when that isn’t enough, she resorts to the pleading that has gotten her everything else she’s desired.
“Please, Jooheon, please. Take me. Break me. Make me yours.”
His nails bite into the tender skin at her hips.
“What did you say?”
His voice is darker than a shadow in the dead of night. It only makes Mariam that much more impatient.
She feels her walls constricting, begging and beckoning for him to penetrate her. She hopes he can feel it, too, but just in case, she needs him to know exactly how unraveled she’s become. “I need you. I can’t live without your cock, Jooheon, please! Fill me up. I can’t take it.”
“Shit,” he curses. “Okay, baby, you’ve earned it. I’ll give you everything you want and so much more.”
At last, Jooheon delves into her core. Judging from his ever-quick and decisive words, Mariam had figured he’d be in a rush, but he explores her cunt leisurely, and it is devastating. She can feel the very shape of him opening her for him. Even if she hasn’t seen the full glory of his cock, she feels like she can commit it to memory now. Every muscle in her walls clings on for dear life. She swears his thick shaft has touched every nerve in her body, and she croons low and long after he bottoms out.
“Wow, Honey,” murmurs Minhyuk, “you should see how drunk on your cock our pretty baby is. All I can see are the whites of her eyes.”
Changkyun chuckles darkly. “And her mouth’s just hanging open.”
“Well, fill it. What are you waiting for?” says the ringmaster, and no one questions his orders.
Both aerialists step forward, dicks in hand. Changkyun is jerking his steadily, but Minhyuk looks like he’s still trying to hold back his orgasm. As if to confirm this, he guides his blue-haired friend to her lips.
“Hey, man,” grouses Changkyun, but his complaint dies the second her tongue darts out to taste his skin.
“You’re welcome,” Minhyuk returns as he stands aside to watch.
Mariam starts sucking gingerly at first. She’s out of practice. It’s been a while, and it occurs to her that she has no idea what’s she’s doing. She’s only ever had one partner, and everything they’d done together had been completely paint-by-number. She’s had sex and given a few blowjobs, but she’s never done both at the same time, let alone given two blowjobs simultaneously. It’s more than a little daunting, but that only adds to her arousal and her innate desire to please.
It’s almost refreshing sampling him. With as overheated as she is, it’s just like she imagined—like sucking on a popsicle in the dead of summer. Mariam ventures further down on his shaft than she’s probably ever tried before, and even though it tickles at the back of her tongue—just on the verge of a gag—the challenge is intoxicating. She wants to conquer it. She wants to make it down to his polished ice base, so she tries for a little more each pass.
Meanwhile, Jooheon finds a laid-back rhythm in her pussy, yet each thrust splits her open in a whole new way. He’s so good. It’s like he knows exactly how she’s always craved to be fucked—slow and thorough and desired. Each plunge has her yearning for the next. Nothing has ever been sweeter.
Changkyun’s cock pops out of her mouth as she moans, “Jooheon, Jooheon…”
It must be something the ringmaster has been hoping for because he lets out a moan of his own so velvety that it swaddles her heart. There’s something about it that feels special—personal. For Mariam, it goes beyond the pleasure of sex. It’s a sound so delectable that she knows she’ll feast on it forever in her memories.
The ringmaster goes rougher now in her walls to build up unrivaled friction. It’s so all-consuming she forgets her other obligations, but the sylphs sure don’t.
Minhyuk has regained his self-control, and it’s clear he’s getting antsy. Without a second thought, he lifts his friend’s dick back to her lips and shoves her mouth back on Changkyun’s tip.
“Keep sucking,” the redhead orders.
Mariam does.
She’s tired to her soul, and though she is in no way ready to end the best night of her life, Mariam’s finding it harder and harder to mine the stamina to please her lovers. Luckily, every hammer of Jooheon’s hips against hers bobs her head deeper onto Changkyun’s length, and when that’s not enough, that’s where friends are happy to step up to look out for each other.
“Let me help you, you ravenous little kitten,” says Minhyuk as he rocks her head on his friend’s cock.
That feeling of helplessness in the face of their lust makes her want to thank them and cum all at once, but she can do neither yet. As much as they’re giving her, they’re all just shy of gunning for the finish line. It’s for the best anyway. As addicted as Mariam is to the climaxes they’ve been serving her, she’s willing to put off her final one as long as possible.
They can use her forever if they want.
It's a symphony of sin in the room. Between the squelching between her legs, the garbles of her throat, and the barbershop trio of harmonized grunting surrounding her, it feels louder than the organ music that drew her here in the first place.
Jooheon leans forward enough to tug her nipples bouncing beneath her. It’s an unexpected ecstasy that makes her cry out with gratitude, though it’s muffled thanks to the cock in her mouth.
There’s nothing to compare this to. The very limits of Mariam’s body and mind are being tested. It’s everything. She can’t go back. She can never go back.
“My turn,” Minhyuk says abruptly and plucks her from Changkyun’s length with a smack of her lips. He turns her mouth to his straining tip and slides in immediately.
Mariam does her very best to service him the same way she did his friend, but the temperature difference is jarring. Her tongue throbs as it cradles his hot shaft. She purrs around him and sucks more eagerly to thaw her throat.
“Oh shit, shit…” he groans. “So fucking sexy.”
Mariam loves the way the fire sylph sounds. His usually feral personality has been chained by the pleasure her mouth is serving him, and instead of his boisterous taunting, he’s a desperate puppy eager for release from all this torture.
“You see his face, Mariam?” asks Jooheon as he rides her hard, and when he realizes he doesn’t have her full attention, he twists one of her nipples a little rougher until she gasps around his friend’s length. “You’ve got Minhyuk ready to blow. You want that, don’t you?”
She mumbles her eagerness around the cock blazing a path toward her throat.
“You’ve got to take good care of him, baby,” the ringmaster continues. “If you please my boys, you’ll please me. You want to please me, right, Mariam?”
She nods and hums, but she doesn’t answer because she can’t afford to. She continues slurping along Minhyuk’s throbbing shaft, and when she risks a teary glance up at him, she finds his face twisted with pleasure.
His hand knots in her hair, and the throbbing becomes a more urgent pulsing on her tongue.
“I can’t hold it any longer. Aw, baby, I’m gonna cum. Please swallow it.”
The “please” from him sounds so foreign, which makes it all the sweeter, and though Mariam has always been a spitter, she realizes that may be because no one had ever asked her to swallow. It had always felt wrong to even consider it. But now that Minhyuk is begging for it, she’s starved for his cum.
His huge hands fold over each other around the back of her head, and he ruts to the back of her mouth to pour his searing seed down her throat. There’s much more of it than she expected, but somehow, it’s also not enough, and when he tries to pull out, her lips follow, her tongue lapping up every trace of his offering.
“Aw, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hisses as he races to pull her back. “Shit, baby, that’s too hot and I’m too sensitive. Fuck, I wish I could give you more. Kyunnie, feed our girl this time, would you?”
Minhyuk swivels Mariam’s head toward his friend, and she opens at once. Changkyun places his tip on her tongue, and he groans hard enough to shake the earth itself.
“Goddamnit, doll, your mouth is on fire.”
This time, Mariam doesn’t hold back. She’s too famished. She wants Changkyun’s cum, too, and she wants it bad.
Jooheon fucks her rougher now, so she knows he’s pleased with her display. The tension in her belly rises exponentially, and she finds herself smiling even as she devours the air sylph’s cock.
Changkyun’s hand skirts under her chin, his finger questing. “Look at me, babydoll, look at me. I want you to watch me cum.”
Mariam whines and does exactly as she’s asked. Just as she had for Minhyuk, she turns her eyes to the sylph and finds that elegant neck tipped back, his powder blue lips open as a fountain of grunts and groans spill forth. One of his hands slides to his throat and squeezes, and he unloads his icy spend into her belly.
He’s still spurting down her throat when he looks at her, brows knitted and nose scrunched with pleasure, and he makes the sexiest little howl as he empties himself of every last drop. He pulls out with a shiver that makes Minhyuk laugh.
“Never seen an air sylph tremble.”
“I don’t feel the cold unless I leave something so fucking warm,” Changkyun retorts. To Mariam, he says, “Thank you, baby.”
Jooheon grabs a handful of her rear and squeezes to remind her she is his and his alone now, and she collects the last of her energy to look over her shoulder.
There she finds the ringmaster glistening with sweat, all the way down his throat and chest and forearms. It even drips under her chin and onto her ass. She’d taste it if he asked her to.
Her core constricts, and Jooheon hisses.
“Did they taste good, sweetheart?” he asks.
“Yes, Jooheon.”
“You did so good, Mariam, so good. You’re doing even better for me. You’re squeezing me an awful lot, baby. Can’t wait to cum?”
She bites her lip and nods. “Please make me.”
“I will, I promise. We’ll cum together, okay?”
“Jooheon…”
She can’t stop crying his name, and she wonders if she’ll ever be able to call out anything else ever again. Maybe that’s been his plan all along.
Mariam sags in her cocoon of silks as she rides out his energetic fucking. All three men have fit inside her differently, but when Jooheon takes control of her, his power is all-consuming. Each thrust drives the air from her lungs in high-pitched whines. Her hair flies around her face and her tits jiggle beneath her and more arousal trickles down onto Jooheon’s thick thighs.
Minhyuk stands before her, unabashed, his cock as soft as his eyes as he watches her take his friend’s pounding. The fire sylph is glowing, the sparkles in his skin all the more glittery post-release.
“Absolutely fucking stunning,” he observes as her eyes roll back in her head.
Mariam’s body is vibrating. From deep within her, something electric and violent is mounting.
“This is it,” says Jooheon. “Help me out, guys.”
The slyphs tag-team her, so that all three men surround her to hold her in place for the ringmaster to fuck at inhuman speed. Fingers thread together over her clit, hot and cold entwined, rubbing and rubbing and rubbing in perfect harmony while the cock inside her enlarges to unprecedented thickness until she can feel every vein goading the last of her consciousness from her.
The feeling overtaking her is so intense, her first instinct is to run from it. Maybe this is more ecstasy than a person can take. It feels like her muscles are being stretched to their limit, like strings being tuned on a violin until they fray.
She’s thinking yellow now, but she can’t bring herself to say it. She can’t say anything, but he does the talking for them.
“Gonna cum, baby. Cum with me.”
With one more drill of Jooheon’s cock, she explodes.
Mariam feels like a starburst, like a supernova.
A scream is torn from her lungs, and she collapses in her chiffon embrace.
She thinks maybe her soul left her for a moment. Maybe it hasn’t come back either because she feels dead to her bones.
“Still with us?” asks Jooheon as he runs his hand down her spine.
“Yeah.”
“I worried you might have passed out there for a second.”
“Mm, no. I’m here. I could take everyone here if you let me,” she boasts, though half of it is through a vicious yawn.
All three men laugh before Jooheon bends forward to kiss the tip of her nose. “Maybe you could, but what makes you think we’d want to share?”
Mariam’s lids droop as she studies his delicate dimples and chocolate eyes, and she nods in slow motion. “Next time then.”
Jooheon exhales sorrowfully. “If you come back, sure, next time. You can have as much of any and all of us as your voracious little heart desires.”
The trio releases the scarves slowly, and she emerges transformed—though, into what, she is unsure. They ease her down onto the mat, where Mariam curls into a ball, her core dribbling liquid indecency all over the floor. Jooheon covers her with his coat before he joins her to spoon.
Changkyun follows suit and mirrors her, their foreheads touching. Not to be left out, Minhyuk spoons Changkyun, completely unbothered by the fact that they’re both as naked as the day they were born.
Mariam’s not sure how long they lay like this, but she does know it’s not nearly long enough. Jooheon kisses her shoulder, and she knows what he’s going to say before he says it.
“I don’t want to go,” she says drowsily. “I don’t want to leave you.”
The ringmaster rolls her onto her back so he can cradle her cheek in his hand as he peers so deeply into her eyes that she can feel him inside her again. “And we don’t want you to go.”
“Then why are you going to make me?” She’s crying now, but she’s expended every ounce of energy on them, and she has no self-control left.
“If you can find us again, you can stay. It’s the rules of the circus, sweetheart, not our rules.”
Though her exhaustion is relentlessly overtaking her, Mariam finds enough strength to cling to Jooheon’s shirt as she implores, “That doesn’t make any sense. How do I find you? I don’t know how I got here in the first place.”
“I can’t—” He cuts himself off and sighs. His head hangs as his two friends clamp their hands on his shoulders. “I can’t tell you that, but if you do return, just know you’ll never have to leave again.”
Hopelessness surges in her chest as strongly as sleep does. Her eyes are shutting against her will, though they refuse to dam her tears.
Jooheon rubs his thumb along the rainbow of her cheek and adds gently, “If I did it, I know you can. Don’t forget us, Mariam. Don’t give up.”
“Never! Never, never! I won’t stop looking until I find you again.”
Jooheon kisses her slackening lips, but even overwhelmed with exhaustion like she’s never experienced, she finds the strength to taste his mouth one last time.
Mariam’s lost the fight to open her eyes again, but as she sinks down toward unconsciousness, she hears the last of their voices like she’s on a train pulling away from their discussion on the platform, and she’s powerless to stop the momentum.
“I don’t want her to forget us,” whines Minhyuk.
“She doesn’t have to forget, does she?” Changkyun asks.
“That’s not up to us, you know that,” Jooheon reminds. “It’s up to her.”
Minhyuk grumbles. “You humans never want to remember.”
“I remembered.”
“You’re different, Honey.”
“She’s different,” adds Changkyun.
“I know,” says Minhyuk. “That’s why I need her to remember.”
Jooheon’s voice is the last thing she hears as she reaches the bottom of the black abyss.
“Remember us, Mariam. Find us again, and we’ll never let you go…”
---------------
“Mariam! Mariam, open your eyes!”
“Jooheon?” she asks groggily. She rubs her eyes to help them adjust faster to the wan gray of pre-dawn.
The fog has lifted. Carmel is Carmel again, though, for a second, she sees stripes overhead and hopes the big top is just behind her. On second look, however, it’s only the diner’s green-and-white vinyl awning snapping in the early morning freeze.
“Who’s Jooheon?”
After a dozen furious blinks, she recognizes the face looming over her as that of Felix, one of the chefs.
Mariam’s not just confused, she feels hungover—or maybe still wasted—not that she’s ever been either, but that’s the only way to describe this sensation of imbalance. She doesn’t feel right.
“Are you okay?” the cook asks as he studies her beneath his scrunched brow.
“I’m okay, I think.”
“Did you pass out or something? Don't tell me you slept out here.”
“Here?”
Only then does Mariam lift her head and look around. It is still dark out, but Felix has the 6:00 a.m. shift, so it must be closer to 5:00 in the morning. She is on one of the benches in front of the diner. She doesn't remember falling asleep here.
She’s also still in yesterday’s clothes, and her server’s apron rests bunched up at the edge of the bench like a makeshift pillow. She rubs the sleep from her eyes and notices the imprint of the bench slats on her hand.
At last, she stands, and she feels the humiliating squish between her legs. Did she have a wet dream on the sidewalk? Thought is both horrifying and preposterous, but she can't decide which it is more of.
“I guess I did,” Mariam says cautiously.
“You don’t remember?” Felix looks seriously concerned now, and he rests a wrinkled hand on her shoulder. “Maybe I should call someone. Or I could run you down to the hospital?”
“No!” she shouts before she tempers herself. “No, that’s really not necessary. I must have just overdid it on my shift.”
Maybe that’s true. Her limbs have never felt so tired; her heart has never felt so heavy.
“On a Tuesday?” Felix presses.
“I guess I haven’t really been sleeping super great the last week. Must have just caught up to me.”
It sounds logical, Mariam thinks, enough to throw the cook off his line of questioning, but none of this makes any sense. She is sure she was lost in the fog. She is sure she went to a night circus. She is sure she has seen things that have altered the very fabric of her reality. She is sure she has felt things that she may never feel ever again.
At least, she was sure…
But sometimes her dreams cross the line, and it makes it hard to differentiate between the physical world and her subconscious. She knows she’s had one before that had felt so good—so real—she had woken up like this, soaked between the thighs and reluctant to reenter reality, but for some reason, she can’t recall it anymore. All she feels, sees, thinks about is her night circus and the beautiful creatures who inhabit it.
And she hears a name looping in her head in her own desperate voice.
Jooheon!
Her nails bite into her palms just to be sure this is reality, and as they do, she feels another tightness, this one on her finger.
It’s a flower ring—rudimentary, handmade, and utterly beautiful. The steel is lumpy and singed, but the way it wraps around her finger, like a climbing rosebush permanently fastening itself to her, soothes her heart.
“You need me to see you home?” asks Felix. “I’m worried about you, kid.”
Mariam shakes her head. “I’m good, but thank you. I’ll see you tonight before shift change?”
He narrows his eyes but nods all the same. “Yeah. You sure you’re good?”
She cradles her ringed hand to her heart and feels as galvanized as the steel itself.
It was real.
It was all real.
They’re all real, and she will find them again soon, she feels it in her heart.
Mariam casts her eyes to the encroaching dawn as the last tendrils of the night fog fades away, and she answers quietly, “All good. I’m going to find my way home.”
#monsta x smut#le cirque du fantasme#october vibes#jooheon smut#minhyuk smut#changkyun smut#third person#trilogy
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god i love how good a grasp djenkins and the writers and actors and everyone have on the characters. it would have been SO easy to make a stupid "blackbeard is jealous of the gentleman pirate's newfound fame" plotline, but they understand ed and his motivations perfectly. he is genuinely delighted at the little restaurant cafe thing when those people fawn over stede and don't even realize who he is. and for a while he's genuinely happy that stede is getting recognition. the only reason he starts to turn sour on it is when he begins to realize he and stede have conflicting views on staying in piracy; that stede is at the height of his fame and ed still wants retirement, and how is that supposed to work out? he's not jealous, he's scared, because he finally got stede back and they slept together and everything is roses, but there's this big, looming roadblock in their relationship that he can't see around, and that's why he panics and runs. he couldn't care less about his legacy, he just wants to be a "normal guy" and run an inn with his husband on some island away from all his trauma, and he can't do that if stede is the Infamous Gentleman Pirate. it all ties back to their beats from the very beginning
idk man, historical accuracy and like, physics might not be djenkins strong suit, but he more than makes up for it in character continuity. i am feasting and also sobbing
#it's just all so good#blackbonnet#gentlebeard#our flag means death#ofmd#ofmd s2 spoilers#diz says words
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One Villainous Scene - Scared of The Darkness?
I think a lot of Kingdom Hearts fans agree that Ansem, Seeker of Darkness, was a great villain during the earlier days, and is still alright in some capacity. However, I personally disagree with KH1 being his best appearance. Sure he had the voice of Billy Zane and made up for his absence throughout the middle of the game at Hollow Bastion and The End of The World, but if I'm being completely honest, Ansem was better utilized in the Riku section of Chain of Memories. I know this is hearsay, but allow me to explain.
For context, Riku back in KH1 started out as a willing user of the darkness and was later used as a vessel for Ansem to inhabit. So when the idea of Ansem still lingering around in some capacity with the intent on using him enters his mind in the form of DiZ disguising himself as the Seeker of Darkness, let's just say that players can immediately tell that Riku is somewhat frightened of that possibility, even if they never played KH1. So throughout his end of CoM, Riku is trying his damnedest not to rely on the darkness, fearing the worst, and the player can feel this unease and Riku's fear.
Then Riku gets his ass kicked by Lexeaus, and the dark suit from the first game forms around him. Then after slicing through Lexeaus like butter, 'Riku' utters the words "Too Slow," and sounded a LOT like a specific someone for a few moments, and afterwards, we get a perspective from the inside of Riku's heart and it's total darkness. The atmosphere feels claustrophobic despite appeaint so vast, it feels uncomfortable, and to confirm the danger, we hear Ansem speak. Not DiZ in a disguise, I mean the REAL Ansem, and I gotta say, Richard Epcar did a pretty goddamn good job here.
Ansem sounds creepier this time around, he sounds almost predatory, and you legitimately feel scared for Riku once he understands the situation he's in. And to add onto the creepiness factor, we finally see Ansem in the flesh, declaring that Riku's heart will be his, and he immediately, without hesitation, goes directly towards the poor boy with one hand extended, and the visual being showcased is bound to make some people piss themselves. Thank god for Mickey's light remaining in close contact with Riku, because we all know Ansem would've had full control of him if it weren't for that.
So yeah, Ansem in Chain of Memories has more of a presence, a lot more buildup, is a much more personal as an antagonist, and he’s fully intending on possessing Riku again, which scares the ever living shit outta the poor boy, and this fear is brought to its highest this scene for all the right reasons.
#Ansem#ansem seeker of darkness#apprentice xehanort#terra-xehanort#kh#kingdom hearts#one villainous scene#analysis
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If Tsukasa when he was alive was part supernatural (because of the "God"), would he be similar to Akane? Since from what was shown, Akane appears to be part supernatural, half human and half supernatural. Would it be the same case as 13 y/o Tsukasa? (I hope it's not a problem to send a lot of asks-)
Oh, no problem, you can ask as much as you want :3
There is a difference between Akane and Tsukasa, Akane received a position and some supernatural items, and everything is temporary, he will return to being just an ordinary human when he leaves school, he probably won't remember any of this in the future. (hypothesis)
Tsukasa sacrificed himself, that is, he died, he gave himself to that creature and lived with it for six months (considering the time outside the house) we don't know how time works inside the red house, so he could have stayed there much longer .
Tsukasa's case was not temporary, he offered himself as a sacrifice and he couldn't return alone, he went with the creature, he had already become a supernatural. It turns out that in the future he died again.
And he transformed into another supernatural, a ghost, considering that his true side became Hanako's yorishiro.
If that wasn't the case, Tsukasa just went back to the red house with the creature after being stabbed.
This part is actually very intriguing, because after Amane stabs Tsukasa, he kills himself and also transforms into a supernatural.
In other words, thousands of possibilities.
But that's it, Akane is not a supernatural, he says so himself.
Portuguese version || Versão em português
Oh, não tem problema, pode perguntar o quanto quiser :3
Tem uma diferença entre o Akane e o Tsukasa, o Akane recebeu um cargo e alguns itens sobrenaturais, e tudo é temporário, ele vai voltar a ser apenas um humano comum quando sair da escola, provavelmente ele não vai lembrar de nada disso no futuro. (hipótese)
Tsukasa se sacrificou, ou seja, ele morreu, ele se entregou para aquela criatura e viveu com ela durante seis meses (considerando o tempo fora da casa) não sabemos como funciona o tempo dentro da casa vermelha, então ele pode ter ficado lá muito mais.
O caso do Tsukasa não era temporário, ele se ofereceu como sacrifício e ele não pôde voltar sozinho, ele foi com a criatura, ele já tinha se tornado um sobrenatural. Acontece que no futuro ele morreu novamente.
E ele se transformou em outro sobrenatural, um fantasma, considerando que o lado verdadeiro dele tenha se tornado o yorishiro do Hanako.
Se não foi esse o caso, o Tsukasa apenas voltou para a casa vermelha com a criatura após ser esfaqueado.
Na verdade é muito intrigante essa parte, porque depois que o Amane esfaqueia o Tsukasa, ele se mata e também se transforma num sobrenatural.
Ou seja, milhares de possibilidades.
Mas é isso, Akane não é um sobrenatural, ele mesmo diz isso.
#jibaku shounen hanako kun#hanako kun#toilet bound hanako kun#amane yugi#hanakokun#jshk#tbhk#yugi twins#jshk spoilers#aidairo#jshk amane#jshk tsukasa#jshk hanako#tbhk manga#yugi tsukasa#tsukasa yugi#yugi amane#aoi akane#akane aoi
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Dia 028
As coisas andavam calmas, calmas até demais, até mesmo para os padrões de Donnie. Ele apreciava o silencio, apreciava ter seu tempo de solidão, mas sentia falta das quebras daquela monotonia, mas agora que parou para pensar... Não era apenas Leo que invadia sua oficina para infortuna-lo, onde estava Mikey? Até mesmo Raph aparecia ali vez ou outra - com uma frequencia maior nas ultimas semanas - mas tudo estava tão quieto.
Assustadoramente quieto.
Seu corpo inteiro estremeceu com aquela percepção, havia algo errado, talvez há muito tempo e devido ao seu hiperfoco ele não havia se dado conta e talvez, já fosse tarde demais.
- DONNIE! - e ali estava a tempestade. Até mesmo ele conseguiu sentir a dor e o desespero na voz de Leo, algo realmente estava errado.
Seus olhos captaram pelo reflexo no metal de sua luminaria, o movimento em suas costas, dando lhe tempo de desviar para o lado segundos antes da espada passar a milimetros de seu rosto. Sua foice já estava em mãos quando se virava e sentia o impacto em seus braços quando a lamina da espada de Leo se chocou contra o cabo de titanium.
- Você passou dos limites! - o soft sheel estremeceu ao ver a ira nos olhos do irmão.
Seu casco estava contra sua bancada de trabalho e Leo o forçava ainda mais para trás, causando-lhe dor devido ao ferimento ainda não totalmente cicatrizado.
- Nardo... Eu não sei do que você está falando!
Aquelas palavras parecem apenas atiçar o fogo no coração da tartaruga de orelhas vermelhas, dando tempo para Donnie se desvensilhar do irmão o empurrando para longe e ajustando sua postura.
- Não minta para mim! Não se faça de desentendido! - Leo abaixa a espada e anda até seu gemeo lhe agarrando pelo colarinho do jaleco. - Você era o unico que sabia sobre Usagi! O unico que tinha motivos e capacidade para fazer isso com ele! - a ira se transforma em lágrimas que escorrem por suas bochechas. - Só... Me diz que você tem o antidoto!
Antidoto? Antidoto de que?
- Leo... - ele segura a mão do irmão, surpreso ao senti-la tremendo e se esforça para ser sincero em seu contato visual. - Eu... Eu realmente não sei do que você está falando! Eu não sai da oficina desde que consegui me levantar...
- O-O que?
...
Day 028
Things had been quiet, far too quiet, even by Donnie's standards. He appreciated the silence, he appreciated having his time alone, but he missed the breaks from that monotony, but now that he stopped to think... It wasn't just Leo who invaded his workshop to misfortune him, where was Mikey? Even Raph appeared there now and then - more often in the last few weeks - but it was so quiet.
Frighteningly quiet.
His entire body shuddered with that realization, there was something wrong, perhaps a long time ago and due to his hyperfocus he hadn't realized it and maybe it was too late.
- DONNIE! - and there was the storm. Even he could hear the pain and desperation in Leo's voice, something was really wrong.
His eyes caught, by the reflection in the metal of his lamp, the movement on his back, giving him time to dodge to the side seconds before the sword passed within millimeters of his face. His scythe was already in hand when he turned and he felt the impact on his arms as the blade of Leo's sword slammed into the titanium hilt.
- You crossed the line! - the soft shell shuddered to see the anger in his brother's eyes.
His hoof was against his workbench and Leo was forcing him further back, causing him pain from the wound that hadn't fully healed.
- Nardo... I don't know what you're talking about!
Those words only seem to stoke the fire in the red-eared turtle's heart, giving Donnie time to disentangle himself from his brother, pushing him away and adjusting his posture.
- Do not lie to me! Don't be disingenuous! - Leo lowers the sword and walks towards his twin, grabbing him by the collar of his coat. - You were the only one who knew about Usagi! The only one who had the motive and ability to do this to him! - anger turns into tears that run down his cheeks. - Just... Tell me you have the antidote!
Antidote? Antidote to what?
- Leo... - he holds his brother's hand, surprised to feel it shaking and makes an effort to be sincere in his eye contact. - I... I really don't know what you're talking about! I haven't left the workshop since I managed to get up...
- W-what?
BÔNUS
#mikeyscrimesmas#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the tmnt#rottmnt#unpause rottmnt#save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#save rise of the tmnt#save rottmnt#unpause rise of the tmnt#rise donnie#rise donatello#rise leo#rise mikey#rise michelangelo#rottmnt donatelo#rottmnt donatello#rottmnt leo#rottmnt michelangelo#rottmnt mikey#rottmnt fanart
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Blindfolds and Treasured Words (Rikunami Fic)
“It appears we’ve come to a standstill,” DiZ said.
Naminè winced, stared up at the large stasis pod, stopped in its purpose like a flower waiting to bloom suddenly frozen over by an unexpected early-spring frost. She bit her lip in dismay. “Yes.”
“This has gone on long enough.” Every word dripped with condescension—she had failed. She knew that. “Riku—I think you know what needs to be done.”
Riku barely hesitated. “Right.”
DiZ said nothing more. He didn’t need to. Without a backward glance, as if she were merely a feature of the room rather than a person he had been having a conversation with, he left.
Riku gave a barely audible sigh.
Naminè hesitated—despite their working together for nearly a year now, she still found it difficult to initiate conversation with Riku. But it wasn’t in the same way that she found it difficult to talk to DiZ. She certainly found him intimidating—the black coat he was forced to wear certainly didn’t help matters—but not necessarily in a negative way. He was, especially of late, of few words, and thus everything he did choose to say felt important. To Naminè, his every word had weight, and it could be said that she hoarded them like a dragon does its gold. He was the only one she had to talk to, after all.
“You…don’t want to do this,” she finally said.
“I wish I’d never looked at her,” he said softly, bitterly.
Right. Because she looked like her.
She moved a few steps closer, wringing her hands anxiously. “Will you still do it?”
Riku’s mouth tightened. “I have to…don’t I?”
Naminè wasn’t even sure what answer she’d wanted. “I suppose so.”
Riku nodded, then reached back to tighten the knot on his blindfold—a gesture of resolve. She sensed he was about to go, but then, seized with a desperate need to keep talking to someone, anyone, she asked, “Do you…really need to wear that?” Without realizing what she was doing, her hand began to reach towards his face.
He caught her hand a couple inches from his nose, somehow sensing what she was doing. She nearly jumped out of her skin. “I do,” he said, still softly. It took her a moment to realize he didn’t sound angry. “It helps keep the Darkness at bay. There’s no real power in it, but it helps me visualize the Darkness still locked inside me, almost as if I’m seeing inside my own heart. If I take it off, well…the Darkness comes out. And so does Ansem. And…I don’t want you to see me like that.” He paused. “How come you’ve never asked before?”
“I…was too afraid to ask.”
“Because I scare you?” He was still holding her hand. “You’ve seen the Darkness in my heart. You can feel it.”
Naminè stared at him, wide-eyed, completely at a loss as to what to say.
He seemed to take her silence as agreement. He loosened his grip on her hand, turned as if to go. “I don’t blame you.”
Naminè grabbed his hand with both of hers before it could slip away. “No, no, it’s not—it’s just—“ She floundered for words. Riku waited patiently. “I…get nervous. I don’t get to talk to a lot of people. But you don’t scare me.”
He picked up instantly on what she wasn’t saying. “DiZ does.”
Naminè bit her lip, but didn’t reply.
Riku didn’t need to say that DiZ was overly controlling, unnecessarily cruel, out of line. They both knew it, and they both knew that there was nothing they could do about it. Sora had to wake up. He was all the help they had. So instead he gave her hand a comforting squeeze, then let it go.
Something else seemed to occur to him, though. “Tell me, Naminè…why are you doing this? Is it because of him? Or…” He seemed to glance towards the pod where Sora slumbered, though he could not see. “Are you trying to…atone? Like me?”
Naminè sighed. “A bit of both, I guess. I don’t know what DiZ would do if I didn’t play along. But mostly…I’m trying to make up for my mistakes. I haven’t been alive for very long, but in that short time I’ve caused so much trouble—for Sora, for you, for…well, everyone.” She looked back at Sora. “I have to fix everything I’ve broken. Just my existence has caused so many problems.”
“That’s not true.” Naminè turned back to him, surprised, and found that, for the first time since he had started wearing that blindfold, he suddenly seemed to look almost schoolboyish. A slight smile played across his face. “It’s been nice…having you around,” he said, scratching the back of his head.
A strange heat spread over Naminè’s cheeks, though she did not know what it meant. “Because I remind you of her?”
Riku chuckled. “Actually, no. You reminded me of her at first, but really, you’re nothing like Kairi at all. Not in a bad way,” he quickly added. She wasn’t sure if she were imagining it, but he looked a little pinker than usual. “In a good way. You’re…different.” He grew serious again. “I think DiZ is wrong. You, Roxas, Xion—you’ve managed to become your own people on your own. I don’t know how, or why, or what that means—all I know is what I can see.” He suddenly gave an embarrassed half-laugh. “Which admittedly right now isn’t a lot.”
Naminè couldn’t help but laugh at that, despite the fact that her head was spinning. Her own person. Did he really believe that? Could she ever be…?
Riku regarded her with a strange look on his face as she laughed. Then, he took her by the shoulders, saying, “Naminè. Do you still think you don’t have a heart?”
Naminè blinked. “Well, that’s what DiZ says…”
“But what do you think?”
She didn’t know. She didn’t know what she thought. All she knew was white walls in endless rooms, people in black coats, and an aching loneliness she wasn’t sure was real or just a product of having a hollow place where her heart should be. What did she know about hearts, really? No matter how much she might want to know what it was to love or hate to feel sadness or joy or anger, she never could—and whatever she think that she felt sometimes was a mere shadow of the real thing, ripples of energy she pretended were emotions because of how much she wanted to feel them…right?
“I…I don’t know.”
Riku frowned, then switched tacks. “What is it you want most?”
“I don’t—“
“—what is it that you’re drawing all the time?”
Her drawings. The drawings of him, of Sora and Kairi, of Roxas and Xion and Axel, sometimes daring to put herself among them, standing on the islands, holding hands. And smiling. Always smiling.
“I don’t think someone without a heart would want something like that, do you?” he asked gently.
Naminè just stared at him, eyes huge, unable to say a word.
He seemed to understand her silence. “I don’t think any of us really understands what Nobodies are—no matter what DiZ says.”
Naminè smiled. “Maybe not.”
Somehow, in his blindness, he smiled back. Then, letting her go, he turned and began to walk towards the door.
“Why did—why did you ask me all that?” she blurted.
Riku turned back over his shoulder, a somber heaviness coming over him. She instantly regretted her words—he had probably been trying to leave her on a lighter note. “…because when I come back, when I see you again, I might not be the same. I might have to give into Darkness to do this. I don’t want to, but if it’s a choice between giving in to Darkness or losing my best friend forever…” He clenched his fist. “…I know what I’ll choose.”
Naminè looked down, clasping her hands. “And…I’ll have to go back to Kairi in the end.” She looked up, staring into his face, getting the sense that he was staring right back, despite the blindfold. “You know that. You…you might not see me again at all.”
A sad, soft smile broke over his face, and she felt the weight of this moment, her breath hanging in her lungs, suspended, like a pendulum at the height of its swing. There was a promise in his words, the ones that she hoarded so. “Naminè…I’ll always see you.”
Then, he left.
She would never see him with her own eyes again.
“Riku…thank you,” she whispered after him. “For talking to me.”
#I HAVENT WRITTEN FOR SO LONG THIS FELT SO GOOD TO WRITE#have some rikunami!!#salt and light#kingdom hearts#kh 358/2 days#kh riku#kh namine#rikunami#kh fanfiction#kh#kingdom hearts fic#kh roxas#kh xion#kh diz#namiku#riku x namine
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"We can't"
One shot
Pairing: Gansey x fem reader
Genre: fluff and implied smut? mostly making out
Word Count: 1.07k
Summary: Gansey and fem reader are alone at Monmouth and things get heated.
You sit in a stuffy armchair in Monmouth manufacturing doing homework, well trying to do homework. Gansey sat on the floor gluing pieces of cardboard together to make a small model of a building somewhere in Henrietta. It was late, almost two in the morning. Ronan and Adam had been doing something at the barns all day and had decided to stay the night instead of driving all the way back. So, it was just you and Gansey alone in the warehouse. Noah had disappeared at some point a few hours ago.
Finally abandoning the homework that you had been working on for well over an hour that you had somehow made no progress on, you stood up in a huff and went to sit next to him. He looked up at you as you walked over to him. “No luck?” he asked.
“None whatsoever. I'm starting to think you might have been right about public schooling”
“Ha!”
He grinned at you. It wasn't his Richard Campbell Gansey stare, it was the true Gansey smiling at you. It takes you a little by surprise but you smile back at him. You both sit there for a while. You watch as he adds details to the small buildings. You liked watching him work, watching his gentle but efficient hands carefully glue pieces together. As the time passed the two of you had shifted closer together and the place where your thighs touched burned. You couldn't, you wouldn't ever tell Gansey this but you were pretty sure you were in love with him. Whatever ever love was you were knee deep in it. Gansey put down his supplies and stretched his arms out behind him, groaning as he did so. “I really need a better setup for this, at this rate I'm going to have the back of an eighty year old man by the time I'm twenty” He laughed as he said this.
“Finally” you say “your body’s age would match your mental age” It was mostly a joke but there was a truth in it. Gansey somehow seemed ageless and every age simultaneously. You stared at his moonlight face. The slope of his cheekbones, the curve of his lips, the line of his straight nose. You looked away as you caught yourself staring but it was too late, he had caught you. “In this light you look-” he cut himself off “jesus, jesus” He got to his feet quickly and walked toward the huge windows.
You got up to follow him. “What? What’s wrong?”
You ask him. It was a bad idea, you know what it meant, the two of you had been exchanging glances for months and you had been kept up late with thoughts of him for longer than that. Still looking out the window he said “You know we can't'' Even though you already know this it doesn't make it hurt less.
“Maybe we could” you say. You can't but-. Gansey looks at you sharply. You're still looking at him as you reach for one of his hands and take it. He takes a breath and steps closer to you. Your breaths are ragged as you lean your forehead against his. One of his hands brushes your hair away from your face and then slides to cup your cheek. Before you can let your brain stop you, you close the distance between the two of you. The only thing you can think of as your lips touch is finally, finally, finally.
Your hands know what to do without your brain telling them. One slides up to his neck and the other up into his hair. You can feel him smiling against your lips. One of Ganseys hands slides to your waist and pulls you into him. He pulls his face away from your and his lips find your neck. “We can't do this” he says as he kisses the place your pulse thrums on your neck, making you gasp. You struggle to get the words out “We can't” Both of your hands find his soft curls and pull just a little, just enough so that your lips can find his again. This time your tongue finds a gap in his lips and explores his mouth. His tongue is in your mouth too now. The feeling of his lips on yours, your chests pressed together almost makes you dizzy. One of your hands makes its way down to the hem of his shirt. Under the thin cotton his skin is hot and smooth. Your hands slides up the plane of his stomach and to his chest you stop for a second before asking “is this okay?”
His voice is low and ragged “yes”. You slide the t-shirt up over his head and throw it behind him. His chest is all lean muscle and tan skin. “God, I love the rowing team” you say as your eyes hungrily look over every inch of his bare skin. He throws his head back laughing. He pulls you in to kiss him still laughing, making you giggle. “This isn't fair” he says, pulling your shirt off. When it's off you see his adam's apple bob as he gulps. “God you're so beautiful” You pull him back into you. Hot skin against hot skin. You feel his hands on the back of your thighs for a moment before he pulls you up onto him. Your legs automatically wrap around your waist and his hands slide under your butt. You're still kissing as he walks you back to the mattress that you know is somewhere behind you. He lays you gently on the bed, cradling your body. You inhale sharply when your bare back makes contact with the cold sheets. He's hovering above you. You look into his face, his cheeks are flush and his eyes- his eyes are unlike anything you've ever seen. They are oil pools, dark and fierce. You gulp.
“Gansey …” you start to say “You're the most beautiful boy i've ever seen”
His expression is complicated for a moment before he says “I love you” The words have barely left his tongue when you pull his face to yours. Its lips smashed against lips, tongues dragged on cheeks. His lips move down to your jaw, your neck, your chest.
“Say it again”
“I love you” He says “I love you, I love you, I love you” The way he says it sounds like an incantation, holy.
#trc gansey#the raven cycle#writers#trc adam#trc ronan#richard campbell gansey iii#ganseyxfemreader#noah czerny#ronan lynch#gansey fanfiction
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