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tokusmuts · 2 years

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My Holiday (Chapter 4)

Characters: Hidden Male Character x Yume Shinjo

Category: Miniseries

Word count: 1.7k

Read chapter 3 here

I just got out of the bathroom, it was tiring yesterday when I had to work at full capacity from afternoon to night with Yume. But that fatigue is nothing compared to the joy when I can ejaculate into her body, not anyone else. But today she still can't wake up, it's a bit strange but I have to admit that yesterday she also gave me a few rounds in the cowgirl position, and then sucked my dick last to clean it up before she fell asleep because she was tired. She lay on her belly on the bed, completely naked and now only the blanket covered her midsection, but her legs and juicy thighs, which made me bury my face in between them and lick them continuously, along with that is the face where the lips that had taken care of my cock last night were still there. My cock is starting to harden again, even though she's sleeping, I can't control my cravings anymore. I walked over to the bed, slowly lifting the blanket enough for her full butt to be fully exposed, and then my dick just waited there to enter her. After a few nudges, she gradually woke up, her moaning voice was a bit weak, but it brought a different stimulation.

“ah…wait…it’s early in the morning…ah”

"But looking at you, I can't stand it"

The thrusts from me gradually became stronger and her moans became louder

“Ah…Hurry up honey…ah…so happy…ah”

Unexpectedly, even though she was still tired, she could still moan so strongly. I just dumped all my sperm into her butt and laid on top of her contentedly

“Really…ah…you got me active too early in the morning”

“I just pushed your ass.”

“Calm down, honey! You still have a lot to do today.”

I and her kissed again, even without any lipstick, those lips were still so sweet, a gentle "smooch" sound came out, I pulled my dick out of her butt, went to prepare breakfast, the two of us ate while watching last night's Drama episode, which they both missed because we were made love to each other all the last night. The houses around here are quite far from each other, our house is higher than the houses next door, our wall is also soundproof, so she always rests assured to moan as loud as possible. Going back to our breakfast, today's breakfast was also quite simple: an omelet sandwich with a cup of hot milk, mainly for her to recover from last night, also for me to have a good time. I could watch her body without paying attention to what I needed to do to eat breakfast. She just came out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel, which I brought in yesterday but she hasn't used it yet. I was going to pull the towel tie off her waist and eat her as well but she's still at home today so I let her recharge first, the fucking can come later.

Today the two of us decided to go to the home swimming pool to see the city. Both she and I have stable jobs, she is a big movie actress, I am in the real estate business, so I soon built this house - also a place where she and I relieve stress by making love. From here we can see the bustling city outside, but it's far enough for us to have sex comfortably without worrying about paparazzi sneaking. After she finished her breakfast, she took off the towel and showed me a yellow bikini with small sakura prints printed on all sides of the bikini. The bikini she chose was my favorite – the bra has a bow tie in the back and the panty has a bow on the sides, I love that bikini because it only takes me to pull one of the straps out completely. it's all her panties that will fall off on their own and I can enjoy her cunt comfortably, the important thing is the feeling of pulling as well as watching the bow pull off is very satisfying. She stood in the corner of the balcony, looking at me and flashing her big smile, which was what drew me to come and get to know her since Kiramager hadn't even finished filming. Then she turned to look outside again, her hand clinging to the railing, at times like these her small and yet extremely taut body captured all of my attention: Her small waistline with the shoreline. That round butt makes me unable to look anywhere else. The urge to fuck inside of me surged again, but that was when she caught my eye, her fingers once on the railing but now turned towards me with her invitation:

“Come here, honey! You're hungry, aren't you?"

I walked up to her and she jumped on top of me, wrapped her arms around my neck and we both started kissing passionately again, she jumped just enough that my dick in my pants could still rub against her cunt which was still inside her panties, we kissed passionately and then finally I took the initiative to leave her lips to go straight down to her breasts, I kissed her cleavage first and then put my hand behind her back. Pulling off the thin lace of the other bra, the bra hadn't completely fallen to the ground but was still on her belly, I picked it up, inhaling all the scent from her chest without being satisfied.

“Your breasts smell so good! I have to suck it again today!”

That said, I didn't suck it right away but reached down and stroked her cunt from outside her panties, her face starting to change countenance and gradually becoming wilder than ever.

“Ah…Suck on my breast…ah…I want you to suck it…ah”

I couldn't keep her waiting any longer, I sucked on one of her breasts, making her shiver for a moment but then start to go wild again, although her hands were still around my neck she started curving back, helping her breasts to become larger and I could also suck on her breasts more stimulatingly. Enough stroking the outside of her panties, I began to slip my hand inside her pants so that my hand could stroke her cunt directly, which had become so much wetter from my up until now. The area around her pussy is all wet now, wherever my hand moves it gets wet and then stops at the edge of that flesh, my fingers starting to rub gently on the outside of her pussy

My fingers, fully lubricated by the fluid from her cunt, went straight into her cunt as smooth as a sword in the hilt. One finger, then two, three, the more my fingers are inserted into her, the sexier the moan becomes.

“Ah…that's right honey…smash that place….ah”

The sticky sounds as my fingers kept going in and out of her were embarrassing to anyone who heard them, but to me, they were beautiful sounds. Especially when it was accompanied by her lustful moans, which pushed my fingers in and out even faster. While one hand was still working at full capacity inside her, my other hand quickly untied the fastening of her panties one by one, it fell to the ground with small drops of lust falling out. She finally couldn't take it anymore and scream with joy, the lewd water also rushed down. I gently pulled my fingers out, my mouth after filling her breasts, turned to lick them clean, and then brought my face down to her pussy and licked all the taste of her love.

“Let me…ah… lie down somewhere...”

I laid her down on the wooden floor, and then I buried my face in her cunt and sucked again. She was tired now but still strong enough to clamp my head in her lap while her hands pressed my head closer to her cunt.

“Ah…Kimochi…more honey…ah”

The lustful waters still flowed non-stop, the wonderful taste of love made me want to suck her cunt more. But my dick really couldn't take it anymore, so after licking her cunt, I moved straight up to her face and put my dick in her mouth, which she co-operated with enthusiastically. smooth with every push from me, there are times when my cock is quite deep inside her mouth but she is still very active, sperm just keeps popping out in her mouth makes me start There are signs of fatigue after I have discharged enough 1 turn into her mouth, I also lie next to her on the wooden floor.

She also recovered some strength after lying down long enough, so she took the initiative for me in the game, she sat on top of me, pushed my dick straight into her cunt, and began to dance skillfully, she Fuck me like a cowgirl masterfully as she always does and then helps me discharge another round of sperm. Then it was my turn to drag her into the pool and start sucking on her breasts while letting my dick push hard on her crotch.

“Ah…so good…ah…feed on both sides”

“Okay”

I suckled her left breast and then her right breast while the crotch still showed no sign of wanting to stop. After I poured my sperm into her cunt, I turned her over again, let her rest her hand on the edge of the pool, and continued to fuck her from behind, both now drenched after entering the pool but the speed of each of the thrust seemed to increase more, those wet sounds as they descended into the water becoming even wetter. I just fucked her but don't forget to take good care of her breasts, I drained the last batch of sperm and hugged her, and soaked in the warm water mixed with the lustful waters coming from both of us.

"I said I went to see the city, but neither you nor I could see anything!"

"Of course! Seeing you and fucking you is enough for me!"

"Looking at you so tired, I wonder if you can still fuck me?"

"Yes of course! As long as you invite me, I'm always ready!"

"So what about the coming days?"

"You're still at home, so I won't let you rest"

"Let's see"

Read chapter 5 here

#yume shinjo #新條由芽 #toku smuts

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finkhorowitz60 · 1 month

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32 Health And Wellness Enterprise Concepts For 2024

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In 2023, we’ll be seeing brands and customers ground wellness into on a daily basis practice with a heavy concentrate on authenticity and functionality.

#organic wellness products #sustainable wellness products #natural wellness products #health & wellbeing products #well being products #health and well being products

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aspiringroses · 5 months

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I’m preparing for the first time in my life to set proper New Year’s resolutions. I know there’s a pessimistic view on them and that people fail but my goals are literally about taking care of myself and becoming the woman I wish I was. I work hard in school and at my job but I’ve severely failed at also taking care of myself. My goals are :

- start to properly take care of my hair.

I don’t go to the hair dresser as often as I should (one a year lol), I’ve split ends and my busy stressful schedule often leads my hair to look tired and I get hair loss. It has lead me to feel really insecure about my appearance. I want to figure out what my hair type actually is and what makes it feel and look good.

- fix my gut health

Hot girls have tummy issues after all but damn I’m tired of it. I feel bloated way too often, I feel heavy or I feel drained. The immune system is in the gut and I know it drains on my general health and energy to walk around constantly slightly in pain. I also have a terrible relationship to food where it goes up and down and I’ll have weeks where everything tastes disgusting and I don’t get all the nutrition I need.

- set skin care routine

I do take quite well care of my skin (on my face), but it’s far too irregular of a routine. I feel good when my skin looks and feels nice and I find it calming to take that moment for myself but I do tend to prioritize other things above it far too often. Next year I want to have a proper schedule set for it where I take care of myself on certain days no matter what. I also need to find a proper body lotion and scent that fits me. I want to take some better care of the skin on the rest of my body.

- get a style

I know I dress somewhat nice and it’s not uncommon for me to get compliments on my dressing style but it’s not on the level I wish it was. My wardrobe is kind of a mess and I’ve never really taken the time to figure out my style and what I actually like. I rarely buy myself new clothes (or things overall) and sometimes I feel like I don’t even know who I am when I see myself in the mirror before work. It’s very much a second thought in the mornings and I don’t want that anymore.

- get back into reading and having hobbies

My life revolves around school and work. I have hobbies and I game a lot but it’s not like it was when I was younger. I’m a curious person by nature and I feel a slight mental decline in not taking time to also stimulate my interests, learning something new for the fun of it and learn in some new skills. I feel I’ve become more shy and afraid of trying new things. I also feel often restless when I have time off for myself because I don’t know what I want to do.

- put more effort into my relationships

I love being alone and I’m an introvert by nature so after long days at work and late nights with school I often lack the energy to put down towards other people. I believe in time for myself but I also need a balance of getting back into actually communicating and hanging out with friends, also spending more romantic and fun time with my partner.

- keep it clean!

I’m far too messy for my own good. Sure I don’t live in complete filth but I notice how often I get annoyed at myself for not picking things up or doing laundry earlier etc. in 2024 I don’t want to have these overwhelming moments of “oh wow it’s gotten dirty!”, I want to put a bit of effort every day to keep it somewhat tidy.

- work out.

I give up and I give in. I need to work out. I’m still in my early twenties and my back, knees and shoulders hurt often. I’m not overweight neither do I have any illness or health issue that creates this, I’m literally just a goblin that forgets to sit and stand properly plus the amount of time I spend sitting down by a computer both for work, school and free time is … shameful.

- journal and emotional control

I need to sort my thoughts better, get a firmer grip on my feelings and stop neglecting when my body and mind tells me we are feeling bad. I’ve a tendency to push past every feeling and exhausting myself or losing focus on what it was that I felt. I want to journal more and maybe try mediation again.

I want to do all this and I know to most people who know me.. it’s ridiculous. I’m far from the girl that gets up at five in the morning to drink a green tea and do some stretches before work. But I want to be and I won’t just wake up one day and be that. I’ll still have my lazy days and bad days and so on, but god lord knows I’ve a tendency to wish for health and happiness and stability and routine… while doing nothing to get it. Even if I’m reaching for the starts with these goals…I might not make all of them or do it perfectly but then I’ll at least end up by the clouds and that’s further up than where I started. Wish me luck on this journey ✨

#dream girl #aspirations #clean girl #dream woman #happy girl #it girl #manifesting #preparing

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loneamaryllis · 2 years

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Enlightened bonus

Another scene from DeVoe's POV that didn't make it into the fic. It's set right after his victory at the center of the Speed Force, but I wrote it very early, I think even before I had reached Thawne's Reverse Flash Point.

I wanted to get a feel of DeVoe's motives and state of mind once he had won. You'll notice a few key differences from how it ended up happening in the fic.

Warning for smut (and it's DeVoe, so consent is optional).

She was giving him trouble again.

He had expected that this part would be hard, but his predictions had her giving in to her rage and fighting with teeth and claws, unleashing her wild side like she did so often when he pushed her too far.

He hadn't expected this. A complete retreat into herself, total indifference towards him, not even caring to fulfill the base needs necessary for her continued survival. Refusing to eat, refusing to drink, and his threats against her dog hadn't produced any results, nor had its agonized cries when he had tortured the beast.

He could have ordered her to do what he wanted, imposed his will upon hers, and while it might be a temporary solution, it wasn't satisfactory. He needed her to be functional again. To fight back a minimum, to talk back, to talk to him at all. To be there.

Entering his bedroom, he found her just as he had left her this morning, prone on the bed, her face turned away from him, her hands loosely grasping her chains. He flicked on the lights since she wouldn't be able to tell, let his eyes wander over her. Her t-shirt had ridden up, exposing the small of her back, and her shorts hugged her shapely ass. He felt his cock swell in his pants, wasn't surprised to find himself achingly hard in a matter of seconds. He had already masturbated since gaining his new powers, and well, speedsters could do everything fast. No that he planned to go fast with her.

He had wanted to give her time before having her again, but looking at her now, he wanted her, period, and he was done waiting. She didn't move when he joined her on the bed, didn't gave any indication that she was aware of his presence. She was, though. She wasn't sleeping.

He didn't speak, didn't give her any orders. He simply pulled down her shorts and her panties, coated his fingers with saliva, and began stimulating her. He had her wet within minutes, though she gave no outward indications of her body's reluctant arousal. Her breathing remained even and calm, and she kept her muscles lax. No matter. This was more for him than her.

He gripped the base of his cock, parted her thighs a bit more, ran his cockhead along her slit so it would be well lubricated, and eased into her in one smooth glide. Her wet heat wrapped around him, and he groaned at the exquisite sensation. She was so tight, squeezing him like a fist. He could have come just from this, being inside her.

Bracing one hand at the small of her back, he pumped slowly within her slick channel, watching his cock part her folds, her juices making his length glisten. It was pleasurable for her, too, even if she wasn't showing it. He picked up his pace, despite his desire to make this last. It felt too damn good, and the need to come was rising, the pressure mounting at the base of his spine.

He went deep inside her, his cockhead kissing the end of her cunt on each thrust, drew back entirely to impale her again, over and over. There was still no reaction from her. He would get one, eventually. He would reach her, and she would fight again. For now, taking his pleasure from her would do. Or maybe a tad more than that.

He slid his fingers down her slit, found her clitoris, drew little circles on it, applying firm pressure. Her breath hitched, her thighs trembled, and a few seconds later, she was coming all around him. The violent spasms of her cunt were heaven. He couldn't stop himself from coming, flooding her with his seed, a low snarl of pleasure on his lips. Damn. She really was perfect, his little beast. Now if she could show her feral side again, find it in herself to resist him, they'd be all set.

When he pulled out, his come leaked out of her, the sight unexpectedly arousing. It occurred to him that gaining her lightning and becoming a speedster must have healed the vasectomy he had inflicted on his body previously. He wasn't shooting blanks anymore. There was a risk of pregnancy. Very low, given her diagnosis and the fact that fooling around with Thawne had never resulted in anything. He had analyzed the sperm count of the feral speedster, to be sure. It had been completely normal, so the problem lay with Miss Allen.

Still, perhaps something would come of it. The thought wasn't as repulsive as it once had been. At the very least, it would give her something to focus on. He doubted she'd stayed as detached and unresponsive if she carried life within her. And then she'd love that baby, no matter how much she hated his father.

Yes, perhaps. He was smiling as he cleaned her up. The future was bright.

#enlightened tag #bonus #smut

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under-and-over-the-moon · 2 years

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Witness | Chan

Minors DNI/DNF/Do not read!!

pairing: Chan x Reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff, historical!au, medieval consummation witness!au

word count: 5.4k

warnings: voyeurism/exhibitionism, unprotected sex, masturbation (m), manual stimulation (f recv.), there is consent given for everything but some of the sex is just kind of bad, historical inaccuracies, historical misogyny, mentions of death and war, general medieval grimness, mentions of cold stone walls, this is definitely kind of unhinged

A/N: (Reposting for a third(!!!!) time because this disappeared again from all tag searches even though it’s not flagged) I have been on the lookout for a medieval consummation witness fic but have yet to come across one, so I decided to write one. Thank you to @hynjnhwng for hyping up my feral thoughts and inspiring me to attempt to write a fic out of them, sorry again for betraying you by making this a Chan fic 😅. Also to @fizzydrink698 for mentioning consummation witnesses in consort, which is what put the concept in my brain in the first place.

All characters are adults at all times in this fic.

~~~

Chan’s heart pounds against his chest. It’s painful. But he’s excited.

Taking one last deep breath, his hands push again the heavy wooden door, the hinges creaking as they grant him entry. A crowd has already gathered, as expected, and their eyes snap to him, expressions like needles formed into a silent reprimand. He knows he’s late, but – he had needed an extra moment to calm the tortured panic slipping down his throat and the needy, shameful anticipation rising from between his legs. The feelings meet in his stomach in a nauseated, nervous swirl. As he weaves between the members of court, his footsteps echoing loudly against the stone, he keeps his eyes fixed forward in a feeble attempt to keep himself steady. For as long as possible, he puts off turning towards the main event.

But as he reaches his spot in the back of the crowd, befitting his status, he finally, reluctantly, turns to see –

You. Sitting in bed, the sheets pulled up to your shoulders, a weak final effort at modesty. Your eyes are fixed to the door, apprehensive. You wait. The room waits.

Now shackled to emptied time, torturously distant from any distraction, Chan’s mind is filled only with past moments of you. He thinks of the first time he saw you – you were collecting daisies in the garden, bent over your basket as you smiled at him over your shoulder before looking bashfully away. And then the second – you, gazing out the window, briefly distracted from your needlework.

From the beginning, you were always just a little too far away to truly touch. Not just in the physical sense – he knew he would never be able to actually touch you. No, even your life was too distant for him to know, your spheres never truly overlapping. But, of course, that made sense – he was the minor distant cousin of a major prince, only in the southern kingdoms for a summer to learn high culture, to cultivate the manners that his kingdom to the north would never provide.

Even without being told, he had been able to guess early to whom you were betrothed – you were effortlessly refined, elegant, never ruffled. You would be a perfect Queen. And he was sure – a perfect wife.

So he had decided that he would have to be content with watching you from afar, collecting little moments he buried deep into the softest parts of him. The way you crinkled your nose when you were feeling mischievous and thought no one of import was watching. How you always had to smell the pink roses whenever you passed them, had to caress their thorns despite the risk of pain. How you would gasp, jumping back, whenever you were pricked. How you rolled the fabric of your skirt between your fingers when you were nervous.

You roll the sheets between your fingers now as you gaze towards the door, pausing only when it creaks again. The prince finally steps in, giving a courteous nod to the crowd, a head taller than most of the other men in the room. He appears unruffled, almost bored by the ceremony ahead, until Chan sees him lift his eyes to you, taking you in. The corner of the prince’s lip rises with satisfaction – you are his.

You shift against the pillows, inclining your head slightly towards your new husband. Granting him permission to proceed.

The prince strolls over, standing at the side of the bed, towering over you. He throws the covers off you without hesitation, leaving you exposed, shivering with nerves and cold as he takes you in. His eyes roam the length of your body, pausing only slightly at your hips, your breasts, the way your neckline has begun to come undone.

This is when Chan sees, for the first time, a crack. Your eyes dart across the crowd, wide as they take in the people leering. You are on display, because the prince wants you that way. To show the room what only he can have, before actually taking it.

After a few long seconds, the prince finally descends on you, his legs and arms caging you in as he presses his lips to yours.

Your first kiss is hurried and quickly broken. The prince pulls himself to kneeling, fumbling with the top of his pants, clumsy in his haste. When he finally springs free, Chan can see how desperate he must be, red and leaking. Eager to feel you around him.

Your eyes widen as his cock comes into view, the fear pouring into your features before you instantly snatch it back. You’re an expert at maintaining composure and yet - Chan sees the slow, deep breath you take as the prince pushes your nightdress up to your waist, positioning himself at your opening. He sees the way you look out at the crowd in brief but undisguised apprehension, before you squeeze your eyes closed, turning the room to blackness.

The prince pushes forward, entering you, and you squeeze your eyes tighter, your breath wrapped in a single sharp inhale. From his observations of you Chan knows instantly – you’re fighting pain.

Chan isn’t prepared for the feeling that suddenly bubbles up, pulling at his eyes, clenching his hands into fists. A mix of anger and desperate sadness and the utter frustration of his own uselessness.

He can only watch.

Watch you in pain. Watch you as you squeeze your eyes closed, willing the room away. Watch as another man fucks you. Watch as he himself grows hard, leaking, his body preparing itself for something it could never have.

Just watching.

The prince continues thrusting into you, each time punctuated by a grunt, and somewhere along the line your grimace softens into something else. Chan assumes it’s resignation, or perhaps tepid acceptance, but then he notices how bite at your lip, the quietest of gasps leaking out and he realizes – it’s pleasure. The pain has flipped, and Chan’s mind with it.

It was one thing to view glimpses of your form. But to see you now, riding through the joy that only your body could provide for you, drawn out by your new husband – it was intimate. Chan could feel the energy of the room shift, the bored discomfort turned into a burning one. People around him shift on their feet, attempting to subtly calm the ache. But Chan knows.

He is now rock hard, aching to pull himself from his pants, to palm himself to release. He only gets harder at the thought of you watching him like he’s watching you, having you see what you do to him, of everyone seeing. He watches as you writhe, fighting to stay silent and composed in this public place. He fights too – holding back his own gasp every time his sensitive head brushes against trousers, leaking so much he worries it will soak through the cloth.

And then, without warning, the prince gives a long, low grunt, collapsing onto your chest before rolling off, leaving you again exposed. The castle doctors descend on the bed like vultures, shifting your body to scavenge for their prize – the bottom sheet, tinted pink.

A success.

But Chan can only see how you lie half-covered, your arm blocking your eyes. And the hanging strings of your pleasure, never tied off.

~~~

Chan runs back to his chambers, close to bursting.

He can’t open the door fast enough, the desperation in his body crowding out any thoughts, the need to touch, to release, rendering him blind and dumb. Nothing can truly relieve the ache but still – he wraps his hand around himself and tugs, without even needing to wet his hand, the dripping precum slipping easily over the shaft.

And then, in the silence, against the sound of the wet slide of his hand, all the emotions hit at once.

He is angry at the prince, at his own body, the whole court. He is mourning what he never had and even though he never truly knew you, he misses you already. And he is dizzy, all the blood rushing away from his brain.

The result is that he finds himself slumped against his door, tears streaming down, his cock leaking even more as your gasp replays in his head, again and again. The fluids mix in a sticky mess and he’s never felt more dirty, less in-control. But he can’t stop, doesn’t stop until finally his seed paints his hands, his stomach, the floor.

He looks down at his hands in disgust, feeling even more pathetic as he holds his wasted release. He thinks of prince’s still inside you, maybe painting your future into your own body, while his is just unused, unwanted, only making his hands sticky. The contrast makes him feel worthless, tiny, sick of himself.

He presses his fists into his eyes, creating his own darkness.

~~~

The moments you offer him are fewer following your marriage. He glimpses you from across the banquet hall at dinner, smiling towards your new husband. Down the hall, disappearing into your bridal chamber. Even more distant than before.

But then he notices – you start resting your hand on your stomach. You are always smiling. Chan hears no news or confirmation with it being so early but still – he knows. He hates it, and he hates that his hatred eclipses your joy in his mind.

Mercifully, perhaps, the summer rolls into fall and the crispness in the air calls him home. With his heart still bruised and his stomach still churning, he drags himself away, a part of him always gazing back. He wonders what little moment you are inhabiting that passes without note, without him to capture it and give it a proper weight in order to tether it to permanency. Who will do that important work if not him?

As he travels north, the daisies and sprawling meadows wilt into stone and sharp cliffs, the joyful sunlight fading. The mists condense over the land in clouds that never disperse, thick like layers of snow over the icy earth. There is nothing here that reminds him of you, yet still he misses you.

But years pass and the harshness of the north grows around him like ivy, choking the softness of youth from him, nestling itself in him so slowly that he doesn’t feel any change. Instead he sees it in the way people look start to look at him, always quickly, as if his gaze is poisonous in too high a dose. Eyes wide when caught, and then down to the floor.

He remembers the manners of the south, but now they are just the flourish to an iron core that has been sculpted by icy winds and long winters. The softness of southern indulgence is replaced by hardened muscles and sinewy limbs, and a practicality and directness made necessary when the generations above him crumble. Suddenly he is at the pinnacle of everything, looking down at his people, and they are on their knees for him.

The wave of time rolls, bringing dynasties down in war and famine and plague as it pulls others up with the tide. Territory and fortune redistribute with ripples of luck, power, god-given skill. And so, sword in hand, he finds himself riding a crest.

~~~

When he returns home from battle, his advisors ask him again if he will marry. He needs to ensure his succession, for his people, they remind him.

He says no, not now. Someday, not now.

He pushes it again and again into an unknown future, and he himself does not even know why. It certainly isn’t because of you – he’s too old, too smart, for that.

Without his constant tending, the moments he had collected from you grow lighter, some even floating away. Weighed down by this responsibility, he no longer has the luxury of focusing on them, imbuing them with new heaviness. But he still thinks sometimes of the young man he once was, pining after a women he barely knew and could never have. Weak, clinging desperately to the flower petals she scattered in her wake. Morsels on which he built fantasy, maybe even pieced together a juvenile facsimile of love.

He likes to think of that man as a then, in contrast to his distinct now. Two unconnected phases. A clean evolution.

But sometimes, still, he hears your gasps in the winds, and feels himself harden.

~~~

And then one day his squire appears to bring the news – the southern kingdoms have fallen. The southern prince – now king – is dead.

The squire delivers the news with a flat expression, quickly, with no emphasis. War and death are commonplace, and his kingdom’s ties to the south were frail at best, more of family than function. It’s just a prelude to the meat of the information that directly affects him, an aside, but Chan stops listening to the rest.

His heart tosses in the acid of his stomach. His mind is busy piecing together your past moments, repurposing them into a mosaic that forms your last hours. Did you squeeze your eyes together then too, to block out the world? Did you roll the fabric of your dress between your fingers as you said your final prayers?

He lets the squire finish, the words only sounds, and then retires early with a curt nod.

~~~

A few months later, the initial sting now just a dull throb he tells himself is just exhaustion, the squire reappears in Chan’s chambers, eyes wide.

Come quick, he says, there is someone here for you.

Chan follows, not thinking. Someone is always looking for him, needing him to do something, to fix something. This is routine.

And then he turns to see –

You.

He knows instantly, even though you have changed too. There are dark circles under your eyes, a gauntness in your face. He can see the hunger in you, the toll the journey has taken on your body.

He can also see the beginning of fine lines on your skin, but they are subtle, as if drawn halfheartedly, no pressure or intent in the strokes. Time too, it seems, can’t quite touch you.

You look at him like everyone else does – afraid – and Chan can’t stand it. But there’s also something else beneath it, a glint of recognition, of hope. You are looking for someone you once knew.

Then you begin to explain. It’s the most he has ever heard from you.

You have been traveling for months, covertly, fleeing from cave to cave until you were sufficiently far from your burning home, until no one knew your name. You are looking for a place of refuge, somewhere to spend the remainder of your days. You can offer nothing – you have lost everything.

He remembers your hand on your stomach. He knows the weight of your everything.

He also knows the value of your nothing.

~~~

There’s silence. You wait, a terrified edge to your exhaustion. The seconds stretch. You search Chan’s expression, trying to find answers.

The man before you is familiar, but you don’t fully recognize him, so you don’t know what to expect. You had seen him around the castle so many summers ago when your future had been set out in front of you like stepping stones in a river, each day rolling smoothly into the next. He was quiet, mostly to himself – you couldn’t recall if you ever actually spoke – but there was a kindness and tenderness to his youth then that was genuine and warm. You had seen the way his eyes followed you sometimes, sweet, a little doting. A fondness for you, maybe, that you hoped he still holds a piece of.

You see little of that now. Instead you see the way people move instinctively to grant him space as he steps forward, the way they bow their heads as he passes. His shoulders have grown broad and strong, the youthful edges of his face sharpened. Expression taut, unreadable.

You can have refuge here, he says finally.

Escort her to her chambers, he comments to his servant.

~~~

The room you are brought to is minimal but comfortable. There’s an unlit fireplace at the far wall, painted with soot. A canopy bed. You sit on its edge, finally letting your muscles relax.

You had swiftly decided to travel north after you had somehow escaped during the fall of your kingdom, knowing you’d be safest where the climate was harshest, the roads most remote. You had also heard stories of the north’s strength, its rise to prominence. It was a logistically sound decision, one that would give you the greatest chance at survival.

But now that you are safe, you don’t feel the relief or happiness you expected. You instead find yourself in an empty present, with nothing to look forward to, carrying nothing precious from your past. Danger had gifted you with direction – to seek survival. Without that base need, you want nothing, hope for nothing. Only to close your eyes, pretend your world is just out of view, not gone.

There’s a rap on your door and you rise to standing, stepping forward to pull at the door’s handle. Chan stands outside, hands clasped.

“May I enter?” he asks.

“Of course,” you say.

He steps in, draws a breath from the cold air, made almost icy by the frigid stone. You aren’t used to the way everything is chilled here – even the blankets, the furs, can’t hold the heat.

“Thank you, my lord, for your kindness, I truly will never – “

He puts his hand up, stopping you.

“I’m not here for praise,” he explains.

He pauses for one long moment, his eyes darting between yours. Searching.

“I’m here to offer matrimony, if you wish it. If you’ll have me.”

Your mind swirls, confused. A man like him would surely want an untouched bride? He himself can verify that you’re not that. Or at least one that can offer a strategic alliance, riches, titles, land, something?

But as you see the void of your future start to ripple, for the first time in months trying to form itself into more than just remaining alive, you don’t question it further. Besides, you have nothing left to lose.

So you accept.

~~~

The room is filled with whispers, wafting up from the crescent of people in front of you.

The wedding itself had been simple, held in one of the great halls overlooking the snowy valley below, from which the steam of hot springs rose to mix with the permanent blanket of clouds. Afterwards, you had been brought to your separate chambers to prepare for the task ahead.

Chan had explained to you on the night that you had accepted his proposal that the north held the same marital traditions as the south, and he didn’t need to explain further what that meant – you had simply nodded, ensuring him that you understood.

And so you found yourself here, a captive to the inevitability of a display which you never wished to show again and to the words that swirled around your head, biting at you.

Defiled.

Secondhand.

Used.

Titleless.

Destitute.

Widowed.

All pointing to the shared question of:

Why?

You had expected it. You are, after all, objectively not pure enough, good enough, or valuable enough for their king. You are no more than an accumulation of recollections that don’t reach your present, the moments now more fable than fact.

But still, you remember when people looked at you differently. Like you were full of potential, of hope, the glittering golden bride of an ascending king, and then the mother of the kingdom’s future. So their words sting, the change stings, reminding you how your whole life had been building into a story that had been discontinued, snapped off. Coming to nothing.

But all grows quiet as the door creaks open and Chan steps in. He pauses for a moment, his eyes glued to yours, before his gaze drops to your hands, watching where they grip at the sheets on your lap, your thumbs moving over the fabric. He takes one long, slow breath.

Then, seemingly ignoring the crowd, he moves swiftly to the side of the bed, dropping to his knees. Kneeling before you.

You can feel the crowd shift with a new restlessness. They don’t understand.

Chan gazes up and reaches out, his palms upturned. There is something pleading in his expression, and you realize with a start - he is asking for your hands. You give them to him, and watch with confusion as gently flips them over, his thumbs tracing gently across the flesh. You can feel the callouses on his fingertips, but his touch is softer than you expect. It’s thoughtful, measured. Tender.

And then he leans in, kissing along your lifelines, their whole length. Your skin tingles where his lips touch. He looks up, a question in his eyes.

You nod.

Only then does he move to join you in the bed, his hand supporting you as he gently lays you back. You readjust, parting your legs to allow his to settle between them. You can feel where he brushes against your sensitive inner thighs, the touch too light.

And then you watch as he reaches back, pulling the sheets up the wide expanse of his back, his body and the fabric forming a tent over you, shielding your body.

As he settles above you, your eyes flick over his shoulder to the crowd, and your stomach tightens. You can hear their thoughts, their eyes weapons, searching for more evidence of your insufficiencies. Leering, waiting for a show, if you could at least properly serve your king.

And then you feel fingers cup the edge of your jaw, gently moving your face away from the crowd, back to Chan. His eyes are soft, genuine as he whispers, “Just focus on me.”

And so you try to, closing your eyes as he kisses you for the first time. His lips are plusher than you imagine, and at first there’s no tongue, just a gentle press of his mouth against yours. He’s giving you time to adjust to his touch, to decide how much you will let him in, if at all, past what is strictly necessary. You part your lips for him, and his kiss becomes more ardent, his tongue tasting you. His right hand moves from next to your head to caress your waist, then to your hip, to your pelvis, downward.

You know what comes next. You squeeze your eyes, preparing yourself for the foreign sensation of him probing at your most intimate place, hard and demanding entrance.

But that’s not what you feel.

Instead you feel two fingers softly land on your sensitive bud, and then begin to move in slow, gentle circles.

You open your eyes to see Chan gazing down at you. His eyes bounce between yours, searching your expression.

But you yourself aren’t even sure how to feel. You had touched yourself like this before, in quiet moments when you knew you wouldn’t be interrupted, desperate enough to rub through the shame. But your husband never had, so this feeling – of a hand that is not yours, gently caressing where you’re most sensitive – it feels so good, too good. The pleasure feels wrong, sinful, unearned.

And then it turns into a pressure that strains against your throat, threatening to break into a cry, and it hurts to hold it back. You try to pull the sound back in one sharp intake of breathe.

“Too much?” he asks, eyebrows knit together as his fingers play with you, “I just…If I don’t, I’ll hurt you.”

For a moment you’re a little stunned. Kings don’t think like this, and you aren’t quite sure who you are looking at, who you’ve married. You still see the seriousness in him that you saw when you first arrived, but you can’t quite reconcile that person with this one.

“No, it’s – “ you start, before being interrupted by a wave of pleasure, forcing you to bite at your lip to keep quiet. Watching you, he understands.

His eyes are soft, tender, and he whispers to you, “It’s okay, you can let it out.”

But your eyes flick over his shoulder to the group behind you, their eyes searing into you. You bite your lip with worry – this is an act that should be done with dignity, quietly. Here, pleasure can only lead to shame. You flinch at the thought of how people would look at you if you were to cry out, wanton.

Chan’s expression darkens as he watches your face and his eyes follow yours, to the crowd. His hand stops for a moment, resting instead on your inner thigh. He pauses to consider before he shifts forward to place his arm next to your head, leaning to block your view of the corner of the room where the witnesses stand.

“Now it’s just me, yeah?” he whispers, sincere, “Be as loud as you want.”

But you just pause, staring up at his face, lost, trying to remember what wanting feels like, trying to identify it in yourself.

“Only as much as you want,” he repeats, “It will be okay, I promise. There’s no shame in this.”

You nod, and he gazes at you one more moment before kissing you on the forehead and beginning his movements again. You still push the cries down, but as your breathe quickens, you let them fall from your mouth as gasps without swallowing them back, allowing them to edge into moans.

He doesn’t speak, doesn’t comment, but you can see how he lights up just a little more with each sound you make. He looks proud, and you’re not sure of whom.

He then pushes his fingers deep into you, curling them into your sweet spot, gaze fixed on you as your gasps crest with increasing force. You throw your head back in a broken moan that you only half try to conceal.

“I’m –“ you gasp, and he immediately picks up on your meaning, how close you are to your release. He adjusts his body to cage you in further, shielding you from view as much as possible, watching enraptured as you finally tumble from your peak. His lips crash into yours, swallowing your cry. Stealing your voice from the crowd, gifting it back to you.

As you come down from your high, you open your eyes and see – the ice has fully melted. That as you had let yourself go, so did he, leaving only that boy who peeked around corners to get glimpses of you. You now see his eagerness to give you a soft place to land, the desperation to smooth out your discomfort and replace it with pleasure. The devotion and care pour out of him, unrestrained, just as undignified as your cries.

You think of all the times you saw him that summer. Every time you smiled at him, each time he looked at you. All those moments suddenly light up, like constellations in the void of night, their new weight tethering your past to your present, grounding you again.

And suddenly you want. Want so much it feels like you are bursting, your capacity diminished for desire diminished after so many months. The muscle unused, unconditioned, straining at the sudden pressure.

And so, finally, he succeeds – the room around you fades, the crowd disappears, you aren’t thinking anymore when you moan out, clawing at his back, your hands twisting in his hair, pulling him to you so that you can nestle into him.

“Please, please,” you beg, “Want you.”

His senses are all overwhelmed by your desire, tasting it and feeling it and now hearing it, and he rushes, fast as he can, to soothe, “I got you. I’m here. You have me.”

You’re too wrapped up in him to fully track on the steps that ensue, only noting when finally you feel him at your entrance, and he gently pushes in. He slides in easily, and you sigh in relief. He notices, beaming down at you.

His first thrusts are slow, experimental. He watches you carefully, listens carefully to ensure your gasps are only from pleasure before speeding up, angling himself into your tender spot.

The pleasure builds quickly, and you grasp at each other with equal desperation, touching, feeling, tasting anything you can reach. Your lips travel up his chest before you pull at his hair, revealing the column of his throat to you. You suck and lick until he is moaning, his sweet spot exposed, but he stops you, pressing you back into the pillows so he can kiss down your neck, traveling down to your collarbones. He has enough presence of mind to keep you covered, but still, he wants so much, wants to give you so much, that he lets his lips travel to your breasts, sucking and kissing your nipples through the fabric until they’re pebbling beneath his tongue. He can feel how his thrusts into you grow easier as you grow slicker, so he doesn’t stop, knowing this is how you want to be touched.

The cries tumble easily from your mouth, unrestrained, and you grasp at him as you gasp out his name again and again. Not his rank, not his title – his name. And he doesn’t correct you, doesn’t stop you, and will never.

As he continues to move in you, you start to notice – how his hand moves automatically to your cheek each time you cry out. The way his eyes dart between yours when he’s worried he’s doing something wrong. How when you grip at him he kisses your neck, reminding you that he’s there.

He pulls you closer as he feels your second release coming, his lips crashing into yours in your final cry. You don’t care at this point if people hear but still – he wants you to keep that for you only, among all the things you lost. And then, as his breathing grows more ragged, you hold him tighter too, tucking his head beneath yours, stroking his hair as he groans out, releasing into you.

Slowly, but also too quickly, the room around you begins to sharpen. The faces that look at you are flushed, mouths open, breathing heavy. The haze of snide remarks has been replaced by one of poorly concealed groans, and you realize – no one had ever seen anything like what you had just done. They are shocked at the display, aroused by it, confused. Unable to trace this moment to a source of the desire, unable to see the threads from your past.

The panic rises quickly at the raw exposure that you can’t pull back, the inspection that you know still remains, and you feel your breathing come in sharp bursts, burning your lungs. But then you are pulled against Chan’s chest, the only thing in your line of sight his skin, glistening.

“Shh, shh,” he coos, “Just close your eyes for me, yeah? I’ve got this.”

Trusting him, you do, and you feel as he shifts down your body, the sheets rustling.

“This will just take a second,” he whispers, “I’ll be as gentle as I can – I know you’re still sensitive.”

You nod, and then you feel cloth wipe against your core, now sore and swollen, to collect his release. Proof that he had emptied inside you – the final step. You inhale sharply at the contact, and you can hear how much he hates this too as he whispers, “Sorry, I’m so sorry, I know. All done.”

He places a gentle kiss on your forehead, before retying the bodice of your dress where it had come undone as you moved against one another, pulling your skirt down to cover where he now spills from you.

His hands are on your collarbones, tucking you in, and then the mattress sinks below you and he rises to standing. You hear voices – not words, just sounds that echo – and you recognize Chan’s among them. Then the shuffling of feet, the creak of the door, the thud as it closes.

Chan’s hand is on your cheek, cupping your face.

“It’s all over,” he says, “You can open your eyes.”

And for once, you want to.

~~~

Photo by Photoholgic on Unsplash

#straykidsland #chan smut #bang chan smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #bangchan smut #bang chan x reader #bangchan x reader #skz bangchan smut #chan x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #chan fanfic #bangchan fanfic #chan fic #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #bangchan fic

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purplespaceace · 3 years

Text

very few characters actually have adhd in media, and when they do, what people mean by that is just that they fidget a lot, not that they have adhd. the only character with adhd I can think of where I’ve watched/read it and I’ve gone, “oh, this character actually has adhd” is Jake peralta from Brooklyn 99. so, here’s my take on how to write adhd, with examples from Brooklyn 99.

I’ll do the best I can to separate them into three categories; the three things people look for in adults with ADHD, which are rejection sensitivity dysphoria, an interest-based nervous system, and emotional hyperarousal.

I’ll also randomly bold and italicize bits so people with ADHD can actually read it.

Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria, or RSD

Rejection sensitivity dysphoria makes people with ADHD overly sensitive to criticism, even if they perceive a rejection and there actually isn’t one. Their emotions are also very strong generally. Because of RSD, people with ADHD become people-pleasers and can develop anxiety because they’re so eager to please.

For me, RSD makes me cry an embarrassing amount for any little reason. in your writing, make your characters overdramatic, criers, and/or people-pleasers. They’ll have trouble saying no. They may also be over competitive, as their perceived rejection may include losing.

how does Jake show this in b99? When Jake comes up with a catchphrase and Rosa says it’s terrible, jake is far more hurt than he should be. He hates losing, and he gets overly upset whenever someone says they don’t like him or don’t trust him, etc. he’s also a people pleaser who has trouble saying no.

An interest-based nervous system

An interest-based nervous system includes hyperfocuses and an inability to pay attention. It stems from the fact that we can’t make as much dopamine as neurotypicals. This means that while neurotypicals get dopamine after completing a task, people with ADHD don’t. That means that people with ADHD don’t have any reason to do tasks, especially those they don’t like. This leads to executive dysfunction—people with ADHD will know they have to or want to do something, but they can’t seem to do it. people with ADHD hyperfocus on things that bring them dopamine. I was obsessed with warrior cats for three years. But hyperfocuses can also last a short amount of time—I’ll have a drawing idea in the middle of class and won’t be able to concentrate on anything else before I finish it. this is where our impulsiveness comes from. we can leap into things we think will give us dopamine without thinking, which can lead to injury. We also tend to tell people personal things they don’t want to hear because of this, and don’t have very good boundaries. We sometimes say whatever comes into our head, which can also result in us being rude on accident. Our voices can also get very loud or we can interrupt people frequently because we’re so impulsive. When people with ADHD hyperfocus, they can forget about anything else. I’ll forget to eat if I’m busy reading a Wikipedia article about feminism in the 1850s, and won’t go to the bathroom or drink water either. It’s also important to note that taking away distractions doesn’t help, because we can do things like pick at our skin and daydream—something that people with ADHD do a lot of. Because of executive dysfunction, people can call people with ADHD lazy or irresponsible.

people with ADHD can also be extremely indecisive because ADHD affects our executive functioning, and making decisions requires planning and prioritizing, and task initiation, which are both executive functions!

people with ADHD also have poor memory for important things, but tend to remember random bits of trivia. Poor memory leads to object permanence problems, which means people with ADHD can forget to call a friend back for weeks, forget that they need to read library books in a closed cabinet, or forget that the vegetables they got will go bad. People can sometimes say that people with ADHD don’t care about anything because of this.

people with ADHD can also be prone to depression because of under or overstimulation. Boredom feels painful for people with ADHD. If we’re overstimulated, we can experience sensory overload—if things are too bright or too loud, if too many things are touching us at once—often it’s not because the thing is too intense, but because too many things are happening at once.

We also have something some people call dolphin brain, where we jump from one thing to another. From the outside, it looks really random, but I find that when I’m talking to another neurodivergent communication is generally easier. For instance, someone with ADHD might see a bee at a baseball field and tell their team about the time they saw whales at seaworld because their little brother was also stung by a wasp there. people will see no connection on the outside, but it makes perfect sense to the person with ADHD.

people with ADHD can also be overachievers, either because they hyperfocus on schoolwork or their RSD makes it so that failing at something isn’t an option. people with ADHD can also be very controlling and stubborn, probably because we hyperfocus on something and cant handle it being any different, and any change to our plans can be seen as rejection.

we can also have a hard time ordering our thoughts or doing stuff like math in our head. a lot of the time I number my thoughts like, 1. this reason, 2. this reason, etc. even if theres only two or sometimes I just need the 1. as a transition for my brain. when I don’t write it down or organize it like that it feels like I’m trying to grasp ropes that have been covered in oil (it’s not going to happen) and then my brain gets all jumbled and I have to restart at the beginning. this is probably just me, but it feels the same way when I’m reading long paragraphs of something uninteresting, or even short bits of historical documents because the way they phrase things is really pompous and hard to process.

also, stuff like caffeine calms us down and helps us focus. people who don’t take medication (me) often drink coffee or caffeinated sodas to focus.

another random tip, but if your character with ADHD also is genderfluid or genderflux, they might have a hard time figuring out their gender sometimes, because we can be known to have a hard time putting our feelings into words or our brains will just go, “nope, not thinking about that right now” and move on, which can be pretty frustrating.

people with adhd also have a trait called time blindness, where we have no idea how long something takes and therefore can’t manage our time very well. this often results in us being late or just sitting around the house because we got ready way too early.

we also have something called consequence blindness—we do things and are completely unaware of the consequences. if I don’t brush my teeth, I get cavities. but I don’t think about that when I’m deciding I’m too tired to brush my teeth.

in b99, jake regularly stays up all night solving cases and watches documentaries on random topics. He’s also very distractible—when they’re trying to find the person who sent Captain Holt death threats in the train yard, Jake says he and captain holt should take a train trip together sometime. Jake says that he’ll forget Amy if they don't work together because he’s like a goldfish.

Emotional hyperarousal

This is the only thing people tend to include when writing characters: the fidgeting. People with ADHD tend to need more stimulation than others, so we’ll do things like draw during class and chew on pens.

people with ADHD can also have apd, or auditory processing disorder. we tend to watch shows with subtitles on and may take a second to process what you’re saying, or hear it wrong. The subtitles thing may be partially do to creating just the right amount of stimulation, but if I don’t have subtitles, me and my other friends with ADHD will watch tv with the volume turned up very high. People with ADHD also can have a hard time interpreting other people‘s tone and have a hard time controlling their own. They can be bad at social cues and have poor manners because we don’t pick up on that stuff.

people with ADHD also tend to observe everything or nothing at any given time, mostly based on the amount of stimulation they have—if they dont have a lot in their main task, they’ll need to take in something else at the same time. Likewise, if I’m hyperfocusing on something I often don’t notice anything else, like if someone asks me a question.

in b99, Jake fidgets with things a lot. In the intro, he’s picking up and examining a figurine on his desk, likely because he was bored with paperwork or some other task.

#adhd #writing #writing adhd #brooklyn nine nine #b99 #brooklyn99 #Jake peralta #Adhd Jake #neurodivergent #writing tips #adhd problems #adhd misconceptions #nd #neurodivergence

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youryanderedaddy · 3 years

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I had a dream just now that might make a good story. So, I had a virus on my laptop which allowed a hacker to see everything I did on my computer and use my webcam. The hacker ends up falling in love with me after stalking me for a few months and pays for someone on the dark web to kidnap me. It works, and then I wake up tied up in the hacker's arm as he caresses and kisses me. That's pretty much it, good night! 🌙

Yo this is my kink 😳

Also I couldn't not write this for Saeran, ok.

Title: Stranger danger

Tw: nsfw - ish, female reader, masturbation, cyber stalking, hacking, mentions of dark web, very irresponsible online behavior, obsessive behavior, implied kidnapping

You knew that this was a stupid idea. Lurking on the dark web with almost no protection other than the Tor browser and some free anti-virus program wasn't your best decision, but fuck it if it wasn't entertaining. You had always been drawn to the darker, scarier part of the human mind and this side of the internet proved quite interesting. Your friends always warned you about the dangers that came with looking up shady online searches and sites but everything had been quite peaceful so far. There weren't hackers or murderers on the dark web, the worst you had seen were people selling drugs and weapons for unreasonable prices, along with some questionable fetish porn and the typical popping ads.

Your favorite thing to do while online was chatting. Two weeks ago you had stumbled upon an unusual forum called "Scream buddies" where upon entering you were automatically connected to another random profile. The whole theme of the forum was discussing horror and mondo movies, shockumentaries and overall creepy stuff, your forte. The person you met on there shared a similar fascination with all things dark and gory which soon made talking to them the only thing you were looking forward upon opening the site.

You didn't know much about the guy behind the profile yet, except that he was a young man. His icon showed an eye so green it emited with the neon pigment and his username was just as mysterious - BlueRose7. You enjoyed chatting with him about your hobby but the thing you liked the most was undressing him little by little, metaphorically so, by getting pieces of information about his life. It started small - his favorite food, favorite book, favorite game, but the moment you tried digging deeper and asked whether he had siblings or not, the man simply disappeared for the next few days. You quickly realized just what type of topics you needed to avoid to keep your new friend from leaving. Family, childhood memories and work matters were out of the picture.

The stranger wasn't fair, not really. He didn't show you vulnerability and kept his secrecy while demanding to know everything there was to know about you. For the longest time you didn't want to answer just to stay on a equal footing, just to show him how frustrating it was, but there was something about the man that drew you in. He was magnetic, clever and witty, if a bit pessimistic and dark at times. You couldn't help telling him everything he wanted to hear - what your job was, whether you were single or not, all that jazz. In your defense, BlueRose7 actually listened to your stories, took your problems seriously and provided solutions, which despite being too extreme and overprotective at times (upon hearing that your bestfriend talked behind your back he offered to "take care" of her), were comforting. It was nice to have someone caring around even if you met him on a sketchy website.

Meanwhile your personal life wasn't going too great. You had to balance between attending college, working long shifts as a waitress and meeting your friends from time to time which was draining. On top of all there was a weird virus on your computer which resulted in the camera turning on and off and the most random times of the day - while you were studying, watching TV, or in some cases, fully naked and ready to take a bath. You didn't think much of it though, with all the illegal movies and games you downloaded along with the dark web lurking it was more than expected for your laptop to behave weirdly. You didn't even mention it to your friend from the IT major because you knew that he'd force you to delete Tor and put an end to your internet adventures.

One time you were particularly bored after several long lectures and you were laying in bed, the camera turned on once again. It was a hot afternoon and you were wearing boyshorts and a loose T- shirt with nothing underneath it, you were home alone so there was no need. The bright red spot was twinking like a recorder, the light reflecting in your eyes, when a silly little idea came to your mind. You slid your hand under your blouse and lifted the fabric up, exposing your breasts to the laptop, your nipples hardening due to the sudden coldness, becoming pink and stiff in seconds. You played with for a few minutes, pinching and pulling the buds gently, moaning softly into the pleasant sensation. Soon you could feel yourself getting wet, and slowly, teasingly, removed your shorts and panties. You smiled at the camera, biting your lip provocatively, imagining you were a camgirl performing for her desperate little fanboys and fangirls. The thought alone was enough to make you spread your legs wide and slip two fingers into your throbbing cunt, using the wetness to push deeper. You used your other hand to stroke your clit and whimpered wantonly, your face red, your neck sweaty and your heart pumping fast from the adrenaline. You were quickly reaching your orgasm and your mind wondered to the boy you were talking to in the forum. You wondered how he looked like, how his body was built, whether he was a sweet sensual lover or a rough mean one. Fucked up as it was, you pictured the man as one of your most loyal viewers, watching all of your streams with a fist around his thick vock and an excited grin on his face. He would comment things like "you look so beautiful like this" or perhaps even "pretty little slut" after tipping you enough to last you a week. Soon all the mental stimulation sent you over the edge and you came with a loud cry full of pleasure. Well, this felt good.

After your "performance" was over the camera was magically turned off, which may have caused some concerns if you weren't too busy feeling embarrassed and dirty about the unhinged fantasy you had just had, and with a person you knew nothing about. You managed to calm down though - it wasn't nothing more than a fun pastime, a naughty thought that would never become the reality. You would never actually meet BlueRose7, right? There was nothing to worry about, so you just went on with your day.

You had some dinner afterwards and decided to have an early night as you already felt full and tired. You put on your favoruite pajamas and laid in bed, staring at the ceiling until you fell into deep dreamless sleep.

You woke up due to a weird noise. You could hear someone's heavy breathing right next to your ear, someone's grabby hands were wrapped tightly against your body, trapping you between the wall and their hard chest. You had only a few seconds to scream before the intruder's palm covered your mouth.

"Shhh." The man whispered softly and stroked your hair like you were a doll he was playing with. "Don't scream or I'll be forced to hurt you, flower. I have a gun." His voice sounded deep and rough but this didn't stop you from thrashing and turning on your side until you came face to face with the man. It was dark in the room and you couldn't exactly see all his features but his enchanting green eyes would forever be burned into your memory - they seemed dashing, hypnotizing. You couldn't utter a word.

"It's me, the person you've been talking to all these months. I came to take you home" He spoke out suddenly, the line of his mouth twisting into a smile or a smirk, you couldn't quite tell. You shook your head no, tears threatening to spill all over your cheeks from the fear. It couldn't be him, the man would never do that to you. Or would he? With what little information you knew, you couldn't really tell. His hold finally loosen, seeing you quiet like that.

"Let me go, please." You begged, pushing at his shoulders weakly since you were still sleepy, groggy and tired. "I don't know you." You said, hoping this would remind the stranger you weren't friends, lovers or anything that gave him the right to be so close to you, to touch you so intimately. Unfortunately, this only seemed to amuse him and he chucked darkly as he pulled your hair away to place a small chaste kiss on your neck.

"But I know you, flower." Your supposed online friend replied shortly after, his eyes full of malice. "And your little show today makes me think you want to know me too." He added in a low tone, licking his lips before smashing them on yours, forcing his tongue deep into your mouth just to hear your whines and protests. Then it hit you. The camera, the virus, the questions. He had watched you, he knew where you worked, where you lived and studied, everything. You had told him after all.

The hacker thought you looked so adorable right now, figuring things out, helpless, confused, regretful and most of all, weak. You were so weak and careless, and he loved you for it. It reminded him of himself before life screwed him over.

You wouldn't be in this position, underneath him, if you had just told someone about your laptop virus and the bad guy you had encountered online. But Saeran couldn't say he wasn't glad your self-preservation instincts were so very broken and dysfunctional. He wouldn't meet you otherwise. "I need you, princess. That's why I'll take you to Paradise." These were the final words you heard before you felt lightheaded and sleepy again, your last memory a pair of green mint eyes.

You really shouldn't have trusted strangers on the internet.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere mystic messenger #yandere saeran #yandere oneshot #yandere saeran choi #yandere unkown #yancore #male yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut #yandere x you #yandere hacker

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earlgreydream · 3 years

Text

safeword.

| loki x reader | smut | fluff |

anon requested. Loki is punishing his little but maybe he takes it way too far. Like he make her put a vibrator in overnight, she cums too many times and it's painful and she's overstimulated and says her safeword. When he realized how scared and exhausted she is, he feels bad and fluffy aftercare

* my ddlg content does not include age regression

cw: mentions of spanking, forced orgasms, overstimulation, mentions of alcohol, d/s, ddlg (daddy, sub)

“Daddy, I’m sorry,” you wept, tears blurring your vision and staining your cheeks.

Loki’s expression was full of disappointment. He hated to have to discipline you, but left over anxiety and frustration reminded him why he was doing it. He watched as you winced from your backside brushing the mattress, red welts raised on your skin from where you’d been spanked a few minutes before.

You’d just been set on the bed after being bent over the edge of it, your legs spread to expose every inch of your tender skin to Loki’s painful blows. He didn’t let up until you were shrieking every time his hand cracked down on your ass, trembling as your skin turned a deep crimson.

Your sobs made his chest ache, but it wasn’t near as bad as the fear that had shot through him when you’d nearly gotten alcohol poisoning. You’d gotten way too drunk at a party, one you weren’t even supposed to be at in the first place. On top of that, you’d put yourself in danger, and Loki had to pick you up, leaving a business meeting too early.

Loki was furious once the fear had ebbed off, and he sat awake all night by your bed, making sure you were okay. The morning after, he’d fed you toast and made you drink nearly a gallon of water and coffee, trying to wash it all out of your system. You were miserable, from being hungover, the threat of punishment hanging over your head, and Loki’s disappointment.

His anger wasn’t loud, or violent, Loki never even raised his voice at you. It was silent and worried, making him eerily calm. Somehow, that made you feel a million times worse.

“I know you’re sorry, darling,” Loki’s smooth voice comforted you, despite the fact he wasn’t nearly finished with correcting your misbehavior.

“You know I don’t take pleasure from punishing you?” Loki’s gaze locked with yours.

“I know daddy, but I deserve it,” you answered tearfully.

Loki bit the inside of his lip. Your voice was meek, and you looked so frightened, even knowing you had a safeword--Valhalla-- and Loki would never hurt you beyond your consent.

Loki had already made you come multiple times, and you jumped when you heard the sound of a vibrator turn on.

“I’m sorry, I just want to sleep,” you begged, sobs interrupting your speech.

“You’ll sleep with it in.”

You continued to sob, but you opened your legs obediently. Your ass already burned like fire from Loki’s hand, and you didn’t want to give him a reason to flip you over and lay back into you with his belt.

You choked, gripping the sheets as he slid it inside of you, prolonging your suffering. He hushed you quietly, telling you that you’d be done when you woke up in the morning. His tone was stern, and you swallowed your cries, wincing as you tried to get comfortable, finally deciding it was impossible with the unyielding buzzing inside of your throbbing core.

Your body tensed as you orgasmed again, unable to stop with the constant stimulation. You ached, and a pained whimper escaping your lips. Your head rested on Loki’s chest, and you winced as his touch ghosted down your spine, any stimulation unwelcome. You snuggled tighter into Loki, not wanting him to think you were afraid of him.

Your body finally gave out from exhaustion, sleep winning over your discomfort. You woke up less than a couple hours later, pain dragging you back to consciousness. You’d been forced to orgasm far too many times to the point it was painful, a sharp ache throbbing through your abdomen. You were terribly exhausted, and the intensity of the punishment frightened you.

“Daddy, please wake up!” you whined desperately, your hand gripping his as tremors caused you to shake.

Loki woke up, immediately pulled out of sleep at the sound of your fear.

“What is it, baby?” He sat up, turning on the lamp.

“It’s too much, please, I’ve had enough. Valhalla,” you wept, and Loki’s heart sank to his stomach. He pulled the vibrator out of you, shutting it off and tossing it aside.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you, I should’ve been more careful. You’re okay, darling. I’m done, it’s over,” Loki felt terrible, pulling you into his arms, being careful of your tender skin.

Loki held you until you were no longer shaking and your sobs had ceased, leaving you limp against his chest. You leaned into his arms, trying to snuggle deeper into him. You were still out of it, deep in subspace and clinging to the safety it brought you.

“I’m going to clean you up, okay? We’re going to take a bath.”

“Darling, I need to hear that pretty voice,” Loki encouraged softly, kissing your forehead.

“Okay, daddy,” you whispered.

“Loki,” he corrected, kissing your temple.

Your face scrunched up, clinging to your subspace. He sighed softly and lifted you out of bed, carrying you to the bathtub and setting you down. You squirmed away as the hot water lapped your skin, stinging a bit.

“Y-you said I was done,” you stammered, startled.

“You are, I’m sorry, I know you’re sensitive. I’ll be quick,” he explained, turning down the water temperature. He pushed down on your shoulder, kissing your temple and letting the water rise.

He knelt beside of you, washing your hair and body, promising you would get to sleep after your bath. Loki was incredibly gentle, whispering how much he loved you and how proud he was of you.

He squeezed the excess water out of your hair and pulled the train. He helped you stand, and you held his hands as you stepped onto the soft bath mat. Loki dried you off, his large hands massaging lotion into your skin.

He helped you dress in silk pajamas that matched your eyes, the fabric soft on your skin. You were coming out of your haze, coaxed back to yourself as Loki went through your aftercare, protecting you when you felt fragile.

“Are you still upset with me?” you asked, finally breaking your silence.

“No, Y/N, of course not. I stopped being upset with you when you woke up yesterday morning. I was just worried. I love you so much, more than all the stars in the universe. I would be devastated if anything happened to you,” he promised, cradling your face before tenderly kissing your lips.

“I didn’t realize how much I had. It was an accident, but I know I shouldn’t have gone alone.”

“It’s alright, you’re safe now. That’s all that matters. And I love you, my beautiful, sleepy girl.”

“I love you too, Loki,” you wrapped your arms around his neck. He hugged you, kissing your head.

“Can I get you to drink some tea? Your voice is a little gravely,” he asked, and you nodded, holding onto his arm as you walked to the living room.

The bath and being taken out of bed had woken you up a bit, and tea sounded amazing. Loki handed you the box, and you sifted through the teabags until you found lemon tea. You placed it in Loki’s hand before wrapping your arms around his waist, your head resting against his back.

He mixed honey into the tea and circled around in your arms, hugging you tightly.

“Do you hate me?” Loki murmured against the top of your head.

“No, never.”

“It was not my intention to hurt you,” he confessed when he saw you limp slightly on your way to the couch, wincing as you sat down.

“I know. It’s okay,” you said, settling against his chest while he turned on an old sitcom. You held the warm cup, drinking it as Loki’s hand slipped under your shirt, gently resting on your abdomen. His fingers rubbed your skin, his arm draped around you.

You fell asleep, relaxing against Loki. You slept through the night this time, much more comfortable. Loki fell asleep listening to the sound of your breathing, not letting himself relax until you were deep into your sleep.

#loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki #loki laufeyson #loki fluff #loki smut #earl grey loki #loki x reader smut #loki x reader fluff #loki x you #loki odinson #marvel #marvel au #avengers #avengers au #female reader #loki imagine #loki oneshot #loki blurb

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piecksz · 3 years

Text

three’s a crowd | (m)

pairing: reiner x fem!reader x eren

warnings: nsfw, oral sex (female recieving), cuckolding, male masturbation, penetrative sex, voyeurism, slight degredation, slight angst, light mention of drugs, explicit language

summary: reiner’s attempt at hiding his attraction towards you fails, but lucky for him, eren’s feeling generous.

words: 4.6k

a/n: this was so much longer than i planned for.....well.....shit LMAOOO

a/n x2: I FORGOT TO ADD if you guys wanna listen to the song i looped like 47 fucking times while writing this, bc i feel like it fits reiner in this one shot kinda well, u can listen to recognize by partynextdoor (feat. drake) :p enjoy

Reiner hated Eren.

He hadn’t gone into living with someone he’d never met in person before with innumerable expectations, but he wasn’t banking on his roommate to be his polar opposite. He hated the sound of Eren’s riotous music into the early hours of dawn. He hated the unbearable malodor of his marijuana dependence, and he hated the way he carried himself with an intolerable air of arrogance, but as much as Eren’s living habits irritated him, it was the fact that Eren had you that presided over all of his grievances.

Being a witness to it made Reiner sick, knowing that you were leagues above Eren, and surely you deserved someone respectable, but somehow he’d charmed you into a long-term relationship, and Reiner wondered how he’d managed it. If by some miracle it had been up to him, Reiner speculated that he would be a viable match for you--that was if he had those sentiments for you--and he reassured himself he didn’t hold any promiscuous feelings towards his roommate’s girlfriend.

Yet it was hard for Reiner to rationalize the obscene thoughts that pervaded his mind at 2 AM. His clock displayed the time in bold red numbers, an indication that he should have been fast asleep, but you had decided to spend the night, and he already understood what that entailed.

The walls in their apartment were thin and did an insubstantial job of muting the noise that traveled between rooms. Reiner boasted the privilege of having his room right next to Eren’s, which meant he could hear everything that happened on the other side of the barrier. He heard every whimper, every groan, every time Eren praised you for taking him so well, and every time he admired how irresistible you looked while he fucked you from the back. The sound was so lucid he could count exactly how many rounds you guys had gone, and it was usually two, three if Eren hadn’t seen you in a while which was rare.

You two were hard to ignore, no matter how hard Reiner had tried, meaning he was also up late, listening while you two coupled. Your cries of stimulation, however, he didn’t mind as much. In truth, Reiner was always tempted to slip his hands into his pants and get himself off to the sound of your enticing whimpers, but he would discourage himself, deciding it was against his better judgement. Instead he would opt to cover his ears with his pillow, flipping over onto his side and dedicating his total effort to falling asleep.

Of course, Reiner had long established that he didn’t like you, but he swore he could make you feel better than Eren could.

It was around midday when Reiner returned to their apartment after committing his morning to helping his long-time friend, Pieck, pack up the furniture at her studio in preparation to move. They were halfway finished with stowing away Pieck’s belongings before she realized they didn’t have enough boxes and apologized, asking Reiner if he’d be willing to return the following day to help her load up her remaining things. He obliged, guiltily happy that he was being dismissed early.

Reiner kicked off his shoes and ambled into the kitchen to set down the food he secured on his way home, but he paused momentarily to scrutinize the condition of the living room, discerning Eren’s obvious trace.

The TV was on, but it sat idly, blinking images of some prime time movie Reiner couldn’t recognize, and Eren’s drug paraphernalia was left scattered on the coffee table, his bong alongside his stray lighter and grinder.

“Eren!” Reiner had prompted him on several occasions, reminding Eren that just because he thought electricity was a necessary utility and should be free, didn’t mean it was, they still had to pay for it. He also requested that he put his bong away after he was done smoking since it wasn’t permitted in their building, but Eren seemed heedless to that demand too. “Eren!”

Reiner anticipated a response, but huffed when he received only silence. Leave it to his roommate to blight his good mood in record time. He mumbled inaudibly, swiping the remote off the table to turn the TV off, and then reluctantly bending down to tidy the space of Eren’s things.

“Hi, Sunshine. You’re up and about early.”

Reiner straightened himself out and turned around, unaware that you’d been over. He missed your approaching footsteps. Had you stayed the night? He didn’t hear anything from Eren’s room the previous evening which was unusual to say the least. Maybe you’d stopped by earlier that morning while he’d been out.

“Hey,” he replied meekly. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were here.”

Reiner’s eyes looked you over swiftly, slightly startled at the lack of clothing covering your bottom half. You were only wearing a loose shirt that stopped dangerously at your hips and a pair of lace undergarments, but naturally, you didn’t seem the least bit phased. You’d practically lived with them. When you weren’t in class or at your part-time job, you were at their apartment, leading Reiner to wonder if you forgot you had a place of your own.

“It’s fine,” you smiled. “Sorry Eren left all of his shit out. I don’t know how I know the house rules and he doesn’t.”

Reiner snorted. “He knows them, he just doesn’t care.” His voice was casual although he walked hastily into the kitchen to avoid looking at you. He stored Eren’s bong in the vacant cupboard above the microwave before throwing his other tools into a miscellaneous drawer.

As if on cue, Eren wandered out of his room languidly, carelessly shrugging a jacket onto his unclad upper body. Reiner took that as a sign that his lunch would be best enjoyed in his room. He was already irked, and wasn’t in the headspace to deal with the current atmosphere.

“What’d you get?” you questioned, leaning over the counter with mirth. You paid little attention to the way Eren came up behind you, circling his arms around your waist and resting his chin in the curve of your shoulder. You looked more interested in the alluring smells wafting from the paper bag in Reiner’s hand.

Another thing he hated about Eren was his shameless PDA. It appeared he adored showing you off, letting everyone know that you were his, but God--how could anyone forget when it seemed he was incapable of keeping his hands off of you. Reiner himself recognized that you were a prize, from your lively eyes that were a marriage of subtle hues to the way your lips curled upwards when you grinned. He even noticed the curve of your breasts’ shape through your shirt. If Reiner had you, he’d want you all to himself.

He shook the thought out of his head.

“I just got something small on the way home.” He forced a smile. “If I’d known you were over I would have gotten you something too.”

“Why do you treat Y/N better than you treat me?” Eren asked, sounding only a little bit offended.

Reiner pretended to think before he responded. “Ah, maybe it’s because I don’t like you.”

You laughed at Reiner’s reply, and Eren only smiled, but Reiner detected something else behind his expression. Mischief.

“Do you like Y/N?”

Reiner creased his eyebrows together. “Of course.” He hadn’t read too much into the question. He did like you. You weren’t just easy on the eyes, but you were great company too. That was the only reason he didn’t mind lending their apartment to you as a second home, he enjoyed being around you.

You let out an exaggerated aww after he answered. “I like you too, Reiner.”

Reiner chuckled, shaking his head, but inside he was telling his heart to calm down. You didn’t mean it like that.

Eren hummed absentmindedly, swaying side to side slowly while you rocked along to his movement.

“Do you wanna fuck her?”

Reiner gripped the bag in his hand tightly, and his smile faltered in shock, reeling from the bombshell of Eren’s question. “What?” Did he hear him correctly?

You looked just as surprised, exclaiming your boyfriend’s name and craning your neck to look at him.

“I’m kidding,” he dismissed, but Reiner could tell he wasn’t from the way Eren’s eyes didn’t waver from him.

What Reiner didn’t know was that Eren had caught onto him. He’d known for a while, which was why he was particularly touchy with you around Reiner, showing you off, not caring whether you walked around their apartment scarcely dressed, it was because Eren enjoyed having something that someone else wanted. He saw the way his roommate acted around his girlfriend, reserved and quiet, more than he usually was, and he even noticed the way Reiner’s eyes dipped down to your chest in the moment because Eren was exceptional at paying attention to detail.

You must have detected how uncomfortable Reiner felt because you delivered a brief jab to Eren’s ribs with your elbow.

“Eren, that’s not fucking funny,” you chided. “Do I need to put you in time out?”

“It’s fine,” Reiner interrupted quickly. He didn’t want you defending him because you were oblivious. It only made the situation more embarrassing than it already was since, truthfully, the thought had crossed his mind more than once.

Eren reiterated his question, eyes narrowed at Reiner. “So do you?”

You sighed heavily and looked at Reiner apologetically. He could feel his face growing hot, and he prayed it wasn’t obvious he was as flushed as he felt. He just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.

Reiner released a humourless chuckle. “Grow up, Eren.” He slipped past the two of you, but he didn’t get far.

“I’m only asking because I’m feeling charitable. You wouldn’t mind, would you baby?”

Reiner could hear Eren pressing a series of ticklish kisses against your skin, causing you to laugh through your answer.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind if Reiner doesn’t mind.”

Reiner brought his teeth down hard on the tip of his tongue. He was surprised that Eren was so secure in his relationship that he would willingly allow another man to have his way with his girlfriend. He wasn’t sure if his suggestion was insane or ingenious, because Eren had taken control of the one thing that threatened any relationship: infidelity, something so unvirtuous wouldn’t stop him from loving you. You and Eren were so committed to each other that a simple fuck meant nothing.

Reiner hesitated, but figured an opportunity like this was rare. He had both Eren’s permission and yours, yet he still didn’t believe his sincerity until you were in Eren’s room, starting to strip out of your clothes.

His chestnut eyes drifted over to Eren, slouched lazily in the chair he casually pulled out from his desk. “You’re gonna watch?”

Eren lifted a thick eyebrow, resting his thumb under his chin with an index finger against his cheek, looking unimpressed by Reiner’s obvious reservations. “You think I’d let you fuck my girlfriend without me here?”

Reiner slid a tense hand over the back of his neck, rubbing away the uncomfortable heat that creeped up his back and diffused to the tips of his ears. He figured that was reasonable considering the circumstances, after all, he was only fucking you because Eren had allowed it.

There was nothing more intoxicating to Reiner than your bare form, scanty pink lace clinging to your hips the only thing preventing you from being completely naked in front of him. His gaze dipped from your simpering smile down to your collarbones and then down to your breasts, perfectly sculpted to your figure.

Reiner made no efforts to move despite his insatiable urge to grab you in his arms and make certain that you were left satisfied. He feared he’d look too eager to Eren who was observing from the sidelines, but you paid little attention to your audience of one as you sauntered towards Reiner, closer and closer, until your arms slid around his neck and you pressed your chest to his torso.

Reiner’s body was strung so tightly, he was afraid he might snap. It seemed you took notice of the way his muscles tensed once your delicate fingers ghosted over the nape of his neck because your suggestive expression waned, and instead, your eyebrows creased with sincere concern.

“You okay?”

He couldn’t respond, but to be fair, it was because his heart was hammering against his chest and he wasn’t sure how to make it stop. He looked over at Eren again, who, fortunately, didn’t seem to pay much attention to him. Instead, your boyfriend’s stare was fixed on your backside, likely admiring how luscious you looked from his perspective.

“I’m over here.” You laughed and pressed a gentle finger to Reiner’s chin, redirecting his focus back to you. “Just relax.”

He swallowed, chuckling to soothe his unease. “I’m trying.”

Reiner wasn’t sure why he felt so unassertive in your presence. He didn’t hold a record like Eren did, but he also wasn't abstinent by any means. This, though, felt different. He was dealing with several months of pent-up sexual frustration that could only be satisfied by you and no one else. He knew because he’d tried.

Reiner drew in a ragged breath as you leaned into him, breathing heavily through his mouth until you closed the space in between you two, then he continued breathing heavily through his nose. At first, he made no efforts to close his eyes, afraid that the imagery in front of him was a mirage inspired by his own imagination and would disappear if he so much as blinked. His lips were timid, body taut under your touch, but you seduced his mouth, reining him in until he melted into the kiss.

He pushed back against you with fervor and desperation, outlining the shape of your bottom lip with his tongue before nipping at the soft flesh. You released a quiet whimper, intensifying the lust swelling in the pit of his stomach, and Reiner forced his tongue past your teeth, claiming your mouth while his wandering hands settled audaciously against your ass.

Your hands slid over his shoulders and crafted biceps until they tugged hastily against the hem of his shirt, and Reiner immediately understood your cue, withdrawing his mouth from yours to give himself just enough time to slip out of it. He dipped down again to deliver another kiss, but he was deterred by the feeling of your palm against his chest.

“What? Is something wrong?” he questioned quickly, eyes darting back and forth between your hand and your face, worried that he’d done something to overstep your boundaries.

Instead of the troubled expression he expected, you looked rather intrigued. Perhaps impressed was the better word. Your curiosity was held by Reiner’s physique, a living work of art. Eager fingers traveled down the built ripples of his abdomen, chuckling once you felt his muscles flex under your touch.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathed. “Nice, Braun.”

A snicker emitted from the corner. This, miraculously, Eren allowed.

Reiner's mouth quirked upward in a subtle smile before he surrounded you with his arm, pulling you in for another kiss. He walked you backwards until you collapsed onto the mattress, and he fell on top of you, strong forearms holding up his weight. It was then that Reiner realized he allowed his lust to win in the war against himself.

He pulled away to recover his breath, winded pants fanning over your face. His surveying eyes searched yours before they lowered to your swollen lips. God, you were even more mesmerizing up close, heavy-lidded and studying him through a curtain of eyelashes. Maybe for once Reiner would admit he was jealous of Eren. He was fucking envious, bitter, and spiteful that you were his. He’d been a goddamn idiot to let things go this far, agreeing to Eren’s offer, because he knew one fuck wouldn’t be enough to fufill his need for you. He’d barely gotten a taste, and he could already promise that nothing would ever compare to this.

He found your throat and pressed a fleeting kiss to your pulse, moving further down until his lips met your collarbone. He nipped at the delicate skin, taking notice of the way your grip in his hair tightened. His eyebrows arched while he peered up at you, delighting in the way your head rolled back and forth against the duvet. He really wanted to suck at your skin, leaving dark bruises that decorated the path from your earlobe down to your breastbone, but he knew Eren would kill him.

Reiner dipped lower until his lips brushed lightly against your beaded nipple. You made a small sound of protest, but held his head closer, letting him know what you really wanted. His heart beat erratically against his ribcage as he curved a large hand around your right breast and suppressed a groan, but you released a breathy whimper.

He could feel the sound wreaking havoc in his brain. His balls were so damn tight, it would take barely any effort for him to cum, but he wanted to prolong your coupling as long as possible. He didn’t know if he’d ever get another chance like this.

His thumb ran over the erect peaks of your breasts, captivated by the magic of watching your back arch and your body become aroused under his touch. He dipped a finger into his mouth, glazing it with his saliva before using it to flick back and forth at your nipple.

“Fuck, Reiner,” you mewled.

Reiner replaced his hand with his lips, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth. The tip of his tongue swirled around it, coating it generously with his spit, while you made no attempts to conceal your intense cries of pleasure.

Eren released an entertained sigh, swiveling back and forth in his chair. “She whines like a bitch, doesn’t she?”

Shit. Reiner had almost forgotten he was there, but he still released a hungry grunt in agreement, sending vibrations over your chest. He tugged at your nipple with his teeth, releasing it, and then soothing the sting with the flat side of his tongue.

He trailed down your abdomen, pressing hard wet kisses and stopping to leave a quick lick to your navel. He grinned against your skin when you gripped the sheets and breathed his name again, this time quieter, as if you meant it only for his ears. He liked to think so.

Once he reached the waistband of your panties, he licked along the fabric, immobilizing your rolling hips with strong hands.

“Enough with the theatrics, Reiner. Just do it already,” Eren groaned, sounding irate.

Reiner assumed Eren’s groan was only to stress his impatience, but once he looked over to him, he realized he wasn’t just giving directives from the sidelines. His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth, and his hand was moving steadily against the noticeable tent in his sweatpants.

He was enjoying this just as much as Reiner was, getting off to the sight of his girlfriend under another man, his roommate nonetheless.

Reiner suddenly felt strange. What the hell was he doing providing entertainment for Eren?

“Reiner,” your needy voice pulled him out of his reflection. His attention drifted back to you, watching while you propped yourself up on your elbows and slid your unsteady hands over your chest to tweak your own nipples, as if you were trying to hold yourself over.

He wished you hadn’t looked so tempting, even with your disheveled hair and sweaty skin, your vulnerable eyes fixated on him, and he was powerless.

Reiner hooked his fingers around your underwear, kissing a trail down the inside of your thighs as he pulled your panties down to your ankles before slipping them off and letting them pool on the floor.

“Spread wide baby, let him see that pretty pussy,” Eren stirred, cock now thrust out the top of his grey sweats and his swollen tip glistening with precum. His hand was wrapped firmly around his stiff length, moving slow while his breathing quickened.

For once, Reiner agreed with him, and he pressed his fingers into your thighs to aid you in parting your legs. Your pussy was slick with your own arousal, squelching as you tightened around nothing. You were even prettier than he’d imagined.

“Fuck,” Reiner breathed, extending two fingers to part your folds. Was he still sure he wasn’t dreaming?

He wrapped his built arms around your legs, pulled you closer, and lowered his head. He fixed his lips to your swollen clit, allowing his tongue to lap and circle around the tender bud every few seconds.

“Oh my god,” you cried, writhing against the sheets.

If he hadn’t secured your legs in his grip, he was certain you would have smothered him between your thighs out of reflex. He could detect the way you fought against his hold, but he far overpowered you in strength.

When he plunged his tongue inside you without notice, that was nearly enough to send you over the edge. You pulled on the sheets with a frenzied grip, producing a shrill cry your neighbors had certainly heard. There was no doubt about it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you murmured, chest expanding and falling with labored breaths.

Reiner wanted to spend a few more generous minutes tasting you, he couldn’t get enough, but he also wasn’t sure how much longer he would last. His cock was hot and hard in his pants, and he needed to feel you around him. Even if Eren wouldn’t let him cum inside of you, he needed to experience at least that much.

He rose to his feet, working quickly against his pants’ zipper while trying not to tease himself by looking at you. He was worried the mere sight of you on the bed, spread and ready for him would be enough to bring him to a climax, but he’d made the mistake of looking at you anyways, hand between your legs, delicate fingers rubbing at your clit while you stared up at him.

Fucking hell. Kill me. Reiner thought. Fuck. He felt the throbbing heat of his cock, and he wished you wouldn’t look at him like that. He really wished you wouldn’t look at him like that.

“Look at her, so desperate to be filled. It’s almost pathetic,” Eren laughed, but it was clear he was feeling your effect too. He lolled his head forward, long brown hair spilling over his shoulders and obscuring his face while his palm worked fast against his cock.

Shut up, Reiner thought. His head was growing hazy, and he couldn’t think. He needed to be inside you, and he couldn’t wait a second longer.

Reiner let himself free while his pants and underwear hung low around his knees. He couldn’t even find time to delight in the way your face melted into bliss once you laid eyes on his thick cock, leaking precum in sinful amounts because all he could think about was his ache. He leaned over you, positioning himself at your entrance.

He’d been waiting for this for so goddamn long.

Reiner exhaled when you said his name again, hips undulating against his cock and wet folds stroking his tip. He watched as he pushed himself into you, filling you to the hilt, and once he was inside he hung his head forward, eyes shut tightly in a painful sort of ecstasy.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Reiner grunted breathlessly.

He groaned, pinning your hips down with his once you attempted to fuck yourself onto his cock.

“Stop moving,” he pleaded. “Jesus christ--please don’t move.” He stayed still for a moment, waiting until his sensitivity subsided before he started rocking his hips against you slowly.

Reiner couldn’t dedicate his focus to anything other than the feeling of your slick walls clenching around his cock every time he pulled out, and the way he stretched you out every time he thrusted back in. He wondered if you could feel the depth of his desire.

“Harder,” you whispered once, and then begged louder. “Reiner please, fuck me harder.”

At first, Reiner was worried. He wanted to be gentle, he wanted to savor you, and he wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt you, but your request had him picking up the pace, ramming into you until the familiar slapping sound of sweaty skin filled the room.

You unraveled and became completely undone, letting out loud moans every time he drove his cock into you. Reiner thought the sound was incredibly euphonic as it fell upon his ears. You were like this because of him.

“How’s this?” His voice was husky and deep beside your ear.

Reiner was pleased by your lack of response. You could only nod, overwhelmed by the dual sensation brought on by him and the feeling of your quick fingers against your clit. You secured an arm around his neck again and wrapped your legs around his torso, clinging to him like he was all you needed. He wished that was how you really felt.

“Close…,” you murmured, and Reiner deduced you were warning him that you were near your orgasm. He could tell by the way your walls began to spasm.

Reiner felt the small of his back tighten, and he knew he was close too. He was torn between his release and holding himself back, not ready for this to end just yet, but his body betrayed him and he felt his cock twitch inside you.

Luckily, you reached your climax first, and Reiner watched in awe as your body seized underneath him, breasts bobbing with every jolt while you worked your clit into overstimulation. It wasn’t long after your orgasm that he made his last rueful thrusts. He quickly pulled out and clasped himself in the curve of his hand. He pumped his length until he released in quick spurts onto your stomach, covering you in his hot seed, and he kept pumping until he made sure he emptied himself of every drop.

His eyes quickly darted over to Eren, not to be odd or anything, but again, he had forgotten he was there. It seemed Eren had already satisfied himself. The creamy, white liquid decorating the bare skin of his abdomen and dribbling down his loose fist was evidence of that. Now that he had appeased his urges, he seemed disinterested as he reached over his desk and plucked a few tissues to clean himself up.

Reiner collapsed beside you, listening to the loud thudding of his heart as it delivered a few ecstatic beats while he caught his breath and began to calm down. He stared at the pivoting fan blades, and then his eyes dropped down to you lying next to him, sweaty and fucked out.

You were laying there with him, and goddammit he wanted to reach his arms out and wrap them around you, pulling you close so he could hold you and feel your heartbeat against his chest. He’d press kisses to your salty forehead, and then tell you how much he loved you. He wanted to stay like this.

Reiner's ideal vision dissolved once Eren stopped at the edge of the bed and extended his hand for you to grab.

“You wanna join me for a shower, baby?” Eren asked.

Of course, you took it, allowing him to support you until you were sitting up.

You released an exhausted laugh. “Yes, please.” You then turned to Reiner and arched your eyebrow in surprise. “By the way, not bad, Braun.”

Reiner gave you a small smile in return, but said nothing as he watched you cover your breasts with your arm and let Eren hoist you off the bed. You two slid past him and headed out of the room, but not without Eren looking back over his shoulder, shooting Reiner a shit-eating grin, as though reminding him who you’d always belong to.

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

Rush Hour

Pairing | Sebastian Stan x reader

Summary | whilst on the way to an interview, you and Sebastian are stuck in traffic. There seems to be only one way to pass the time that comes to mind.

Warnings | smut, fingering, teasing, slight voeyurism I guess (on the phone?)

QUICK LINK TO MY MASTERLIST IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF MY CRAP 😬

It was stressful, viewing how parades of cars, lined up in their designated sections filled the large road. It appeared as none of them were going to start moving for a while, and it made you bite your lip in frustration. Out of all days, it had to be this very one, when you had to assign your presence within a specific slot of time.

You and Sebastian had even left early, as insurance that you would arrive at your destination on time, but now, you had severe doubts that you would. And those doubts, within the past few minutes, had became incredible high. It looked as though there was no chance of escaping this frozen parade for the current and important time being.

Even the simplicity of looking out the window made you slightly mad, you had places to be, as you assumed many other people that were under the same predicament were too, but for the meanwhile, you weren’t going anywhere. The lines of vehicles were stuck in some kind of limbo, stricken by the same thundering of karma at once.

Your significant other was behind the wheel, tapping his long fingers upon the round gear, causing your attention to divert up to his talented digits. As you studied them and their smooth exterior, an idea rendered in your fuming mind, and so, to put it into action, you slyly placed one of your own hands to rest upon his upper thigh.

Sebastian, instead of waving off the affection, smiled at it, thinking that it was nothing more than a tender instinct to also calm him down. The bet was, his agent would have his ass for showing up late, well aware that they had been the one to arrange this press in order to promote the latest of your shared projects.

However, he had not expected in this bustling, and public surrounding moment that you would creep your grip up higher, and so he tensed as you did just that. But he chose to allow you to continue for now, his front deep digging solely into his lower lip to express some of the tension that he was under whilst stuck in the car.

It was impossible to predict how long the pair of you would be stuck in the moving box, and it seemed that you had configured a way in your mind to pass it. One that had lead to your fingers dancing over his trousers, and making him groan lightly in anticipation.

His cobalt eyes snapped towards you though as you removed your hand. To put it simply, you were teasing him, riling him up in the constricted amount of space. It relented you no escape from him, nor his uptake in revenge. And as you shrouded under his gaze against the inside of the passenger side door, you gulped.

Perhaps, you thought, you should have just kept your hands to yourself. And then, you would not have been stuck in this predicament of being cursed with his winter glare; it made you feel like melting ice cowering into the level below. For a second, you wished the controls of the radio volume had the ability to reverse time, so that you could correct your mistake.

The feeling of his hands abandoning the wheel, considering that the car was not going to be continuing moving on the road for a while, and drifting towards the bottom seam of your skirt had you inhaling as much air as your lungs would allow. It would not be the first instance of which he put his earnest skin upon yours in public, but with all around being still on one spot, a part of you worried sincerely of a noticed fan grabbing their phone with their clammy hands, and recording the interaction.

And if done, the interval, whilst stuck in one, would be painted sourly over the entire internet. There would be an assortment of clashing reviews; some lustful and imagining what it would be like to be trapped in the car with you two, and others shaming of your indecency. And to say the magazines and online articles would have a field day, well, that would be an understatement.

Seb drifted his feather light touch up higher, brushing just above the border that labelled the end of your outfit. Instead of say anything that compromised his mission, you settled back into your seat, sinking your head into the designed rest, and opened your legs a little, permitting him no resistance to do as he pleased; all because, you wanted the satisfaction and fulfilment of the adult acts too.

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip, squashing it beneath the carnivorous bone, as his hands danced elegantly around beneath the complimentary fabric. He toyed with you, by stroking his fingers over the thin material of your underwear, expertly putting pressure down upon your covered bud, confiscating a breathy whine out of your closed mouth. “You’re already wet.” A damn smirk coveted itself upon his healthy lips, your eyes flickering between the seductive sight, and that hidden beneath your clothes.

“Do something.” It wasn’t an order on your part; it was a sensual beg, in other terms, your sexual starvation put into words. The air from your lungs was practically ripped away as your partner delved his explorative fingers into the privacy of your garments, the pads of his delirium causing fingers heading straight towards your swollen and puffy clit.

With no hesitancy, you head rolled sideways to rest against the window, your breath frosting carelessly against the glass. Instead of caring about what was being viewed from the outside of the car, you focused on what could be seen from within the space of the front two seats. And so, you pushed up your skirt, giving the pair of you an explicit image of his hand roaming beneath the divider that kept your crotch from the barren air.

“Like this?” Sebastian taunted, sinking a finger into your sopping hole, causing your eyelashes to flutter at the sensation. A furrow worried his face however, even as he stayed still, not moving his digit, all due to the ringing of his phone. Using his free hand, he picked up the device, bringing it to his ear. “Hello?”

As he began to converse, he slowly paced his finger in and out of you, the thought of him finger fucking you whilst on the phone making you that much wetter. “No, me and y/n are going to be late, there’s traffic.” You assumed that he was speaking to his agent, and as you mewled, he left you empty, bringing his finger to his mouth to clean.

“I don’t know how long it’s going to be until the road clears.” Seb sighed, after removing his slick coated digit from his mouth, pouring a little spit onto it, and bringing it down to rest on you clit. Shuffling, you leant back as far as the seat belt allowed you to have both of your feet to be perched on the end of the passenger side, knees tucked up your body willing to take whatever he would so much as give to you.

“Seb.” At the sound of his voice falling so erotically from his lips, a crease formed between his eyebrows, and so, as punishment for interfering with the static of his phone, he pinched your clit, and to cease the audible response, you bit into the palm of your hand, leaving indents of your teeth begins.

“I can’t make it go any faster.” You were not sure whether he was speaking to you or his agent. But it didn’t matter, not as he began to roll your clit between his fingers, paying the button ample attention, that had your head going all fuzzy and thoughtless.

“As much as I wish I could clear up this whole parade of stuck cars, I can’t.” He deliberately shook his head, purposely looking away from where he was playing with you to keep focused on the phone call, despite still rubbing tight circles around your bud. “She’s fine, in fact, she’s fallen asleep. Y/n will be all rested and content if we get there.”

Rested was a word that you were opting against, but if you were going to be privileged with being made content, then who were you to argue with him? So you remained silent, biting onto anything that could silence you, to keep yourself satisfied and ensuring that he would keep some truth behind his words. “See what you can do, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With little to no reluctance, he dropped his phone onto his lap, it meeting and causing some friction against his semi. But the awakening in his trousers was not his priority, instead it was the slick that was collecting so wholesomely on his fingers, acting as a natural lubrication to continue his round administrations.

“Sebby.” This time, instead of trying to silence you, the man marked you with a pleasant grin, only to apply more pressure behind his movements. It was a wicked deed, but you had no mind to it as it served no bother; instead, you were rather pleased that he was to be giving in on his pardoning.

“You going to cum for me darling?” His words were almost taunting, you could feel a flush of heat cascade up your neck and all around your body. And all from clitoral stimulation, this man certainly knew what he was doing. “Cum on my fingers baby, make them all nice and wet.”

Plunging your teeth once more into your bottom lip, you groaned, shutting your eyes and breathing steadily throughout your nostrils. And with that, you shattered underneath him, your shoulders twinging from the spasming aftershocks that riddled your body senseless.

“Would you look at that, the cars are slowly beginning move.” You needn’t have even needed to open your y/e/c eyes to know that there was an amused smirk contouring his features; that man sure could get cocky sometimes, and half of those happened to be in public.

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may-b-a-u-shewritestoo · 3 years

Text

The feeling is mutual | | Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader | |

A little fluffy 2 part series that I wanted to drop real quick to get back into the swing of things, I hope you like it! It feels good to be back but I’m terrified. I feel like a little deer in headlights! Feedback is most welcomed ALWAYS. ✨

PART 2

Summary; You’re both profilers, analysing behaviour and making connections. So why is it so hard to read each other?

Includes; mentions of sex, mentions of being on period, mention of serial killer unsub (if you know what movie i’m referencing then I love you), fluff! ✨

Word count; 1.2k ✨ (second part will be longer! this is just a little part 1 to see what y’all think)

“I literally want nothing more right now Spencer but I can’t.”

Stood in the break room at work, you mixed the sugar into your coffee and sighed at the very eager colleague beside you.

For a few months now, you’d been having a physical relationship with Spencer. No deeper or hidden feelings had been discussed, you guys were friends who had needs, and those needs could be met by each other. Nothing but trust, friendship and safety with a side order of good sex.

However, Spencer was usually good at keeping things subtle; he’d at least wait until you were both off and out of work to pursue things further. But not today. He’d clearly woken up with a motive. Which was apparently to be inside you by the end of your shift.

Unfortunately for him it was that oh-so-wonderful time of the month and as much as you debated it in your head the second you saw the dark desperation in his eyes, you were not in the mood for all the effort of cleaning up after. Especially not at work.

“You called ME last night, Y/N. It took all of my self control to NOT to get in my car and take you until sunrise.” Spencer grew closer to you, his attitude not remotely intimidating because of the whiny tone in his voice. He was right, you’d been particularly needy the night before; calling him up and breathily whispering down the phone in an attempt to get him to come over. But you both had an early start so you eventually changed your mind.

You just giggled and sipped your drink, misjudging how hot it would be.

“Ah you - stupid fu-‘ Immediately grabbing a bottle of water from a mini fridge below the counter, you took a gulp to soothe your throat.

“I’m just saying, what’s suddenly changed in 16 hours and 42 minutes that’s so drastic?” Spencer looked down at you, ignoring the entire hot drink charade, but having a genuine concern on his face for something else.

Rolling your eyes and standing up to speak to him properly, you took a hold of your coffee cup once again and attempted your most serious face.

“First off, I’m allowed to change my mind. Secondly, I got my period this morning and - no, before you even attempt to convince me ‘oh it’s fine’ I’m not in the mood. Now get your blood rushing back to the right head because I do believe we’ve got a case.”

***************

The unsub was suspected to be a woman in her mid to late 30’s, using a technique similar to that of Ted Bundy and Aileen Wuornos. So far the team had deduced she would lure the victims with seduction at local bars in the area, pretend to be extremely drunk in order to attract creeps and when they took her home she would kill them.

The plan would be for Derek to go undercover at a bar that all the victims had attended and hopefully find the unsub. But first they all needed rest. They’d been working from 8am, after landing at 7am, and now it was 11pm.

Hotch had agreed everybody needed to recuperate and get together around midday the next day, as he knew the unsub would only be out and preying from late evening.

The hotel you guys were staying at was actually pretty luxurious considering the urgency and location. Hoping to share a room with Tara or Emily so you knew you would get some sleep, you grabbed your bags and headed up to see your roommate.

Keying the card and gaining entry with a jolly beep, you noticed it was still dark. Had you been lucky and scored your own room? Flicking the lights on, you let out a frustrated groan when you saw him sitting against the headboard.

A smug grin stretched across his face before it dropped back into that familiar pursed concern look.

“I didn’t do this to annoy you Y/N, I just wanted to spend more time with you. I can switch with JJ.” Spencer began to shuffle off the bed and you just tutted and put your bag down.

“No, stay. I’m not mad. At least not annoyed mad. I’m frustrated. But not with you. I’m just-“

“Y/N.”

Tiredly dragging your palms down your face, you opened your eyes to finally make eye contact with the poor man who was victim to your hormones.

“I’m sorry. I’m just miserable.” you walked around to the side of the bed where Spencer sat on the edge. His eyes followed you, watching your face in an attempt to profile whatever you were thinking. His hands came up to rest at your sides, thumbs stroking lightly across your hips.

“Do you want me to leave so you can get some rest? You’re tired, I can tell.”

“Don’t profile me Spencer.” you chucked lightly, your own hands coming to rest over his. He smiled softly up at you, waiting for your answer.

“Stay please.” Matching his gentle smile, you looked over at your bag before looking back at him. “I need to shower and then I’ll be right in okay?”

Spencer nodded and leant to reach just beside you, where his bag sat on a chair. You knew he was getting a book out, so that he would distract himself while waiting up for you; the one thing you admired and got excited about was falling asleep next to him.

******************

“Do you always do that? I’ve never noticed it before?” Spencer asked quietly into your ear.

You were cozily tucked into his neck, one hand resting against his chest and the other squished between your bodies. Legs entwined with one another, you were absentmindedly rubbing your foot up and down along his. It was a comfort for you, you mostly did it to yourself when you were sleepy.

“Mhmm.”

“It’s cute. Are you anxious? Or stressed? It’s actually a very common limbic response to anxiety, it releases endorphins so you know, you’re essentially giving yourself a massage.” Spencer rambled onto the top of your head, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine.

“ ‘M not stressed. Not anymore.” you hummed into his neck, snuggling in closer than you thought possible. You could feel his pulse quickening slightly against your cheek, hear him swallowing with nervousness as you readjusted yourself; throwing a leg over his hip and latching onto him like a little koala. “Calm down Spence, I’m just getting comfy.”

“Sleep well Y/N.” He spoke so softly it almost lulled you into sleep. His breathing settled as yours did, the arm he had wrapped around your shoulder holding you tight. His other hand drawing lazy lines up and down your spine as he too adapted a comforting stimulation that was going to send him off too.

Spencer couldn’t help but think about how perfectly you slotted against his body, how much you felt like home. The sharp but sweet scent of your shampoo overloaded his senses and bypassed the oestrogen-filled attitude, the drop in energy and the rise in other types of tension. He would do anything you asked him to. But he was sure you didn’t know that. He was even surer that he wouldn’t tell you. Instead, he would appreciate the seconds, minutes and hours you spent together and let his mind drift off onto what the next day would bring him.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fic #fluff #criminal minds #feedback pls #i genuinely proofread this once and didn’t want to look anymore #i can’t remember how to write #so #i’m sorry in advance if this is gross #i love you all a lot #i missed you

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the-cat-at-the-theatre-door · 2 years

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Already put this in the tags of my previous post, but what the hay: a kittens’ first Jellicle Ball is a very hit or miss event for them, as excited as they often are for it.

While the *idea* of the Ball is grand and wonderful (especially from the stories they’re told and the wisps of it they are able to hear and, for the sneakier kittens, catch glimpses of from the nursery where they stay until they’ve reached their recital age), and something that really gets built up as a very big deal (particularly by their dance teachers), it’s a whole heck of a lot to handle sensory wise, and many of them can’t make it fully throughout the night without having some sort of issue (and this is to be expected - none of the adult cats expect first attendees to make it through the entire evening independently or without possible meltdown - and that’s perfectly alright).

The first quarter of the Ball is usually no problem for any of them - that’s the period they’re still running on adrenaline and excitement highs. But as the night wears on, it wears on them.

Etcetera spent the majority of her first Ball curled in either Jellylorum or Jennyanydots’ lap, very clearly still excited about what was going on (if the constant drumming of her heels against her moms’ shinbones was any indication), but who very easily panicked when someone she immediately knew wasn’t in direct sight or contact.

Electra ended up on piggy back of probably half the Tribe on the evening of her first Ball (because she was afraid of being trampled but she still wanted to *see* everything), asking every single question she could think of and getting *very* spooked at the thunderstorm that ended up breaking out that year.

Victoria spent her first Ball alternating between rushing out into the middle of the clearing, and hiding behind Munkustrap/clutched to his side because the visual stimulation coupled with the vibrations she could feel through the pavement sent her hackles on edge. He spent most of the evening rubbing her back and dragging her along as she clung to his leg (When she would motion to dance she’d step up on his paws until he’d twirl her around).

Pouncival was so excited, he ended up knocking his head on a bedframe within the first hour of the festivities, which forced him on the Tire by proxy for the rest of the evening, so he spent most of his first Ball dizzy and pouting and being fussed over.

Tumblebrutus ended up making it through most of his first Ball unscathed (though he didn’t wander too far from his dad and would clutch onto his tail when he got too overwhelmed), but he ended up falling asleep on Asparagus before the Jellicle Choice was made (he jokes to this day that he *still* doesn’t know who got to go).

Jemima had the complete opposite time - she got so overstimulated, twirling and running and shouting herself hoarse, that she was *overtired* and had the absolute *zoomies* all night and way into the early morning (and then was cranky all the remaining next day), much to the dismay of her very tired parents.

Sillabub ended up needing a break, paws over her ears, reaching borderline meltdown territory. Alonzo took her outside the clearing and walked her around in his arms quietly until she calmed down. She spent the rest of the night with Demeter playing Cats Cradle.

Bonus, further back still:

Tugger ended up in tears his first Ball because there was way too much going on and he had a full meltdown. He’d been *really* excited for his First (being one of those aforementioned kittens who attempted to stage a coup from the nursery to sneak out to see when he was too little), so it was a bit of a bummer for him. But he also ended up on the Tire and the cats who were there made the effort to cheer him up because they knew how excited he had been about it, and encouraged him to give it another go when he was ready. And after a couple rounds, he did.

Munkustrap *disappeared* during his first Ball, which was peculiar because Munkustrap never wandered off sans informing anyone where he was going. Turns out, he’d made the executive decision that he wasn’t ready to be there and he crawled back into the nursery den around 10PM. Deuteronomy found him curled up with Tugger (who had gawked at him and couldn’t believe he’d give up his first Ball!) and Jenny (who was babysitting) and the other kittens who were too little to go to the Ball yet.

#CATS Musical #my headcanons #lore headcanons #long post #i gotta start just making these their own posts - i never learn #i'm just imagining when like...children were taken to weddings and you would find them sleeping on chairs

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smellsfaintlyofvanilla · 3 years

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Headcannon of a poly relationship w fem Y/N, Mikasa, and Annie? Like the relationship dynamics and what a normal day would look like? If u include a NSFW dynamics I wouldn’t mind👀

BUT IF YOU DON’T HAVE TIME I COMPLETELY UNDERSTAND 💗💗💗 love ur posts and have a nice day😇💞

Sure thing anon! Also, thank you, and have a nice day as well!

Mikasa Ackerman x Reader x Annie Leonhart: HCs

AU: Canon

Warnings: None

(SFW)

Surprisingly, being in a relationship with these two can get quite hectic sometimes, despite the fact that they're both pretty calm people by themselves

They are fiercely protective over you sometimes. Even if you are just as good of a soldier as you are, they will be defending you left and right

They usually stick by your side during missions, making sure that the three of you are near each other at all times, that way you have each others' back

But they don't just defend you against titans, no, they will defend you against anyone

They show their protectiveness differently, though

Annie is generally more relaxed about it than Mikasa is, and on top of that, Annie is very physical when it comes down to it, but Mikasa is more verbal about it

For instance, if a training partner is being too rough on purpose, it wouldn't be a surprise for Annie to quietly ask to speak with them after practice, only to show up to breakfast with a black eye the next morning

Or, if, heaven forbid, someone else start coming on to you, Mikasa will pull them aside for a stern talking to, telling them to back off. And, since it's Mikasa, they always listen

Even Instructor Shadis isn't safe. If they feel he's being a little too hard on you during training, one or both of them will talk to him, using their wits to convince him that you're in no fit to keep training for the day, and then joining you in bed once he excuses you

After a while, people start to learn that it's best to stay on good terms with you, unless they want to make enemies with two of the strongest soldiers in the 104th

Though, they are great listeners when it comes down to it. If you think they're being a bit too overbearing, they'll back off

They both love you and respect you a lot, and would hate to do anything against your wishes

They're both very aloof people, but around you (in private, that is) they're both really soft

Mikasa's love language is quality time, so you can expect her to be near you at most times, reminding you of her presence every now and then just to remind you that she's here for you. She doesn't need to say or do much, she just wants to be close to you, physically and emotionally

Meanwhile, Annie's love language is, surprisingly, physical touch. She'll constantly be having her shoulder up against yours, or her hand gripping yours, or, if you're really lucky, she'll show one of her rare moments of vulnerability, embracing you tightly and clinging onto you until she's satisfied

The three of you, while caring deeply about your friends, value the moments where you all get to be completely alone, not having to worry about the gazes of others on you

Cuddle piles (subsequently leading to long, comfortable naps) are quite common

Mikasa, being the nurturing type she is, will gently pull you and Annie closer into her sides, tucking yours or Annie's head onto her chest or into the crook of her arm, keeping you warm and close to her

It's at these moments, too, that Annie isn't afraid to seem vulnerable or meek, curling into Mikasa's side and draping an arm or a leg over the ravenette's body

Or, sometimes, if either Mikasa or Annie isn't present, the other one will pull you to rest against their chest, letting you fall asleep against them while they wait patiently for the other one to show up

Sometimes, though, when they do show up, they'll take a short moment to fawn over your sleeping form, discussing how cute you look when you sleep, and how lucky they are to be in a relationship with both you and the other

As I've mentioned a little earlier, Mikasa is the nurturing one of you three

If you or Annie get hurt, she's at their side at an instant, treating their wounds with such a gentle touch, as if her lover was made of glass, and would break at any touch just a tad too harsh

Sometimes, Annie gets insecure about your relationship, feeling like she isn't great at opening up and showing emotions/vulnerability, and that the two of you seem so much more content when she isn't around

Which leads you and Mikasa to share a quick glance before you rush over to comfort her, hugging her gently and whispering just how much she means to you both

And that was the first time either of you—or anyone for that matter—had seen Annie cry.

But neither of you make any huge notice of it, instead just pulling her closer, wiping her tears away with your hands

A daily routine between the three of you always starts very early in the morning, due to Annie's habit to always get some running in before training starts

And, within about a week of dating her, Mikasa joined her

You were... less enthusiastic about waking up early just to exercise, so often, you would just stay in bed

And, ever since you made it clear that you prefer the extra hour of sleep over a run in the early morning hues of dawn, they started to speed their run up, taking it from a light jog to a running pace, just so they can get back to the barracks to spend an extra thirty minutes in bed with you before the official wake-up time

During breakfast time, you'll usually sit with Eren and Armin, just so Mikasa can spend some time with her friends (which is surprisingly scarce between her relationship and her training/duty as a soldier), though sometimes you'll let Annie sit with Reiner and Bertholdt. She never really says much at all to the two, but you know she likes to be in their presence sometimes, so you and Mikasa never pestered her about it

Unfortunately, the three of you are seldom ever partnered with each other, but more often than not, you'll be able to pester Shadis into letting you three train together

In that case, you usually forgo the actual instructions in favor of Annie teaching you and Mikasa her martials arts technique

After a long day of training, the three of you will often go straight to bed, too exhausted to do anything else, but sometimes, you'll sneak out after dark to spend a little quality time together

Usually, you do something simple and relaxing, just enough to truly unwind you from the days activities

Sometimes you'll go for a walk, other times you'll climb up onto the roof to stargaze, or sometimes you'll even just huddle up under a tree for a while

But no matter what it is, there's always a conversation

Since moments alone like this are few and far between, the three of you take the time to talk about anything and everything

The future, the present, or even the dark past they both seemed to share

You'll discuss plans for the future, about where you'll go and what you'll do if you ever retire from the military

And, seldom does it happen, but Mikasa might even bring up the idea of starting a family of your own someday

Though, with death looming so threateningly over you three at all times, it's best not to humor the idea

Still, you appreciate all moments together like this, because they truly love you and love each other more than words can express

(NSFW)

In the bedroom, things can get really heated between the three of you, considering both Annie and Mikasa are very passionate lovers

It's not something they can devote time to everyday, so when you do get down to it, you'll probably be at it for a while

As for how things get started, it's surprisingly a bit of exhibitionism

Just because they're lovers doesn't mean they still have a playful rivalry between the two of them

So, if one of them is in the mood, they'll try to isolate you and start eating you out or fingering you, just waiting until the other one inevitably walks in and joins you

Which often leads to little contests about who can please you more/give you more orgasms

Which is all well and good for you, until they get a little too into it, leaving you helplessly overstimulated without them even realizing it, with Annie's fingers in your cunt and Mikasa rubbing at your clit

But, most of the time, sex involves all three of you equally

Annie tends to be a service top most of the time, perfectly content with eating you or Mikasa out for hours, even if she doesn't actually get to come that night

Mikasa does top sometimes, but tends to be a little bit more submissive

Especially when it's just her and Annie, Annie will almost always top

But either way, they both have one shared desire—having you be in the middle of them

Since they are both very giving women, they love to please you and have you be the center of attention during sex

One of the most common positions, for example, has you situated on your back, while Mikasa rides your face and Annie hikes a leg over her shoulder and scissors you

That one almost always leaves a mess, but they get too caught up in the moment to care

Speaking of mess, Annie is a shameless lover of cum. There, I said it

Mikasa on her own is already a squirter, but if you are too, she just loses it

She loves when you come hard and squirt everywhere. She will 100% lick it off of you

In a modern AU, I imagine both of them being really fond of toys

Annie's strap game would be IMMACULATE

She would always have just the right pace as she sits you down in her lap, forcing you up and down on the silicone cock as it splits you open mercilessly

Meanwhile, Mikasa is a huge fan of vibrators, both on her and you

She loves when the two of you sit really close together, just enough so that she can stick a vibrator between you two so it stimulates both of your clits at once

I also have a feeling that they would make you wear those vibrating panties, then go out in public and take shifts with the remote

But they don't want to actually get caught doing it, so after about 30 minutes of torturous on and off vibrations, they just take you into an empty restroom just to finish you off quickly

I also have a feeling that Annie would kinda get off to watching you and Mikasa go at it without her

Like, she'd stand over you two and tell you exactly what to do to each other, and shamelessly start fingering herself as she watches

But, after quite a few rounds, you three would be way too tired to continue, eventually just collapsing right where you were

Mikasa would 100% be the queen of aftercare

Like, as soon as you and Annie are done, she'll be up to grab anything either of you need

Something to drink? A light snack? Something to clean up with? She has whatever you need

"Are you thirsty? Hang on baby, I'll go to the kitchen. Need anything else while I'm there?"

And she's so gentle with it, too

She does get a little embarrassed, though, having to take the dainty little napkin and wiping it over your cunt and the inside of your thighs to clean up all the mess you made

But, once she's satisfied with how you two are feeling, she'll lay down right next to you, pulling you or Annie into her chest, clinging onto them protectively

Which leads to the other one inevitably shuffling over to Mikasa's side as well, not wanting to miss out on the post-sex cuddles

What can you say? She's a great cuddler

And then, finally, you enjoy the gentle moment between you and your lovers, your eyes slowly closely as sleep overtakes you

I might have just written more NSFW than I did SFW... and if so, I don't know whether to be more disappointed or impressed by myself.

#aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #mikasa ackerman #annie leonhart #mikasa ackerman x reader #mikasa x reader #annie leonhart x reader #annie x reader #annie x reader x mikasa #mikasa x reader x annie #annie leonhart x reader x mikasa ackerman #mikasa ackerman x reader x annie leonhart #that's a lot of tags dammit >:[

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mbti-notes · 2 years

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Anon wrote: Hi! What is important in a night routine? My problem is that I go to bed too late because I can rationalize like everything I want to do right now to think it is worth to do it, and in the moment I never see that it will affect my sleep or take more time than I thought.

I have tried some night routines ideas and it works for some days (I sleep so much better when it works and my days are unbelievable better when I’m not a zombie) and then I stop sticking to it. I’m esfp. It’s harder to stick to if I am stressed and don’t like my days. If I have felt bored and feel like my morning will be boring the last thing I want is to go to bed to wake up to the new day. (and first pack bag, switch clothes, brush teeths = not fun if you’re very tired). And I easily follow anything that attracts me.

I think I must have better emotional intelligence, if I had that before bed I would not do things without knowing why, (like I would not let the emotions go unaddressed and escalate to behaviours, that then make me have no control of going to bed in time). Also I would probably not fear that my days will be boring if I payed attention to and cared about my emotions more.

Also I should plan better so that I don’t feel as stressed about school and don’t do too much schoolwork. I think I really need a night routine and I think I will be able to make a night routine and follow it If I don’t give up. But what is important in a night routine? Thank you so much!

--------------------------

When you have to get up at a specific time, sleep hours are limited and precious, so you don't want to waste any. A night routine should help and is simple in theory. You should take a minimum of 30 minutes (45-60 is better) to mentally and physically wind down before bed time. Consider it as preparation for sleeping well. You purposefully put everything into "rest mode" so that you get in touch with how tired you really are, which then encourages sleep to come.

Athletes know that they should warm up their muscles before intense exercise because it helps them perform better and prevent injury. Similarly, getting quality, refreshing sleep requires that you prepare your mind and body for quickly falling into a state of deep sleep. If you are too restless when falling asleep, your sleep remains shallow and easily interrupted (e.g. by ambient noise or disturbing dreams). You will continue to feel restless in early sleep stages, which stalls your brain from entering deeper rejuvenation processes.

Resting yourself in preparation for sleep should be accomplished from two directions:

eliminate all sources of stimulation, i.e., anything that makes you feel more active, engaged, or excited (common sources of stimulation include: electronic screens, chatting with friends, physically pleasurable activities like eating)

do things that help calm your emotions, quiet your thoughts, and relax your body (common methods include: breathing, calm music, meditation, light stretching, massage, warm bath, reciting or counting)

Different people find different things stimulating and relaxing, so experiment to discover what works best for you. For example, as esfp, isolating yourself in a quiet environment with no stimulation might be enough to quickly make you feel tired, whereas an introvert might actually find it stimulating to sit alone and entertain their own thoughts.

You have also raised many points which go beyond the night routine itself, into what it takes to maintain the routine. This is a deeper issue. It sounds like you've made some progress already, in that you understand the importance of a good night's sleep and how it helps you feel good and perform better during the day -> that's always the goal to keep in mind.

Yes, emotional intelligence does play an essential role in maintaining healthy routines. Poor emotional intelligence means that you're more easily stressed. Feeling stressed makes you far more distractible from your routines. For esfps, this is related to Fi development. You have to value your emotional life, listen to it, and care for it well. This reduces the instances of your emotions getting out of your control and driving you to do things you'll regret. From a good foundation of healthy Fi self-care, you will make far better decisions for your well-being. Before you do something, ask yourself: Okay, doing this feels good now, but will I also feel good about it afterward? Is this good for my overall well-being?

Two emotions that often interfere with sleep are boredom and anxiety:

1) Boredom is feeling uninterested or disengaged. This means that too few of your activities are meaningful, i.e., serving a deeper existential purpose. Boredom is common for Se doms and it often creates a vicious cycle of chasing more and more stimulation, because one's tolerance for it only grows and knows no bounds.

If you don't want boredom to stress you out and run your life, you have to confront the roots of it in your personality. Se doms want life to be easy and fun, but you must accept that there is more to life than that. There are deeper concerns in life that must be attended to, such as whether your activities actually make you feel fulfilled. Ask yourself: Does my lifestyle allow me to feel proud of who I am? Am I making some valuable contributions to the world around me?

Life cannot only be lived for oneself. This is true for everyone. Boredom arises when one's lifestyle is too small/self-centered/shallow in scope. Therefore, to address boredom in a healthy way, you must look at the bigger picture of your life and make more conscious choices about how you spend your time, in terms of whether your activities feel meaningful to you. Ideally, activities should feel both fun and meaningful.

We all have things that we "must" do in the course of a day, such as work, study, or look after kids, etc. Boredom also arises when you resist your duties - this is self-inflicted pain. Duties are a necessity. Accept them, when you cannot change them. What you can always change is your perspective. Always make an effort to view your duties in a positive light. Think of all the GOOD that comes from performing your duties, rather than fixating on the bad. If you genuinely cannot think of anything good that comes out of doing your duty, then perhaps it is worth re-evaluating your commitment to it or re-examining why you're really doing it. Sometimes, de-stressing involves "subtracting", i.e., letting go of the things that serve no other purpose but to drag you down.

Additionally, you can try to think of new and more interesting ways of performing your duties. Just because you have to do something, doesn't mean you have to do it in the most boring way possible. I'll give you a small example from my own life. I dislike cleaning but I'm a neat freak. I make cleaning more tolerable and enjoyable by multi-tasking, thus, increasing the rewards. I love to explore new music but I rarely have time to sit through albums and albums just to find the few songs I like. So, what I'll do is randomly throw a ton of new music into a playlist and listen while I clean. Mentally sorting through the music as I go allows me to ignore the unpleasant aspects of cleaning. In the end, I'm rewarded with a clean home and a great playlist.

2) Anxiety is about anticipating a negative future. Humans evolved anxiety because some hesitation is smart for survival. You can't always be leaping before looking, if you hope to stay alive. In modern times, anxiety prompts you to prepare well for facing your challenges. However, anxiety can become maladaptive when it prevents you from doing the things you should be doing to live a healthy lifestyle.

There are many possible sources of anxiety. If you are unable to precisely pinpoint and name the source(s) of your anxiety, it's hard to discover the right method of resolving it. For example:

reasonable anxiety: feeling worried about something that would make most reasonable people anxious, such as having to give a big speech or presentation

performance anxiety: worrying about performing a task poorly

fear of failure: anxiety about not achieving important life goals

anticipatory anxiety: struggling/dreading because you feel unprepared to face up to a coming challenge or difficulty

social anxiety: ruminating about social interactions or worrying about the status of your relationships

catastrophizing: anxiety due to imagining and worrying about all the possible ways things could go wrong for you

compulsiveness: anxiety related to feeling lack of control

obsessiveness: engaging too intensely and unproductively with the thing that you believe causes/fuels your anxiety

post-traumatic stress: anxiety due to replaying or not being able to move forward from a very negative past event

existential anxiety: ruminating on whether you/your life matters

generalized anxiety: feeling anxious about nothing in particular or everything in general, unable to pinpoint the root cause (usually requires therapy)

Half the battle in improving emotional intelligence is practicing acceptance of feelings and emotions. It's okay to feel anxious. What matters is your attitude toward it. The second you don't want to feel something, that feeling will grow and haunt you even more intensely. Simple uneasiness need not turn into something worse than what it is, if you have the self-awareness to soothe it early on.

Unfortunately, anxiety before sleep tends to escalate very quickly because your mind is not in a good position to handle it. When you're winding down to sleep, your brain's executive functioning is shutting down, which means you have lower self-awareness and your emotions loom much larger than they really are. Thus, you no longer have access to all the psychological resources that would normally allow you to soothe anxiety when you're at your best. Tell yourself that it's not the right time to face the problem. Tell yourself that being well-rested means you'll have full resources to tackle the problem appropriately later. Tell your anxiety that you see it and accept it and you will address it at the right time. Unless someone's literally gonna die, there's nothing that can't wait a few hours.

#sleep #esfp #auxiliary fi #stress #boredom #anxiety #physical health #emotional intelligence #mental health #ask

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gingersnaaps · 3 years

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at your window

hanahaki: the fictional disease where a person, afflicted by unrequited love, grows flowers in their lungs and stomach. unless the love is reciprocated, the disease will grow fatal. there's one workaround, though - one that issei matsukawa is very interested in: the plant can be physically removed.

wc: ~3.8k

tags/tw's(PLEASE PLEASE READ): n*fw, masturbation only(no sex), stalking, snuff, gore, blood, yandere!matsukawa, sorta necro(attraction but not sex), noncon filming, fem!reader but no mention of genitals

a/n: for @suedebunn's april showers collab // this is the most self-indulgent thing i've ever written and i spent way too long on it. it's supposed to lean towards horror?

i don't want minors interacting with my content

March 8th, 2013

[12:47 am]

The longer Issei sits outside your window, the harder it becomes to stop himself.

His face is pressed up against the dusty glass pane, peering inside at the outline of your sleeping body, and he finds that he can’t help but fixate on it. You look so peaceful, so tranquil, completely at rest as your mind flits between the shadowy realms that dreams inhabit.

He wonders what kind of wonderland you’re in right now - if it’s cotton-candy pink and delightful, just like you, or dark and hazy and spun with danger.

You’d look beautiful in any setting, he thinks, and finds his hand inadvertently drifting downwards.

His gaze rakes over the rise and fall of your chest, taking in the flashes of bare skin where your sheer nightgown rides up, his breath catching as his palm glides over his clothed cock. The friction feels so good - there’s no question that he wants this, needs this - and he wastes no time unzipping his pants and reaching in to free his dick. He doesn’t need to fantasize much, not when you’re mere feet away, instead making sure he sears every detail of your sleeping form into his mind: your fluttering eyelashes, your shallow breaths, the soft glow of your skin in the moonlight.

Issei quickens his pace, stroking up and down the shaft of his cock with purpose, thumb flicking over the slit. His breath huffs against the glass, clouding the surface until it’s dripping with condensation, but he still sees you as clear as day in his mind even as the real image of you blurs. You’re blissed out and relaxed, shoulders free of tension, your lips curving slightly into a smile.

He closes his eyes, rolling his head back as he works his cock, every single brush of his fingers leaving him twitching with sensitivity. You look like an angel, picture-perfect and frozen in time and consciousness, as if you were a framed picture or a museum exhibit preserved just for Issei to admire. Just for Issei. He lets out a quiet groan at the thought as he cums, his hips stuttering and cock jerking up.

You turn over fitfully in your sleep.

Looking down at the cum dripping off his fingers, he wants nothing more than to crawl in through your window and wipe it on your face. It’s an unmistakable mark of ownership, a sign that you belong to him alone, but he hesitates. He’s a bit of a shy guy, you see.

He can wait.

March 14th, 2013

[10:01 pm]

He has to conceal himself a bit better tonight than he would on his normal visits. This time, he’s a bit early, and you’re still awake.

His back is up against the siding of your house, right beside your window, but he can still see you in the periphery of his vision. You’re sitting at your desk, bathed in the warm light of your desk lamp, hunched over some math worksheet and scribbling furiously with the pencil in your hand.

Forget the moon; you glow even prettier as the world around you fades to dark.

Just like every other night, he takes in every detail meticulously. Your hair is messier than it was the previous day - maybe you hadn’t washed it in a while? He doesn’t mind, because it’s endearing when you’re messy and imperfect, barefaced in your pajamas, a little rough around the edges.

He thinks it’s similar to the way you’d look after being fucked stupid, if he closed his eyes and tried to picture you being ruined.

Issei tries very hard to ignore the way his cock strains in his pants at the thought.

March 23, 2013

[11:30 pm]

The mild spring breeze carries the sweet scent of fresh blossoms and green grass, leaving behind the wintry chill that he had to shiver through each night to be at your side - well, as close by your side as he could get.

These little visits have become a part of his life now, as ingrained as waking up in the morning or eating three times a day. It’s comforting for him to watch you from his spot outside your window each night, admiring you as you go about your nighttime routine, puttering from your desk to your bathroom to your bedroom.

He’s started to take some pictures, maybe even a shaky, pixelated video or two, just to tide him over when he’s alone by himself. They’re no replacement for the real thing, obviously, but it’s enough for him to be able to carry around a reminder of the way you look and sound all the time, even if it’s just a shadow of what you’re like in person. He’ll scroll through his camera roll, fingers trembling with excitement, hissing as he brings his hand down to stroke at his cock.

It’s always better in person, though. He sees you more clearly, hears the sound of your voice muffled through the walls, and most of all, he’s closer to you.

Issei likes to make it last, likes to prolong the pleasure as much as possible, so he always starts off with slow, gentle, pumps, gliding up and down his cock with his index finger and thumb curled into a circle. It’s honestly a miracle how you haven’t noticed yet, because he always tends to lose himself after he starts.

Face pressed close against the window in order to get the best view possible, his warm huffs of breath cloud up the cold glass as he strokes himself faster. His eyes rolling back into his head, his two digits of measured stimulation give way quickly to full, hard, pumps of his cock until soft moans start to spill from his mouth.

It’s hard to resist when you’re right there.

Tonight, you’re sprawled out on your bed, phone held above your face as you chat with your friend on video call. You’re shaking with laughter at some silly joke your friend’s telling, head thrown back and chin tilted upwards, face shining with joy, and he suddenly feels a warm, warm feeling of arousal course through him.

Seeing you happy turns him on, makes his cock so hard even though he just came minutes prior.

The sound of your voice carries through the walls, carefree and bright, chattering on and on about some assignment - or maybe it’s a complaint about the teacher, he’s not too sure - and he smiles contentedly at your silly little worries. Too cute, really.

You suddenly cough.

It’s an ugly sound, dry and strangled, and he cringes at the way your body tenses up and shakes. The coughing fit feels far longer than it actually is; every second of your hacking and wheezing is compounded by the panic gripping him. He watches, helpless, as your face turns ashen and grey, his heart seizing with dread and pounding in his chest.

It’s over as quickly as it begins.

You smile weakly, brushing it off as you apologize to your friend, but he can’t shake the uneasy feeling that settles at the pit of his stomach. He tugs up his pants, bare thighs and dick feeling awfully exposed in the night wind, and scurries back home. Maybe another night, then.

April 1st, 2013

[12:09 am]

You’re not in your room today.

Issei leans his head against the cold glass of your windowpane, hands shoved into his jacket, his mind clouding at the edges and overrun with possibilities. He doesn’t recall seeing you making plans with friends the previous night, and there’s not much you could be really doing right now - you have no boyfriend, no plans that he knows of, no real reason to just be gone.

He’s always thought of himself as a calm person. He doesn’t fall victim to temporary urges and flights of emotion the same way that Oikawa or Iwaizumi might, doesn’t do anything reckless on whims he knows will disappear just hours later.

But there’s just something about you that always makes him lose himself, isn’t there?

The window is fogged up with condensation, obscuring his view inside your room. He reaches out the sleeve of his jacket, wiping away the dew clinging to the surface, and squints as he tries to make out the scene in the dim lighting.

On the floor, awash in a pool of moonlight, lies a yellow flower petal spattered with blood.

April 4th, 2013

[4:46 am]

Issei’s not stupid.

He knows what the flower petal means, knows what your sickness means. He’s read about it in books, heard the tales from his parents friends, the whispered legends and hushed myths that make one thing clear:

You belong to someone else.

It’s a thought that fills him with revulsion. You already have Issei; is he not enough for you? Are you such a whore that his devotion falls short of what you’re so clearly greedy for?

He’s stopped restricting himself to just his nightly visits. They’re not enough, not when he can’t seem to go five minutes without his thoughts inevitably drifting to you - you in your fluttery, sheer nightgown, lying in your bed, your frame growing sicker and frailer as the blood drains from your cheeks and your coughing fits grow more frequent.

You can hide it from the prying eyes of your friends at school, from your teachers, even from your parents(as long as you make sure to roll your eyes a few times and lean into that murky, illusory persona of teenage angst), but here in your bedroom, your sanctuary, all your vulnerabilities crawl out and bubble to the surface, bared to your four off-white walls and his eyes only.

You can’t hide this from Issei; not the symptoms, and certainly not the disease.

He sets his alarm every day early enough to hear the nighttime croaking of frogs, the shrill, insistent chirping of cicadas, hours before the sky bleeds daylight, making his way over to your house. He stands outside, silent, his fingers pressed up against the window.

He doesn’t know why he goes anymore. You look ugly when you’re sick. Your healthy complexion has given way to grey, and his dick goes limp every time he tries to jerk himself off. It’s a reminder of the fact that he can’t ever have you the way he used to dream about: lively, healthy, and wholly devoted to him and him alone.

At this point, the pictures and videos of you are the only thing he has left, a pitiful reminder of everything you used to be. He has no use for those other girls from porn sites online, or even the scantily clad social media posts of his classmates. Issei only wants you, but you aren’t quite who you used to be, and every time he trudges home after staring through that stupid window, there’s always a bitter aftertaste in his mouth that makes his blood curdle.

It’s not that he’s jealous, exactly. He doesn’t really give a fuck who you’re pining after, because it’s you he cares about. He wants to own you, to possess your body, mind, and soul, wants you to end up at his side one day, acknowledging him with tears brimming in your lovely eyes, voice raw and hoarse as you chant thank you Issei, thank you, thank you for watching over me, Issei, i’m yours, Issei, i love you, Issei

Maybe it’s no wonder he can’t stop thinking about you.

April 19th, 2013

[11:52 pm]

He finds you passed out on the floor, surrounded by crumpled piles of faded carnation petals. They’re a sickly yellow, browning at the edges, tinged with blood and vomit and spit. It’s a scene straight out of a movie, illuminated by the waning moon, the cold, pale, uneven light casting shadows that dance across your body.

April 24th, 2013

[2:03 am]

Issei is nothing if not a practical man. If there’s a problem, he’s going to fix it.

He’s had enough of waiting, anyway.

April 25th, 2013

[12:00 am]

He’s never actually been inside your room before. It’s eerily quiet, save for your shallow, rapid breaths, all outside noises absorbed by the walls and curtains. It almost feels like he’s dreaming as he makes his way over to your bedside, his shadow stretching and bending in the distorted light like those funhouse mirror reflections.

Your lips are parted slightly, mouth agape as if in waiting, and he can’t help but run a finger along your cracked, ashen lips.

Issei shivers.

He’s never been quite so close to you before. It’s almost anticlimactic, the way he ends up at your side. He won’t lie; he had been hoping for a different ending, one with more sunshine and roses, one where you’d be smiling happily by his side as he tenderly holds your hand.

But he can’t change the way things are, and he’s more than willing to make the best of what he’s got.

He doesn’t have any surgical tools that might’ve been more fitting, but he supposes a kitchen knife - one he’d sharpened just yesterday - should work well enough. He runs a finger along the back of the gleaming metal, admiring the way it glints, brilliant and blinding, even in the midst of the dim room.

The old, worn, bed creaks beneath him as he climbs carefully on top of you, straddling your torso, taking care not to place too much pressure on your body. He reaches out to caress your face, brushing a loose strand of hair aside as he appraises you. In sickness, you were nowhere near as beautiful as you were before, but your proximity almost makes up for it; Issei can feel your heart thrumming beneath your skin, can feel the huff of your breath on his hand as your chest rises and falls.

He almost regrets having to do this.

Bringing the blade up to your chest, he begins to cut through your paper-thin nightgown. As the fabric rips, it falls to either side to reveal your chest, and his breath catches. The soft curve of your tits are stained with red, little green buds of growth peeking out from your chest and between your ribs. Blood blooms across your skin, thorns and stems pricking out from the smooth surface of your skin, standing out in stark relief as the sick, twisted, unnatural growth threatens to burst out of your body.

He flutters his fingers along your delicate skin, trailing gentle touches down your stomach, completely absorbed in the way you look and feel.

So absorbed, in fact, that he almost doesn’t notice the way you tense, eyes blinking awake, as pain lances through your body.

Issei’s quick, though - far quicker than you, at least, and by the time you open your mouth to scream, fear catching in your throat, he shoves a large hand over your mouth to muffle any of the unpleasant noises that threaten to spill out.

“Shh,” he whispers, voice hoarse and foreign in his own chest. He’s not used to speaking to you. “If you don’t hold still, it’s going to hurt even more.”

You freeze in terror at the implications of his words, eyes catching on the blade pointed at your chest. There’s a sudden urge to lash out, to fight back - but it quickly passes. You’re not stupid.

You know that he’s far stronger than you, far faster, and as his calm, remorseless gaze latches onto your body, you realize very quickly that any resistance would be futile.

He begins his work as soon as he feels you go limp beneath him. You’re still trembling slightly, shivering from both the fear and the cold, completely exposed, completely at his mercy. You’re still not sure who he is; maybe you’ve caught a glimpse or two of him in your classes in the past, but for the most part, he’s still a complete stranger.

Issei, on the other hand, knows you very well.

As the knife slips beneath your soft flesh, your bed quickly turns into a sea of scarlet, of vermilion and ruby, of wine-red blood that grows from a trickle to a stream to a rushing, spurting mess that stains your sheets and spills onto the floor. He can feel the spatters of your blood on his face, his clothes, can see the periphery of his vision growing red as the blank, white walls turn crimson.

He finds it’s a bit difficult to hold himself back.

Cutting you up feels like catharsis to him. He’s never seen you quite like this before, but he thinks this version of you looks very pretty, your eyes rolling back into your head, your chest shaking uncontrollably as he rips his knife through your flesh over and over again. A small, barely audible whimper slips from your lips, and he feels a shuddering mix of pleasure and revulsion wash over him.

The stark white of your bone peeks through the ripped, bloody mess. Perhaps he’s finally gone far enough.

There’s no slit or hole for him to find - he wasn’t quite so careful - but he reaches a hand in to dig around at what used to be your stomach, and begins to pull out the flowers from the roots. They’ve spread to your lungs, climbed almost all the way up your throat, the green stems and yellow flowers twisting and threading between your organs and ribs. He removes them one by one, meticulous and careful, tossing them aside as he searches and prods and kills every last trace of your disease.

The lungs are by far the hardest for him, the branches of tissue packed densely with blood vessels and capillaries, and he has to pry the clusters apart to remove the growth that’s embedded itself within the organ.

If you think about it, he’s really doing you a favor.

A wave of relief courses through him when he’s finally finished. It’s unfortunate that it had to end this way, with your face screwed permanently into that pained, tortured expression, but it’s nothing he can’t fix - he brings a bloody finger up and adjusts your features until they resemble something slightly more pleasant.

There’s no heartbeat anymore, he realizes, no rhythm thrumming and pulsing beneath your skin.

He climbs off of you awkwardly, swinging his legs back over the bed. The quilt, pooled around your ankles, is still remarkably clean considering what the rest of the room had been through, and he pulls the soft, white cover over your mangled body until it comes up to your chin.

If he moves backwards a little and squints, it’s almost like you’re still asleep.

And if he tries really hard, uses his imagination to fill in the gaps and blot out the unnecessary bits, the blood smeared on your cheeks and lips almost seems like makeup, covering up that ugly, ashen complexion from your sickness, like a rosy imitation of what he used to find so beautiful.

Maybe it’s all in his mind, but he thinks you really do look better dead than sick.

He knows it’s not right.

He knows he shouldn’t.

He also can’t quite bring himself to care.

Cursing softly under his breath, he hand wanders until it finds the growing outline of the bulge in his pants. It feels so good to do it right in front of you, especially when you look better than he’d seen you in weeks(as long as he sort of squints), and he shudders with pleasure as he palms his cock slowly.

He usually likes to hold back a little, but there’s really no point this time - it’s the last time he’ll ever be this close to you, so he might as well make the best of it, right?

His cock is rock hard and dripping with precum by now, straining with arousal against the pressure of his fist, gliding and stroking along his curved, thick length until he begins to feel that warm heat coiling in his stomach. He kind of wishes that you were still alive to see him jerking off to your perfect face, pumping his cock desperately as he fixates on the fake blush of your skin. It’s almost exactly how you look before you fell sick - minus the gore splattered on your sheets, of course - as long as he pretends that you’re still breathing, that your pulse is still thrumming steadily beneath those soft, white quilts.

He fists his cock a bit faster, rhythm increasing as he feels his balls growing heavier, his dick flushed and desperate for release. Although he’s sad that you’d never be able to fully participate, he supposes it’s for the best.

Better dead than hung up on someone else, right?

As he turns his gaze back onto the flowers he’d ripped out from your chest cavity, he feels a perverse burst of pleasure coursing through him. He can’t help but feel proud of the way he’s made everything right, how he’d gotten rid of that annoying little crush you’d been harboring for weeks. If he closes his eyes, he can almost see the way you’re thanking him from the afterlife, tears of gratitude and joy in your eyes at the freedom he’s finally given you.

Issei finishes with a low, pleasured, groan, his cum spilling into his waiting hand as he strokes himself through his orgasm. It’s one of the strongest orgasms he’s had in quite some time, and he can’t help but think it’s the commemoration you deserve.

As the blood rushing in his eardrums slows, the hazy, uncertain world around him seems to stop spinning, and he feels himself being pulled back down from his high. If he strains his senses, he can hear the nighttime din through your walls, quiet and ever-present. He looks outside, the streetlamps flickering dimly, staring off into the inky stillness of the star-lit night.

Funny that he’s finally on the other side of your window.

Maybe he should leave you one last present.

April 26th, 2013

[9:00 am]

When they find you in your bed the next morning, your mother screams and your father cries.

They never saw it coming, did they? You were a good girl, someone who always did what they were supposed to do, said what others told them to say, acted exactly how they expected you to. Never got yourself into the slightest hint of trouble.

It’s a horrific scene: their precious daughter, limbs mangled and organs torn up, stomach and chest cut wide open as if straight from a horror movie. The room seems to swirl with hostility, and the four walls, once your sanctuary, had turned into an image of brutal, bloody, violence - with your body as the centerpiece.

It’s not until they step closer that they realize the dried, white, glaze on your face is cum.

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