#maybe one day I’ll be brave enough to post it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hazelfoureyes · 18 days

Text

⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania

˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2

˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦 (keep reading)

Alastor lets you leave the hotel! Together! For soup. Later, your plans to make Alastor lose his obsession backfire. But like, in a hot way so you’re not that mad about it. A+ for effort?

˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦

「warnings/promises: smut, I once again misuse a fucking prayer in a sacrilegious way, soup, spoon feeding, Angel texts, so much cum, bondage, tentacles, just good ole fashion fucking in the radio station, not quite dubcon but Alastor doesn’t really listen, hell has twitter and lets be real it’s just normal twitter, giant Alastor, Horse Luci」

Minors DNI ♥️ 🧹lovingly

You finally managed to leave the hotel. It was of course with Alastor at your side, microphone pressing into the small of your back like a third arm. It was as if he worried you’d just turn around and run.

He opened every door, pulled out your chair, and when your left hand shook and dropped your food he took on the task of feeding you. It was embarrassing, to say the very least. The sinners in the restaurant staring, a brave few filming or typing furiously on their phones.

You got a buzz on your own cell, a gift from Angel when he realized Alastor wouldn’t let you speak with others alone.

He texted a link to a post on some hell site, to a photo of you right then, at that exact moment, being spoon fed by the radio demon. You considered smashing your head into the table until you blacked out. If you got up and left would you make it back to the hotel before someone realized you weren’t a sinner? You were absolutely terrified of someone noticing you as heaven sent.

Heaven kicked? Heaven thrown. Yeah that one felt right.

“You need to eat. You can’t heal like this.” Alastor sounded concerned, but you fought the urge to care.

He hadn’t apologized to Husk, but Husk did say Alastor seemed to avoid eye contact which was basically a gift to him. Alastor had come to your room to dress you the next day as he always did, neither of you mentioning the day before. The hall was magically pristine by the time you left.

A tiny sliver of you thought he felt embarrassed. But decades of experience told you that Mania didn’t afford embarrassment, the stricken couldn’t be truly manic if something like that was holding them back.

Maybe it had been such a shallow cut he hadn’t gotten the full punch of Mania?

Another attempt to feed yourself, slowly bringing your spoon to your mouth, “You know when I heal I am going to finish my task and leave, right?”

An odd laugh, a non-existent tear wiped away, “Adorable. No. I promise you, that won’t happen.”

“Alastor.” You put the spoon down with a clink.

“I love when you say my name. May I offer you more reasons to hold it in your mouth?”

“Al-,” you groaned, “I can’t stay forever.”

He hummed, a show of pretending to think about what you said, “Wrong! You can. And I argue, you will.”

You tried again with the spoon, regretting soup. Your appetite had been shot for awhile and it seemed easy enough. Wrong. Again. There was a constant tremble to your hands since arriving. Perhaps experiencing pain for the first time was rattling your body so much that it couldn’t cope. “Why would I ever do that? This is literal hell.”

Alastor leaned over, taking the spoon from you with ease and bringing it to your mouth, “Because I’ll make you understand it’s where you belong. They didn’t appreciate you,” his grin widened, “Not like I do. Like I can, if you’d let me.”

Annoyed and flustered, you took the help to eat. “Thank you.” A spoonful, “How can you say that though? I’m the one and only Cupid.”

“Actually, no. You’re not. You are just the current incarnation. They’ll replace you.”

You regretted telling him that. They could. Just replace you, that is. There was nothing stopping them. You stared into your soup, lips curling down.

“Don’t look so defeated. I’ll make you happy, for eternity.”

Your eyes rolled. “When do you plan on starting that eternal happiness?”

You didn’t look at him when you said it, but you could see his hand slow, then become completely still. Had you wounded him?

He pivoted, “Doesn’t Cupid have wings?”

Another spoonful, “Of course.”

Alastor waited while you took a drink, determined to make you eat the entire bowl, “Where are they?”

A pause. Where were they? You hadn’t realized you couldn’t feel them. They weren’t everpresent, but their weight still sat between your shoulder blades at all times. Always. Normally. But now?

“You don’t know? That’s troubling.” Alastor read your face with ease.

You shot him a look. Stop doing that. Stop replying to unspoken thoughts.

“Apologies.”

Another text before you could snap at him.

You slid the phone away from Alastor, face red. “Do you think, honestly, if you’re capable of it, that I’ll ever be able to go home?”

His hand came to your neck, running over your collarbone, “For the record, I’ve never once lied to you.” You rolled your eyes, fine, okay, “With your heavenly body, even as weakened as you have been here, I’d say just a few more weeks.”

You turned the phone face down.

“Good…that’s good. If you plan on winning me over, your countdown has started.” You pushed the soup away, appetite gone. The idea of never returning to heaven made you nauseous. He slid it back to you, face stern despite the smile he wore.

The walk home was quiet, your stomach full of unwanted soup.

No, not home. The hotel.

He usually spoke a lot, clearly loving the sound of his own voice. His hand replaced the staff, settled on your back as he guided you. You could feel the warmth through your clothes. How could he be so hot and not be sweating? Another sinner thing?

The thought hadn’t left you by the time you came into view of the hotel gates. Maybe you had been replaced. How would you know? Maybe that was why your wings were gone. Surely there was some way to communicate from hell.

You found Lucifer as soon as you returned, unbothered by Alastor’s presence, “I need to speak to heaven.”

Alastor was saying something but you had gotten quite good at tuning him out. Lucifer snapped back, the men quickly devolving into arguing again.

“Lucifer.” You said it with your chest.

His apple topped cane whirled, a golden circle appearing with a crystal clear image of heaven’s glowing gates through its center.

A loud noise erupted behind you, a high pitched static wail, familiar tentacles flailed and a long shadow of a growing Alastor stretched across the wall. His back was bent into the lobby ceiling, perhaps three stories tall now.

The sounds of magic popping as Lucifer shapeshifted accented the sounds of horror with that of whimsy. You approached the portal, those black tendrils slithering around your ankles but you easily slipped out of them as their owner's energy was pulled to full demon Lucifer slamming into him.

Almost, you could see it.

A monstrously large hand came down, shaking the hotel and knocking various objects off their perches in the lobby. Charlie and Vaggie, someone else you’d come to enjoy the company of, flew down the stairs.

The common area was filled with the sounds of yelling and breaking glass. You crawled over his hand as Alastor’s fingers curled around your body gingerly. He tried to pull you from the gateway but while he slowed, Lucifer now a flying horse kicking him in the face, your outstretched hand strained to enter the portal.

Your fingers grazed the doorway, the air around the lobby fizzing and warping as a desperate screech tore from Alastor’s wide and impossibly thin chest. The grip tightened around you. A static whine threatened to pop your eardrums.

As your fingertips pressed past the ring, they stopped. Something impenetrable and unseen between you and heaven.

Alastor must have noticed it too, his grip loosening as you clamored on hand and knees to the portal. Your palm ran over the doorway, searching for a hole or seam to rip. Just under your skin was your home, bright and clean and painless. A tiny ��no’ fell from your lips, smacking at the barrier with your open hand.

Alastor returned to his normal, still terrifying, height. Lucifer came forward, their fight losing motivation, his small hand on your shoulder as you sat on the hotel lobby floor. He closed the portal and apologized, “Sorry kid. Let’s try again when you finish that task, okay?”

Alastor’s arms went under your back and knees and lifted you off the ground. You didn’t resist or argue. Your eyes were unfocused, vision blurry with tears, as you were carried past the others. Vaggie looked ashamed, which was odd given she had more character than half the archangels could muster together between them.

There existed permissions for who could enter the heavenly realm, a list meticulously kept. They’d removed you from that roster. They’d locked the doors behind you.

You felt good. The final week of your first, and hopefully last, month in hell was marked with taking off your sling for the first time.

A good three day wallow in a metaphorical cave helped you emerge with renewed vigor. Of course they locked the gates behind you, otherwise you’d just go home. That made sense. That made sense.

That had to make sense.

Deciding to take a risk and attempt to expedite your homecoming, you and Angel made plans. Like a teenager in a party movie you snuck out of the hotel when Alastor was asleep. Well, so you assumed. You weren’t really sure what he did behind closed doors.

Angel brought you somewhere he felt people would be receptive to discussing love and talking to angelic beings, and admittedly also very high.

Sling off but still being as gentle as you could, you leaned across the small standing-only table to talk-shout with a rather cute aquatic demon. An eel? Or maybe some kind of water-fond lizard? It didn’t matter, his glasses were cute, both of you a little drunk, and you quite good at saying the right things.

And all of the right things were said, and you felt maybe if nothing else you’d enjoy your first demonic lay, when the power shut off.

Everyone filed out, bummed and bothered to find most of the neighborhood shrouded in darkness.

Angel tapped your shoulder and pointed up the hill to the hotel, radio station a glow with a red light, “Ya know, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Nothing to do but to stare, you stayed quiet and angry while he flagged down a taxi knowing the trip would be fast without traffic lights, “Guess Daddy Dead Eyes is calling you back.”

Anger grew and grew in your chest as you were charioted home.

Jesus, to the hotel. Stop doing that.

You burst into the radio station tower, Alastor barely reacting. Until, that is, you marched up to his desk.

Pinned before you could react, his body pressing into yours as your ass ran up onto the desk.

“Sneaking out like a child?” His voice was low, soft, unnatural. “Why do you intentionally torment me?”

“I have done,” you tried to move but only succeeded in rubbing your stomach against his crotch, “no such thing. You’re just possessed.”

He responded by pressing forward, no accident, as his eyes narrowed on you, “Correct. I am a man possessed.” When he rolled himself into you, an alcohol primed groan escaped your mouth.

“I thought you didn’t care about those things,” your eyes flashed to his lap pushing into you and then back to his glare.

“You’re my exception that proves the rule. If you’re so desperate for attention there’s no need to leave the hotel to find it.” His smile was poisoned by the simmering anger in his eyes, “Dear.”

It was the alcohol and annoyance at losing a chance with glasses-man, Jake or Jark or something not worth a scrabble move, that made you sneer a reply, “Not yours. I am a divine creature, demon. Your body would just filthy me.” Nose up, feeling absolutely better than him in every sense, you pushed him off and left.

That was easy. Wow.

Proud of yourself, you made it to the elevator before you realized— illusions. Perhaps his illusion was the idea sex with you was worth the effort, more so than others. He said it himself before, he didn’t care for such things. Perhaps if you could show him it was as boring and unattractive as sex with anyone else could be, maybe you could shatter his mania with disappointment.

You pulled a u-turn and heel-toed right back into his station. Giving him no time to react this time, you climbed onto his chair and straddled him, “On second thought, try your worst. Let’s get it out of your system and move on.” You ground your hips down. He only smiled up at you, amused. Taking his hands you set them on your waist, giving him permission to handle you, “Claim me. Make everyone know I’m yours.” He didn’t move. You were starting to feel embarrassed, had he goaded you just to make you look stupid? He would. But your kind invented the tension before sex between enemies, “If you can.”

That did it. His hair visibly stood on end, “It is not a matter of ability. It’s about-”

“If you can’t, that’s fine. No need to start lying to me now. But don’t say I never gave you the opportunity.” You smirked, hoping he enjoyed a taste of his own sardonic medicine, and lifted yourself off of him.

His hands came to life on your hips, helping you rise and then flipping you onto your stomach. Your arms pushed radio transmitters and various old timey fuckery away to make room for yourself.

Those talons slipped up the center of your bottoms and crooked into your underwear. Long and strong, his fingers felt you. “Is this a perk of a heavenly body or is this,” two fingers dipped into your already wet and relaxed entrance, “all for me?”

You fought the urge to respond with anything other than malice, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

In heaven no one needs preparation, no one needs lube or required stretching to keep things whole and fun. You would love to say that quality followed you down, but unfortunately, like perfect health and angelic wings, it had not.

You decided to chalk it up to the alcohol. Always an easy excuse to offer yourself.

Alastor’s hands pulled away and up, finding the place just above the Rosie’s Emporium clothing tag and ripping the bottoms and underwear clean in half.

You bit into your hand to keep your excited shriek to yourself but unfortunately couldn’t stop your legs kicking up. His laugh echoed off the many windows.

Why couldn’t he be worse at this? Why couldn’t Alastor be clumsy and meek and awkward at sex? No, the menace you’d gotten almost used to was confident and commanding, you felt yourself twitching in anticipation. People have a misconception that Cupid was a chaste and wholly emotional creature, which was false. First of all, Cupids varied based on the incarnation. Just like other heavenly creatures their personality was varied and unpredictable.

Personally, you weren’t suited for the job. If you were honest. Why couldn’t your quiver just be full of Eros and Agape? Even of those two, sexual love was more your speed. Romance was fine and lovely but perhaps you’d gotten a little jaded.

Luckily for you, fucking Cupid was something many winners had on their afterlife bucket lists and you rarely found yourself with an empty bed.

Your attention was stolen back, Alastor’s clawed hand grabbing at the flesh of your thighs, “Oops.”

Focus. Why were you doing this again? Your system was metabolizing the alcohol now, and with the air cooling off your exposed sex, everything was awash with lust. Did you want to diminish his mania or were you just horny?

Would it really be so bad to admit you were both?

Deep breath, you remembered. Boring. Banal. The plan was to be motionless and not provide him any satisfying sounds. Don’t touch him, don’t try to push back on him, no tricks or fancy shit. The sooner he was over this you could make someone trust in love and fuck off home.

Seconds turned to a minute, your ass in the air as Alastor’s hands pawed at your skin. You wanted to ask what the hold up was, but you didn’t want to give away how much you were needing him to just fuck you already.

“Do you miss flying?”

You looked around, were you so drunk you missed an entire chunk of conversation while thinking about how to hide thirsting for his dick?

“Yes…?” True statement.

“Allow me to help with that.”

There was a moment you half expected to be chucked out the window, but almost worse than that, you heard him seat himself in the chair again before your body was picked up and off the desk. “Alastor! I don’t-,” Hands flailing, feet moving around the best they could, you struggled against the familiar tentacles he had command over. “I do not allow it!”

Your hands batted at them fruitlessly. One came under your knees and folded them to either side of your chest before wrapping around your waist twice, a second across your chest like a seatbelt snug and secure. Had you been on the floor you could almost be mistaken for taking a deeply devout praying stance. Only your arms were free to move, the position making you open and incapable of taking back any semblance of control.

“Alastor!” Stretching, you could almost reach the edge of his work table, but your fingers and toes curled in as you were seated on something hot and stiff. Your lips quivered, desperate to keep silent as you were pulled down onto him. Reaching back your hands found his stomach, raking your nails across the skin in need of anything to grip.

When you heard him chuckle to himself, you knew you were already losing. Plan backfiring entirely. You pulled your hands back to your center, taking ahold of the tentacle nestled between and across your chest.

“Heavenly Father,” his voice was quiet but sure, your eyes so wide you worried you’d get stuck making a permanent face of utter shock and despair, “bless us and these thy gifts which we receive from thy bountiful goodness, through your name, our lord.” You were lifted off his lap, Alastor’s swollen tip dragging along your unstretched walls as he said the Lord's prayer, “Amen.” Pulled back down before the second syllable even reached your ears, you cut into your bottom lip as a scream bounced around behind your teeth.

Heathen.

“I would think you of all people knew how to finish a prayer.” Alastor chided, “What will heaven say?”

If heaven knew you were being impaled midair on an overlord’s cock, they’d create a second hell for you to rule. Population of none. Except maybe some horny nuns.

As he found a pace he seemed happy with, slow and long draws out of you, you realized how fucked you were. Looking down, you could see one of his hands was settled at the base of his cock, those long fingers draped down his balls. The other hand was unseen and unfelt.

“Alastor.” You tried to sound stern.

“Oh I doubt heaven knows my name. Not yet at least.” He sounded unbothered, almost unaffected. “Not until I’ve spirited away their little angel of love.”

You were almost insulted at how easily he could speak despite being buried so far into your wet, hot cunt. Maybe you had been spoiled in heaven, people usually so turned on by the idea of you that they were coming undone as soon as you were wrapped around them or in them in whatever way you decided.

A broken chant of “be bored, be bored,” in your mind as Alastor hummed, that mystery clawed hand falling at your back. Biting your lip, you tried to think about anything other than how full he was making you. Did the glasses man at the club have a cock as thick as Alastor’s? Would you have been as satisfied as you were now? Every down thrust made the tuft of fur at this base press against your ass. Soft. You wanted to grind against it, the idea pulling a wanton moan out.

Fuck. Failing to distract yourself because you got distracted. It was so hard to think about anything else than your body being pushed open again and again. The blood on your lips was sweet, licking them clean before finding a new spot to bite down on. Quiet.

“Ah, are you giving me the silent treatment?”

Could this son of a bitch read minds? Could sinners read minds?!

If you didn’t reply, that was confirmation. But if you did reply, you were breaking your goal of not talking.

“Just…,” you took a deep sigh, knowing this was going to be rough, “I’m not really feeling like making any noise.” A shrug, the best you could manage at least while bound and held aloft in the space above his lap. Pretending this was normal and boring was a feat. “I’m not a vocal person during sex. I prefer to just lie there and get serviced. Don’t mind me.”

That sounded awful. Perfect.

“Oh? Well then, I guess I’ll not worry myself.” You could hear the smile in his voice. Less perfect. He began to hum a little tune as your body, partially upright, was now being tilted forward at a 45 degree angle from his lap. His cock was bending in you, head pressing harshly up into your walls.

Heart beating so fast you felt a dizzy spell hit you, that renewed anticipation almost as arousing as the sensations.

His humming continued like he was reading the paper. You’d never ridden a roller coaster, but you’d seen many people do it before and this was surely the same feeling; right at the peak before the drop. When the ride operator stills you and lets you stare down at the height before you. Your stomach was flipping, excitement tinged with fear.

You were pulled off his dick until you felt the bell of his red tip get just outside your entrance. Was he going to pull out entirely?

No. He pulled you down by way of shadows and fucked you just a couple inches into your cunt. His head was dragging out past your tight hole and smashing back in, directly hitting your g-spot. The spongy bundle of nerve endings was dented with every thrust.

You weren’t used to having your entrance stimulated so much, the skin luckily becoming slick as your own wetness was fucked out of you.

“That feels weird, please.” How quickly you gave up. “Stop pulling out like that.”

A considerate sigh, “But you’ve gotten so wet, my dear. You’re dripping down my thighs already. I don’t think you want me to stop.”

Could you cum like this? You felt like you could, maybe if you just…you quickened your breath, faster and faster. Your stomach heaving, you felt the crescendo of pleasure.

“On second thought!” He stopped.

Your toes wiggled, hands gripping the tentacle on your chest. Quiet. Shh. Don’t argue. Boring. Don’t care. The building orgasm waned, you felt your blood pressure lower. This really was hell.

Alastor’s head was just sitting in you, burning hot and throbbing. You were sure you could feel his heartbeat.

You two were locked in a standoff. Someone had to let on they were enjoying themselves; Alastor releasing pent up frustration with your attitude toward his affections, you chasing down a rare penetration-only orgasm.

An idea struck you, a way to hopefully antagonize him and bruise his pride enough to force him into your hand (pussy), “Thank God. I think it’s almost my bedtime.”

Alastor’s smile strained, a twitch coming over his left eye. A trap. But the idea of letting you down and off of him seemed far worse than the small defeat you were offering. “Allow me to rock you to sleep then, sweetheart.”

Success! Shit!

You reached out, the angle of your punishment allowing you to grab the edge of the table and grip. Alastor’s annoyance translated to an inhuman pace, him pulling you off entirely from his cock before bringing you back down. He was positively slipping in and out of you, your lower lips puffy and soaked around him. This degree of wetness was something you couldn’t remember feeling outside of marathon sessions.

When your hands tightened, a shock of pain tore down your arm, a scream bringing Alastor to a sudden stop. “My collar…” Pain was apparently not a kink you enjoyed, though you briefly wondered if heaven allowed it at all.

You couldn’t even fuck properly. You couldn’t do anything right. All you managed to do was fail. A sting to your eyes as the air hit your welling tears. Did humans feel this pain often? Your body was righted and turned, you looked down to Alastor’s face as you were brought to him. He looked so soft, usual smirk a sweet toothless smile, “I told you to keep the sling on, didn’t I?” He looked happy.

Your arms found his shoulders and your head came to his chest, “Shut up and finish already.” He didn’t release you from the binding, instead pulling the right arm under the hold of his slender tendril to keep it safe and out of the way. His hands were both at the base of his cock while you were gently riding him. Well, “you”. He was still using his powers to manipulate your body on and off of him. Alastor’s fingers were spreading your arousal down his shaft and along his tightening balls, if you had looked at his face you’d have seen a weakened man there, furrowed brows and lust drunk eyes. But you didn’t look, trying to hide the same expression on your own features.

Left hand free, no need to hold yourself up, you made lazy, and you hoped subtle, circles around your clit. You weren’t sure if this was a total failure or not, but you could finish and say something good came of it. You, specifically.

Things were quiet, though. The loudest sound in the room was the wet pop coming from where his body was meeting your sopping hole. His breathing was fast and soft, sighing when he bottomed out. Another bite to your lip, a few more deep hits to your cervix, and you enjoyed a small but satisfying release. The hand on you stayed through, riding out tiny waves of pleasure as you twitched around him. When you felt his release you sighed, you did it. You think. Maybe. Regardless.

As he slowly lifted you, you considered if your legs could hold you—

Up you went and back down you fell as he took a new, quicker pace.

“A-Ah-lastor?! You,” you bit your tongue, “already finished?”

You had made a mistake earlier that you hadn’t even realized. But Alastor had been holding it between his sharp teeth, “How many times?”

Absolutely no idea what he was talking about, you gasped out a reply, “What!?”

“How many times should I fill you before you’re too filthy to return to heaven, do you think?” He couldn’t be serious. “Three? Five? You see, the advantage of using my tentacles is that I don't get tired.”

Oh, but he was serious.

The battle was entirely forfeit somewhere around the third time he flooded you with his seed.

“These aren’t the usual screams I enjoy from my studio, but I’m not averse to them.”

When he felt you’d learned whatever lesson you were supposed to be taking in by the pump full, you were finally removed from him. He covered your lower half with his coat around your waist. It would be lying to say you were surprised to find his wide shoulders and small waist wasn’t just an illusion of his well tailored, yet oddly torn, coat. He was annoyingly attractive. Who gave him the right?

Your legs gave out when you tried to stand, warm hands pulling under your armpits to get you back on your feet. As much as you wanted to push him away, you were still a little tipsy and your legs still getting used to full blood flow. His arm held out for you to use for stability, you took it and wobbled silently to the floor you both lived on. Before you left the elevator you looked down and saw a line of white dripping down your inner leg. Took longer than you expected, honestly.

When you turned to the right to go to your door, his arm came around your waist and shepherded you to his room on the left. You shot him a look, asking what he thought he was doing.

He laughed, “Oh, after tonight’s little escapade, you’re moving!” He opened his door and gestured for you to enter, “Welcome home, my dear.”

What was worse than a failure? A catastrophe? This was that.

“Now come on, we need to get you cleaned up.” A hand patted softly at your ass before ushering you inside.

He did just that, wiping you down and undressing you before settling you into his bed. Exhausted and sore, you decided to argue after sleep.

When you awoke, you checked your shredded bottoms for your phone. Nothing.

An answer was found when you mentioned it to Alastor, who asked what you were searching for so early in the morning, “Perhaps someone at that venue you enjoyed has it? Too bad you can’t go back and ask.” He was resting his back against the headboard, you realized he’d unbuttoned his shirt quite a bit. “Oh well!”

How was he always making you scream?

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith , sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re

@asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp

#alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x you #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #smut

623 notes · View notes

coco-loco-nut · 23 days

Text

We Can’t Be Friends

Pairing: George Russel x Reader

Summary: George’s girlfriend, a former child actor, is not well liked by the public

TW: mentions of alcohol and drug abuse, implied child exploitation

A/n: going off of the more popular interpretation of the song (ari vs the public)

requests open!🫶 masterlist

———————

You just finished filming a short interview in a docuseries with some of your former colleagues, those who fell into the same trap and downfall as you did. You prefer not to air everything out, but you knew your statement would support the others.

The industry basically forced you into a drug and alcohol addiction, one that you thankfully beat, but you went from someone who was once loved to someone hated, just from how the media spun your name.

You met George at a hospital event -you now work as a biochemist and bioengineer- and he immediately recognized his childhood crush. You dated for a year before feeling strong enough to go public, but ever since he posted a very cute picture of you, the hate has started again.

“I’ll make a statement asking them to leave you alone,” George offers but you shake your head no. He hates seeing you upset, but both of you didn’t expect the backlash on you.

“They won’t understand, they could never even try. They will never know what it was like to grow up like that, even the docuseries won’t help,” you start to dismiss the thought.

“We can’t do nothing,” he tries to reason, wanting to protect you.

“I don’t want to tiptoe around the public, but I don’t want to hide, either way I’m feeding this fire,” you groan, running your hand through your hair as you pace the room. You had to call off of work today, the entrance to your townhome being blocked by paparazzi.

“The story is gonna die, and we’ll be alright,” George stands up and pulls you into a hug. In your mind you picture the public liking you again, waiting for their love again.

A few days later, George drags you out of the house for lunch, you had only been leaving for work. The two of you step out, a reporter immediately coming up to you. You ignore the first few, sitting in your silence.

“It’s just me and you, Baby girl,” George whispers to you, supporting you however you choose to respond.

“Y/n, is it true that you have been in and out of rehab for the past year? You are in and out of hospitals,” one reporter, who always hounds you, asks causing you to whirl around. You don’t want to argue, but you don’t want to bite, so you choose a confusing answer.

“You’ve got me misunderstood, but at least I look this good,” you smirk, watching their face scrunch in confusion, gripping their paper and pen, before continuing your walk.

The next day a clip of one of your short interviews drops, taken while you were in college, as a trailer for the docuseries release the following week.

~-~-~-

I don’t like how this industry painted me, but I’m still here hanging, just not what they made me. It’s almost like a daydream sometimes, finally leaving that world. I feel so seen, I am everything that I defined myself as, not all that the industry made me be. My truth and I may always sit in silence, but one day I hope I am brave enough to say it out loud. For now, it’s only me on the road after recovery, but maybe that’s all I need.

~-~-~-

buzzfeed.com/uk

A list of every child actor we need to apologize to after watching “Drugged: The Truth Behind the Lives of Child Actors”

1. Y/n Y/l/n

~-~-~-

“Are you sure you want to go out there?” George asks, looking at the crowds of journalists. You nod, tired of being silent and waiting for things to be better, not caring about feeding the fire anymore.

“Let’s go,” you release a shaky breath, stepping out behind your boyfriend as he walks you to work.

“Y/n! Anything to comment regarding the documentary that’s been released and the allegations made by your former colleagues?” A journalist asks, the rest hoarding, pens at the ready.

“Actually, I do. You owe us an apology. Villainizing children who needed someone like you to expose how awful our working conditions were, that’s sick and cruel. You wrote lies about us, and instead of apologizing, you want to ask us for statements and exploit our names more? You’re sick. We can’t be friends,” you chem them out before continuing on your way to work. A part of you will always wait for their love, but you are tired of waiting for them to like you.

“You’re a badass. I hope they will see you are the biochemist and bioengineer, not the child actor. You’ve come so far and I’m so proud,” George says once your breathing steadies from the adrenaline.

“Thank you, Georgie,” a small part of you wants to flip them off behind you, just like you would’ve done ten years ago, but you don’t, finally moving forward.

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #george russell #george russel x reader #george russel imagine #george russel imagines #ariana grande

236 notes · View notes

court-of-starss · 5 months

Text

Stars of Heartbreak

Pairing: Rhysand x reader

Summary: He was the stars, the twinkling lights that gave hope to the dreamers who spent their nights bewitched by the hope.

Warnings: just a whole lot of angst.

a/n: This is my first time posting my writing so hopefully it's not too disappointing lmaoo. Would also like to clarify that I am the biggest Feysand simp. Let me know what you think!

Masterlist

He was the stars, the twinkling lights that gave hope to the dreamers who spent their nights bewitched by the hope. He was the cool soft caress of the night sky, soft touches and nights spent in soft embraces.

That’s where you were now, staring out into the night sky, standing atop the highest balcony in the Night court, his court. One he ruled with the curse breaker, the beautiful human now fae Archeron sister. Feyre wasn’t your enemy; she was the saving grace to all that knew her. She was noble, brave and beautiful. The things you weren’t. At least not anymore.

Not to Rhysand.

Not anymore.

He was not the male who promised you the very stars you were grieving too now. He was not the love that swept you in its warm embrace, nor was he the face that you woke up to every morning. Not since he had found the female that was his mate. Mate. It’s laughable now, you had always hoped, prayed, that it would snap between the two of you. Between every kiss, every smile, every soft touch. You had hoped and hoped until it had consumed you.

But you were not Feyre Archeron.

You were not the fearless human girl who freed him from the terror of Amarantha and her wicked court. You were not the newly made fae who showed him happiness again. You tried. Every nightmare, every terror induced moment after being freed you were by his side. Holding him, reminding him that he was home, safe finally. You were there to help him regain his control of himself, to regain control of his court.

But you weren’t enough, perhaps you never were.

“You’re going to fall over the railing with all that thinking.” His voice always was a calm whisper, a soft caress of night that made all the hairs on your body stand at his command. Whether it was a whisper or a yell, it always has the same affect.

“Maybe.” You said softly to the night sky, the sight too beautiful to look away from. You didn’t want to turn and face him, to face those hypnotizing violet eyes that would always be able to see right through you. But he didn’t mind, he knew it was hard for you to adjust after centuries of whirlwind romance.

“I’ll catch you.” He muttered, soft steps stopping beside you to lean against the same railing. But he wasn’t looking at the night sky, he was reading your face. Noting the lack of sleep evident by the dark bags under your cold eyes.

Cold eyes that used to shine for him, that used to twinkle in amusement when Cassian would laugh at your dumb jokes, jokes that only the two of you understood. Eyes that used to scrunch in concentration when you would massage the cramps out of Azriels hands on the colder days. Eyes that used to scrunch in happiness when you would paint your nails with Mor, the colors different every week depending on the last place his cousin had returned from.

Eyes that used to be full of hope and love, now dull and cold like the rest of you. Because of him.

“I’ll always catch you.” He whispered, a pang going through his chest at the down turn of your lips.

“Rhys.” You warned, scrunching your eyebrows. His name was always your favorite word. You had said it in so many ways, but now it left a sour taste on your tongue.

“You’re killing me.” He moved, his arm gently brushing yours in a warm gentle touch. A touch you would have leaned in to, drawn to every part of him like a moth to a flame. But now? Now you took a step back, breaking your gaze from the stars above to the stars in his eyes.

“Don’t.” You warned again, your arms moving to wrap around yourself. To protect yourself from the broken shell of a heart in your chest that only ever beat for him.

Rhys took a step towards you again, halting in his spot when you took another away from him. He wished he could save you from the pain he had caused, save you from him. A gentle tug on the golden strand in his chest had him turning his gaze to his mate who was watching them from the couch where the rest of his family was. They were all laughing, drinking and soaking in the feel of each other after years of war.

Feyre’s worry radiated through the bond, worry for the female that had sacrificed her own heart for theirs. You watched them in their silent conversation, taking two more steps away from him.

“It’s okay Rhysand, your family is waiting for you.” You said softly, not turning to look into the warmth of the living room. Knowing that if you looked at the family that was once yours, that you would break completely.

Rhys’ gaze snapped back to yours, desperation leaking through the stars swirling in his violet eyes. He swallowed roughly and held out his hand. His hand was wobbling in way you hadn’t witnessed since he returned from the mountain he was held captive. Guilt shot through you, not wanting to cause him any distress, even now.

“They’re your family too. I’m your family.” He begged, steadying his hand. You shook your head with a soft sad smile and took another step back towards the door behind you, the shadowsinger emerging from the shadows ready to help you depart. Violet eyes snapped to the steady Hazel ones of his brother, confusion and panic flooding him.

“No, you can’t leave.” He always was the smartest in the room, quick to put together the plans of others. And as he watched you accept the cloak from his brother, he felt the panic slid up his throat, felt it fill his eyes with tears he didn’t deserve to shed. Azriel took a step out of the shadows and cleared his throat, gently taking your arm to lead you to the railing once more, his body a strong wall of muscle between you and his brother.

“It’s her choice Rhys.” He said, his tone steady and strong. You were his sister, as much as Rhys was his brother. You slid the hood of the cloak over your head and leaned around Azriel to meet his Violet gaze once more, for the last time.

“I wish nothing but happiness for you Rhys. I will always love you, but that is the reason that I can’t stay here.” You said with a tear-filled smile, taking Azriels hand as he lifted you into his arms, his mighty wings spreading ready to leap into flight.

Rhys watched with tear-soaked cheeks as he watched you fly off into the horizon in his brothers’ arms, overwhelming heartbreak racing through him.

But nothing could prepare him for the sight of his brother returning empty handed, shooting him a pity filled look as he knelt down to hold his weeping brother. Your soft scent clinging to his shadows in a faint caress of what used to be.

#acotar series #feysand #acotar #rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhysand x y/n #rhysand angst #rhysand fluff #rhysand fanfic #emmie writes #night court

327 notes · View notes

princesachicana · 2 years

Text

𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬 (conrad fisher x reader)

description: your new job has conrad’s mind spiraling.

wanna be added to my conrad tag list?! just send me a direct message or ask! or comment on this post!

Conrad was a very supportive boyfriend, he’d been there for each and every cheer competition, he’d had your back when your parents judged your career choices. But right now it took a lot for him not to speak his mind.

“So how do I look?” You asked spinning in a circle showing off your new work uniform. When you told him about getting a new job a week ago, he thought his perfect innocent girlfriend would apply to some bake shop. He was super wrong. You’d applied at a sports bar to be a waitress! If it was any other waitress job he’d be fine. But this one was packed full of snobby frat dudes who’d ogle his girl the whole time.

The uniforms. The tiny booty shorts did little to conceal your ass, the bikini top had your breasts nearly spilling out of the top. God you looked so beautiful . “You look good enough to bend over this counter.” Conrad smirked, wrapping his arms around your body. Would trying to seduce you before work be evil? Maybe he’d get to have you all to himself for the rest of the night you’d forget the whole job thing. “That’s very tempting but my shift starts in 30.” You stood on tip toes placing kisses all across his face, landing the last one onto his lips.

“Can i come with?” Conrad’s question causes you to giggle, “Oh you’re serious?” You said when you noticed his frown. “Yeah why wouldn’t i be? just wanna look out for you.” His fingers absentmindedly massaged your hips lightly. “I’ll be fine you stay here and I’ll be back in 4 hours!” He almost ran and trapped you, so you wouldn’t be able to walk out that door, but as he watched you leave excited,he wouldn’t ruin your mood.

Conrad couldn’t concentrate, his mind kept running back to you in those booty shorts, how other undeserving dudes were looking at you tonight. He wasn’t one of those boyfriends that controlled what you wore. Even at parties if dudes tried to feel up on you while he stepped away for a second he’d pull you away immediately. If the dudes were brave enough they’d try to pick a fight with Conrad which in return didn’t end up well for them.

All he could do was stare at the clock, watching it as it ticked by waiting for your shift to end. The thoughts that were going through his mind at the moment weren’t good. He’d wonder if you would even mention if a guy made you uncomfortable. He knew that you always tried to avoid conflict as best as you could. So the thought of a guy making lewd comments or worse touching you, and you not mentioning it to any one at your job scared him.

The sound of the door opening and closing has Conrad on his feet in no time. “Woah hey baby!” You say as he quickly grips onto your hips. “Missed you too!” You laugh when he smothers your chest and neck with kisses. “How was your day?” When he pulls away he examines your figure, he has the most attractive girlfriend ever. Even now with a baggy shirt over your uniform, you were beautiful.

“It was so good! all the girls are so sweet!” You gushed about your new co-workers. Conrad felt his body relax, you sounded like everything was fine but he was still going to ask. “The customers though?” You pursed your lips “You know how it is, some people complain about stupid things.” You rolled your eyes. “But look! I almost got 700 dollars in tips today!” You pulled money out of your back pockets. Conrad raised an eyebrow “Must have provided good service then!” he kissed both of your cheeks, you were so adorable when you were excited about something.

“Well I hardly do anything at some tables!” You started walking to the living room, shedding your over sized t-shirt. Conrad couldn’t help it when his eyes stopped at your breasts for a minute before looking back at your face. “I got tipped a one hundred dollar bill! And all the dude ordered was a lemonade!” Conrad wasn’t stupid he knew why that fucking dude did that! “Was the lemonade that good or?” He questioned sitting down on the couch pulling you onto his lap.

“No! it was that minute made fountain drink, I think he liked me” You shrugged, leaning into start a very needy make out session with your hot boyfriend. You immediately frowned and almost let out an audible whine when he turned his head away. “Kiss me” you tried another time, but like you expected he turned his head once again. “What’s wrong?” You whispered, playing with his hair. “You think he liked you?” He asked repeating your words from earlier with a scoff.

“Not like that!” You shook your head “He said i was fun to talk to!” Okay now this was really annoying Conrad. “That’s what they say all the time, did he ask if you had a boyfriend?” Conrad’s question left you silent. “Yea and I told him I do!” Conrad felt relief after that but not fully, guys still flirted when girls had boyfriends right? “What’s this fuckers name?” You gasped but let out a little laugh before replying “John” Conrad processed the name for a little, he didn’t know any John.

You took this time to pepper kisses down his neck, Conrad blew out a breath you were good at distracting him, you were fucking evil. As you rolled your hips into his and felt the strain in his sweats, you know you had him right where you wanted him. “Besides john’s not the worst thing ever? You should see the dudes that write their phone number on the receipts.” Conrad was about to reply but you silenced him with a kiss “Don’t worry baby I throw them away.”

His breathing turned rapid as you moved off his lap, landing in front of him on your knees. “You look tense connie let me make you feel good” you whispered massaging his thighs over his sweats. His only response was a “fuck please” and a head nod. You reached for the knot in his sweats and untied it agonizingly slow, “Don’t fucking tease right now baby.” Conrad muttered, his jaw flexed. You slowly pulled his sweats and under wear down with his help.

“Don’t worry baby we have all night.” You said as you finally took him inside your mouth. And he was a goner, All wrapped up in you and your body, your mouth, just you.

Week three of your job and he was barely coming to see you, he felt like a bad boyfriend. Conrad stood in line at your job, the hostess line where he waited to be seated was taking forever. Every time a waitress would walk by in the same uniform you wore every day he looked away. He wouldn’t dare disrespect you. He breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed he was next in line. Now that he was closer to the restaurants front, he looked around for you, where were you?

“Next!” the cheery voice had him moving forward. The red headed girl smiled politely at him. “Welcome just a table for one?!” She asked full of bright energy. Conrad nodded in reply. “Okay let me see what we have” she started messing with the tablet that was on her counter. “Okay today you’ll be with Alyssa she-“ The girl was interrupted before she could finish her sentence.

“I’ll take him, he’s mine!” You stood beside the hostess with a goofy smile. “But you already have like six tables” The hostess worried that it would be a lot of work. “It’s fine Maria I swear, this is my boyfriend.” The hostess who he knew now was Maria laughed knowing all to well she would of the done the same thing if it was her boyfriend “Oh okay wanna sit him down?” She handed you the menu and quickly told you where to seat him.

As you guided him towards the table he couldn’t help it but stare at your backside, those shorts were going to be the death of him. “Right here babe!” You seated him at a tall table. “Thank you” he took a seat staring at you with a small smile. “What?” you questioned now feeling shy. “I’ll take him he’s mine?” He repeated your words that you said at the hostess line. “What? You wanted me to be your waitress right?” You looked at him with an irritated look. “Because I can tell Alyssa to take your table if you want someone else!” You started to raise your voice a little. “I’m kidding babe, just liked how you said it that’s all.”

“Okay what can I get you to drink? Wanna beer?” You went back into professional mode. “Yeah I’ll take a beer” you smiled, leaning over to plant a kiss onto his lips. “I’ll be back!” Now that you were gone is when he took the time to look around the place. And just like he expected obnoxious frat dudes. He had a smug smile as the frat dudes stared at him no doubt talking about the hot waitress that Conrad got to kiss.

5 minutes. 10 minutes. 15 minutes.

You still hadn’t brought him his beer, you hadn’t even been back to this section of the restaurant. Conrad could tell your other tables were getting impatient as well. He stood up on a mission to find you.

He clearly remembered how you joked about being so wrapped up in conversation. With your new “friend” John that you often forgot about your other tables.

It didn’t take long for him to find you, there you stood at the bar having a conversation with a customer that was hidden from his line of sight. Fucking John right? he didn’t wanna rush up towards the both of you and look like a crazy person so he remained walking normally. As he crept up you gasped “hey baby!” You gushed wrapping your arms around his neck, placing a chaste kiss on his lips, he had no problem kissing back. “This is John!” You introduced the person when you pulled away.

He was an old man, no older than 70. “This is John?” Conrad asked, eyes assessing the man. The lemonade that you always said he ordered? check. The lonely chair that no sat next to him in? check. “Yup!” you popped the p. “My new best friend!” John laughed “yes,yes me and your girl have quite the conversations almost all of them seem to be about you! you must be Conrad!” John stuck his hand out. Conrad shook his hand without complaining.

“Yeah, heard a lot about you too! thanks for keeping my girl company.” Conrad spoke genuinely. “Oh my gosh my other tables, I’ll be back!” You nearly yelled before rushing back towards the section. Conrad couldn’t believe this was John! The John he’d cursed out in his head more than once. The John that tipped you one hundred dollar bills even though he only drank a lemonade.

“She’s the first one to not make fun of me or think I’m some sorta creep.” John spoke after a moment of silence. “What?” Conrad asked. “She doesn’t make fun of me because I’m a lonely old man, everyone else here has.” Conrad smiled to himself you really were the nicest person ever. “She mentioned that you come here almost everyday, why is that?” Conrad couldn’t help but be curious.

“Bethany, my wife about 50 some years ago she worked here, right at this bar that’s where I met her, I had some drinking problems back then, stubborn girl didn’t give me a drink after my 5th shot said it was either lemonade or water” he laughed to himself, no doubt reminiscing about the old days. “Before I knew It I was in love and married, we came here every weekend even though she no longer worked here! every-time I got the urge to have a drink she ordered me a lemonade.” John’s face turned sorrowful, by the look on his face Conrad knew his wife was no longer alive.

“Can i ask what happened?” Conrad whispered, he knew now how conversations with this man had distracted you many times. “Car accident, on her way to an appointment we was supposed to have twins.” John cleared his throat understandably getting emotional.

“Gotta cherish every moment with y/n alright? She loves you.” John clapped his hand on Conrad’s shoulder. Conrad nodded with pride. “Sorry to hear about your family, and I love y/n more than I can express ever since we were 7 years old.” John smiled with a fondness that seemed to make his heart happy “Childhood lovers? My favorite.” Conrad laughed “We use to fight a lot, everyone would say that we would be dating by the age of sixteen, spoiler alert they were right.”

You came back quickly. “I might have gotten a write up because I abandoned my tables for more than 15 minutes.” You laughed with a shrug. “Oh it’s all my fault!” John shook his head feeling bad. “No it’s not! I should be able to multitask!” you reassured him. “So what did y’all talk about?” You beamed with a smile, Conrad wrapped his arms around you waist kissing your forehead.

“Just about making every moment count.” Conrad whispered, smiling down at you with so much love and care.

TAGS: @gillybear17 @tessastle @conradsupporterr (SRRY IF I FORGOT ANYONE)

4K notes · View notes

estrellami-1 · 7 months

Text

If I Should Stay

Just a friendly reminder that I missed the last post so I’m posting part 26 and part 27 on the same day, so make sure to go back and read 26 if you haven’t already! ❤️

Part 1 | . . . | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28

Eddie doesn’t laugh the way Steve thinks he would. Instead, he frowns slightly. “Should be careful,” he mumbles. “Some dealers don’t care what they give you, long as they get their money.”

Steve hums in response. “Well, I won’t have to worry about that now, right?” He shifts on the roof, laying down to look up at the stars. Feels, more than sees, Eddie do the same. “You’re staying.”

“That I am,” Eddie replies, sighing as he looks at the stars. “Wish we could see ‘em all.”

Steve glances over, and Eddie lifts a hand, waves it lazily at the sky. “The stars. Can’t see but half of ‘em cause of all the lights. But they’re so pretty. So bright. Almost enough to make me want to brave my dad again.”

Steve hums. “He’s still alive?”

“Yeah. ‘S he not? In four years?”

“I dunno exactly. Just… the way you phrased things made it sound like he wasn’t.”

“Well, hell,” Eddie laughs, raising the blunt like it’s a glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

Steve snorts and knocks his knuckles against Eddie’s, accepting the joint again after Eddie takes a drag. “So,” Eddie says, rolling over to lay on his front, propping himself up on his elbows. “Tell me the Steve Harrington hierarchy for dates. What comes first?”

Steve chuckles. “Why?” He asks, then answers regardless. “First date is getting to know each other, y’know? If you run out of things to say twenty minutes into it, how the hell’re you supposed to make a relationship work, right? So first date is making sure you’re…” he waves a hand around, looking for the right word. “Like… making sure you match.”

“Compatible?” Eddie suggests, and Steve snaps at him.

“Compatible, that’s it, yeah. Making sure you’re compatible. Second date’s for making sure you’re serious about it, making sure there’s still more to talk about, that you’re not gonna end up staring awkwardly at each other twenty minutes into that date because maybe you’re compatible enough for one date, but not really two, right?”

“So every subsequent date is just making sure you’re compatible.”

“I guess, yeah. Except when you know you are compatible, then you show ‘em who you really are. You put away your nice shirts and start getting out the everyday ones. The dates aren’t as planned out because they don’t need to be, because you already have fun together. Maybe you go to the arcade and you don’t let ‘em win. Or not as easy, at least. I’m still terrible at bowling. I don’t think there’s any hope for me.” He shakes his head with a chuckle.

Eddie raises a brow. “You’re telling me there’s a sport in which you don’t excel? This I have to see.”

Steve laughs and nudges his shoulder. “Man, shuddup.”

“No, but seriously,” Eddie says, and he sounds serious, so Steve drops his smile and listens. “If… if I were to go on a date, on a few dates, with a guy, maybe someone like you, and it’s going well, and we get to that point… I could imagine us doing pretty much exactly this.”

“Getting high on a roof?”

“Spending time together,” Eddie says quietly. “No expectations.”

“Oh,” Steve says quietly, sure his cheeks are scarlet.

“And,” Eddie says even quieter, practically a whisper, “I maybe wouldn’t mind trying with you.”

“As excited as that makes me,” Steve says, “and trust me, I’m pretty damn excited, I can’t help but think maybe we should wait until we’re past the end of the world.”

“Sure,” Eddie says, and brushes his knuckles against Steve’s. They both watch the movement. “Figure I’ve waited this long, what’s a little bit longer, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs, pressing his thumb to one of Eddie’s knuckles. Wishes he was pressing his lips to that knuckle instead.

He suddenly sighs. “It’s not just gonna be a week or two, y’know. It’s… when this is over, we can’t stay. Robin and I, we’ve gotta go back to the future.”

“Well, sure, but there’s some version of you that’s gonna stay, right?”

“And if that version of me doesn’t know that any of this happened? ‘M still an asshole, Eddie.”

Eddie grins and rolls over until they’re face-to-face. “I don’t think you’re capable of not being bitchy,” he says, laughing when Steve good-naturedly shoves his face away. “No, but hey,” he says quieter, more serious. “The Harrington Charm might be legendary, but us Munsons got a few tricks up our sleeves too, m’kay? If I have to win you back, I’ll do it. Or could you write yourself a note, maybe? Alli’s staying, she could give it to you. You could write to ask any one of us about it, and we’d tell you.”

Steve hums. “How do you do that?”

Eddie blinks. “Do what?”

“Make me feel like everything’s gonna be alright.”

Eddie blushes, but doesn’t answer, just offers Steve the joint again.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @str4wb3rry-guy @paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry

#stranger things #if I should stay #steve harrington #eddie munson #eventual steddie #as I said before we’re SO CLOSE y’all #I can TASTE it #also this is gonna be well over 30 parts. you’ve been warned #fix it fic #time travel #time travel fix it #starambles

262 notes · View notes

borathae · 2 years

Text

↳ Index [Day 25 - Rough Sex]

Pairing: Domish!Jimin x f.Reader

Kinks: sex in nature (by a river), rough!! sex, Bratty Switching, hair pulling, scratching, muscle kink, strength kink, he rips her clothes, degradation, dirty talk, some spanking, clothed pussy rubbing, standing doggy against some rocks, creampies, orgasm denial, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (m.receiving), squirting, cuddly aftercare, this is also make up sex btw

Wordcount: 5.1k

a/n: so uhm surprise besties hahahah this is a zombie apocalypse story. listen, i don’t know why this request inspired this setting but it did. i'm having so much fun exploring different aus which i wasn’t really brave enough to post about on here yet and a zombie apocalypse story has been on my mind since the dawn of day. have fun besties jfadsjf ❤

“Hey.”

Jungkook turns upon hearing your voice. He sharpened his axe before, but stops when he sees you.

“Hey”, he answers you, watching you stand over him.

“You uhm”, you clear your throat, “did you see where he went?”

“Yeah, he went down to the river to train”, Jungkook answers you.

“Thanks. I’ll uhm, try to talk to him.”

“Yeah do that”, Jungkook says and gives you a little smile.

“Mhm”, you acknowledge him, turning to leave.

“And boss?”

“Yeah?” you stop, looking over your shoulder.

“You were right. Last night I mean. You were right.”

You give him a smile, “thank you Kook, that means a lot.”

Jungkook gives you a nod of his head and finally continues sharpening his axe. You turn to leave for the river.

Ten years ago, you all lived a different life. You and Jimin were planning to get married. Your shared best friend Jungkook was an upcoming singer, while your other friends Namjoon and Yoongi already produced music. Seokjin was planning to start a career in acting while Taehyung already was a very popular actor. And Hoseok was quite busy choreographing dances for the biggest stars in the world. Stuff like stars, celebrities and normal everyday life long stopped existing after an incurable outbreak of what is known as “The Zombie Disease” these days. Very creative name, yes yes we all know, but it at least gets straight to the point.

The virus infects the brain and turns whatever living organism it latched onto into a flesh-hungry, braindead and rotting zombie. Animals and humans alike. The humans fought the monsters at first, but soon the fighting began between them as well. Food became scarce, different morals came up and greed for power rose in a few heads.

You and your friends were lucky, escaping the big cities before the military bombed them in an attempt to stop the civil wars. It resulted in two thirds of the still healthy population dying in fires and explosions and for the military to lose its last spark of respect. They are hunted these days. By everyone.

You lived in the forests since two winters, hidden from remaining civilization and avoiding the hoards of zombies in your tree house fortresses with fifty other survivors. The eight of you were the real deal however, the ones who've been through it all. The leaders of the whole pack so to speak. You’ve been here since day one and will always be here until something out there kills you.

You were the leader of your little group. You weren’t the oldest and maybe also not the strongest, but you were a survivor. Your left arm still carried the marks of where you had to burn off bite marks an especially friendly zombie family left just three days into the outbreak. Your right eye still saw worse after a showdown with five heavily armed soldiers. And your nights were still plagued by nightmares of when you had to shoot your own brother in the head after zombies got him right in the throat. You knew what was out there. You actually knew. And that’s why you were their leader. Why they listen to you, follow your guidance and respect your decisions. Everyone except your stubborn partner of course.

Contrary to what Jungkook told you, the training spot next to the reeds is empty. You look around for a moment. There are footsteps in the fine gravel, they look fresh, the depth and length of them fit perfectly to Jimin’s bare feet. You follow them with your eyes. They are leading over to the high rocks just twenty feet to your left. That’s where your washing spot was. So Jimin must be cleaning himself right now.

You walk to the hidden spot. Soon the splashing of water and a clear singing voice can be heard. You stop. It’s been ages since you last heard him sing. He sounds beautiful. This song. You recognize the melody. It’s Your Song. The song you always listened to when the world was still okay.

You gulp, biting the inside of your cheek in order not to get emotional. God, you stupid woman. You feel awful for last night.

You and Jimin had a pretty big fight last night over whether or not you should expand your lands or not. You said that it would be beneficial for growing more crops, while Jimin insisted that extending the borders would ask for too much trouble. The others were present during your fight, trying to diffuse the situation as best as possible, but you still ended up going to bed angry at each other.

The rocks are shielding most of his singing, making it appear quiet to your ears. You want to hear more of it. You need to see him.

You cross the corner. There he is. Standing in the stream and with his back turned to you and his naked butt on full display. You are too immersed in staring at his behind that you don’t notice the stick lying on the ground right in front of your feet. You take a step.

Crack.

Jimin snaps around, instantly getting into position to fight despite his naked state. His eyes are dark, filled with the desire to kill. His clenched fists shield his face, his strong feet standing broad on the gravel ground.

You stop, tensing up yourself, ready to defend yourself should Jimin in his shock decide to jump you. To your luck however, he relaxes again, lowering his fists and releasing the tension in his muscles. He studies you from head to toe, eyes filled with both sad yearning and slight annoyance.

“You know not to sneak up on me. I could have punched you”, he says, sliding his hand down to cover his exposed dick, “what are you even doing here? Are you watching me bathe? That’s creepy”, he raises one of his eyebrows in judgment.

You snort, “first of all, I’ve seen your dick a million times before and second of all, no I didn’t, I was actually trying to look for you. I didn’t expect you to be naked.”

“That’s our washing spot. What else did you expect me to do here? Squats?” he asks and cracks up at his own joke.

“Very funny”, you roll your eyes at him, trying your hardest not to snicker at his stupid joke. You sneak a glance at his dick again.

Jimin notices, lips curling into a little smirk.

“So you did want to watch me. Damn, I even didn’t know that you had a thing for voyeurism”, he teases, relaxing his hands around his dick just to show it off.

“Oh shut up, you know exactly that I do”, you throw back, eyes focused on his crotch.

His hands are opening further and further, exciting you more and more.

“I know you do” his left hand slips away, “besides, I think we both know that there is still some making-up to do”, his right hand slips away, exposing him completely.

“Jimin, what are you insinuating?” you ask, staring at his fingers around his cock.

“An apology. Isn’t that obvious?” he states nonchalantly, before he takes a step forward, closer to you.

“An apology?"

“Yeah”, he nods his head, “you were right. We should think about how we can feed ourselves. Especially now that Charley and Kate are pregnant and we got those five new recruits. Our encampment is growing and we need more space for crops and ultimatively for housing too. You were right.”

“Yes, but I can see your point too. Growing our borders is risky and we need to make sure the areas we claim are clean. We lost too many guys last July trying to claim this fucking sawmill. I get that you’re weary.”

Jimin nods his head.

“I just”, he steps closer, “I just don’t wanna fucking lose you. You know?”

“Lose me? Why me?” you ask in a laugh.

“Because you’re reckless, that’s why. And I know that you would be dumb enough to throw yourself into danger for the sake of the others and I can’t fucking let you do that”, he says, placing his hand on your arm right where your burn scar stretches. You took those bites in Jimin’s stead ten years ago and then ordered him to use a blowtorch to burn them off. Jimin can still hear your screams at night.

You feel every ounce of anger you still had left for him crumble like a cookie. You smile fondly, reaching out to poke his tummy.

“You old sap”, you say.

Jimin laughs, eyes crinkling up and cheeks puffing out.

“So? I’m an old sap and I’m proud of it.”

“Yeah”, you chuckle, “and I love you for it.”

“I love you too, you know?” he says.

“Yeah, I know”, you assure him, sneaking a glance down at his body, “I can’t believe you had this whole conversation with your dick out”, you say in a chuckle.

“I know”, he grins, “do you like the view?” he taunts, wiggling his hips a little.

“Jimin, behave.”

“No”, he throws back, wiggling even more.

“What if someone sees us?”

Jimin chuckles, inching closer to you. He is a mere step away from touching you. Your skin tingles in anticipation, your stomach tightens in excitement.

“As if you would mind”, he rasps.

You clench your jaw in a last attempt to stop yourself from giving in to your urges. You look up from his crotch to stare into his eyes instead. They are glimmering in arousal, watching you through hooded lids.

“So? Do you wanna accept my apology and let me fuck it okay again?” he asks, giving you sweet puppy eyes.

You gulp, hands landing on his pecs and body drawing closer. He smirks triumphantly, knowing already that he had won you over. He just needed to take that last step separating the two of you. Just one more step and you would be his’.

“Come closer and find out”, you challenge, accepting your fate. Not that it was hard to accept of course. Oh how you want him. Fighting with him always makes you crave him especially hard.

“Yeah? How hard do you want it?”

“As hard as you can give it to me, baby.”

“Fuck baby…”

Having your consent, Jimin charges forward. He grabs your face, pulling you onto his mouth. His kiss is rough, all teeth and tongue. He sucks and bites your lower lip until desperate moans escape your throat. Your fingers are entangled in his wet hair, pulling at them in vigor. He groans, the pain of your rough handling spurring him on even more. You both need it, need to remind the other that you were a fucking team. It’s the hottest pain, leaving the both of you whining and moaning in despair, but it is all the more addicting, filling you up with the desire to fuck the other like a wild animal.

You pull away, a bundle of his hair sits securely in your fingers so you can tolt his head back.

His puffy lips part, releasing shaky breaths. His dark eyes watch you with cocky confidence glistening in them.

“I fucking want you like nothing else”, you growl, pulling at his hair.

He groans deeply, letting his head get pulled back. It exposes his thick neck. Oh how you would love to bury your teeth in his skin, make him whine and squirm in your hands.

“I want you more”, Jimin retorts, tightening his fingers on your jaw until it stings.

You both fall silent, your heavy pants and the rushing of the river the only thing hanging in the air. You are staring at each other. Both of you are desperate, aching for the other’s touch, but your pride holds you back. You will not be the one losing today, not this time.

“Stop lying”, you growl, traveling your free hand over his chest.

It is cold under your touch, the water having cooled it down. Jimin takes a shaky inhale, eyelids fluttering in desperation. Your touch feels like fire on his skin, leaving him aching for more.

“I’m not lying. I want you more than you do me”, he insists, earning himself a twist of his hair. He moans, cock growing harder.

“Be quiet”, you grumble, dancing your hand further down his torso to trace every inch of his toned stomach. The years of fighting and training really paid of. His stomach is rock hard, his abs looking as if they were sculpted by gods. They must have been cruel gods, judging by the state they abandoned the world in.

“I’ll fuck you like a goddess”, he rasps, earning himself scratch marks down his happy trail.

“I’d like to see you try”, you challenge.

“Let go of my hair and I’ll show you”, he retorts. His voice sounds confident. One might think that your teasing touch doesn’t affect him if it weren’t for his ragged breathing and rapidly growing boner.

“Jimin”, you breathe, making your voice sound pitying, “we both know that’s not possible”, you stop your hand on his hips right next to his hardened cock. You feel him tense up, his lips part and a shaky moan manages to escape his throat.

You smirk triumphantly, relaxing the grip on his hair now that he had surrendered to you. Or so you thought. The moment his hair is free from your touch, Jimin launches forward, attaching his lips to your neck and sucking hard. It surprises you, making you nearly fall backwards, if it wasn’t for his strong arm holding you by the small of your back.

“What, what are you? Jimin, fuck- let me, let me-”, you stutter in a last attempt to keep the upper hand, but to no avail. Jimin has won, “fuck baby, you sneaky bastard…” you sigh, tilting your head back gladly.

His arms are wrapped around your body tightly, holding you safely. His soft lips worship your neck with hungry kisses, painting spots of sensitivity all over your skin. Your eyes flutter shut, your knees nearly giving up on you. He makes you so goddamn weak.

Jimin doesn’t mind your loss in strength, using your wobbly feet to his advantage to pull you even closer to his body.

His dick is pressed against our body, grinding over your clothed stomach. He moans, stopping his kisses for a moment to catch his breath.

“Undress, I don’t wanna ruin your shirt”, he mumbles against your neck, pulling at the hem of your tanktop.

“Do it yourself”, you challenge. He may have won, but this doesn’t mean you will obey his every word.

“You are making this so much worse for you. You do know that, don’t you?” he challenges, looking at you with warning eyes. He looks scary, having this distinct gleam in his eyes, which he only gets when he is either in the midst of killing someone or when someone dares to question his leadership. You know not to be scared of it, on the contrary, it turns you on like nothing else.

“You won’t hurt me”, you challenge, feeling up his sculpted pecs.

Jimin chuckles deeply.

“No”, he states. He hooks his fingers in your shirt before he rips it at the front. You whine loudly, not having expected it, but loving the utter shit out of it. Your tits fall out of the ruined shirt, getting pressed against his chest. “but I can still make you whine like a little bitch”, he spits, turning your brain into a horny mess.

He leans closer to press a loving kiss to your nose before he makes it his task to suck on your tits. His hands grab both of them, massaging the flesh roughly.

“Ah, shit”, you moan, holding onto his shoulders so you wouldn’t fall. His touch leaves you weak, needy, aching for more. You want him, crave him, need him. You need him to force you to the ground and fuck you until you are crying his name. Even if he doesn’t let you cum, you don’t care, you just need to feel him inside of you, “don’t stop, please don’t stop”, you beg, arching your back.

Jimin’s plumb lips wrap around your left nipple after having left a trail of bite marks all over your chest. He sucks hard, pinching your right nipple while he is at it.

You gasp, arching your back and digging your fingernails into his shoulders. You are sure they will leave marks, judging by the sounds it draws out of Jimin.

“Baby”, the nickname you give each other every time you are intimate rolls of your tongue without regret.

He pulls you closer, flicking his tongue over your swollen nipple.

“Fucking fuck me”, you moan, shivering as just this moment his left hand grabbed your ass, squeezing it roughly.

He stops, moving his head away from your chest.

“Say it”, his voice is raspy and deep, making you to part your legs in reaction.

“Say what?”

He lifts his head to look at you. He squeezes your ass, before he slaps it so hard you fall forward into his chest with a quiet whimper leaving your lips. Fuck, you are dizzy.

“You know exactly what”, his hand travels further down your ass, closer to your clothed pussy.

Your legs part even more. You can feel the arousal soaking your panties. It’s embarrassing really, how easily Jimin manages to make you wet.

Of course you know what he wants to hear from you, this magical six-letter word which would mean your complete submission. Do you really want that? Is the humiliation of finally giving up worth the pleasure?

Jimin’s fingers brush over your pussy. Your body jolts into his touch, muscles tensing needily. Another touch, more confident than before. His finger glides over your clothed folds a few times before finally stopping at your clit. He doesn’t move, pressing it against your swollen bundle of nerves. Your legs are shaking, you feel dizzy, everything hurts. He needs to move or else you’ll lose it.

“Plea-Please”, you whisper, instantly regretting it because of the evil smirk it causes to appear on his face.

“See? That wasn’t hard at all”, he taunts, cupping your cheek. He strokes his thumb over your skin, the touch is gentle and soft. If you didn’t know Jimin any better, you would have believed this is your reward for being so obedient. In some way it is, but more so it is your reminder that despite all the rough stuff he'll do to you now, he loves you. New arousal drips out of you, ruining your panties and soaking his fingers, which are still pressed against your pussy.

His finger starts moving. The first wave of pleasure feels so intense that your knees give up on you. You almost fall down, clutching onto Jimin’s shoulders, his neck, his arm, anything your desperate hands can grasp. Your forehead is pressed against his sculpted chest, your eyes are shut tight. It feels so good, so fucking good.

“Someone’s eager to get fucked already”, Jimin chuckles, holding you by your waist and not once stopping his fingers from circling your clothed clit.

“Jimin, baby, please”, you whimper, circling your hips to get more friction.

“Mhm? What is it baby? You want me to stop?” he asks teasingly, stopping his movements.

“No!” you blurt out, snapping your head up to look at him in panic, “don’t stop, please don’t stop I need you”, your eyes tear up, your lip trembling, “fucking undress me you bastard and fuck me.”

Jimin smiles, resting his hands on your hips.

“You look so beautiful begging for me”, he breathes, dancing his hands to the front of your pants to unbutton them. He tugs them over your butt, letting you take over afterwards. You are stepped out of them instantly, looking at him with your body completely bared and your pussy covered in your juices.

“You’re so sexy”, he says, eyes lingering on your cunt. His eyes turn dark again afterwards, the soft expression from before gone, “on all fours now”, he points at the ground.

“But the gravel. It will hurt”, you protest.

“You want me to fuck you or not?” he sounds impatient, probably wanting to feel you just as much as you want him right now.

“Yeah. But I’m not letting my knees get destroyed just because of some dick, you doofus”, you retort. The angry gleam glistening in Jimin’s eyes makes you swallow. You rub your legs together, the desire to get fucked feels even stronger than before.

“Fine”, he says sighs dramatically, before he grabs your wrists and pulls you to the rocks.

You follow happily, staring at his butt the entire time.

He turns and grabs your shoulders, placing you right in front of them. With a strong push, he forces you to bend against them. One of his hands is on your back while the other is holding you by your hip. The stone feels warm on your skin. The sun must be getting stronger, now that midday nears.

“Is that better?” he asks, giving your ass a soft slap afterwards.

“Yeah, it’s fucking hot”, you moan, chasing his touch.

“Good”, he says as he lets his hand slip between your legs to part them, “do you really want this?”

“Yes, I really do. You?”

“It’s all I’m thinking about, baby.”

Excitement fills your body. You hold your breath, parting your legs even more. You wiggle your butt for him, earning a content groan from him. He is enjoying this just as much as you are. Good. You sure hope he does.

“You have the prettiest pussy, baby”, he praises, dragging his heavy cock through your folds, “can’t wait to pound her.”

“Just do it already, will you?”

“Oh trust me, I will”, he says, pushing his cock into you without warning.

“Fuck yes”, you groan, throwing your head back, “fucking fill me up, that’s so fucking good.”

He is slipping right in, stretching you out inch by inch. It feels amazing, sparks of hot pleasure course through your veins, your walls swallow him hungrily. A moan escapes both of you when he finally bottoms out, followed by a shaky inhale.

“You are so wet baby. Fuck, it’s driving me crazy”, Jimin moans, tightening the grip on your hips.

“Jimin”, too overwhelmed with the feeling of him finally inside of you to say anything other than his sweet name.

“Yes?” his voice is shaky, filled with desire.

“Please”, you really want to say more, tell him to fuck you senseless, but it would be too much work. Your mind is too hazy, your body shaking in the desire to get fucked.

Jimin understands, grasping your hips even tighter before he finally begins to move. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to his movements. There are no gentle rocks of his hips or soothing words, only the ruthless rutting of his hips against yours and animalistic grunts.

You didn’t need them anyways, you craved this feeling like lungs crave air. The slight burn that comes with getting handled so roughly and the sinful noises coming from where your bodies meet, his strong grip and girthy cock plugging your pussy. You want to feel it, want to get fucked until tears stream down your face. It’s what you deserve. Being leader is goddamn fucking hard and you deserve to get railed like an animal for it.

“Keep going! Yes! Fuck! So good!” you scream. Yes, you deserve this, you deserve to be fucked until you can’t talk anymore.

Jimin moans deeply, his movements falter for a moment before he finds his rhythm again. His arm snakes around your body, pulling you into his sweat covered chest. The new position drives his dick into you even deeper. He speeds up, grunting and groaning at the way your walls clench around him. Your head falls back against his chest, your fingernails digging into his forearm.

“You drive me fucking insane”, he growls, “your pussy’s my fucking drug.”

“Fuck Jimin, baby”, you squeal. You can feel the first tear roll down your cheek. It feels hot, collecting on your chin before falling onto your chest. That’s it, that’s exactly what you needed. The short outburst of hot pleasure every time his dick crazes against your g-spot, the shortage of breath his fast movements let you experience and the rough feeling of his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.

Fuck. You didn’t even notice his hand traveling down to your pussy until you could feel his slick-covered fingers on your clit. You scream out his name in surprise, wanting to fall forwards if it weren’t for Jimin holding you close and pressing you right against those rocks. You reach behind yourself, grabbing a bundle of his dark hair just to pull him closer. He rests his chin on your shoulder, burying his face in the nape of your exposed neck. His lips are pressed up against your skin, his deep growls tickle you every time it you fuck them out of him.

“Don’t stop please, please”, you sob, pulling at his hair and arching your body into his fuck.

“Fuck baby, you are clenching so hard”, he growls, pressing a kiss to your neck afterwards. His movements falter for a moment, getting slower, “you’re making it so fucking hard. My cock’s so sensitive, baby. So fucking sensitive”, he moans, speeding up the movements of his thumb to make up for his slowed-down hips.

“S-same”, you choke out, “cock’s so good. Y-your cock’s so…good.”

Your eyes are pressed shut, your breath held. Just a few more thrust of his hips and you will explode. So close you are so close, just a few more. Please.

Jimin lets out a guttural moan all of a sudden, stilling all of his movements. He whimpers, his voice high-pitched and his arms tightening, “I’m cumming”, he squeaks out, trembling behind you.

You can feel the hot spurts of his cum shoot out of him. No, no, no this is not happening. You will not be left hanging, not when you were that close. Not when you are aching that much.

“Please Jimin, please, please, please don’t. Please I want to cum please, please”, you beg desperately, pulling at his hair.

Tears are streaming down your face at this point, your breath comes out as panicked wheezes.

Jimin lets out a shaky breath, loosening his arms around your waist.

“Baby please, please touch me, please I want to cum, please”, you beg, holding his hand still pressed to your core so he wouldn’t be able to move it away.

You circle your hips in an attempt to get some sort of friction. It’s faint, just a gentle touch against your aching pussy, but it’s enough to leave you sighing.

“Baby it’s too much, ah fuck”, he whimpers, burying his face deeper in your neck. He is sensitive, wanting nothing more than to pull out of you and free his pulsating dick, but your clenching walls keep him trapped, forcing him to endure the torture that is you bringing yourself to orgasm. He should leave you hanging because he’s evil like that and he loves edging you just to completely annihilate you at night. But you have enchanted him. He wants to please you, wants to hear his name fall from your lips when you reach your high and wants you to force a second orgasm out of him. He knows he can cum again, he desires you so much, he wants to fill you up until you have enough.

“Make me cum please make me cum”, you choke out, pulling at his hair. You need him to move his fingers again, the friction his palm provides is not enough. You want more.

Jimin takes a shaky breath to brace himself before he starts moving again.

“You’ve got me fucking pussy high”, he lulls, pressing you so hard against the stones that you feel dizzy for a moment. He slams into you harshly, holding your trembling body while his fingers rub your throbbing clit.

A surprised yelp escapes your lips, your hand falling from his arm to instead scratch down the stone.

“Fuck, oh fuck, Jimin, fuck, baby”, your desperate screams mix with Jimin’s high-pitched moans and you are sure the whole camp knows exactly what is up by now. Not that you give a shit about that. Let them hear who fucks you that good. You're proud of it.

Your name falls from his lips like a mantra, it sounds addicting to your ears, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. The movements of his thumb are rough, spiked with desperation. It’s so hot, so so hot and exactly what you needed. You can feel the knot in your stomach tightening. It’s getting close to unbearable, your whole body tensing up and your legs shaking.

“Close, so close”, you sob, pulling him closer by his hair.

“Let go, I got you baby”, he grunts. His hips are faltering again, he must be close as well.

With the encouragement you needed, your orgasm overtakes you. Warmth fills your entire body as mind numbing pleasure squirts out of your pussy. His name leaves your lips like your own personal prayer, sounding clear at first until it turn into grateful sobs.

“Yes fuck, squirt for me baby. Fucking squirt for me”, he growls, fucking you hard and rough to make sure you can feel your high as intensely as possible.

He doesn’t last long, your pulsating walls are enough to drive him over the edge a second time, even more intense than the first. For a good second, he swears that he might actually break you from how strongly he cradles you. This is the best apology sex ever, he thinks as he pumps you full of his hot cum only to for you to squirt it right out again.

You are holding each other once you come down, both panting heavily and feeling too tired to break away. Quite frankly, the only thing still keeping you standing is the rock against which Jimin presses you. Your skin glistens in sweat, sticking to each other and your fingers are entangled, not wanting to let the other go.

“That was intense”, Jimin is the first one to speak. He chuckles breathily, kissing your shoulder afterwards, “fuck baby, you’re incredible.”

“It was, you are”, you murmur, turning your head so you would be able to look into his eyes. The faux anger from before is gone from his eyes, now nothing but the warmest fondness is burning in them.

“Was I able to get you to forgive me?” he asks, sounding nervous.

“Of course you were, baby. Gosh you are adorable”, you say, craning your neck to kiss his lips.

Jimin sighs into the kiss, hugging you against him.

“Loveyou”, his confession is muffled by the kiss.

“Loveyoutoo”, you answer him just as muffled, giggling with him now that those feel good emotions are setting in.

#jimin smut #jimin fanfic #jimin scenario #jimin oneshot #jimin x reader #jimin x you #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts oneshot #bts x reader #bts x you #bangtan smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan scenario #bangtan oneshot #bangtan x reader #bangtan x you #fanfic: kinktober22

849 notes · View notes

heartfullofleeches · 2 years

Note

I saw that you didn’t get the submissive empire or x reader so I’ll send my request again(my wifi has sucked just got new one) anyways, could you do a Yandere submissive worshipper emperor x fem(preferably) reader? Like where he sees her in his castle delivering baked goods to a friend or something and immediately falls in love. He has never been with anyone before and is a nervous wreck. Like he sees us walking away and request for information on us and figures out we’re a baker so he asks us to bring him baked goods and when we do he’s so flustered and like OMG HER HANDS WERE ON THIS and will literally do whatever we ask. So he asks us to work at the castle and he will employ someone to run our bakery and HE PAYS US BANK!! And he really loves us and spends as much time as he can in the kitchen admiring us and stuttering, meanwhile he will literally drag people to the dungeons to kill them if they make us uncomfortable or banishing them if they make moves… I’m just such a feen for submissive worshippers… thank you. And maybe him figuring out a way to court us and marry us.

( your gender is never mentioned so it's up to interpretation)

Dawn rises yet again for the sleepy kingdom. All is quiet from its court to within the castle walls. Servants work to get the day started for their ruler, and guards stood guard at their posts. Brave, nobel soliders who protect their land to their deaths. On this day he, the army stands taller than ever before, awaiting the recovery of their loyal general and the one who brought him the proper medication to cure the remainder of his ailments.

Marching up to the castle gates, a long figure ventures through the early morn. One of few soul to have risen at this hour aside from the castle staff. The soliders lower their guard, and blades as the frequent visitor approaches.

"Good morning, gentlemen."

"Morning, Y/n."

"I don’t think I have to do this considering how many times I've visited, but I'll stick to the route." You reach into a basket and retrieve a slip of paper sighting your grant to enter the emperor's castle, signed by the man himself. Course, it was never in person, but your business was important enough for him to sign off without question. The guard to your left nods in approval, stepping aside to let you in as the open the gates.

"All's good. Can you see if that old bastard is willing to share this time?

You smile. "I'll do my best."

Crossing the courtyard, you walk straight through the castle's open front door. The total family had enough pride in their guard to leave it open during the day. A lamp post falls behind you as you walk, but you think nothing of it as a passing maid picks it up. You venture down familiar paths, wish a fair morning to those you past, and make your way towards the infirmary. The door is slightly ajar; walls patted with white stone. Nearly every bed is empty except for the one at the very end of the second row. The patient moans from the confines of their bed, tossing and turning as best as their casts would allow.

"M..."

You quietly enter the room, unsure if the man was even awake. You set the basket down on the table beside him; his eyes fluttering open as you pull back the blanket covering its contents. The alluring smell of fresh baked and still cooling treats has the patient wide awake and fighting to sit up right.

"Y/n, my dear. Is that you?"

"Yes, sir. Brought your favorite as always." You help the aging man up and with grabbing one of the baked goods. A raspberry muffin - the general's favorite. He stopped by your bakery every morning for one before heading to the castle, this route broken by a broken leg and fractured ribs from an ambush of thieves. Since he refused the sorcerer's magic, he had to heal the normal way and was unable to stop by. Feeling pity for the man, you wake up bright and early every morning to do it for him.

The general wolfs down the muffin in a flash, reaching for another with a full mouth. "Thank you again for your assistance. Had I noticed a second earlier, those fools wouldn't have known what hit them."

You hold down a laugh. "You've told me this before. Everytime I've came if my memory serves me right."

Your deliveries have been going on for a few weeks by now. You'd grown used to the long walk, and had the additional bonus of getting to see the inside of the castle yourself. You didn't want to find your own benefit out of this horrible situation, but this was the chance of a lifetime for you. The servants were quite friendly, and while you had never seen the emperor everyone described him as fair. Unbeknownst to you, however, he had seen you.

The emperor watches you from the crack in the door, labored breathes heating its lock. His hands were sweat; throat dry. A blush dusts the man's cheeks; fingers edging towards the doorknob.

When he first heard you, the emperor wrote you off as the general's child, or even a young partner as unsettling as the thought was. He signed off on your visitations without batting an eye just to get that old coot to stop complaining. The first time he actually saw you - he knew he was in love.

The poor emperor had little experience in the field, but upon laying eyes on you that was the best way to describe the flame in the pit of his stomach. You were stunning, and the light of the early sun brought your natural beauty out like no other. He fell deeper in love with every new thing he found out about you. Your voice, your occupation, your name. He absolutely had to have you - but he was afraid.

Such a gem like you would never go for someone like him even if it was crown ruler of yourkingdom. He fear spilling all the desire in his chest from just saying hello to you. No, he must steel himself. A proper leader walks into situations with their head held high - no matter how badly their legs trembled just by looking at the problem ahead. Today was the day he would finally meet you or he'd cast himself into the nearest well for missing the opportunity again.

The turn of the doorknob catches both the general's and your attention. Surprise crosses your face at the sight of the visitor, while the general merely slumps back against his pillow. The emperor was his most common guest, always asking on and on about you. He always wondered if he would show his face.

"Y-your highness! Good morning." You dip your head in a formal greeting for your king. The emperor's flush darkens. Having you bow to him felt like an angel kneeling to a sinner. Wrong, but a boost in confidence for the latter party.

"There's no need for that. I've... just come to see how my valued general is doing. Who might you be and what is your business here?"

"Y/n. The general is a dear friend of mine as well, and I have been bringing him treats to help with his recovery."

The emperor's expression darkens at the use of the word "friend", but it passes quickly as he replays your name in his head. It's one that's run over his tongue countless times, but to hear you say it too him made it sound even more enchanting.

"I see. I was wondering where he got all those sweets. I haven’t eaten breakfast myself.. Do you mind if I try one?

With the question thrown into the air, you look towards the general for an answer. He simply shrugs. Seeing that that the best you'll get, you retrieve a muffin from the basket and offer it to the emperor. You worry you took the worry approach as he's hesitant to take it, but who would be reluctant to accept a gift from a God as unworthy mortal? He finally takes it, sparks shooting up his arm as your fingers graze together.

The emperor takes a bit of the sweet. Its still a bit warm, and melts on his tongue as he chews. The cake has a nice, soft texture; blending well with the fruity aftermath of the raspberries. Despite having just finished breakfast, he greedy scarfs it down and licks the crumbs from his fingers. That was the best muffin he had ever tasted. He could feel the passion and love for the craft that you poured into each step of the process. The emperor feels tears burning at the corners of his eyes; overcome with bliss.

"That was... amazing."

"I'm happy you enjoyed it, your highness." You beam. "Unfortunately, I have to leave soon so I can open my bakery in time for the morning rush."

The emperor's spirits crash instantly. "Why the rush? The day is still young."

"That is true, but my shop and home are on the far end of the town."

He's taken aback by this. Such a distance and you cross it everyday for a useless man like the general? You truly were a saint. The emperor would allow you to suffer that journey no longer; for your own comfort and the self pleasure of having you close.

"That's insanity. Why don't I hire you to become the royal baker? I can pay you well. Five time more than what you make in a normal week."

"While the offer is nice, I have a lot of people depending on me for goods and there's still the fact my home is in the same location."

The emperor immediately backtracks; his anxieties bubbles to the surface as he stammers. "Erm- well, we can have people deliver to your shop, and find residence closer or even in the castle if you'd prefer."

You can have his bedroom if you wanted it. You think the offer over, smiling as you come to your conclusion."

"Okay."

The following day, all of your belongings were moved into a cabin still on the castle grounds, and you were appointed as royal baker. It's funny to think how your life changed so quickly. The move is a dream come true for you both, as the emperor now gets to wake up everyday and see you busy at work. When he didn't have his own duties to attend to, he was hovering over you while you worked away. There's nothing he wouldn’t give to be able to massage your sore joints after a hard day at work.

The emperor had your own kitchen built away from the main, but until it was complete you worked there as well. You hardly saw anyone during your time there, and few people talked to you. One particular nasty chef got on your case about you using what they considered to be their whisk, but you never saw them again after the encounter.

The emperor claimed he didn't have any favorites as all of your creations had their own charms, but you noticed how his eyes would light up more whenever you brought him custard tarts. He practically drools onto your shoulder whenever he sees you with the ingredients for them. Wishing to develop your relationship with him further, you offer to teach him how to do with which he eagerly accepts.

"L-like this, Y/n?"

The emperor cracks an egg against the side of the bowl, separating the yolk and the whites between the shells. His hands shake, feeling your eyes over his shoulder. He wanted to do his best for you despite how trivial the task was, and that notion is what let to his downfall. He pushes a little too hard on one half of the shell as he concentrates, breaking it in the palm of his hand.

"Ack!- I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay! It okay." You sooth. You had picked up on the emperor's softer side and his strange need for your approval your first week on the job. You grab a stray towel and clean his hands off for him. The emperor thought he had his emotions under control by now, but your touch throws that balance out the window. He shutters from your warmth, afar cry from the man that banished a servant for just talking to you not even a day prior. Your body draws close to his as you remove all of the yolk, and all he can think about is how soft your lips must be.

The emperor keeps that little ounce of control. He would sooner kiss the bottom of your shoe than go for that at this moment in time - might even prefer it if no one's around. How could he ask your hand someday if he got worked up for something so miniscule. You really did had this man wrapped around your pinky finger - and without even realizing.

Once you finish cleaning up, you have the emperor sits this one out. He still wonders behind you, uttering praises for everything little thing you did. It was only the surface level of how deep his devotion and loyalty for you truly went.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere insert #male yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere emperor x reader #Yandere emperor #Yandere drabble #yandere fic

715 notes · View notes

accio-victuuri · 1 year

Text

CPN : 3/24 LRLG Post

As if the excitement that we all have today, the eve of Weibo Night where they will be at the same event isn’t enough, LRLG had to go ahead and bless us with an update. A very recent one at that. Usually, the contributions shared to us are events that happened months ago. This is why we are able to match which is which fairly easily or notice something we haven’t before.

It starts of saying “today”, meaning this happened 3/24, XZ’s arrival in Shanghai. I have thoughts on LRLG deciding to share this today and who allowed it. If we’re going by the assumption/speculation/clownery— whatever you wanna call it, that these contributions are sent out with xz/wyb’s “blessing” then there must be a reason why they are switching from the usual pattern. They could have easily shared this after the whole weibo night craziness. As what they did in previous events, but they didn’t. So what’s changed? I’m not looking at this as a negative in any way, I am just curious. Did they see how excited BXGs are so decided to give us something? Are they also just dying to be in one place again so they are sharing this happiness to us? No matter the answer, All I can say is : “Bless Shanghai!🙏🏼”

now onto the fake rumor itself. same disclaimer applies. this is all fan fiction. ‼️

It starts with a phone conversation ( i think ) between the boys and it’s mostly yibo. As you will notice in this entire scene/s, it’s all on WYB’s perspective ( literally only one red circle in the entire post ) so again, we have an additional “clue” that this lrlg person is from wyb’s team.

WYB: "Wear more when you come"

XZ: "Okay, I'll use it for you..."

WYB : "sock"

WYB: "I can't see your news anymore, you tell xx"

WYB: "good"

This exchange is so simple and sweet. Their love language is being attentive towards each other and what the other might need, even as “simple” as needing extra clothes to wear because of the weather. And so GG decides to wear a Tod’s biker jacket that makes him look so sexy instead ( as seen in photos / videos of him boarding the plane today and arriving ). 😂😂😂 I mean, WYB & I are not complaining with his choice of clothes but I hope it does keep him warm. and GG’s “ i’ll use it for you..” he really can’t say No to his puppy. He will do it if his puppy wants it. I just. I’m done with them.

The next part is his staff ( a woman based on the emoji ) is saying how unfortunate it is that he has work today and he is mildly pissed that has to because if he didn’t, then he can pick GG up at the airport. I mean. That’s interesting. I wonder if he did that before and i’m surprised at how brave he is to even consider “planning” to do that out of all days. It’s the day before WB night, paps are waiting for all the celebrities to arrive at the airport so if he goes — there is a higher chance for him to get spotted compared to just the normal day. Or maybe he knows the ins & outs already as he’s almost always filming in Shanghai over the past years so he might know how to make it happen.

Then you have a scene where people are playing cards, and I think there is drinks involved. but he ( wyb ) can’t come and join because he has works. The people are telling him to try and join because tomorrow ( WB night ) is busy and there will be lots of material to shoot. I just love WYB’s dedication to work and cackling at the emojis LRLG is using for him — I can totally picture his face like this and going “what are you all doing???”

in the meantime when the subject is XZ, he all sweet smiles.

and this exchange is just too much —

WYB: "Get me the power bank"

👧"Hurry up and play, you won't be interested in playing with your phone tomorrow.

WYB: What are you talking about?"

👧: Would you like to see how you smile now

WYB: XZ is coming why won’t i be smiling.

and he goes on to say 恋爱脑 with that smiley face. I don’t know if he’s fuckin trolling himself at this point, because this is same/similar label said about him by that yangyang paparazzi. the same one he refuted was false because they were saying he single then the next sentence has ambiguous relationship with an older woman and so on.

so i am looking at this like, he’s trolling and this only applies to GG. It’s not necessarily real for him, cause i highly doubt it— looking at how they live and thrive as individuals too. He’s using it and also making fun of that ridiculous rumor spread about him.

HIS SMILE THO MUST BE LIKE THIS :

he just smiles differently when it’s connected to ZZ. I think no one can deny that. It’s so radiant ✨✨✨

I AM ALSO CURIOUS ABOUT WHAT THIS EXCHANGE MIGHT MEAN: ( the people talking aside from wyb is his staff )

“Those who didn’t know thought that xx stole our boss”

"they're here"

"it's here"

WYB : "Finish xx this afternoon, we will record together tomorrow"

"I have sorted it out and sent it to xx for confirmation, no problem with me

WYB "Good job"

WYB "What time will the filming be, you can tell me when the time comes"

Shoot with who? I mean, I’m not really expecting XZS to share a bts of XZ’s photoshoot because they are together soooo ( based on this cpn ).

The next is his his ( wyb ) staff telling him they will prepare food for him and put it in the car cause it will be hard to eat tomo because of the show and how busy it would be. They said they will fix just small things he can carry and also provide him warmer. Awwww. They are so sweet and caring of Bobo 🥹

AND LAST IS THIS EXCHANGE :

👩🏻‍🦰: “you are really so happy today”

🟢: “im happy every day”

👩🏻‍🦰: “nonono there is a difference”

🟢: “😊”

👩🏻‍🦰: “that’s great”

I’m thinking this girl who commented is probably part of the cast/crew. not sure why i get the feeling, cause the emoji is different form his staff. lol. I’m so giddy thinking about yibo being all radiant and happy knowing that he will be with ZZ very soon. ☺️

LRLG also has a message for us at the end:

Be Safe. Have a long and fun weekend!

What a great treat to all turtles, setting all of us in a good mood before the day of the show. I have no expectations. I’m looking forward to seeing what they will wear and to see the photos. I’m proud of the awards/ recognition they will get — all well deserved. everything else is just a bonus. 💕

-END.

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here folks im just clowning like i always do #all of this is cpn #how dare you drop this on a friday when im busy lol

171 notes · View notes

ghostoffuturespast · 4 months

Text

Works In Progress 2023: A Cyberpunk 2077 Year In Review

I thought for a hot minute about doing one of those snazzy templates that’s been going around, but editing photos just ain’t my MO and rather than going by month I picked 12 favs that I’ve posted in 2023. Some of them were popular, some of them weren't. Overall, I think I did pretty good for just doing vanilla photomode on console.

You might be wondering why there's a picture of a sticky note. I don't remember when I started doing this, and I'm horribly inconsistent as you can see by the dates, but I'll jot down my word count for my wip chapter and then jot it down again when I remember to later.

I write slow. A lot of times I sit down to write and it feels like the wheels are spinning in place. My minutes and hours don't stretch very far, typically don't add up to much. But days, weeks, months. That's when I can at least measure the progress.

Fic: So It Goes 40/44 - 438,946 words

My V x River Ward and tinfoil hat conspiracy theory long fic. I've spent way more hours on this then I have on any of my VP.

I got tagged by @just-a-cybercroissant @therealnightcity and @wanderingaldecaldo to do some WIP Whenevers. I post my VP pretty regularly, so it’s always seemed silly to do work in progress posts for them, and I don’t know when I’ll have any new writing to share since in between work and the holidays, I haven’t had much time to sit down with anything since my last chapter update. And I've been feeling very... stingy, lately. Especially when it comes to mine and other people's writing. So take this WIP/Year In Review as my offering. Both these series, as am I, are all very much still works in progress.

I confined my reflections for this year below the cut. If you don’t want to read my long-ass essays, you can admire the pictures, maybe check out my fic, or just move along and have yourself a lovely day.

We’ll start with the easy one.

After at least a year of multiple playthroughs (I’ve played all the lifepaths, done all the endings), it only occurred to me at the beginning of this year to start taking VP. Part of the reason I never did before was because I didn’t realize it was a thing and then by the time I did, I figured I didn’t have much to offer. I play on PS5 and only have access to vanilla photomode, so seeing everyone else’s high-fidelity, ultra ray-tracing, modded, posed, full on virtual photo shoot photos, I was like there’s no way. (Not that I’m hating on PC modders, it’s just not everyone has access to mods or a PC capable of running the game, and I’m all for making art and creative endeavors accessible.) On top of that, all I’d ever heard from most other folks was how much vanilla photomode sucked. In the glamorous world of VP, I didn’t think there was any room for me.

But I started snapping pics anyway. And sure, there are a lot of limitations with vanilla photomode. But what that really translates to is opportunities to get creative. I am also a hoe for subverting people’s expectations, and very much believe when there’s a will, there’s a way.

Environmental and landscape shots were my first subjects before I started branching out into portraits and then capturing story moments. Through VP I found an entirely new way to enjoy a game that I’d already played a ridiculous number of times along with also finally being brave enough to share my V with other people too. I’d always worried about that before, if people would like her. Granted, I know Grandpa’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but whether you like her or not, I certainly think she’s made a name for herself over the past few months. Even if most people haven’t really gotten to know her the way I’d hoped.

I’ve taken hundreds of photos this past year. Most of which I’ll never share. There’s a lot of flops, a lot of weird experiments, ones that didn’t quite turn out the way I’d hoped, but I’ve learned something from every single one of them. I know how to spot good lighting, frame shots to create optical illusions, get a very limited toolkit to work in my favor, parkoured on all of the things, and heck, I even figured out how to make Grandpa smooch other NPCs. I’ve done atmospheric, mundane, down right goofy, as well as things that most people probably thought weren’t fucking possible.

I can’t say how long I’ll keep doing this, I’m sure I’ll move on at some point, but for now I’m still enjoying myself. There's a lot to explore in this game and I just can’t stop digging Night City.

Now, for the more complicated thing.

Writing

So It Goes… My peace, my war, my greedy and most ravenous of ghosts.

I’m operating under the assumption that most people following me here probably haven't read my fic or aren’t all that interested in reading it to begin with. It’s fine. But you need to understand this fic, my writing, is the main thing that brought me here. This is also Grandpa V’s story. Most of you have met her, but unless you've been reading, most of you do not know her.

I wrote around 185,000 words and posted 10 chapters this year. 2022 was about 253,000 words and 30 chapters, along with several unrelated one shots. However, I don’t think I’ve done a single chapter this year that was less then 10k, and my longest managed to hit 27k. As of the last update I posted, the fic is currently sitting at around 439k words, 40 chapters, and still isn’t done.

I have four more chapters to write. I have written a metric shit ton of words. This is, by far, the longest and most intense creative project I’ve ever endeavored to complete.

When I started writing, I was expecting this fic to be around 100-150k. That seemed to be the average for most long fics. I did not plan on being an outlier. I'm not sure you can ever really plan for that, but I guess I enjoy subverting my own expectations too.

For those of you who are reading my fic, it is my sincerest hope that it shatters every expectation of where you think it’s going. It’s not a joke that I tagged my fic “#an ode to my tinfoil hat”. An ode it has turned out to be. I’ve been sitting on this theory for two years. I have told no one about it. I hope it sticks the landing and hits the way I want it to. I don't know if it will. But fuck, I just want to be done with it so I can move on with my life, take a break, and give myself the opportunity to make and focus on other things before I have to get back on the damn horse.

I wrote less this past year then I did in 2022. I had a lot of life changes, most of which were good, but with times of change come times of adjustment. Along with some realizations that maybe you don’t understand as much as you thought you did. Looking back, I’ve been in a state of unsettled, kuzushi, for a really long time. Which is not a good place to be. It’s how your ass ends up on the ground with a knee knocking out all your teeth. I thought I knew better. Thought I had enough practice to get away from it. But bad habits have good memories.

I think given the circumstances, I accomplished a lot with my writing this year. I don’t know if my writing is exactly where I want it to be. I doubt it every will be, but it’s evolved, grown, and I wrote a pretty hefty stack of words considering I started working full-time again, bought a house with my partner, moved, and have been dealing with the millions of other beans that life tends to throw one’s way. That being said, and for full disclosure, I’ve also been dealing with some of the worst cases of jealousy and envy I’ve had since I was a teenager.

Frankly, it sucks. They walk with me every fucking where I go, hold my hands to whisper back all my doubts. Try to persuade me to my baser instincts, to be cruel and lash out. But that's not aikido. Luckily, I’m not 16 anymore so it’s at least been easier for me to identify the problem. Though I’m still coming up short in terms of actually being able to do anything about it, and will be for at least a few months more.

Yeah, I keep talking about it because I don’t know how many people know that I've been feeling this way. And I’m tired of not talking about it in a room full of creatives, because yeah, I know I’m not the only one that feels this way. And not talking about it just makes all that pent up resentment worse for everyone.

Don’t get me wrong, I love writing. But with the way I work and think, it’s a slow, tedious, and incredibly time-consuming art. With how much my fic has snowballed over the course of writing, it’s left very little room for the other hobbies in my life. And as my fellow writers probably already know, writing is an incredibly insular craft. And unlike a picture or an image, which only requires a glance, reading a bunch of words requires time and commitment.

So, when you put yourself out there and share what you wrote, it’s a lonely feeling not knowing whether or not anyone connected with what you put on the page. Especially, when the people who do read aren’t compelled to voice anything and when the people you’d hope would read don’t. And then you're stuck in the dark, not knowing, because neither of us says a goddamn thing.

I started writing this fic prior to actually joining the CP2077 fandom. And I joined the fandom because I felt alone. I’ve been here a while now, albeit in a few different places, and that feeling still hasn’t gone away. I’m still trying to find camaraderie with my fellow writers and carve out something that kinda sort of resembles a home or a sense of community. I watch my peers around me as they seem to build that with each other, except me.

I’m envious of the things that people make and jealous of the relationships those have created and fostered between said people, because for the life of me, it’s been a struggle to cultivate that since I got here. I know it’s selfish, but I also don’t know what about me makes people so hesitant. There have been a handful of strangers that have shown up for me regularly, but as far as people I call friends in this fandom that have shown up and actually stuck around, I can only name one right now. (I know we're all busy. And I acknowledge my writing's not for everyone. I know maybe some of you are quiet, or shy, or probably a thousand other things. I get it. But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt any less. People will never know unless you say. Never know unless you take the time to interact or engage. Be brave. And that's true for a lot of things.)

The propensity is for the negative to outweigh the positive. I've got a lot of numbers on my fic, so you would think things would be fine, but at this point they just feel empty. They don't bring me any comfort or real satisfaction. And I hate feeling like the people I know don’t care and that most of you are just talking around me. That I’m some kind of annoyance not fit to interact with. Which may or may not be the case. I don’t know. Again, most of you have never said anything. And maybe I need to accept the fact that most of you never will.

But this is me trying to start conversation.

It’s really shitty, knowing that the thing I want the most is also the thing holding me back. I know how to work on it too, not that it’s any guarantee. The problem is I’m still writing and in a needy state of greed. And because I’m slow, I don’t have the time or the energy to be generous. I can only take right now. I can’t give.

Relationships require both.

I can’t bring myself to read other people’s writing. I can’t comment, or like, or share if I haven’t read anything. I'm desperate for conversation, but I also don't have the time or assurance to facilitate it with other people right now. And for some reason people never seem to want to talk to me, especially when it comes to writing. I want to be part of conversations, talk deeply with other people. But I can’t speak right now, I'm not in a place to offer generosity without someone first giving it to me.

And generosity and grace is what we all need.

Four more chapters and I hope my ghosts will finally let me read in peace.

#cyberpunk 2077 #2023 year in review #year in review #virtual photography #writing #from the top #fic: so it goes #long post #i can't guarantee a safe space but i can guarantee a brave space #if anyone's been feeling similarly and wants to talk about it my dms are open #the door's always open

34 notes · View notes

jemmo · 1 year

Text

utsukushii kare really said we’re going to take two of the most fascinating, interesting, well-characterised characters to have ever been written and not just stick them in the same show, but put them in one of the most incredible relationships to be seen on screen and i cannot thank them enough for it. seriously, if you consider the fact that at this point we’re at ep 8 of a 30 minute runtime show; that’s 4 hours. i’ve watched other bls, heck even other ordinary shows, that can’t even cram enough characterisation into a character that hira or kiyoi have in their little fingernail. im not joking. and nothing shows that better than kiyoi in this ep.

i love that we’re already getting an episode from his perspective. we had to wait all the way until ep 4 of season 1 to see things from his side, and that was such an amazing twist and reveal and still to this day that ep makes me cry. but im so glad we get to see his perspective sooner. bc we don’t need that shock twist anymore, instead it serves as a good balance to see where both our characters are at in the first 2 eps. and yet again, seeing things from kiyoi’s pov just opens up the absolute treasure trove that is his character. there are so many stand out points from this ep that i wanna mention but I’ll wait until my big ‘favourite parts of utsukushii kare s2 ep2’ post to list them all. what i wanna say here is that every bit of his character we get to see in this ep comes together so well to create such an interesting, multi-faceted and well-rounded character that it’s kind of astounding. we start off with his softness and vulnerability that’s countered perfectly against hira’s timid reaction, and then we jump back to high school to see this full on longing and the frustration that comes with that, waiting to be confessed to. i wanted to say this about the first season but this serves a good opportunity too; I find it so interesting how they portray hira and kiyoi’s ‘seme and uke’ dynamic (im gonna use those terms bc i can’t think of any better way to describe it, just know im referring more to a more dominant vs more submissive personality, like the confesser vs the confesse, and not anything sexual). You could so easily watch this show, hear the premise, even see the characters, hira and his chronic shyness, kiyoi and his undeniable popularity, and easily place those labels; hira the uke, kiyoi the seme. but in reality, kiyoi so clearly wants to be the uke, and very much is the uke. he begs in his head for hira to confess his feelings fo him, half bc maybe he needs hira to be brave where he can’t be, but I think also half bc he just wants to be confessed to. He wants the boy he likes to tell him he likes him, just like he wants to cuddle in his lap and be looked after. it probably stems from this want to be loved, chosen to be loved, and be cared for where he felt he wasn’t before, but it’s just so refreshing and such an interesting subversion of expectations, to see inside cool, popular kiyoi’s head and it’s just him begging for this shy, nobody kid to like him, and say it out loud.

and then I’ve touched on this before, but you get to see his earnest drive and passion to do what he loves. the cool kid that should fit the stereotype of never caring about anything, pushing to do the thing he loves, putting himself out there. I just can’t describe how excellent of a subversion that is. and the way he is with people at work, with Anna, polite and cordial and sweet, it’s such a reverse of kiyoi’s tsundere shortness and bluntness with hira that it not only shows us that yes, we weren’t hallucinating, there really is an infinite pool of softness within kiyoi that pours out more and more every time we see him, but also shows us that kiyoi is maybe only his true self with Hira. he’s not this polite, nice boy, nor is he this cool, cold popular guy, he’s somewhere in the middle, a fascinating mix of both, that only hira gets to see the full extent of, and I think that says a lot about how comfortable he is with Hira, and how much he trusts him. as much as it may be bad that hira will never find fault with kiyoi, it also makes him his sanctity, his true safe place, where he can breathe and grow and truly be whatever he wants, soft, angry, cute, cool, vulnerable, hira will take it all and adore it no matter what.

and then we get his jealousy of koyama, his protectiveness and possessiveness of hira. it’s kind of endearing how he still feels these things when hira shows him such endless devotion, it’s a testament to how normal he sees their relationship compared to hira, and how he therefore allows himself to feel normal relationship things, including possessiveness. but also in this scene i really love how kiyoi is let’s himself doubt himself, and only when it comes to hira. i feel like we’ve only ever seen him been unsure of himself when it comes to the things he loves, namely his dream of being a performer, and hira. he only looses confidence when he doesn’t do well in the competition in high school, and is only ever doubtful when it comes to hira’s feelings about him, and how he is with hira, maybe bc they’re the only things he truly wants to last forever. so what does he do, just like he does with his acting career? he puts in sincere effort. he humbles himself taking that recipe from koyama, and despite his cluelessness and clear lack of skills, he still tries his absolute hardest to do something for hira. he cooks him a meal, one of the most ordinary and sincere expressions of love. and his shy smile the whole time, him waiting excitedly for hira to come home, it’s such a fantastically endearing contrast from the cold, removed kiyoi we know early in s1 that you almost can’t reconcile them as the same character, and yet the steps that got us here make it clear that they are in fact the same person, that both those people live inside kiyoi and that’s amazing. and of course something as ordinary as cooking a meal for your boyfriend can never be normal for hira and kiyoi but the chaos unfolds is what makes them absolutely them. it mirrors what kiyoi says at the start of the ep about Hira, ‘if it wasn’t disgusting, it wouldn’t be hira’. It’s the same for kiyoi, and the same for their relationship. they don’t want to change it fundamentally, don’t want to take away the things that make it them, they just want to find a way to take this thing they both want and love and build it, strengthen it, so it can last. and i’ll say it until I’m blue in the face, but that’s why kiyoi’s personality, his bluntness, works so well for hira. it provides this iron wall of reassurance based in truth that he needs. I think ‘im not dating a pebble’ might be my stand out line from a bl in 2023 already but it’s also so ridiculously laced in meaning. Kiyoi doesn’t see hira as just some rock, some insignificant thing on the side of the road, that’s not what he’s dating. He’s dating hira, the person. And I think this push for hira to see himself as a person is only something that kiyoi can do because, in a way, hira was the one to see Kiyoi first. I’m a different way, because of the complex hira still has around kiyoi, he may not be a person yet, but hira still saw him in a way no one else did because he cared enough to look and keep looking. He stared and stared at every bit of kiyoi, including the uncool parts, the embarrassing parts, the sweet parts, the upset and angry parts, he’s the one that saw it all and never once looked away. The invisible kid made him feel seen. And I think for someone that’s always looked at but never seen, that’s what you really want.

So yes, this may have collapsed into another ramble, but I hope I can just convey some of the sense of how whole of a character kiyoi feels, even just by the points in this ep. And I just love that he’s allowed to be it all, be chaotic and messy and imperfect and a work in progress while still helping hira along too. I’ve never seen a bl couple that feel so much like they’re growing together, figuring themselves out as people and as a couple and it’s just so fucking refreshing and interesting and beautiful to watch and i will never ever shut up about it

#here’s your weekly ‘im so in love with utsukushii kare it’s unreal’ rant #and I call this the kiyoi edition #seriously he’s my favourite character in anything ever #and I would do anything literally anything to see him happy #oh god im down so bad #utsukushii kare #utsukushii kare 2 #my beautiful man #my beautiful man 2

274 notes · View notes