#so you're talking to the whole system here man
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NEW JOB
pairing: gojo satoru/reader
wc: 7.1k
summary: starting a new job is always hard, especially when you're tasked with a glorified babysitting role for the most powerful sorcerer and his antics, but what happens when you somehow find yourself growing oddly attached to his weird behaviours and teasing nature
a/n; i am obsessing over this 2d man and i cannot be stopped, come near me and i'm infecting you with thoughts of him. anyways! new blog so i can write for jjk hehehhohoh (i wrote this in a single sitting because i'm mentally unwell)
warnings: 18+ only, smut, making out, dry humping, hickeys, dirty talk, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, big dick gojo (duh), creampie, afab!reader, she/her pronouns used, no use of y/n, nicknames
MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT
Why you were here, you had no clue… well you did, you just wish you didn’t have to be here but being forced to do this was putting it lightly. It’s frustrating because they act like you don’t have your own jobs to handle but now you’re being forced to be Gojo Satoru’s handler as well. This is going to be a much more taxing job than exorcising any curse, why he insisted on pissing off the higher ups is beyond you. Not that you’re completely innocent in those regards, mind you.
You’re sat waiting in Yaga’s office, waiting for a certain someone who treats showing up on time as optional. Looking at the clock behind Yaga, you see it’s bordering on 15 minutes since he was supposed to be here.
You deflate slightly with your quiet sigh, “Do I really need to be h–”
“–Yes,” is the only reply you get out of the man in front of you, eyes unreadable but based on the aura of the room, he’s beyond pissed.
Sinking further into your seat, you murmur about how annoying all of this is, it’s meant for Yaga to hear but he ignores you. Seeing Gojo is going to take years off your life, you’ve crossed paths with him many times in the past few years, he has a bad habit of interrupting your exorcisms, finishing them, and then getting on your nerves.
The door behind you slides open and shut loudly, making your heart lurch inside your chest, while you outwardly fight the urge to flinch. Gojo moves in behind you and leans down, “Didn’t scare you, did I?” There’s an annoying mirth in his tone as he carelessly rounds the seat and sits far too close to you.
You don’t spare him a glance, “No.”
He smiles at you knowingly but says nothing more, finally addressing Yaga, “What’s up?”
“You’re late,” Yaga takes in a deep breath, fighting the urge to yell at him.
Gojo’s smile grows, his words picked carefully to piss the pair of you off more, “Well, I know that part, I meant why am I being summoned here.”
You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, “Why is he only being informed of this now?” You ask, irritated with not only Gojo but the whole damn system. You were told nearly two weeks ago that this was happening, how hadn’t he been told until now.
Yaga looks at you like it should be fairly obvious why they waited and you guess it is, he’s blind-sided this way, he doesn’t have a chance to wriggle out of it when today is the official first day of your new job babysitting Gojo Satoru and his first-year students. Oh, this is just perfect for you and not foreboding at all.
Before you have a chance to speak again, Yaga says, almost like he’s delighting in how inconveniencing this will be for Gojo, that, “You now have a teaching assistant, Gojo. You will be monitored as well as your students and everything will be reported back to me.”
“Ah, a glorified babysitter, how lovely,” Gojo’s smile doesn’t drop but it does look more strained.
Yaga doesn’t take kindly to his tone, “Watch it, this is fully deserved and you know it.”
“I’ve done nothing,” he defends himself.
You scoff slightly at that and Gojo side eyes you, you make an active effort to avoid his gaze though and instead focus on what Yaga is saying, “After that stunt you pulled with faking Itadori’s death recently, you’re lucky to be getting off so easy.”
Gojo jabs his thumb in your direction, “So what’s her punishment for then?”
You finally look at him, “Excuse me?”
“Well, I don’t imagine this is something one signs up for, so what did you do to piss off the higher ups,” his smile is teasing and so is his tone.
You squint at his stupid blindfold before looking back at Yaga, “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Yaga coughs at your statement but doesn’t let Gojo’s endless amusement at your suffering continue, “What may or may not have happened is none of your business Gojo–”
“–Ah, so something did happen then,” he elbows at your shoulder and you grumble at him.
Yaga completely ignores Gojo’s antics, “Your only concern is to be accommodating and keep her in the loop.”
He waves a hand easily, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” he brushes off the conversation with a sceptical nonchalance. His palms hit his knees as he pulls himself off the seat, “Is that all?”
Yaga pauses, watching him carefully for a moment before acquiescing, “Yes, that’s all, get out.”
“Come on, troublemaker, you have three adorable first years to meet!” his tone is too chipper and you don’t take kindly to his nickname for you but you stand from the seat and bow at Yaga before following behind him.
⸝⸝⸝
You are… uncomfortable, to say the least. The three first years sit in front of you, confused and waiting for some kind of explanation but Gojo just leans against the lectern, amused smile plastered on his face. You’re nervous, children can be so… scary, they were scary when you were their age and now you’re getting stage fright, in front of three people.
Gojo giggles behind you, granting some mercy… his version of mercy anyways, “We have a new addition to the class!”
“She’s… a student?” The one you recognise as Itadori tilts his head in question.
You can hear the glee drip from Gojo’s voice, “Well in some ways–”
“–No.” You cut him off abruptly, “I am… uhm, a teaching assistant… of sorts…”
The girl, very clearly unamused, questions further, “And what are you gonna be doing?”
You freeze up, you do know what you’re meant to be doing but you’re getting shy, you’ve never been good at being put on the spot.
Gojo finally moves from behind the lectern and places a hand on your shoulder, “She’s basically… my babysitter!” He announces, large smile on his face.
The students look… completely not shocked, like they expected something like this to happen at some point.
“I am here to help though! So, if you have questions or want someone to spar against or if Gojo is unavailable and you need help on a mission, I am here to be of service,” you smile lightly, trying to be kind. If you’re going to be here, you want to be of some use.
Itadori nods in thought, “So, are you strong?”
You feel warm in the face at the question, it’s not something you’ve ever been asked really. You think you are, you’re definitely capable but you’re nowhere near Gojo.
While deep in thought, Gojo replies for you, “Yes.” His reply is simple and leaves them all with more questions.
You throw a glance at Gojo before answering for yourself, “I am capable and willing to help.”
⸝⸝⸝
Your first introductions went better than you expected, you quite like them all, even the quiet one who’s always in a bad mood. Things would’ve gone better if Gojo didn’t delight in teasing you in front of them all, it’s embarrassing to be poked and prodded at for some kind of a reaction, you mean, isn’t he meant to be an adult for crying out loud.
It’s only been about a week and a bit into you ‘babysitting’ Gojo and you think he might be attempting to annoying you into quitting but that isn’t an option for you. The kids are sparring on the open field and Gojo is at your side, poking the side of your face with a mischievous smirk plastered on his. He’s been trying and failing to get a reaction out of you for the past 10 minutes.
“Gojo, is there something you want from me, or are you just waiting for me to try and smack you,” Turning your body, you face him completely, your hands on your hips.
He shoves his hand behind his back quickly, trying to play it off like he wasn’t just poking your cheek, “I don’t know what you mean.”
Sighing you continue, “If you’re trying to annoy me into quitting, you’re going to find that awful difficult, I have to be here.”
“Quite the contrary, I like having you here, troublemaker,” he smiles, leaning against the tree behind him.
“It doesn’t feel like it,” you grit out.
He hums lightly, “That’s just cause you’re not used to my love language.”
Raising a brow at him, you ask, “Your love language is being absurdly annoying?”
“Now you’re getting it,” he pokes you directly on your nose and you exhale sharply, twisting your lips to hide any hint of amusement. Turning back to the students you resume ignoring him, which he huffs dejectedly at, “If you’re gonna be watching over me for a while, you may as well get used to talking to me, I think I’m quite enjoyable.”
“Of course you would think that,” you retort.
“Ouch,” he grabs his chest, pretending to be wounded, he pushes off the tree and hangs an arm over both your shoulders, his weight pressing into you, “So… seriously, what did you do?” His head is turned to the side of yours, watching for your reactions.
You’re starting to feel uncomfortable at his proximity but apparently so are the others because Kugisaki turns and points at Gojo, yelling, “Don’t hang off her like that, perv!”
You stifle a laugh at her accusation, as Fushiguro rolls his eyes and grimaces.
Gojo calls out, “Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?” He wraps both his arms around you and pokes his tongue out at them all.
You’re squished against him and it’s making you hot, “Gojo, if you don’t peel yourself off of me in the next few seconds I’m going to rip out your tongue.”
“I don’t think you would be able to, is the thing though,” he snickers down at you, he does release you though, taking a step back.
You feel beyond annoyed and as much as you know your fist won’t connect, you go to throw a powerful punch at him anyways. It predictably gets stopped by his infinity, never even making it close to his face.
“Oh wow, you tried to punch me!” He exclaims in faux hurt, his hand reaches up to yours and unfurls your fist, instead interlacing your fingers, “I was wondering how long it would take for you to crack and try and hit me.”
You sigh in defeat, “Gojo, please let go of my hand.”
“Tell me what you did and I just might,” he propositions.
The kids are yelling at Gojo from the field, cursing him out for being weird, which of course, he only finds hilarious.
“Gojo,” he hums at you in acknowledgement, “Do you think if I tried really hard, and willed it to happen, that me kicking you in the balls would connect?”
He pouts at your words, apparently holding out for a different response, “Oh, how you wound me.” He drops your hand with a sigh, “Can’t be that bad, tell meeeee,” he whinges slightly, attempting a new way of annoying you, clearly.
“You’re right, it’s not that bad, but it’s way more fun not to tell you at this point,” you smile brightly at him and his eyes widen in slight shock at the display.
He continues pouting, “Cruel…”
You just shrug at him in response.
⸝⸝⸝
Every time Gojo is around, he is trying to get you to tell him why you were assigned to be his handler. You don’t tell him, you just shrug or smile like you have no idea why, you understand why he likes to tease a bit now, seeing him so upset over something so small does brighten your day just a little bit.
As much as you hate to admit it, you’ve grown fond of his company, as well as the three kids. You thought this would be more hellish, and while on some occasions it is, you quite enjoy your day to days now. Filled with his teasing tone and stupid smile, you’re feeling comfortable with them all.
Your only complaint is that, while this is what you’re expected to be doing most of the time, the fact that sorcerers are hard to come by hangs true and you are still sent on solo missions on a whim. It’s only annoying because you’re expected to come and go easily, like fighting off first-grade or high-grade curses isn’t completely taxing.
Today you enter the classroom slightly later than usual, having been absent since the middle of yesterday, you didn’t even have time to sleep, you showered and came straight here. You mumble an offhanded good morning before collapsing into a chair in the corner of the front of the class.
“Look who decided to show back up,” Gojo chirps.
“Mmm, too loud… too much… so early,” you grumble back.
Itadori asks what no one else does, “Where did you go?”
You sigh into the air, “Ah, I had a job, it’s fine though, here now,” you smile lazily.
Gojo scrutinises you from behind his blindfold, he can tell you’re tired, hell, everyone could tell you’re tired. Your head is barely staying up, almost lolling to the side, looking for somewhere to rest so you can sleep.
“Maybe you should go home,” he comments, uncharacteristically serious.
You peek an eye open at him, they had fallen closed, when did they close? “Can’t.” you mutter out, “I’m needed here, so you don’t do anything stupid.”
“You aren’t going to be able to stop me if you’re asleep,” he retorts.
“No but it won’t look as bad if I am at least here,” you cover your mouth as you yawn.
He moves over to your corner and bends down, “If I promise to behave will you go home?”
“Probably not,” you smirk up at him, “I don’t think I’d believe you.”
Kugisaki groans, “Flirt on your own time!”
You bark a laugh at that, the back and forth you have with Gojo is not how you flirt and you imagine it’s not how he does either, “Yeah, Gojo. Go away.” You say, playing into it.
His smile is light as he turns away from you, “Fine but if you complain about a backache later from sleeping in that chair it’s not my fault.”
“I’m not gonna fall asleep,” you counter.
⸝⸝⸝
You fell asleep.
You don’t know when exactly it happened, you just know it did… and that you’re embarrassed. When you startle awake in your seat, you can hear the distant noises of the students sparring and the breeze flowing through the – previously – closed windows.
“Hey, you’re up,” Gojo notices from his spot, lazing in the students desks.
You sit up a bit more, “How long–”
“–How long were you asleep?” He finishes for you, “A couple hours.”
“Why are you in here?” You ask, “Why aren’t you with the first-years?”
“The first-years are sparring with the second-years, they’re fine,” he too, sits up more, “I stayed cause I didn’t wanna leave you alone in here.”
You raise a brow at him, “That or you just didn’t wanna actually do your job today.”
“Ah, you caught me,” he laughs easily.
“Mhm, thought so,” standing up completely, you stretch out your limbs, joints aching from sleeping in the chair.
“I didn’t think you would also be doing solo missions while being here,” he comments from behind you.
“Well… you know how shorthanded we are,” you walk over to where he’s sitting, “Plus, me being here is almost as much as a punishment for me as it is for you,” you remind.
“That’s funny, I wouldn’t say I feel punished,” he says it like it means nothing, like his feelings aren’t lingering right under the surface.
Thinking on it, you agree, “I don’t much either, I’ve been having quite a bit of fun actually,” you laugh lightly.
Gojo’s world stands still for a moment, he’s been growing addicted to how you smile, the sound of your laugh. He’s lucky for the blindfold because nearly every time he looks at you he has hearts in his eyes.
Noticing his silent staring, you grow shy, rubbing the back of your neck, “Sorry for falling asleep, it won’t happen again.”
He recovers quickly, “No it won’t… because next time, you’re going to go home to sleep properly before showing back up here.”
“Whatever you say, Gojo,” you play it off, not taking him seriously.
“Call me Satoru.”
You’re a little shocked, feeling like you misheard him, you clarify, “I’m sorry, what?”
He gets up from where he’s sitting, “We’ve known each other for years now, call me Satoru.”
You don’t know if you should, it feels weird, like letting him into your life more than he already is and that’s a little much for post nap you, “Maybe…”
He chuckles, “Don’t force yourself, just know, you can if you want to…”
You nod at him, suddenly feeling incredibly bashful.
⸝⸝⸝
You’re cleaning… why are you cleaning? Because you somehow got conned into having Gojo over. Its honestly impressive of him, you have no idea how he convinced you to let him into your home. You barely can even recall the conversation, something about movies, he’s somehow got your favourite movie before the DVD or streaming release.
Anyways, now you’re scrabbling around your meagre apartment, attempting to clean it up to a high standard before you have a guest over. You have time, you have enough time to clean the main areas, yourself, your bedroom… wait, your bedroom (?). Brushing off the thought, you continue your tirade, it ends with just enough time for you to make yourself look presentable.
Knocks in the form of a carefree tune are thumped into your door and you know who it is instantly, even his knocking is distinctly him. Tugging your shirt on, you call out, “Just a sec!”
Pausing in front of the door, you smooth yourself out, like you weren’t just running around like an insane person a few minutes ago, and then you open the door. The sight of Gojo is shocking, it wasn’t what you were expecting… you’ve seen him in casual clothes before, but you think you’ve gotten too used to seeing him at the school.
You mumble out, “You look nice.”
His eyes light up behind his glasses, “Why thank you, you look nice as well.” He speaks lowly on his way past you.
You stand stunned for a little, not expecting his compliment to affect you so much. He’s already walked down the hall while you stood staring at where he once was. Closing the door, you start after him, meeting him in the lounge room.
“You ready?” He asks.
You nod your head, waiting for him to show how he accrued the movie.
“Ta da!” He shows the usb stick, presumedly holding the movie.
You sigh at his jovial display of piracy and grab the thumb drive off him. Gojo makes himself comfortable on the couch while you plug it into the tv.
“You have a cute apartment,” he hums, looking around from where he’s sitting.
Grabbing the remote, you switch through the tv’s sources and search for the content on the stick, “Thank you… I think.”
“It’s a compliment,” he affirms.
You flop down next to him on the couch, “We good to start? Or do you have more to say?”
“I always have more to say,” he grins.
“I’ve noticed,” you snark back, beginning the movie anyways.
It starts off good, the movie’s quality isn’t great but it’s good enough to enjoy the content of the film. That is… until the halfway mark and then the quality drops significantly and you can’t even tell what’s happening on screen anymore, everything fuzzy and words mumbled, almost robotic.
You suppress a smile, “Gojo… where did you get the movie?”
“…Online somewhere… I watched the first few minutes and it looked fiiine,” he’s whinging slightly, disappointed in the sudden quality drop.
You can’t help but laugh at his complete dismay, “It’s fine, Gojo, at least I got to see some of it?” You try looking on the bright side, “You’ll just have to buy me a real copy when it comes out.”
“Is that another invitation?” He teases.
You look over to him, “Another? I barely remember giving out this one.”
“That hurts, you know?” He pouts at you.
You can’t help the way your face breaks out in a smile, “It is.” He looks at you confused, “An invitation,” you finish.
His pout breaks into a large smile, “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you liked me.”
“Ah, you’re beginning to grow on me,” you torment lightly.
He nods his head solemnly, “Knew I would.”
You scoff at him, only now realising how close he’s gotten to you, your knees touching, his face so close to your own. You go to look away from him, feeling self-conscious, but his hand reaches up and pulls your face back to continue the intense eye contact.
“If I kiss you right now, will you try and punch me again?” He jokes, trying to relieve the tension.
You find a place inside you that outweighs your anxiety, “Only one way for you to find out.”
He leans in that tiny bit more and captures your lips in his, the kiss tender and gentle, he’s searching, learning. He doesn’t want to scare you away, wanting to kiss you for so long and not willing to ruin it by spooking you now. It took him so long just to work up the courage to get inside your apartment, he doesn’t want you to pull back when you’ve finally stepped towards him.
He parts first, hesitant, if he keeps kissing you, it won’t stay innocent because he really wants to kiss you until you cry.
You repress a whine at the loss of him, “Wait…” You trail off, embarrassed by how badly you want him to keep kissing you.
“Yeah?” He presses, wanting to hear you ask him for it.
“Can… you kiss me again,” you ask, before adding, “please?”
It’s too good to be true, he’s dreaming… but even if that’s the case, he’s sure as hell not wasting this moment, “Anything for you~”
Leaning back in, he kisses you with more fervour, his lips more insistent, desperate. His one hand stays on your face, angling you so he can kiss you deeper, he wants more, more. The other hand reaches for your hip, tugging and pulling at the fat there, groping your skin greedily.
Your moans and whimpers muffle into his mouth, he swallows them down, licking into your mouth, silently asking for more. Which, you give, you think you’d give him the world right now if you could. His kisses are dizzying and full. You’ve not been kissed like this… ever and it’s overwhelming you in an embarrassing way.
Pulling back, you rush out, “Wait wait…”
Gojo freaks a little, “Shit– sorry, was it too much?”
You shake your head, “No, well…maybe, I’ve just… never been kissed like that before, I was feeling dizzy.”
He breathes a sigh of relief before targeting you with a teasing smile, an evil glint in his eyes, “I’m kissing you dumb, huh?”
You feel hot, everywhere, “I–”
Your defence is cut off with this lips back on yours, he’s drunk on your kisses and he’s not going to stop. Knowing that he’s overwhelming you with them only spurs him on, he wants you to be so stupid because of his lips, he thinks he couldn’t want anything more than that right now.
Your arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer; he lets it happen and falls into you, pressing your back into the couch. On instinct, your legs wrap around his waist, tugging him down into you more, desiring the proximity. His front presses into yours and you both moan into each other.
He trails kisses from your lips to the side of your face, down to your neck, his teeth nipping lightly, sucking into your skin, leaving marks behind, not really caring about how you’ll struggle to cover them tomorrow. You gasp into him and raise your hips, grinding into him without meaning to. The friction has him groaning into the skin of your neck.
His large hand grabs at the thickest part of your thigh, grabbing and pulling your covered cunt closer to his clothed dick. His hips dig down into yours, humping into you and trying to fight off the urge to cum in his pants at the minimal amount of stimulation.
He huffs against your sensitive skin, “Bet you’re so fucking wet, fuck–”
“Gojo–”
He cuts you off, “–Lemme… lemme touch you more, please.”
You nod at him, eyes glassy from how he kissed you, “Uh huh, do– do whatever you want~”
His hand is immediately leaving your thigh and reaching into the front of your pants, under your panties and through your dripping folds, a shiver running down his back as he groans deeply. He had a feeling you were wet but fuck– he wasn’t expecting this.
You sob a moan into the collar of his shirt where you’ve tucked your head, his fingers glide through your slick, teasing you, lightly grazing your clit.
His tone is light, “So eager~”
“Don’t t–tease, it’s unkind,” you try to chastise him.
He smiles at you, it’s dark but full, as a single finger probes at your entrance, slipping in carefully, aided fully by the amount of slick that gushes from your pussy, “So messy,” he hums, nosing the side of your face, giggling at the whimper you let out.
“Gojo–”
“–I think…” his finger slips to the hilt, pulling back before fucking back in, wet squelching sounding through your small apartment, “…I’ve earned Satoru, when I’m knuckles deep in your pretty, little cunt.”
If you thought you were hot before, you definitely were now, “Satoru, please.”
“Mmm, I like the sound of that,” his cock jerks in his pants at the sound of you finally calling him by his name.
Your small gasps and sighs are setting his skin on fire, a light flush dusting his features, he still wants more from you, he wants to hear it all, he wants to feel it all, he wants to see it all. Deciding he’s had enough of your clothes, he slips his finger from deep in your cunt, which results in the prettiest, wrecked sound coming from you.
“Just a sec, need these off…” he tugs your pants down and off, leaving you in your panties, he hums in thought at you, “…These are cute,” he points out, looking at to the lacy garment decorating your lower half, “Expecting something to happen?”
You shake your head no, not loving the accusation that you planned this, “No, I just… didn’t have anything else…”
“Convenient,” he comments, taking notice of how completely ruined they are, wet from your arousal pooling in them. He pulls the side of them away from your skin, only to let it slap back against you, enjoying the way you squirm under him, “I think I’ll leave these on.”
He continues undressing you though, tugging off your shirt, your bra following along soon after. You feel so exposed compared to his fully dressed form. His cock strains against his pants though, sitting heavy against the zipper of his jeans. The sight makes you salivate but he takes no notice.
“I gotta get my mouth on you, pretty thing,” he murmurs more to himself than you, since you’re not really thinking at this point, only squirming under him and trying to rub your thighs together.
He shuffles down between your legs, spreading them apart further and tossing them over his shoulder. Drawing your panties to the side, he presses his face into your cunt, inhaling deeply, the act makes you jump and whinge out his name, shocked by the completely debauched display.
“Satoru~”
He doesn’t reply, not with words, he mumbles into your pussy and licks a long stipe from your hole to your clit before licking back down. His tongue pushing into your cunt with the desperation of a starved man. His nose presses against your clit and he moves his head side to side slightly, stimulating it.
You moan and whimper into the air, fingers finding purchase in his hair, needing something to tug onto while he eats you out in the messiest way possible. There is no finesse, he’s sloppily making out with your cunt, drinking down all the arousal that leaks from you eagerly.
Your thighs begin shaking beside his head and he holds you tighter, his head moving back and forth quickly, shaking it, trying to force your orgasm from you. The feeling of his blunt nails digging into your soft skin and the way he groans so unrestrained into your pussy has you cumming on his face very suddenly.
Your stomach twists as your cunt clenches around Gojo’s tongue, your mind lost in how good you feel. Not registering the sound of your moans or the sounds of his mouth lapping at you in the most lewd manner, it should be embarrassing how wet you are for him but you can’t seem to care when it feels this good.
He’s unrelenting, licking and mouthing at your sensitive pussy until you start twitching away from him and pulling on his hair harshly, wordlessly tell him it’s too much.
“Perfect,” he turns his face to the side and mumbles into your thigh, nipping at the skin, delighting in the way your body jerks, “Got an absolutely perfect cunt.” He says shamelessly.
“Gojo!”
He looks up at you through his lashes, “Ah, back to Gojo now?” he leans up and back onto his knees, tugging his shirt over his head and discarding it with the rest of your clothes, “No worries, I’ll fix that real soon.”
The sound of his belt clinking and zipper undoing brings you out of your thoughts, temporarily disarmed by the sudden exposure of his skin. He doesn’t bother taking them off completely, just shirking them down enough to free his painfully erect cock.
Your gaze gets lost in the sight of his dick, leaking thick globs of precum from the tip down his shaft. His hand tugging lazily at it, spreading his own mess everywhere, slicking it up for you. Wet sounds of his hand languidly fucking his cock makes your skin prick. How he’s going to fit you aren’t sure, the size of him is daunting.
He smiles when you look back in his eyes, “There she is.” He leans down over you, “I know I have a really nice dick but let’s try and stay focused, pretty, hmm?”
It’s condescending and egotistical of him to say but you can’t fight the shiver that runs down your spine at his words, “Gojo, you have a massive–”
“–Dick? Yeah I know,” he smiles cheekily at you.
You finish your previous interrupted statement, “I was gonna say ego.”
“Two things can be true at once,” he presses a kiss to your forehead, “You ready for this?”
“I don’t think I could ever be ready for this,” you retort.
“Way to boost a guys ego,” he chuckles at your comment.
You grab the side of his face, “Not that you need it.” You murmur before pulling him down for another kiss, missing the feel of his lips on yours.
He licks into your mouth straight away; you can taste yourself on his tongue. You feel like you could float away, not knowing how you’ve gone your whole life without being kissed like this. Your thighs are back on either side of his hips again, your need to be filled growing by the second.
Pulling back, he sits up so he can watch himself enter your tight pussy. He’s not denying himself this view, not when he’s imagined it so many times before. He rubs his cock through your folds a few times, relishing in your small jumps and moans. He needs it wet; it needs to be so fucking wet if he even dreams of fucking his cock all the way inside you.
“I’m gonna need you to relax for me and remember to breathe if you wanna take it all,” he says it so seriously, and if you hadn’t seen his dick you would’ve assumed he was just stroking his own ego for the sake of it.
You nod at him, “Got it, now please,” your hips wiggle slightly, enticing him.
“I got ya,” he smirks, pushing forward slightly.
The tip of him is a lot, your cunt stretching to take it, the ache dulled by the absolute messy state of your pussy and the thumb Gojo is pressing into your clit. He intakes a sharp breath at the snug fit of your cunt, his hips jerking forward mindlessly, a groan pulled from deep in him, while you whimper pathetically.
Your breath stutters and you’re struggling, grip on his cock impossibly tight, through gritted teeth, he reminds, “Hey, hey… breathe yeah? You gotta –fuck– you gotta breathe for me, pretty.”
Collecting yourself, you attempt to take deep breaths, they come out stuttered but the punishing grip you had on him eases, “Almost had me fucking cumming, geez…” he laughs lightly at it but he would’ve been beyond embarrassed if he came with only his tip inside of you, he’d never live it down.
“You can –hah– you can move,” you stammer out.
He double checks, “You sure?”
Your eyes are so wet and your voice is wrecked when you add, “Please.”
An evil smile takes its place on his face, “Why were you assigned to work with me?”
“Gojo, not now,” your words break off into a whine, you sound so pathetic, you do not have the upper hand here.
“Mmm? You want me to stuff you full? Tell me the reason,” he leans down slightly, cock slipping just that tiny bit more into you.
Ignoring him, your wrap your legs tighter around his waist and try fucking up onto him, it works for the one second that he lets it and then one of his large hands is reaching down and slamming your hips back into the couch cushions.
“Come on, pretty,” his breath wafts against the side of your face, his lips tickling your ear, “You really gonna waste time being stubborn?”
“You’re the stubborn one,” you argue.
He hums noncommittally, almost like you proved his point for him, “Come on, I can feel you fucking pulsing around me, just tell me what you did~”
“I– I… I didn’t listen to an order on a mission and almost got myself killed,” you pout out, breathing laboured.
He tsks at you, disapproving of your actions, “You really should be more careful,” he kisses beside your ear, “And listen to your seniors more.” It goes without saying that, that includes him. You suspect he’s mostly talking about himself; he has no respect for the current hierarchy.
“Gojo, you said you would–”
He tilts his head at you, “–I did but now knowing how reckless you were, I can’t help but want to punish you a bit more…”
Your waterline fills with tears at the frustration, your pussy fluttering on the barely two inches he has sat inside you, how he’s holding out so well you have no idea because you’re about to fucking cry.
Your voice is embarrassing to even your own ears, “Satoru, please, more.”
“Ah, well when you ask like that, how can I say no?” He’s acting as if he’s taking mercy on you and not like his dick didn’t twitch violently at you using his name again.
Slowly, he pushes into you, stopping every now and again to let you adjust and reminding you to just breathe through it. Something Gojo has realised is, your cunt is so reactive to him, the words he speaks, the hand he has on your hip, the kisses he presses into the side of your head, all of it has you spasming around him and every time you do, it feels like a gut punch to him.
It’s addictive and also world shattering, he doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to last when he actually starts fucking into you. The little noises you make don’t help either, how on earth is he meant to last more than a minute inside you?
Eventually, he bottoms out, the both of you moaning at the relief, your legs nearly kick at the sensation of how deep inside you he is, “Satoru, move?”
He bites out, “Give me a second.” He’s fighting the primal urge to cum inside you right now.
You whine under him, hips twitching, using the minimal amount of space to grind your pelvis into his. Your pussy stutters around him at the stimulation on your clit and he groans loudly at it, his orgasm on the tip of his tongue.
He forces your hips down and still again, pinning you to the couch with his own, “You’re so impatient. Do you want this to be over now? You want me to cum after only being fully inside you for a minute?”
You shake your head at him, the feral look in his eyes making your stomach do flips, your pussy gushing around him.
He laughs dryly, “Fuck, I can’t do a single thing without turning you on more, huh?”
You look away from him, embarrassment reaching a new pique with that comment, “Not nice, Satoru.”
“Not a bad thing, pretty,” he noses your cheek, realising how he said it harshly without meaning it that way, “Huge compliment, knowing you react this way to me is fucking perfect but it also has me on the edge of finishing prematurely.”
Turning your head back to him, you look him in the eyes and he swears he sees heaven because you have tears trailing down your cheeks and your eyes are blown and wet and he’s gonna finish if he keeps looking at you. So, instead, he leans in and kisses you deep, getting lost in the taste and feel of your mouth.
The small reprieve helps and he begins thrusting his hips back and forth, his cock leaving and entering you with the most obscene noises he’s ever heard. It’s such a fucking mess, leaking out of you, down your thighs and onto your nice couch. And even if he really tried, he couldn’t give a fuck, not when your cunt is so slick and warm and wrapping around him like it was made for him.
The sounds you let out are cute but muffled against his mouth, he settles for swallowing them down but he’d really rather hear them loud and clear. You flutter around him so beautifully, everything you do is perfect to him and you laying here while he shoves you full of his fat cock is no different.
He pulls away from your lips to hear the noises you make for him, “Cute,” he comments offhandedly, not even sure if you hear the contents of his words. He only knows you hear his voice because your cunt clenches down on him at the sound.
You cry out to him, “S’toru~”
“Ah, you’re so fucking close aren’t you,” the smile on his face is huge and wolfish, excited to feel you cum all over him, looking forward to literally nothing else.
You try to verbalise it, “I– mm –mmph–”
“Go on, let yourself gush all over me, wanna fucking feel it, pretty,” his words are sharp against your ear.
His hips increase their pace, slamming down into you more forcefully, his pelvis grinding into your clit harshly. Your eyes cross into the back of your head, neck lolling back bonelessly, choppy, whimpered sounds leave you. Your fingers claw at his biceps, leaving behind angry marks. Gojo’s hands have a death grip on your hips, bruised marks will definitely be left behind in their wake.
A particularly sharp thrust and loud whine from Gojo has you cumming under him, your pussy gripping him tight as your cum leaks from you sloppily, his cock coated in it. Creamy ring left at the base of his cock as he continues thrusting mercilessly.
His abs pull taut, his resolve finally breaking now that he’d finally felt you finish on him, “Where you want it?”
“Inside, please Satoru,” your words are mumbled and breathy.
“Fuuuuuck.”
He’s lucky you said that because your words have him cumming on the spot, thick ropes of his cum being forced deep inside your little cunt. It leaks out around the base of him, even as he presses deep into you, his pelvis tight against yours, riding out his high by grinding into you slightly. The stimulation making your cunt jump around him as he hisses at the slight overstimulation he’s forcing himself into.
You both huff, gasping greedily for air after your intense highs, the room filled with nothing but silence and your haste breaths. Eventually, you both even out and lay there quietly, Gojo pressed against you with his cock still snug inside your pussy.
“Gojo, you’re heavy,” you tell him.
He laughs, “Right, sorry.”
Leaning back, he slowly pulls his dick from you, both hissing at it. His eyes are fixated on the way his cum slips from your hole, his heart hammering in his chest at the sight, obsessing over how hot it is that you took so much of him. He slips your panties back into place, letting them keep his cum inside you.
“You did so good,” he praises you suddenly.
It makes you feel bashful, “So did you…” you mumble out.
A loud laugh results from him, “Thank you,” he says, his eyes crinkled in a large smile.
Gojo cleans the pair of you up, tucking you carefully into your bed and holding you close as you fight to keep your eyes open, “Will you still be here when I wake up?”
“Do you want me to be?” He questions lightly, trying not to expect anything from you.
“…Yes, I’d like it a lot if you stayed, I think.” You admit shyly.
“Then I’ll be here,” he presses himself into you closer, enjoying the warmth radiating off of you.
You don’t think this was in your job description…
PLAGIARISM NOT CONDONED | REPOSTS NOT AUTHORISED
#gojo x reader#gojo x reader smut#gojou x reader#gojou x reader smut#gojo satoru smut#jjk smut#gojo satoru x reader#satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader smut#jjk x reader#vision writes
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Full Integration, Final Fusion, Functional Multiplicitly, and General "Spirituality"
(Disclaimer: this is a very long post)
Heyyo, this is a bit of a hodgepodge of connected topics that I was thinking on this morning. For those that don't know, after like three months of being a really solid fused whole, we really decided that we needed to redivide back into our core parts to recenter, rebalance, and reorganize ourselves since our fused whole was loosing sight / vision of the "plot". We don't consider this "splitting" because we are still in - what we like to call "full integration" - and we don't really engage in much dissociation when we do this as the means of how we do this largely stems from the way we perceive, engage with, and view the concept of "self" and "identity." Our system highly values the mastery and art of a very fluid and ever changing sense of identity and self. This morning - thank you Chunn brain for batting our collective brain from the usual urge to get out of bed and get started with our day to give us time to really sit with our inner selves - we spent about an hour and a half and a small half hour nap just laying there thinking among ourselves and I wanted to share a few.
I think at the moment I am still mostly a fused whole and I had considered trying to go to Ray or Lin for them to write this, but it didn't feel right to go to Ray brain and Lin brain directly told me "Dude, this thought line started with Riku-dominant fused brain, trying to have someone else write it would be a disservice to the reflection. Let Riku or Riku-dominant fused brain do it, it's their thought." and you know, fair point. I think I'll use this post as a temporary "bye few thoughts" and love letter to our parts as a fused whole before leaving it to the individual specialists to do their things.
So introduction to this post aside, hello and temporary soon to be farewell before I choose to temporarily redivide into my main parts. Today is May 15, 2024 and I'm gonna document this a bit for when I come back whenever that is and kind of see if my fused-whole perspective and nature changes - mostly for myself. Online I go by Feathers, irl I just go by our chosen name.
I'm a (mostly, technically non-denominational independent, but most of my views and perspectives come from and align closely with) Zen Buddhist. I'm nonbinary vaguely transmasc (not really though?) intersex individual with the pronouns of they/them. I am extremely pro-endo and if I honestly felt like sticking around longer, I was thinking about writing a much more nuanced essay on tulpa-terminology discourse with my current reflections as a fused whole and as a pretty avid Buddhist but, unforunately, unless one of my parts still shares the same insight AND interest, that essay will have to wait for me to potentially be back (hey, Riku or Chunn might still want to who knows). I dunno what else to say, I love bird, Bleach, walking, driving, listening to music, video games, writing, art? I dunno man, I'm just me.
Documentation aside anyways, I gotta figure out where I want to start. I think I will actually piss my high-school English teachers off and start with the LAST thing in the title card. I might loose a lot of close minded white anti-endos here, but hey, if you are that close minded, then its your loss cause I'm just talking about late-stage recovery as a person with diagnosed DID that is considered polyfragmented. It's a fun conversation to have with other people with DID aiming for recovery so, if you're hell bent on hating people talking about plurality form a non-DID lens enough to disregard cool information, that's your loss. (Thank you XIV brain, crediting that to you for part of our goal today)
Buddhism, Spirituality, Plurality and Our Perspective of Full Integration
According to Buddhism, and one of the largest concepts and principles of Buddhism that we believe the most in and actively work to practice and cultivate the mindset of - is that the concept of "I" and the concept of a singular, distinct, and separate self from the world and others simply does not exist - only the experience and illusion of experience exists. I was talking about it with @quoigenicfromhell in DMs since they were interested in talking shop about Buddhism.
To save myself a whole effort of rewriting a discussion on how one can hold together the clear sensation of existing and being an individual with the idea and Buddhist understanding that the "self" does not exist, I'm going to copy a little bit of what I wrote in response to them. If it doesn't make sense cause its in a bit of Buddhist jargon, then oh well, I'm lazy, it's written for an audience that has done some reading and looking into Buddhist thought so RIP yall srry not srry (Thank you Chunn brain lol)
Honestly the development and understanding of holding those two things together (the non-self and non-existence with the clear experience of self and existence) is largely a lot of exploration on the understanding and respect for the experience without applying too much value or regard to said experience. Its kind of a hard thing to understand just based off of words alone and like all things Buddhism, its one of those sorts of things you really gotta sit on and explore in your own mental space, but like
The experience of self and personhood and existence is a denied concept in Buddhist thought, but its not a bad or incorrect thing, the experience of self and existence is kind of considered an inherent expression of life and the world and while its important to be cognicent that it is an illusion that can cause suffering and muddy an individuals ability to see Things As They Are, the experience and illusion of self is additionally an entirely natural thing to experience and is an important part of being able to, well, be
I kinda of personally perceive it kind of similarly to say a part in a system. Innately the part is not (at least in my experiences of systemhood) a literal entire separate being and thats an important thing to acknowledge for a number of reasons (life organization and direction, system accountability, etc) but its would also be incredibly foolish to completely ignore that the part operates, experiences themselves, and lives in the world (both inner and outer) as if they were an individual of their own
In the same sense that a part in a system can be seen both as an individual and a part of a whole / collective depending on what perspective and demands the moment needs. An individual can be seen both as the individual expression of a self informed by the arguably incorrect illusion of isolation OR as a part of the whole worlds expression depending on what serves the moment the best. I largely kind of see myself as part of a system that is the world much like I see my parts as part of a system that is "me". While the self may be an illusion, its not an experience that can be denied and it is an innate expression that in its own right can prove to be a great teacher
So you deny the concept of a self but respect and revere the experience and innate natural expression of self
With that context in mind, while we do not believe in the concept of self and find that trying to seek out a concrete idea of a singular person and singular self in society is a source of extreme suffering, stress, and displeasure, we DEEPLY revere and honor the expression of self. As we see it, in a complete ideal and impossible the world would be in perfect harmony if we let the world express itself as it naturally does. We find that the experiences of self - in whatever form they take - are inherent and natural expressions of the world as a whole and to try to shape oneself to fit a specific image - may that be societally imposed or internally / personally imposed or a sense of envy or any sort of clinging or desire to a specific version / image of self - is a disrespect to the innate beauty found in the natural expression and a means of adding disharmony into the world.
As a result, our system and whole aims deeply, above almost all else to exist simply as we naturally would in any moment time to time. If we find that something we are doing with our sense of self is drawn and influenced too much on a "I should" or "I want" or "I wish" or "I hope" then we tend to pause, self reflect, and ask if we are actually existing in our natural state, or are we trying to fight against our natural state of self to fit into a self-imposed idea of what we "should be".
As a result of that, our system deeply values our flexibility, fluidity, and ability to change any aspect of ourselves, any opinion we hold, any identity label we consider, and our overall presentation in all ways and forms to a very high level. The desire to be consistent and predictable serves us little in simply practicing on "being" and finding the true and simply-run life that we want. That then results in why our system so casually flips around in system size, fusions, redivisions, how we refer to ourselves, etc. We find very little value in committing to labels and concepts and do whatever is natural for us.
Additionally, another large aspect of Buddhism our system deeply reveres and appreciates is the acknowledgement that there are "Buddhas" - or in less Jargon terms, potential for everything both internal and external to be teachers and guides into finding a sense of peace and simplicity in the world - and that it is deeply important to cultivating peace, happiness, and insight to actively always be seeking out the "Buddha" in everything and everyone. It's important to reflect, engage with, and talk with those "Buddhas" as they are the best and number one way to gain the insight that brings happiness and peace into life and removes excessive suffering and stress.
As many Buddhists agree (at least of the Mahayanan branches), everyone is inherently a Buddha because the world and everything is a Buddha. The only issue people have is that they can not connect, hear, and see clearly enough to be in that state due to a large number of human conditions - one large one being the aforementioned illusion of self.
Having lived my life as someone with DID and having gone through a lot of trauma therapy, self reflection, communication and coordination with my parts, and all that to the point we have reached functional multiplicity over a year plus ago and been able to hold a fully fused state for over three months, I feel like its a given to say that of ALL things in the world, the "Buddha nature" of my parts have been the best and most insightful teachers I've ever had. We revere each other's strengths and specialties greatly as each of us have taught the other great strengths, great understandings, great insights, and great appreciations that have collectively brought us so much peace and happiness. It's not to say any part is "enlightened" because each part is also deeply flawed and struggling in their own realms, but it is largely by working and talking and supporting one another and ACTIVELY looking to one another for insight and lessons about the world and our existence that we are able to reach a uniquely peaceful space.
For us, its an incredibly important practice - both for self care and in the art / spirituality of Buddhism - to regularly talk and engage with these specialized and uniquely-wise (and uniquely stupid - thank you XIV) parts of ourselves to gain deeper insight and overall understanding of ourselves and our place in the world.
In the same sense, it is why - despite being completely capable of operating as a fully fused whole - we regularly choose to INTENTIONALLY redivide into our parts. And no, its not us "splitting again" or even really throwing up any real level of dissociation / dissociative barriers. If anything, we usually do this through meditation and mindfulness.
It's a Buddhist practice, its not a mental disorder and its not stemming from the same mechanism's DID stems from. It might operate *based* on the foundation our history with DID stems from, but at this point in our healing, the way our system operates at functional multiplicity that is intentionally chosen to be that way AFTER reaching "final fusion" has a number of differences from how it operated before we reached general full integration.
Again, for those more familiar with the tulpa-terminology discussion, you might be able to see where I would have a long post delving into a highly nuanced and more middle-ground perspective of that syscourse from the paragraph above this one, but I'm gonna leave that cause I already know this post is long and it would detract from the purpose.
At this point, my system is mostly an "intentionally created one" to Western label standards. We personally do not see any significance or binary in plural VS singular people beyond it being a label some people identify with and not. Plural VS Singular is a false binary perpetuated in white, western, and european society and while I respect that perspective and view in a space that is primarily filled with white, western, and/or european individuals, I am going to firmly state that and expect you to give me that same respect. (and if you refuse to give me that same respect, then you are close minded and being very white / western lmao <- thank you XIV, again)
And so the other related but slightly different topic away from the more philosophical, esoteric, mysticism sounding topic of Buddhism...
Full Integration, Final Fusion, and Functional Multiplicitly
At this point, what we used to call "Wishiwashi Recovery" we kind of have taken to just calling "full integration" generally as a means of really breaking apart the suggested categorical and boxed binary of "final fusion" and "functional multiplicity" as our own experience and discussion with other systems at and near full integration have made us realize that the difference between functional multiplicity and final fusion is FAR more a spectrum than it is two seperate categories. Some systems stick to one end, some to the others, but the largest difference is in external and internal expression of the parts and less any fundamental or biological / clinical difference; at least not in terms of integration. (Note: Integration =/= Fusion; Integration is the general connectivity and accessibility of parts with less / limited / no dissociation)
It's a false binary to say Final Fusion or Functional Multiplicity and its why a lot of the "ones bad and ones good" syscourse is dumb. They're two heads of the same Doduo and they should be kissing. (JOKING, thank you Riku-Aya brain)
With that said, our system, as we've made clear, regularly and freely practices sliding and flying all over that spectrum as just how we like to engage with ourselves. We change between the two as we see fit and having spent probably like 9~ months in functional multiplicity and 3~ months in final fusion I wanted to share some pros and cons of both sides.
I would also like to put a disclaimer that this isn't meant to be "positives and why this side sucks" as much as it is the differences in life style according to our opinion and our experience. Both final fusion and functional multiplicity are absolutely WONDERFUL things overall and we love both states. If we got "stuck" in either, we would still be immensely happy. The purpose of this part is just to share certain differences in how we experience the two different ends. The Cons in these case are only "cons" relative to the "alternative" and not "to not ever reaching either"
Functional Multiplicity Pros:
A lot more clear and direct communication between parts internally that allows for a SHIT ton of internal banter, productive conversation about complex topic and perspectives from unique and diverse perspectives; the communication is a lot more intentional and a lot more in focus so its easier to properly sit and attend to the complex differences and sometimes conflicting directions
It's honestly just a lot of fun, not gonna lie. A lot more dramatic and extravagant expression + brain friends in a more overt sense
Easier to let certain parts of the brain take "breaks" - it's not the same as it is with not-fully-integrated DID but compared to Full Fusion, certain parts of the brain can "tune out" easier than not
More palatable to DID / OSDD spaces online
Easier to focus and use a wide variety of skills, interests, hobbies, and thinking patterns by simply just having a specialist part take their look at it
Generally easier to target specific boxes to look into as you process all the newly accessible memories and information from being highly / fully integrated
Final Fusion Pros:
Quick and a lot more inherent understanding of all parts on a general gut level without necessarily needing to fully think about everything and listen to every opinion and perspective; there is a lot more of an inherent understanding, trust, and awareness of the collective whole which makes decision making and seeing whats good for the system as a whole a lot easier
It's honestly way more calming, relaxing, and solid feeling. There is a unique sense of confidence, understanding, and trust within yourself and you have a HUGE arsenal of skills and interests that come from the combined parts that you've lived as
You are a lot more present and aware of your life and you actually get to live YOUR life and have all parts of yourself be engaged in life; no part feels really left behind or is caught off guard from having their brain partially turned off. The awareness is really present and engagement is so much more complete.
More palatable in real life and non-DID/OSDD spaces
Easier to simultaneously use skills from multiple parts at once; very much a jack of all trades all at once situation
Generally easier to integrate multiple complex and otherwise seemingly detatched boxes of memory and the past as you process all the newly accessible memories and information from being highly / fully integrated
Functional Multiplicity Cons:
Takes more intention, focus, and often time to get the same level of full understanding of the whole system when making decisions. It can be slow and it requires a lot more internal engagement which can make it harder to be fully present in life
Sometimes you can get what I call "lite" amnesia where a part was not paying attention and doesn't fully process what was going on / what is going on and so sometimes you get poor attention-driven "amnesia". It's small and easily recovered by simply going "hold up wait" and thinking back or asking another part
Harder to use skills from different parts at the same time; albeit definitely still possible and only "harder" relative to final fusion
Generally harder / requires intentional discussion between parts to integrate multiple complex boxes as you process all the newly accessible memories and information from being highly / fully integrated
Final Fusion Cons:
Less direct and overt bantering and discussion between parts (still present by the way, just less frequent and less overt). It can be a little less fun (still is fun cause they are sill there) and it can be a bit harder to fully see the extent of a more extreme perspective
It can be tiring and overwhelming to be aware and present so much for so long if you were accustomed to the breaks DID / OSDD tends to give parts
Easier to forget to use a lot of the skills and hobbies that may have been more niche to less-dominant and less-prominent parts; you don't "loose" the skills, you just aren't accustomed to using them as much so you can just kinda forget to use them
Harder to focus on a targetted recovered memory / information that you want to process and can sometimes be a bit overwhelming trying to connect a number of things at once
And this is all just to say that both are absolutely astonishing and great places to mentally be. The main point is that - for us - sometimes one state works better for us in the moment and another state works better for us later and that's completely cool cause - as aforementioned - the difference between plural vs singular is not a binary one for us anyways.
Anyways, I don't know how to wrap this up so I'mma just post it
Ideally today we will focus on cultivating our independent parts and return to Functional Multiplicity end of the spectrum so I guess tata for now
-Feathers
EDIT and PS: Anyone is allowed to add their thoughts to this so long it is in good faith.
#feathers speaks#functional mulitplicity#final fusion#actuallydid#dissociative identity disorder#syscourse#syscourse tw#tulpacourse#tulpacourse tw#full integration#buddhism#long post
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You're a random based stranger but I need to vent real quick. I'm losing my mind, I feel like every day misogyny seeps more into circles I'm in. Queer spaces don't give a fuck and perpetuate it with nice flowery progressive language.
I can't do this anymore, all the conversations about being a woman are taken over or watered down by men, everything had to be about men, men are the most oppressed, men suffer from the patriarchy, it's never men's fault, you're a misandrist, men men men.
I genuinely can't do this it's so sad in queer circles to see this and I hear my friends do this too. I just had a conversation with a friend who is a queer trans woman and who said it's ok for leftist men to be misogynistic against TERFSs, like no!!! This is getting terrifying even if youre not a TERF!!!! I don't want men to have more ground to be misogynistic without questioning themselves. I'm genuinely tired of the whole "white women" "straight women" loops they find.
Just urgh. I feel like I'm surrounded by people who should know better and everytime I point out misogyny I get told that I'm seeing things.
I'm sorry to hear, anon. That is very alienating, yeah :(
The thing is that most progressive people don't really believe in social classes or power dynamics between them or systems of oppression. They believe in ideas and archetypes and good stories instead.
They use the same language but to them misogyny or racism just mean suffering mistreatment because of some characteristics you have, so they are open to misandry and narratives about how men have been neglected and left behind.
You and I might think of the patriarchy as a social structure of oppression directed from one group against another, but they don't. Patriarchy is explained conspiratorially as the work of only a small elite or as an unpersonal gestalt that arises from the system with no individual truly at fault or perhaps it's the fault of men and women equally.
Or they may briefly recognize some talking point they heard to discard the idea of social power dynamics altogether, "gender is fake" after all. They might think in terms of sex-based oppression because it's "based in nature"; all while having TERFs DNI in their bio of course. Bioessentialism is a big one in general and it crops up again and again and again. Everywhere.
Oppression Olympics is a loaded term but a lot of people really do conceptualize your suffering that way. You get scored based on which characteristics you are oppressed on, weighted by their beliefs about which are worse, which is based on their impressions of the vibes they get from discourse. Just being a woman rarely cuts it now, especially because MRAs can just sell them the right talking points and they'll swallow them up because it's all the same to them. Heard vs. Depp. They just want a good story.
And since misogyny is just a targeted aggression, where is the harm in letting a redeemed man use it against an evil woman, right? Isn't that what justice is? lol.
Let's cut it here though. It's tiring stuff.
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Nonhumanity Induced Gender Euphoria
Having nonhuman features as a trans person can be so gender affirming, even if complicated in my case. I might be in an AFAB human body, but I'm clearly a male cardinal because my feathers are bright red in headspace. This might not apply to all trans nonhumans of course, but I'm talking about personal experience here.
See, I'm a multifictive of two characters. One is an (arguably non)human-esque guy (Hunter), another is a little red cardinal (Flapjack). I'm in a way, a fusion of both, while having memories of being both separately as well. Not canon to my source, but we became one in our memories.
From my memories of me being Hunter, I was transmasc. I wasn't born as a guy, so I did my best to transition. Complications of circumstances aside, I presented as masculine and overall it was okay. Dysphoria was a bitch but I was managing as best I could with all the other stressors going on in my life.
As Flapjack, I was male and cis. While I was just a bird, I was a magic bird, and one with a different level of thinking and capabilities. I didn't question my gender at all, I was comfortable. I don't think I paid much mind to Hunter's either, if I even knew back then that he/I was not cis.
After we became one person in source... Well, I kept my humanoid form but grew red feathers all over my body, as well as claws, a tail and wings too. My humanoid gender features that I had already didn't change, but I gained the distinctive red feathers of a male cardinal. While that might have made my biological gender more complex, it made me as a whole feel euphoria anyway.
I still feel it here too. Even if I have the same body in headspace and even if my physical body is AFAB again, I still have my red feathers inside. I don't identify wholly as a man and am more xenogender than anything, but I enjoy feeling more masculine and being able to present that way.
I'm not the only one who feels gender euphoria from their kintypes/other nonhuman identities though. It's not the most common thing within our system but it's something we experience enough that it does impact us and how we feel.
A lot of people who have antlers feel validated in their masculine identity, for one big example. Obviously antlers meaning a thing is male depends on the species but for the purpose of feeling euphoria, it doesn't matter too much if you're not sure if you even fit any earthen species.
Some of us feel more validated by being spikier or fluffier or having certain colours or patterns. Things that aren't really applicable to human concepts of gender. Being nonhuman for some people means that they have many more ways to express their gender, and I think that's wonderful.
#alterhuman#nonhuman#fictive#plural system#plural#pluralgang#toh fictive#plurality#otherkin#fictionkin#fictionkind#toh alterhuman#transgender#xenogender#actually did#didosdd#endo safe#op#merlin (xe/he/they)#everything althu#everything plural#althu experiences#plural experiences#althu euphoria#queer althu#animal identity#fictional identity#nonhuman identity#otherkin experiences#everything otherkin
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I feel like we should explain some things. Parts language is not completely useless or inaccurate. In some way, you're all alters and that's good. You're a whole and you should work together for the good of your body.
But, if it leads you to dissociate that "You're just a part of me, we're connected and disconnected, we're the same person" and spiraling over and over at that point, that's bad. I've done that before, trying to talk to some fragments.
As a polyfragmented system, and so my alters aren't completely disconnected from one another, many of us are made up of fragments. For example, the main host has several fragments that connect her together, they're all her, even if they're technically different alters, they're all fused/connected together. Trying to decipher via parts language isn't helpful, because they're not individual alters. That's common throughout our entire system.
I wish we didn't have to justify our feelings and opinions on this. Our posts are supposed to be for people like us, people who agree or find hope and positivity and resolution in our posts. It wasn't even the point to completely disregard parts language, it was just saying that it wasn't always helpful. We are not that clear, but we're trying our best. Also, we're not trying to attack anyone with different opinions, we're just making space for our own. (Seriously, make your own post if you're just here to argue.)
So basically, repressing those parts because you feel like there's no control, is not a good idea. It just leads to more dissociation and rejection of them. So I really recommend you allow yourself to be, let them front in a healthy manner. Make a space for them. You need a space for other alters in order to have healthy communication. You can't just expect to have a conversation if you want ultimate control all the time.
Lessen dissociation by enjoying life as you, not shaming yourself because you exist. It's okay to just let it be and ignore all the technical parts of being a system and just be you. It can help, especially if you struggle to make decisions, and feel overwhelmed by the constant "proper/factual" information in the community. Like sure, that's great to learn about this, but it can hinder progress massively. Just log off this site and be yourself once in a while.
And being yourself isn't simple or easy, especially if you're many rats stacked up in a trench coat. Allow yourself to experience a degree of dissociation and enjoy being a different person, or letting other people front. It's going to have to be that way, if you're a system. Don't reject other alters or "parts" of you, if you truly want to work together or to integrate, then you need to accept that they exist, and not as people you can remove or ignore. It feels really good being ourselves, it feels really good to speak our minds. Please remember that. It's a good thing.
Also, whatever you do, don't punish your alters for doing things that you as an alter, regrets. You need to respect each other's feelings and opinions, and come to a civil conclusion or compromise. We usually vote on things and take it case by case. Or what priorities matter most. Attacking yourself for past decisions is silly. Attacking each other for past decisions is silly. It's okay to forgive yourself and let it go. And it's okay to discuss and ask why they did that. Being a system isn't perfect and that's okay.
Just be kind, patient and gentle, even if you see each other as just parts. You don't blame your arm for spasming out, if you tried to do something taxing. So why the hell do we blame alters who made "bad" decisions? Learn to forgive yourself and forgive other alters. You're going to have to learn to give yourself a break. And letting alters be themselves, creating a space for them, is important.
Stop being obsessively controlling over other alters. It's not helpful. You should lift each other up, not tear each other down.
#post.txt#system responsibility#system community#didosdd#osddid#actually osdd#actually did#just make ur own post if all you have to say is disagreeing#we got good points! we know we do#and most of our posts is not written by one alter- you can tell if you see our opinions or topics slightly change#so you're talking to the whole system here man#please be kind#healing
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TUMBLR POST EDITOR WON'T LET ME TITLE THIS POST ANYMORE SO I GUESS THIS IS THE TITLE NOW. WEBBED SITE INNIT
So let's say you grew up in the nineties and that The Lion King was an important movie to you. Let's say that the character of Scar - snarling, ambitious, condescending, effeminate Scar - stirred feelings in you which you had no words for as a child. And then let's say, many years later, you're talking about it with a college friend, and you say something like, "oh man, I think Scar was some sort of gay awakening for me," and she fixes you with this level stare and says, "Scar was a fascist. What's the matter with you?"
The immediate feeling is not unlike missing a step: hang on, what's happening, what did I miss? You knew there were goose-stepping hyenas in "Be Prepared," but you didn't think it mattered that much. He's the bad guy, after all, and the movie's just pointing it out. Your friend says it's more than that: the visuals of the song are directly referencing the Nuremberg rallies. They're practically an homage to Riefenstahl. This was your sexual awakening? Is this why you're so into peaked caps and leather, then? Subliminal nazi kink, perhaps?
And then one of your other friends cuts in. "Hold up," he says, "let's think about what Scar actually did in the movie. He organized a group of racialized outcasts and led them against a predatory monarchy. Why are you so keen to defend their hereditary rule? Scar's the good guy here." The conversation immediately descends into a verbal slap fight about who the real bad guy is, whether Scar's regime was actually responsible for the ecological devastation of the Pride Lands, whether the hyenas actually count as "racialized" because James Earl Jones voiced Mufasa after all. Your Catholic friend starts saying some strange and frankly concerning shit about Natural Law. Someone brings The Lion King 2 into it. You leave the conversation feeling a little bit lost and a little bit anxious. What were we even talking about?
INTRODUCING: THE DITCH
There is a way of reading texts which I'm afraid is pervasive, which has as its most classical expression the smug obsession with trivia and minutiae you find in a certain vein of comic book fan. "Who was the first Green Lantern? What was his weakness? Do you even know the Green Lantern Oath?" It eschews the subjective in favor of definitively knowable fact. You can't argue with this guy that, say, Alan Scott shouldn't really count as the first Green Lantern because his whole deal is so radically different from the Hal Jordan/John Stewart/Guy Gardner Corps-era Lanterns, because this guy will simply say "but he's called Green Lantern. Says so right on the cover. Checkmate." This approach to reading a text is fundamentally 1) emotionally detached (there's a reason the joke goes, oh you like X band? name three of their songs - and not, which of their songs means the most to you? which of them came into your life at exactly the right moment to tell you exactly what you needed to hear just then?) and 2) defensive. It's a stance that is designed not to lose arguments. It says so right on the cover. Checkmate.
And then you get the guys who are like "well obviously Bruce Wayne could do far more as a billionaire to solve societal problems by using his tremendous wealth to address systemic issues instead of dressing up as a bat and punching mental patients in the head," and these guys have half a point but they're basically in the same ditch butting heads with the "well, actually" guys, and can we not simply extricate ourselves from the ditch entirely?
So, okay, let's return to our initial example. Scar is portrayed using Nazi iconography - the goose-stepping, the monumentality, the Nuremberg Lichtdom. He is also flamboyant and effete. He unifies and leads a group of downtrodden exiles to overthrow an absolute monarch. He's also a self-serving despot on whose rule Heaven Itself turns its back. You can't reconcile these things from within the ditch - or if you can, the attempt is likely to be ad-hoc supposition and duct tape.
Instead, let's ask ourselves what perspective The Lion King is coming from. What does it say is true about the world? What are its precepts, its axioms?
There is a natural hierarchical order to the world. This is just and righteous and the way of things, and attempts to overthrow this order will be punished severely by the world itself.
Fascism is what happens when evil men attempt to usurp this natural order with the aid of a group or groups of people who refuse to accept their place in the order.
There exists an alternative to defending and adhering to one's place in the natural order - it consists only of selfish spineless apathy.
Manliness is an essential quality of a just ruler. Unmanliness renders a person unfit for rule, and often resentful and dangerous as well.
And isn't that interesting, laid out like that? It renders the entire argument about the movie irrelevant (except for whatever your Catholic friend was on about, since his understanding of the world seems to line up with the above precepts weirdly well.) It's meaningless to argue about whether Scar was a secret hero or a fascist, when the movie doesn't understand fascism and has a damn-near alien view of what good and evil are.
There's always gonna be someone who, having read this far, wants to reply, "so, what? The Lion King is a bad movie and the people who made it were homophobes and also American monarchists, somehow? And anyone who likes it is also some sort of gay-bashing crypto-authoritarian?" To which I have to reply, man, c'mon, get out of the ditch. You're no good to anyone in there. Take my hand. I'm going to pull on three. One... two...
SO PHYREXIA [PAUSE FOR APPLAUSE, GROANS]
We're talking about everyone's favorite ichor-drooling surgery monsters again because there was a bit in my ~*~seminal~*~ essay Transformation, Horror, Eros, Phyrexia which seemed to give a number of readers quite a bit of trouble: namely, the idea that while Phyrexia is textually fascist, their aesthetic is incompatible with real-world fascism, and further, that this aesthetic incompatibility in some way outweighs the ways in which they act like a fascist nation in terms of how we think of them. I'll take responsibility here: I don't think that point is at all clear or well-argued in that essay. What I was trying to articulate was that the text of Magic: the Gathering very much wants Phyrexia to be supremely evil and dangerous fascists, because that makes for effective antagonists, but in the process of constructing that, it's accidentally encoded a whole bunch of fascinating presuppositions that end up working at cross-purposes with its apparent aim. That's... not that much clearer, is it? Hmm. Why don't I just show you what I mean?
Atraxa, Grand Unifier (art by Marta Nael)
In "Beneath Eyes Unblinking," one of the March of the Machine stories by K. Arsenault Rivera, there's a fascinating and I think revealing passage in which Atraxa (big-deal Phyrexianized angel and Elesh Norn's lieutenant) has a run-in with an art museum in New Capenna. The first thing I want to talk about is that, in this passage, Atraxa has no understanding of the concept of "beauty". A great deal of space in such a rushed storyline is devoted to her trying to puzzle out what beauty means and interrogating the minds of her recently-compleated Capennan aesthetes to try and understand it. In the end, she is unable to conceive of beauty except as "wrongness," as anathema.
So my first question is, why doesn't Atraxa have any idea of beauty? This is nonsense, right? We could point to a previous story, "A Garden of Flesh," by Lora Gray, in which Elesh Norn explicitly thinks in terms of beauty, but that's a little bit ditchbound, isn't it? The better argument is to simply look at Phyrexian bodies, at the Phyrexian landscape, all of which looks the way it does on purpose, all of which has been shaped in accordance with the very real aesthetic preferences of Phyrexians. How you could look at the Fair Basilica and not understand that Phyrexians most definitely have an idea of beauty, even if you personally disagree with it, is baffling. This is a lot like the canonical assertion that Phyrexians lack souls, which is both contradicted elsewhere in canon and essentially meaningless, given Magic's unwillingness or inability to articulate what a soul is in its setting, and as with this, it seems the goal is simply to dehumanize Phyrexians, to render them alien, even at the cost of incoherence or internal contradiction.
Atraxa's progress through the museum is fascinating. It evokes the 1937 Nazi exhibit on "degenerate art" in Munich, but not at all cleanly. The first exhibit, which is of representational art, she angrily destroys for being too individualistic (a point of dissonance with the European fascist movements of the 20th century, which formed in direct antagonism to communism.) The second exhibit, filled with abstract paintings and sculptures, she destroys even more angrily for having no conceivable use (this is much more in line with the Nazi idea of "degenerate art", so well done there.) The third exhibit is filled with war trophies and reconstructions from a failed Phyrexian invasion of Capenna many years prior, which she is angriest of all with (and fair enough, I suppose.) But then, after she's done completely trashing the place, she spots a number of angel statues on the cathedral across the plaza, and she goes apeshit. In a fugue of white-hot rage, she pulverizes the angel heads, and here is where I have to ask my second question:
Why angels? If you are trying to invoke fascist attitudes toward art, big statues of angels are precisely the wrong thing for your fascist analogues to hate. Fascists love monumental, heroic representations of superhuman perfection. It's practically their whole aesthetic deal. I understand that we're foreshadowing the imminent defeat of Phyrexia at the hands of legions of angels and a multiversal proliferation of angel juice, but that just leads to the exact same question: why angels? To the best of my knowledge, the Phyrexian weakness to New Capennan angel juice is something invented for this storyline. They have, after all, been happily compleating angels since 1997. We could talk about the in-universe justification for why Halo specifically is so potent, but I don't remember what that justification is, and also don't care. Let's not jump back in the ditch, please. The point is, someone decided that this time, Phyrexia would be defeated by an angelic host, and what does that mean? What is the text trying to say? What are its precepts and axioms?
Let me ask you a question: how many physically disabled angels are there in Magic: the Gathering? How about transsexual angels? How many angels are there, on all of the cards that have ever been printed for Magic: the Gathering, that are even just a bit ugly? Do you get it yet? Or do you need me to spell it out for you?
SPELLING IT OUT FOR YOU
There is a kind of body which is bad. It is bad because it has been significantly altered from its natural state, and it is bad because it is repellent to our aesthetic sensibilities.
The bad kind of body is contagious. It spreads through contact. Sometimes people we love are infected, and then they become the bad kind of body too.
There is a kind of body which is good. It is good because it is pleasing to our aesthetic sensibilities, and it is good because it is unaltered from its (super)natural state.
A happy ending is when all the good bodies destroy or drive into hiding all of the bad bodies. A happy ending is when the bad bodies of the people we love are forcibly returned to being the good kind of body.
Do you get it now?
ENDNOTES
It's worth noting that the ditch is very similar to the white American Evangelical hermeneutics of "the Bible says it. I believe it. That settles it," the defensive chapter-and-verse-or-it-didn't-happen approach to reading a text, what Fred Clark of slacktivist calls "concordance-ism". I don't think that's accidental. We stand underneath centuries of people reading the Bible very poorly - how could that not affect how we read things today? We are participants in history whether we like it or not.
I sincerely hope I haven't come across as condescending in this essay. Close reading is legitimately difficult! They teach college courses on this stuff! And while it is frustrating to have my close readings interrogated by people who... aren't doing that, like. I do get it. I find myself back in the ditch all the time. This stuff is hard. It is also, sorry, crucial if you intend to say something about a text that's worth saying.
I also hope I've communicated clearly here. Magic story is sufficiently incoherent that trying to develop a thesis about it often feels like trying to nail jello to the wall. If anyone has questions, please ask them! And thank you for reading. Next time, we'll probably do the new Eldraine set.
#phyrexia#not defining the ditch except by implication#thanks to all the very smart vorthoi on the flavor text discord server for helping me work through my thoughts on fascism and phyrexia#this is technically the march of the machine review also#or as much of one as i care to do
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Well, Now What?
20.5k words
You are dating Ryujin; it's tough making a relationship with an idol work, but you have your own… unique ways of handling it, featuring quite a few other idols. When your friend and ex Karina gets wrapped up in a dating scandal with your fellow actor, you're put in a tough spot between them.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
"Well, now what?"
No response to your question. Your living room is bathed in a cold, sterile light, streetlamps against the windows. There sits man of the hour, Lae Jaewook. Cans of beer line your coffee table, and the conversation you're holding with him feels like a scene in more of a low-budget show, maybe one of those YouTube web series, and there's no way that YouTube money could afford a cast with you and Jaewook in it. His face, all rough lines and handsome features, is clear and void.
"I mean, if you're not gonna call her…" You gesture vaguely around your empty room, not wanting to have to spell it out.
Irritation cracks his strong features, and Jaewook counters your frustration with even more stubbornness. The sky-high cheekbones, the crinkled eyes, he'd be an intimidating force, heavy waves rumbling in the distance, if you didn't know him so well. "Come on, you think I don't have the sense to call her?" He scoffs. You want to nod, want to laugh, but keep both to yourself for now. "No, it's your fault."
"Oh?"
"You're keeping me hostage here like some kind of bad cop," he says as he points toward the empty cans on the table.
Put your hands up. (Weren't you supposed to be the cop? He has the gaze of a severe statesman whose withering off-hand remarks might flatten a country, even if when he talks, it's a lot less dire.) "Alright man," you say, "if you wanna leave, you can leave. Good luck with Dispatch."
Your words hit the target, raising Jaewook from his seat. He walks toward you and places his hand on your shoulder, and the two of you make eye contact, tense energy snapping through the air; it releases like that, and you both laugh.
"I'm not going anywhere yet," he says. "Too late for that." You can see the regret in his choice of company for the night. You can imagine one other person he'd rather see in the moment. You get it. "This whole thing is just…"
"Yeah, crazy." You nod solemnly, empathetically. You know this, all the thoughts going through his head, lived through the worries yourself. Living through them now, still. You reach over and grab the last unopened can of beer. After a long sip, you notice Jaewook, a statue. You'd usually laugh when he gets that serious.
His expression softens. "How does it work? The whole… dating an idol thing. You know that's why I called in the first place."
You motion toward the TV symbolically, its screen black but text implied what it would be if powered on. "Well, clear all that shit up, first of all."
"What?"
"You said it was just flirting, you weren't at dating yet."
"Well, yeah, I've asked her out on dates."
"So it's one of those."
He sighs and shakes his head. "She's already been to my house like four times, I think."
You stretch out your hand to give him a fist bump. "Nice."
"Don't be stupid, you know it's not like that. Where the fuck else..."
You smirk and retract your arm. "I'm just fucking with you, man. Trust me, if anyone knows how the system works, it's me."
Jaewook purses his lips. "Right." He sits back down on the couch with a tired thud that makes the old cushions sink. "This is all so stupid." His voice is a mumble as if speaking only to himself.
You gulp down beer. "Again, trust me. I know." You're not a serious kind of person, but you're sure he recognizes the honesty in your voice. "Anyway, you better get on that shit. If there's only person that matters..." Once more, you have a sudden, uncharacteristic sincerity about you. When you and Jaewook and Chaemin and the rest of the guys hang out, it's always fun and games, and no time to dig deeper, talk about anything that matters. It's different here. Call it matching the dim atmosphere of the night. "You know the headlines are saying it was love at first sight."
Jaewook waves a dismissive hand. "Aish, I don't care about comments."
"That's not the point. Does she know?"
He thinks for a moment. "Shit."
It's your turn to pat his shoulder. Almost like looking into a mirror.
Jaewook looks more determined than defeated, looking at his phone on the table. (It's a ghost town; he's completely silenced the device because otherwise, it'd be like hanging out with a flashbang in the middle of the room. Now the grenade's just an elephant.) "I'll get right on it. I need to think about what to say, though."
Pat him once more before leaning away.
"But anyway," he says, "that's not what I was asking about. It was more about the idol thing than the dating."
Another sip to think."I see... how do I put this? Imagine trying to date the Mona Lisa."
Jaewook spits out his drink. "What? You're always full of shit."
"I'm being serious! Dating an idol is like robbing a work of art. You have ten security cameras and eight panes of glass between you and the actual painting."
Jaewook's eyes narrow as he considers your analogy. He laughs to himself. "Got it. I didn't know you could be so smart."
"Pft, you know what, I am kicking you out for that—"
"Wait, wait, sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Actually, keep talking."
"Okay," you start again. "Well... If you're an idiot, you'd only see the walls and the cameras. You'd think you're building a relationship, but really, all you're doing is running into more roadblocks, being paranoid, until one day, you'll trip a trip wire, and, ping pang, those eight panes of glass are gone, and the alarms are gonna ring in your ears and all those security guards are gonna drag you out and you'll never be allowed to even see the Mona Lisa anymore."
"Hah, okay. Wow. I thought I was drunk," Jaewook replies, grinning. "Are you okay?"
You clap him on the back and take a swig of beer. "Okay? Bro, I'm doing more than okay. I guess that was just the first time for me."
"So you're saying you've dated more than one idol?"
If only he knew. You sidestep the question. "Ryujin and I are plenty happy," you say with finality. "But that's not the point. I guess you could say she let me see past the walls. Not the cameras—we do know the cameras are still there, but we can't do anything about them anyway, right?"
Jaewook sits back down. "Never mind. I don't know why I came to you for advice," he mutters. "You're clearly insane."
The two of you talk for the rest of the night, mostly about inconsequential matters, like how Jaewook still keeps in touch with his other costars, Minhyun, Somin, and Kiyong, or how Jaewook has been practicing guitar lately. The delivery driver at your door with a bag of chicken asks if you’re that actor, then follows up with asking if you’re that actor who’s friends with Lee Jaewook, then follows that up with asking if you’re that actor who’s friends with Lee Jaewook who’s the thief dating Karina; he just read that on the news—you laugh it off. Over chicken, you share your excitement with Jaewook about debuting as a lead in your own drama.
But amidst all the casual chatter, the question lingers in the air like a persistent itch.
"How do you make it work?"
✦✧✦✧✦✧
"Well, now what?"
You lie in Arin's bed, your arm draped around her warm, perspiring body. The soft glow of dawn casts a faint light on her nude form, revealing the flush of red marks and handprints that decorate her exposed skin. As you steal a glance at her, a mischievous smirk plays on her lips, and her bare back becomes a canvas for your wandering finger. The room is dimly lit, allowing only glimpses of the intimate details of her body, while everything else fades into obscurity.
"What do you mean, Oppa?" Arin responds, then turns to face you. Her eyes gleam with curious desire. Her ass, on full display before you, holds a magnetic allure, enticing you like a loose thread begging to be pulled. Reddened further. Made into your fucking handles. Your finger, more delicately than your wanton thoughts, traces a path down her spine, to venture onto the painted canvas of her backside. Even if the light is soft, it feels like a spotlight on how every contour and curve of her skin comes alive to you.
Your nails dig into the raw flesh as you kiss the nape of her neck. "Is it okay if I sleep here," you ask, "or do I have to sneak out?"
Arin releases a contented sigh, leans into your touch. Her voice carries a breathless quality as she answers, "Stay." Her breath dances against your skin.
So you stay.
"By the way, I've been wondering..."
"What about?" you inquire while your fingers inch closer to the warmth nestled between her thighs. Instinctively, Arin's hips jerk, and her legs close around your hand, holding it captive. The rhythm of her heartbeat resonates against your chest as you lean forward to plant a tender kiss on her cheek.
"How you're not jealous of Ryujin. Like how many guys and girls has she fucked this week?"
"Four. It's a down week." You chuckle, shaking your head as your hand continues its exploration, fingertips caressing Arin's delicate folds. "And I suppose you can imagine how I cope," you reply, the sensation of her moistness enveloping your fingers.
"Mmm, you're such a… cocky… ahh. I don't get it, but it works for you, I guess." Arin smiles, her eyes closed as she relaxes into your touch. She tilts her head back and lets out a moan, a soft one that you've come to love and know so well.
"Besides," you continue, cupping her mound with gentle pressure, "we've always been honest with one another. Ryujin knows that I think you have the most exquisite ass of anyone I've been with, even her. And she agrees. There's no lying between us."
"You really think so?"
Before you can respond, your phone illuminates the bedside table, displaying Ryujin's name on the caller ID. You laugh as you lean over to answer the call. Ryujin's voice reaches you, ragged and husky with desire. You're tempted to confirm with Ryujin about Arin's ass, but a greeting is probably more apt here.
"Hey baby," you say as you hold the phone, tracing careful circles on Arin's thigh. "What's up?"
"I miss you," Ryujin breathes, each word punctuated by shallow pants, "so fucking bad."
"I miss you too," you reply, your fingers continuing their gentle exploration along Arin's sensitive folds. "But isn't it a little weird to call your boyfriend while..."
"I'm what?" More breathy gasps betray her feigned innocence.
"Let me guess," you respond, slipping two fingers into Arin and curling inside. "Missionary?"
Ryujin splutters, her voice rising in pitch as she attempts to maintain her façade, while the man she's with muffles a moan in the background. Her laughter transforms from playful to breathless.
"I know what you wanted to say. 'Missionary? Don't insult me.' My mistake," you say, earning a choked noise from the phone in response, yet you continue. "Seems like a cowgirl kind of night."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she protests, her resistance crumbling under the weight of pleasure. "Ah, ah, fuck..." You can almost picture her at this moment: back arched and head thrown back; ass slamming against the thighs of some other man, each moan like an explosion of color into your imagination.
"So I'm right." You fuck your fingers faster into Arin, the sticky sensation building between your knuckles and the juncture of her thighs; some of it is your creampie, and the rest must be her own juices, because your fingers are sliding in and out with ease. "Lucky guy."
Arin is panting beneath you, face flushed with arousal, rolling her hips in time with your rhythmic thrusting. As you listen to Ryujin's pleasure, Arin grows increasingly impatient. "Please Oppa, please..."
"How's your toy? Is he enjoying himself?" you ask, presenting your fingers to Arin, glistening with a mixture of her essence and your shared passion. A blush spreads across Arin's cheeks as she takes hold of your wrist, her eyes locked on yours. She proceeds to clean your digits with her mouth without breaking eye contact.
"He's a good boy," Ryujin says, "the usual type. I'm showing him the ropes."
You chuckle as you look down at Arin, who takes your fingers deeper and deeper into her throat. She gags, and drool slips from her lips and trickles down her chin. When you finally withdraw your digits, Arin leans over to nibble on your ear and whispers: "I want more."
Instead of responding to Arin's plea, you address Ryujin once more through the phone. "You're so predictable. Let me guess... It's one of those rookie HYBE idols?"
"Maybe," Ryujin manages to reply between breaths, the bed creaking in a rhythm that aligns with her mounting pleasure. "Hmm."
"Can I get a hint?" But instead of a response, all you get is the sound of riding and the faint squelching through your phone.
Arin gazes up at you, her body flushed and needy, a rosy hue spreading across her skin. She grips your shaft firmly, fingers curling around the tip and stroking downward, a small trickle of pre-cum escaping. She mouths, "Oppa, you're hard again."
Ryujin finally speaks up, her voice strained. "Oh, god, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna—"
"Alright, I guess you can tell me later," you interrupt, ending the call just as Arin hooks her leg over your hip, her slick entrance pressing against your throbbing tip.
Arin drags her folds along your shaft and smears your desire against her sensitive clit. "Don't you want to know?"
"No. I'm like her like that. Easily distracted and—"
Not only your words but your breath are cut off as Arin's eager heat swallows your cock whole, only proving your point.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
"Well, now what?"
Your statement follows a gesture toward the couch where Ryujin and Karina are sitting, the latter sitting on the floor between the former's legs. Ryujin is petting Karina's hair, the soft touch providing a much-needed moment of reprieve. Your living room is always cleaner when your girlfriend is over, and the air is thicker and warmer, too. When Karina comes over, the house feels smaller, as if the walls are pushing in to create an intimate barrier, and the words come easier.
"Not today, honey," Ryujin says softly, but a stern undertone remains in her voice, one that you know means "no" and "back off." She can see the hunger in your eyes, the need for you to finish your conversation from yesterday. But as always she's right: you have a guest.
Karina's voice is hoarse. "I'm sorry for interrupting you guys."
"No, don't apologize," Ryujin soothes. "We've had enough fun."
Karina's gaze is downcast as she rests her head on Ryujin's thighs. "And I'm sorry for crying and ruining the mood. I just..." She lets out a soft sob, sniffles. You pass a tissue box to Ryujin, who in turn passes it to Karina.
"She's right," you say. "Nothing to apologize for, nothing to ruin."
Ryujin continues stroking Karina's hair, a small, encouraging smile on her lips.
"And I wrote all that too... I was being sincere and... to the fans"—every word is strained through a sob—"it must look like I don't care about them at all... I'm so... they're saying I'm an embarrassment."
Ryujin grabs Karina's shoulders, bends down so Karina can look up and make eye contact with her. "Hey, listen to me. I'm serious. I want you to stop apologizing. Stop thinking like that. You haven't done anything wrong."
You and Ryujin let time pass as Karina cries on her shoulder, goes through a whole tissue box, and then more time passes. You're thankful that Ryujin was already here when Karina knocked on your door; it was the perfect excuse to not talk about the real elephant in the room. Now, Ryujin's presence acts as a buffer that prevents the elephant from trampling into the conversation and crushing your living room beneath its massive bulk. (The fact that Karina came to you for comfort does not go unnoticed either.)
"What am I going to do? I can't even see him." She sits up and rubs her eyes. There's little makeup to ruin, yet she still manages to smear the little that there is, leaving her cheeks streaked with black and red. Even then, you can still see how gorgeous she is underneath it all, that kind of beauty that goes beyond skin deep. "My image is ruined."
Ryujin's first step for consolation is pushing a slice of pizza toward Karina, who, despite her nerves, starts scarfing down food like a ravenous wolf. "You? Ruined?" Ryujin laughs sarcastically. "Really, an eleven out of ten international supermodel is being brought to the brink by dating a super nice and well-liked guy. If only I were so lucky," she says, looking at you with a pointed smirk.
("Yah!" you mouth as you both laugh to yourselves, in your own private joke.)
"I want it to be simple," Karina says in between bites. "Just me and the people I care about."
Ryujin raises an eyebrow, a sly smirk playing on her lips. "Does that include me?"
Karina turns a deeper shade of red. She rests her head against Ryujin's knees, her eyes shut tight. "You don't count," she whines. However, it seems to cheer her up.
Your girlfriend chuckles a low and melodious sound that fills the room. "I can't help it," Ryujin says, her hands massaging Karina's shoulders and then running down her back, making her shiver. "I can't seem to keep my hands off of you."
"Y-yah," Karina stammers and then turns around to look at Ryujin with a feigned scowl. "I'm being serious though. Even forgetting about all the stuff that I've said... I'm just so stressed out. It's impossible to make time with him, especially now that it's all out in the open."
"Then don't," Ryujin offers bluntly. You give her a pointed look as if to say "Really? Don't?" But Ryujin ignores you, focusing her attention on Karina. "If it's too complicated then you shouldn't force yourself."
Karina shakes her head vehemently, eyes welling with tears once more.
"I don't mean don't date him!" Ryujin clarifies quickly, then takes a moment to ponder. "I mean, look at us." Ryujin points to herself and then to you, her eyes warm and inviting as she smiles at you. Karina follows Ryujin's line of sight with a tilt of the head.
"I know what you're going to ask," you say, "and yeah, he's already two steps ahead of you. He asked me how me and Ryujin made it work."
"And what did you say?" Karina asks.
"Well, I didn't get into the specifics with him." You were sidetracked with analogies, and you think the less drunk Karina wouldn't appreciate the roundabout method anyway, even if you liken her to a masterpiece of art. And Ryujin, she would appreciate your efforts—she still has the keys you bought her—but would undoubtedly burst out laughing when you got to the point.
Karina sits up straight, her expression eager. "Please tell me, I want to know. How does it work?"
Ryujin giggles while she leans in close to Karina's ear. "You really want to know? I think our arrangement is a little bit different than what you're used to."
"How?" Karina asks, her breath coming out in sharp rasps.
Ryujin runs a finger along Karina's jawline. "We've got quite a few friends, if you haven't noticed."
"What do you mean?" Karina looks so innocent when she's confused, like a lost kitten. So cute.
Ryujin always has the most fun when she's teasing, and the easiest target is often Karina, like this. It's not just teasing the way that actual friends tease: these are the touches she gives to her targets. To her prey. Her fingers brush against Karina's neck, trailing down to the base of her throat.
"I mean…" you start, "so you know how the number one problem is when schedules don't line up? You want to go out on a date, but you're both too busy?"
Karina nods slowly.
Ryujin leans forward, her voice dropping to a low purr. "We have other friends who we can spend time with. People who are also very friendly."
"I-I don't really get how that helps your relationship," Karina says.
"What I'm saying is—"
You stop Ryujin before she can explain further. "Hey, hey, wait, let's not freak her out. I don't think she's ready for that yet. But, I think there's still a point there. You have to be patient. To not be jealous. And, it's easier to do that when you have other people you're spending time with, too."
"That makes sense, I guess," Karina says, her finger on her lips. She lifts her head and traces patterns on Ryujin's knee, absentmindedly.
"Eventually, if it's meant to work out, time will make itself."
Karina sighs, her shoulders slumping. "You're right."
You watch as she closes her eyes meditatively and clasps her hands together. You exchange glances with Ryujin, who shrugs, and you both sit in silence for a few moments, waiting for her to finish. Finally, she opens her eyes with determination. You've never seen such fire in her eyes before.
"Alright, I can do this." Karina pumps her fists in the air, and you can practically see the confidence radiating from her.
"Good girl," Ryujin says, which earns an indignant huff from Karina.
"Shut up." Karina crosses her arms and sticks out her tongue. "I'm not a child," she says, like a child.
"If you're going to keep saying sorry all the time, you're acting like a child," Ryujin responds teasingly.
"Shut up!" Karina pushes Ryujin back onto the couch and climbs on top of her. Ryujin laughs but doesn't push back, not resisting as Karina leans forward and pins her to the cushions. You can tell that Karina is just playing around, and the sudden silence from Ryujin is genuine. Karina gets off of Ryujin's lap, a blush spreading across her cheeks when she sees your stare.
You, Ryujin, and Karina manage to move on and spend the rest of the night playing board games and chatting casually. Most of the conversation revolves around you recounting stories from your filming sets and Ryujin giving you a hard time about your acting, while Karina listens attentively to the both of you. Eventually, when the late hour strikes, the conversation slows to a halt. Ryujin yawns and stretches, and Karina is cuddled up with her.
"Hey, Karina," you say. "Are you going to go home tonight?"
"Huh?" Karina replies, opening her eyes. "I thought I would sleep over."
Ryujin nudges Karina. "Wow, how bold of you, sleeping at your ex's place. Were you gonna do it even if I wasn't here?"
"Yah!" Karina squeals, jumping up. "That's not what I meant, I wouldn't do that!"
"I'm just messing with you. I'm staying here tonight, too. And you..." She makes a pointed glare at you. "You're sleeping on the couch tonight, right?"
"This is my house," you say, sighing, as you watch the two girls leave for your bedroom, and you fetch a blanket and pillow for yourself.
One night of sleep on your sofa is a small price to pay to see them so happy together.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
"W-well..."
It's been a while since you've been in such a compromising position. Ryujin is on top of you, her hips pinning you to the bed. You're lying on your back like a helpless lamb to the slaughter, no room for resistance when her fingers trail along your chest, collect beads of sweat from the surface of your skin. Your hands are also pinned, under the diligent grip of Haewon, eyes possibly more watchful than Ryujin's own—they're pencils, pens, chisel to the marble statue of your form. If Ryujin's hands were to strike at that very moment, would you crumble into dust, or be reduced to a pile of rubble? Haewon, the interloper, the invader of privacy who has no reason to be in this room, is nude as well, her full breasts bared before you, nipples taut and erect. As if to invite the touch that you can't give and wish you could. Haewon's tits are bigger than Ryujin's, and she looks at you like she knows it, all the more eager to tease you with her assets. You've already had your chance to savor those breasts—Haewon let you play with them for a while—but now you're stuck and happily stuck if you had to admit it.
"Well," Ryujin echoes, like the natural formation of a canyon could mock the rockiness of your voice, "what now?"
Your breath falls off a cliff.
"Isn't there something you want to say? Come on, Oppa. Tell us what you did wrong," Ryujin coaxes as she leans forward and presses her lips to yours. Her tongue probes into your mouth to deepen the kiss while her hips grind against yours in a tantalizing rhythm. She pulls away suddenly and chuckles.
This is a bad cop, bad cop situation. You gulp. "I'm sorry."
"'Sorry' isn't what we're looking for," Haewon says, low. This is one way to meet someone for the first time; somehow, this suits whatever image you had of her, based on Ryujin's stories, or based on how she is behind the camera. But now she has both eyes on you, and those eyes are like the barrel of a gun, and that gun is pointed straight at you. It's not like you haven't been in more compromising situations—but this feels more dangerous. It's in the way that your girlfriend and the newcomer are so alike in their ability to control the expression of their face: it's like watching two puppeteers exchange roles seamlessly. When Ryujin looks at you, and then at Haewon—the way that the smirk on Ryujin's face changes in tone when she turns to her friend—the way her eyes soften, then her cheeks turn rosy—the way that when Haewon crinkles her nose in disapproval, Ryujin pouts in return—and then they both look back at you with narrow-eyed disappointment; it's all so precise, you might think this is a rehearsed scene. Haewon knows how to play along with the moment, even if you're certain she has no context.
Ryujin asks you another question: "Are you gonna keep acting like this?"
"Acting like what?" you reply, your voice a croak. Your throat is dry, your pulse pounding. The heat of arousal is pooling in your groin. You swallow hard as Ryujin shifts her position to grind herself against your clothed shaft. She leans forward to capture your lips once again, to kiss you passionately, to plunder your mouth with the reckless abandon of her tongue.
"Like you didn't make Karina cry," Ryujin mumbles in between kisses. She pulls away slowly, a thin strand of saliva connecting her lips to yours.
"So this is my fault, and not, I don't know, her actual boyfriend?" You prop yourself up by your elbows, halfway sitting up. You take a glance at Haewon. "Besides, what's she doing here? No offense"—Haewon shrugs—"but this doesn't involve you."
"I'm just here to have fun," she says. "And I'm here because Ryujin wanted me here."
You look back at your girlfriend. "Babe..."
Ryujin cups your chin and tilts your head towards her. Her eyes meet yours, fiery determination reflected in the depths of her gaze. "Karina came to me crying. And guess what? It's because you broke her heart."
"What? That's impossible. How? I didn't do anything to her."
"No? That's not what she told me." Ryujin's tone is flat and level. She's not angry. But there's a weight in her words that strikes fear into your heart, a cold dread that runs down your spine like liquid ice. "You were supposed to be the most amazing boyfriend. And yet you broke her heart."
The thing with timing and love and circumstance and all the little things that make or break a relationship is that it's so easy to fuck up without realizing it. What happened between you and Karina, you would rather ascribe to fate's hands; truth is these hands are invisible because they don't exist, and it's the fault of your own for faltering. In a different time, you would not have met Ryujin after you and Karina broke up—in that other time, you would have been patient, and that other time is in a way so much more rational, because who would not wait for Karina? By all measures, she is worth the wait. But you were greedy, and that greed led you to Ryujin. Your lust got the best of you, and in return, so did your love for both of them.
Ryujin must have seen something in your expression that she takes as guilt because she releases your wrists and places her hands on either side of your face, holding your head steady as she studies your features. For a single second, that tight control over her facial muscles falters, which reveals an uncommon hurt in her eyes.
"You know what? This isn't the time," she whispers. "Not with our friend here." She nods toward Haewon, who gives you a cheerful wave in return.
"Hey, don't let me stop you. If you wanted to talk, then maybe we should have done this one on one."
"No," Ryujin replies, shaking her head. "It's not that serious. I just..."
You lean forward and press a kiss to the tip of Ryujin's nose, hoping that it will calm her nerves. "I know, I know. You actually care about her. I do too. I did. Let's... we can figure this out later."
Your next kiss is not so chaste. You plant a trail of kisses down Ryujin's cheek to the corner of her mouth. Her hands travel along the curve of your jaw, they tangle in your hair, and then she deepens the kiss. Her tongue slips past your teeth, presses her body closer to yours, molds your chests together, her perky breasts a sweet contrast against your hard muscles. You have the thought: what would your observer's tits feel like instead?
"Wow. So sweet," Haewon says quietly as she watches the two of you making out. "I guess I am just here to watch." She shifts her position to rest against the headboard of your bed, giving her an unobstructed view of you and Ryujin.
Ryujin lets out a soft whimper as your hand grazes her inner thigh. "No, come here, Haewon," she whispers, patting the spot next to her.
Haewon glances between the two of you with uncertainty before she slowly rises and climbs onto the bed beside Ryujin, where she scoots close to her friend. She keeps her eyes glued to yours and cups Ryujin's face in her hands and leans forward; they kiss. Haewon closes her eyes and moans softly as Ryujin trails kisses down the column of her throat, nibbles at her pulse point.
Sex isn't an answer or a reward or a conversation; it's the spark, the catalyst, the fuel on the fire, all of them mixed into one. And when that spark meets the catalyst meets the fuel on the fire, there are only more questions left over from the remnants of the explosion—and their answers can wait until tomorrow. But for now, when Ryujin's breath tickles your earlobe as she whispers her dirty fantasies, Haewon is kissing a line down your girlfriend's neck; it's in that moment that you don't have room to care about the consequences when this all started and where this will go; instead, you have all night with these two beauties who are so hot and heavy and ready to fuck.
Ryujin's hand snakes down your abs and wraps around your cock, stroking you slowly. You moan as her fingers tease your sensitive flesh.
"You better keep up" almost sounds like an insult.
You will.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
"Well, now what?"
"Should I just break it off? One shot, clean?" Jaewook grabs a bite of steak, sitting across from you in this private room. There are a couple of other actors too, all the same year as you, but they're lost in their own conversations. You're always surprised that Jaewook isn't the center of attention, even with the Damoclesian sword of news hanging over him; then again, all these people are too experienced with the entertainment industry to be swept up by the headlines.
You wish it were that simple is something you wish you could tell him. You wish you could tell him about the time you and Karina dated, and how SM caught the two of you, forced you to break up since she was just a rookie. How you've been friends since. And how every string, between you and Karina, between you and Ryujin, between Ryujin and Karina, are tangled together too tightly for any clean cut to break the web. You want to tell him because if there's anyone who could understand, it's him. But you also know he can't hear it yet, no matter how much you want to get it off your chest.
"Hey, man, I can't tell you what to do," you say instead, sipping your drink. "But it seems like you're enjoying yourself with her."
"That's not the problem," Jaewook says. He gulps before he admits to you, quietly: "Karina isn't the only one."
Your eyes widen, and you almost choke on your food. You cough and try to catch your breath. "You're kidding," you say. "Who else?"
He gives you a rueful smile. "I can't tell you. I promised I wouldn't."
"But then what about Karina? You know every man in Korea would take your place," you point out.
He shakes his head. "I don't know about that. You know, I haven't even seen her in person once since the whole thing started. It's just... a bunch of texts and calls, and the occasional voice chat. It's like a Bubble subscription that I don't pay for."
You laugh. Think back to the time you were in a similar situation with Ryujin, or even Karina herself. "Sure, but I'm sure you're more patient than that."
"Well, yeah, but... it's still hard, you know? I don't know how long I can keep doing this."
You frown and nod slowly. "I get it. You're a good guy. And I know you don't want to hurt either of them."
"I mean, if it's just Karina, I wouldn't mind," he says, chuckling. "But with Somin—" He puts his hand over his mouth, looking around the room.
You can only laugh. "You're hopeless, man," you say. It's easy to picture him and Somin, even though you've only seen them together in one project because you remember the same way she'd look at you when she's having a good time; it's that sort of trust that makes it so easy to fall into a relationship with a co-star. There's a perfect contrast between them: him, sharp on the outside, a teddy bear on the inside; her, a sweet tooth on the outside, a firecracker on the inside. Then, there's that weird sort of chemistry actors have with one another—you and Ryujin always joke about it when she sees you on set with another woman, as though you're both acting like you're not dating. She gets it; she's an idol too.
"I'm so fucked," Jaewook groans. He takes a long sip of his drink before he turns to you with an anxious expression.
He slumps in his chair, and Dohoon calls out from across the table. "Hey, Jaewook, you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah," he says, waving his hand. "I'm fine. Just tired."
"Ah, we're all tired," Dohoon replies with a grin.
"You know, you should get some sleep, Jaewook," you suggest. "You look like you could use it."
"Hey, I'm fine," he says, shaking his head. Jaewook talks about how he and his former costar get to meet up more often, maybe because she's an actress instead of an idol. You already see how this is going to play out, the story written many times before. You try your best to listen, but all you can think about is how your friend is falling deeper and deeper into something he doesn't even realize yet. "We went out for drinks last week," he says.
"I don't blame you," you say, "but I really think you should try to focus on just one person. Even if none of you are actually dating yet." You want to laugh at yourself. How ridiculous of you, a hypocrite to lecture him like this.
"Yeah... I guess you're right." Jaewook scratches the back of his neck, nodding sheepishly. His hand slides down to rest on his chest as he glances at his phone on the table. Another missed call from Karina flashes across the screen before disappearing again.
"Answer that, dumbass." You point. He gives you a look."You act like I'm your personal probation officer."
"I mean, it's kinda true. I'm obviously gonna call back in a second. You know, as soon as you shut up."
You chuckle. "Fine. See, this is why you gotta be more like me. Don't complicate things with what ifs and whatever, just tell Karina straight up."
"You mean, tell her about Somin?"
"No, not that, obviously. That it won't work with you. Look, I'm sure the two of you knew what you were getting into, right? I mean, you knew she was an idol, you knew how hard it'd be to make it work, and you went in knowing that it was just going to be flirting, right? So just go to her and say, 'Hey, this isn't working. Sorry about that. Let's stay friends.'"
"Yeah, but—"
You shake your head. "Trust me. You wanna know how me and Ryujin work it out?"
Jaewook nods. "Oh yeah, you never did answer that."
"We've got friends. Lots of 'em. And I'm not talking about the same friend either. I mean, 'friends'," you say, wiggling your eyebrows. You can see the realization dawning on him, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity and there's the blush and then there's the laughter and finally, acceptance.
"Oh. Oh... I see."
You smile. "So you get it now."
"Kind of? I'm not stupid, I know what you mean. I'm just having trouble seeing how that helps your relationship."
"Less stress, more fun. Don't overcomplicate things."
"Ah," he says, chuckling. "I see. So you're saying... I should get more 'friends'?"
"No, not like that," you say, laughing. "I mean, you do what you want, and I'm sure you're almost as handsome as me to pull it off—"
"You're full of shit," Jaewook retorts, and you both laugh.
You both return to your meals and after a few bites, you have a final piece for him. "But honestly though, if you like Somin, you should go for it. Don't worry about what other people think. I don't have to tell you to let Karina down easily, you know that. But from what I know about her, it's worth stressing that it's not her fault. It's the world's fault. She'll believe you."
He smiles sincerely. "Thank you."
"And above all else, be firm." God, you sound like his dad or uncle or something; the two of you are the same age. You continue regardless, "Otherwise, you'll end up like me, stuck sharing my girl and having to sleep on a couch."
"That bad, huh?"
"Yep. It's terrible. Now make your goddamn call."
You'd think a man like him would be more steadfast. That the truths within himself would come more obviously. Obvious. The word itself is not so. How easily swayed. But does that make you any better?
✦✧✦✧✦✧
"Well, now what?"
"I don't know," Ryujin replies to you. She's in the passenger seat of your car, the two of you parked in some indoor parking lot, and she looks like she's just done fucking you in the backseat because she's just done fucking you in the backseat, her hair sticking to her sweaty skin, even the parts you can't see under her clothes. Karina had the correct idea, wanting things to be simple. That's why you and Ryujin always make time like this—to talk and fuck, then talk again. Most likely fuck again right after.
A blush crosses her face when she notices you staring at her in the mirror. You appreciate in these moments when she's cute and still trying to figure out her breathing.
"No, actually, I do know," she says, like she caught it.
"What?" you ask. You open your arms out. Ryujin presses herself against your chest. You wrap around her waist, bring her close, tight, only in the way that two lovers so sure of themselves can do. You and she stay like this for a while, her soft breaths tickling your neck while she relaxes against you. "You wanna tell me instead of talking in puzzles? That's pretty new for you."
Ryujin sighs, rests her head on your shoulder. "I'm not sure what to do," she says.
"About what?" you ask. You press a kiss to the top of her head, and she smiles and nuzzles against you.
"Well, Karina..."
"What is it?"
"She's cute."
You laugh."Yeah, I agree."
Ryujin looks like she's steeling herself to say something. Again, it's adorable, how she readies her eyes, breathes out slowly, and clenches her fist. "Here it comes. Okay. I can say this." (Watching her go through this routine has your eyebrows almost permanently raised.) "I like Yu Jimin. I really like her."
You start half of a laugh in disbelief. Then, it becomes a full laugh. When Ryujin looks at you with utter disbelief at the audacity you're showing her, you reach over and grab her ass, squeezing it, and that earns you a squeal from Ryujin.
"That's what you were worried about?" you ask.
Ryujin nods, a sheepish smile on her lips. "You..." She narrows her eyes and hits you in the shoulder. "I'm being serious!"
"I know you are, baby."
"So why aren't you freaking out or anything?"
"Really? Do I even have to say why not?"
"I-I mean, like, I know we have the whole deal and whatnot, but that's different. That's just fucking. I... I truly, actually love Karina."
"And I've noticed that," you reply.
You pull her in for a kiss, lips parting as you cup her head in your hands. Your tongue flicks out against her lower lip and taste the salty tang of perspiration and saliva. Whatever steady rhythm she's caught has re-unsteadied, her motions still fervent and rushed. Every time you make out with her in your front seat, you recall the first time after picking her up from a radio show, remember how you'd fucked her on the stairs of her dorm afterward, in her bed while Lia and Yeji were in the living room, how the two of you snuck out. The memory gets you hard, and she's already noticed.
Ryujin breaks the kiss to stare at your hard cock in disbelief like she can't comprehend how you've managed to recover so fast despite already understanding your stamina. But she's also gasping, gulping air down.
"Goddammit, hold on," she says, holds your shoulders, and pushes away from you as she leans back. "I was saying something."
"Oh. Yeah. Karina." You wipe your lips, some saliva dribbling on your hand. "Please, I don't even get why we're having this conversation. Aren't you supposed to be the observant one?"
"Well, because you're my boyfriend," she says, matter-of-factly. "And I'm your girlfriend. That's why we're talking about it. That was the first thing we talked about when it came to this open relationship thing, what to do about real emotions and feelings and shit."
"Good point. But why are you worried about how I feel about Karina? You know that we're all friends here, that we didn't break up on bad terms or anything. So if there's anyone I trust you with, it's her. Besides, I see how you look at her. And touch her. Shit, aren't you two close enough to be a thing?"
"I don't know." Ryujin shakes her head. "Maybe we are, but I don't know if she feels the same way."
"Why would she play along if she didn't like you?"
"I don't know," she says again, sounding exasperated. "I always get the feeling that maybe she's just being nice. Besides, look at her, goody two shoes. I bet she thinks if she accidentally looks at boobs other than her own in the mirror, she'd go to hell."
The picture of Karina turning herself on with her own nude body in the mirror has both you and Ryujin distracted, mouth open, picturing. It's funny how in sync the two of you are, and when you realize it, you and Ryujin start laughing.
"I wouldn't put it past her to do that," you say.
"Maybe I'm right," Ryujin retorts. "God, her body... Seriously, I always love getting an eyeful whenever she comes over and insists to stay in her pajamas."
"Pft. Trust me, those types of girls... Half the time they're exactly as they appear. The other half of the time, they're secretly kinky bitches who'll tie you up and fuck you until you beg for mercy. But you'll still get hard for them."
"Wow, that's deep," Ryujin says, smirking. "That from experience? You fucking Christian girls without me?"
"Meh, I just knew the type." You shrug.
"Wait a second, did you and Karina—"
"No, no, we didn't get that far back then. Trust me, I'd be surprised at who I am right now."
"Yeah, an absolute manwhore."
You raise your hands in surrender. "I get the point." You look up at Ryujin, the moonlight filtering through her hair and outlining her face. "But back on topic, I think you should just tell her how you feel."
"But what if she doesn't feel the same way? Or if she does, what if she gets scared off? She's really sensitive about that stuff. I don't want to push her too far, and our friendship is important to me." Ryujin looks down; it's the most serious you've ever seen her about anything other than dancing, music, and you. You know in the whole list of priorities, her friendships are always number one, and you've always conceded to that. "If we couldn't do it, I would be fine with that."
"I don't know, just take it slow. Don't go in for a kiss, just... try something. Hold her hand. If she's uncomfortable, she'll let you know. And if she doesn't, then..." You trail off, the implication hanging heavy in the air.
Ryujin nods, but there's still a hint of doubt in her voice when she replies. "I can try, I guess. Thanks, baby."
You reach out and grab her hand, lacing your fingers together. The two of you stay like that for a few moments, listening to the faint sounds of the night, speeding cars, and distant cicadas crying out. You speak up, your voice low. "I have some insider news for you."
"Hm?"
"She's going to need a shoulder to cry on."
Ryujin contemplates it; you're unsure how deeply as you lean the driver seat back while Ryujin pushes down on your shoulders. The car bumps to a musical rhythm, silent save for the soft moans and groans.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
Well, now what's on your doorstep is a peculiar combination, really. Sieun and Somi don't have much in common besides their time at JYP and being idols. Oh, and they both speak English, although Somi is more fluent. But Sieun isn't too shabby at it either. Fortunately, they both possess a natural charm when it comes to meeting new people, allowing them to quickly form a bond, especially in the heat of the moment. Maybe you would’ve preferred just one, or just the other. Yet, you couldn't help it. You were double-booked.
“I’m sure we can work something out between the three of us,” Somi says with a smirk while comparing her forearm to your length, and Sieun nods.
Next thing you know, Sieun is taking the head of your cock into her mouth, her lips forming a perfect circle. The sensation of her warm tongue against your shaft sends hot pulses through your body, and her fingers wrap around the base of your member, around the head of your member when it strokes up.
Meanwhile, Somi directs her attention towards your balls as her hot breath tickles your sack. She skillfully licks, kisses, and sucks on them. The synchronization between the two is impeccable as if they have engaged in this act together countless times before (which they haven't because this is only their third time ever having seen each other in person). Your eyes are fixated on Somi's breasts, a stark contrast to Sieun's. Somi's bosom is larger and bounces like a buoy with each bob of her head. Her nipples are erect as well like two tiny beacons calling you to touch her.
Sieun slows down and pulls back just enough to leave her lips wrapped around your cockhead before she looks up at you through long, full lashes. The corners of her mouth are upturned into a smile. She swirls her tongue around the head of your member while her hand continues to stroke your base. Gazes up at you, her lips now red and slightly swollen. "You like watching me suck you off, don't you?"
"I love it," you say, your voice husky. "Your mouth feels so good."
She grins, her tongue flicking out to lick the tip of your dick. "You want more?"
"Fuck yes."
Somi, sensing your distraction, switches to teasing your shaft with her tongue and lips and hands. "What about me? What do you think about my mouth?"
"Y-yes," you reply, panting. You run your fingers through Somi's hair. "Your tits and your lips and your tongue... you look so fucking hot like this."
Somi hums in acknowledgment as she slides her tongue along the underside of your shaft, then lowers back to your balls, where her hands cup and gently massage them. "Mmm," she says, the vibrations of her voice on your testicles causing your thighs to tremble. "I'm gonna make you feel so good."
Your hips buck at the combined efforts of the girls' ministrations, their hot breaths and moist mouths covering every inch of your lower body. You think you've reached the peaks of your pleasure already when Somi ventures lower at the same time as Sieun. While Sieun puts her hands behind her back and uses only her lips to take you in, Somi spreads your cheeks open with both hands. And before you can even react, Somi's tongue is already pushing into your hole, hot and slick against your sensitive skin. The pleasure from her licking and probing your pucker sends waves of euphoria throughout your body. You moan louder than expected and grip the bedsheets tightly while your muscles contract involuntarily.
As Sieun takes in more of your shaft into her mouth, Somi withdraws her tongue, only to replace it with a finger, slick with saliva. It pushes past your rim with relative ease, but it still stings, and you let out a low hiss through your teeth as she slowly inserts her digit. You must already be unloading pre-cum into Sieun's mouth because that's the experience you've had with Ryujin whenever she's done this to you in the past. Somi only leaves a knuckle deep inside your hole, which is all she needs while her tongue returns to tease your balls. The feeling of her lips and teeth grazing your sack is a stark contrast to her gentle touch inside of you. When she pulls her finger back out, she replaces it with her tongue once again. She licks your rim in an almost lazy manner as if she doesn't care that she's doing this and could continue for hours.
The combination of their mouths and tongues and hands has your head spinning and vision blurring—you've drunk too much, yet your mouth is so dry.
Unfortunately, it appears that your girlfriend possesses some sort of uncanny radar for interrupting your most intimate moments. Your cell phone relentlessly rings and buzzes on the bedside table, disrupting the erotic symphony unfolding before you.
"Answer it," Somi says, looking up at you from between your legs. "I'm not stopping."
You reach out and grab your phone, your hand shaking. "H-hello?"
"Hey, baby. What are you up to?" Ryujin's voice sounds amused on the other end of the line.
You can only breathe heavily, between the woman slurping on your cock, and the other one keeping her promised tongue in your most sensitive region. "No, nothing. Just watching a movie." You’re not sure yourself why you lied there. Usually, that’s Ryujin, teasing you about who she’s with.
"Oh really? What's it about?" Ryujin's voice drips with curiosity.
You grunt as you desperately try to collect your thoughts amidst the tantalizing distractions. "Um... it's about this girl who's obsessed with her ex."
"That sounds interesting," she replies, her tone laced with amusement. "So, how is she obsessed?"
A shudder runs through your body as Sieun and Somi persist in their arousing endeavors, their tongues continuing to lavish attention upon your member and balls. "Um... she's like... she can't get over him, so she stalks him and stuff. But he's dating someone else now, and she's not happy about it."
"I see," Ryujin responds. "Sounds like quite a crazy movie you're watching."
"Mmhm," you manage to reply, struggling to suppress a moan as Somi grabs a bundle of Sieun's hair with her free hand and forces her further down onto your cock, her nose pressed against your pelvis, her lips stretched wide around your thick girth. A gag escapes from Sieun as she coughs and chokes on your meaty shaft for a moment. When she withdraws slightly, bubbles of spit form at the corner of her mouth, trailing down the shaft of your member and collecting in Somi's hands, and then she completely removes your cock from her mouth with an audible pop, a string of saliva dangling between her lips and your shaft.
"What happens next?" Ryujin asks on the other end of the phone.
"I don't know," you breathe out, trying to keep your voice steady despite the current events. "We're just starting. I don't know what the ending will be yet."
"I think I have an idea of where it might go," Ryujin says."By the way," Ryujin's voice interrupts your pleasure-induced haze, "before you cum down her throat, put me on speaker. I want to talk to her."
Your eyes widen in disbelief, a mix of pleasure and panic coursing through your veins. "What? No—"
"Put it on speaker," she insists firmly.
With a groan of surrender, you comply, hitting the speaker button on your phone and placing it on your stomach.
"Hey there, I'm Ryujin, and I'm this guy's girlfriend," Ryujin says, her voice coming out as a purr. "Do you mind telling me what you're doing to him right now?"
Sieun wipes her mouth with the back of her hand before replying. "O-oh, hey," she says as if she has any clue what's going on. "I-It's Sieun. Hi."
Ryujin gasps. "Sieun! It's been so long! We haven't met since you were in JYP. How've you been?"
Sieun's cheeks flush a deep pink, and she responds, "Um, good! I-I'm doing good."
Meanwhile, Somi doesn't even try to hide her grin as she takes over suction duty, her lips wrapped tightly around your shaft. You can feel her tongue swirling and teasing your tip, driving you wild with pleasure.
"Wait a minute..." Ryujin says. "Who's that? Is that another person?"
"Hah, Ryujih," Somi says, her voice muffled by your dick.
"No way," Ryujin laughs. "I can't believe this. Is that you, Somi?"
Somi spits out your dick and sits up straight. "Yep, it's me."
"Wah, wooow. You know, I definitely expected you, and maybe Sieun a little bit, but the two of you together... Wow. I never would've guessed. But, I mean, if you're both in on it, then I guess it's okay."
"Y-yeah," you say, trying to catch your breath as Somi resumes her assault on your senses.
"So, how do you feel about sucking my boyfriend's cock?" Ryujin asks, her voice filled with curiosity. "Is it good? Does it taste good?"
Sieun's eyes are half-lidded with lust, and she whispers, "It's really good."
"And what about you, Somi? You like sucking his dick too?"
"Yeah, it's great," Somi says, giggling. "He's so big."
Ryujin chuckles. "Oh my god. I can't believe it. You two are actually sucking his dick right now, aren't you? This isn't a prank call or something? Woah, I'm seriously in awe, you guys. That's awesome. I wish I could join in."
You moan, your cock throbbing between Somi and Sieun's mouths as Ryujin continues to chat with them, her voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. It's a surreal experience, how casually she's speaking with them about sucking your dick, and yet there they are, eagerly obeying her every command. Ryujin tells them to take turns deepthroating you—they comply, their tongues caressing your shaft while their lips wrap tightly around your base. Then, Ryujin tells Somi to cover your cock in spit, and Somi does so: saliva drips from her lips as she drools all over your shaft. Next, Ryujin commands Sieun to lick Somi's spit off your balls, and Sieun happily laps up every drop before Ryujin has Somi spit again. Ryujin tells them to make out for as long as possible while simultaneously trying to fit your cock between their lips, and Somi and Sieun do just that—they kiss as if their lives depended on it, unwilling to separate from one another until the last moment when they have to come up for air.
"Okay, I've had enough fun for now. I can make myself cum later with this," Ryujin says, panting. You picture her on her bed, phone in one hand and the other down her panties. "You can go off speaker now. I have something else to tell you, Oppa."
You take the phone off speaker and hold it up to your ear. "What is it?"
"First of all, I asked Karina out," she says, all excited. "Made it clear it was a date. And she was confused, and I think she still kinda is. But that's fine."
"Great for you," you say.
"Are you busy Saturday night?" Ryujin asks.
"Should be okay." This one comes out breathily as Somi starts to wrap her tits around your shaft.
"Perfect. Perfect. I think it'll be a lot better if you're there. Just in case. And maybe we can figure something out. So the other thing is you better..."
You forgot what she said, right up until your climax, when the order comes back to you. It was quite hard deciding on which idol to cum inside. Ultimately, Sieun took your creampie gladly, while Somi seemed happier at the chance of eating that same load out of Sieun.
No wonder you're so devoted to Ryujin: for this night alone, she deserves more than she knows.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
"Well, now what?" becomes Jaewook's question, and it's funny hearing it from him. The expected headlines are out now, busy schedule, break-up, blah, blah, blah. Somehow, he's made much more time for Somin, and you don't necessarily blame him for it. He's getting a lot less dumb hate, and for that, you're happy for him. But then, there are the headlines featuring you, and a certain two other idols at a cafe in the countryside. Seriously, the town has a population you can count on your fingers and toes. How did that happen?
You look around Jaewook's house; it's much nicer than yours, although it's a shame it's so empty with how big the rooms are. You notice yellow flowers on a stand; he has a good sense for fashion, not as much for interior decorating—that's the work of a woman with an eye for color. You can't help but wonder how close they are, to know so much about one another. You're not jealous. People find their own ways, and those ways change with the people they meet, or lose. You can't be jealous. Everything gained for one is everything lost for another.
Karina, in this way, is everything.
"I knew this would happen." Jaewook laughs to himself.
"You couldn't dream of a tenth of it."
"Alright, keep the mystery to yourself. I'm happy as is."
You nod, sipping your beer. "So, how's Somin?"
"She's good," he says, with a shrug. "A lot more time for each other. Just like you said."
"You don't regret anything?"
"I mean... obviously, you've got to, at least a little bit, right? You know, someone told me, if it's Karina, you clear your schedule, you quit your job, you better move the world for her. I've thought about it. But, there's no point in dwelling on it."
You can't help but let a grin spread across your face. "You know, I bet she's a lot less uptight."
"Really? I didn't get that notion from Karina the times we talked... but I guess we never got that deep."
You shrug. "We can't all be lucky as you and me."
"You say that, but you're the one with a girlfriend who knows exactly how to keep you happy. And now, two girlfriends?"
"It's complicated. Karina, well... she's just a friend. But, you know, I just wanted to hear it from you. We're cool, right? Like, you have nothing against me?" you ask.
"Sure," Jaewook says, "whatever. When I found out you two were exes, I realized everything. In fact, are you sure you can keep doing... whatever it is you and Ryujin do?"
"That's a good point. I guess, hm, I'll cross that bridge when we get there. But forget about that. We're good?"
"Yeah," he says. "We're good."
You clink your beers together. "Great."
Guys are easy, you've learned. Even the ones who are your supposed competition in life are simple as hell. It's a blessing and a curse that a beer and a lent ear are all it takes. And even if Jaewook didn't need it, you needed his. He was right, as much as you don't want to admit. The question of how you and Ryujin can keep things up without hurting Karina is something you haven't considered in any depth. And now that the thought is planted in your head, it's all you can think about.
When it comes to girls...
They're easy too, you've learned. But then, they're also difficult, not by some inherent property, but by the world making it so. Maybe you can graze at this feeling, with the challenges and expectations and scrutinies as an actor, but if you ever felt the need to write an apology for having your own heart and your own mind—then, you'd presume, fault lays on the shoulders of others, not yourself.
No. It's not about guys, girls, or the world and its difficulty.
It's you and the mess that you've made.
Then again, there is no real harm in making some more.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
"Well, now what?"
You're at a party, a surprisingly big one for you, for once. There are some familiar faces, and some not so familiar. Most importantly, your two girlfriends are there. How's that for a statement? That's right, Ryujin and Karina, your hot and sexy threesome girlfriends, together at a party with you.
It's been a week or two since the gossip went viral. No one believes the three of you are dating, and that would be the truth. A more accurate assessment of the current situation is that you're dating Ryujin and Ryujin is dating Karina. Considering the history between you and Karina, you'd say that's for the better.
At this moment, you're not together with Ryujin and Karina at the party, unsure where either of them went. Instead, you're on the third floor of this huge house, sharing some strong, over-sweet mixed drink with Minji, Yoonjung, Jiwon, and Soobin. You're surprised to see Minji here at all, considering she just started drinking recently. If anything, you'd think she might join the other fromis_9 girls in their own circle. Meanwhile, as expected, Jiwon is the odd Fromis member out, the loudest, the social butterfly. Yoonjung is the only fellow actor, who of course you know from Jaewook, so most of your time is spent talking to her, and so far, Soobin hasn't said much. Didn't expect him to. So you're surprised when he speaks up first.
"What do you mean?" he asks.
"What do you mean 'what do you mean'?" you reply.
"Like, when you say 'now what?' Because you say that a lot," Soobin replies, in a measured tone.
"Uh... I dunno. I kinda just get bored sitting still. I wanna know what's the next scoop, or what's the next move, whatever. Like, what's your plan now? I'm surprised that you're already done with Ryujin. It's only been a few weeks. What happened?"
Soobin places his hand over your mouth and pulls you away from the girls to the corner of the room—looks almost like a kidnapping, making Minji and Jiwon's eyes wide. His smile placates them, that damned adorable smile. "Yah," he says, "what's wrong with you? You can't just say that."
To be fair, the music was loud, and the conversation was very hush. You smile sheepishly. "Sorry. Guess I'll play it safer next time. Oh, come on, we're all celebrities here, I think everyone knows about Ryujin and I by now. And Karina too. And you, and Yunjin, and Yeonjun, and—"
He laughs. "You're so funny. Seriously, you're going to give me a heart attack."
You snort. "Alright, alright, whatever. But you're done with her?"
"Yeah, well," Soobin leans in to whisper, "she's been killing me recently."
You don't need him to elaborate further. You understand. "Sorry to hear that. She's a lot of work, huh?"
"Don't I know it." He takes a sip of his drink and shakes his head. "But it's fine. I mean, it's not like it's just me. Everyone else is dealing with it, too. I feel bad for the guy she's dating now."
You raise an eyebrow. "I'm doing just fine, thank you very much."
Soobin chuckles. "Oh yeah, sure. You're a real saint, you know that? I don't know how you manage her, let alone all the other girls."
"It's not that hard," you say, smirking. "You just gotta be smart about it."
Soobin nods, taking another swig of his drink. "You make it sound like a piece of cake. I think I need a break for now."
"Alright, thanks for letting me know. You didn't have to, or anything, it's really between you and her, but whatever. You're a great guy. If you ever want to try again, I'm sure she's down, but you could let me know too. I'll put in a good word." You bump his shoulder. "Just buy me some chicken or something."
"Deal," Soobin says. You're about to leave before you hear Soobin say, "Yeah." He laughs, maybe a tad too loudly, and shakes his head in disbelief. "You're so ridiculous. This is so ridiculous."
The two of you exchange a brief hug before parting ways, leaving you alone in the crowd of people. You take out your phone and check the messages from Karina, asking if you're free tonight. You know she's probably upstairs hanging out with the JYP girls, like Chaeyoung and Haewon, although you're not sure who else is at this party. But, as much as you'd like to, you can't be everywhere. You send a reply that you're still busy drinking with Minji and Jiwon, and you'll see her soon enough.
As you slip your phone back into your pocket, a familiar deep voice cuts through the ambient noise and captures your attention. "Hey, babe. You got a moment?"
You turn, and there she is, Ryujin, approaching with her signature magnetic allure. Clad in a black minidress that clings to her curves, her stilettos click against the ground with each step. You can tell she isn't bothering with a bra underneath, as her chest sways with each movement, her nipples straining against the fabric. Her flawless makeup accentuates her features, while soft waves of hair cascade around her shoulders. "Sure," you reply, unable to resist the pull she has on you, and then embrace her in a quick hug.
Grabbing your arm, Ryujin pulls you closer. "I need you. Now."
"For what?" you respond, unable to suppress a smirk.
She licks her lips. "How about we go somewhere more private?"
You nod, your heartbeat quickening at the thought. It's not like this is your first time with her, but it always feels like it. Her presence has a way of commanding attention, especially when she's looking as sexy as she is now. "Lead the way."
The two of you make your way through the crowd of people, heading towards the stairs. You catch sight of Yuna and Yeji on the second-floor landing, speaking animatedly with a group of people. Avoiding eye contact with Yeji (things are complicated enough as is), you instead make eye contact with Karina in the circle. You're not sure you can decipher her expression so quickly, but she waves at you and smiles, before returning to whatever conversation she's having. Return the gesture and keep following Ryujin, who leads you down the hall. You notice a couple making out against the wall, and Ryujin glances at them before giving you a wink. She pulls you into one of the rooms, closes the door behind you.
The room is shrouded in darkness, with only a faint glow seeping in from underneath the door. "I didn't realize you had such a spacious house," you remark, taking in your surroundings.
"Tsk, I wish. But I don't feel like wasting time talking." She sits down on the edge of the bed, legs crossed. "Come here. I want you."
A moth to a flame, you stand before her. "You're awfully pushy today."
She giggles. "What can I say? Sometimes, I like having you to myself. Especially when you look like that." Every time Ryujin compliments your appearance, a tinge of self-consciousness washes over you, a person who typically pays little attention to clothing choices. Tonight, it's a simple black button-up shirt and jeans. She reaches out and runs her fingers over the fabric of your shirt and tugs at the buttons until they come undone one by one. "Ah, that's better. Let me get a good look at you."
You understand why men and women alike fall under her spell—the precision with which she controls each word, every action, and the way she effortlessly stirs desire within you. Helpless, you stand there as she takes in the sight of your bare chest, her fingers tracing the contours of your stomach. "You're so strong," she murmurs. "I love that about you."
"Yeah, well, I have to keep up with you." You lean forward, place your hands on her shoulders, then push her back until she's lying down. You hover over her. "Heard you've been wearing out some poor soul."
Ryujin smirks as hands slide up your arms. "Oh, you heard about that? I guess word gets around fast."
"Is that all you've been doing while I've been busy?" you ask, your hand caressing her thigh with deliberate slowness.
"I wouldn't say that. I've been keeping myself entertained." She bites her lip. "I know you have. You should have recorded Arin doing anal. That must've been so hot. You know how many times I made myself cum just remembering how you described it? Fuuck, fuck... I'm already getting wet again."
You palm her breast through her dress, your grip not staying kind for long. You grin at the pretty noise she makes."Yeah, it was pretty amazing. But I think we both know what's even better."
"You're right. I want you inside me."
You slide your hand further up her leg, closer to her core. "Say it."
Whatever might have been in the air, alcohol or static or lust made into the scent of a room, a knock at the door clears it.
"It... it's me. Karina," comes a muffled, hesitant voice.
"Shit," Ryujin mutters. "Just a second." She pushes you back gently and rises to open the door.
And there she is, Karina, standing before you in the flesh, clad in a similarly tight and black outfit as Ryujin. Her dress, though not revealing as much leg, compensates with an open back that adds to her allure. The two girls embrace each other before stepping inside and closing the door. Then Ryujin goes in for a kiss; it's like watching a movie. They start slow, then it gets heated too soon as her body folds into Ryujin's. Maybe Ryujin was right—you could feel a pang of jealousy seeing your girlfriend with your ex. You're not sure you've ever kissed either woman with as much fervor, at least not Karina. When they part, it's as though you've just watched the most beautiful scene in a film, and you're still trying to process the emotions it evoked.
"Hi. Ryujin. Hi, hi," Karina says to Ryujin, her voice quiet. She looks at you. "Hi, Oppa."
"Hey," you reply. "What's up?"
"I saw the both of you heading in here, and I was... I had, had to know..." Already, she's out of breath, worked up.
Ryujin pulls Karina closer, locking the door behind them, and the three of you settle into a circle on the bed. "What did you need to know, Karina?" Ryujin asks, leaning in closer to the other girl.
"I-I'm sorry for following you here," Karina stammers, her gaze fixed on the floor as she folds her hands in her lap.
"Don't worry, you're not interrupting anything," Ryujin assures her with a smile, intertwining their fingers. "We were just talking."
Karina's eyes briefly flicker over your bare torso. "Are you sure?" she asks.
"Mhm. In fact, I think you arrived at the perfect time," Ryujin replies, planting a quick kiss on Karina's cheek. "I think we all need this tonight."
Karina nods slowly. "Okay... if you're sure." After a prolonged pause, she sighs and shakes her head. "I'm sorry if I've ruined things between the two of you. Ever since that date, I've been acting weird, and I'm sure you've noticed. But I don't want to jeopardize your relationship or anything like that."
Exchanging a meaningful glance with Ryujin, who seems amused by the situation, you turn to Karina and speak reassuringly: "It's fine. We understand. And, for what it's worth, you haven't ruined anything. In fact, I think you've helped us." You've reiterated this many times before to Karina, but insecurity lingers, understandably so.
Ryujin grins, sparkling eyes. "Yes, you've been quite the help." She wraps an arm around Karina's waist, pulls her closer, and places a tender kiss on her cheek. "You're amazing."
Karina blushes. "I'm glad."
"Come on," Ryujin says. "We can keep going from where we left off before you so rudely interrupted us."
"I don't know," Karina admits, shaking her head. Her cross necklace bounces against her chest as her gaze lingers on your exposed upper body. You catch the way she bites her lower lip, the way her pupils dilate with desire whenever her eyes meet yours.
"God, you're so cute," Ryujin says, deeply. "You know that?"
"You're not helping," Karina mumbles.
"Do you want me to kiss you again?" Ryujin asks as she cups Karina's face and turns it towards her.
Karina swallows hard. "This is wrong. You know this isn't right. We, what we've been doing, we were just, playing around. Pretending, like... we're not really..."
Ryujin silences her protest. Kisses her deeply. Tongue slips into the other girl's mouth. Karina melts into the kiss while Ryujin's hand slips under her skirt. Ryujin pulls away, panting. "Does that feel wrong?"
"No," Karina breathes out. "Yes. It feels so wrong, oh my god. T-two women, we, shouldn't... no... no, this is bad... this is really bad."
Ryujin puts her lips on Karina's neck. "If you want me to stop, just tell me."
You've never been so aroused in your life, seeing your girlfriend kiss your ex-girlfriend, watching them make out, their bodies pressed together. It's almost surreal, but at the same time, it feels natural. This is how the world is supposed to be, or at least how it's supposed to repay you, Ryujin, and especially Karina. For now, you don't mind being witness to this spectacle, as long as you get a taste of the action.
"Don't stop," Karina whispers, her voice husky. "Please, Ryujin."
Ryujin looks at you, and she knows how badly you want to join in; her eyes tell you that. But you also know she wants to take her time with Karina, to savor every moment. She turns her attention back to the girl beneath her, kisses her again, and explores her mouth with her tongue. Karina is vocal to Ryujin's every touch, starting from fingers running through dark hair, moving down to gentle massages of her neck and shoulder—then, a less gentle kneading of Karina's ample chest over her dress.
There's a plea in Karina's eyes. Please, don't let me moan so deeply, at this lecherous act, at this outright lust. Ryujin does not listen—how can she, above the music outside and the sweet noises coming from her lover? She gropes Karina's breasts with greater intensity and slides her knee between Karina's legs. That knee is a weapon of seduction and lust, and with its power, Ryujin grinds her leg against the crotch of Karina's panties.
Karina's eyes roll back. Ryujin moves down Karina's body, a serpent or a nymph or a succubus, which is enough to make Karina give in and wrap her legs around Ryujin's waist, her arms around Ryujin's neck.
"That's it," Ryujin coos, the temptation of one goddess to make another fall where she stands, assuming she can stand at all when under such a spell. "Give in to your desires."
Your eyes scan over Ryujin's body: smooth thighs wrapped in black stockings, the curve of her ass—which she emphasizes as she sits back and spreads her legs—and a;. "Just let go, baby. Give yourself to me."
You can see the conflict in Karina's eyes. She wants to do as Ryujin says, but she also doesn't want to betray her principles. (What principals, you might ask; this isn't Sunday school.) You wonder how far you can push her. You move closer to them, your hand reaching out and touching Karina's arm. Her eyes snap open with wide-eyed shock.
"It's okay," you say softly. "Just relax."
"But..." Karina trails off, looking away. "I... I can't."
"You can," Ryujin says, kissing her neck. "Because," Ryujin's voice lowers, "you're a good girl."
Karina bites her lip though Ryujin is the one with fangs.
"Yeah, that's it. You're such a good girl." Ryujin licks at her neck, and the girl shivers, but she leans in closer to her touch. "My good girl," Ryujin repeats as if saying it will make it so, and the world has a funny way of answering Ryujin. "Aren't you?"
The devil's flaw was that he was but one creature: you, by contrast, are an accomplice to Ryujin's game. "Yes, you are." You lean down and kiss Karina's cheek, so she shivers at the contact. You press your lips against her ear. "You're a good girl."
Ryujin matches your every peck with one of her own. The twin pair makes her mind melt along with her body, and soon, you've worked her into a fever pitch.
"Fuck," Karina whispers, to make sure the profanity doesn't reach whoever might punish her. She's too loud, too late for that, and you're not complaining. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
You look at Ryujin, who has an approving smile on her lips, which nip at Karina's skin. Between long kisses and short breaths, Ryujin asks, "What do you think Oppa and I were doing when you showed up?"
"I don't know," Karina responds. "I, I really don't know."
Rest your hands on Karina's hips and kiss her deeply. She gasps as you bite her bottom lip, sucking it between your teeth. When you let go, your voice commanding and low, you say, "Be honest. You know. I bet you pictured it as soon as we walked past you. I bet you picture it every time you see me and Ryujin together."
"I..."
"Karina, I know you touch yourself. All the time," Ryujin says, her hand caressing Karina's thigh. "It's obvious. Even a few days ago, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, and you came back looking all flustered and embarrassed."
Karina's face flushes red, her eyes darting away. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh come on," Ryujin says. "Don't try to hide it. You were thinking about me and Oppa fucking. You wanted to watch. To join us." She kisses Karina again, her hands gripping the girl's hips, pulling her closer. "You want it so bad, don't you? And so you followed us here. You're such a naughty girl."
She denies it for a third time. A rooster crows. "I... I'm sorry," Karina says, her voice barely above a whisper.
"It's okay. I don't mind. I like it." Ryujin smiles, her eyes locked with Karina's. "But you know what I like even more? What I want most? It's for you to finally be honest with yourself. I know you're still holding back. I know you want to give in. Don't you?"
Karina looks between you and Ryujin, her eyes full of uncertainty and desire.
You step in, addressing Ryujin. "Baby. She clearly has a lot on her mind. I have an idea. How about while she thinks about her decision, you and I do what we were planning for a while."
"Mmm," Ryujin smiles at you, steps closer to your embrace. "I like the sound of that, Oppa."
Holding Karina's shoulders, you say, "If you want to go, that's fine. If you want to just watch, that's fine, too. Or, if you want to try something, Ryujin and I can help you, right baby?"
Ryujin nods, and Karina nods too, with all the certainty a mumbling mouse would possess.
"S-so, what do, what do I do?" Karina asks.
Ryujin gestures at her. "Sit on the bed. There, good, thank you." Then, Ryujin wraps her legs around you, her arms embracing your neck and kissing you hard. "You better give Karina a show."
"What did you have in mind?" you ask.
"The usual," Ryujin says, keeping her face close.
The usual involves you and Ryujin having a lot fewer clothes by now; however, after you're disrobed to your bare essentials, you stop Ryujin from doing the same—you like the way that the dress clings to her figure, the fabric hiking up past her thighs, so instead, you only tug away her panties from under the dress.
"This is all about Karina," you say to Ryujin, making sure you're loud enough for your ex to hear. You put Ryujin on the bed and kiss her neck, your hands sliding over her body, moving up her dress. "I'm gonna fuck you while I look at her, pretend like it's her."
"Oh my god, that's so fucking hot," Ryujin says, her voice strained.
You grab Ryujin's jaw and turn her head, so she looks at Karina. You speak in a low whisper in her ear, "I'm gonna make you scream for her."
"Yes, yes, yes..."
The stage is set. Now, it's time to begin the performance. For the first act, much-chided missionary—as much as Ryujin and you love exploring positions, there are times when you just want to be inside each other. This is exactly one of those times, especially in service of poor and sweet Karina, who you're unsure if she's ever seen this much sex in her life. And the promise is that you're fucking Ryujin as you would—will—Karina, so let the virginal girl see how it's done. Ryujin lies on the bed, her dress pushed up to her hips. Inspired by Karina's cleavage, you take the neckline of Ryujin's dress and push it down, revealing her breasts. They're a tad smaller than Karina's, but still nice. Her nipples are hard and flushed pink, a perfect match to the blush on her face.
You kneel between her legs, stroking your cock.
"Is this how you want me?" she asks, putting on a cute voice, while she reaches a hand down to spread her pussy open. "Am I a good girl, Oppa?"
"You're so sexy," you say, leaning forward to kiss her. "I love you."
"Mmm, I love you too," she says, moaning as your cock brushes against her pussy. More severely—"Now fuck me. Fuck me like you want to fuck Karina."
You nod, lining yourself up with Ryujin's entrance, and as promised instead of looking into your sweet girlfriend's eyes, you look over at Karina. She's frozen in place, her mouth hanging open. You give her a smile before pushing inside Ryujin, your cock sliding easily into her wet hole. But as much as you savor the familiar feeling of Ryujin's tight pussy wrapped around your cock, you focus on Karina. Her eyes are wide, her cheeks are flushed, and her breathing is heavy. She looks so gorgeous. You start to thrust slowly into Ryujin, trying to imagine it's her instead.
Karina holds her hands in front of her mouth, watching as you continue to pump into Ryujin. The contrast between you and Ryujin's slutty moans and the innocent gaze of her former lover gives you a sexual cocktail you can never get enough of. Ryujin hooks her legs around your waist, forcing you deeper into her pussy. Your hands grip her hips tightly as you fuck her harder. Your eyes are locked on Karina's, your voice is husky and low.
"I wonder if you're just as tight. Or wet. Don't you want to know? Just come over here. Come feel. You'll see."
Karina swallows hard while her eyes dart between you and Ryujin. She licks her lips, and her fingers fidget nervously. The desire in her eyes, the need to give in to her urges, the hunger is like pain and sorrow and conflict and it might make you apologize if you were a better man but you're a worse man, and happier for being so. Her eyes dart from your face to Ryujin's, and you notice her dress shift the barest amount—was she touching herself?
"Come on," Ryujin says, panting. "Don't be shy."
Karina hesitates, then slowly gets up and approaches the bed. She sits next to you, her eyes fixed on your cock sliding in and out of Ryujin's pussy. You lean over and kiss her cheek, your breath hot against her skin. "You can touch it," you whisper.
She takes a deep breath and places her hand on your cock, gasping as she feels the heat radiating from your member; it's slick with Ryujin's juices. Karina runs her fingers over your shaft, exploring every inch of it. "So big," she murmurs, her voice barely audible.
You thrust harder into Ryujin to earn her nails digging into your back, an often-earned and always-treasured hurt. "Yes, yes, yes," she cries, contorts, and arches her back while her pussy tightens around your cock. "Fuck me harder. Show me how you'd fuck Karina."
Pace picks up. You have your hands on Ryujin's breasts, but as much as you love your girlfriend's body, all you can think about is Karina's more sizeable and weighty and all-around better tits. There is no need to consult Ryujin about this—it is the truth, self-evident and wholly transparent, and you know she would be glad to get a feel or taste of them for herself.
Not letting your imagination go to waste, you turn to Karina, kissing her neck softly, then move down to her chest. She gasps as you cup her breast with your free hand, kneading it firmly, enough that you can feel her nipple hardening against your palm through the fabric of her dress. "Mmm, you're so soft." Your voice is low and husky.
Ryujin's voice is high and whining: "Your cock feels so good." She reaches down to rub her clit. "And her tits... fuck, baby, I want to feel them too."
Despite her suggestion, Karina is locked in place, shuddering under your touch as you continue to squeeze her chest like putty in your hands. Her lips part slightly as she lets out a soft moan; the sight of you fucking Ryujin must be driving her insane, must be the first thing she pictured when she saw you and Ryujin together for the first time, must be replaying in her mind over and over again. You can tell by the way her pupils dilate whenever you thrust into Ryujin's pussy, how her breath quickens as you caress her breast, and how her hips buck involuntarily when you pinch her nipple.
"Can you hear how wet Ryujin is? She's so turned on by the thought of me fucking you. The way I'm treating her like a little toy." Every time your shaft hilts, the sound of squishing and cum dripping along with her, it's a noise that is both obscene and arousing, a noise that can only come from the worldly pleasures of the flesh. You're making a mess out of Ryujin, as always. "So are you, Karina?"
She nods, slower than the pot boiling over, slower than a clock ticking—certainly slower than the heat rising within her body.
Ryujin turns and faces Karina. "He's so big. He's filling me up... and he's gonna fill me up so good. This could be you, Karina. He could fuck you so good, fuck!"
"I... I can't," Karina whispers, her voice trembling. "I shouldn't... my first time... marriage."
"Forget marriage. You want to, don't you?" you ask, kissing her neck.
"I don't know," she says, shaking her head.
"It's okay," Ryujin says, her voice breathy and strained. "We won't tell anyone. Just let go."
You pull out of Ryujin, making her whine in protest. You look at Karina. "Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want to feel my cock inside you?" You take her wrist and place her hand on your dick, to let her feel how hard it is. "You can touch it again. See how much I want you."
Karina lets out a small whimper as she feels your cock throb in her hand. She strokes it with the sureness of a surgeon who's never seen a body, her eyes locked on your anatomy. The call for your name is barely audible, rings in your ears all the same.
"Do you want to see how good I make Ryujin feel? How she screams for me?"
Listen, the delicious desperation in Karina's voice. "I do." She says it like she's responding a different question she's made up in your head—here, you can do it too: do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband—and the excuses fall away from her like dead leaves from the branches in winter. She's thawed out, blissful and necessary to touch and so very warm.
You position yourself behind Karina, kissing her neck softly as you unzip her dress. You push it down her shoulders, revealing the pale skin of her back and her underwear, the matching black bra and panties.
Ryujin massages Karina's core through her panties, a satisfied smirk on her lips as she watches the other girl writhe in pleasure. "You're soaking wet."
"I'm not," Karina protests weakly.
Ryujin continues stroking Karina's pussy over her panties, drawing another moan from the girl beneath her. "Mhm. Sure."
"How about this, baby girl? We can take it slow. Take off your panties, and spread your legs, just a little bit, and I'll just rub the tip of my cock on your pussy. Then we can play with your thighs." You whisper into her ear, "If you want me to stop, just say the word. But I think you want it."
Karina shivers and breathes faster yet just nods silently. Lifts her hips and slides her panties off. Drops them dead to the floor. Spreads her legs.
You've waited so long. Not just tonight. Not just since she last broke up. Not just when you became friends or when you were still in love. It's been months and years of wanting; it's everything, and more. Of all the women who have come and gone from your life, Karina's presence remains undisturbed and ever-present—a ghost that haunts the halls of your heart with a sweet and melancholy song. Her skin is so soft under your fingers as you caress her thigh. You examine her with reverence and wonder, most of all her pussy, because of all the women you've seen (and you've seen a lot), Karina has the nicest pussy, a perfect and pink pussy, one that is begging to be filled by your cock.
"That's it," you murmur. Run your fingers through her wet folds and grab her ass with one hand. "Such a good girl."
You press the tip of your cock against her entrance. "Wait, w-wait," Karina stammers, her eyes wide with panic.
Ryujin strokes her hair and grabs your shaft, aligning it away from Karina's virginity. "Shh, it's okay. Just relax." She presses your cock against Karina's clit, rubbing it up and down, and Karina gasps, her body tensing. "Does that feel good?"
"Do you like it when I rub your pussy with my cock?" you ask.
"Mmm… yes," Karina says.
"Good." Ryujin keeps stroking your cock against Karina's sensitive nub, which draws another moan from the girl. Karina squirms and her face flushes a deep crimson. "Let him play with your tits."
"Oh my god," Karina gasps, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. You reach around and cup her breasts through her bra—you're closer to her nipples this way, can pinch them between your fingers easily—before you finally free them from their restraints. They're so much softer than Ryujin's—softer than anything you've ever felt. Your fingers knead the tender flesh of her chest, reveling in the way they fit perfectly in your palms, and the nubs are a stiff pink against her pale skin. "Oh god."
"I think she likes this," you say with a chuckle. "I'm going to make you feel so good." You push your cock between her thighs, rub it against her pussy, and savor the way she clamps her legs together. "Fuck, that's hot."
Karina whimpers, squirms underneath you, but you grip her hips to keep her still. As you slide from in and out of her thighs, Ryujin bends over, placing kisses on Karina's waist—then her mouth aims lower. Karina cries out as Ryujin begins to lick her pussy. You've never seen your girlfriend eat with this much gusto before, slurping and sucking at the other girl's juices like they're the tastiest dessert on earth. Without a doubt, Ryujin loves what she's doing.
"Oh god, oh fuck!" Karina does too.
You thrust through Karina's legs, and Ryujin sucks on your tip as it pokes out. Karina is falling apart at the seams, amidst the friction of your length, the ministration of Ryujin's mouth, and just from how guilty and great it all feels.
"Good, good girl," Ryujin says. "This is okay, right? You can still be a good girl."
"I... yes," Karina says breathily. "I'm, I'm a good girl."
You suck on Karina's neck, nibbling at her flesh as your cock grinds against her soaked slit, wet enough to make a mess of her thighs, of Ryujin's lips, of your dick. It could be so easy to just thrust your entire length inside her, until you're balls deep, and do your job. You can taste her nervousness. You can feel it in the way her body tenses, the way she grips the sheets with white knuckles.
"You want to cum so bad, don't you?"
Karina only replies to Ryujin with a whimper. Ryujin smiles as she runs her tongue along Karina's pussy again, then when she suctions hard on her clit, Karina cries out. "Since you're such a good girl..." Ryujin says. "You shouldn't cum. A good girl shouldn't cum... unless Oppa's cock is inside you."
Spreading Karina's legs, Ryujin takes control of your cock to suck and taste Karina's body fluids off of it. Karina can only watch with wide eyes as Ryujin cleans your shaft. She's in even more disbelief when Ryujin pushes her aside to give you a more earnest blowjob, stroking your dick hard with her free hand while she peppers your length with sloppy kisses, especially along the ridge. You can't hold back a barrage of expletives.
Lying next to you in awe, Karina has eyes like a deer in the headlights.
"Do you want something, Karina?" Ryujin asks.
"I want... want to cum."
"Tsk, tsk, didn't I already tell you? Good girls don't get to cum unless it's on Oppa's dick."
Karina's eyes dart between you and Ryujin. She swallows hard, then nods slowly. "Okay."
"Okay?" you ask, stunned at the sudden acquiescence.
"I, I can't take it anymore. I need to cum. Please, Oppa. Fuck me. I want to cum. I need it so bad. I'll do anything."
"Such a good girl," Ryujin says, her voice husky. She positions herself behind Karina, wrapping her arms around the girl's body and cupping her breasts. Karina is on her back, just as Ryujin had been before, but now she receives Ryujin's continual praise. "You're so beautiful. You're such a good girl. You deserve this."
You kneel before Karina and take in the sight of her lying there, looking up at you with wide eyes full of uncertainty. That was the same uncertainty as the first time you asked her out, years ago. The uncertainty when you tried the first time to get into her pants—she's never let you go very far past kissing. The same uncertainty when the two of you had to break up. That uncertainty when she learned you and Ryujin were dating. And now, as Ryujin deepens the kiss, your gaze locks with Karina's, and she's just as nervous and aroused as she's ever been. You push Karina's knees apart and run your fingers through her wet folds.
Karina watches as you line yourself up with her entrance, her chest heaving as she holds her breath in anticipation.
"Are you ready?" you ask, your voice low and husky. Your hand travels from her hip to her smooth, flat stomach. Then, you grab Ryujin's hand as it rests on Karina's soft and heavy chest, now exposed to the air and free to be touched, squeezed, and played with by all of you. You can't believe you're going to be doing this—your ex and your current girlfriend, all while you watch in awe. This is the life of the party, not the loud music, nor the rowdy crowds, nor the alcohol. This is real.
Karina looks at your cock, unable to believe the size of it, or unable to look you in the eye—Ryujin takes hold of your shaft and rubs it against Karina's pussy, and at the same time, grabs Karina's chin to force her to look into your eyes. "Answer him," she says.
"I'm ready," Karina murmurs.
"What? We couldn't hear you, babe," you say with a smirk. You press the tip of your cock against her entrance and push it inside an inch, making her gasp as you stretch her pussy.
"Oh my god" sounds perfect out of Karina's mouth, a sobbed, whiny, desperate moan of a blasphemer who needs to be redeemed in your arms, so different from the deep and throaty moans of Ryujin. It's so cute, just like Ryujin said. A cute virgin girl who's so caught up in this moment, in how your length fills her up like the most worthwhile sin. And as you disappear within Karina's folds, inch by inch, she stares up at you with a mixture of pain and pleasure, her body shaking with every new sensation.
"Say it," Ryujin says firmly.
Karina swallows hard and looks into your eyes. Her voice is barely above a whisper, "Please fuck me, Oppa."
That's enough for you, enough for Ryujin to rub her clit and pinch her nipple and suck on her neck; so the fact that you're a handful of strokes in and she's already cumming isn't unexpected, but her reaction is. She thrashes around under you as wave after wave of ecstasy hits her. It's all you can do to hold her steady, gripping her hips and burying yourself balls deep inside her. Such a powerful climax must've been made even more so by how you continue to pound into her. She's overwhelmed, overloaded—over the edge—with pleasure.
"Oh god, oh god," she chants, her body trembling. "Oh my god."
It's almost a pity Karina cums so easily, instead of having her work for it, like a good girl; but it's only the first round of the night, and she has all the time to learn how to earn an orgasm.
"Woah," Ryujin says, expression impressed as she watches Karina squirm. "She came fast."
Karina opens her eyes to meet your gaze. "I... I'm sorry."
"You're sorry? No, it's okay," Ryujin reassures her.
Karina nods slowly, tears welling up in her eyes.
You take advantage of how you're still buried within Karina's depths to reach down and kiss away one of her tears. Something inside you makes you think that isn't the reason why she's apologizing, but it's close enough for now. It doesn't matter. You're going to fuck the guilt out of Karina until she takes the lord's name only in vein as it molds her pussy. "You can worry about apologizing after you show us how long you can keep up with us," you say, smirking as you pull out of her slowly, until the head of your cock is the only part of your shaft that still fills her entrance.
Ryujin runs her hand through Karina's hair, wiping away her tears and looking into her eyes. "You're so sexy." Her voice is a seductive whisper. "You know that?" She reaches down and caresses Karina's cheek before pressing her lips against hers, kissing her deeply. "Do you know how long I've wanted this?"
Karina breaks eye contact, unable to hold Ryujin's intense stare. "I... I had no idea," she replies in a whisper.
You thrust into Karina again, burying your length inside her and drawing a cry of pleasure from the girl beneath you. You repeat this slow movement again and again and again—for every thrust, Ryujin kisses Karina on the lips, cheeks, neck, ear—while whispering praises into her ears, while making her feel like an angel sent from heaven while keeping her mind on her and you as you take her virginity. You can see how badly she wants to hold onto the last shreds of whatever holding her back, to resist Ryujin's advances, but the more you and Ryujin work in tandem to force these moans out of her throat, the less she holds onto.
Oh, you have plenty to hold onto. You could spend the rest of your life pontificating about Karina's tits, and it feels like the rest of your life because if you die right on the hills that you're sinking fingers into, massaging—even smacking to leave your mark and watch how they recoil—then you'd die the greatest man to have ever lived. And what else is there to be?
Where else is there to be but where you are now, to be in Karina's pussy, clenching and unclenching around your dick like your cock is a part of her body? (Might as well be.)
If this were a place, you can imagine the city.
By the trumpet cry, the walls have fallen—shit, if you had any shame, it'd be gone by the time Ryujin's mouth got to work; Karina is no greater than you as a mess of moans and sobs, murmurs, and curses as she lies there on her back with a smile on her face and a glint in her eyes while Ryujin moves between the two of you to capture either clit or cock in her mouth, exchanging between the two. Whenever you're focused on pistoning inside Karina's pussy, she's lapping away at whatever is exposed to the air. Whenever you pull out for a break or to change positions, Ryujin takes a few moments to tongue Karina's slit or to taste her juices off your cock. So how could there be resistance; how could there be any hesitation in Karina's body as she lies back, letting you take complete control of her body while Ryujin does as she pleases, a perfect storm of two dominant lovers ravaging this sweet, submissive flower who had been too long neglected.
Now, over embarrassment or guilt—Karina is a slut at heart. No, a bitch. A bitch who can't stop crying and moaning out your name because the two of you are putting in work to make her feel so fucking good. And she takes it, and she takes it, and she takes it. Would she have ever acted like this with anyone else? You don't think, even alone, you could ever turn Karina into such a sloppy, slutty mess. You can only guess that, paired with Ryujin, this is who she truly is.
This is why you and your co-conspirator are so compatible in this regard. You don't need to explain to Ryujin that you want to change positions, or that you're doing so because you need some reprieve; your eyes are enough for her to understand. She's already moving to help as you get Karina in an appropriate position, on all fours so that you can fuck her doggystyle from behind. Of course, it also happens that this lets Ryujin slide underneath Karina and eat her pussy out while your cock slides in and out of her entrance.
There is a hunger pang in Karina's gaze as she looks back. The poor woman drools, saliva dripping onto Ryujin's stomach. It's like she doesn't even notice because the way your cock slides into her so easily is too good, and she has to moan every time your balls slap against her thighs. The best thing about the sight of Karina like this—hair stuck to her face, makeup smeared across her cheeks, body covered in sweat—is the sheer bliss written across her features as she takes whatever pleasure the two of you offer.
Then you look down and see Ryujin's expression. It's not one of lust or desire or satisfaction, but one of amusement. She looks positively amused that you're giving everything to this girl, fucking her like you mean it, and she continues to be amused when Karina lowers her head into the bed, between Ryujin's thighs—Karina wants so badly to taste her girlfriend's pussy, but she doesn't know how, with no idea what to do or how to ask, and again, Ryujin just knows all this by the dumbfounded happy look on your face. To be fair, you're mainly in this unbridled glee at the sight of Karina face-down ass-up, and of Ryujin's face between Karina's legs—but it is true that you've got some sort of telepathy going on, because without a word you both reach a consensus in your minds.
"Don't you want to eat her pussy out?" you ask, tugging gently on Karina's hair so that she raises her head back up. A reprieve from getting fucked like crazy, while you lay your shaft flat on Ryujin's face. "I can smell how much she's been needing it."
"Your dick, dick, it's so... ah, hngh, put it back in, put it back in.!"
"Don't try to think about what Oppa's doing," Ryujin coos. "I'm right here." She wraps her arms around Karina's hips and pulls her closer, bringing her pussy closer to the other girl's lips, and you pull back to give them room. "Right here."
You're fine to sit back and enjoy the show while you watch Karina sixty-nine atop your girlfriend. Karina, still unsure what she's doing, stares down at Ryujin for a few long seconds before finally leaning in to give her an experimental lick. Then she closes her eyes and loses herself to the moment as she tastes Ryujin's essence for the first time.
"Good girl," Ryujin sighs as Karina's tongue enters her pussy. "Oppa is so jealous right now, he loves eating pussy. But your tight virgin hole was too good for me to pass up. If you don't know what to do, just follow what I'm doing."
The sight of Ryujin with her lips pressed against Karina's mound while Karina's head bobs up and down between Ryujin's legs makes you incredibly hard, but since you were already as hard as a diamond from fucking Karina so much, you're not sure what lab is going to need your dick, but there must be one doing incredibly important science that will save humanity that could use you for a research study. Karina has never done this before, because you hear her complain about her jaw and how it hurts, but she is so fucking cute.
You can hear her moans as Ryujin's mouth works its magic on Karina's folds, and the way Ryujin rolls her hips against Karina's face says plenty about how she's feeling too. You can understand: even the most amateur mouth is enough when you're getting worked so enthusiastically over. It's just a fact of life.
Maybe you do know guilt, even if you don't feel it, understand it as one might a distant cousin or a person you elected, but never met personally; it doesn't stop you from interjecting into the action with your cock sliding into the space between them: Karina's tender pussy lips and Ryujin's greedy mouth becomes the two cushion that you are sandwiched in-between. The sensation of being between them, the juices that drip onto your length, the saliva that moistens it, the moans that surround it, it is like nothing you've felt before. You're no stranger to having your shaft between two pairs of lips; whenever Ryujin invites one of her many friends to a threesome, there will usually be some oral exchange or another between whoever is getting railed by you and your girlfriend, but this is so different. This is so much more intimate. You look down and see Karina looking back and up at you.
Karina's eyes widen as you thrust your cock between her folds. "Ah... ahh, what?" She turns her head and stares at you with wild eyes, her expression full of surprise and confusion. "What... what are you doing?" She's asking, but she's also grinding back against you, making it clear that she enjoys the feeling of your length sliding along her folds.
"Mmm," Ryujin murmurs against Karina's mound. Her lips press against your cock and she smiles before letting out a soft moan, sucking the tip of your shaft. "This is so hot."
Karina gasps as Ryujin sucks on your cock, taking it into her mouth and licking your length with her tongue. She keeps grinding back against you—too late for her, your dick is down your girlfriend's throat—and thus in her depravity, Karina rubs her pussy against Ryujin's neck where it bulges with every push forward. Your girlfriend is throating you while she gets her pussy eaten out by a woman who should be innocent of such acts of debauchery—yet, one night is all it took for Karina to realize how wrong she's been. There's no use praying away the gay (praying bye to the bi, by the by), not when there's sin in its place. But in truth, this is not one night but the culmination of so much pent-up tension and need. So much waiting around. So much taking care of and consoling, and it's not that you were doing these on purpose, but if you had one unspoken truth between you and Ryujin—
It's that she and any man or any woman, other than you and Ryujin, had no chance of working out by your hands, by hers—but here, tonight, all of those months of patience have paid off for you and your lover. It doesn't matter if Karina didn't want to do this, didn't expect to do this; this was always meant to be her fate like missionaries planting the seeds of their religion into the soil of native lands.
You're anxious you might plant your seed in a place already well-tilled by yourself: Ryujin's stomach. It is not long before both of them start cumming like crazy, and all you can do is keep pounding your cock against your girlfriend's throat—as much as you told yourself you would hold back—while Karina squeals against her pussy, your shaft getting coated in saliva and pussy juice as the two of them orgasm together. You suppose that Karina's oral skills were only sufficient in making Ryujin cum because of the way your cock deprived your girlfriend of air—the orgasms whenever you choke Ryujin are always so intense; you're certain you'd find the same results if Karina's mouth wasn't being put to other uses.
Ryujin finally pulls away, gasping for air as you release her hair. Your cock slides out of her mouth and you slap it across her face a few times before turning your attention back to Karina. She looks back at you with a dazed expression, her body trembling from her climax. You grab her hips and thrust your cock into her tight pussy, making her cry out as you fill her to her wit's end.
"I'm sorry," she says, looking back at you with tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hold it back anymore."
Ryujin laughs as she kisses Karina passionately and tastes herself on the other girl's lips. "Don't apologize, baby girl," she says between kisses. "It's okay." She puts her hand on Karina's chest and massages her tits gently as she continues to kiss her. Ryujin turns to look at you, her hand on Karina's cheek.
This is that lie-down and get-ready-to-be-ridden position, and your blood has been boiling all night, ready to be unleashed. Karina and Ryujin both have the kind of ass that makes you want to spank it red until they cry and beg you to stop, but tonight's not about that. Tonight, as Ryujin slides onto your lap, taking your cock inside her with ease, you know there's no stopping either of them.
Normally, you would be saddened by the fact you can't see your girlfriend's face, but it's a fair trade-off, if only for the smacking sounds of Karina and Ryujin's kisses. And then, there's the way that Karina leaves a trail of girl-cum along your abs, as she first takes whatever friction she can find between your abdomen and her cunt, grinding along your stomach; after that, however, she's set on making your face her personal seat, which is fine by you. This is the throne of a god, not one to sit on and rule and dictate and limit, but one to be as, to transform into, to understand and connect with the people who pray for your attention—and Karina wants nothing more than that connection right now.
"I'm sorry I didn't do better," she says between kisses, holding your face in her hands. "I'm sorry I came so fast. I'm sorry we didn't do this sooner. I'm sorry with being with..." She chokes back a sob before continuing. "I'm sorry."
You've never needed an apology, and less so right now: your girlfriend is currently riding your cock like it's going out of style, and Karina manages to say all that without looking at your face—how can she? You can't even laugh at the irony, your every breath dedicated to what oxygen you can get before diving back into the wet heat of her pussy.
"Do you want to be a good girl?" Ryujin asks breathlessly as she bounces up and down on your shaft, her ass slapping against your thighs.
"I want to be a good girl," Karina murmurs as she grinds her pussy against your mouth.
Ryujin grabs Karina's ass and squeezes it tightly. "Stop saying you're sorry," she says between gasps.
Karina looks down at you and bites her lip. "I... I don't know how."
Ryujin pauses her ride, leaning forward and running her hands along Karina's body. "Well, you can beg to ride this beautiful, fffugh, dick..." Her hands move down to your stomach, and she starts grinding back and forth against your cock. "I love it." She turns and smiles at Karina, "He loves it when a girl rides him, and he loves it when I ride him the most. You know how many girls get to ride Oppa? But I'm the best at it."
You understand this angle. If there's one sin Karina might admit to, it's jealousy. She was always a bit competitive with you—nothing too malicious, just a need to be the best; and you're fine to indulge her. You grab Karina's ass and slap it gently, then squeeze her cheeks and spread them apart. "She's right, you know," you say, your voice low and husky.
Ryujin chuckles, shaking her head. "Of course I am," she says with a smirk, turning to look back at you.
You play with Karina's ass for a few moments before grabbing her hips and pulling her closer, bringing your face back to her mound. You press your lips against her pussy and kiss her tenderly. Your tongue slips between her folds and you lick her slowly. She tastes so sweet.
"Oh god..." Karina gasps, gripping your hair tightly as you lick her pussy. "I have to ride it. It looks, so, so good."
"You have to?" Ryujin asks in a mocking tone. "Oh, so now you're getting bold?"
"I want it," Karina whines. "Please?"
"You'll stop apologizing?" Ryujin asks as she moves off your lap, your cock still slick with her juices.
Karina nods, unable to look away from your length. She crawls up to your lap and elects to ride you reverse cowgirl, but only after Ryujin guides her in with a hand on the small of Karina's back. You don't mind either way—you're glad for this angle, for the underrated sight of Karina's back or her ass. You could trace the bumps of her spine or the dips in her waist. Though the position is naturally no novelty, this woman and all her impossibly perfect curves are, even if only for this night. Her ass is perfect; she has a perfect figure; and you love every inch of her skin, from her smooth shoulders to her soft thighs to her slender legs. Ryujin was right—you do love watching girls ride your cock, especially when they're new to it, when they haven't learned this choreography yet.
Karina has no trouble getting into the rhythm as she works you over like she was born to ride dick. Ryujin is there to support Karina through the process, running her hands along the other girl's body and kissing her passionately as she bounces up and down on your cock. Karina turns to look at you, brows creased, mouth wide open, lips wet with saliva. She can't stop moaning as your cock stretches her tight pussy. It's so adorable the way she tries to be quiet and ends up squealing instead. Her eyes roll back as Ryujin bites her neck and grinds against her body.
"Goddamn, girl," Ryujin whispers breathlessly. "You're so fucking sexy. Maybe you deserve his cum after all."
"Hngh, thank you," Karina says.
Ryujin laughs and grabs Karina's hair to move it out of the way before leaning in to suck on her neck. You can imagine what a mess it's making on her face, especially as sweat drips down her temples. The thing about Karina is that she might be a sloppy mess, but she's still just as pretty as ever, even if that prettiness is marred by the sweat that mats her hair, and the way she looks completely blissed out—even more so than earlier—with her eyes rolled back and her lips parted.
You thrust up into Karina's pussy, making her cry out. Your hands move to her hips and you lift her body up and down along your shaft. She looks at you with tears streaming down her cheeks and smiles.
"Yeah? Thank me?" Ryujin asks. You feel her weigh down against your thigh as she straddles you from the side, sits atop it, grinds back and forth while she reaches behind Karina to fondle your balls.
"Please," Karina begs in a soft voice, looking at you with wide eyes. "Please give me your cum."
You've had your climax postponed for a while, with the break from fucking Karina and the time Ryujin has taken to warm you back up. You're not sure how you'll be able to hold out any longer. Then Ryujin gives a glance. "Cum," she mouths.
That's all you need really. Karina twerks on your cock, forgetting everything she's learned, repeating profanity. All you need. An asscheek to spank and spank, or a breast to squeeze and squeeze until you can see the red handprint on her body, to feel that weight in your palm. A loving and supporting girlfriend to help you out with some verbal encouragement. All you need, and if you asked for anything more from up above, they'd answer like you just knocked the gates of heaven at 3:21 AM, and there's good Saint Peter asking:
"Well, now what? Oh, you want more?"
✦✧✦✧✦✧
AFF, AO3
Another sane Levi fic as always.
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No one else but you
Pairing: Captain John Price x Reader
Summary: You and Price broke up months ago after a bad fight and you're still reeling from it. You're utterly heartbroken, but with the less that great wisdom of your friends, you decided to try and jump into another relationship to solve the hurt - one that was bad from the beginning. Will Price showing back up in your life get you out of it? Or will you be left with no one at all.
(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)
Warning: Angst with a happy ending, fluff, cheating boyfriend (not price), Smut (no mention of reader genitals), soft dom!Price, nickname Daddy used, pinning down, dirty talk, praise
-💘-
Realistically you knew that you’d see John Price again one day, you just hated that it had to be that day. That day that you were on a date with your new boyfriend. The day after you’d just made things official. Pretty much right after you'd just gotten on at said boyfriend for distracting himself with his phone the whole time. Now you were the one that was distracted.
You and Reid hadn’t been dating long, just barely a month and half. You’d asked the night before about where he saw things going and then somewhere along the way in that conversation he asked if you brought it up because you wanted him to be your boyfriend. Then you supposed that’s why you did ask, and said yes, and he’d agreed to it.
Of course you’d felt kind of happy about it at the time, but now - after locking eyes with your ex, who offered you a crinkly eyed smile before turning to the barista - you felt like there was a pit in your stomach. It was as if your belly was made of lead. Had you made the right decision?
“Hello, are you listening to me?” Reid laughed, waving his hand in front of your face. “Weekend plans. Next weekend. Selena’s cabin. Need a yes or a no. She’s messaging me about it and you were the one that just ranted to me about how I wasn’t paying attention to you.”
“Hmm? Sorry, what?” you asked, resuming eye contact with your boyfriend. “Where’s the cabin again? Who’s Selena?”
It was so unfair, you thought to yourself. Why was Price here now? You’d figured after being deployed he’d be away for a long time, but slowly you came to realise that it had been ages since you’d seen him. 3 months in fact.
And now he was there in the cafe, standing in line for a tea you presumed, looking as handsome as ever. His beard had been allowed to grow, he’d probably not had time to trim it, it was longer and even in length. His eyes looked weary and his hair was messy, probably from running his hands through it too much, you thought, and you bit your lip as you noticed he was wearing that shirt you liked. The worn green linen button up, with a pristine white T-shirt underneath of course.
“Do you know that man or something?”
You jumped when Reid pulled you out of your daze yet again, and suddenly all the bluebirds and butterflies were out of your field of vision. You’re opened up to the reality of the coffee shop, all the whirring and buzzing machines and emphatic chatter of all the tables around you. It was as if a spell had been broken.
You gulped awkwardly and shrugged, rubbing the back of your neck.
“Sorry, yeah…that’s my ex,” you explain with a sigh.
Even then, even while you were with someone else, you still hurt over the way things had been left. That should’ve been a bad sign, one that meant you weren’t supposed to be moving on so soon, but whenever you talked to anyone about it they just said you needed to move on and ‘shag it out your system’ - whatever that meant. John didn’t feel like the kind of man that anyone could just forget about, even when it was you that broke things off in the first place.
“Wait, the soldier guy? The one that you said beat a guy up outside that bar?” Reid marvelled, fastening his eyes to Price’s place in the queue.
“Yeah, him,” you murmured, forgetting that you’d told him about that.
“He doesn’t look like I thought he would,” Reid snorted, watching him wait for his drink. “He’s like an old guy, looks pretty harmless to me.”
You held back the protest that had come to the tip of your tongue like a hot pepper. It wouldn’t do to tell your new man that he’d get flattened by the captain if he got on his bad side - that would be asking for an argument. Instead you bit your lip and watched as Price made his way toward you both, takeaway cup in hand. You were begging whatever deity might be watching over that he wouldn’t linger long.
Though by the looks of things, he’d had a hard time trying to forget about you too. There was something in his eyes, something like relief, that made you feel he was glad to have bumped into you.
He eventually came to a stop next to your table, standing close to your side. You could smell the piney aroma of his aftershave as it rolled off of him - sprayed on to help cover the lingering scent of cigar smoke. It combined with the smell of bitter coffee and sweet cakes and left you dazedly staring at him.
“Hello, there,” he said simply
You gulped, instantly feeling your mouth go dry. What were you supposed to say back? Hello, how are you? No, you had so many other things rushing through your mind you didn’t think to respond with something normal.
Did you think about me while you were away? Did you miss me? Did you finally realise you were wrong to hurt that man so badly just because he’d pushed up against me and called me names when he thought he was supposed to get served at the bar before me? Do you think things could’ve been different afterwards? Could we have talked more and worked it out? I missed you so much, please take me away from here.
“Um…hi,” you said sheepishly, offering him a small smile. “How’ve you been? Did you just get back from deployment?”
“Yeah, just got back on wednesday there. You know how it is when I’m away. Spend the whole time worrying about everyone till we’re back home safe, don’t I?”
He’d tilted his head at you meaningfully, letting you know that he wasn’t just talking about his men. So, you thought, you struggled just as much as me.
“What about you, how’ve you been? And who’s your friend?” he asked, turning his attention toward Reid.
Price narrowed his gaze on your boyfriend and offered his hand, shoulders rolling as he did so. You didn’t miss the way he’d said friend. Apparently Reid didn’t either. Reid took Price’s hand all too willingly and firmly shook it, making eye contact so direct you wondered if he was trying to shoot lasers out of his eyes.
“Yeah, good,” you responded, watching as their handshake carried on a little too long. “This is Reid.”
“The boyfriend,” Reid added, finally snatching his hand back.
Price raised his brows and glanced at you. You could swear that you’d noticed his jaw tick, but nevertheless he smiled and patted your shoulder, his hand warm on you, even through your thick jumper.
“John Price - the ex,” he said to Reid, before turning back to you.“Good to know you’ve had someone looking after ya.”
his lips were quirking as if he’d had to force the words out.
“He uh- has been yes,” you said appeasingly, side-eyeing Reid as he frowned at you. “Someone’s got to!”
You’d laughed awkwardly, tittering away while hoping the interaction would end. Though there was no chance of Price going that easy. He stayed and nodded his head slowly, his eyes narrowing on you as he seemed to lose himself in his thoughts. Was he thinking of all the times that he’d been the one to look after you?
“Did you get yourself a tea then?” you asked, trying to end the awkward silence and - hopefully - send him on his way, you could ask him to go drink it in peace.
He looked down at it as if he’d forgotten the scalding cup in his hand and back at you, raising the cup just slightly.
“Know me well, love, don’t you?”
Your body all but seized as he resurrected one of his old pet names. You used to preen when he called you love. Now you were choking on your spit - actually genuinely choking.
You wheezed and gasped, quickly taking a drink of your latte to try and ease collapse of your windpipe. It might have settled if not for the fact that he started rubbing your back. That only made the problem worse. You struggled to take in the closeness of him, the warmth, how firm his hand was as he settled it over your spine.
You brushed past him and got up, offering both him and Reid an apologetic smile.
“Don’t know what’s…come over me,” you gasped, trying to find enough air to talk. “I’m just going to go to the toilet quickly!”
And before another word could be said, you rushed off to try and find some peace, desperately trying to avoid all the hustling bustling people around you. This was not good.
-💘-
While you were away, Reid and Price both stared each other down. Left to their own devices they could both drop any pretence they’d kept up while you were around, not that Reid was making much of an effort to try and appear friendly. Though now he was openly glaring at Price, letting him know that he wasn’t welcome. Trying valiantly to scare him away.
Price, meanwhile, was casting a wary eye over this new boyfriend, looking him up and down and not missing the woman’s name on his phone screen. He wasn’t the type of man to deny that men and women could be friends, but something about the way Reid had been messaging whoever it was so intently, rubbed him the wrong way. He looked from the screen and back to Reid, causing the other man to scowl.
“What was that?” Reid all but growled.
“What was what?” Price asked, raising a brow.
“Calling them love and rubbing their back like that! You said it yourself - you’re the ex. Act like it and back off!”
“Ex or not, I want you to know something. I might not be in the picture right now, but I’ll tell you this - you hurt them…and I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”
Reid frowned, about to laugh off his threat when Price gave his rival the same look that he’d used in interrogations- the one that showed that he wasn’t above getting dirty if the situation called for it. It was then that Reid recalled what you’d told him about the fight, about how Price had almost permanently maimed the guy, he had remembered you saying that the man had had his jaw wired shut just to recover from what Price had done to him.
Reid didn’t visibly back down, but he didn’t retort back either. He pursed his lips instead and watched as you bounced back to the table in the background, relieved that you’d recovered sooner rather than later.
-💘-
“Everything ok?” you chirped, sitting back down in your chair.
“Yeah, course,” Price smiled, his eyes turning to those familiar crescent moons that you adored. “What about you? Survived, have you?”
You played with your hands and laughed awkwardly, remembering to swallow before you choked again.
“Yeah, still kicking somehow.”
“Well that’s good to hear. Listen, its been lovely to see you, but I’ll let you two get back to it, I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome. Just so you know though, if you ever need anything,” Price said, his blue eyes melting into honey, “just give me a ring.”
With that, he winked at you and left, not waiting for your response.
You huffed out a breath, only just realising that it had felt like your lungs had been fit to burst pretty much that entire time and looked over at Reid. He looked like he was going to combust. All the light that had been on his face earlier in the day had died and he looked sulkily down at his phone, angrily tapping a message into it.
“Oh my god, Reid, I’m so sorry about that,” you sighed, closing your eyes as you finally realised what had just happened. “He can be really intense, and I didn’t realise he was going to come barging up to us like that! Anyway,why don’t we get things back on track, what were you saying about going away to a cabin?”
It was Reid’s turn again to blank you now. He continued to type a message to whoever he was talking to and left you in silence, listening to his thumb angrily jamming down on the glass. You tried again and he still didn’t respond, and soon it began to feel like every tap on the screen was a hammer in the nail of your coffin.
-💘-
You had thought you’d resolved that argument that night.
You had spent the whole rest of the outing shuttered out from any conversation with him, only to spend hours when you’d gotten home locked in a bitter fight. He’d said you could’ve backed him up a bit more and made him look less like a fool, and you’d agreed and tried to tell him that you were so overwhelmed you weren’t sure how to react, though you knew you could’ve tried to have handled it better. You just weren’t sure what you would’ve been able to do differently.
There had been some back and fourth for a while, but eventually it was settled when you’d said you’d block him and delete him off of everything and that was the end of that. Or so you had so naively believed.
You’d gone along to the cabin on the Friday of the following weekend and soon it was revealed to you that that hadn’t been the end of things at all.
Everything had started off fine, it had been nice even. You’d all gotten camping chairs and had sat round a big fire drinking and getting to know all of Reid’s friends and were enjoying yourself immensely. However as the night wore on and Reid had gotten drunker and drunker - Price had eventually come up. That’s when everything did a complete 180.
Someone, for some godforsaken reason, had brought up awkward ex stories and Reid jumped at the chance to tell everyone about the coffee shop encounter. He spared no detail in making Price sound like a disgusting lecherous old man, and laughed as he told everyone about how he’d been threatened. A detail he’d forgotten to tell you when you’d had your discussion.
“You didn’t tell me about that,” you’d protested weakly, putting your hand on his thigh. “You should’ve said something. That’s not right that he threatened you.”
He shook his leg from your grip and laughed bitterly, taking another swig of his vodka. Suddenly the taste of the spirit was acrid in your throat and the smoke from the fire was stifling you. The evening was going downhill fast.
You turned around and took a glance at his friends, they were all laughing about it, apparently finding it hilarious that an old man had threatened Reid. Everyone was in hysterics apart from one of the girls, the girl who’s cabin it was. She didn’t appear to be hearing any new information, she was just smiling like a cheshire cat and opening another cocktail can.
“Didn’t take it seriously then, did I?” Reid shrugged, looking around at all the laughing faces with glee. “What’s he gonna do? Knock me over with his walking stick? That guy was like a hundred years old.”
You wanted to say that it was funny he didn’t say that to Price’s face, but immediately thought better of it. Instead you just tried to laugh it off and hope the subject changed, but ultimately it didn’t. Instead you became the group target when one of his friends had sniggered and asked if Reid wasn’t too young for you. Must be hard keeping up with someone your own age instead of someone that falls asleep when you get on top, and apparently it was the funniest jokes in the world to everyone but you.
For the whole rest of the trip his friends had kept bringing up your supposed penchant for gross old men and had kept the joke going. They brought up pictures of old actors and asked if you’d ‘smash them’ and when one of the men from a neighbouring cabin had walked by, of course an older man walking his even older doddering greyhound, they’d told Reid to hold you back before you ran off with him.
It wasn’t fair, you’d thought. Price wasn’t actually that much older than you. Sure, there was a little bit of an age gap, the lines on his face were a little deeper than other people his age and there was a bit of grey creeping into his hair, but he spent most of his time fighting and commanding big groups of soldiers. It would age anyone quickly!
However, as if that wasn’t humiliating enough, Selena (Cabin owner and supposedly happily committed friend of Reid’s) had come up to Reid on the second night while you were supposed to go away to get something to drink. Somehow, between you going away and hastily coming back to ask what he wanted instead of the drink you were out of, she’d wandered onto his lap. You stood by the patio door, no longer noticing the chill in the air and instead honed in on the fact that she was stroking a hand through his hair and murmuring to him softly and sickly sweet.
“I like your hair like this,” she’d said, her voice sultry and low. “Why’d you never style it like this when we were together.”
“Oh yeah?” Reid responded, gripping her hand in his. “I guess I hadn’t figured out how to do it yet.”
You bit your lip, not feeling like you could say anything yet, knowing that you’d only be made to look like a jealous hypocrite if you protested at an ex getting a little too close. They hadn’t actually done anything yet, you told yourself, they were just sitting together on the old deck chair. He looked like he was about to take her hand off of his head. She was barely even touching him to start with really!
Until she was.
She leaned in and sloppily kissed him, her drunken body swaying as she fought to keep her balance on top of his wobbly legs. Bile rose in your throat as you watched them together and suddenly the entire weight of the weekend was upon you. The jeering of his friends, Reid refusing to stop them making fun of you and telling you to grow up, and finally watching them both locked in a kiss that Reid was in no way trying to get away from.
You blubbered out a pathetic cry and ran to your room, grabbing your things in a blind panic and barely checking that you had everything, only really worrying about your car keys. You ensured that you had them clasped tightly in your hands, stabbing yourself with the rigid metal, and rushed to your car. You hastily threw your bag into the back and slammed the door loudly. You’d gone to open the drivers door when Reid came bounding up behind you, shouting after you and having the audacity to look angry.
You watched him rush over in a panic, and leapt into the car seat, making extra sure to lock the door as you got in. You’d done it just in time too. Just as the click of the lock had sounded, Reid angrily pounded on the window and screamed at you, telling you not to overreact and get out the car.
“I’m not overreacting, I’m going home!”
“You can’t drive, you’ve been drinking,” he growled.
“I’ve been drinking lime sodas,” you screamed back, turning the engine over as you angrily jerked the keys. “And I saw you kiss her back! If you think I’m gonna let that go then you’re dead wrong! This is over.”
“Oh, come on! I didn’t do that, you’re making things up. Just come out the car and talk to me for a minute!”
You glared at him and put your foot on the clutch, revving the car as you waited for him to get out of your way. He stood resolute and threw his arms in the sky, looking ready to rip you out of the car with his bare hands.
“If your stupid army man came over and did the same you’d probably kiss him back too!”
That did it.
You reversed the car in a flash and turned round, uncaring if you bashed into anything. As long as you didn’t run over Reid (as much as you kind of wanted to), you were happy to do anything just to get out of the drive. You turned the car successfully, even managing to leave dent free and barrelled your way down the road. Wiping furiously at your tears so that you could see your way down the unlit country roads.
-💘-
When you finally got back to your town, you weren’t able to go home right away. You didn’t have the strength to drive on. You’d been hounded with text messages and calls and the sounds of vibrations and sight of angry words had put you too on edge. You couldn’t go on.
Instead, you’d stopped in the Tesco Extra car park and rammed on your break, sitting in a relatively abandoned section near the back. You hastily turned off your phone and threw it in the back seat before draping your arms over the steering wheel, then crying into them like something out of a cheesy movie.
It wasn’t fair.
You’d just wanted to have a nice weekend away and instead you’d spent the entire time being the butt of a dumb joke and had been cheated on to boot. It felt like nothing in your life could go right.
Every one of your friends had encouraged you to get with Reid, had told you things would be much better with someone that would actually be home and not off in some random country video calling you from miles away; and at that moment you wanted to facetime each and everyone one of them and show them exactly where that advice had gotten you.
Look at my big ugly crying face and feel awful, you stupid idiots!
Even when you were mid breakdown in your car you still knew that that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t their faults he was a cheat. Instead you just kept weeping quietly to yourself and letting the hot tears roll down your face like acid, stinging at your irritated skin. It felt good to get it all out and soon you were running out of anything to cry with anyway.Your big snuffly sobs were turning into quiet breaths and eventually no sound left you as you stared ahead into nothing, the neon shop lights blurring in the corners of your eyes.
Your calm didn’t last for long though. A knock came at your window and you jumped out of your skin, bolting upright and looking at the glass with panic. At first you thought Reid had somehow found a way to follow you home, but it turned out to be worse than you’d first assumed. It wasn’t your now ex, it was the ex before him - Price.
You took a moment to catch your breath and furiously rubbed at your eyes, hoping that he hadn’t noticed what you’d been doing all hunched over in the dark. However, your motions had completely betrayed you and before you could think to roll down your window, he was coming over to the passenger side of the car and tapping on the glass again and motioning to the lock.
He wanted to get in. For crying out loud, what was this day?
You groaned, but knew there was no use denying him and weakly pulled up the lock, wincing as he wrenched open the old door and shut it with a bang.
“What happened? Are you ok?” He asked, gripping your arm with a reassuring squeeze. “Are you hurt?”
He looked ready to follow through with his supposed murder threat when he’d asked the last question. You swallowed thickly and scanned his face, noticing that he looked less tired than when you’d last seen him, he was more focused as he glared.
He had shaved the mutton chops back into his beard, but he was still wearing the old green shirt that you loved, it looked like it had been washed many times since you’d seen it. It was fraying even more than it had been.
“No, I’m ok,” you finally responded, your voice going croaky. “I just- I just had a bad weekend is all. I’d rather not talk about it. I’ll be fine once I get myself home and then I can sort myself out from there.”
“You’re in no state to get yourself home, not like this,” Price admonished, easily sliding his palm against your face. It felt cool to the touch, it soothed your burning cheek. “Did you come here to get something? Do you want me to go in for you while you wait here? Then we can figure out how to get you home.”
He made sure you were making eye contact, he was speaking in that low familiar tone he used to use with you. The one that used to send your heart sparkling like a firework fuse ready to blow. You could already feel the beginnings of a sparkler fire, there was something fizzling away and making your heartbeat flutter and skip.
“No! No, I didn’t come to get anything, I just needed to stop for a minute. You don’t have to do any of that, honestly I’d feel awful for you if you had to go trailing after me,” you laughed, trying to brush off how heartbroken you were. “Please John, don’t put yourself out all for-”
“Nonsense. Wait here and I’ll be back in a second.”
“John!” you protested, watching as he slid out of the car.
“I mean it,” he said sternly, giving you a serious look. “You move from this spot and I’ll be cross, love. Sit tight.”
There was no arguing with him. It was as if he’d tapped into some deep seeded programming and reactivated it as if he’d never left. Ill be cross love. The last thing you wanted to do was disappoint him.
You relaxed back in your chair and watched curiously, still rubbing your eyes of the drying salt, tracking Price as he ran over a little ways to his car and brought a bag out of it. He surveyed the car park, visibility peering around, watching for any cars that might cross his path and came back to you before very long. Efficient as always.
He drew to a stop in front of the driver's side and opened the door, beckoning you out. You frowned and crossed your arms, ready to put up a fight at him wanting to drive your car. For one thing, he hated driving it and would always come off the clutch too hard - a problem you weren’t even sure why you were worrying about at a time like that - and for another you weren’t sure you were in the right state to let him be your caretaker at that moment. You were so vulnerable and you didn’t want to hurt yourself further by being around the one man that held the key to making or breaking you.
“Are you really going to fight me on this?” He asked, tilting his head down at you.
His forehead creased and he stared at you intently, willing you out with whatever mind powers he seemed to possess. That’s how it felt like with him sometimes. He had such a knack for getting what he wanted out of you, and to be truthful it was often better that way. He knew best.
Apart from when he started that fight.
You shivered and shook the thought from your mind, taking one last look at his unbudging frame. It was useless arguing with him. He was right anyway. You were in no state to get yourself home, you were bleary eyed and weak, you’d probably end up running a red light and ramming into another car knowing your luck. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, you thought darkly, you could only take so much more.
However, you soon gave in. You went to unbuckle your seatbelt and finally realised in all your upset you hadn’t even done it up in the first place, so you awkwardly drew your hand back, looking up to see Price’s ‘I told you you weren’t fit to drive’ look. Your face flushed then and it felt like you’d touched the sun.
You recovered eventually, then sighed and stood out from the seat, winding your way round to the passenger side and settling in. He joined you in the car after that, sitting in your driver's seat and rattling the car with his extra weight. From there he settled his shopping bag on his lap and pulled out a can of coke from its box and handed it to you.
From the small peak you’d gotten he had clearly meant for the juice to be a mixer for whatever crappy whiskey he’d gotten for himself, but there was little chance of him giving you any of that while you were in the state you were in. He had a rule about you drinking when you were upset. He was already shoving the bag in the back of the car by the time you’d even amusedly thought about asking about it.
“There. You sit there a moment and drink that and I’ll get you home.”
“You don’t have to give me your shopping, John. You’re going out of your way enough as it is. You’re already leaving your car behind!” You said, motioning to his old Honda. “How will you get home after? You’re putting yourself out too much!”
“It’s just a can of juice, love. I reckon I’ll be good for it,” he snorted, finally starting up the car again. “And don’t you worry about me. Just focus on calming down and feeling better.”
It was comical watching him get used to your car again, almost enough to make you forget about the hell you’d driven away from. Price swore under his breath and grumbled as he worked his foot against the ‘stupid overly high clutch’ and ‘stiff bloody gearshift’, but he managed to get it out of the car park. Soon you were leaving the blurry red and blue lights of the shop in the distance.
You said nothing for the duration of the drive. Instead you sat obediently and drank your coke, barely thinking of anything at all as the familiar sights of the city passed you by. The McDonald’s drive through, the old ratty furniture and charity shops that littered the streets before your own, and of course the pet store you always liked to visit. The one that Price always used to suck a breath in at (he always worried you’d come home with something one day).
Meanwhile the coke bubbles fizzed and washed over your tongue, tickling at your dry throat. Admittedly it did help you to feel a little better as time went on. That with the added distraction of watching Price focusing intently on not stalling your car almost let you forget all about the shitty couple of days you’d just endured.
Finally you rolled to a stop in a parking spot just a few steps away from your doorway and the rumbling growls of your car died. The fuzz of the silence burned at your ears and eventually it was too much, you clicked your tongue and turned to Price awkwardly offering him a half smile. You were about to brush him off with a thank you, but you were beaten to breaking the quiet streak before you could even open your mouth.
“Are you going to tell me what he did?” He asked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
You pursed your lips and played with the empty can in your hands, causing the aluminium to squeal as you squeezed it. You didn’t want to get into it all with him. You weren’t convinced you could make it through the story without crying again, and the last thing you needed was to go blubbering into his arms when you were trying to maintain some distance. Afterall, you reasoned that it was hardly his job to pick you up from an Ill advised rebound relationship. Plus he was the very reason you’d jumped into it in the first place.
“Who said Reid did anything?” You murmured, digging your nails into the white logo of the can.
“Captain’s intuition,” Price murmured, turning fully to you now. “You can tell me, You know. I don’t want you holding yourself up in that flat and crying alone for the rest of the night. It’d play on mind and neither of us would get any rest.”
“Don’t do that,” you moaned.
“Don’t do what?”
“Make me feel guilty for wanting to sort myself out.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, I want you to feel better. And I know you won’t help yourself if I leave you alone right now.”
“I’m not a child,” you huffed, feeling your heart beginning to ache all over. “I can look after myself.”
Your chest was feeling heavy and all of a sudden you were overcome by dread. It felt like he was trying to reprise his old role again, but that’s not something he could just step right into. He couldn’t just pick up where he’d left off, you reasoned, there was hurt there and so many things left unsaid. If things went wrong he could leave you even more broken than you’d ever been before. You pictured yourself shattered like a china cup that had been dropped too many times.
“You can look after yourself, can you?” Price asked, raising his brows. “Tell me right now that you’ll go and get yourself to bed and not end up worrying all night and having a panic attack at work tomorrow, and I’ll go. Tell me how you’re going to look after yourself and I’ll leave you to it, go on.”
You withered under his gaze and folded your arms in on yourself, trying to apply pressure over your shaking torso. He was right of course. You’d envisioned in your head even before the car had stopped, shutting the door, shutting out the world and feeling the weight of it all avalanche over you. He knew you too well to think you’d take any other course of action, right down to the fact that you weren’t going to take any time off work. Which would ultimately lead to you crying in the bathroom like a schoolgirl.
“John,” you whispered, “you can’t- we can’t-“
“This isn’t about us. It’s about you, and you needing someone to be there for you. Plain and simple. I’m not trying to invade my way into your life, I just don’t want you to spend all night torturing yourself over whatever happened…just let me help you. That’s all I’m asking… It’s all I want.”
He spoke so calmly and so softly you couldn't help but melt against his will. He was making too much sense. You didn’t really have the energy to argue either, so you just nodded and got out of the car, trying desperately not to start crying again. The thought of Price still caring so much about you was pulling you under into another tidal wave of upset, and you were fighting against the rough surf just to try and make it to your door.
Price led the way, bulleting up the steps just the way he always used to. He still had your keys,so he unlocked the door and held it open while he put his hand on the small of your back, gently ushering you through. You could feel the thin glue that was holding you together being peeled away. His reassuring smile and his steady presence were making it harder and harder to hold your face as it was.
You could feel your lips go wobbly and your eyes welling up again and before you knew it you were throwing yourself into his arms and sobbing into them, rattling against him with your accompanying shaky hiccups. You weren’t even sure what you were crying about now.
Sure, you were still upset about the weekend you’d just endured, but now you were also thinking about Price and all that you’d lost when you told him you didn’t want to see him anymore. You’d told him that that fight had ruined what you’d built, and had destroyed your trust and now more than ever you knew that that wasn’t true.
It felt like John was the only person you could trust. He knew exactly what you needed and seemed to be there for you at all the right times, he looked after you and loved you and would do anything just to make you happy. He had been adamant at the time that he was justified for that fight, had worried you that it would happen again and you’d be put through the terrifying ordeal once more, but now you wondered if that had changed. If he’d realised what he’d done wrong, just as you had.
You shouldn’t have walked away. He shouldn’t have stood his ground.
You sniffled and tightened your grip on him, threading your fingers through his shirt and nuzzled into his neck. His scratchy beard tickled at your scalp, and his arms wound themselves securely around you and held you firmly against his warm body. Even through your stuffy nose, the intermingling scent of pine and cigars and cheap laundry detergent smelled like heaven in that moment and it calmed you. You’d been able to stop crying for a moment, and found yourself wiping your hands over your eyes and face yet again.
“There you go, love,” he murmured. “That’s better, isn’t it? You don’t have to fight your problems alone, you know. I’ve always said that to you, haven’t I? You don’t have to try to be so strong all the time.”
You scoffed at that, swallowing a thick lump in your throat.
“Don’t feel very strong right now,” you sniffed.
“Not strong? Course you are. You always try to push through everything till I come along and stop you, eh? C’mon, why don’t we get you sitting down and get you a glass of water.”
You smiled at his comment and nodded, drifting into the comfort of being looked after by someone that knew you so well.
Price took you over to the Sofa and fluffed up one of the pillows for you to sit against, not forgetting to unfold your favourite fluffy blanket in the process. He even wrapped it around you like a soft cloud, insulating you from the world.
He then disappeared into your kitchen for a moment, rummaging around and running the tap in a couple of short bursts before returning with a full glass of water and another glass with what you presumed was jack daniels and coke. That one wasn’t going to be for you, but distantly you did wish that it was. Drinking your problems away and escaping reality sounded like a rather pleasant prospect.
“Any chance you’d like to have the water?” you asked, smiling behind the blanket.
He chuckled and set the water down on the coffee table next to you, keeping the jack and coke on hand for himself while he sat down across from you. Even though he was only on the opposite end of the couch he felt too far away.
“Can’t have that. You’re not allowed to drink when you’re upset,” he said with a wink. “Against the rules.”
“Didn’t realise I still had to abide by those rules,” you retorted.
His eyes twitched a little, you could see something in his face change when you said that. You regretted it instantly.
“No ones holding you to em’, but they’re still what’s best for you, are they not?” he shrugged, looking at you expectantly.
Price had always been very good to you, and part of that was ensuring that you looked after yourself. So somewhere along the way in your relationship, when you’d been exploring each other’s kinkier sides, Price had set you some rules. Rules you had to follow on pain of a spanking. Sometimes it was a bother, but you’d come to realise that you’d never been healthier than when you’d been with him. You’d drank lots of water and made sure to go outside and go on walks when you could, and had refrained from falling back on alcohol when something was amiss. Just to think of a few rules.
He was correct in saying that they were what’s best. It was just difficult when he wasn’t around to enforce them.
“You’re usually right,” you said with an appeasing smile. “Doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t love to forget this whole weekend over a bottle of wine and a big box of cake though.”
He laughed at that, all traces of consternation wiped from his face as he must have pictured you with your go to coping mechanisms before you met him. You laughed too when you remembered the night he’d barged in on you eating and drinking your sorrows after a rough day at work. He’d had the joy of hauling you to bed afterward while you babbled on about how people had been so mean to you and how you wanted to set fire to the whole place and never go back there again.
“Well in lieu of wine and cake, you have water or I can go make you a tea. Would you like that?”
“No, its fine, the water’s good,” you said dismissively, finally picking up the cool glass with your dewy palms. “I just wish I could forget this whole weekend. It’s been a disaster.”
“Oh yeah? You ready to talk about it?”
You breathed in a sharp breath and tilted your head to the side.
Fuck it, you thought.
“Reid aired our dirty laundry in front of all of his friends and then proceeded to cheat on me,” you said, raising your water glass in toast before taking a swig. “That was after everyone made fun of me the whole time too.”
Price let out a short little laugh. He was incredulous.
“Cheated on you?”
“His ex kissed him and he uh- didn’t exactly try to get away from her,” you shrugged, voice breaking
“What a fuckin’ fool,” He growled. “He kissed his ex right in front of you?”
“He didn’t know I was there, I don’t think so anyway. I was supposed to be away getting drinks, but I came back to ask him what he wanted because they were out of beer and- well…yeah.”
“Doesn’t make it any better. What kind of an idiot would cheat on you?”
You felt your cheeks warm and shrugged again. Price had his faults, but he’d never hurt you like that. He was too old fashioned. A one person at a time kind of man.
“I guess it wasn’t really an amazing relationship to begin with anyway,” you sighed, reflecting over the month you’d had.
“No?”
“When I asked him where he saw things going, he said ‘I dunno. You want me to be your boyfriend or something?’ and then that was how we made things official,” you recounted, finally realising that maybe what had happened was for the best.
Price groaned and put a hand over his face. It reminded you of the time that you’d announced to him that you were going to buy a flying squirrel after you’d seen a cute video of one - something you often took to claiming with an array of different animals - and he’d worried you might be serious. He’d taken his hand off his face at the time and said ‘darlin with the amount of stuff I’ve had flying at me over the years, I’m not sure my heart could take being assaulted by an airborne rodent in the night.’
“You must be drawn to muppets or something,” Price mused. “You deserve a lot better than that.”
“I was with you last, wasn’t I?”
“Exactly,” He smirked. “Point proven.”
You smiled back at him and shook your head - Price and Reid weren’t comparable. Price cared for you too much, that’s why he ended up in that fight in the first place and that’s why he couldn’t comprehend that he was wrong for escalating things after you’d been shoved. Reid didn’t really care for you that much at all. It wasn’t like you’d made a massive effort for Reid either, but at the very least you hadn’t gone and let Price lick half your face off.
“You let me down at the end there, I’ll give you that…but before all that, you were the best thing that I’ve ever had in my life…Even when I wasn’t with you and you were in all those far off countries, and I used to whine and moan about you being away a lot, it was better than when I was actually alone, better than anything with anyone else too.”
“Love,” Price breathed, not knowing what to say.
You stared at him then and felt your heart burst. The floodwaters opened then, you coudln’t help yourself as you saw the sad sheen of his glistening eyes.
“These past few months I think I’ve really come to see what a stupid mistake I made. I shouldn’t have told you things were over before you left. I should’ve just stuck it out till you got back and we could’ve talked about it all properly. I was just scared and angry and I didn’t know what else to do. Now I know though…now I know what I should’ve done. Just tragically too late, huh?”
You whispered your confession, too afraid to look at him anymore as you said it, instead casting your eyes down to your blanket while you played with the soft material between your fingers. You huffed out a breath afterwards and looked up at Price, noticing the way his jaw clenched and his hand tightened on his glass. His knuckles were almost bone white.
Had you said too much? Were you going to chase him away? Who knows if he’d moved on and was really just trying to be there and be a friend for you.
For a split second you worried that you’d gone too far with your venting, but Price didn’t leave you hanging for long. He leaned forward and put a hand on your thigh just as you were about to apologise and held eye contact with you, keeping a firm hold of you and your attention.
“Darlin’...do you really mean all that?”
Your eyes would’ve welled up again if you had anything left to cry.
“Yes,” you breathed. “I’m sorry, but yes. It’s been all that I’ve thought about since I saw you last week.”
“Sorry? What’re you sorry for?” he said, laughing gently, searching your face.
“It’s not fair to tell you something like that. I’m basically ambushing you with all my feelings right now and you’ve been nice enough to drive me home and look after me, when all you were trying to do was get some shopping in and now you’re here listening to me blubber about my stupid feelings, when I haven’t asked you how you feel and how you’ve been doing and you probably don’t even want me by this point, because look at me and big tear streaked face, and-”
Price cut you off mid ramble, moving in closer to you and taking your face in his hands. They were rough and familiar and they were warm, and they held you steady just as you felt like you were going to come apart again. You breathed, but it didn’t feel like your lungs were able to hold onto the air. They were fighting for space with your booming heartbeat.
“Angel…you really- do you think,” he had to pause for a moment, his voice crackling. “Do you think maybe it’s not too late to talk more about it? Not now, course, but… you think you’d want to give us another chance?”
You pursed your lips and looked down. Angel. His favourite nickname for you, the special one he reserved only for you. You looked back up to his wide blue eyes and nodded. It seemed like you were glittering in the reflection of them.
“Yes…One day,” you smiled.
Price smiled back, his moustache turning up with his lips.
“One day,” he repeated, voice full of wonder.
Neither of you said anything for a second. You both just stared, tension mounting as the air felt so thick that you could craft shapes with it. It felt like neither or you was sure of your next move, but suddenly you got a burst of courage and you decided to take a leap of faith.
You kissed him. You leaned forward just slightly and took his mouth in yours, pecking at first until he kissed back and eventually your world was bursts of stars and hints of jack and coke. The taste of him landed deliciously on your tongue. Your heart pounded harder than ever at that point, but it was ok, because you could feel his beating erratically just the same.
You moaned.
“Please, daddy...”
You let the words loose before you could even think about it. What is it they say about old habits…?
“Shit, hold on, I-” you sputtered, breaking away from Price completely.
“Language!” he chuckled, his laugh low and earthy.
You paused and looked at him measuredly, trying to parse out what had just happened. In the wake of all the familiarity, you’d resorted to your old name for him. Apparently he wasn’t against its resurrection, he’d found it amusing in fact. You pressed your tongue to the roof of your mouth, searching for the right words, but you weren’t entirely decided between apologising or asking if he liked it.
“Don’t look so worried, Angel,” he soothed, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. “You can still call me that if you like. Or are you apologising for kissing me?”
“But…well…isn’t it a bit unfair for you..y’know, since we haven’t really completely resolved things yet? I can’t just go around kissing you out of the blue and calling you daddy and we haven’t even talked about-”
“Would you stop rambling on about what’s fair and right,” Price admonished, rolling his eyes, “I don’t care about what you’ve been doing all these months, I don’t care about doing things by whatever rules people normally go by. All this time, all I’ve wanted is you, and now you’re here in front of me telling me you want to give things another go…I’ll take as much as you’ll give me. So tell me…do you want to kiss me? Will that make you happy? It would make me happy.”
You took a breath and nodded.
“Words, Angel,” he admonished.
“Y-yes,” you stuttered, feeling like your head had been sparked with a jump lead.
“Very good,” he praised, whispering lowly into your ear.
You shivered as you felt the words zip down your spine. You hummed with the praise and felt your body warm up considerably, feeling entirely too hot all of a sudden.
Price soon gathered you in his arms like clay and moulded you into his lap, untangling you from your blanket nest and switching places so that he was propped against the arm and you were leaning snugly against him. With you both comfortably in place, he put one hand on your hip while he held the back of your neck with the other, and gently placed a couple of kisses on your neck, sending your spine alight with tingles.
“And would you like to call me daddy again?” he asked again, still murmuring deep and low.
You swore then that he’d disturbed a horde of butterflies that you didn’t know had been dormant all that time inside your tummy. Your heart was fluttering along with them.
“Um, yeah, I mean- yes. Yes.”
“Yes, what?” he urged, kissing your neck. “You know how to answer properly. I know you do.”
Were you in a fantasy of your own making? Had you died and gone to heaven?
“Y-yes, daddy,” you whimpered, nuzzling your head into his chest.
“Oh…” he breathed, voice all growly and needy. “That’s my sweet Angel. So good for me.”
You could’ve died then and there. You couldn’t imagine ever feeling happier. You didn’t care if it was a fever dream, coma hallucination or a psychedelic induced fugue state. All you wanted was to be with Price again, and with him reassuring you and praising you and holding you in his arms like that, why would you try to fight it?
You unburrowed yourself from his chest and scanned over his face, admiring his crinkly eyed smile and scruffy face for a moment before kissing him again, wrapping your arms around him snug just in case it really was all a dream. You wouldn’t let it fade away. You were going to hold on tightly. You’d continue to kiss his fluffy bearded face and welcome every sensation as it rooted you in your dreamlike reality.
You intertwined yourself with him and moaned, returning his kisses with fervent need and roamed your hands around his back, eventually bringing a hand up so that you could thread your fingers through his wiry dark hair. The bristle of it jolted through you and you smiled against his lips.
“That feel good, hm?” he growled, “I can feel you bucking your hips against me, love.”
You felt your cheeks burn like hot coals and refused to meet his eyes, instead settling your chin on his shoulder. You hadn’t realised you’d been doing it, but now that he’d mentioned it you finally registered the sway of your body gliding over his and noticed the growing hardness underneath you.
Fuck.
“That does feel good,” you whimpered, not embarrassed enough to stop yourself. “Feels so good, daddy.”
“Mhmm? Feels good for me too. I love feeling your body on mine,” he hummed, kissing the side of your neck. “You’re so gorgeous, you know that? So so perfect.”
You whined and nuzzled against his neck, drawing out a low groan from him as your nose connected with his tender flesh. You slowly returned the favour, kissing him just as he’d been kissing you and showing him exactly how it felt to have your body set alight with prickling heat. You smiled as he continued to moan with you, but it didn’t last long.
He snatched the upper hand back, and propelled you both forward, forcing you to lie back on the couch, on top of your blanket, while he took his place on top of you. He ground his hips into yours and had you eking out the most salacious moans, filling the room with the sound of your pleasure.
“I love it when you moan for me like that, I’ve missed that sound so much,” Price rumbled, “do you want more? Would you like that?”
“Mm, yes,” you keened. “More, daddy. I want to feel you.”
“Wanna feel me, hm? Ok, Angel. Lets get these clothes off shall we?”
You moaned just at the suggestion and eagerly complied, sitting up a little and helping him to remove your top and trousers until you were naked below him. You were about to ensure that he matched you in kind, but the only thing he’d allowed you to remove was his shirt, hastily popping the buttons off like you were unwrapping a present. He’d put his hand over yours at his trousers and given you a wicked grin, a glint appearing in his azure eyes.
“Uh uh, don’t you worry about that,” he smiled, bringing your hand up to his lips so that he could kiss it. “We’re focusing on you right now.”
“But I wanna make you feel good too,” you whined, tilting your head.
“I know you do,” he laughed, gently pushing you back down so that you were flush to the couch. “Just trust me, this will make me feel very good. Just let me treat you like you deserve.”
He didn’t allow you any more time for backchat. You whimpered as he fastened his mouth around one of your nipples and you writhed at the sensation, moaning low in your throat when he trailed his hand down your body, past the swell of your belly and drifted down below. You were bucking your hips against him slowly again, creating friction between you and his hand.
He alternated between nipples for a moment, swirling and flicking his tongue while he lazily rubbed his palm against you, not in a rush to try and urge you to a finish. He savoured you and sent your body sparking and prickling like a freshly lit firecracker. Your breathing was getting heavier and your stomach was tightening and coiling and it only grew more and more erratic as he started to move down your body, kissing his way down to the opening between your thighs.
“So good for me lying there. So obedient. You always do what daddy tells you, don’t you?” he growled, planting a kiss just below your belly.
“Mm, yes,” you breathed, struggling to think of any words
“Yes what?” Price asked, nipping the meat of your thigh and drawing out a yelp.
“Yes, daddy!”
He was using his tongue on you now, swirling it around and tasting you, savouring your pleasure. You swallowed the lump in your throat and clutched at the couch cushion next to you, scrunching the thick material in your hand, clutching it for support. It didn’t take long until he fell into a steady rhythm, using his mouth and hands on you and sending you into a spiral.
Your mind was barely present anymore, you were only good to use a couple words and no more. Everything else was just moans while your head felt like it was turning to mush. You breathed deeply and heavily and thrust your hips against Price, feeling the coil in your belly tighten all the more, feeling the stars in your eyes turn from constellations and into tiny galaxies and universes.
“I- um- Daddy, I-”
“Are you gonna cum for me, love?” Price rasped.
“Yes!”
“Go on then. Cum for me. Show me how good I make you feel, Angel.”
You groaned and the swelling feeling in your head boiled to breaking point. You shuttered your eyes closed tightly and squeezed the couch cushion tightly, moaning out as your orgasm washed over you. The wave of pleasure rushed over your body and after a big rush of pleasure, it lapped slowly over you, gently receding until you were left a shaking twitching mess underneath your lovers body.
“Oh my god,” you breathed, blinking away the fuzziness form your eyes. “Holy…Moly.”
Price looked up at you from between your thighs and barked out a laugh, clutching his head in his hand while the other gripped your shaking thigh. Once he recovered from your outburst, he shook his head and clambered up your body, coming to a rest against next to you, and drawing you into his arms.
He was rock hard against you, but there was very little you could do about it in the state you were in. You just bustled yourself into him and lay your head against the warm expanse of his chest and sighed happily, basking in the aftershocks of your happy ending he rubbed your arms.
“You’re not gonna let me return the favour, are you?” You’d mumbled eventually, rutting up against him for emphasis.
“Got plenty time for that, Angel,” he said gently redirecting you off of his throbbing centre. “Just wanted to make you feel good. You’ve had such a rough day, you deserved something to take your mind off it all.”
He placed a kiss on top of your head then and drew you closer, wrapping his arm tighter around you. You sighed and ran your fingers along it, feeling the little dark hairs tickle at your finger tips. You came to a stop at his palm and lightly traced over his lifeline, it was illuminated by the soft glow of your lamp.
“How come you were out shopping so late?” You asked sleepily, letting your hand drop and rest at Price’s side.
He shrugged at first, rocking your body with the movement.
“Sat around feelin’ a bit useless today,” he said eventually, sighing deeply. “Didn’t have anything lined up for myself, so eventually I decided to go for a walk to clear my head. I went all the way out to the hills and was out for hours, didn’t get back until after dark and then i realised I didn’t have anything to eat. How come?”
“I dunno…i guess its just a little funny that you ended up in that car park just when I needed you to be there. Like fate or something,” you murmured.
He chuckled at that and kissed your head again. The sound washed over you like spring rain.
“You know I don’t normally subscribe to rubbish like that, but on this occasion…it feels like there’s something to that theory.”
“Yeah? Feel’s like a good thing to be saddled with me again, does it?” you smirked, trying to cover up how worried you were about being a burden.
No matter how good he’d made you feel only moments before you couldn’t help the rush of paranoia from kicking in. The feeling that Price was going to realise that you were too much to be with, that you needed him more than he needed you. It had begun to feel like the past few months were a great demonstration of that. He’d survived a warzone and gotten through deployment while you holed yourself up for over a month from grief and then jumped into a failed relationship in the making just to try and get over him.
“Listen to me, love, before you get any big ideas about this being some kind of hardship for me again…This past week that I’ve been back has been miserable. Deployment was bad, but I had a bit of distraction over there at least. When I got back here, and realised what life was really like without you? That was hell. You give me purpose, Angel. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now, than cuddled up with you on the couch. There’s no one else I’d rather be with, no one in the whole world.”
He swallowed harshly and continued on.
“When I thought I’d lost you forever I was so angry with myself, I realised right away when I got on that plane that I should’ve just admitted that you were right. You were right, and I shouldn’t of hurt that man like that. I lost control of myself and I was too stubborn to hear that he wasn’t really a threat. I wanted to call you and tell you that, but I figured you’d been hurt enough and the last thing you needed was me playing with your feelings and trying to work things out while I was away. I reckoned that if I came back and you were open to give things a go again I’d make sure to fix things, but if you wanted to keep me out your life then…well I’d have wished you the best. Whatever happens between us, now or in the future, I want you know that I only ever want what’s best for you, because I…”
He trailed off, peering toward the lamp and letting his eyes blur into its amber glow. You stared up at him from your place on his chest and smiled, watching the way his lips tried to form to finish his sentence. He was pensive, he wasn’t sure whether to say them or not.
“Because you love me?” you smiled, swivelling so that you faced him fully.
You finally had a little strength flood back into your body, so you hoisted yourself up and lay on your tummy, folding your arms over his chest and resting your chin on top of them. He tilted his head at you and smiled, affirming your words with a tight nod.
“I’ll always love you,” he sighed, “No matter what. Just wasn’t sure if it was entirely appropriate to say that to you just yet.”
“John, you just threw me around and made me cum while I called you daddy - appropriate ran out the door and flew to the moon like a half hour ago,” you giggled.
He laughed with you and shook his head, clearly in as much disbelief as you were that this was really happening. You were back in each others arms, just where you were always meant to be. You sighed and he ran his hand over your head, stroking his fingers through your hair and sending your head into a fuzzy daze with the feeling of his gentle touch.
“You make a good point,” he agreed. “Always have struggled with moving at a normal pace, haven’t we?”
“Yeah, I think that was pretty apparent from the moment we met,” you agreed.
“I’ll never forget the look on Gaz’s face that night he opened that door,” he mused, getting that stupid smile on his face that he always got at the memory of the time you’d met - and immediately fucked.
“I hate when you bring that up,” you groaned, giving his arm a playful slap. “He was so pleased he’d introduced us before he walked in on us!”
“Well, serves him right for not knocking,” he winked, “it's rude to barge in on a superior officer.”
“Ugh! You’re lucky I love you too, or I’d be getting up and locking that bedroom door,” you groaned. “I hate the superior officer line!”
He smiled at that, his face brightening instantly. You’d said it back. His eyes were perfect crescents. You loved when they did that, sparkling outwardly to you through shuttered lids. He was like a cuddly koala bear.
“You know what?” he said suddenly, his voice low and soft.
“What?” you asked, frowning as his tone shifted.
“You’re going to let me take you for dinner tomorrow,” he announced.
“I am?” you smirked, relaxing instantly.
“Yes you are. We’re going to go to dinner and talk everything through and we’re going to set everything right again. Then after that we’re going to put all this nonsense behind us, yeah?”
You giggled lightly at his commanding tone, but you didn’t disagree, you nodded. You fastened your arms around him and cuddled into him close, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as you settled into his perfectly warm body. Your eyes started to flutter as you did, growing heavy as you became more and more aware of how drained you actually were.
“I think I like the sound of that,” you sighed, closing your eyes completely.
Price squeezed your shoulder and gathered you close, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. His beard scratched at your scalp again.
“Good,” he yawned. “That sounds good to me too…”
-💘-
1 week later
You were sorting out some grand emergency at work and Price was in your flat alone. He’d had a shower and gotten himself half dressed, too eager to get something to eat to put a shirt on. So he stood in your little kitchen in front of the window, bathing in the spring sunlight, eating a bowl of cereal to himself as his damp hair dried from his strategic position.
Just like he’d said, you had fixed things at dinner the night after you’d reconciled - and from there on it was almost like things had completely gone back to normal. Almost. When you’d turned your phone on the next day, you were greeted with a torrid of horrible messages and some hundred missed calls from Reid. However, with Price there, you didn’t really let any of it bother you.
Not much anyway.
He held you through your upset and after a quiet minute of figuring out what to do, you messaged Reid a short, matter of fact text. You told him that you were in fact serious about your decision, you reminded him that - no - you weren’t drunk when you’d left, you weren’t ‘being crazy’ and would even be generous enough to put his things he’d left at yours into a box for him to collect, should he decide to be grown up enough to come over and get them.
You’d gotten a million more missed calls after that and a flurry of messages, but after hearing Price’s words of encouragement, you ignored them all. After a few days they stopped coming, and a few days after that you assumed that that was it. That he was out of your life for good. Thank god.
However, Reid had decided he wasn’t going to go completely quietly. Well, he was forced into not going quietly. After being egged on by his friends, he was put in a tricky position and realised that he wasn’t going to be able to back down. At their insistence he was going to turn up to your place unannounced and confront you when you were least expecting it - give you a piece of his mind while you were unprepared and unable to defend your ‘completely mental overreaction’.
At least that was how it was supposed to go.
Though, when he’d pounded on the door and had someone other than you answer, his smile dropped. His face was practically tripping him when he realised who it was that answered.
“Can I help you?” Price asked, crunching on a spoonful of cereal, completely unbothered.
“Can you…help me?” Reid repeated, incredulous.
“Certainly can,” Price grinned, leaning against the doorframe. “That’s why I offered.”
“What the fuck are you doing here? Where’s that hypocrite that’s clearly cheated on me?”
Reid was furious. He couldn’t believe that he was made to feel like such an asshole for kissing someone else when you’d been with the geriatric behind his back the whole time. He was fuming
“Hypocrite? I believe you two were broken up after that little stunt you pulled, mate,” Price corrected, putting his cereal bowl down on the entry table. “Why don’t you just settle down and stay here while I get your little box of shit. Then you can be on your way.”
“You think I’m just going to go while you’re making me look like a mug? You went and swooped in on someone that’s taken and think you can just walk around naked like you own the place now because they slutted themselves out to you?”
“Careful, son,” Price growled. “Better choose your words more carefully.”
“Or what? You’re gonna kill me?” Reid laughed. “You don’t intimidate me, old man. You’d lose your job over something like that. Guy like you would go to prison for a long time.”
Price chuckled to himself and nodded his head, quirking his lips into an upside down smile. It didn’t meet his eyes though. They didn’t turn to crescents, they just stayed slitted ever so slightly, glaring at the absolute maggot before him.
Price would’ve loved to have taught that shit eating little cunt a lesson. Though he knew already that any kind of physical violence would have you both on the rocks again, and after he’d just gotten you back he wasn’t ready to jeopardise things. However that wasn’t to say that he wasn’t prepared for Reid’s visit, oh no. He had more weapons at his disposal than the average man - he knew plenty of people in lots of places, both high and low, powerful and shady.
“Little old fella like me couldn’t do damage like that,” Price sighed, putting his hand over his heart like he was weary. “I have other things I can do though. Don’t even need to bother laying a hand on a little weasel like you.”
“Oh yeah like what?” Reid laughed, hoisting himself up to the last step and getting into Price’s face. “You gonna get some army buddy of yours to rough me up or something, pay me a visit and scare me? If that happens I’ll record the whole thing.I’ll get you done for it! All my friends know about you, they’d back me up that you were behind it all.”
Price shook his head and sent a quick message off on his phone, quickly taking it out of his pocket and burying it back in again in a flash. After that, he proceeded to pick his cereal back up and ate another spoonful, scrunching up his face when he realised it had mostly lost its crunch. Well, he made a face at that and the fact that Reid was still there and giving him that stupid challenging little look.
“Sounds like I’d get into a lot of bother for that,” Price agreed, swirling his spoon around his bowl. “I’d just hate for you to have recordings…mind you, I don’t think I’ll have to worry too much about those. You’ll be too busy trying to unfuck your life to bother about me.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Reid frowned.
Reid threw him a gesture as if to ask what the hell, and Price shrugged, taking one last bite of his less than tasty cereal. He resolved to himself that he’d pour another bowl and get himself to the shops. He’d hate for you to be running low - it was important to him that you ate afterall. All a part of making sure you were looked after and cared for.
“I said - what’s that supposed to mean!” Reid gritted out, poking a finger into Price’s chest.
Price growled and shot him a warning glare, sending the younger man flying back with just the change in demeanour alone. Reid looked stupid then, holding his palm out like he was going to try and karate chop Price.
“Why don’t you run home and go check your credit score and bank accounts, hm?”
“What? What are you talking about?” Reid laughed, taking his phone out of his pocket. “Are you actually trying to pretend like you can do something like-”
Reid trailed off and frowned down at his device, hurriedly tapping the screen as his brows knitted tighter together.
“Ugh, what an absolute dinosaur I am,” Price grunted, shaking his head at himself. “You can check all these things on your phone nowadays. Plonker. Anyway, like I said - have fun trying to work all that out.”
Price went to shut the door, but grunted when Reid stuck his foot in it before he could close it fully. He glared when he almost spilled his cereal on himself, the milk had splashed up against the sides and a little had dribbled onto his foot. Other than that he was mostly uncovered. Reid was safe from having the rest splashed all over him.
“I’m going to the Police about this! You hear me? I’m going to report this and you’ll be in so much fucking trouble!” Reid vowed, wrenching the door back open. “Fix this right now! Fix it now, or I’ll do it. I’ll go to the police.”
“Go to the police then. But what’re you gonna tell them exactly? ‘Oh, my ex’s boyfriend has frozen all of my money and tanked my credit score! Do something, Mr. Officer!’ Sounds a bit fucking looney, doesn’t it?”
Reid looked at him with wide eyes, withdrawing his foot from the doorway as Price laughed at him, frowning as the realisation fully sunk in. He could report the crime, but he had no idea how Price had even managed to do it in the first place. Something like that would require the help of dodgy people, the likes of which Reid couldn’t even comprehend.
And if he could do all that to Reid’s finances…after, presumably, sending a single text…then what else would Price be capable of?
Reid backed away fully and looked at Price and down at his phone, then back to Price and back down at his phone, locked in a state of disbelief. What the fuck had just happened. His heart dropped and his mouth got dry. It was like he’d forgotten how to breathe.
“Watch that last step, son. I’d hate for you to hurt yourself,” Price called, grabbing the door so that he could finally shut it. “If you know what’s good for you you should stay away from here and never send another pig headed message again. Never know - It might help your little money situation. Might not help, mind you, but it certainly couldn’t hurt, could it? Good bye, now.”
And with that Price closed the door and retreated back inside, leaving Reid to stand stupidly on the grass out front while he struggled to comprehend what had just happened.
There, Price thought, things are just as they should be now. He smirked to himself as washed up his cereal bowl, replaying what had just happened in his head. Thank you Nik. Guess I owe you a beer, mate.
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they don't see it, because it is around them like air. to them, it would have to be through movies, through magazines. they think it happens outside of life, like it must be selected to be interacted with.
but you discovered in the fifth grade that you couldn't wear shirts with words on them, it was an excuse for someone to look at your chest. you were catcalled before you were in middle school. sometimes you look at that memory and deny it - surely that can't be right, you were young. but you were in a skirt, so maybe that was a natural byproduct. it was a skirt from that place "justice by limited too" - a store literally for kids. it was popular around then. you wore that skirt twice and then never again.
you can't wear headphones, because what if a man wants to talk to you? there's a guy on the internet who complains that women shut themselves off from being approached. at night, you often keep the headphones positioned but with the sound off, just in case you need to hear something behind you.
you learned at 12 that you can't make eye contact, don't acknowledge the aggression. just walk faster and hope he picks on somebody else. don't wear your hair like that. do not park next to that kind of car, park an entire cityblock away if you must.
you can't go to the museum, you're sitting and tying your shoe when he approaches you and mentions that nobody understands art anymore. that in the whole world, it's just you-two. you have no recourse for eating a meal (it's rabbit food if it's salad, and someone will roll their eyes, eat a sandwich. it's pick-me behavior if it's a burger, we get it you're a cool girl). if you like mushrooms you are cottagecore, which is cheesy. if you like video games you're an egirl (similar to a pick-me). boys do not get categories, but if you point out the categories are sexist, you are told okay but these girls really exist.
it is somehow developing, a little undercurrent that you've been uncomfortable with. the nickname "karen" went from being "a white woman that uses her whiteness as a weapon, particularly against people of color," to now mean "any woman raising her voice or being even a little upset." the reappropriation of a term used specifically to call out white women for their racism has set your skin on edge. now it is just another version of "bitch," one that can be said on television. recently you saw a woman get called a karen because a drunk driver sideswiped her, and she screamed when it happened. the comments on the dashcam video all say "why do women always scream about everything." "when has the world ever been bettered by women screaming." "this fucking karen. she deserved to get hit."
in the sitcom, it's a joke that the wife is furious; slamming her hands down into the sink. i do everything around here, might as well do this too. in your house, your father is always in-his-office. before you know better, your first boyfriend is the type to say it's just easier for you. you used to beg him to take you on dates. he used to make a big deal about it, about the sacrifice of effort, even if you were the one who did most of the planning.
someone on the internet makes a "POV: the most boring person you've ever met" where he puts a towel on his head and just talks like a normal person. his impression of a boring woman is just a woman that is talking about her pretty-average life without exaggeration.
you are sometimes actually sad in the reverse, because actually you did used to struggle to pay attention in conversations. you were also easily bored of normal things, your adhd pinging off of every radio tower in the vacinity. it took time and therapy and patience, and now you delight in the small things about your friends. you like having them show you their organizational systems and talk about their taylor swift tickets. you are entertained by them because you learned to be, even though your brain is structured to only be excited by novelty. you kind of hate the idea that the reason your father will never actually pay attention to you is that you're no longer interesting. eventually the shine wore off, and you were just a person, not a spaceship. he never learned how to just, like, form an actual intimate friendship. it was always at a distance, this sense - emotional closeness was too much. (and yes. he's homophobic).
you're already tired of whatever the fuck is happening with the words "divine feminine", a rancid take that is basically just a rebranding of the patriarchy in action. what the fuck do they mean "being small and delicate and needing protection" is feminine. the words they are looking for are that they want a partner, not that their desire for equivalent support is relegated to gender. the human desire for community is not actually gendered at all. also, what fucking wolves are these "divine masculine" men even battling. fuckken taxes? shouldn't their "desire to protect" also mean "protect you from emotional neglect", or are all emotions off-limits (and how sad would that be. that's a horrible bar to set.)
and they tell you it's really not bad actually, because it's just there. they suggest you get off the internet or you stop reading that book or you stop thinking so hard about the movie or you stop just-being-a-feminist because honestly it's a killjoy sort of thing and then you tilt your head to the side and there's that little siren in the back of your head. if things were actually fine, being a feminist wouldn't put a stop to anything, it would go completely unnoticed, because you wouldn't have any comment to make about any of this
but you are ruining your own life, they tell you. also, girls don't sit like that. also, all girls are catty. also, all girls are bad drivers. also, all girls just need a cute bracelet and an iced coffee.
you do like iced coffee, is the thing. when you close your eyes, the world around you has this strange note to it. and once you hear it, it never stops ringing.
#writeblr#this is far too long#sjw bullshit#idk i MEANT to write about somethng else completely and if i have time i will#about like . how if ur gay this is even more obvious#bc they like. hi ur 3 now where is ur boyfriend#and ur like. :) good news mother i have activated the lasers in my plush dog and he is dancing in the guts of my barbie
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❊ turn me down - michael kaiser
. . loving you might just be the unluckiest fate.
there is an ache in kaiser's chest that he can't get rid of.
it's been lingering for far too long to be normal. like a broken wire, sparks fly down his spine, burning from the inside. he's already tried writing it off as bad sleep. he's tried explaining it away as lifestyle, or certain foods, or other irrelevant factors. but no matter what he tries, this dull pain, it persists. it lives inside him; a parasite.
he feels it when the train slows to a stop. he feels it in his history lecture when his professor says something dull. he feels it on the football field when he really, really shouldn't. kaiser can't escape the sensation. it follows him like a shadow, like a bad omen, like a ghost.
and the only solution, he's found, is your touch.
this is discovered on a rain-soaked monday. the both of you had been taking cover in your apartment, and your roommates were all out. it hadn't been awkward, not at all. because before anything else, the both of you were friends. you'd met in a chemistry class a few months back. your friendship was new, and it was easy; it was even easier for him to fall for you.
maybe it had happened that night, when the two of you had shared your first kiss together. when you'd both agreed to be a little more than friends, but not much more. when he'd first touched you the way he wanted to. or maybe he'd fallen for you before that— back in the class, back to your first study session. or maybe it was sometime after. he doesn't know. he may never know. but as it stands, that's where he is; hopelessly, pathetically infatuated with you.
he thinks of it as something like a blessing. the way you talk to him makes him feel tethered and real. the way your hands trace familiar pathways down his back on late nights makes everything feel right. the way you care about him makes his whole body burn enough to forget the stupid ache in his chest.
you've always been hard to read. he can never quite tell what you're thinking, although he itches, burns, to have every single piece of you learned and memorised. is it just for fun to you? or is it more, like it is to him? do you think about him when he's not there like he thinks about you? does his touch make you feel okay for once, too? he hopes so. he needs it to be true, really. because there is something desperate about the way he loves you. like he's grasping at something that's always just out of reach. like you're the only cure for his pain. like you're the only good thing he has, like he can't let you be just a friend.
but that's all you are, really; just friends. nothing less but also nothing more. an unfortunate conundrum. and even more unfortunate is the fact that in his blindness, he'd neglected to account for the fact that friends-with-benefits was no kind of commitment, either.
the bar is muggy and crowded on friday nights, and tonight is no different. kaiser is usually by your side, but he's let himself get pulled away by some of your friend group for a game of pool. but when he's done, and searches for you, you aren't alone. there's a stranger seated in the barstool where he once was, making conversation with you— and you look amused. a hand is propping your head up and your body is tilted towards the stranger, and your eyes crinkle a little around the corner like they do when you find something funny, and kaiser is angry. his body aches, it burns. an ugly feeling melts into his bones, mixing not-too-well with the alcohol already in his system as he moves to where you're sitting.
maybe it's ego. maybe it's envy. or maybe, just maybe it's desperation, as he inserts himself between you and the man with a crooked grin in your direction. "everything okay here, darling?"
you might be hard to read at times, but there's no mistaking the venom that burns behind your eyes as you glare at him. it should hurt. but you're looking at him, so how bad could it be?
you feign a smile and play along, presumably to avoid embarrassment. "yes. yes, actually, more than okay. in fact, i'm ready to go now. mind paying my tab?"
he likes you when you're irritated. he likes you all the time. he'd pay your tab even if you didn't ask. kaiser can feel your anger swell as the man you were speaking to dismisses himself, and as he leads you out of the bar. but he can't be angry. not now, because you take his hand when it's offered. he knows it's to avoid a scene, but he'll pretend it's more than that. your hand in his sends warmth down his body in sparks, enough to make everything else disappear.
"what the hell was that?"
you're mad. he knew you'd be. but he loves you so he just smiles like an idiot.
the street outside the bar is mostly empty. no one is close enough to hear your conversation, and only a few bar hoppers remain, waiting for a cab or stumbling to their next destination. a streetlight shines down on you, turning you amber in its light. you look beautiful. you might've been waiting for him to respond, he's not sure; but when he doesn't, you keep going.
"kaiser, what is your problem?"
something about your saying his name snaps him out of his haze. oh. what was he doing?
"we agreed," you continue, "we're just friends. just friends. we're not anything, kaiser. we're nothing, got that?"
you're mad, you're so mad. and your words burn and sting, like whips on skin, like fire on flesh. he's silent. he doesn't have anything to say, now that the fog has lifted around his brain. you and him were nothing. he loves you like a godless man, but you and him are nothing.
"right," is all kaiser says. he lacks his usual conviction or confidence. he fears that you may be the only person who will ever be capable of reducing him to ashes. you cross your arms and stare at him with a sardonic, "yeah. right."
he loves you. he loves you like a saint, he loves you like you're all he has. and he realises, right there on the sidewalk in front of a dingy bar, that loving you does nothing but hurt.
he never ached the way he does now before he met you. he never burned with emotion too strong to contain. knowing you brought on the pain, and loving you made it worse, and being around you ruined him. this was not a blessing. this was a curse. your touch was not a cure as much as it was a cause.
it hurts to love you. it hurts to love you this much and get nothing back. he knows he shouldn't, now, he's realised that it'll only make things worse. he shouldn't. but he can't let you go, not now. he's addicted to the pain, he's addicted to the melancholy of it all. which is why he smiles. which is why he says, "can i take you home and make up for it, then?"
your face is unreadable, you're sure. and he'd never know how you were feeling at that very moment. because you're hard to read on purpose. because you're not ready for him to know. but that same pain, that same hurt; you feel it too. that same love. unrequited, in your eyes. nothing but trouble. that same love, that makes you smile back. that same love that makes you say, "it's the least you could do," as you take his hand and leave.
maybe one day one of you will have the courage to shut it down or open up. maybe one day, you'll both really end up as either something or nothing. maybe one day, the ache of love's burden will lift. but for now, the pendulum swings as one of you waits for the other to finally put them out of their misery, and turn them down.
flower chosen: yellow rose
. . jealousy
❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊
#aka fwb but he's in love with u#michael kaiser x reader#kaiser x reader#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#bllk#kaiser michael x reader#blue lock kaiser#kaiser michael#michael kaiser#blue lock#inspired by “turn me down” by julia jacklin!#mitsies 5k#sorry about this MESS i have not written in 5ever and my brain is meltingrn over kaisers recent hairstyle and also finals ig
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I think there's a Thing where any transphobia known to be against a transfem gets called "transmisogyny", which is fine I guess, but idk I feel like transmisogyny is supposed to be the word for the Specific Type of oppression that trans women face, not "transphobia that in this case is against a trans women". Does that make sense? Like if somebody misgenders a trans woman and that's it, that isn't anything more specific than "transphobia", right? Like if somebody were to call me a faggot, I wouldn't consider That transandrophobia simply because I Am a trans man, I would just think of it as generally anti-queer. Does that make sense, or am I misunderstanding the terms transmisogyny, transandrophobia, etc?
No I think you're right, and tbh I think it's a manifestation (and a really good example) of the "identity = oppression" framework a lot of folks are operating under in these conversations.
It's not something anyone really says out loud, but I've noticed it as a pattern in certain circles; mostly a lot of primarily young, online queer circles.
It's the same framework that, imo, spawned "Transmisogyny Exempt/Transmisogyny Affected" (or "TME/TMA") in which one's identity is directly equivalent to the oppression they experience.
The logic goes: If you identify as X, you experience anti-X oppression. If your identity is not X, you do not, and cannot, experience anti-X oppression.
This is also where we get, like, "misdirected misogyny" as a concept: the logic is that trans men* do not identify as women, therefore they cannot experience oppression meant for women.
Or "slur discourse": if you do not identify as X, you do not experience anti-X oppression, you have never been called this anti-X slur, and therefore you cannot reclaim this anti-X slur.
A lot of other gatekeeping arguments follow similar logic, as do a lot of arguments against acknowledging "transandrophobia" (or anti-transmasc bigotry as a specific concept). Personal identity is understood to be directly equivalent to experiences with oppression, and trans men's identities are thus broken down into their two parts, and assigned corresponding experiences:
Trans experiences
Man experiences
Even understanding "trans man" to be a third identity, with additional, unique "trans man experiences", creates a lot of friction within this framework: a lot of the unique "trans man experiences" we talk about arise from interactions between transphobia and misogyny. But misogyny must be woman-only; our experiences with misogyny are considered incidental, or "misdirected".
If we consider identity to be directly equivalent to oppression, then what, exactly, could these unique "trans man experiences" be?
In this framework, they can only ever be the combination of "trans experiences" and "man experiences"; and "man experiences" cannot contain any unique "man oppression" (unless all men are oppressed just for being men), so "trans man experiences" can only ever be "trans experiences".
When people say "transmisogyny" to refer to any and all oppression that impacts trans women, it's because they understand identity and oppression to be one and the same. Trans women's experiences with oppression cannot be understood as complex & nuanced interactions between different systems of oppression- they are always considered transmisogyny, because the person experiencing them is a trans women, and the oppression of trans women is called "transmisogyny".
It's a reductive and honestly immature understanding of how identity and oppression interact with and relate to one another, but I find it really helpful to understand it when breaking down the flaws in arguments like these ones.
*Some trans men (as well as other transmasculine people) can and do identify as women, and this logic is often applied to transmasculine people as a whole, which erases those folks as well. I'm just not sure what the most accurate term to use here is, honestly.
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You’re such a nice guy, a nice guy
synopsis: Toji is just being a nice guy. Helping a girl out in her time of need while you’re at home not knowing where he’s at and what he’s doing. Let him show you just how sorry he is.
pairing: Toxic!Toji x Bratty afab!Black reader
content: 18+ mdni. pwp, Toxic relationship, little angst, petty black fem reader, mean Toji, assumed cheating (Toji is an asshole but he's a loyal asshole), use of the n-word like twice, implied multiple o’s, brat taming, cunnilingus, spanking, cerv*x touching, overstim, dumbifaction, manhandling, hair pulling, full Nelson hold, backshots, c.pie (wrap it before you tap it bby) beta read.
Pet names( baby, babe, sweetheart, Princess.)
Wc: 2.7k
a/n: This is my first smut ever and thanks to @peachy-dove for encouraging me and for beta reading! And shout to @rlvsmegumi for humbling my obsession for this creature of a man because insulting him was definitely a challenge before coming to her for help😭. Banner and boarders made by yours truly. Annnd on that note please enjoy 🥹💗
support & mdni
NSFW content under cut. Again minors gtfo.
It’s 2 am when your sleep is disturbed by multiple messages from your friends sending you photos of Toji and some girl around his arm leaving the club together. “What the actual fuck is this?!” You immediately sit up, feelings of anxiety and anger flooding your nervous system as you scroll through your contacts to call Toji debating if you were going to cuss him out or play dumb to figure out where the fuck he’s at. Honestly probably the latter with the amount of fury boiling in your veins.
The never-ending ringback tone plays in your ear as you’re, once again, sent to his voicemail. You opted for calling him a fourth time whilst you decide to spam his phone with text messages, but the usual blue turn green along with a reply message stating:
Msg 2110 - The customer you are trying to text is temporarily out of service.
“This fuckin—“ you let out an irritated groan, because of course this nigga’s phone service is off! And somehow he miraculously healed from the “pink eye” he supposedly had 7 hours prior when you last spoke to him too right? Since he’s out at some fucking club!
It’s going on 3 am when your rage turns into anguish as you call his phone for the nth time. You left voicemails ranging from calm, cool, collected, and concerned girlfriend to cussing him out saying, “Oh you no good community dick ass is out tryna fuck another bitch? You're fucking appalling Toji! Keep ya’ stank ass breath and dirty ass dick away from me. Go choke on a fucking Pepsi for all I care you fuckin’ dick!” You toss the covers off your body as you get up to turn the bedroom light on and began taking every article of clothing Toji has left in your apartment. Wanting to rid your life of anything of him completely, and as you're in the middle of your mental debate between throwing his shit in the dumpster or burning it, a loud banging at your door interrupts you. Reaching for the bat in your closet, you proceed towards your front door cautiously, as you stand on your tippy toes to peek through the peephole. It's covered by the person on the other side.
Attempting to use your deepest man-like voice you call out “Who is it?”
“Baby open the door it’s me.” Rolling your eyes at the sound of Toji’s now sickening nickname for you, you let out an exasperated sigh.
“One ‘m not your baby and two I dunno anybody named ‘me’. Get the fuck away from my door Toji.”
“Y/N let me in so we can talk I just got your messages, you’re overreacting.” Gripping the bat in hand tighter as you open the door furiously.
“Oh, I’m overreacting Toji! Are you fucking serious? You get caught lying and cheating, but I’m over-fucking-reacting!?” you shout not caring about how early in the morning it is. This asshole came all the way here and the first thing he says is you’re overreacting? “Christ y/n, quit shoutin’ before you wake the whole damn neighborhood.” Toji proceed to walk inside your apartment as if it was another regular Tuesday. Grudgingly you step aside as he walks in “What happened? She kicked you out so you decided to come here?” You express as you slam the door turning toward him.
If this was a regular Tuesday, a lot less talking would have been done if he hadn’t fucked up so tremendously.
He scoffs as he continues to your living room, manspreading comfortably on the couch “I ain’t do nothin’ with her babe, I was just bein’ a good samaritan that’s it.” Your eyes hardened feeling infuriated by his words, you stomp towards him. “A good Samaritan Toji. Seriously? That's the best excuse you can come up with for lying about having pink eye, getting caught leaving the club with another girl, and having the audacity to come here like you did nothing wrong. Did you hit your head on the way outta her place or are you just that fucking stupid?” Toji rolls his neck as he sighs nonchalantly, “Look I ain’t do nothin’. I was out drinking with some friends and I got a bit wasted. After that, this girl bought me a drink, so I decided to talk to her. She was very nice and friendly but she had no place to sleep for the night. I thought giving her the key to my hotel room, I was just doing her a favor, you know? But I promise you nothing happened between us... I was just tryna be nice.”
You step in front of him, pushing the knob of your baseball bat into his broad chest, as you chuckle dryly. “You…being nice? Are you being serious right now?? You’re an idiot, you know that? You’re telling me that you were just trying to help out a complete stranger and outta the kindness of your heart. You just gave her your room? An-and for what? For her to have a place to stay for the night or so she’d end up repay you in another way? An-and what about you lyin’ to me huh? What happened to the ‘bad case of pink eye’?”
He kisses his teeth and pushes the bat away from his chest as he smirk at you leaning in closer. “Was just dry eye babe, my bad for gettin’ the two confused.”
You push the bat back to his chest pushing him back against the couch, you grit through your teeth, “You're just a lying bastard. This whole time we've been together, every time you went out with your friends, I never even questioned it because I trusted you. Now, I catch you lying and you get caught red-handed by my girlfriends. And you know what's worse? You think I'm dumb enough to believe your stupid ass explanations. Well, I'm not! I deserve better than this. I deserve someone better than a lying ass, cheating piece of...”
Toji grabs the bat out of your hand standing over you feeling fed up with your bratty attitude as he speaks intermediately low,
“I ain’t cheat on you, so cut that shit out or imma do it for you. Now you know better than to go around makin’ empty threats like that…” He smirks and caresses your hip teasingly, “Just lemme show you just how loyal I am baby.”
Your eye slightly twitches as you look up at him and cross your arms over your chest.
“Screw you Toji. You fuck up and you think sex is gonna make things alll better?”
“Yeah, I do.” Toji pulls you in by your waist as he leans down looking smirking smugly, “Are you saying no to me? Really?” Toji brings a hand to your neck caressing your chin with his thumb, “I know you don’t mean it, but if you’re a woman of your word…” He leans down and whispers in your ear. “Tell me no.” You squeeze your thighs together as you try to fight your crumbling resolve, and in a weak attempt of resisting you place your hand on his chest. He chuckles and speaks huskily, “Can you resist me? Can you do it?”
Inhaling sharply you turn your head away from his touch and grumble, “Fuck you Toji… You’re drunk.” Toji flashes a devilish grin as he pulls you in close by your neck, placing a small kiss on your jaw before sliding his hand to the nape of your neck. “An you’re cute when you’re mad. Actin’ out just to get some attention, it’s cute really.” He kisses your neck, letting his tongue glide along the side slowly before biting it. Stifling a moan you try pushing away from his large figure refusing to lose so easily.
The brat in you taking things to the deep end, you look up at him smirking smugly as you say, “If I wanted some attention I’d be out helping some random nigga find his way back to my place, and give him a place to sleep for the night. Y’know, just be a Good Samaritan like that.”
Toji’s eyes darken and his grip around your waist tightens. “Still bein’ a brat huh? Well since I’m being so generous, let me help you find your way back to your place.” Your smile drops as the realization of how badly you just royally fucked up sets in and all you can utter is a small, “Oh shit.”
Toji swiftly picks you up tossing you over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes carrying you to your bedroom. You gasp at the sudden movement you pound your fist against his muscular back, “Fuck Toji put me down, I was just joking shit!” He smacks your ass at your tantrum as your only warning, but as he approaches the disarray of your bedroom with his scattering belongings on the floor he chuckles dryly. “Well with all my shit on the floor, think you were pretty serious ‘bout that ‘lil joke.”
Your very well-thought-out plan of begging for mercy goes straight out the window as he tosses you onto the bed, you let out a soft whimper once to lock eyes with his and he gives you a look only predators give their prey right before they devour them. “Nothin’ smart to say now, sweetheart?” With no turning back you decide to see how far you can push him, “Oh I have plenty to say, but I don’t think a poor creature like yourself would be able to comprehend...”
The sun kisses the horizon as Toji is slurping up your juices like it’s his last meal, his tongue flexing tight persistent circles on your swollen clit, your moans growing heavier whilst he brings you closer and closer to yet another orgasm he’s so generously given you. You grip his raven hair as you practically ride and push his face away reaching your third overwhelming orgasm of the day. “Fuuck! fucking waait T~”
Toji groans deeply against your dripping cunt the vibrations send shivers up your back, and he flattens his tongue as he messily licks up your sticky release. Toji kisses up your thigh leaving soft love bites as he pulls away to stand up to remove his tight boxers that are restraining his hardened cock. “I think I’ve made you wait long enough for ya punishment, yeah?” You pant heavily as your back-to-back euphoric highs fog your brain. “T ‘m sorry… I- I learned my lesson.” As he pulls his boxers down freeing his twitching cock he shows you fake sympathy, “Aww my baby is sorry now? Tsk tsk tsk that could have probably worked earlier y’know instead of you being a fuckin’ brat.”
He grabs your ankles pulling you closer to the edge of the bed and manhandles you onto your tummy, gripping your ass whilst positioning you into a deep arch putting your glistening swollen cunt on display. Tapping his fat tip against your sensitive cunt, you jerk at the sensation moaning out soft pleas “Toji… Baby ‘m sorry okay? I didn’t me—..” He bottoms you out in one go without giving time to adjust to his massive size you moan out into the sheets as he thrusts hard and deep into your tight cunt. You moan out louder looking over your shoulder to see Toji playing and squeezing your plump ass, “Toji please pleaasee I-I I didn’t mean it!” he smirks down at you as he holds down your head to keep you from running from his thick cock hitting your sweet spot over and over. “Didn’t mean what huh? When you said I was fucking appalling? Oh fuuck— or when you said you were gonna let someone else fuck what’s mine huh? Or when you said that my dick was for everybody hmm? Which is it y/n.”
You can barely comprehend what he’s saying let alone hear his deep voice over your loud moans and the increasingly loud paps filling the room, and your fourth orgasm approaching fast.
“Yes! Yes! Ah, fuuuck– ah T r-right there right there pleease!” Toji’s cock kissing your sweet spot with each of his brutal thrusts comes to a halt, and he pulls out chuckling at your cries. “Brats don’t get to make demands. Don’t mistake my generosity for forgiveness.” He teases you by rubbing his tip against your throbbing cunt, and watches you wiggle your ass trying to entice him, panting and begging as tears fall from your eyes.
“Please please pleease Toji! Please please fuck me.” Watching you cry for his cock causes something to snap inside of him… He grabs your arms locking them behind your back with one hand as he aligns his hardened cock with your swollen needy cunt, screaming as he slams his thick cock deep inside your walls. Toji covers your mouth thrusting deeper than before with an animalistic-like pace, he's practically fucking you onto his cock. “Thought I already told ya’ to quit that shoutin’ shit y/n. You wanted this shit, right? So fuckin’ take it.” You begin to drool and mumble incoherently against his hand, Toji tsk as he takes his hand away wiping your drool in your hair, pulling you up by your protective style against his chest whilst he continues to bully his slick-covered cock against your creamy walls. “Hmm? What was that? Got something to say, sweetheart?” Panting heavily you speak sultrily, “T-too m-much! Mmmm, please T! I-it’s too much! S-slow d-doown~” Toji groans as your cunt tightens and flutters around him and he lets go of your arms to reach down to your puffy clit, rubbing tight circles as he brings you undeniable pleasure.
“Why should I hmm? Did you slow down to fuckin’ think about what you said?” “T!! Waaaait ‘m sorry!” You shut your eyes tightly tears running down your face as your peek builds back up again faster and faster, you reach your hand back against his lower abdomen in a weak attempt to slow down his pace, crying as you moan out strenuously “Tojiii! I-I— oh fuuck please waait wait wa—” before you can plea anymore all it takes is a few more thrusts and you’re trembling uncontrollably as your release is gushing all over his lower abdomen and down the side of your covers onto the floor. Toji groans deeply and his
begins to falter as he watches you squirt all over his cock. “Shiiiit Princess you like that? Fuckin’ take this shit.” He locks his arms under yours, putting you in a full nelson hold pounding into you poor cunt unforgivably as he chases his release. All thoughts and sounds leave you speechless as your tongue kills out and you drool down your chin whilst he fucks you through another unexpected high to reach his and the lewd expression on your face only drives him insane, “Fuucking good girl— oh fuck Princess.” His brows furrow while a small ‘o’ forms on his lip as watching you fucked out on his cock sends him over the edge. He groans out as he stuffs your cunt full of his thick cum, “Oh shiit y/n, fucking take that shit.” You babble and whine out in response unable to form coherent sentences “So full T— stuffed soo stuffed.”
Once he catches his breath he slowly lays you back down on the bed and pulls out causing you to hiss and whine at the lost contact. “Tojiii, put it baack.” He chuckles as he kisses your head and smacks your ass once he pulls away, “Shh, you’re tapped out. You can get some more later if you behave.”
he walks to the bathroom to grab a wet rag and a towel for the bed, he comes back to clean you up, moving you over to the other side of the bed then places the towel under the large wet spot.
He climbs into the bed laying you on his broad chest. After a short comfortable silence you pout softly and mumbles, “ ‘m sorry Toji.” You hear a deep rumble in your ear and Toji gently lifts your chin as he smiles smugly. “Aw sweetheart I don't want an apology,” He gently caresses your cheek as you smile sweetly at him.
“But what I do want is for you to go clean that fuckin’ mess you made with my shit.”
Well damn.
A/n: well I’m gonna turn my notifications off now byeeeeee
#➸┈❥ℳ𝒪𝒞ℋ𝒜🖋️₊˚⊹♡#toji fushiguro smut#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji x black reader#fushiguro toji#toji smut#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#jjk toji#fushiguro toji x reader#jjk x black reader#black reader#black fem reader#Spotify
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I've Got You
ship: Sihtric Kjartansson x female!Reader
type: angst/fluff
word count: 2k
warnings: talks of violence and wounds
summary: I've become obsessed with TLK again and maybe also with Sihtric; so here a little fic about you and Sihtric riding together on a horse back after he saved you
~all rights reserved~
"Come on," Sihtric says to you, pointing at the large, dark horse beside him. It looks majestic and at the same time absolutely terrifying — you have never been on a horse in your whole life and–
"Come on, we need to leave. Now." There is urgency in his uttering, yet his gaze remains empathetic.
The convent where you have spent your entire life in was suddenly attacked. They mercilessly took down the guards, hurt you and your sisters, and as you tried to flee, one of the brutes followed after you. Despite your attempts to escape, his blade managed to slice into your calf, leaving a deep gash there. Unbeknownst to you, help has arrived outside, slaying the attackers.
And out of nowhere, a man appeared in the corridor you tried to escape him, almost like a heroic figure emerging from the turmoil of the battle. With skill that was beyond you, he killed the attacker with his sword, ending his life right before your eyes.
With remarkable ease, the man who revealed himself as Sihtric then swept you up in his strong arms, carrying you over his shoulder outside into safety.
Once joined by other men, and also some of your covent sisters he placed you on the ground next to a large horse and this is where you find yourself now, staring at him with eyes and your mouth wide open.
Your heart is beating so incredibly fast, hammering against your ribcage. There is so much pain in your system, so much panic, and fear, your whole body is shaking with the terror of what just happened.
You suck in a sharp breath, then another, your head feeling dizzy as tears start to cloud your vision.
"I…I can't…ride," you stammer, a whirlwind of emotions brewing in your mind. Your feel how your fingers tremble, how wobbly your knees are. The ground beneath you is covered in frost, crunching when you reposition your feet.
Something like sympathy passes over Sihtric's face and he reaches out and gently grabs your arm, his touch surprisingly tender. "Then we are riding together."
The words struck you immediately — riding with him, with him on the back of the horse!
You are a good Christian woman, you have never been so close to a man. It scares you, but the emotions are not stronger than the panic inside of you, and the urge to leave this place. You need to get away, fast. You know what you witnessed will haunt you forever, but staying here for longer won't make it any better. You need to get away from here.
One after the other your sisters are lifted onto horses as well, always riding with one of Sihtric's companions. A few of them are guided towards a very small carriage, your gaze following them until they disappear.
A gentle breeze starts to blow, gradually cooling the air around you and you find yourself shivering, both out of fear and the cold.
"Ride with me?" you hear the man next to you ask, almost like he is waiting for your consent. And God in heaven above, he truly is.
"Yes…" you say in a voice barely above a whisper, seeing tendrils of breath in front of your face.
Without hesitation and with strength that is beyond you, he lifts you off the ground, gently, and onto the back of the majestic, dark horse, onto the fur placed their. Your legs swiftly wrap around its strong body as you clutch the pommel tightly, a feeling of fear gnawing at your gut.
You're so high up, perched on this powerful creature. Your rob shifts upwards, revealing the pale skin of your legs and another shudder courses through you. If he notices, he does not let show, his gaze trained only on the horse, his jaw tense.
Sihtric wastes no time in mounting the horse behind you, causing your breath to catch in your throat. Uncertain of how to react, you remain frozen as he edges closer, gently pushing his chest, nothing but solid muscles beneath his leather armour, against your back. You feel how your hips are enclosed by his strong thighs, capturing you.
A shiver runs through you as you make contact with him – it's a sensation unlike anything you've ever experienced before.
A breath whooshes out of you when you urge yourself to relax your body. You can't escape the closeness to him up here, so you might as well give into it before you make your both fall off the horse.
"Let's go!" one man commands. He looks like the leader of the group, but you don't know for sure. Sihtric behind you shouts his answer. His warm breath tickles your neck, causing the hairs on your body to stand on end.
Your hands tremble as he wraps one arm around your waist for support and takes the reins with the other hand. Why did you let him touch you so intimately? What's come over you? This is not like you.
The wind grows stronger, now flakes of snow starting to fall, getting caught in your hair. It is growing colder, and the horse finally starts to move. It is bumpy, and despite the strong arm around you, you fear you might fall.
You shift slightly, trying to find a more secure position, but this elicits an unexpected groan from the man behind you.
"Don't do that," he grumbles behind you before urging the horse to move a little faster, albeit at a slower pace than the others.
You are left confused, your body all of a sudden tense again and you don't move at all. Soon, you fall in line with others, their horses moving gracefully in sync with yours, all trotting at the same pace. The rhythmic beat of hooves hitting the ground creates a melody around you that slowly soothes the panic inside of you. Yet, your breathing is shaky and ragged, suddenly the memories of what you saw flooding your mind again — you see it all, the blood, the pain, the violence.
Sucking in a sharp breath, your eyes close and you try to level your breathing. Small snow flakes land on your face and get caught in your hair. You blow out a long breath, heart beating so unsteadily in your chest. Biting down on your lower lip, you try to direct your thoughts to more positive things, thinking about happy times in the covent.
Sihtric watches you from behind, your figure so fragile in his strong arms. It almost feels like you could break any second, and he knows that you were close to doing so back at the convent.
His mission is to protect you now, forever, it seems like it is his destiny. There is something about you, something that brings out an enormous sense of protectiveness. He has seen the flame of determination vanish when you first made eye-contact in that corridor.
Sihtric looks at you for a moment longer, revelling in the warmth and the feel of your body against his.
You, other than he himself, even smell nice, like chamomile and parchment. From time to time he can feel you shudder, the little clothing, the robe you are wearing, not shielding you from the cold of the winter. He wishes he would have given you his coat earlier, but right now it is too late and he can only provide you warmth with his body.
Once you arrive and once the wound on your calf is looked over and taken care of, he will see that you are provided with a coat and fur to keep you warm.
Another shudder courses through you, your body trembling in his hold.
"I've got you," he assures you, his voice suddenly so very soft and calm, and you offer a hesitant nod.
The horse carries you through the landscape at a not too fast pace, allowing you to take in the surroundings — snow covered landscape, looming mountains, and weathered trees. You have never been out here.
"You are safe now." You feel his hand move from your waist to your hip, no longer gripping you so tightly.
"And you don't ever need to fear again." It is another young man whose voice you suddenly hear and your head whips to the side. He is wearing a soft smile, one of your sister's is seated behind him on the horse, both her arms wrapped around his torso. "None of you needs to fear, you are safe now."
You find yourself nodding at him, his kindness warming your chest a little bit.
"Osferth," he whispers and you tell him your own name in a silent voice. "Y/N."
With the tilt of his head, and an empathetic smile on his lips, he urges his horse to move faster, past you. Your eyes stay on your covent sister and the man for a moment longer, until you look back at the head of the horse you sit atop.
The landscape starts to darken in the distance and you find yourself wondering if you will stop soon, and build up so tents where you can sleep in. But then you actually don't know if they even have tents with them. You don't know where they normally sleep. But the one thing you know is that you will never sleep in your bed ever again. And that unsettles you — you will never have the comfort of your once safe space again. It will never be the same again, you will never have your old life again.
It is almost like he can feel his distress, leaning in the slightest bit closer.
"Would you like to go faster as well?" Sihtric inquires, his grip on your hip tightening slightly.
You nod and he signals the horse to pick up the pace, and it obeys, galloping across the snow-covered land with newfound speed.
In order to keep you safe, he pulls you even closer, and the sensation is exhilarating. There is no space between your bodies, and for a moment you think you can feel his heart beat through his skin and leathery armour.
You've always been afraid of riding, but right now, you're completely lost in the moment—galloping across the land, drawing closer to the edge of the forest. You feel free, alive, all of a sudden as the cool wind whips across your face, through your hair and feels your lungs.
And then—
Frustration surges through you as you abruptly come to a halt.
Everyone has stopped, slowly climbing of their horses. It almost seems like this all works without any conversation passing between them.
Without hesitation, Sihtric shifts behind you, letting go off your waist and also dismounts his horse.
You watch, eyes wide open and wary, how people start to hurdle around, gathering and collecting things. Everyone is tasked with something, many collecting firewood, some already starting to build up tents. You don't even know where to look, there is so much happening.
"Y/N?"
Slowly you turn your head to the sound. Your name from his lips is like the most beautiful song you've ever heard, it brushes your skin, your terribly cold and pebbled skin, like a feather.
Sihtric extends his hand for you to follow suit. "Let me help you dismount the horse."
He watches you closely as you reach for his hand, trembling, cold fingers curling around his.
You don't know how to dismount the horse, still wearing the long robes. You hesitantly, and with great difficulty pull your leg over the back of the horse, and suddenly—
You lose your balance and start to slide and eventually fall, but before you can hit the ground, he swiftly wraps his arm around your waist, catching you, clasping you tightly to his body. "I got you," he once again says, carefully placing you on the ground, allowing you to regain your footing. You take a deep breath and look up at him, offering a mumbled thank you. Your eyes lock.
"Always," he replies with a sincere look in his eyes, and a smile tugs at your lips. You want him to see how grateful you are what he is doing for you, but you can't find the right words.
"I will see that someone looks over your wound, then we will find you warm clothing and a place you can sleep tonight." He steps away, extends his arm to show you the way to…
#sihtric kjartansson#sihtric#sihtric x you#sihtric x reader#the last kingdom#the last kingdom sihtric#tlk#tlk fanfic
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Okay I see your "if Hobie and Noir meet they would be besties and punch nazis together" and I totally agree with that! But also consider:
Hobie is Spider Noir's biggest fanboy!
Like in the comics he's like a HUGE Gwen Stacy stan and he's such a goofy little dork about it. In ATSV him and Gwen's relationship is more like chill friends, and I'm okay with that. But I think it be so funny that when Hobie was recruted into Spiderverse society and Miguel was showing him all the other universes with the different Spiderman variants he pauses by the computer screen with that one gritty black and white universe cuz he just saw some guy in a fedora and trench coat PUNCH A FUCKING NAZI!!! WHO IS THAT GUY?!?! HE'S SO COOL!!!
He asks Miguel a million and one question about the guy and when the old grump annoyingly shoos him away he asks Peter as he briefly met him during that one incident in Miles is dimension. When that still isn't enough he asks Lyla to tell him everything she knows on Noir. Now obviously Lyla has no obligation to do this but she's also never seen Hobie this giddy and excited over something other then music. Its adorable, he's almost like a little kid wanting to know everything about their favorite cartoon. Also she low key likes to annoy Miguel and Hobie's rebellious spirit that gets under her straight laced boss is skin which is hilarious.
You know when Gwen first met Hobie she was a bit intimated cuz he just had that "too cool" vibe about him. But as soon as she mentions that she has worked with other Spider people before, which includes Noir, he did a whole 180 and became a complete dork!
Hobie: Get out, you actually met him! 🤩
Gwen: Uh, yeah?
Hobie: How was he like? What did he say? Did he talk about fascist corruption that not only plagued the system back then but even now as well? Was he super cool during the fight?! 😃🤩💫😻
Gwen: ..........He was nice.
Hobie: That's so rad! ✨️🤟🤩
I also feel like, aside from Miles, Gwen keeps in contact with the other Spider peeps from the first movie and tried to recruit them into the Spider society but obviously Noir and Porker didn't join. Porker because he’s a cartoon that follows "toon logic" and Miguel's ideologies are too serious for his taste. And Noir because, and I quote: "The last I heard of a secret society designed to 'keep the peace for the greater good of humanity at any cost' a whole world war came about it. I know fascism when I see it, kid."
Gwen relays that message to Hobie when explaining why Noir isn't joining and Hobie's response to that is: "He gets it! He just like me fr! 😭💕"
I think it be really cute that in the next movie when they finally meet Hobie is kinda awkward and shy. Like this guy has never respected an adult in his life (at least not any that didn’t deserve the disrespect) and with Noir his all like "Hello sir" "How are you sir" "It's very nice to meet you sir!" And Noir is actually just a really nice guy if a little broody but he's heard so much about this kid from Gwen and how much of a good friend he's been to her so Noir already likes him on principle.
Hobie: Uh Mr. Noir-- Parker, sir! It is such an honor to meet you! The work you do in your universe is amazing and I hope to learn more while working alongside you however briefly.
Noir: Ah, Peter is just fine really, or Noir if it gets to confusing. No need to be so formal, we're all on equal footing here. I've heard a lot about you and your world as well from Gwen. Although it does sadden me that such a young man has to take on the burden of saving the world from such a corrupt society yet again, you're going about it quite well. War is hard and ugly and violent but you are amazingly brave to be able to stand up for what is right in the face of it all. If anybody is honored here it is me, for being able to meet such a remarkable young man like you. And knowing that my friends have made such honorable allies in the midst of all this chaos.
Hobie, externally: Yeah, it's whatevs 😎
Hobie, internally: Dont cry dont cry dont cry dont cry dont cry dont cry dont cry dont cry YOURE GUNNA LOOK SO UNCOOL IF YOU CRY IN FRONT OF HIM NOW 😭💕😭💕😭
I just think it be really cute if they had a wholesome father-son sort of relationship where they shit talk corrupt government systems and punch fascists together. You know, regular father-son bonding!
(Also I think that's another reason Miguel didn't invite Spider Noir to the Spiderverse, cuz he knew that both of these menaces together would cause a bigger headache than its worth 🤣🤣🤣)
#spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse#atsv#spider noir#spider punk#hobie brown#DO NOT TAG AS SHIP!!#father son relationship#spiderman#bunny talks#headcannons#hobie brown is a dork and we should all accept that#Noir is adopting ALL the colorful spider children
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I was just thinking about requesting head canons about the bachelor's with a reader who speaks another language (and honestly, my personal headcanon is that elvish sound like gaeilge/Irish) and the Zevlor headcanon that was just posted convinced me to send it. So here it is. What do the boys think of a partner that speaks another, non common, language?
Hi Wisteria! I'm always happy to see another request from you :)
Personally I love hearing fantasy languages, Tolkien's elvish and it's portrayal in LOTR come to mind. That was definitely something on my mind while writing this, and even if I didn't specify I definitely wrote this with the idea of the reader speaking some form of elvish or celestial in mind. For anyone wondering, the Zevlor headcanon mentioned in the ask would be the 'accidental turn ons for the bachelors' <3
The bachelors with a partner that speaks another language
Dammon
So, I feel like all the tieflings have at least a basic understanding of infernal, Dammon included
He loves calling you by pet names and endearments in infernal
The day you do the same but in a non-common language is the day this man simply passes away from happiness
He completely paused the first time he hears it, before teasingly asking what else you're hiding from him
Dammon loves hearing you speaking another language casually, just like how he speaks bits and pieces of infernal
Over time he starts to pick up on translations of the things you say and will sometimes respond in infernal as a joke
Other people get very confused when they see you two speaking completely different languages to each other, especially if he explains neither of you actually know the other language
Dammon does it specifically to confuse people, sometimes he also says it's a special language for you two
He loves listening to you and could happily do it for hours
Zevlor
Not going to beat around the bush, Zevlor is extremely turned on every time he hears you speak another language
It just fuels something in him, he doesn't even really know the specifics, just that he finds it incredibly attractive
You can tell his full undivided attention is on you every time you're speaking something other than common
If you really want to tease him, lean in behind him and murmur something in his ear
His breath audibly hitches and his whole body does a system reboot right in front of you
Zevlor will absolutely encourage you to speak in another language around him, and picks up on translations quite easily
You'll even hear him saying the occasional word in the language too, the little smile he gives you afterwards is just too sweet
Over time he calms down a bit more, but hearing you never quite loses it's spark
It's always something Zevlor is going to be drawn to
Rolan
Rolan drops something the first time he hears you speaking a different language, it's probably a book that finds itself on the floor
I feel like he'd be pretty fluent in infernal, this man is incredibly smart and is always learning
He's shocked and intrigued when you speak a second language though
As much as he doesn't want to admit it at first, he'd love for you to teach him how to speak the language
In return he'd happily teach you infernal, and Rolans actually a very good teacher
In the end I can see him having some sort of schedule so you can both learn the new language
He insists on learning through exposure too, so common ends up becoming a rarely spoken language between you both
Cal and Lia have a ball of a time teasing you both, in return Rolan will talk to you only in a language they don't understand while around them
He really loves getting to hear you talk in another language, and hearing you teach it is even better
#bri answers#baldurs gate 3#bg3#baldurs gate 3 x reader#bg3 x reader#baldurs gate 3 dammon#bg3 dammon#dammon x reader#baldurs gate 3 zevlor#bg3 zevlor#zevlor x reader#baldurs gate 3 rolan#bg3 rolan#rolan x reader
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omg I LOVED your Drunk Miguel hcs!
Is there any chance of you writing some for the other Spdier people? Especially Spider Noir?
AAAAA SO GLAD TO HEAR THAT ANON ! and ofc, consider it done <333
when drunk noir :>
drunk noir headcanons
ok, the stages in which noir get drunk are: slightly drunk, giggly, undergoing a midlife crisis, lovesick, and sleepy
the slightly sober stage is the stage when noir should really stop drinking. i headcanon that it doesn't take him long to get drunk, like maybe... 3 to 4 shots, and he's entering the slightly drunk stage. he kinda dissociates when he's in this stage, like miguel in the drunk miggy headcanons, he kinda goes quiet and speaks only when spoken to, but it's a whole lotta gibberish that comes out of his mouth instead of coherent words. he'd look like he's staring into space, when actually he's just focusing on how fuzzy the world looks like right now as the liquor is settling in. past this point, you are now entering the harder than manageable peter parker drunk.
his giggly stage is when he's had a couple more than 3 to 4 shots, and he laughs his ass off at the most out of context shit ever. like he sees a little fly on the table and he just chuckles to himself because the liquor is making him think, "oh shit, what a funny fly, it's not purple." and when he's told a joke he laughs THE FUCK out of it, even minutes after the joke was said, he's still laughing about it to the point of tears. if he remembers the joke, he'll laugh about it randomly and not explain at all because he forgets soon after what he was laughing at, like, "wait, haha, why am i, hah, laughing again?" his smile when he's drunk is so fucking precious though
after the laughing fit, he enters the depressing midlife crisis stage. he rambles and mumbles a lot to himself about how shitty his life has been, how he wishes uncle benjamin wasn't... you know, how he really regrets being distant and aloof towards a lot of people he's loved in his life and how he can never catch a break with all the horribleness in his life. he cries during this stage, but it's a quiet kind of crying. like he sniffles a little but when he cries, by default, he isn't loud. he must've learned how to cry without attracting so much attention, because it's only when you pay attention to the right details, his eyes, his nose turning red, his lips quivering, and the small sounds he makes when sobbing that you realize he was crying this whole time.
but after sobbing for a little while, if he's still drinking, his hormones change from the sad and depressing ones to the "i need to be held and to hold someone right now" hormones in the lovesick stage. if you're really close to peter, he'd kinda get a little handsy and talkative, still stuttering gibberish. he'd just go on and on and on about how purple is a pretty color but every color on you is by far the prettiest colors he has ever and will ever witness. he incessantly asks if he can hold your hand or hug you, he just wants to feel your warmth because the alcohol makes him feel colder. when you agree to hug him, omg, you are never going to be let go by him, i swear. like MAN HAS A TIGHT GRIP, EVEN WHEN DRUNK. but he holds you with the intent of making you feel loved, not pained nor burdened, just a gentle reminder he loves you. he gets a little giggly here too, but that's only because he's so happy he's with you right now and you didn't reject him, 'cause if you did, he'd be back in the midlife crisis stage.
and finally, the last stage of them all, when he gets sleepy. nothing much happens in this stage, save for peter just slowly getting tired and just drifting off to sleep, letting the alcohol in his system take him away to dreamland. but his favorite place to sleep is against your shoulder, nothing's more comforting to him than to feel you close next to him as he sleeps, knowing you're there for him for whatever happens while he's knocked out due to his inebriated self.
a/n: sorry i had to give him angst... it's my instinct <:[
tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @connors-cumslurper
#spider noir#spider noir x reader#spider noir x you#spider noir x y/n#spider noir fluff#itsv#itsv imagines#itsv x you#itsv x reader#itsv x y/n
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