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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 2 months

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≡;-꒰ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍

╰┈➤ ❝ rafayel x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : softdom!rafayel, hints of switch!rafayel, reader is hesitant with intimacy, descriptions of self-esteem issues and general insecurities, mentions/implications of toxic relationships, implications of dubcon (not with rafayel), praise and reassurance, kissing and making out, heavy petting, first time sex (with each other) (no virginity loss), masturbation (f), oral (m. receiving), vaginal sex, cowgirl and missionary positions, unprotected sex, creampie, soft sex, use of pet names "cutie" "princess" "baby", references to card "fiery undercurrents", lmk if i missed any tags !! ((unedited))

wc : 7.9k (help me)

youtiful masterlist

a late birthday os for our favorite deep sea painter! ✨

You jumped at your phone, nearly gasping at the caller ID that flashed on your screen.

"Rafayel!"

Your grip on your phone was tight, held against your ear with an immediate burst of excitement.

It had been days.

You knew how it was, of course—an artist's inspiration was often sporadic and fleeting, and you'd even lost count of the number of times Rafayel had told you that. How essential it was to grab the spark of creativity before it you lose it; how paramount it was to focus on your flow before it disappeared... It was ingrained in the forefront of your mind, by now.

And even more than that, if Rafayel had always been one to speak of the elusiveness of inspiration, then Thomas had always been one to insist you leave him and his stroke of genius alone whenever he called for it.

You didn't understand much about the world of artists, so it was natural for you to take their words to heart, but it hadn't been easy.

Rafayel, being Rafayel, would always send you texts and updates, never failingly missing a single day... But it had been days since you'd last heard his voice at all—much less seen him. Now, marking a week sinve you'd been to his studio at all, you were pacing back and forth in your apartment, wondering how long you had to wait, and if maybe you should take a chance and visit him yourself—

But you didn't want to be selfish.

In fact, you quite despised being needy at all—with a quiet laugh, you thought, that was usually the role that Rafayel would play in your relationship. You wouldn't think to take it from him.

Yet, now, your phone rang, and the ever-familiar sound of his voice brought on a wave of butterflies in your stomach that had your mood lifting in seconds.

"Heeyyy there, cutie!"

In the background, you could make out the faint sounds of metal against concrete in the background, and your ears perked.

"Is... that your ladder? Have you finished your painting?"

"Yeah! It really took a while, this one... But Thomas'll be happy to know that it's finally finished! ...That is, if I could get ahold of him..."

You carefully sat on the edge of your bed, swinging your legs in sheer happiness at his little ramblings.

"...And, actually, I kind of need your help."

You blinked.

"Hm? Help? With what?"

"Well, you know how I told you it's been kind of a while since I last cleaned this place...?"

"...Yes..."

"Are you free now?"

"Rafayel, you can't mean...?"

"Yeah! Can you come over and help me clean?"

You couldn't believe his first thought with this call was to ask you for your cleaning services. You strained to hear the familiar tease in his voice, even waited for a moment for some kind of "Just kidding!" or whatever else that could tell you he wasn't being serious—

You felt your eyes narrow in disapproval when you found nothing.

"Rafayel, I'm not your maid, you know."

Not even an "I missed you", not even a " Want to hang out later?".

"Yeaaahh.... But you're my bodyguard, right?" The hopeful tone in his voice now would have made you laugh.... In other circumstances.

"What does that have to do with anything?!" There was a laugh, then, on the other side of the line, and you huffed. "Rafayel, don't joke with me—"

"Look! I told you, right? Thomas won't answer me, and, seriously! The studio's a mess. I really need some help... Please?"

He was laughing completely now, and the sound brought over that same, very familiar ripple of butterflies, despite all the odds.

You caved.

"This is labor abuse, Rafa. Of your own girlfriend, might I add!" You hmphed, but stood up from your bed, haphazardly gathering your things into a purse and walking out of your flat. "Fine. I'm on my way there."

"Oh, you really are the best girlfriend I could ever have wished for! Thanks, princess! See ya!"

Not even a "stay safe"!

You wondered if this was what Rafayel felt whenever you were late to receive his calls or to reply to hia texts, and you sighed.

Is he just trying to get back at me...?

Regardless, he made up for his actions by immediately twirling you over with a kiss the minute you knocked on his door, and you smiled.

"Nice to see you again, princess," he grinned.

You thought you could never have wanted to see his smile as much as you did now—

But you couldn't bring yourself to admit that to him.

"Would've been better if you said that when you called me, huh?" You rolled your eyes playfully, shoving him aside and scanning the space in front of you.

He hadn't been lying.

Paint had been scattered around, well past the patches of safety paper he usually had lying all over his studio. While you were used to seeing the place mostly messy, anyway, this seemed a lot less like the organized mess you were used to. What's more, the painting wasn't even in this room anymore, and god knows where he'd put it now to dry.

You turned towards him with the raise of an eyebrow.

"Geez, Rafayel... This place looks like it's been through a hell hole. What were you doing?"

"Painting."

He shrugged, ever nonchalant and casual, only as if stating the obvious—that clearly being so engrossed in your painting would result in such a mess, and that clearly—he handed over a bundle of cleaning supplies—this was a very normal way of greeting your significant other.

You sighed.

You supposed, nothing was ever truly normal with him, anyway.

By the time you had finished, the sun that peeked through his windows bathed his studio into a golden glow. You settled onto the couch beside him, silent as he rubbed soothing circles into your shoulder, your head resting contently on his shoulder.

"You're rich, Rafayel," you mumbled, a little tiredly. "Why can't you just hire a maid if you don't want to clean things yourself?"

"And where do you think I'd find one I could trust enough to let near my paintings?"

The scoff in his voice made your lips quirk into a smile, and you tilted your head up to look at him.

...Ah.

Your breath caught in your throat when your eyes met, the gentle mix of red and purple hues in his eyes once again having you transfixed. His hair was slightly unruly from the work you'd both done, but the sunset rays streaming in from the window had little specks of sunlight painting his tresses in such a way that had you utterly mesmerized.

He chuckled slightly.

"Cat got your tongue, princess?"

You could barely bring yourself to mumble a response when he leaned in, shifting your positions just enough to have you lying on your back against the couch. Half of his weight rest over you, and you could feel it; his heartbeat against yours. You could almost amazed feel at the comfort in your synchronicity.

He sighed, brushing your hair out of your face. "...Why haven't you been to the studio?" he mumbled.

His words pulled you out of your reverie, and immediately, you felt your heart sink.

"...I thought... I thought you'd be busy..." Your voice came out meek, already searching his eyes anxiously. "Thomas told me not to disturb you, a-and I thought, maybe, you didn't want to be interrupted? I know how hard it's been for you to finish that painting..."

You swallowed thickly.

"Yeah, that might be true..." Rafayel nuzzled your nose affectionately, succeeding in soothing your nerves down to a certain degree. "But what if I wanted to see you, too?"

"...You... You usually just ask..."

Your words were met with silence, and you squirmed under the intensity of his gaze.

"Rafayel—"

"But you can't expect me to be the one asking for you all the time, right?"

Something at the back of your mind told you he didn't mean it that way, but his words stung nonetheless. The disapproval in his pout made your stomach churn. The atmosphere had, to you, become a little weightier, and your chest felt heavy with guilt.

You promised you wouldn't make him wait... But didn't you, in the end? Some useless game of seeing who'd cave first?

Your gaze shifted away from him, and you played with the hem of your shirt.

"Sorry, Rafa, I didn't mean to upset you... I-I don't know much about art, and I didn't want to bother you, and—god, actually, maybe it was stupid of me to just rely on Thomas' words instead of asking you, I'm such a terrible girlfriend—"

Tears began to well up in your eyes as you spoke, but before you could proceed any further, you felt the soft sensation of lips upon yours.

You blinked your tears away rapidly, refocusing to meet his, parting your lips slightly in shock when he pulled away.

"Don't say that, princess." He shook his head, and there was a ghost of a smile on his face. "You're not a terrible girlfriend. You're perfect, actually, and... I'm partly to blame. It was wrong of me to test you like that... You're right. I should have just asked."

You drew in a breath.

Perhaps, it was because your roles had been reversed today; perhaps, it was because you'd been so anxious to see him again that even the slightest signs of any conflict had you feeling like walking on eggshells. But it was rare for you to see him take the situation at hand so maturely, and it did well for the tenseness in your shoulders to melt away.

He moved his hand back into your hair, soft, gentle strokes, if only to soothe you further away from your worries.

"...Well, actually, maybe we both are a little stupid. I... kind if made the studio messy on my own."

Your ears perked up with that, and you looked at him curiously.

Rafayel laughed.

"It wasn't that bad when I'd finished! And I wasn't lying, I had been neglecting the studio, I just..."

When his voice trailed off, you found the courage to speak again.

"Did you.... Make an excuse to bring me here?"

He smiled, bringing his lips over to the top of your head, another one on your temple, and then another one over the corner of your eye.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I missed you a lot. I guess I just got creative... A little too much, anyway."

His lips were on yours again the next second, soft pecks that made your heart soar with glee. You wrapped your arms slowly around his neck, barely registering the way he'd pulled himself over you, feeling safe under the weight of his body—you liked this. And you missed it, being close with him, having a few moments to yourselves just to revel in each other's warmth.

With half-lidded eyes, he pulled back for air, panting softly over your skin.

"...You really could have just asked me," you whispered, gazing into his eyes and allowing yourself to get lost in them once more.

He let out a soft laugh. "Hm, yeah. Buuuut, maybe I thought this would be more interesting... And maybe, then, you could stay the night, too..."

His eyes flickered closed as he ran his hands through your hair once more, bringing a lock up to his face and letting out a sigh.

"You used that shampoo again."

You faltered slightly at his words, but he pressed you against the couch, capturing your lips into a deeper kiss.

...That shampoo.

You knew exactly what he was referring to.

The last time he'd noticed this scent on you, the way he'd pressed his lips against yours had been anything but innocent—it was one of the first times the both of you had made out together, the hairdryer and towel that had started the whole ordeal then long-forgotten beside you. The mere thought of that night brought an undeniable flush to your face, an all-too-familiar tingling sensation breaking throughout your body.

And you knew what he was insinuating. Even as he continued to kiss you, and even as you felt yourself easily melting into him the way that you would.

His hand began to roam your body, slowly stroking down your sides, making their way to your thigh and inching closer, closer, to the heat of your clothed core—

Your breath hitched.

You couldn't control it.

It was like instinct, whatever this conflict of mind and body really was—

You immediately reached out to grab his wrist, and his reaction was immediate. In an instant, his lips were off of yours, and he froze in place, wide eyes searching yours.

"Shit," he whispered. "Princess, I'm sorry— Did I— Did I go something wrong—"

Though breathless and panting, your lips quivered, and your grip on his wrist tightened.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Slowly, you felt him peel himself off of you, sitting up carefully... And you took in a deep breath.

"R-Rafayel, I..."

The waver in your voice and the alarm that had found its way into your eyes weren't missed by him, and you turned your head. "I'm sorry," you swallowed thickly. "I... I don't think i can do this right now..."

You felt feeble and small as you moved to draw your knees up to your chest, almost as if with the intention of hiding yourself away. "I... M-maybe, just... Not tonight...?"

When you sneaked a glance back up at him, you could see it. That glimmer of hurt in his eyes, perhaps just barely there, but more noticeable to you than anything else. You were also made painfully aware of the sun that had set, the studio now darker into the night—a cold draft blew in through the windows and made you shiver, and now, you felt incredibly small.

Rafayel, however, gave you another soft smile, gently moving to sit with your legs over his lap, resorting to holding your hand in his gently.

"Okay," he said.

And it was so simple the way he accepted your rejection, so devoid of judgement, that it made you feel...

Guilty.

Even guiltier than you already were to begin with.

"...I'm sorry, Rafa, I—"

He shook his head, giving your hand another squeeze.

"No, that's... Well, also on me. I should have asked you about this first, too..." The regret in his voice made you want to hit something. "It's okay. We don't have to do anything today. I'll wait until you're ready, princess."

...He'll wait?

Quietly, you moved to crawl back towards him, snuggling into his chest.

This wasn't the first time he had tried to go further with you. That night, after drying your hair, had been one of such times, and it wasn't as if you didn't want to take the next step in your relationship.

In fact, you wanted it just as much as he did.

You've fantasized about it for nights on end, laying on your bed, fingers playing with your clit and imagining how well his hands would have worked you, how well his cock would have stretched you out and filled you up far better than your fingers ever could. You lost count, how many times you'd come undone, alone on your bed, having his name spill from your lips as you did.

You wanted so badly for him to ravage you.

But thinking of it was incredibly different from having the situation at hand right in front of you.

You were nervous.

There were so, so many things that could go wrong from just exposing yourself to him as you would have if you did go that far—just as so, so many things had already gone wrong the last time you had, with other people.

You buried your face into his chest, pressing against him, drowning yourself in his warmth.

"...Are you mad?" You whispered.

"Me? Why would I be, when you're cuddling me like this so tightly?" The playfulness in his voice chased enough of your worries for you to let out a little laugh. "Just so you know... I'm perfectly fine with this."

You shifted, tilting your head to look up at him.

Rafayel gently poked at your nose.

"I can't be mad at you, princess, just because you said no to me. There are other ways for us to be affectionate, and I don't need to have sex with you, you know?"

"...But you want to?" Your voice remained meek, still very obviously wanting to hide yourself back into his shirt. And you would have, if he hadn't pried you away, hands firmly over your arms, leaning down to study your gaze.

"R-Rafa—"

"I want to, princess, but only if you want to. And I need to make that super, suuper clear to you, because I won't be forcing you into anything you don't want. 'Kay?"

His words sent a flurry of comfort into your stomach.

"...But... But what if I make you wait too long? You dislike waiting... A-and it's normal, anyway, right? For couples to have sex? If we don't, then..." As you spoke, you noticed a frown frown gradually form over his face, and you faltered.

"You... You expect me to leave because of this?"

You turned your gaze away in silence.

"Princess... You... May I ask where that's coming from? Do... Do you feel unloved with me? Am I doing something wrong?"

It was like a trigger—the way his voice dropped into a soft whisper, his hands falling back down to take yours in his, lacing your fingers together.

He was so gentle with you.

You felt the unwelcome sting of tears in your eyes, and you shook your head—"N-no," you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut. "You've done nothing wrong, but... But you're so—so nice to me, Rafayel..."

"...Baby? Of course I'm nice to you! Aren't you my girlfriend?!"

The nickname switch made your heart jump, and you nuzzled yourself further into his embrace.

"...I don't deserve you."

A pause.

You felt as if you could drown in the silence, even though you knew that he was just thinking of what to say.

"I'm sorry, I just made things worse—"

"...Deserve me? There's... there's nothing for you to say that—princess, that's my line, you know. You deserve everything—every little good thing out there, and so much more than me."

"But—! You—you're so good to me, and I'm—! How many times did I disappoint you? This whole week, and even just now, and—"

You felt yourself sniffling, and Rafayel once again brought you to look up at him. You chewed on your bottom lip, a flash of insecurity in your eyes that made him sigh softly.

"No, no, no... Don't cry, princess... Nothing's going to change just because of this, yeah? You know I love you. And nothing in the way that I love you is tied to... whatever ways you'll allow me to love you. I get it, you know? If you're not ready to go there yet, then that's fine. I promise. I don't make promises without reason, princess."

His gaze, now, was firm, and his words were warm. Genuine—like he always was with you. In the silence that followed, you felt yourself calm down slightly, your breath easing, the tears in your eyes blinked away in your insistence not to cry in front of him.

And more than anything, you found thr conviction in his words to be something you could... Trust.

You took in a deep breath.

"I've... I've done this a couple of times before," you spoke, slowly, quietly. "It's been a while since the last time, but— it's— it's just scary, Rafa."

Your voice trembled, and you hung your head.

"And I feel like it's so silly to be scared of it. It's always so obvious that I am, because I get too focused on trying to relax that I never really do, and then in the end I can only ever make up for it by letting them finish. So I— I don't know. Everyone says that couples always do this, like it's supposed to be a staple... Or else, what are they for, right?"

You let out a dry, sarcastic laugh, but it almost came out as if you were scolding yourself.

"Wait—hold on. You... You've never orgasmed?"

You blinked in surprise this time, looking up at him with a confused frown. "Huh? Only on my own, I guess... Never with them, no, but—"

"Oh, princess..." he began, almost like a whisper. "You've never enjoyed it, have you...? To call it a staple... Gosh. It's not something necessary to maintain a relationship, let's get that out of your pretty head first."

You watched him bring his hand over to the side of your face, a gentle caress.

"I don't know if humans really do think such fickle things, but I wouldn't leave you just because you won't go further with me. I want you to be ready before we go there. Okay? God, who have you been with?! They sound like the worst kind of humans!"

Despite yourself, you laughed at his indignation, watching him fall back against the couch with his arms crossed.

"No, seriously, baby—doesn't it sound wrong to you?! You know, I wouldn't have stopped until you came. In fact, I bet I could make you feel so much better than they ever could—" He paused, ears turning slightly red in telltale embarrassment. "...Sorry. I'll be totally patient, I really mean it. I was just, you know... saying..."

You giggled.

Rafayel was always cute when he was embarrassed, even if just a few moments ago, he'd so obviously reduced you to just a puddle through his kissses alone.

But his words, once again, made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. When you looked at him, his eyes were as gentle as the waves of the ocean you'd grown to love almost as much as him, and you couldn't help but feel... safe.

You'd never really felt safe before—not with anyone else.

Any time you opened up about this, your previous partners would have scoffed in your face—would have told you there couldn't have been a basis for what you felt, and that there was nothing more irrational than all of these needless worries of yours.

It was silly.

You had always believed that.

Yet you couldn't help feeling the way that you did.

Whenever you experienced sexual intimacy with anyone else, though you had let it happen in the end, you had never... associated it with anything special. Like you'd said, it only ever felt a mandatory part of any relationship. It was like going through the motions, and then you'd find out that you'd been a terrible experience—no matter how pretty they said you were, no matter how much you'd always be told that they were looking forward to it.

You were disappointing.

That was what conclusion you'd come up with, after several times of the same result.

And you always envied your friends, too.

Whenever the topic came up, they'd speak of how magical it was—how sweet, and how loving, and how good it felt... Yet you'd felt none of that. If there was anything good you associated with sex at all, it had been you—by yourself—in your room.

You really didn't know how to reconcile all of these feelings together—

And, yet, Rafayel had been the very first one to let it slide in a way that put your feelings first.

You promised him you wouldn't make him wait...

Yet here he was, adamant on letting you do exactly that.

You looked up at him, again, listening to him guide the conversation elsewhere, talking about how his week had been, and how painful it had been to get that painting done.

"You haven't seen it yet, have you? Hmm... I'm thinking if I should show you. I guess my girlfriend can have early access to it before the exhibition, right...?" He had one hand resting on your back, the other brought up to his chin in thought. "What do you think? Do you want to see it now?"

You stared, silently, as his eyes were back on yours.

That familiar, adorable tilt of his head, the inquisitive gaze in his eyes bringing that familiar shine to it that you loved, loved, loved, so very dearly.

You watched a small smile form on his features, and he pulled you close enough to have your foreheads touch.

"Hey. What's on your mind, cutie? You're spacing out again. Everything okay?"

God. You really loved him.

Even the simplest phrase had the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around almost mercilessly, and if you hadn't known better, you thought you were very likely blushing in that moment.

"Just you," you spoke, softly, quietly, barely even registering that you'd spoken so honestly in front of him before you recognized the look of surprise on his face. "Shit—I mean—"

"Nuh-uh, no take-backs! I like it when you're honest," he cut you off with a laugh, placing a quick peck on your lips.

Though he didn't say anything more on the subject, you knew he was thinking it—even if you'd tease, endlessly, of Rafayel's own clingier habits, you knew that in the end that you could easily eat your own words.

Rafayel was so good to you.

Sometimes you'd think he was too good to you—too good for you.

But admitting it out loud was always so difficult to you; your honesty of your own overwhelming feelings for him often more than you could speak to him yourself.

He reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ears.

"Maybe we should go to sleep, yeah? It's pretty late. You've worked hard!"

Slowly, you moved to straddle his lap, and then buried your face into his neck.

"...Princess..."

"...Are you really okay with this, Rafa?"

"Me? I told you, I'm perfectly fi—"

"I just—I could make you feel good, at least..."

Maybe you'd let him consume your thoughts more than you'd intended, or maybe the guilt was simply eating away at you, having never been truly placated. You didn't know which side of emotions you were acting upon, and perhaps, it seemed as if he'd sensed that.

"Baby... No. We're not going to do it tonight. I want you to set your mind straight first."

"But—"

"No buts!"

He lifted you off of his lap, another firm shake of his head. "I want to ease you into this. And that means I won't be taking any pleasure for my own just yet, because I want you to feel good."

"...Wh- What do you...?"

He smiled, before poking your forehead.

"I mean, I want you to be comfortable around me first, before you even think of trying to give me an orgasm." Rafayel gave your hand another squeeze. "I'm hoping I can at least show you that it's not supposed to be a bad experience. So we'll sleep on it first, clear our heads, take things slowly... Then we'll see how things go from there. 'Kay?"

"Rafa..."

"Baby, relax. No rush. I'm not going anywhere."

Rafayel was always so good to you.

Even through your biggest insecurities, there would be no exception.

It had been quite some time since that conversation, and, sure enough, he had been adamant on taking things slower with you. You could feel it, how he'd constantly hold himself back with you. The way he would be sure not to take it too far when he kissed you, always respectfully lifting you off of his lap whenever he felt like it would get too much if you continued...

He took things step by step, just like he said he would. From kisses, to slowly dipping his hands beneath your clothes—You had found, over the past couple of days, how warm his hands were around your breasts, cupping and kneading them like a perfect fit. It was comfortable. And it had become almost a staple to your cuddling sessions over time.

Those nights in his bed slowly, slowly became less than innocent as weeks passed by.

And then one other night, you'd finally gained the courage to let him go even further. His fingers were long, able to reach deeper inside of you than you ever could, and the stretch in your walls felt more than welcome after so long. It was just as you'd fantasized—he'd buried his fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt, slow thrusts gradually picking up the pace until you were trembling around him, his arms holding you safe as you released. Even now, when you thought back to that night, you felt tingles all over your body. It was the first time anyone had made you cum, the first time anyone had bothered to cradle you in their arms afterwards, the first time anyone had cleaned you up without you having to do it yourself—

You hadn't known that this could really feel so intimate.

So loving.

That Rafayel could ease all your worries away, so... naturally.

It had gotten to the point that you began to notice a boldness in both of your actions—you were growing more comfortable with him, like he'd intended you to, and now, you found yourself gladly on your knees, feeling the drag of his cock against the walls of your mouth.

He'd gotten you to cum from his fingers and his mouth multiple times over the past few days, and you had promised him—promised him—that you were only returning the favor because you wanted to. Because through the past weeks, Rafayel had been gentle with you, and patient—always asking for your consent, never pushing you to do anything you didn't want to, never even giving a thought to his own pleasure as long as it meant focusing on yours.

And this, you thought to yourself with a smile, was now a reward for for him just as much as it was for you.

Your eyes closed as you swirled circles over the tip of his length, taking your time with him as he often did with you. Your tongue ran up and over his cock, wetting him fully becore taking him in again, keening at the way his hips would stutter and his moans would reach your ears in a well-received melody.

"Fuck, yeah—Just like that, princess—" Rafayel's words were broken, his eyes half lidded as he watched you work him. "So good for me, baby—ngh, shit—"

You found his praises go straight to your core, eager to please him, eager to hear more. And in effect, your pace quickened, bobbing your head up and down his shaft, stroking and sucking him with a new hunger. His hands tangled in your hair, the sensation more than welcome as he guided you into a rhythm, hips bucking upwards to meet your mouth.

"So, so good— Feels so good, princess, don't stop—"

Another tug on your hair had you moaning against him, feeling him throb in your mouth at the extra stimulation.

He was close.

Determined to take in the sight, you watched, fondly, as his head fell back into the pillows, the skin of his thigh hot to the touch, your eyes drawn to the way his mouth hung open, his own eyes squeezing shut.

"Shit— M'gonna—! Gonna cum, baby, pleas—"

He arched his back, his hands fleeing from your hair to fist into the sheets beneath him. It hit in an instant, then—the sheer intensity having rendered him silent, mouthing curses, eyes still shut as streaks of cum shot out of him and onto your tongue.

You were familiar with the taste; warm in your mouth, and salty—thick. There was a certain discomfort to it, swallowing every last drop, but it couldn't compare to the thrill of it. Having Rafayel finally cum in your mouth, finally come undone for you... Your eyes locked as you released him with a wet 'pop', licking your lips and then hastily wiping your mouth with a little smile.

"Damn... That was..." He was breathless, chest heaving, barely moving to allow you to climb back up on the bed and reach for the bottle of water on his nightstand. "You're really... Really good at that, princess."

Feeling warm at another word of praise from him, you exchanged the bottle for the washcloth beside it, and crawled over to gently pat him clean.

"...Baby, I can—"

"If you won't let me do it when I finish, then I won't let you, either."

Your gaze was firm, and he laughed.

"Well played. My habits are growing on you, huh, cutie? That's good."

He pulled you up into his arms for a kiss, and you snuggled into his embrace. The heat from his skin was comforting—another thing you'd slowly gotten used to, having your activities now easily practiced without the need for any more clothes on.

"...How are you feeling? Was that okay?" He mumbled into your hair as you buried your face into his chest, lifting your leg over him as if to draw him even closer to you. You nodded quietly, and a soft sigh escaped his lips when you brushed your wetness against his still-sensitive cock. "Princess... Did sucking me off get you all wet?"

You could hear the laugh in his voice, and you whined.

"You— you made me wait to do that!" You protested, and you didn't need to look up to know he had that ever-present smirk on his face. "...I wanted to make you cum, too..."

He only replied with a chuckle, trailing his hand down your back to settle upon your waist. "I know. And thank you, by the way. Your mouth feels heavenly. Did you know that?"

You swat at his arm playfully. "Rafayel!"

"What? I'm only saying the truth! And, anyway..." You squealed when he leaned over to nip at your earlobe, completely sure of how flushed you were in that moment. "You're drenched, so which one will it be? My tongue? My fingers? My thigh?"

When you didn't reply immediately, he gently gave you squeeze. "Or do you want to sleep it off? We don't have to do anything if you—"

"N- no!"

You looked up, pouting, and found that the mirth in his gaze had melted away into one of pure adoration.

"I... I think..." You gulped, your eyes traveling downward to where you rest over him.

Your heart beat wildly in your chest.

You would have been lying if you said you hadn't been thinking about it on a constant—how he would feel inside you. And though you'd thought about it generally before, you found yourself warming up to the idea. Craving it, even, in a way you hadn't before.

You raised your head to meet his eyes again, holding your breath as you moved to straddle him, sliding your folds over his cock gently.

The moan that he let out was music to his ears, but when his hands gripped your waist tightly, you stopped.

"Fuck, wait—are you sure, princess?"

You smiled slightly at that.

Truly, Rafayel had been nothing but gentle with you; nothing but patient.

You nodded.

"I-I mean... Only if you want to? But you just came, right...? S-so, maybe not... Sorry, I don't mean to be needy, you can just—"

"Hey, hey. Deep breaths for me first, baby, yeah? Relax."

Immediately, his hands were rubbing soothingly into your sides, and you fell forward onto his chest, holding him close.

"Don't you worry about being needy with me, I don't think I'm any less needier than you, anyway," he laughed. "I want this. I really want this. But, princess... I need to know that you aren't forcing yourself into it."

You remained silent, only managing a nod.

"Look at me?"

Compliant, you raised your head once more, and Rafayel reached over to thread his fingers through your hair. He smiled.

"Verbal consent, princess. I've given you mine. Now, I need your confirmation before we do anything. Have you decided? Do you want me?"

Your heart swelled in your chest.

You didn't know how Rafayel could be so selfless with you.

None of the others you've been with would ever treat you this way, and it was... new.

It was true, what he said—it wasn't a secret to you how much he wanted you. Though he wouldn't say it, so determined not to make you feel pressured, you'd see it in the way he looked at you. The way he touched you. Even the way he spoke with you—always the more vocal one in terms of clinginess, even though you, yourself, secretly enjoyed his attention.

You'd understood from the start that he was doing his best to stay firm in his self control just for you, and it made you feel warm—Loved. Appreciated.

Even now, as you were sitting on his cock, readjusting your position only to have it poke against your back—he was patiently waiting for your answer. He was waiting for you to be sure about this.

You thought it ironic, almost.

It wasn't as if this was your first time, and yet... you'd never experienced someone be so gentle with you.

With another determined nod, you sat back up, placing your hands on your lap.

"Okay," you said, and took a deep breath. "I'm sure, Rafayel. I want you."

You swore you could feel the way his cock twitched at your words, and couldn't help the way your lips quirked into another smile.

He read your expression, and laughed. "You really drive me insane, princess."

His hands remained firm on your hips, gently lifting you off—"Do you want to stay on top? Set your pace for me?"

"...Um... Do you?"

"Baby, don't turn this back to me! Doesn't matter what I want right now, I wanna make this about you. In case you haven't noticed, I'd be more than happy to take you in any way you want me to."

You almost rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "...Okay, then... I'll try it like this. But, Rafayel, sometimes it's concerning how much you pay attention to my needs..."

"Me? Concerning? Says the one who's had some of the worst sexual experiences on the planet!" He scoffed. "Listen, princess. I say this a lot, but you understand, right? I'm not in this relationship for your body. I'm not using you for your body. I love you, because you're you, and not just so I get to fuck you some day." He paused, then, and you saw a flash of contemplation in his eyes, "...Which miiiight be today, but that's besides the point."

You laughed, this time, and perhaps in any other situation, you'd playfully hit his chest, and tell him to stop being so silly. But the lighthearted atmosphere was welcome, and you felt your shoulders slump in some sort of relief.

"I know, Rafa. I..." You bit your lip, steeling yourself, willing yourself to say it. "I... I-I love you, too."

Immediately, you watched his eyes widen, a certain shine in them that almost could have made you melt.

"...Seriously?" he whispered. "You mean it?"

You flushed at the way he sounded so much in disbelief, despite what you were about to do. But, perhaps, you understood the shock that he displayed. While he would often use the words around you—having made it clear that they were his feelings, and that you didn't have to reciprocate them immediately—you had yet to say it back.

You did love him.

Of course you did.

And you have, for a while now.

But it wasn't easy to speak these feelings out loud; wasn't easy to make yourself so affectionate and so vulnerable around him. At least, not as easy as it has been for him. It had been long established that Rafayel was the more expressive one—though he would tone things down with playful jokes and banter to match your pace of things, you knew that his feelings had been nothing but genuine for you.

And you'd always struggled to make sure that he knew you felt the same, but...

You nodded.

You could do it, this time. Give back all the love that he'd always given you.

Slowly, you reached behind you to guide his cock to your entrance, letting out a slow breath at the feeling of his tip—hot, and wet, and stiff—prodding your hole.

"I love you," you whispered, feeling confident, now, as you spoke.

His fingers dug into your skin as he gasped, finally having you slowly lower yourself down onto his cock. "Fuck," he muttered. His eyes closed—you could tell he was fighting the urge to thrust up into you. "You feel so... so..."

A loud whine rattled past your lips when he finally pressed all the way inside of you, so big, and so filling, like nothing else you've ever had before.

"Shit," he continued to curse under his breath. "So—so good, baby."

His hands, shaky, massaged your hips in reassurance, eyes opening to reveal a hazy glimmer of lust that you had yet to see on his face before. The image before you made you shiver—every ounce of self control was slowly slipping away from him, and he was trembling with the little bit of patience he still had left in his body.

"M-move," he whimpered, looking up at you with pleading eyes that made you gasp. "Please, princess—please—can you do that for me?"

Your jaw clenched, and you obliged—how could you resist?

You rocked your hips slowly, at first, getting used to the feeling of him in side you. And, you found—you were enjoying this. Whatever you'd imagined could never compare; he felt good inside you. Every sensation you felt of his cock against your center was pleasurable, every moan that fell from his lips having you swirl your hips with a need to hear more.

You bit your lip when he slowly began to rut his hips up to meet your pelvis, now finding the strength to guide your hips gently up and down his length—

"Fuck, baby, don't hide from me, please," he moaned, eyes locking with yours with an air of desperation. "Haah—Let me hear you—hear how good it feels—'s it feel good, princess?"

You found yourself obedient.

As his tip knocked up against your sensitive spot, a loud moan spilled from your lips—immediately, you rest your hands on his chest as your head hung, feeling yourself bounce to his rhythm, hips moving in sync.

"F-feels good, 'fayel— Ah—!"

"Yeah? Like that, baby? That spot, huh?"

You grinded down on his cock, eyes screwing shut at the sound of your arousal slicking around him. His words guided you through your motions, whisperes of praise and reassurance that had you soaring—and you could feel it. The tightness that had gathered in your stomach, slowly, slowly building into something more—but so far away, so unobtainable, that it had you whining.

"R-Rafayel!" You cried as you leaned forward, burying your face into his chest. Even as he planted his feet on the bed and thrust up into you, picking his pace up a little and grunting into your ear, you shook your head— "M-more, please— I— I can't—"

"Oh, fuck, princess—"

He groaned when you clenched tightly around him, and with quick movements, he had you lying on your back, caged between his arms as breathless pants fell from his lips.

"I—fuck, baby... Are you okay with this? I'll—Shit— Sorry, I m-moved—"

He'd snapped his his hips back into yours the minute you wrapped your legs around his waist, but when he looked at you, your own eyes filled with a desire that dared to rival his own, he let out a slow breath.

"...Okay?" he whispered.

You nodded. "Please."

Rafayel laced his fingers through with yours, holding them against the pillow. At your consent, he resumed his pace, fucking deep into your cunt with thrusts so precisely rubbing against your spot that you closed your eyes with another loud moan.

"Ah, Rafa—Rafayel, s-so good—"

Any thoughts of holding back your sounds were lost in the pleasure raking through your body, feeling the way his cock would brush against all the right places. So thorough, and so loving—and so, so good.

Rafayel was making you feel good.

Better than you've ever felt—better than your fingers, and better than his, and you thought—

Fuck.

You wished you'd gotten to do this sooner.

"P-princess," he whimpered, hips stuttering as he pressed his forehead against yours, drowning a myriad of moans of your name with the way he kissed you. So needy with his touches, you melted into him like you always did, easily following his thrusts and receiving everything he could give you.

"Princess—are you—are you safe?" he breathed.

You could feel the way he tensed inside you, his hips slowing slightly into a pace that had you whining as he waited for your reply.

"Can I... Can I cum inside? If—If you—"

It almost seemed like he could barely form coherent words, and you smiled slightly. Your arms wrapped around his neck; "I'm safe," you mumbled. "Go ahead, Rafa."

The moan that he let out sent a shiver down your spine, and then his lips were on your neck, kissing and sucking—you didn't even mind, anymore, whether or not he'd be leaving marks on you by the time you were done. Groans spilled from his lips between his kisses, and you felt yourself moaning along with him. The pace he'd set picked up, no longer as gentle as you'd started with, but you found that it was more than welcome.

"C-Cumming," you shut your eyes, breathing out his name in endless chants into his hair. "Cumming, Rafa, I—!"

You felt it.

The throbbing of his cock as he spilled rope after rope of cum into your cunt, just in time with your own release. Your nails dug into his scalp as you clenched sporadically around him, throwing your head back with a drawn-out moan of his name, feeling yourself drown in the sheer intensity of it.

"Rafayel—!"

"Fuck—Fuck—Take it, princess— Shit—" He hissed into your neck, pumping his cum into you, moans falling back into whimpers.

A moment passed after, and you smiled contentedly as he hugged you, pulling out of you but still so determined to keep you close to him.

"...R- Rafayel?" You whispered, soothingly stroking his hair. And only then did he look at you.

Your breath caught at his expression.

Tired, undeniably, but so... tender.

"Hey..." he mumbled, slowly moving up to give you a quick kiss. "Can you say it again?"

"H-huh? Say what...?" You felt your face grow even warmer at the mere thought of all the things you'd possibly moaned in the midst of your lust.

But he only smiled. "What you said, earlier. Say that you love me."

A giggle bubbled at your throat, and you pushed him onto the space next to you—

Naturally, he only pulled you back against him, arms wrapping around you, tucking you under his chin.

"C'monnnn, baby. Please?"

It was so hard for you to say no to him like this.

You turned around to face him, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"I love you, Rafayel," you mumbled with a smile.

His expression relaxed.

"...And, thank you. For always making me feel so loved. I've never... I've never thought it could feel like this, a-and..."

"Did you like it?"

"More than liked it! I... I enjoyed it. Really. Thank you."

He grinned, then, gently setting you down on the bed and placing a kiss on your forehead. "Then, mission accomplished! So... Let's clean you up before we sleep, yeah? We can have another round in the morni—"

"Rafayel!"

"I'm kidding!"

⁺₊ / an: holy shit this took an eternity to write??!?!?!! nearly 8k words, what do u know... all this love for the birthday boy, this is an insane amount of special treatment for rafayel fr 🍰

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

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fruitsofhell · 9 months

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Something I really like about Rose Quartz's characterization is how dedicated the writers were to making what she did morally grey. Idk it would have been really easy for the twist to be she was Just Evil, especially learning she was related to the main villains, but no they created this very vague character who even in her appearances feels mysterious. If anything Rose is the one thing that is less clear to me after my rewatch, because now seeing the nuance in her character pulls me out of a black-ane-white view of her and into one that is just... foggy.

But a vibe I do get from Rose, is that despite clearly being incredibly compassionate, she's someone who lacks empathy in the case of the ability to fully realize others' autonomy and thought processes. There's just a lot of decisions she makes that feel aloof in an odd way, and when combined with how childish she can be it can give the impression she sees everything as a game. But it's still clear that she cares and is genuinely moved by the Earth, and when her entire truth is revealed you can see how ideologically honest she was. Even if it feels like her beliefs are just so she can have fun, but that is part of freedom, the freedom to vibe and explore and do silly things she couldn't.

That attitude clearly just comes from her position as Pink Diamond. It was an oppressive role emotionally, but not as literally oppressive as the lives of those around her. I think her relationship with Pearl is where I find the most of the part of me that sees her as compassionate but unempathetic. Pink can't fathom what it's like to have been born to be an obedient servant and how that would cloud Pearl's judgement. How telling her "I'm going to fight for this world but you dont have to" would mean nothing to her because she is still obsessed with her, how entering a romantic relationship with something while they're still effectively your servant is unhealthy, or how spending her life flirting with other men would probably tear your servant-to-lover-to-ex up inside lmao. With the first she obviously meant to be giving her a choice because she cares about Pearl, but she can't understand how to truly give Pearl freedom of choice she can't treat her like a fully freethinking person. With the second she doesn't understand how her power has an unhealthy impact on her bond with Pearl. And with the last it's not at all that Rose isn't allowed to move on, but I just always found she has a lack of awareness of Pearl's jealousy and misery that's a bit inappropriate. Not that you can't assume she has already let Pearl down easy or cares about her coping, but it's never shown, which feels like a deliberate choice.

I'm working on a more organized theory about Rose's characterization, but it is deeply fascinating. Her and Pearl's relationship is as well, I feel like it's sometimes characterized as just a mean jealous ex situation but like it's way more fucked than that, and is a great exploration of power dynamics, obsession, and grief. Love me some toxic doomed yuri.

#steven universe #pearl #rose quartz #pink diamond #su #shut the heck up #theories and rambling #i need to redo my tagging systems honestly #this is super unorganized but i just wanted to get it out #i reallybreally love characters with low empathy and high compassion so i might be projecting preferences lol

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sapphoswh0re · 1 month

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A Kuroshitsuji theory about the emerald witch arc

I've never posted something like this and English isn't my main language but I just wanted to share some thoughts with other fans, so please let me know what you think about this :)

We are in the dream in chapters 93-95, and could these scenes hide clues about the future/role of certain characters???

Who are the pieces on the chessboard?

(Maybe a big foreshadowing about the most recent chapters????)

What pieces are present for each group?

Black: 1 king, 1 horse/knight, 1 rook*, 3 pawns

White: 1 queen, 1 horse/knight, 1 bishop, 1 rook*, 2 pawns

*I'm almost sure it's a rook because it's the only piece left and the other shapes wouldn't really fit.

First, let's include a bit of symbolism for each piece. (Full article: https://chessquestions.com/chess-pieces-symbolism-shape/)

After looking at the various characters that Yana linked to the pieces it was super interesting to re-read their role/symbolism and try to understand the reasons behind those placements.

Later two mirrored panels appear and they indicate that certain pieces represent certain characters.

Ok that was easy.

But what about the others?

And we know that Yana doesn't do things randomly, so what could be the reason for certain choices?

Let's see the theory little by little…

White:

▪︎ BISHOP -> Joker

▪︎ PAWN 1 -> Doll

▪︎ PAWN 2 -> ?

▪︎ ROOK -> ?

▪︎ HORSE -> ?

▪︎ QUEEN -> ?

▪︎ ?

Black:

▪︎ ROOK -> Vincent

▪︎ PAWN 1 -> Madame red

▪︎ KING -> ?

▪︎ HORSE -> ?

▪︎ PAWN 2 -> ?

▪︎ PAWN 3 -> ?

4 of them are revealed by Yana herself and two more are quite obvious: O!Ciel is the black king and Sebastian the black knight.

These two symbolisms are often used both in the first chapters and in the anime.

Furthermore, it is mentioned in the same chapter:

O!Ciel is frequently shown as the "black king" but in the chapter we can see him standing in front of the king, he covers part of it and it's as if he is the one wearing the crown.

R!Ciel is leaning on the horse when he says that Ciel is scared to look at the "proof of sin" which is a clear reference to Sebastian. Also, on the chessboard in the first picture, we find the horse close to O!Ciel.

Ok, perfect, now the hypotheses and spoilers for the latest released chapters begin.

I start with two characters who are shown in the chapter but not as chess pieces: Rachel and R!Ciel.

Rachel is not present in the second picture but is always shown next to Vincent (in this chapter too) so I think she could be the pawn seen in the first photo in the box G8.

For R!Ciel, however, the question is a little different because we actually know which piece he represents even if that piece is not shown on the board.

R!Ciel is the white king, this not only because he's O!Ciel's twin but because it's shown to us by Yana through the way he moves.

This picture is super helpful to understand where the characters are positioned and how they move.

We can see him (blue dot) standing on C3 in a scene, then he moves until he's on F2 (the X), standing in front of the black horse (G2, red dot).

I found it interesting how the way he moves is almost underlined with zooms and sparkles: first, a single step obliquely (in D2) and then another single step.

We don't actually know if the move was C3->D2->E2->F2 or C3->D2->E3->F2 but the important thing is that he moves in multiple directions but only one step at a time, and this is a main feature of the king in chess.

So what is the situation now?

White:

▪︎ BISHOP -> Joker

▪︎ PAWN 1 -> Doll

▪︎ PAWN 2 -> ?

▪︎ ROOK -> ?

▪︎ HORSE -> ?

▪︎ QUEEN -> ?

▪︎ (KING -> R!Ciel)

Black:

▪︎ ROOK -> Vincent

▪︎ PAWN 1 -> Madame red

▪︎ KING -> ? (O!Ciel)

▪︎ HORSE -> ? (Sebastian)

▪︎ PAWN 2 -> ? (Rachel?)

▪︎ PAWN 3 -> ?

I'm not actually interested in the black pieces at the moment so let's focus on the rest.

Looking at the situation that has been created with the return of the real Ciel and other characters recently, do we perhaps have some clues about the current factions???

Both R!Ciel and Doll returned as bizarre dolls, so could we consider the whites their side or at least a side that is O!Ciel's enemy?

Then we can now guess who the white horse is in my mind.

Why do I think that Undertaker is the white horse?

He has a somewhat similar role to that of Sebastian for O!Ciel, albeit distorted.

They're both the "knight" to their "kings", someone who stays by their side (white horse in B4, really close to the white king in C3) and provides support and strategy, I don't know but it just made sense to me.

What about the white queen?

OK, now it's going to get a bit crazy.

Let's look down again where the white queen and black knight are shown, and let's see what is said.

“Nothing will hurt you here” is referred to O!Ciel, so who could be a threat to him?

Sebastian, of course (in that same moment in the manga he was trying/considering eating him, his goal is to devour Ciel's soul at the end) but is also shown the white queen???

A queen who could hurt him?

Yeah so I think it represents Queen Victoria. Why?

My theory is that on the chessboard she is part of O!Ciel's enemy faction (she is not R!Ciel's ally at the moment and she wasn't involved with the blue cult arc since Undertaker despises her lol) because she could be connected with the events of the twins’ tenth birthday.

There are too many coincidences about 14 of December: Prince Albert's death, the twins’ birth, the attack. A lot of theories here on tumblr explain it really well.

And the other pieces? I don't think it's too crazy to assume that all 4 stars may be present on the board: Sirius, Vega, Canopus and Polaris.

2 of them are already there-> Sirius (both Ciel) and Canopus (Doll).

We now know that Vega is Layla, so she could be PAWN 2 or the ROOK based on her future role/importance(??)

Polaris has yet to be revealed but I believe it could be Joker who is already the white BISHOP, an important piece who is however not linked to the royal court but to a different master, who in his case is Baron Kelvin.

For my first post, it got waaay too long, so maybe I should explain in different posts all my theories on the queen's role, Polaris' identity, etc.

I hope it wasn't too chaotic 😅

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #kuroshitsuji theories #ciel phantomhive #phantomhive twins

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major-wren · 8 months

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I love the "ARK siblings" concept and I love cute lighthearted fanart of them being siblings but I feel like a lot of people forget that they literally canonically share a soul and that her death is, in my opinion, I think supposed to represent a part of one's self dying and that they're supposed to be, symbolically, a lot more than siblings.

I always saw Shadow's story as a symbolic way to express the way your inner child and innocence is sacrificed in order to survive complex childhood trauma. Maria's color scheme and the way she's written is, I think, clear to all of us how she's meant to represent innocence and youth. I mean, she doesn't really function very well as a stand-alone character or realistic depiction of a child, shes always been more of an.. idea.

I'm not sure if it was purposeful, but the moon's "Maria" are craters that formed from the moon repeatedly taking the hits of asteroids at it's points of gravity. These points of gravity attract asteroids and draws then away from the Earth. The craters are mostly on the side of the moon we see, so the dark side of the moon, or "shadowed" side is better protected because of that. I feel like this is an extension of Shadow and Maria's symbolism. She took the bullet for him, protecting him, the same way Maria takes the comets, and the same way your brain will sacrifice your inner child (or freeze/rush your mental development) in order to survive intense childhood abuse. I know it all sounds extreme lmao but at the end of the day characters and storytelling are used to explore and express hard emotions and I don't think this randomly tragic character sprung out of nowhere for the Sonic games, which, before that point, always had very lighthearted positive characters (except for the echidna extinction in the game right before Shadow's). Having a character that was easy to approach, yet could represent scarier concepts as a child-friendly stand-in, felt like a very important tool to me growing up. I just hope that that writing can be appreciated in his character, with an understanding of how messy production can be and how a character can get pulled between many different people and ideas. I do think this symbolism was intentional to some degree, especially when it gets to the blatant soul-sharing and how characters insist that Shadow can't be a weapon because Maria's soul (his inner child and true morals despite the damage done to him) makes him "good hearted."

There's other things that uphold this symbolism of Maria dying as representing his inner child being killed, like the rushed/suspended mental development in the face of trauma being illustrated by the fact that Shadow was forced into a dormant cyro slumber right after Maria's death, symbolizing the way he had to basically skip childhood or hit pause on development until he could escape the people controlling him. Much like how victims will have to pause everything and go on autopilot with only a goal of survival until they can escape their situation; only after they feel safe can they begin growing as a person and find their identity. In the Japanese language, there are different types of pronouns people can refer to themselves with instead of just "I" or "myself." In the Japanese dub of SA2, Shadow's creator said in an interview that he had been very insistent on Shadow using the pronouns reserved for young boys, despite Shadow's menacing villain role in the game, because he felt it was important to show Shadow's purity and his lack of experience in life so far. That "live and learn" theme.

And then in his self titled game, Shadow is searching for a way to reconnect with his past and to find the truth about this Maria person he keeps seeing in flashbacks, but in the end he throws away her picture and accepts himself as he is now, forever changed and stained by his past, but more than just a product of his situation. He is "all of him," including the negative impact he never asked for, and including the parts of himself he lost, but also the parts of himself he chose to become. Your environment and childhood shapes you even if you didn't want it to, but that doesnt mean you cant have control in your identity and recover your inherent nature once you've escaped the negative influence (nature vs nurture theme). He will never be the person he used to be, or could have been, (represented by Maria as a pure and untouched youth), but he still has a say in what that grows into.

I just feel like a lot of Shadow's identity issues and inner conflict stem from this whole soul sharing situation with Maria and that his character ends up inevitably being misunderstood if you water them down to just siblings. Especially considering that it was never answered if Shadow actually even ever met Maria or if they're just memories planted by Gerald or caused by the shared soul. In Sonic Battle, it's also said in Gerald's diary that not only do Maria and Shadow share identical souls, but that Gerald literally modeled Shadow after Maria out of his love for her. I'm not sure to what degree or in what ways, but Shadow is supposed to share purposeful similarities with Maria, likely through the content of her character and her morals. That's what makes them so much deeper than just psuedo siblings, he's not only made for her, but designed after her too. It can't really be compared to, for example, Sonic and Tails.

I also think its what makes Shadow's character so substantial and meaningful. His self titled game's entire theme was purity, morals, what is good and bad. This question of purity and morality spreads into his appearances in other stories too- This question that, if you were badly hurt in your youth and shaped by evil- does that leave you impure? Stained? Destined to continue that cycle of harm and cruelty? I think these insecurities feel very real and relatable, and that it's even more realistic that despite these insecurities, that hurt and damage is actually what fuels him to protect others. Just as he said in Sonic Battle, "There's no need to repeat past tragedies! Nobody else ever needs to go through the things that I have!"

Statistically (despite media portrayal) abuse victims RARELY become abusers, because they understand the pain on a deeper level and can't bring themselves to force someone else into experiencing that same pain, knowing the permanent damage it causes. However, childhood abuse leaves people socially stunted and conditioned to harshness, which causes them to accidentally hurt others without meaning to. Or they end up hurting people out of desperation if they feel endangered (like Shadow's "means to an end" approach where he'll prioritize violence if it means reducing the end-impact). Also, they are more susceptible to being abused again after escaping the first abuser, because they are so susceptible to manipulation- Just like how whenever Shadow does switch sides, its usually because someone manipulated him into it or literally brainwashed him. I think Shadow conveys all of this so well, and that Maria's true role is an integral part of it all that can't be ignored or misunderstood, or else Shadow ends up reading as unnecessarily violent or overly obsessed with her when you interpret her as just a sister-figure that he knew for... who knows how few years.

I think this symbolism runs deep with his writing. Just like Maria's meant to be that inherent purity and inner child, I think the black arms DNA is that stain that abuse or trauma can leave on you, that causes you to act out or feel like you're always holding back and trying to keep control over some darker part of yourself that was left behind in the damage done. Especially since they literally have a mind link with Shadow. In the Sonic Universe comic, they succeed in brainwashing Shadow and turn him against his friends. These mind-links, soul-sharing, and brain-washing from both Gerald and the black arms... To disregard the fact that he's deeply connected to these people on a metaphysical, identity altering level is to water down his character and leave it feeling as though his motives are too weak to justify his harsh actions. I've seen people poke fun at his amnesia or insecurity in his identity, as though his confusion isn't justified, and I think it's because people don't realize he has these... literal fragments of other people inside of him, that that's pretty much what he's made of, kind of franken-steined together between a little girl's hopes and morals, an alien race's hivemind greed, a weapon-hungry government and a revenge maddened scientist's painful grief, and even the chaos emeralds which we all know are spiritually whacky and potentially connected to another alien race's memories and energies (the ancients from sonic frontiers). With all of that going on, plus some amnesia mixed in and his memories having been altered by Gerald- I mean.. you'd be searching for the "truth" of your identity too, who you really are. And of course, prone to frustration and aggression, or even a "wish-washy inconsistency." I think there's always a constant tug of war inside of him and that his whole development was a game of tug of war between Gerald, G.U.N and the black arms too. "Am I a cure, am I a death-bringer, am I earth's protector, am I it's destroyer," etc etc

Idk I just think a lot of problems people have with Shadow's writing stems from not realizing how deep things go and what they symbolize. Not to say that something like his boom characterization is of good quality or anything, but I think it's unfair to call him inconsistent when a confusion in his own identity and purpose/goals is kind of the point. And I think people not realizing Maria's deeper, physiological connection to him and influence might be part of the problem.

#major mumbles #shadow the hedgehog #ark siblings #maria robotnik #gerald robotnik #sonic the hedgehog #sth #shth #sonic adventure 2 #shadow the hedgehog headcanon #sonic headcanon #sonic analysis

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decadentworld · 1 year

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Hi!! Can I request Steve having his first time bottoming with reader? Im sure he would tbe the one you would have to take more time with, specialy since hes always been the top and only been with woman. I really love reading your longer fics where it all builds up. thankyou!!!

Anon, tell me why I keep making my request fills longer and longer? I hope I’m not being too exaggerated with the length of this one.

Notions.

A story divided into moments.

Steve thinks back to all the moments that lead to him being in this position. Literally.

※ Bottom Steve Harrington/Top Male Reader.

※ 23,391 words.

※ Requested by Anonymous.

※ +18. Minors do not interact.

※ Content and warnings: First time bottoming. Gentle manhandling. Praise kink. Slightest D/s dynamics (Submissive Steve Harrington/Dominant Male Reader). Brief allusion to subspace. Laughter during sex. Discussions about gender roles and stereotypes. Porn with a bit of plot. Allusions to dyslexia.

※ Both characters are canonically 18 or older.

※ Work available only on Tumblr and under ArchiveOfOurOwn pseud of the same name (DecadentWorld). Do not repost, edit, or redistribute. Do not use for TikTok videos.

It’s already scary enough for Steve to be in a relationship with a man. Steve from two years ago, no, one year ago… perhaps even less: Steve from six months ago would have never imagined he’d ever have a significant other he would call a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend. How curious are life’s many twists and turns. It just so happens that this latest relationship of his has been the steadiest in a good while. Just shy of three months, but Steve feels it so much different from any relationship he’s ever had.

Especially from Nancy.

How to describe the contrast between you and her? He could start by the obvious: she’s a girl, you’re a guy. That’s easy. It wasn’t that easy at first, though. Steve’s only known he’s bisexual for just a bit longer than you’ve been together. It wasn’t a smooth transition, being able to put in words that he was also interested in men. It has been like that for a long time for Steve, always noticing that maybe Harrison Ford seemed a bit more handsome to him than to other guys at school. Not that he ever said it out loud. What’s always been easy for him to understand is that he could not be saying these things out loud, lest he accidentally out himself. Even at the time he wasn’t aware of his own bisexuality.

It’s different, thinking about girls and thinking about guys —a single guy, for the moment. The girls he’s been with were usually dainty, pretty, curvaceous. Soft. All things that truly appeal to Steve.

But you? A man?

Oh, boy.

You’re nothing like them. Whereas they were small, you’re big. And while they normally let themselves be led —like they expected Steve to take the reins, because both they and Steve believed it was their and Steve’s God-given place—, you’re independent. You don’t wait for any of Steve’s cues for anything at all, because this has been discussed between the two of you, which at the time gave him the biggest realization of his life: that there’s no need for there to be roles if it doesn’t feel right for both parties.

Even as this has been said, understood, and internalized… Steve started wondering early into the relationship how it would feel like if these roles (again, non-existent if not desired) were… reversed.

And you noticed. And you started to respond in kind.

It’s something new and fun to explore.

There’s more. Steve’s a pretty tall guy, and, sure, it’s rare to find taller girls. He’s always been the one to be looked up to. That would absolutely not be a problem for him at all. He liked, when he was with girls, to lean on them, to playfully put his chin atop their head, to surprise them by hoisting them —Nancy— up when they —she— least expected it.

And now?

There was one time when you did exactly the same to him. He’ll never forget the fuzzy feeling he experienced at that moment. He gave you a screaming giggle, hoping you wouldn’t notice the strong blush on his face. (You did). And when you released him and he stumbled while looking for his footing once again, he turned around, looked up at you, and…

And made this face, see, like he was having an epiphany.

It was as if he only then realized how much taller and bigger and stronger than him you were.

It was something endearing to see, that time. Steve looked as if he didn’t know what to say. His mouth was trying to form the words, but he seemed like he was also embarrassed by his inability to speak, because he looked like he was holding in a nervous laugh at the same time. And when he realized that he was truly speechless, he could only emit a little titter, tip his eyes down with an even darker flush, and bring a hand up his head to put a lock of his hair behind his ear.

The hair behind the ear is what pretty much sealed the deal. It was at that moment that Steve thought for the first time: Is this how girls would usually feel?

“Everything okay, sweetheart?”, you asked then, if only to tease him further, because you somehow knew what he was going through.

And he could only mumble incoherently.

II.

Let’s go back to this change of dynamics for a second. Steve will never not be left reeling after he experiences any of the small pushes you give against his idea of ‘set role’. Any time he feels like his preconceptions are challenged, like when you experiment with his notion of a previously self-thought assertive person, he so gracefully takes it in stride. Enjoys it, even, which is great, and Steve senses you two are reaching an unspoken agreement of sorts:

He’s going to gradually let you take the reins of the relationship.

This is so new to him. Sometimes, it downright terrifies him how alright he is with it. He feels like he should be more combative about it, but…

Steve is curious, alright? He can’t stop recalling the time before you were together when you playfully asked him to compare hand sizes, one of the most overt romantic advances in history that he fortunately responded positively to. If not enthusiastically. And, oh, how very bothered he ended up when you actually pressed your right hand to his left one, palm to fingertips, because he only then became aware of how much bigger your hand was, compared to his. His reaction at that moment was unforgettable. It was similar to the one he had when you first surprise-hoisted him up. All blushy, unable to hide it.

One of the first few times in his life he was truly abashed.

He keeps remembering with each day that passes, with each newfound sensation he gets when he’s with you. There are a series of similar happenings he can’t get enough of. These involve the times when you’re teaching him how to cook.

Listen. Steve Harrington knows he sucks at cooking, alright? But that’s because no mother of his has ever taken the time to teach him basic stuff, such as the amount of time an egg needs to be boiled, and no father of his has ever handed him tongs or a spatula and told him how he’s exactly supposed to flip burgers at a barbecue. He knows he has some of the fault in this. His past as a spoiled brat has left him reliant on the housekeeper who always leaves the fridge stocked, with meals ready to be microwaved at a moment’s notice. And after, it’s not like he had any interest or time in reading any sort of cookbooks when he was constantly stressing over the end of the world.

The fact that every time he tries his hand at cooking he keeps burning that same meal leaves him crestfallen and uninterested in anything else.

So, when you one day visited him and saw how stressed out he was, fluttering around the kitchen, you knew you had to intervene.

“Are you okay, Steve?”, you asked worriedly, watching him turning his back to you, almost frenzied, stirring on a pot and attempting to do something else you couldn’t see from your position while also making quick glances at a book on the kitchen counter.

“Yeah. Uh, I mean…” Steve twisted his head at you and quickly back at the stove. “I mean…” He seemed to trail off, too busy and perhaps even frantic, fully focused on what he was doing.

“You sure?”, you pushed.

“Uh…” A quick turn of his head towards the book and you could suddenly feel his exasperation. “Shit! It was supposed to be half a spoonful? Not a— fucking spoonful and a half.” It was obvious that he was thinking out loud.

You approached him, then, from his left side so he could see what you were doing. A nervous and disheartened glance at your arrival told you everything you needed to know. You put your right hand on the low of his back. “Doesn’t look like ‘okay’ to me, sweetheart.”

Steve gave you a long, sad look, and turned off the dials on the stove. He heaved a brooding sigh. “It was supposed to be a surprise. I thought this’d be easier and quicker to make.”

You smiled at him. He was too sweet. “Honey. You were making me food?”

Steve looked to the side. “Yeah… but, apparently, I’m too stupid for that, too.” He didn’t want to cry over this. He thought he would look even more stupid if he did.

You knew he was spiraling, and you wouldn’t let him. You were familiar with how hard he was on himself on a good day, but you also knew how bad that would get when he was trying to give you his displays of affection. So you brought the hand you had on his lower back up to his chin, softly stroking it with your thumb, catching the gorgeous shy look he was giving you. “You’re not. I forbid you from calling yourself that.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Seriously, Steve. You’re not stupid. Whoever told you that, they’re all levels of wrong.”

His eyes strayed anywhere else, and he muttered: “I call myself that.”

“Well. You’re wrong, then.”

Steve quickly glanced up at you again. There was so much conviction in what you said that he just had to bite his lower lip to hold back a smile.

You smiled, too. You lead his head closer to yours, noticing how breathless he got, and gave him a slow and sweet kiss on his lips. When you withdrew, he was looking up at you with stars in his eyes. “You’re a sweet boy. You were cooking for me. That’s so lovely.”

Maybe you understood that he liked a little bit of praise, too, that day, if the way he looked down and to the side with the lightest dusting of pink on his face was indication enough.

But that expression was rapidly being overshadowed by dejection.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here. I can’t seem to follow basic instructions. It’s like the words get mixed up, or something.” He looked back at the cookbook and your hand fell from his chin.

“Hm.” You skimmed over the contents of the book, and glanced back at the previous preparations he had on the stove. “I got this one. Mind if I help you?”

Steve bit his lip. “How?”

And you—

You got behind him. Pressed your chest to his back. And took each of his hands in yours.

Steve gasped.

“Like this?”, you asked. “You might be able to learn a thing or two better if you have the muscle memory.”

Sure. Muscle memory, Steve thinks, among the haze that his mind has become. The warmth of your bigger body against his makes it hard to think of anything else. But he claws himself out of it long enough to answer: “Uh— Y-Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay!”, he reiterates, with a giddy smile you can’t see and a nervous titter present in his voice.

You chuckle as well.

That day was the first time Steve sincerely felt like he was being… eased into a lighter headspace. The way you guided his hands while chopping ingredients on the cutting board, while sliding them into a pot, even while in the act of properly washing his hands under the faucet and drying them as well… It all had him almost breathless. It was the first occasion in which he didn’t mind relinquishing that previously-thought position he had believed he had to occupy, once upon a time.

And how to describe the feeling?

It felt like a weight off his shoulders. It felt like something he thought should’ve always been present in his life.

It felt natural. Not forced.

That feeling of being enveloped, not only by your bigger and warmer frame, but by this sense of a guiding hand you were giving him, was slowly turning him into mush on the inside, and setting off a fuzzy sensation inside him, like a tickling feeling. It was causing chaos inside his mind, and he didn’t want it any other way.

Which made following your instructions a lot harder, but, hey, that’s why you were being his puppeteer, right?

“Pay attention, baby.” Your murmuring next to his ear had the exact opposite effect.

“I am,” he choked out.

God. His cheeks were so red by that point. Steve found himself abashed knowing that you could see him, because your head was lying on his shoulder, right against his. And the way his heart was pounding, reverberating through his body and through yours against his, was so obvious he knew you would’ve been able to sense it even if you’d been on the other side of the room.

But he found some solace in the fact that yours was pounding, too.

That is the flashback —or rather, string of flashbacks, since you had to keep teaching him how to make different meals— that keeps him going whenever he gets too much into the particular idea that he’s doing something wrong. Because he’s not. Steve feels right when you make him feel like this, and no amount of bigoted ideas drilled into his mind since he had use of reason will stop him from coming back to those moments.

III.

And what moments. Steve has a little problem every time he remembers the first few times he was intimate with you. A man.

Hoo, boy. It’s so different with a guy. The change —or rather, lack— of dynamics would make for interesting situations in bed. And on the couch. And by the entrance door. And…

Well. You can’t blame Steve. It’s as if this new relationship, this new revelation, re-awakened his high libido he thought broken after the whole supernatural shebang. At first, it was he who would eagerly turn you around against the wall after you initially did, turning the previous make-out session into something hot and heavy that would leave him bothered. You would let him, because you understood how new and inexperienced he was with a male, and wanted him to be fully comfortable. He would fall into place and push his own hips against yours, feeling thoroughly thrown off in the best way at feeling something similar growing and pressing against himself. Then he would do it faster, harsher, getting light-headed when he’d feel your big hands on his lower back, urging him until he would muffle a shout in your chest and cum in his pants like it was the first time he’d ever had an orgasm.

But then, as more times followed, and more items of clothing would gradually disappear, Steve would find himself as the recipient of these same actions. The first time was the exact same situation: against the wall. Only, he was the one trapped against it and your body, and he was the one to be rutted against.

And this peculiar feeling of confinement wasn’t unpleasant.

The second time was on your couch. There was excitement in the fact that you two were slowly turning more horizontal. He tentatively let you arrange him to be sitting against one of the arm rests with his legs extended while you kneeled in the space between them. There was also comfort in the fact that you would check on him every five or so minutes, so that Steve would understand that that position was a choice fully of his own, and that he could tap out at any moment if he needed to. And so, the fun would heighten, and he would totally feel out of his depth when he understood that he didn’t have that much space or momentum to rut against you, and that he would have to receive more than he had to give.

He would have to take it.

And this knowledge made his heart beat so fast it’d feel like it was coming out of his chest, and it turned his face into the most appealing shade of pink, and it would pull the prettiest moans and the prettiest expressions out of him, and it made his legs shake like they had never before with a girl, and it had him coming in his pants and covering his mouth in shame at the loud moan that threatened to escape him.

And the third time was the first time he had the courage to ask to undress you, and you responded in kind and asked if you could undress him in turn, and suddenly you’d both be on your bed, only one layer of clothing left.

Steve would take off the last item of clothing of his by himself, the first time he’d ever be sheepish in a sexual encounter. You would compliment his size, because it was a very nice-looking cock indeed. There was no doubt over why he’d been called King Steve in the past.

But when your own underwear was off, he gasped and sat up in shock. In alarm, perhaps. Because, sure, he was King Steve, who was the subject of mainly nice rumors…

But you?

It was ridiculous. There had to be a limit.

So, understanding how apprehensive he was, you would comfort him, tell him you didn’t have to do anything if he changed his mind.

But Steve surprised you, and he smiled timidly, seeming to cover his mouth with one hand while he simply looked at it.

He would exhale, almost as if he was chuckling. Nervously, of course. “It’s…”

“Yeah. I know.” Your apologetic smile put him just a teeny bit more at ease.

Steve looked at your cock, then at you, then at it again, one jittery hand hovering in the air close to your body. “Um…”

“D’you wanna touch it?”, you encouraged him. You grabbed his right hand with all the softness in the world. You leant up on your right elbow and laid your head on your hand, trying to transmit as much ease as you could to him.

“Yeah. Okay,” he answered shyly, and he shortened the distance until his hand was gently palming your half-hard cock.

Steve heaved in a breath. It felt…

It felt so similar, yet so different. New. Exciting. He stroked with an open palm up and down once, releasing a small titter at your pleased hum.

You would not leave him unattended, of course. Your own left hand slowly approached him, first resting on his folded left leg. Your big hand stroked up and down his thigh twice, hearing his excited shaky breath, and came to rest on the juncture of his leg and hip.

You looked at him, noticing he was biting his lower lip in anticipation. So you didn’t tease him anymore, and finally wrapped your hand around his erect cock.

Steve released a silent moan and his eyes closed on their own for one moment, until he felt your initial first strokes and just had to watch you. He released a disappointed little noise that made you smile when you let his cock go, only to go red as a cherry afterward when he realized his little slip-up.

You chuckled. It was clear that this situation was so new to him, so much so that he didn’t know how to handle his own reactions. “Cute.”

Steve tried to hide. Impossible. His pink flush covered every part of his head, down to his neck and hairy chest. “‘M not cute.”

You straightened until you were sitting up, used one hand on the bed and another one on his thigh as leverage, and closed up on him, until you were leaning into him. Steve looked at you from under his lashes when you did this, biting his lip in anticipation, because the point of contact on his thigh, so very close to his hard cock, was making it hard to think about anything else. “You are.” The other hand that wasn’t on his thigh then slid to the back of his head, and you ran your fingers through his hair. He exhaled heavily. “There’s no fighting me on this.”

That’s how you slowly guided him into a steamy kiss, at the same time that you took hold of his cock once more, feeling more than hearing his muffled moan against your mouth. You stroked him, softly, just so enough that he would push his hips towards your hand, aching for more.

You were feeling particularly mean that day. Your hand kept its slow pace and you felt just how much that agitated Steve. He withdrew from the kiss and gave you this expression, like he was all but holding in the biggest pout ever. You only raised your eyebrow at him, secretly thrilled at his neediness. “Want anything?”, you teased him.

“Yeah. You know.” Steve’s face was so pink. You knew how much of a novel it was for him to have to actively ask for something, rather than simply do it himself, if only because he was still getting used to this fun change of dynamics.

“Oh, but I don’t. Do enlighten me.” You got all close and personal with Steve by this point, noticing his averting eyes. “Use your words, baby.”

At that, Steve could only bite his lip. He mumbled something, too low for you to hear.

“Sorry. What was that?” You smirked at him, because it was obvious that he was enjoying being teased so much.

“Do it faster,” Steve reiterated, unable to look at you by then.

“Do what faster, exactly?”

Steve made this embarrassed noise, something between a grumble and a whine. He hid his red face in the pillow under him while you chuckled. “Stroke me. Faster.”

You bit your lip while he couldn’t see you. You thought it was too early to test the waters for it, even though you were extremely sure he was starving for praise, so you settled with telling him: “Good.”

Steve’s eye peeked from the pillow’s soft cotton when you said this, and you knew you had hit the nail right on the head, if the way his face softened when you said it was indicative enough.

Then you complied with his request. Steve went from an embarrassed mess to a shameless one after only a few seconds of intense stroking. He shifted on the bed until his face was fully visible again, and you were able to see the way it transformed from his pleasure before your eyes. With no clothes to act as a hindrance, he could feel everything.

And even then, he took you by surprise. Without warning, he started stroking you with the same speed you did to him. You met his eyes. He had a particular glint in his that led you to understand he was feeling competitive.

You raised an eyebrow.

He bit his lip, like he was holding back a smile, even as his moans were momentarily muffled. Then, he gave you that same verbal confirmation for your thoughts, even though it was quite far off from what you had been expecting:

“You want me to go faster? Use your words.”

But he said it with such a waver in his voice and with such a deep shade of pink on his face that you couldn’t help but cackle at him. Steve’s face turned pouty as you did, but he knew you weren’t being mean on purpose. It was just so fun to think that he wanted to return to his former place on top, like he was trying to flip your own game on you.

How wrong he was to think that you would go down without a fight.

You chuckled a bit more. “Cute.”

“What?”, he asked with a shaky voice, subtly pushing his hips into the tunnel of your left hand.

“It’s cute that you think you can win this game.”

Steve’s face got impossibly redder. He closed his eyes for a second while his mouth opened in a silent moan, but tried to compose himself afterward. You leered at him, each time more convinced that he did have a little bit of a praise kink. He steeled his face as much as he could afterward, intently looking at you. “It’s not— It’s not a game if you’re not even trying to beat me.”

You smirked. “Oh, so you want me to put up a bit of a fight?”

“I mean,” Steve started, trying to look nonchalant. “…if you’re not a coward.”

You chuckled lowly at him. Then, you got close to him, trying to blanket his body with yours, but he was ready for it and met you in the middle. He kissed you hard, attempting to overpower you. That made you chuckle within the kiss, something that made him grunt in something similar to annoyance in response. Your hand moved faster and harder on his cock, a heavenly feel to him as the amount of pre-cum he was leaking made things easier, resulting in an intense handjob, made all the more vivid from your rough and calloused hands.

Even as he moaned freely in the kiss, he was still trying to get you to lie under him. His hand imitated your own’s movements, though you could feel the slight tremor his was showing. He tried to overcompensate by opening your mouth and pushing his tongue onto yours.

You raised your eyebrows at this, but kept this little game he didn’t know he had lost before he had even started. On one twist of your hand, his hips pushed up higher up and his cock accidentally brushed against yours, making him yelp and making you grunt. You withdrew to look at him and noticed the redness of his face overtaking his neck and chest now. Clearly, he was trying to keep up, but the haze of pleasure was making it difficult.

Still, he pushed on and attempted to lay the expanse of his body on yours, still stroking you fast. It seemed like he forgot how much stronger than him you were, because you didn’t even budge an inch.

As this dawned upon him, you did the same to him while in his stupor, gently pushing forward to lay him down until he was completely horizontal on the bed. He put his free hand on your chest, and you stopped in your tracks, wondering if he wanted to stop.

But when he started trying to push you back and to the side, you understood it was all still part of the game. Steve’s face took on an annoyed expression, like he was truly bothered about not being strong enough to overpower you.

He decided to up the ante and released your cock, using now both hands to attempt to subdue you, opting to clutch your hips with his legs to gain enough momentum to toss you aside.

You didn’t move at all. Instead, all that did was rub your cocks together.

Steve moaned, starting to understand that it was a lost battle.

And you chuckled again, releasing his cock to hold yourself up over him. “See, I think it’d be easier if you just admitted defeat.”

Steve groaned, but it was clear that he was trying to hold back a smile. “Not a chance.” He thrashed on the bed, putting all his strength in his limbs for a strong shove.

He managed to push you aside for a second thanks to the momentum, but as soon as he wanted to imitate your previous position, you were on him again. You wrestled on the bed for some seconds. You were delighted with the small giggles he was releasing, knowing how fun this change felt to him.

You laughed back at him once you were just like before: holding yourself up over him. This time, your hands held his shoulders softly, but firmly, pressing him down into the mattress.

Steve’s hands shot up at you, but you quickly grabbed his wrists and put them to the sides of his head. When you did this, he quieted down, and his face took on an even darker shade.

You softened the grip on his wrists just to make sure he was alright with it, but he didn’t move them an inch. Instead, his body went lax under you.

It was such a heady sight. “I win.”

Steve blinked out of his stupor for a second. “Y-Yeah. I guess.” He tried to look annoyed, but he just looked like he was holding back a nervous smile.

“Do you surrender?”, you drawled out, getting close to him, close enough to breathe the same air as him.

His heart was beating so fast. “I guess,” he mumbled, trying to look like this was a hassle for him, but the pink on his face wasn’t receding.

“You guess?”

Steve gave you a look, like he was annoyed. Then, he thrashed once again, attempting to use the element of surprise to overthrow you once more, but you were prepared.

With the grip on his wrists, you held his writhing body down and turned him around on the bed, softly, an intoxicating contrast to what he was expecting.

Steve gasped, genuinely feeling small at the feel.

You managed to lay him down until you were enveloping his body with yours, your chest pressing against his back.

When Steve felt this, he gave you a moan he’d never heard himself make. His face was almost squished against the pillow, and the feeling of being utterly overpowered was making his thoughts go haywire.

You released his left hand while you gently twisted his right one until it was held against the low of his back. At the same time, your hard cock brushed against his right cheek on accident.

Steve gasped.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna do anything weird right now.”

He was secretly relieved. You released his hand, which remained against his back even then, holding yourself up and your hips pushed off the bed just in case, so that your cock wouldn’t come in contact with him anymore. Steve noticed this but didn’t say anything at first, and he couldn’t after, when you took hold of his cock that was pressed in-between his belly and the mattress and started stroking it fast at once. He moaned loudly and freely.

“That’s it, baby. That’s so good.”

Steve moaned even louder at that. He didn’t know why that simple word made him feel all fuzzy inside. But you did.

He reached back with his left hand until he could touch your hips. “It’s— fine. You can…” He attempted to press you against him.

“You sure?”, you asked him; despite this, you complied immediately and pushed your hips against his ass, though you lowered your body a bit so that your cock wouldn’t be in direct contact with his ass.

“Yeah, but it’s— you can—” Steve pressed his face against the pillow from the embarrassment when he tried to push you higher up with his left hand behind him. “It’s okay if… but we don’t… Jesus, don’t make me say it.”

You chuckled. You pressed your body against him, angling your hips so that the length of your hard cock would be pressing between his cheeks, pointing downwards.

Steve almost shouted at the feel.

That was how you managed to make Steve feel even more helpless: your entire body pressed against the back of his against the bed led him to rut against your right hand in desperation.

You kissed his nape to give him some comfort. “Just this. I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

The back of his neck burned with abashment. “Yeah. You’re right. I mean, I think. I mean—”

You chuckled and gave his neck more little kisses. He released a small titter because of his nervousness. “Trust me. You aren’t.”

Steve bit his lip where you couldn’t see him. You just kept stroking him, the feeling of being enveloped by you adding on to his mental haze. He tentatively shifted his hips to chase more of the feel of your hand, but in doing so he also incidentally rubbed his ass on your cock.

Steve didn’t know why that pushed him so close to the edge.

You’d never heard Steve make such a sound— he was all but whimpering deliriously. Steve realized this and covered his mouth with his left hand, grabbing onto the sheets next to his head with his right one.

He was so adorable. You knew he was embarrassed from his own reactions to this change. “Does that feel good?”, you grunted next to his ear as you shifted your hips to rub against his rear again.

Steve blubbered something unintelligible, legs folding on their own, as if he was close.

You cackled at him. “Babe. I asked you a question.”

“What— Ah, fuck— Y-Yeah. Yeah.” Steve’s was all but writhing on the bed by that point. “Wh-Why does it feel so good?”

“We can talk about it later. For now…” Your hand was a blur between his belly and the mattress while you rubbed your cock on his ass. “… I want you to cum just like this. Come on, sweetness. Make a mess.”

You knew just how nonsensical he got when he came on a good day. But you didn’t know this would be a strong orgasm, so you weren’t prepared for the way he moaned, almost like it hurt, when he had the most intense orgasm he’d had to date, spurting lines upon lines of cum, as if you’d edged him for hours. God. His face was probably the best part, but you couldn’t see him from your position. Such a shame. His little whines would probably embarrass him if he had more coherence that moment.

After coming like a literal freight train for what seemed like minutes, you knew he was done when he relaxed on the bed. His breaths were quick and deep, like he couldn’t draw in enough air.

Your hard cock was twitching from its snug position between his cheeks, but you ignored it for the while. Your mouth started making its way to his, starting from his nape, where you left slow kisses, until you reached his red cheek. Steve was too out of it to respond.

You lifted yourself off his body, and he still didn’t acknowledge you. You gently manhandled his body and rolled it around, until he was lying on his back on the bed, next to the frankly impressive cumstain on the sheets. Steve’s eyes were closed and his breathing only then started to return to normal. You kneeled between his parted legs.

Steve finally opened his eyes, seeming to just then realize that his position had been changed without his knowledge.

“Back on the land of the living?”

He breathed in and out a couple of times before he chuckled, shyly, rolling his eyes at you. “Jesus, dude.” Steve took in the hard cock that was looming over his own spent one, the heat from yours so strong that he could feel it in the proximity. He bit his lip, extending a shaky hand forward and taking your cock in it. “You’re still…”

“Yeah,” you answered nonchalantly.

“I… let me…?” Steve looked up at you in question.

As if he ever needed confirmation from you. “Whatever you want, baby.”

He steeled himself and started stroking you, slowly at first, but quickly building up the pace until his hand was a blur on you.

You closed your eyes and bit your lip. “Won’t be too long, now.” Your hips freely pushed to and fro within the tunnel of his hand.

Steve was taken aback by this at first, but the visual rapidly turned the feelings inside him into something fuzzy and hot and.

And. Big.

And when you moaned in that low voice of yours, it was like one of the few remaining notions in his mind were broken once again: the contrast between a feeble and feminine voice against this gruff and masculine one was unmistakable. He welcomed this change too much. He’d thought he couldn’t get any more flustered, but he’d been wrong.

As you leant down and held yourself over Steve on your hands and knees, Steve thought he’d never felt smaller than at that moment. His heart was pounding so hard from the feeling of being caged in, but he —even with his terrible experiences with being trapped, confined, restricted in any way— felt safe, not cornered.

You opened your eyes just in time to see another one of those epiphanies he continuously had those days. You smirked at him, and Steve glanced at you before his eyes strayed downwards again, mesmerized with the sight of your cock thrusting into his fist.

Which. Well. Might have been just the tiniest beginning of a second epiphany that day.

“‘Find out something new?”, you grunted out, already close.

Steve looked up at you once more, mouth opening but then closing, biting his lip in that shy way you were so familiar with. “Maybe…”, he mumbled.

You gave him a low laugh before you bit your lip and closed your eyes, face twisted in bliss. “Getting close.”

Steve seemed to breathe faster at that. He only nodded, almost enthusiastically, and his hand stroked you even faster. He gave you a quick sultry look, and you were left wondering what it meant before his left hand went under the one he had on your member, and rolled your testes with it.

You growled at him, hearing his intake of breath at it, before you lent forward, closer to him, hovering only shy of a foot over him. You opened your eyes to see him looking almost frantic, unable to choose between looking at your face or at your cock, before you closed the distance and gave him a short, steamy kiss.

Steve whined a little when you withdrew, because you were suddenly coming on his stomach, grunting from the release. He kept stroking you through it, drawing in breaths from his open mouth as you added to the mess on his stomach.

His cock valiantly tried to fill for a second.

Once you were done, you smiled at him, noticing his sheepish expression. You rolled to the part of the bed that wasn’t stained with his cum and lay down on your side.

Steve’s eyes were shyly straying away from yours, but he wasn’t able to look away for too long, always coming back to your own or to the mess you made on his belly.

You used the hand that wasn’t stained with his cum to stroke a finger across his cheekbone. “So? What did you think?”, you asked him, as you reached behind you without looking to grab some tissues.

“W-Well…” He looked adorable. He lowered his face down to your chest, so hopelessly trying to hide the blush on his face, but it was useless. He giggled against your skin. “It was… something.”

You chuckled in sympathy. “Baby.”

“Hm.”

“Was there any point where you didn’t like any of it?”, you asked, specifically thinking of the part where you were rubbing yourself against his ass.

Steve’s eye peeked from your chest. He bit his lip to hide a smile, even though you couldn’t see it from your position, and shook his head.

“No? None at all?”

Steve knew what you were referring to. His face only got redder. “No. Actually…” He looked like he was about to say something, but quickly lost his courage and hid his face again. “N-Nevermind.”

“It’s okay to be embarrassed, sweetheart.”

He grumbled, embarrassed. “‘M not embarrassed.”

You could only chuckle at that. You kissed his forehead, and Steve laid his head in such a way that you could see him. “Whatever you say. I’m just saying there’s a first time for everything, and I recall you seemed to like a certain part a lot.”

Steve kicked his feet against the bed and he— he whined. Like it physically hurt him to hear you say this. He mumbled: “And what about it.”

You openly laughed at him. He was just so fun to tease. “Nothing. Just saying. There’s a whole world of possibilities you might have not thought about yet.”

God. Steve’s face was steaming hot by this point. He knew what you meant, but he couldn’t verbalize it, the sole idea setting off many different reactions in him, most of which were welcome, but made his heart pound fast at the same time, gave him the shivers.

But you knew he was probably drained, so you took his silence as a gentle dismissal for the day.

IV.

That last memory could be named ‘The Beginning Of It All’, because Steve feels like something fundamentally changed in him after you both were done that day, him staying up for a while after you started dozing off, lost in his thoughts.

These same thoughts invade his mind at every point of the day the next days that pass. At work, at home —alone, like always—, while going to run some errands. He can’t get that particular moment out of his mind, and it makes his face turn so red to just catch himself starting to think about it.

Because, first of all, he’s still wrapping his head around it. It being the fact that you were right: there is truly a world of possibilities he hasn’t completely thought about up to that moment. It being the fact that he’s starting to wonder how… some things might feel, and Steve finds himself almost steaming from bashfulness when he can finally find the courage to put it into words:

Fucked. He wants to know how it would feel like to be fucked.

He runs his hands through his hair, across his face, over his mouth, anything to try to somehow erase the red tint his face gets when he thinks about it.

It never works, of course. At work, Robin gives him that squinty look whenever she catches the most minuscule shift from his normal skin tone to anything other. Like a shark to blood.

“You know you can tell me anything, right, Stevie?”

“I know, Robbie. But maybe not this one?”

And his face goes the deepest shade imaginable after saying it and he tries to cover it, and Robin stews in her concern, but leaves it at that. She helps by offering to pull out the old reliable You’re Cool vs. You Suck board, to which Steve gently but exasperatedly refuses. Because he is cool, for once. He believes.

Some few days after The Beginning Of It All, Steve caves in. He’s just so desperate to know more about this particular fixation of his that has his mind going haywire, but he knows it has to be different.

He’s had anal with a few of the girls he’s had sex with, so he knows the difference between vaginal and anal penetration. Obviously. He won’t be able to involuntarily self-lubricate or dilate before being penetrated. He knows that.

He just doesn’t know what it entails. Before sealing the deal.

So Steve, in his eagerness to learn more, spends one of his weekend days travelling all the way down to Columbus, where he knows no one will recognize him, an almost two-hour-long trip just to have a semblance of anonymity.

How freeing it is, to be able to walk into a —though secluded— queer-friendly sex shop, just to buy a magazine where he’ll be able to read ‘Everything You Need to Know About Anal!”, and come out of it, full-incognito. He just hopes times will change in the future and he won’t have to hide so much for something so simple.

So, two hours later, when he’s back home and with a fresh new magazine in his hands that he treasures like a family heirloom, he gets comfortable on his bed after closing the door to his bedroom —as if his ever-absent parents would barge in at any moment.

And he reads.

Admittedly, the more he reads, the more he can feel his face start to heat up, albeit for a different reason now. Because he now knows what he needs to do. Before.

He giggles. He reads on. Discovers new things apart from the specific act of anal penetration, since the magazine focuses on gay sexual health in general. Is taken aback by a few things, mentally slaps himself on the face for not paying enough attention back in high school. Particularly reprimands himself for thinking that condoms are only useful for stopping pregnancies, hasn’t really thought about the possibility that there are sexual diseases and a whole epidemic going on, something that could have gotten to him even during the times that he would have sex with girls.

Finds out something that interests him way too much, another one of the things he glossed over at school, but is sure a lot more of his classmates would have as well:

‘The prostate. Just a quick stroke on this bad boy will have you seeing stars. Ask your partner to try it on you.’

Curious. Where is it, again?

Oh, right. Just about two inches into.

“Into…”, Steve mutters, feeling the tips of his ears burn. He covers his face with the magazine and giggles, just like a girl with a crush. He lowers the mag until his eyes can peek from above it. His eyes stray anywhere and everywhere as he’s in deep thought.

Into. Steve hasn’t had any sort of stimulation on his behind other than some days ago, when you got him off while rubbing yourself against him, but he can clearly recall his own reaction to it. Such a strong response has to mean something. He just hopes it ends being all it was said to be.

His cock is starting to get hard from the thought. Just recalling that encounter has him feeling heady, growing inside his pants. Steve bits his lip. He lays the magazine on his chest and rubs the juncture between his thighs and groin with his hands while he thinks. The idea of fingering himself is growing more and more in his mind. He just has to give it a try.

A wild thought strays into his mind: the image of you thrusting two fingers in and out of him.

Steve releases a heavy breath. That vision has his cock throbbing.

He grabs the magazine and drops it beside him, on the mattress. Then, he quickly gets up and makes his way to the shower.

Previous preparations are done. Now comes the fun part. Hopefully.

Steve throws himself on the bed, still naked after the shower. His cock has remained on the beginnings of an erection all throughout, and it’s driving Steve crazy.

He settles until he’s half sitting up, half lying down on the center of the bed. He reaches to the side and opens his drawer, taking out the bottle of lube he has stored. Quickly, he opens it and pours a generous amount of the liquid on the fingers of his right hand, recalling what the magazine said about there never being enough lube for anal. He giggles a bit in the face of what he’s about to do.

With a heavy breath, Steve lowers his right hand down to his behind. He plants his feet on the bed to have a better approach. Then, he tentatively brushes his middle finger against the furl of his hole.

Steve bits his lip. It feels intense, and he hasn’t even started doing anything yet. He tries to relax, just in the way he’s read. Breathing in and out, he rubs the tip of his finger in circles, around his hole and occasionally venturing towards the center of it. Then, he steels himself, and starts pushing in.

He finds that the first finger enters without much trouble, perhaps a bit too easily, because he suddenly finds himself pushing it to the last knuckle on accident.

Steve gasps. It feels… equal parts good and weird. He covers his mouth with his free hand and giggles. He can’t believe he’s really doing this.

He waits for some seconds until he gets used to the feeling of his finger inside himself, and then starts pulling it out.

Okay. That feels downright weird.

Steve continues in spite of this, talking himself into enjoying this, trying to recall the feel of your hard cock rubbing between his cheeks. But it’s one thing to have another person do it to him while in a context where he was already hard, and another entirely different one to experiment with himself while he’s only now starting to feel pleasure.

He lowers his left hand to the discarded tube of lubricant on the bed. Steve does some gymnastics with his fingers, trying to open the lid with only one hand and to pour lube on that same hand, something that makes him spill some lube on the bed on accident. Oh, well. At least he gets some of it on his hand. When he’s done, he closes the lid with one wet hand and moves that same hand towards his cock. He encloses his member with his lubed hand, and that instantly brings him some pleasure.

But it’s not enough. It’s sort of difficult to stroke himself with his left hand, given that he’s right-handed.

Steve shakes his head. He thrusts his finger in and out of himself and tries to look for… anything that might give him some pleasure, but he simply can’t.

He thinks it’s because he only has one finger in him, so he puts his ring finger next to his middle one, squeezing together until he feels his rim give a little. It feels like a tight fit, but Steve pushes on, before he manages to fit the tip of his second finger inside him.

The stretch gives him pause. It certainly feels like a strain and it burns to a degree.

He doesn’t let that stop him and pushes forward, and he suddenly finds himself with two fingers inside him.

Steve breathes heavily. The stretch does something for him, but he doesn’t know if it’s something good or not. The only thing he knows is that his cock gives a little kick at the strain, but it’s too early to say if he really likes it, or if his body is just reacting naturally at this point.

So he waits and strokes himself slowly. His cock is only about half hard. Still, he holds on until he feels like he can move his right hand. He starts pulling his two fingers out and then back in at a leisured pace. There is undoubtedly something intense about the feeling. He keeps on thrusting slowly, in and out, still rubbing his cock at the same speed, and then starts a faster pace with his fingers.

Still. Nothing much.

He suddenly recalls what he read in the magazine. Right. The prostate. Two inches into.

Only, Steve doesn’t know what he’s supposed to feel for. He presses forward, upward, but nothing really stands out.

Steve purses his lips, almost pouting. He was expecting something mind-blowing after the other day. He prods and thrusts some more, but it’s fruitless.

He reaches a sad conclusion: What if he doesn’t enjoy anal sex at all? Has that time just been a one-off?

Sighing, he pulls his fingers out, resigning himself to finishing himself with a mediocre handjob.

VI.

Steve’s dejected mood translates into most of his actions the next days. You’re the one who notices the most, when you visit him at Family Video today.

He’s alone in the store, Robin probably in the back room for her break, no clients in sight. He has his back to you, for once seeming to do his job and arranging VHS’s in a neat pile. That tells you all you need to know.

He senses someone behind him, but doesn’t turn around as he says: “Welcome. How may I help you?”

“I’d like the longest and horniest movie you have, please.”

Steve jumps at your voice. He quickly turns around, and whatever light scowl that might have been present in his face is instantly swapped for a nervous smile.

But you can see some slight tension on his face, so you say: “Don’t worry. There’s no other people here.”

“Yeah,” Steve starts, his voice almost tight, “…I know.”

You think his attitude is a bit strange. On any other normal day he would’ve been vibrating with energy just by having you in his proximity, but today it seems like he’s just subdued. Unhappy for some reason.

So you lean on the counter and notice his intake of breath, as well as the subtle reddening of his cheeks, something that will never change regardless of his mood.

“What’s got my pretty boy so down?”

Steve valiantly tries to grin at you, but it sort of comes out as a grimace. He hums. “I can’t really talk about it at work.”

You hum, too. “Wanna tell me about it after work?”

Steve bites his lip, like it’s a hard decision for him. Now you’re convinced that there’s something truly wrong going on. Finally, he decides. “Yeah. Same time as always?”

“Yep.” You subtly brush your fingers against his hand on the counter, the most overt thing you’ll try in public, knowing how nervous he gets about it. Steve sighs happily when you do. Then, you lower your voice, almost to a murmur. “I’ll give you an extra good time, just to see you smile. And, well. Make other sorts of faces, too.”

Your angel turns red. He giggles against his own shoulder, giving you the first display of genuine happiness.

You chuckle as well, as you turn to leave.

Later in the evening, Steve shows up in your doorstep, and you can’t help the way you practically drag him inside your house. He laughs when you do.

As soon as you close the door, you’re on him. Steve’s gasp is muffled by your lips, but he composes himself to respond in kind. You feel him opening his mouth to push his tongue onto yours, which surprises you, since he’s not usually the one to start such contact. Not that you’re complaining. You brush your tongue against his and feel his moan vibrate throughout your body. As if on instinct, his body presses against yours, but as soon as you feel the beginnings of a hard-on —which, surprisingly, isn’t yours—, he withdraws at once.

Steve gives you a nervous half-smile. “Hi,” he says, so shyly it gives you whiplash.

You chuckle. “Hey, there.” You lean down to give him one last peck on his lips. When you separate, you take his hand to start leading him further into your house. “Wanna sit on the couch? Watch a movie? Or…”

He stays in silence for some seconds, starting to look all too awkward for some reason.

You rub the hand you have in yours with your thumb, the question obvious in your face.

“Um…” Steve looks down, abashed. “Wh-Whatever you want.”

You purse your lips. “Hm. No offense, sweetheart, but that was the least convincing thing you’ve ever said.”

Steve chuckles. “You’re not wrong.” He looks up at you from under his lashes. That’s enough to get you going. “Well… we could…”

“Yeah?”

His face does a funny thing and he releases a titter. “You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”

You want to tease him more, truly, but you feel as though whatever had him so crestfallen today might have drained him for the day, so you settle with: “Not this time, sweet thing. Let’s just go to my room so we can talk.”

“Yeah…” Steve’s face takes on a deep shade of red.

“Really,” you try to sound reassuring as you start walking to your bedroom with him in tow. “Whatever you want. We can talk… or we can talk.”

He laughs openly. “Right.”

You arrive at the door of your room. Steve looks at you, so bashful it’s almost painful to watch him.

You both cross the threshold. “Want me to close the door?”, you ask, knowing about his usual want of privacy, even though you lived alone.

He nods, meekly. So you close the door and stand in front of him, taking his hands in yours, expectant of whatever he’s going to say, because you know that he has it on the tip of his tongue. “Wanna lie down? Or sit down for a bit?”

Steve understands. He bites his lip. “Um…” He stays in silence for a while after that, so you take it as a refusal. You’re truly worried at this point.

You give him some encouragement. “Is anything wrong, sweetheart? Or was it that way at work?”

“Uh…” Steve looks skittish. You’ve never seen him quite like this. “I guess you could say so. But it’s…” He heaves out a breath and looks down. “God. It’s so embarrassing.”

“Anything you wanna tell me, baby, know that I’ll never judge you for it.” You rub circles on the insides of his wrists.

“Okay…”

God. He’s so quiet it’s almost creeping you out. You want him to say what’s on his mind so bad, but you don’t want to rush him, so you just stand there, awaiting his next words.

“So, um…” Steve purses his lips, feeling the tips of his ears burning. He still doesn’t look up. “You know the other day, when we, um…”

Your heart sinks. You’re so sure he’s going to say something along the lines of ‘I hated this and that and I didn’t want to say it at the time’. You just stand there, trying to not let the panic show on your face. “Yeah?”

He doesn’t notice, since his eyes are glued to the floor. “Wh-When we were…” He exhales, and it comes out a bit whiny. “It’s so hard to say this.”

You decide to put him out of his misery. “Something you didn’t like?”

At that, Steve looks up at you quickly in confusion. “Um. No? Actually…” He bites his lip, unable to even give you a nervous smile. “I, um… might have liked it too much.”

You try to not let the relief you feel be too obvious. “Oh.”

“Y-Yeah. So, I, um… I might have… done more research? And…” He whines from the embarrassment.

“Yeah?”, you encourage him, because this ‘research’ he’s talking about feels just too good to be true. “That’s amazing. What did you find?”

“Well…” Steve looks you in the eye for one second before he decides it’s too much for him, whines again, and hides his face in your chest.

You chuckle in compassion. You kiss the top of his head. “Go on?”

Steve takes a deep breath. He tilts his head so you can see some of his face. “Well, I kind of… tried some stuff.”

“Some stuff?”, you press on, almost desperate to know more. “That’s great, babe. What’s wrong with it?”

At the reminder that there is something wrong, Steve seems to deflate. “I’m getting there.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

He chuckles softly. Next, he encircles your torso with his arms, noticing how you’ve done the same to him. “I kind of… I don’t know… liked it but also didn’t, so it was kind of disappointing. And I got really bitchy afterwards because I thought I had it down.” Steve looks up at you with the saddest, most adorable eyes from his position on your chest as he kept speaking freely. “And I’m also kind of mad at myself because I think I did it right, but it wasn’t what I expected. And…” He seems to get shy again. “And I wanted to… do more… with you… but I don’t know if I’m doing it wrong, or if it’s something I really don’t like.”

You card your fingers through his hair, knowing how hard it is for him to talk about something like this. You lift his head, with your right hand under his chin, and let his pretty face look at you. “You’re so brave for telling me this, honey.” You give him a slow, sweet kiss on the lips that seems to soothe his nerves. Now, you let him know just how supportive you are. “Just to make sure, is this something you want to like? Or is it something you feel like you have to like to make me happy?” You raise your eyebrow at him, jokingly scolding him, and he knows what you’re about to say, because he looks equally exasperated and amused. “What did we say about expectations and roles?”

“I know,” he says, a small genuine smile on his face. He bites his lip. “I want to like it. For myself.”

“Good.”

Steve unconsciously catches his breath at that and carries on. “I’m just not sure if I’m doing it right.”

“Okay,” you conclude. “So let’s get this straight: you’re talking about…” Your hands lower down his back, until your fingertips are touching the rim of his pants. “Playing with this?” They stray lower, until you can feel up his cheeks on your hands, over the denim. “As in, anal?”

Steve’s face gets so red once the word is out. He nods.

“Okay. Did you use a toy? Or fingers? Something else?”

He hides his face in your chest again. “F-Fingers.”

“Cool. What did it feel like?”

Steve’s eyes stray downwards, and he chews on his lower lip, trying to find the words. “It was… sort of intense? It was kind of good but also weird. And I was expecting it to feel a lot better since, you know…” Steve looks like he’s about to break into nervous laughter. “But… I don’t know what I was expecting, honestly.”

You purse your lips in thought. “Did you reach your prostate?”

Steve shakes his head. “No. I know about it since I read— I mean… during my research…” His lips tremble in a shy smile.

You chuckle. He was just so adorable. “What would this research be, if I may know?”

“Well. Kind of… a magazine?”

“Ooh. And did it tell you where it was?”

“It did. But I just couldn’t find it for some reason.”

You hum while carding your fingers through his hair. You’re almost sure this entire talk might be doing something to Steve, but you don’t want to push just yet. “That might be a very good reason why you didn’t like it that much. The prostate is extremely important for this.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep. If you’ve never felt naturally inclined to do any sort of anal play, it’s most probable that you might not feel pleasure just from anal itself. You’d need something more.”

Steve puts the tiniest bit of space between you two to look at you better. In doing so, you notice his state of arousal, which proves that he is a bit pent up over this.

When he realizes this, he shifts in place, subtly trying to cover himself, looking at you sheepishly.

You chuckle, grabbing his chin and laying a hot kiss on his lips. “Baby. ‘This talk doing something for you?”

Steve bites his lip and shyly nods.

Your hands tentatively slide under his shirt, resting on the sides of his hips within it. “Tell you what. Someday… if you want, that is… I could help you with this. We could play a little to see if we find a fix.”

At this, Steve sucks his lips into his teeth, like he’s trying not to laugh, and his face takes on a deep shade of pink. “Um… well…”

“Yeah?” You’re eager now, knowing he’s onto something.

“You could… right now, if you want?”

“Oh, babe.” Your hands slide underneath his polo shirt until they reach the middle part of his back. “You mean…?”

“I… kind of… today, I… before I came here…” Steve fidgets with the rim on the back of your shirt. “Again. W-With fingers— Like— I tried to see if…”

You give him a steamy kiss to put him out of his misery. He whines lowly within it, and moans when you open his mouth to rub your tongue against his. You separate too soon for his liking. “Yeah? Played with yourself?”

Steve is so abashed he can only nod.

“That’s so hot. I bet you’re so pent up right now.” Your hands return to the rim of his polo, and start pulling it up to his midriff, looking at him in question, to which he eagerly nods. You take off his shirt and leave it on the bed.

He’s on you the moment you return to him. His sudden kiss leaves you breathless, but it only makes you chuckle. His jittery hands pull at the rim of your shirt and you comply, quickly taking it off.

After some moments of haste, you’re both completely bare to each other, returning to that prolonged kiss you can’t get enough of. Your hands stray lower and lower down his back.

You withdraw long enough to breathe out: “Cool if I do this?”, before lowering your hands to the top of his cheeks.

Steve gasps. He nods, almost vibrating against you.

You chuckle, and take each of his glutes in a firm handful each.

He whines as you play with him, looking at you from under his lashes. You lean forward, and lay heavy kisses down his neck.

“Oh, fuck.” A little bite has his legs twitching on the floor. “Fuck!” A long lick from the hollow of his clavicles to the side of his jaw while you massage each handful has him moaning intelligibly.

Two fingers of your right hand suddenly rubbing against his hole have him jumping almost a foot in the air. “Okay?”

Steve’s moans are airy. “That’s…” He breathes in and out as you rub up and down the sensitive skin. “G-Good.”

You finish this with a steamy kiss on his lips, before laying your hands on his hips. “Let’s go to the bed?”

“Yeah.”

After you’re done leading him to the side of the bed that has the night table next to it, you both sit down and continue kissing and caressing each other for some seconds.

You know Steve’s impatient. You have to make this good for him, have to prove to him that he could totally like this, so, after you withdraw from his lips, without taking your eyes off him, you reach out and open the drawer, taking out a tube of lube and a condom.

Steve’s eyes land on the square packet, almost nervously.

“Don’t worry, babe. It’s not what you’re thinking.”

He bites his lip. “Um… what is it, then?”, he asks, apprehensively.

“Let me tell you.” You leave the objects in the space between you and Steve on the mattress. With your right hand, you shift Steve’s legs to part them. He lets you, albeit hesitantly, unsure of what you’re planning. You grab the condom and show it to him. “Sometimes, people who have any sort of anal play with others might use condoms for whatever they’re gonna be inserting into the other, even if it’s not a dick.”

“Really?”, he sighs out, almost relieved.

“Yeah. They might use it for toys or even fingers. So I’m asking you now: do you want me to wear this when I’m fingering you?”

Steve’s face burns at your bluntness, but he takes the time to think it over. “Hm. Is it necessary?”

“Not as much as it is for anal sex per se. Depends on how worried you are about contracting STI’s, which is pretty much a null possibility. Our results looked pretty good, if you ask me.”

Indeed. The doctors cleared you both something like a week ago.

“It’s whatever you want, babe. I’m okay with either.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “Maybe you could not wear it? I kind of… need to feel it properly if I’m gonna be doing it later on my own.” Steve turns giggly as his face darkens.

You chuckle as well. “Now, that’s a pretty picture.” You start leaning forward into Steve, hearing his giddy intake of breath when he feels you rearranging him on the bed, until he’s half lying down in the center of it. You muse for a second. “In fact… I’d be totally okay if you tried that right now.” Steve’s mouth quirks in a demure smile. “You know, to see what you’re doing wrong.”

He rolls his eyes. “Of course. Just for that.” He bites his lip, pink on the face, because he will do it, just because your encouragement makes him all warm inside. He grabs your lube, pouring some on the fingers of his right hand, and then leaves it aside. “Fair warning, though. It might be kind of unsexy. I’m gonna be flagging.”

“That’s normal. It’s not easy to remain hard just from anal.”

He smiles. “Yeah, well…”, he trails off.

And he starts. He lowers both hands to the area near his groin, his left one going for his cock, stroking himself in order to relax, before rubbing the lubed fingers of his right hand on his hole. He exhales.

You wonder at the sight. Steve lightly squirms from your pointed gaze, but he continues on nonetheless. His middle finger enters him without much trouble, due to having played with himself previously. He doesn’t make much noise, apart from the occasional exhalation.

“How’s that feel?”, you ask him.

“Underwhelming.” Steve’s expression resembles a grimace, but he valiantly tries to give you a little grin. He quickly makes way for a second finger, which takes a bit longer to enter, but when he does, you can see the subtle shift in his features. He looks like it’s a bit of a strain for him. “It feels only sort of better right now.”

“Because of the stretch?”

“Yeah.”

You hum. The visual is breathtaking. If only Steve could see himself right now, he’d know that you don’t need much more than this to go. Still, you feel kind of bad for thinking this when he’s clearly not enjoying it thoroughly. “Try to search for your prostate. It should feel like a spongy patch.”

“I’m trying, now.” Steve shifts his hand, probably moving his fingers inside him.

After some seconds, you see his shoulders slump.

“I can’t.” He sounds petulant about it.

You click your tongue. “Poor baby. Maybe I could do it for you?” And his face takes on the red hue it’d lost during his act. He bites his lip. “If you want, of course.”

Steve licks his lips. That certainly sounds nice. He nods, biting his lip as he takes his fingers out, wincing at the empty feel. Once they’re out, he looks around, hand hovering in the air for some seconds, before he lays that hand on his thigh, not quite knowing what to do.

You pull some tissues from the box atop the night table and give them to him, to which he looks grateful and cleans his hand.

“Just leave it there,” you tell him, and he drops the tissue next to him on the bed.

Now, you lean forward. Just as you were expecting, he gives you that demure expression before you take his lips in a slow kiss, opening his mouth just in time for him to lay his tongue on yours. You kiss him for some moments, rubbing your hands up and down his torso, playing with the hair on his chest and his nipples until you’ve got him panting against your mouth.

Before you withdraw completely, you bite his lower lip, to which he gasps. “Now I’ve got you all hot and bothered.” Steve smiles, head tilted down to his chest. “Were you all hot and bothered when you tried to finger yourself, too?”

“Sort of. Not as much as right now.” Steve parts his legs wider, something that has you ready to go.

“I’m flattered.” Still leaning into his space, sharing the same air, your right hand sneakily goes down his belly until you can grasp his hard cock. He breathes out, minutely thrusting up and down into your fist. Your fondling doesn’t last for too long. Your right hand releases his cock and slides over his testes, lower and lower, until you’ve got four main fingers resting on the juncture of his thigh and hip and your thumb against his perineum. “I want you to feel something.”

Steve gives you a heady look, heart almost beating out of his chest at the soft contact. “What?”, he whispers.

Your thumb presses against his perineum.

Steve’s body seizes. He gives you the prettiest, loudest moan, and his body curls into your hand for a moment before dropping on the bed, at the same time that you release the pressure.

“Fuck… What the fuck is that?” He runs a hand through his hair, looking at you in wonder.

“That is your prostate.” You smile at him.

“Oh my God.” Steve laughs softly.

“Yeah. Now imagine that, but…” You muse for a second. “Ten times more intense.”

Steve gives you an almost panicked look, but you know it’s in the best way, because he finds himself muttering: “Holy fuck…”

“Now you know why so many gay men like to bottom.” Your thumb rubs the skin of his perineum without pressing forward, something that makes Steve antsy with pleasure. Then, your hand slides downward, until your thumb can rub against the tight furl of his hole.

Steve bites his lip to hold back his desperate moan.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, you’ll see. I bet I could make you come just from your prostate.”

“Fuck,” Steve breathes out. “Is that even possible?”

“Yeah. After this, you’ll be able to do it to yourself. Trust me. Once you start, you can never stop. It just feels so good.” Your thumb presses in without much intent; you only do it to hear Steve’s frantic breathing increasing. “With time, your body might learn how to get pleasure just from penetration alone.”

“Ah, fuck. I can— I can totally see it.”

“Yeah.” You lay a heavy kiss on his lips. “I could get you all needy when you do.” Your hand now rests in front of his ass, middle and ring finger rubbing up and down his hole. His legs twitch. “Make you want a real cock in place of fingers. If you want,” you clarify when you spot Steve’s big eyes glancing at you with something that looks like nervousness, which, in reality, is pure unadulterated want.

He nods fervently. He subtly pushes his hips towards you, letting you know how ready he is for you to start.

So you do. You quickly grab the tube and pour lubricant on the fingers of your right hand. As soon as you press the tips of two fingers against his hole, his hips twitch, and he makes the smallest sound that has your cock throbbing.

“Good. Let’s just start with one since my fingers are thicker.”

God. Steve seems to only now recall this fact. It only serves to turn him even more flustered. He nods.

The tip of your middle finger starts pressing forward. To be fair, it’s not too difficult to breach him, since he played with himself using two fingers before he arrived, but doing it himself is so different from feeling someone else do it for him.

When the tip of your finger enters him, his lungs seem to run out of air. He clenches harshly around you.

“I’m gonna need you to relax, baby.”

Steve pants. “I’m trying. It’s just… so intense.”

You understand him, of course. Your left hand goes to his cock and you start stroking him at a leisured pace.

He gives you the smallest moan. Once you feel like he won’t clamp down on you, you continue entering him with your finger, until it’s down to the last knuckle.

Steve keeps on breathing heavy, but there’s a small smile on his face. “Oh my God. That’s so…”

“How is it?”

“Better than on my own.”

You nod. “I wanna put two in before I start feeling for your prostate. I promise it’s gonna feel real good like that.”

“Yeah.” Steve nods with a blush high on his face.

You pull your middle finger out until only the tip is in. Your ring finger rubs softly against his rim, next to your middle one, before you start pushing both fingers forward.

Steve clenches down, gritting his teeth from the small strain.

“Hm. Can’t have you clamping down on me like this, sweetheart. How about you try to push out a bit?”

“‘Push out’? Oh my God,” Steve laughs, embarrassed. Covers his mouth but does as he’s told.

Your two fingers push in to the last knuckle way too easily after this, so much so that Steve’s left panting, his arms buckling and ending up having to lean on his right elbow.

“Oh my God,” Steve repeats. His cock is only half-hard by now; in spite of this, he feels it kicking at the stretch.

You still your two fingers inside him, waiting for him to get used. When you hear Steve’s heavy breathing calm down, you decide to start thrusting them in and out.

He clenches down and makes small whines.

“Too much?”, you ask softly, as you stop your motions.

Steve gives you a half-smile, half-grimace. “Hm… I don’t know, honestly.”

You think you see some of his previous frustration seep into his expression, so you decide to not tease him anymore.

Your fingertips press against the upper part of his walls. Steve bites his lower lip, knowing what you’re trying to do.

It takes some long seconds of exploration, but when it happens, it’s a sight to behold.

Steve shouts. His face is the best part: pinched tight in a perfect mix between shock and pleasure. His entire body twitches against your hand. His legs kick for a second, and his cock hardens in front of you, before he slumps against the bed.

“Holy fuck,” is all he can pant out, left hand against his beating heart.

“There it is.” You smirk at Steve, and he only has a brief second to catch his breath and look at you in euphoric torment before you’re suddenly thrusting right against that spot, focusing on bringing the most prolonged and intense reactions out of him.

And you certainly fulfill this task to the maximum, if the long, whiny moans coming out of your boyfriend are indicative enough. Steve grabs at his own knees to try to keep himself as open as possible, because the forceful twitches of his body have him closing them without meaning to, too uncoordinated to do anything other than suffer from pleasure. When he can’t even coordinate his hands anymore just for that, he has no option but to thrash on the bed.

This is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Steve’s expressions are some of the prettiest, most arousing you’ve had the honor of witnessing. The way his eyebrows pinch and his eyes shut tight, mouth open to let out airy moans, is something that won’t leave your mind alone for the foreseeable future.

Steve opens those beautiful eyes just in time to beg you with them to not stop, and you don’t need any verbal ratification to understand.

Your fingers move in circles against the bundle of nerves, and his legs shake so bad you’re afraid he might start cramping at any given moment. Steve is laid out on the bed, almost unable to comprehend the amount of pleasure you’re giving him, unable to even open his eyes to witness this.

“Oh my God,” is all he can moan. It’s so endearing, the way he keeps his left hand over his chest, like he’s trying to will his heart into not beating so fast.

“Ever thought it could feel like this?”

“N-No. Not at all— fuck!” His left hand leaves his chest and goes up to his mouth, covering it, as if he doesn’t know what to do with it. “I-It feels… Fuck, it feels kinda weird too, like I’m gonna…” Steve takes his hard cock in his right hand, gritting his teeth when he feels like there’s going to be a rush of something other than cum in any second.

You chuckle. “That’s normal.” You softly take his right hand in your free one, leaving it aside without much resistance. “Look at that. You’re all hard just from this. That’s so good.” Steve breathes out a series of short moans behind his hand after you say this, looking at you with a bit of newfound shyness, even now that he’s laid out, taking your fingers in him.

“Y-You think it’s good?” He squirms when you give slow, deep thrusts against his prostate.

“Oh, baby. It is. It’s so good. You’re doing so good for me.”

Sweet boy. Does he really think covering his face with one hand will hide him from you noticing his deep blush?

You give him the quietest chuckle. “Look at this for one second, babe?”

Steve lowers his hand until only his mouth is being concealed, looking at you while debating himself on doing it or not, but he ends up bringing it down to hold himself up on quivering arms while you give him short, less intense thrusts with your fingers.

He leans up until he’s half sitting up, looking at your wrist.

“Would you look at that,” you drawl out, pointing at your moving hand with a nod.

Steve looks. His cock releases a steady stream of pre-cum at the sight.

Because right now, he’s looking at you doing to him the same thing he used to do to so many girls: you’re finger-fucking him with the two fingers in the middle, index and pinky ones pressed flat against the sides of them.

Just like a girl.

Steve feels faint at the sight. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Oh, yeah?” You resume a fast, intense pace, your fingers making squelching noises when your palm meets his skin.

Steve his moaning through his teeth, unable to hold himself up anymore and leaning back on his trembling arms, on his elbows. His legs twitch restlessly, and he’s helpless to stop himself.

He grits his teeth not only at the pleasure, but at the intense feeling growing on him with each passing second. His right hand rests on his heavy cock. “I— I c-can’t— I really feel like I’m gonna…”

You know what he’s referring to. “It’s okay. Just let it happen. I promise it’s nothing bad.”

Steve trembles, writhes, sways from one side to the other one as he tries to fight the feeling. “I— can’t.”

The truth is, Steve can. He’s just too scared about the novelty of this one orgasm, because he knows it’s not going to be gentle on him, and it’s something so new it frightens him. The thought of its magnitude makes his heart beat even faster and has him terrified at the same time.

“Okay, baby.” Your left hand goes on his cock, and you start rubbing him up and down quickly.

“Ah, fuck— I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” You chuckle. “You did so good, baby.”

Steve’s body starts curling in itself. “Ah—! Did I?”

“Yeah, you did.”

Before Steve’s overwhelmed eyes, you slide down the bed until your face is at the same level as his cock.

“You were so good for me. You deserve a reward.”

And you just manage to give him a little suck while you stroke him and finger him, right on his glans, before his eyes roll back and he’s cumming harder than he’s ever had.

The noises he makes are so— animalistic. His face crumples in the most euphoric agony, and his body curls against your head, like he can’t take such amount of pleasure, like he’s trying to push you off.

But he isn’t.

He comes, and comes, and comes into your mouth, his orgasm seeming to never end, and his own body not giving him a second of respite. You just swallow as much cum as he’ll give you, because you just can’t stop giving him pleasure, either, still bobbing your head up and down in short strokes to prolong this. Your fingers haven’t stopped, either. You’re pretty sure you might be overdoing it by this point, but the way he can’t stop moaning and whimpering as you keep on rubbing circles against his gland tells you he’s enjoying this too much.

At last, his body stops twitching so much. He drops on the bed. You take this as your cue to lift off him, licking the last traces of his cum off your lips before you give his slumped face a smile, removing your fingers from inside him.

God. Steve’s eyes are so glazed over behind barely-opened eyelids that you wouldn’t be surprised if he can’t focus his sight for minutes after this. His chest heaves quickly on the mattress, left hand loosely on the left side of it, no doubt trying to calm down his thumping heart.

You can’t help yourself. You slide up all the way until you’re kneeling before him, and your right hand lowers to your painfully-hard cock.

He looks like he just got fucked.

Steve comes to only seconds after you’ve started a quick pace with your hand.

You chuckle at his barely-there expression. “That was a strong one, wasn’t it?”, you grunt out, already feeling close.

Steve’s breathing doesn’t get any slower than as it is right now. He reaches forward with a trembling right hand, hovering under your cock.

“Just rest, babe. You can barely move.”

“No, I… I need to. Didn’t even touch you yet.” He looks sheepish. “Sorry. I get so stupid when I’m horny, I forget to do anything else.”

You give him a wolfish grin. “That’s not a problem at all.” You feel a pull at your gut. “In fact, I’d say it’s hot as fuck. But if you really want to…” You take his lax right hand in yours and manipulate it until it’s circling your cock.

You then start fucking his fist.

Steve’s mouth opens in a silent gasp as he feels the friction of your cock thrusting in and out of the tunnel of his fingers. His spent cock makes a brave attempt of filling again.

Only a few more thrusts are enough to have you grunting, increasing in volume as the only warning you can give him before you’re coming long lines on his torso.

Steve gasps at this. The heat that hits his chest, along with the visual of your cock virtually fucking him, is enough to have him almost dipping into a gentler state of mind, something that makes him panic for the briefest second before he’s pulled out of that place when he hears you grunt out for the last time.

You didn’t notice his predicament, so when you come to and take note of Steve’s spooked eyes, you take his drenched hand in yours. “Babe, you okay?”, you ask him, concerned.

Steve nods, reassuring. “Yeah. That was just… kind of intense.” He chuckles. A blush sits high on his cheeks as he looks at you, at the same time that he brings his soaked hand close to his lips. “Now it’s my turn,” he says, albeit a bit uncertainly, referring to when you swallowed him.

“You don’t have to.” But fuck if the visual doesn’t make your spent cock throb again.

He doesn’t answer. Only looks at you with the most smoldering expression on his face while he opens his mouth, brings his cum-stained fingers into it, sucks, swallows, and…

Tries to hide a grossed-looking grimace. “Um.”

You openly laugh at him, dropping next to him on the bed while he still has you in stitches.

Steve hits you on the chest with that same hand while he pouts. “Don’t— fucking laugh, man. I was trying to have a moment.” But he’s trying to hold back a laugh as well. “How the hell did you swallow… that so easily?”

You try to calm down enough to answer. “You just get used to the taste.”

His mouth purses, and his grimace just makes you start laughing again. “Is that what I taste like, too? Jesus. I mean—! No offense.”

Steve can only hide his own smile with a pout when that just makes you laugh harder.

VII.

Steve’s newfound good mood is contagious. Robin is almost afraid at this point. She thinks his mood swings are so over the place as of lately that he needs some sort of emotional support. Continuously, she asks him if he’s really feeling fine, to which he answers with nonchalance.

He obviously can’t tell her exactly what’s got him so happy.

It’s not just a single thing. It’s not just the fact that you helped him overcome his frustration after being so pent up.

It’s also the fact that, yes, he recently found out that he could do it himself…

And yes. He can get aroused just from penetration alone.

In fact, Steve’s almost embarrassed by how much his libido has gone up these past few days, namely because he now actually craves penetration at times.

He bites his lip on his way home from work, pupils dilated as he fights to keep his hard-on down within the privacy of his car, because he wants it right now. He wants to use his fingers on himself, wants to keep adding to feel the stretch.

Wants to get ready for you.

So he doesn’t bother to get comfortable before he climbs out his car in a haste, almost forgetting to close his entrance door with key before going up the stairs, heading straight for the shower.

Steve is splayed on the bed and has two fingers inside himself, this time from his left hand, so that he can stroke himself easily with his right one. He’s done this exact thing every single day this week, attempting to imitate your movements from a week ago, hoping to replicate that glorious moment.

It’s never the same as if you were the one doing it to him, but it still makes him come harder than all the previous years before this.

Currently, he’s scissoring himself open, gasping out at the small stretch. He has his eyes to the ceiling, picturing you instead of him. Your two thick fingers felt so amazing in him, stretching him out so much more than he could with his own.

Steve recalls the feel of your cock in his hand, so big he almost can’t close his fingers around it completely.

Oh, fuck. He always forgets how big you are. The size of it scares him a little, but when he’s so horny like this he feels like he could take you, at all costs.

Still. He needs to prepare for it if he’s really going to ask you for it later.

So he pulls his two fingers out, until only the tip of them are in, and tightly presses his index against them, gently thrusting in to get all three of them inside him at the same time. It’s a snug fit, and he finds it’s more difficult to add something as scant as a single finger inside, but he presses on.

It burns, but Steve manages to push three fingers in to the last knuckle.

And then, he wants more. Because the stretch, which has become more intense now, sets off different reactions in him that he could have never imagined.

And so he doesn’t wait long enough to get used to the current stretch, and he tries to push in the last finger, his pinky one into himself. But he finds that it’s sort of too much, the strain he puts on himself causing mixed, overwhelming sensations, but even that doesn’t stop him.

With a great amount of mental effort, he slips the last finger into himself, and—!

And it’s such a big stretch that it has him hissing behind gritted teeth, and it still doesn’t stop him as he starts thrusting in and out of himself, not waiting to get used to the pressure as he strokes his cock faster and faster—

Steve cums without even reaching his prostate. He feels his hole clench repeatedly, tight around his own fingers, at the same time he releases onto his chest, heaving in gasps from an open smiling mouth because it feels so good.

When he’s done, he slumps against the bed, fingers pulling out but pushing in one last time as he feels an overwhelming current of painful pleasure from it, and isn’t that an idea for another time?

At last, he pulls out completely, a resolute thought resounding in his mind:

Steve needs you to fuck him.

He doesn’t even attempt to wait in order to not look so pent up. He calls you only one hour later.

He breathes out: “Hi,” before you can even exchange greetings and ask who it is.

“Hey, baby,” you chuckle. “You sound eager.”

“Well… maybe.”

You hum in agreement, now eager as well, sensing he’s going to say something you’re going to like a lot. “Why would that be?”

“Um… well, you see…” The way he’s speaking tells you he’s probably blushing; you just know him like that. There’s a brief silence after this, before he continues. “Can I… If you’re free, I mean…”

“Yes?”, you say teasingly.

“I was… I was wondering if I could…”

“Yeees?”

You hear something that sounds like a mix between a whine and a groan. “You’re going to make me say it.”

“Yep.” Your voice now takes on a lower, more smoldering quality. “If you want something, you have to ask for it, baby.”

There’s an intake of breath on the other side of the line. Then, the smallest of whimpers. “Okay,” he croaks out. “Do you think I could come over?”

“Sure. Movie, snacks, and cuddles it is.”

He’s so fun to tease. You obviously know what he wants, but it’s just so fulfilling to hear the petulant groan he gives you. “Not what I meant…”, is his almost inaudible response.

“Sorry. I didn’t quite catch that. Can you repeat it for me?” Your face hurts from the way you’re smiling so widely.

On the line, he groans, and you hear a series of… taps?

Oh, he’s probably kicking his feet against the floor, just in the way he does when he’s so abashed it physically hurts him.

You openly laugh at him. “Alright. No more teasing. Come over already.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

“Just don’t stretch yourself too much. I wanna have my fun, too.”

“Holy fuck—” is the last thing you hear before he hangs up on you.

You’re left laughing loudly.

At last, Steve steps foot on the threshold of your house, finally about to get what he’s been aching for.

He raises his hand to knock, but he’s taken aback when the door opens in his face before he can do so.

It seems he’s not the only eager one.

“Hey, there.”

“Hi,” he answers, bashfully. It hits him only now, that he’s about to do this. He tries to cover it with a smug expression. “Were you waiting for me behind the door?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Nooo. Why would you think that?” You put your right hand on the low of his back to guide him in before he can answer. “Just come inside already.”

Steve snorts, and his face takes on a deep shade of red as he mumbles: “Pretty sure that’s my line— I mean.”

You give him a wolfish smile. You close the door, and immediately you push him against it, leaning into his space without kissing him, only giving him a pointed look that he squirms under. “You know, you’re being a lot more overt than usual, did you know?” You lean down, your lips almost brushing his. “Why’s that? Hm? Something on your mind?”

Steve makes that shy, quivering smile and tops it off with the straying eyes. It might be seen as part of this little game, but you know Steve well enough to know that he’s feeling truly bashful right now. “You know what it is,” he whines out.

“Hm, but I don’t. I think you should spell it out for me.” Your right hand goes under his chin. You tilt his head to be facing yours in a better way, using your thumb to rub against his skin. By this point, you’re positive that you can try out something related to his glaring praise kink. “Eyes on me, sweet thing.”

He moans airily. Steve looks at you, seeming to want to obey you at all costs, even if that makes his face burn and his heart feel like it’s going to beat out of his chest.

“Tell me, baby.” You speak with your mouth directly onto his, in a sensual caress of sorts.

Steve heaves out. “I— want you to fuck me.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, you push your lips onto his in a steamy kiss that has him closing his eyes from the intensity. His arms wrap around your neck, hands going down your back to grab at whatever part of your shirt he can. Your hands, conversely, hold onto the sides of his hips, quickly sliding under his polo to stroke up his ribs.

He moans within the kiss, which finishes too soon for his liking.

“That’s so good, baby. You’re such a good boy for me.”

Steve almost yells from how loud he moans. Rushes to lean his face on the side of your neck, almost mortified by his own reaction. The tip of his right shoe kicks softly against the floor.

You chuckle next to his ear. “You like me calling you ‘good’?”

He doesn’t remove his face from your shoulder; he only nods against it, blushing so hard you can see it spread down his nape.

You chuckle against his ear. “That’s good to hear. Now, be good and follow me to my room.”

Steve’s eye peeks from against your shoulder. He’s feeling so sheepish he almost can’t speak. “Okay,” he croaks out lowly.

You lean back some until he can no longer hide into your neck, enough that you can see the deep shade of pink his face has taken. Your right arm goes around his waist now; you use this leverage to lead him towards your bedroom. “Feeling fine?”, you have to ask while you walk, because you know that this is a very big step, and that he probably needs the highest level of reassurance.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I just… You’re kinda making me feel the way I probably made girls feel.” He laughs nervously.

You chuckle as well. Once you’re behind the threshold of your bedroom door, you close it, noticing his low intake of breath at the action. “What’s that mean?”

“Just…” Steve’s hands find yours and he plays with them to anchor himself. He shakes his head shyly, his foot twisting, like he doesn’t want to answer.

“Small?”, you venture, and his little nod and bite of the lip confirm it. That makes you smile. “That’s fine.” You rub his hands with your thumbs. Then, you pull him closer to the bed. “I’m here to make you feel nice and safe.”

Steve looks up at you with a small shaky smile. He closes the distance, giving you a soft kiss on the lips. “Thanks.”

He blushes when you chuckle at him. “Don’t thank me over that. It’s just my duty.” And he’s left breathless when you slide your hands under his polo shirt, high enough to start lifting it up to his middle. “Now… how about I take off your clothes so I can make you feel real good? Hm?”

At his shy nod, you slide his shirt up and off him, immediately going for his lips after it, gliding your rough hands over his torso, playing with the hair on his chest. Steve moans inside the kiss when he feels you thumbing at his nipples. When you withdraw, your mouth finds its way to the right side of his neck, leaving hot trails with lips and teeth. He moans softly, grabbing at the rim of your shirt and pulling it up with eagerness. You chuckle at him. You allow him to pull it off you, and the moment it’s on the floor, the pounces on you just like you’ve done to him. Steve attacks your mouth with an impatience you haven’t seen before, but that’s fine. That just makes you smile within the kiss, because you’re so glad Steve’s found something he likes that you can both passionately agree on.

Steve pulls back from the kiss, flushed, but raising an eyebrow at your obvious smile. You decide to distract him, feeling for his button and zipper, and you fulfill this mission, since you can see and hear his enthusiastic response to this. Quickly, you undo the front of his pants, and before you pull them down, you take Steve by the shoulders and gently push him down the bed, until he’s sitting down by the end of it. His hands support his weight behind him, and for this brief second, he looks up and up at you, because you standing before him forces him to lift his head to look at you, and he feels so hazy he has to subtly cross his legs at this, mindful of his now fully-hard cock tenting the front of his jeans.

But you don’t let him. Your hands push his knees outwards at the same time you lower yourself to kneel before him, and this vision has him gasping out and leaking just from that.

You wink at him from your position on the floor. Swiftly undoing his shoes and taking them off, your hands reach forward for the rim of his pants, and as he looks at you in a daze, your fingers hook right under the edge of his underwear, and you start pulling his lower garments down at once, giving him a gruff little laugh when his very hard cock is released from its confines with a small rebound.

When it’s off him and he’s bare before you, you lift yourself up using his thighs as leverage and start leaning towards him, in a low prowl, until you’re hovering over him with your hands on the sides of his head.

Steve’s nervous hands jitter down your torso, all the way to the rim of your own pants, and he makes quick work of the button and zipper. He pointedly looks at his hands, so as to not lose his nerve at your searing gaze. When he’s done, he ventures a quick glance at your eyes, but quickly looks down again as he starts slipping your lower garments off you.

You haven’t stopped looking at him throughout this. Your eyes just can’t leave his rosy face and nervous bites of his lips as you shift above him to help him undress you.

Once you’re both nude, it seems to hit him that you’re both going to do this. Steve’s demeanor changes into one of agitation. He finally looks at you, a nervous, quivery smile on his mouth, though you understand that he’s looking for reassurance now, which you’ll easily give to him.

You lower your head to his and kiss his worries away. “Let’s start slowly, yeah?”, you say, almost in a whisper, all but reading his thoughts, since his torso seems to deflate at that.

“Yeah,” he breathes out.

There’s a little grin on your face now. You lean back to let Steve rearrange himself on the mattress, until he’s lying in the middle of it with you on top of him.

Your hands rest on top of his knees, sliding all the way down to his groin, but before they get there, Steve lays his own on top of yours. “Wait. Before we start…”

“Yeah?”, you ask, about to be concerned.

“Um… W-Well, you said on the phone… But I’d already— Uh…”

You exhale a laugh at his little stammering. “What, sweetheart?”

“Uhhh…” Steve smiles shakily. “Y-You said…”

“I said…?”

“You s-said… you wanted to have your fun, too, but I’d already— By that point, I’d…” Steve covers his nervous giggle with his right hand and looks elsewhere.

A heavy current of pleasure drops down your belly. “Oh, baby.” Your hands lower to the juncture between his legs and groin, fondling the surrounding place without giving him what he wants, to which he whimpers. “Did you stretch yourself?”

“Ah— I mean… I called you like an hour after that?” His voice is nothing more than a whisper now.

He tries to hide from the weight of your gaze behind his hands but—

Your hands hold onto his wrists. You gently push them against the sides of his head.

Steve’s eyes glaze over.

“How many?”, comes your rumbling voice.

And he has to inhale heavily, in vain, because his response comes as a whisper. “Four.”

You use the grip on his wrists as leverage to push yourself onto him, and he allows you and welcomes you into his open mouth. Your tongue pushes into his mouth, and he has the frenzied realization that you’re virtually fucking his mouth with it.

Steve cries out. His eyes roll back as he feels himself leaking.

He tries to prolong the feel, but you pull back too soon, and he finds himself whining at the loss.

“Got yourself all nice and open for me? That’s so good, baby.” Your heavy, grumbling voice against his lips has him trying to cross his legs uselessly, since you’re in the way.

Steve bites his lip. “Sorry,” he says, moving his legs around to caress yours, urging you to do more.

“Why are you sorry?” You laugh while you take your hands off his wrists and lay them to the sides of his head. You think you imagine the disappointment in his eyes when you do this.

“You said you wanted to…”

“That was all talk, sweetness. I absolutely do not mind that we can skip that part and go straight to the main course.”

At that, Steve can only shut his eyes tightly and bite back a moan. He opens them just as quick, embarrassed at his own reaction.

You just give him a tight-lipped smile. “Not sure if this is gonna reassure you or do the opposite, but I’m pretty sure you still need more prep before we do anything else.”

Steve’s right hand rubs at his mouth nervously. “Oh my God…”, he mumbles, even though he has a small nervous smile on his face as his eyes lower to your big erection. “Right.”

“Right,” you echo with a contrite smile. “Did you forget about it?”

“N-No. Not at all.” Steve looks up and elsewhere as he mutters the following: “You have my word.”

“Do I?”, you tease, stretching towards your night table and opening the drawer.

Steve bites his nails as he watches you do this. “Mm-hm.”

When you have the objects you were looking for in your hands, you show them to him, and he centers on the one on your right hand with an hyperfocus you’ve seldom seen on him.

Steve’s eyes rest on the condom packet with apprehension and excitement at the same time.

You lay it and the tube of lubricant on the bed, between his open legs, next to you. Leaning down to rest a quick kiss on his bitten lips, you run the fingers of your right hand through his hair. “Whenever you want to stop, just say so.”

“‘Kay,” he whispers bashfully.

You lean back, staying in a kneeling position between his parted legs, and smirk at him. “Now, I would totally like to know more about this little bit of playing you did before you came here,” you say as you open the lid of the tube.

Steve covers his mouth with his right hand as he giggles. “What’s there to know?”, he asks shyly.

You pour some lube on your right hand and rub your hands together to warm it up. “Just fun stuff. Did you find your prostate?”

Steve looks elsewhere with a shy smile. “No. I mean— Not today.” His right hand lowers to his chest, resting atop his thundering heart.

“Hm? Then how…?”

“Just…” Steve clenches his eyes shut as he giggles nervously. “Just from my fingers.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your right hand lowers to his entrance while your left hand goes to his hard cock. You don’t even need to stroke him; he’s already turned on enough from your previous teasing. “Just from the penetration alone?”

Steve nods meekly. Then, as he feels your fingers spread the lube on his already tender entrance, he lays his left hand on your wrist. “I… Let me touch you, too. Don’t wanna leave you hanging like the last time.”

You chuckle. He’s just so sweet for you. You can feel his hand shaking. Lifting your left hand from his erection, you rub the unlubed knuckles from that hand onto his own. “Let me be selfish, yeah? I wanna make this about you today.”

It’s really telling for you that he doesn’t insist. “Okay… You sure?”

Your middle and ring finger prod at his hole, leading him to gasp in short breaths. “Yes. Just leave it to me, sweetheart.”

He nods resolutely, then.

Now, at the same time that you start pushing in the two fingers in the middle, your hand returns to his hard cock, which hasn’t gone down at all— You think it might actually be harder now. Steve’s jaw drops open when he feels your two fingers start pushing in, almost easily from how much he’s stretched himself before he arrived here. Even that initial stretch feels heavenly to him: your thick fingers fill him out so good, and they feel so different from his. Whereas he’s used to his own smooth, almost delicate ones, yours are hard and rough. Thicker, too. Steve bites his lower lip as you breach him to the second knuckle, choosing to still yourself to let him get used to this small stretch.

His legs twitch to the sides of you, rubbing onto yours in a sensual caress. “Come on…”, he mumbles.

“‘Want more?”, you ask, not waiting for an answer before you push the two fingers to the last knuckle.

Steve’s back arches in a beautiful curve as he gives you the most breathless and erotic moan. He quickly lets himself fall from it just to hold himself up on his hands behind himself, half-sitting up, all to see the place where you’re joined.

You give him a small chuckle. “Oh, you wanna take a look.”

He looks up at you from under his lashes, because he does. He wants to see, and he wants to feel the same way you made him feel so many days ago. Steve’s breaths are so noisy now; he can’t stop himself when he sees and feels the way you are thrusting in and out of him, two fingers at the sides of the ones inside him just like he’s fantasized about. His feet are restless, stirring next to you on the bed, increasingly rustling the bedsheets the faster you go.

Your fingers go softly now, barely coming out of him, just to rub circles along the walls inside him in a sensual massage that has him gasping out. Your other hand is barely a caress on his cock, knowing he now doesn’t need much more than your fingers.

The tips of your fingers suddenly press up against that spot. Steve’s body curls in itself.

“Fuck…”, he finds himself choking out.

His eyes are drawn to the place that connects you two, but he finds that he can’t keep looking for much longer, because you’re pulling him into a short kiss that leaves him even more breathless. When you separate, he looks at you impatiently, and his voice is nothing more than a whisper.

“Come on. Come on.”

You chuckle through your nose. “Eager.” But you pull your fingers out and press your index one against them, beginning to push in.

There’s a brief resistance, but as Steve breathes out heavily and wills himself to relax, you manage to thrust inside, this time with more pauses in-between.

Steve’s mouth opens to draw in as much breath as he can. Putting one hand on his pounding heart, he looks at you with something that can only be described as adoration.

You give him a little smile. Taking your left hand off his member, you lay it atop his own, on his chest, gently pushing him back on the bed.

“Relax.” Your low, rumbling voice is soothing for his nerves, so he obeys. He lies on the bed, growing more restless with each second that passes.

In a weak voice, he requests: “The last one— Add the last one.”

“You sure?”, you ask, knowing that he should get used to the current stretch, but you still thrust out until you’re at his rim, adding the fourth and final finger next to the other three.

Steve nods so eagerly you have to laugh.

With a lot of patience, taking his cock in hand to soothe him further, you begin to thrust four thick fingers inside him, meeting resistance right away.

Your left hand strokes him slowly, focusing on the head to bring out the greatest amount of pleasure possible. “You have to unclench for this, baby,” you mumble out.

Right after, your right thumb presses against his perineum, drawing a startled moan out of him. You feel him clamping down on you even further for a second, and then you do it again.

Steve hides his eyes under the back of his hand, already winded from this. He can feel himself surrendering to your touches, opening up to let the tips of your fingers thrust in, just far enough to breach him. “Fuck…” His moan is prolonged as he uncovers himself, looking at the general direction of your hands.

“That’s it…”, you encourage him.

Softly, you inch in, until you have four fingers seated deep inside him.

Steve heaves in a loud breath.

“There we go. So good for me, Stevie.” His moan at this is choked off when he feels your rough fingertips moving around in him. “Feels good?”

He moans again, but cuts himself off with a short cackle. “What do you think?”

That only makes you chuckle as well. “Yeah, I bet it feels real good.” You start pulling out, loving the way his legs just can’t stay still. “Just look at how much you’re leaking, baby.” Your left hand focuses on the tip of his cock at the same time you thrust back in, drawing a small shrill sound from him.

Steve tries to look at the place you’re showing him. He does. He just can’t with the way you’re suddenly pushing up, pressing against that bundle of nerves.

He shouts.

His body trembles, his hands hold onto your wrist, his legs kick against your hips, and his own hips grind onto your hand, desperate for more of that contact.

You gladly give it to him. The more you rub circles and press harshly against his prostate, the more Steve’s resolve thins out. Sparks fly behind his eyelids as he tries to process the amount of pleasure you’re giving him, feeling himself slowly drenching your hand in pre-cum.

He can’t take much longer than this. He grabs your left wrist, stopping the movements of your hand on his cock. “N-Not gonna last if you keep…”

Your left hand leaves his cock. “Yeah. You probably can come just from my fingers, can’t you?”

And you press up inside him, at the same time you press with your thumb from the outside, and he wails.

He brings himself out of it with a giddy laugh as you begin pulling your fingers out. He rests his hand on his eyes. “You did that on purpose.”

Your smile is wolfish as you wipe your hands on the sheets, lean forward, and get closer to him. “Maybe.”

And then he’s uncovering his eyes, looking up at you as you take hold of the pillow under his head. Steve shifts to help you, and when he sees you bring that same pillow at the height of his hips, he starts biting his lip with impatience. He understands what you’re trying to do. With the help of his feet, he pushes his hips up, enough for you to slide the pillow under them, leaving him in a very vulnerable position.

You lean into him once more, and when your groins just slot together, he shivers, overwhelmed all of a sudden. You understand this, and push downward, taking his lips in a soft, soothing kiss he yields to.

Steve withdraws first because he needs to take a deep breath to not lose it. His hands grab at your shoulders, unsure of how to anchor himself.

“Need a break?”, you ask him, concerned.

He just shakes his head with vigor. Biting his lip, he wraps his legs around your hips, pushing you against him. You both moan at the contact.

You laugh. “Alright, then. Let me just…” You lean back, Steve’s hands falling from your shoulders and laying on his own chest now. You grab the packet, open it, and start rolling the ring of the condom on your cock, before Steve’s hands come to rest on yours. “Wanna help me?”, you ask.

Steve nods, unable to get the nervous smile off his face, and, with his hands under yours, he starts sliding the condom on.

Once his hand gets to your base and you’re done groaning about it, you grab the tube of lubricant and pour a generous amount on your member. You stroke yourself a couple of times before you inch closer to Steve.

And Steve looks at you with excitement and the slightest tinge of agitation before he brings his own folded legs closer to his own chest.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Hold yourself open for me,” you mumble, grabbing his right knee with your left hand and laying a kiss on it.

With your right hand, you take hold of your cock, and slowly, very slowly, start pushing inside.

Steve clamps down around you almost immediately. His throat chokes around a moan, and his legs twitch in your hold. “Sorry.”

You lay wet kisses on the inside of his right leg, your mouth twisted in a small smile. “Why?”

He chews on his nails while he looks elsewhere. “I dunno,” he mumbles, embarrassed.

That makes you smile. Your right hand leaves your cock, which is already fixed in place, ready to thrust in, and it goes around his cock. You stroke him softly for some seconds, loving the small changes in his expression, how gorgeous he looks with every single face you can pull off him. His small noises prompt you to keep stroking him, subtly pushing forward to start inching into him.

He clenches with each small inch you push inside, and as you manage to push the end of your head inside, he hisses between gritted teeth, and puts his hands on your shoulders. “Just… a second.”

“Of course,” you answer, stilling in place to let him get used to the stretch, which is quite a lot more than four of your fingers.

Steve’s eyes are also clenched shut, but after some seconds he opens them, looking at you from under his lashes, breathing heavily and quickly. He nods at you, resolutely.

You lean down to surround him completely, and his arms easily go around your shoulders, anchoring himself with you. Your mouth seeks his, and he meets you in the middle with enthusiasm, or perhaps anxiety. Steve pushes forward with his lips, trying to get the most of the kiss, and you open his mouth in turn, pushing your tongue onto his.

As you do this, your hips push forward minimally, starting to thrust yourself inside him while you distract him, but it seems to not work that well.

Steve pulls off you. “W-Wait,” he grits out. He looks at you with a grimace that he’s trying to conceal with a quivery smile, but you know him too well for that.

“Of course,” you say once again, because you’ll take as much time as he needs to. “Hurts?”

He opens his mouth to answer, but seems to lose his nerve and shyly looks to the side.

“Tell me the truth, baby.”

“Kinda…”, he mumbles.

You give him a small peck on the lips for reassurance. “That’s okay. Just tell me when you’re ready to go.”

Steve gives you the tiniest nod, too embarrassed by himself. Some seconds pass, before his restless legs rub imperceptibly around your waist, him looking at you and nodding. “Okay.”

You take your cue and start pressing forward once more, but once again, his arms cling tight around your neck and he yelps: “Wait!”

You’re halfway into him, and the way he’s clenching around you is almost sexually tortuous, but you obviously heed his word again. “Sorry. Sorry.”

Steve’s pinched expression eases up after a second, and this time, he gives you a genuine smile, pressing his mouth to the side of your neck to cover it in kisses. “You treat me so nicely,” he mumbles out, like it makes him bashful to say it.

You feel your chest soar at this. There’s a small, breathless chuckle coming straight from your chest right now. “Do I?”, you ask, even though it’s pointless, because you’re only showing him basic decency.

But your Steve still looks you in the eye and nods.

Another small chuckle, and now you’re leaning back. “Okay.”

Steve seems almost confused as your hands grab at the back of his knees, but then realizes what you’re going to do as you manipulate his legs until they’re crossed, and then place them in a right angle to his body, his ankles coming to rest above the left side of your neck. “What are we doing now?”, he asks, almost forgetting he still has half of your cock inside him.

“I’m putting your legs in a specific position that’ll help you relax better,” you explain, noticing his still-puzzled expression. “Your anus. This position helps you relax your anus.”

Steve bursts out laughing, covering his mouth with his hands because it’s just rolling off him now. You laugh with him.

“I thought it was the other way round,” Steve says. “Like, with my legs open?”

“That’s for the pussy,” you answer, and you rest your hands on his crossed knees, laying hot kisses on the expanse of his shins. Steve shivers at this. “You ready?”

Biting his lip, he nods slowly, bracing himself once again.

“Alright, sweetheart. Remember to push out, too.”

Steve laughs, almost in a sob, because you’re starting to inch forward, and this position does help him a lot, and as he does as he’s told, he finds that what felt like something impossible is now too easily possible.

Your hips meet his ass almost too quickly, sending him scrambling for a grip on the bedsheets. He breathes in and out like he’s hyperventilating. His left hand is now on his chest, trying to calm his heart down. You lower your right hand to that hand and lay it on top of it, wanting to reassure him.

His expressions. God. His expressions are something out of this world. His eyes are closed, eyebrows pinched and mouth open to let out quiet moan after moan.

As soon as Steve opens his eyes, they stray towards the place where you’re joined.

“Oh my God,” he says, almost in a whisper.

“Too much?”, you ask.

Steve shakes his head. “Just… a lot.” He bites his lip to hold back his little noises whenever he feels your cock so much as twitch inside him. His free hand covers his mouth. “So big…”, he says, almost to himself.

“Yeah?” You teasingly move your hips a minimum fraction, and that is enough to have Steve gasping out and shifting his legs onto your shoulder.

When he sees your amused expression, he almost pouts, though it’s obvious that he’s trying to look teasing, too. “You’re mean. I thought you were gonna be gentle with me…”

His words make something hot and heavy settle deep in your belly. Your grip on his legs gets tighter, and he makes the quietest little squeak at it. “Yeah. I did say that.” Your right hand rubs up and down his left thigh, going down to his cheek and fondling it to open him up more. Steve makes a breathless moan at this. “I’m gonna be so nice to you, baby. In fact, I’m gonna go real nice and slow, just so you can see how gentle I’m being with you.”

He moans openly now. Steve finds that while he likes that idea, he also craves something different in the near future.

For now, he just nods.

So you start. Using your grip on his gorgeous long legs, caressing his left one down to his ass and back up, you start pulling out of him, hearing his long intake of breath. You do this until you’re halfway into him, and then push forward until you meet his hips again. Steve breathes heavily and quickly, his jaw slack as he tries not to succumb and close his eyes to the sensations. Then, you do this again a couple of times, thrusting out and in minimally, just so that he can get used to the stretch. His legs twitch every time your hips meet his rear. His left hand has returned to his chest, and you find this so endearing; you know how nervous but excited Steve is by this, so much so that he tries to halt his pounding heart however he can.

Now your hips are pulling back further, until only the head of your cock is inside him. You push all the way into him with the same slow pace. Steve’s expressions are something wonderful. You know he can’t help himself when he clenches his eyes shut at the pleasure, but still tries to open them as soon as he can every single time.

On the next thrust, you pull back, and this time, the head of your cock starts sliding out of him.

Steve hisses and clamps down when he feels the widest part of it breaching him on its way out.

You shush him and kiss his shins. “Relax,” comes your soothing mumble.

His breaths turn quicker, and his eyes close for a brief second before he opens them again, looking at you with dazed eyes and nodding.

You feel him gradually unclench as you’re pulling out completely, the tip barely inside him. Then, you push forward once again.

Steve has less trouble to take you in this time, if the way you’re easily fitting inside with a smooth thrust is indicative enough.

And once again, he gives you a breathless moan when you’re all the way in.

“Alright there?”, you have to ask, because you know of his tendency to hide his own discomfort at times. Luckily, he gives you a genuine smile and —this makes you laugh— a thumbs-up. “Alright, you dork.”

“Yeah,” he adds on. His flushed face now takes on a darker hue. “Actually… can you go a bit faster now?” He mumbles the last part, like it embarrasses him to say so.

You laugh softly at him. “Obviously.”

Now, you’re pulling out of him all the way, and pushing back in with a bit more force than before. This leaves Steve breathless, jittery, and blissed out all the same. So you do it again and again. With each thrust, your pace increases, and the friction makes his mostly-quiet moans rise in volume. What were previously soft noises of skin slapping begin turning loud too.

You’re purposefully avoiding his prostate. You think it might be a good idea to build up to it first, so as to get him used to the stretch before you do anything, but you know it won’t be a long time now.

Steve slowly parting his legs to bring them to the sides of you tells you enough.

“Tired of that position?”

He shakes his head. “Just…” He rises his arms to encircle your shoulders, face burning at this point while you’re still thrusting in and out of him. “…wanna hold you.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” You give him what he wants.

Steve’s legs wrap around your waist as you push in and out of him. The newfound friction of your belly on his cock has his legs growing restless, his moans pouring from his lips freely now. His eyes can’t stay open for too long.

He makes the effort just to look at you, long enough to let you know he wants you to kiss him. So you do. He opens his mouth to deepen the kiss as you start going faster, small moans slipping from the spaces in-between.

Steve withdraws, already feeling breathless.

After some long moments like this, just thrusting at a moderate pace and looking at each other with — something strong, something that could shakily be called love, his face begins to show some signs of discomfort, too subtle to seem that way to any other person, but you know your boy well enough.

“Hurts?”

“Just my hips,” he talks in between moans.

You gradually slow down until your movements are minimal, something that seems to turn Steve antsy. You ignore this for a second, though there’s a smile on your face at his impatience. “Must be the position.”

You stop completely. Steve tries to not make such a loud whine at this, but it’s obvious that it doesn’t work. He blushes right after.

As you pull out completely, he makes the quickest yelp at the emptiness.

“How about this?”, you ask. Your hands softly grab at his sides, starting to manipulate his body in a way that lets him know you want him to turn around.

Steve blushes even further and starts giggling when he understands. He rolls over until his chest is to the bed.

“Just like that,” you grumble. “On your hands and knees, yeah?”

It’s a good thing that you can’t see his face, because Steve just about melts from pleasure at your words, and it embarrasses him so bad that he makes the smallest whine. He does as he’s told, though. This position leaves him feeling vulnerable and open, until you lie across his back and envelop him, making him feel safe now.

“Good boy,” comes your low mumble, and Steve’s jaw drops to let the quietest moan out.

Your right hand grabs your cock, and at the first contact of your tip against him, he clamps down once again. Steve bites his lip as he tries to relax, breathing heavily.

Slowly, you begin to breach him once more, feeling the small contractions around your cock. “Close your legs, baby.” He obeys, knees rustling the bedsheets, and suddenly you’re thrusting all the way into him again.

Steve lets out a loud moan, loud enough to be considered a shout. This position is… something else. It leaves him reeling from how much deeper it somehow feels, almost hurting from it. Most of all, Steve can feel himself surrendering to you, feeling so safe and loved.

His arms quiver, struggling to hold his weight already. At the same time that he notices this, you start pulling out only to push in with a strong thrust that makes him buckle and fall down to his elbows. Steve’s moan at this is something so erotic it has you throbbing inside him.

“Good to keep going?”, you ask him, and he nods enthusiastically from under you.

Now you resume that moderate pace you had before, only this time, somehow, it feels more intense. You hips slap against the back of his legs every time they meet, filling the room with the erotic sounds of skin against skin and his loud, airy moans. Steve can’t keep his eyes open anymore. He just yields to the intensity of your thrusts, feeling full to the brim with your big cock going in and out of him. His moans increase in volume the more you press down against him, because he understands what you’re trying to do.

Your hands rest on the high of his back, pressing down with gentleness. “Lie down.” You find just the tiniest bit of resistance, probably because Steve almost can’t stand the idea of getting even more pleasure than this. “Trust me. It’ll feel so good.”

So Steve shakily obeys. His arms go lax to his sides as he lays his chest on the mattress, his spine almost straining from the curve you’ve enforced onto him.

Your cock presses on his prostate.

Steve screams.

“Ah— Fuck!” His legs fold on themselves, and his feet kick against the bed as you continue stimulating him. “Fuck— Oh my God. Th-That’s…”

“Feels good, right?” You lay off his prostate for the moment, knowing it probably wouldn’t take much to overwhelm him if you kept on.

“Y-Yeah…” Now you can feel his quivering legs working to— to meet your thrust. “Again. Please.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your hips bear down with force on his own, and you know you’re hitting his prostate dead-on because his wails are so sudden and loud they almost scare you.

“Yes!” His jaw is left open in an endless moan, eyes clenched shut at the intensity.

The more you keep pressing down, the more you feel his body lowering, wondering why this could be, until you lean up a fraction and notice his legs sliding open on the bed. Your cock throbs at the sight. To know that he’s so turned on that he can’t keep up with you…

“Fuck— S-Sorry— Can’t h-hold myself up.” Steve confirms this same thought as he keeps moaning.

You laugh in his ear— It’s something almost mean that has Steve’s eyes wide open in a second. “Don’t worry about it,” you say as you keep thrusting, following him to the mattress.

Suddenly, your right leg is pushing his own closer to his center. Your left one does the same with the other one. As soon as you have him in the position you want, your legs press against the sides of his, holding them together tightly, not allowing him to open them to lie in a puddle on the mattress.

Steve screams at this.

“Holy— fuck!” He screams, he moans, he wails, because this specific position has your cock rubbing against his prostate on every single thrust, and it has you going deeper still, and he starts to feel himself lose it when it almost hurts when you reach the end of his walls on every thrust, feeling so small and almost bursting at the seams with it.

You know that it won’t take longer for him, so you keep bearing down on him, focusing on that bundle of nerves, feeling it increase in size the slightest bit. Your hips go faster.

Steve begins to feel the same way he did the other day. There is this very specific intense feel that comes from his prostate and has him feeling desperate, because it’s so different from anything he’s ever felt.

He knows he’s going to come just from this, and this time, though terrified, he’s ready for it.

“C-Close— Ah— I’m close.” He says this, and you kiss the back of his nape, your left hand going under his body to press against his pounding heart. Steve’s left hand presses against yours, intertwining your fingers. “J-Just from this!”

“Yeah? You want it?”

He nods so quickly it almost makes you laugh. “It’s weird. F-Feels so weird. I really— fuck!— Really feel l-like…!”

“Okay, baby. Let it happen. I’m right here. It’s alright.”

Steve nods, his face in such agonic pleasure he’s almost glad you can’t see it, because you’d probably feel concerned over him. “Okay. O-Okay—!,” he concedes, his heart beating faster at the mounting feeling.

The more you thrust against him, the more he can feel himself losing it, until the feeling turns so intense he almost can’t breathe.

“C-Coming— I’m coming! I’m coming! Oh my God!” Steve’s voice turns desperate.

And he screams.

His body seizes. A sensation he’s never felt before ravages his entire body. His eyes sting with a hint of tears at it. He feels a forceful tremble throughout his limbs, and he’s left unable to control them as he feels himself coming and coming and coming, so intensely it almost hurts, and in such a different way he’s almost ashamed, because he really thought…

But there’s no room for thoughts in his mind because he’s still coming, and he’s still moaning without noticing, shutting his eyes at the acuteness of the feeling.

“Oh, that’s it, baby. You’re squeezing me so hard— fuck!”

As Steve begins coming down from the longest and most intense orgasm of his life, he moans weakly when he feels your hips shuttering behind him, yelping at the warmth of your cum filling the condom.

After some long seconds of you groaning in his ear, which makes his hurting cock valiantly attempt to twitch, you pull out of him, softly, though it still makes him yelp, almost in a whisper, until you’re off.

Without the support of your legs against his, he drops to the bed in a helpless pile.

Steve’s chest rises and lowers quickly, still trying to draw in as much breath as possible and to calm his still-pounding heart. You lie to the side of him, your right hand caressing the expanse of his back to let him know you’re still there.

You know he’s not even processing this, too gone to even notice you’re not holding him up anymore.

But after some long minutes, Steve calms down enough and regains enough lucidity to shift on the mattress, feeling your hand on his back and sighing at the sensation.

With what you think is the biggest display of effort in history, his arms strain enough for his head to rise and turn to the side you’re on.

Steve looks at you without saying anything. You don’t know if it’s because he doesn’t know what to say, or because he can’t, so you do, first.

Sliding down the bed to be at the same height as his head, you circle your arm around his back, and say: “Hey. That was a full-body one, wasn’t it?” You kiss his left shoulder.

He still won’t answer. You start getting concerned, before he smiles, bigger and bigger, until he’s giggling against the bedsheets. He mushes his face into the mattress as he does this.

You laugh with him, still not understanding if he’s too out of it and high on endorphins.

After some seconds, Steve stills, and his concealed face turns just the slightest fraction, just enough for his eye to peek, showing you that he’s sporting the darkest blush ever.

“Um…”, he starts. “Hi?”

And that makes you laugh even harder. “Hi, baby. How are you feeling?”

Steve turns his head further towards you, biting his lip. “Good.”

“Good,” you repeat. “How did all of that feel?”

His expression is so cute to see now. It’s like he’s getting shy all over again after everything you’ve just done. His lips twitch, not knowing whether to smile or to bite his own lower lip. “Good,” he mumbles again.

You hum, almost teasingly. “Just ‘good’?”

Steve laughs, embarrassed, shoving your face with a weak hand while you laugh. “What do you think? Jesus. I can’t even move.”

You give him a wolfish smile, but contradict it when you wrap your arms around his body. Steve lets himself be surrounded by you, feeling small and safe in a way he’s never had before.

#steve harrington x male reader #bottom steve harrington #top male reader #dom male reader #stranger things x male reader #fic

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8myass · 2 months

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.. happier .. pairing. kim jungwoo x female reader genre. angst, smut pov. second person (you, yours, yourself, etc.) synopsis. you took away the only thing that made him happy, so he gave you no choice but to give all of you to him. wc. 3.6k cw. enemy/ex-friend!jungwoo, assistant manager!jungwoo, dom!jungwoo, manager!reader, sub!reader tw. mentions alcohol consumption, mentions sexual harassment, woo is very unhinged and delusional, choking, gaslighting, cursing, noncon (don’t like, don’t read), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap your meat fellas), clit play, woo’s disrespectful, hickeys, biting, dacryphilia, crying (so much crying), tit slapping, fingering, degradation, name calling (‘baby’, ‘boss’, ‘babe’), hair pulling, breeding, implied kidnapping a/n. yeah, this is late, my bad 🤭 but i did FINALLY get it posted, sorry for making y’all wait. but i didn't expect to write jungwoo like this?? yet here we all are side note: the jaehyun fic is coming, everything i’ve been writing for it is pure crap so i have to keep trashing it and starting over, but i’ll get there eventually :,)

He made one mistake – ONE – and it paved the way for you to jump right into his spot as manager of the company. He was now only the assistant manager to you. You would now boss him around. You were above him, you stole his position that he’s worked so hard to earn, you ruined his goddamn life.

Sure, his mistake was a rather big one. Showing up to the office drunk… He should’ve known he would be punished profusely for such a disturbance, but who were you to steal his place in the company when he made one mistake?? He’s the best worker that place has ever seen, how could they abandon him like that without even considering how he’d feel? And you. How could you accept that position so gratefully when you knew he was more deserving?

You’ve been trying to steal his job away from him for ages now, haven’t you?

He hated the fact that you were so happy in your new managerial role; you were way too cocky about bossing him around and telling him what to do. How could he even look at you as anything more than he previously did when he was the one who trained you when you first showed up to be working alongside him? I mean, of course, you’d be happy, it was a good job. An amazing job, really. But why didn’t you stop to consider how he felt? You didn’t even care.

“Done,” he snorted, throwing a stack of papers onto your desk with a loud thud.

You sighed deeply, gazing up into his narrowed eyes with a softness in yours, “Thank you, Woo. I really appreciate all you’ve been doing to help me around here. It’s hard work. I don’t know how you were able to do it all the time without making it seem like you were struggling; it always looked so easy when you were doing it.”

“Mhm,” he grunted, slamming the door to your office, which was once his, on his way out. It shook the picture frames hanging from the wall the door was attached to. You sighed again, closing your eyes and attempting to think about how close the two of you were in the distant past. Before you got this job offer, you were like two peas in a pod, then he came into the office one day, drunk off his ass with not a single thing keeping him from rubbing up on the girls to make them uncomfortable or cursing out the rest of his colleagues. You wanted to reject the proposal, but you felt he was in need of a punishment for that. I mean, you were even a victim of his unusually unpleasant touches. You tried to stop him from making a fool of himself, knowing how unlike him he was when he was under the influence of alcohol, but you couldn’t get him out of the office before the boss showed up and kicked him out. He was lucky he wasn’t fired and being demoted was the only thing that happened to him.

You could tell he held it against you. Just by the way he spoke to you anymore, he was clearly bitter about the turn of events. However, he needs to understand that if it weren’t you taking that role as the company manager, it would be another person that works at the office who might be far less skilled at their job than you. He couldn’t just go unpunished because you rejected the offer of a promotion. He’d be completely demoted, possibly moved out of all managerial roles if you had denied them. But he just couldn’t see that, and every time you tried to explain that to him behind closed doors in the safety of your home, he would seem to get even pissier at you, deeming every word that escaped your mouth a lie.

You gave up trying, eventually. You can easily assume he noticed because he only got worse with you. He stopped doing his job, treating you with the most disrespect you’ve ever fallen victim to in your life, forcing you to cover for him as he leaves the office to run silly errands, leaving you doing his job in more ways than one. It was all a pity party with him, really. So when it got to the point where you were going home crying every night, parking your car on the side of the road because your vision was too blurred to see the path in front of you clearly, you had no choice but to confront him about it. Of course, it wasn’t the easiest thing for you to do. I mean, you hated confrontation more than anything, but it was necessary.

You have such dread running through your tense little body as you reach your hand up toward Jungwoo’s front door, softly pounding your knuckles against the wood. You hoped, pleaded with every fiber of your being that he wouldn’t be home, that he would be out somewhere doing something and he wouldn’t be there to answer the door. But he was. He opened the door in not even a minute, staring at you with a blank expression as he snapped, “Yes? Can I help you, boss?”

You always told him not to call you that and you’d always correct him whenever he did, but today was not the day for you to be sweet to him and treat him in a friendly manner. “Can I come in? I have to talk to you and you weren’t in the office yesterday for us to talk then.”

“If I wasn’t in the office, why would you tell the head department that I was?” he chuckled, leaning down slightly so his breath was felt on your lips. Had he expected this to intimidate you? Intimidation? You figured he’d pull out some of his special games, but you wouldn’t be intimidated. He seems to forget how tough you are.

“Would you like me to correct my mistake? Because I gladly will. I simply thought you’d be able to appreciate all the work I’ve been doing on your behalf just to cover your ass while you’re out and about doing god knows what when you should be sitting at your chair in your office actually working,” you snuffed, which made him instantly retract away from you, eyes narrowing.

He sighed and stepped to the side of the walkway, motioning with his hand for you to enter. You did just that and walked through the opened door, looking around the entrance with an air of cockiness, “I feel like I’ve never been here before, you’ve really changed this place around.”

“What do you want?” he refused an answer to your comment, asking a question of his own.

“Shall we sit?” you turned to him with an innocent smile on your gorgeous face. To say Jungwoo hasn’t had quite a thing for you would’ve been the biggest lie. He previously had feelings for you, that was until you fucked him over like you had. Now, he can’t understand how he feels about you anymore. You were still so beautiful in his eyes, but cruel all the same.

He led you to a place in the living room, allowing you to sit on a couch, him next to you, leaning back against the arm of the chair so he could face you, snickering, “What’s this about? I’m kinda in the middle of something, could we hurry this along?”

“I will drag it on further if you keep getting snippy with me,” you snorted, rolling your eyes before sucking in a deep breath and continuing as soon as he sat up straight, eyes slightly widening. He’s never heard you raise your voice like he just had, even when you two were close friends. It was odd hearing the loud side of you for the first time in his life. “You need to stop leaving the office, Jungwoo. I’m not gonna keep covering for you, I just can’t anymore. If they find out I was covering for you like that, I’ll be in trouble alongside you.”

“You act as if I’d care if you get in trouble,” he scoffed, leaning toward you with a sly smirk, “I hope you get in trouble.”

“And you need to stop with the disrespect, I’m tired of leaving work crying over something you said to me. I miss you, Woo. I miss you as a friend,” you sighed deeply, inhaling the scent of the perfume that he always wore. That scent always drove you crazy.

“Then quit,” he shrugged nonchalantly as if he had no care about how hurt you were feeling right now.

“Jungwoo,” you nearly teared up at the thought of losing him forever, just because of a job that he practically gave up the moment he walked into those doors drunk. “Please, I don’t wanna lose you.”

“You already lost me, baby,” he purred, palm resting on your jaw as his thumb caressed your reddening cheek, “I hope you understand, you took my happiness away, so I’ll get it back by taking yours in turn.”

“How did I take your happiness?” you sniffled, voice shaky, “You showed up drunk and expected to come to work the next day like normal.”

“You didn’t have to take my job,” he growled, hand slipping down around your throat to gently squeeze.

You gasped, reaching up to attempt to pry his grip off of your neck, “J-Jungwoo, wh-what are you do-doing?!”

“You wanted to come here and lecture me about treating you better, but you’ve been the one who’s treating me like absolute shit? You’ve been so cocky since you were promoted, rubbing your ‘boss’ title in my face like my job wasn’t my entire fucking life. How am I supposed to treat you with respect when I don’t respect you anymore in the slightest?” he glared, upper lip twitching out of agitation, his grasp on your neck was tightening with every passing moment. You struggled to get out of his grip, but he was too strong, a lot stronger than you thought he’d be.

“Yo-you know I didn’t me-mean it t-that way,” you sobbed, tears rolling down your cheeks as fear sprung through you. Is he gonna kill me? was the only thing keeping your brain from shattering into pieces, letting yourself give into the temptation of losing every breath to his rough hold.

He finally let you go, pushing you back against the couch to collide his lips with you, his own body falling on top of yours. As you let out a large breath of unreleased air into his mouth, you realized the situation you had gotten yourself into now. His hand was still around your throat, but he wasn’t squeezing it anymore. His other hand was pinning your wrists above your head so you couldn’t fight him off, legs parting your own as his body deeply pressed against yours, that enticing scent of his was consuming you. You felt like he was eating you whole, taking everything from you with just a simple kiss. His tongue wasn’t gentle with yours, roughly exploring the entirety of your mouth as he grinded against your hips.

He soon pulled away from the kiss, squeezing your neck tightly again so any noises you made would be incomprehensible. He looked down at the way your bodies were rubbing against each other, he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, gazing into your glossy eyes, pressing a quick kiss onto your lips before whispering, “Is this disrespectful, boss?”

You nodded, but you were unable to speak, only gasping for relief at the tightness of your airway.

He laughed almost maniacally, connecting your lips before he could speak anymore, digging himself further. But as soon as his lips met yours, something new and disgusting snapped inside him. Could he really be doing this right now? This wasn’t him… but he was thinking about going farther, even without your permission to do so… He just wanted to have you, take you.

He begged his inner self to stop, his mind going blank at the thought of being inside you, so much so that it was hard for him to stop when he already had your thin leggings down by your knees, panties swiped to the side, his fingers rubbing circles around your sensitive bud, juices leaking from your clenching hole. Your nails clawed at the skin of his wrists, pleading for him to let you go. But how could he let you go when both your bodies were craving this? He could tell by how wet you seemed to be that you were loving this.

He pulled away from your swollen lips to trail kisses down your neck, humming against your skin, “Gonna make you show up to work covered in the marks of your subordinate.”

“N-no, plea-please stop it. You don’t ha-have to do th-this,” you cried, anxiety filling you at the thought of what he was planning on doing to you next. Surely the Jungwoo you’ve known for years now wouldn’t go any farther than this, right? Of course, this was horrendously disgusting and you’d make sure he would never live this down, he’d be punished accordingly for this. As much as you could, you’d make him pay for such a simple mistake, just as he had paid for his disorderly conduct in the office.

His teeth dug into your skin, lips latching around the marks inflicted on your perfect flesh to redden the skin even further. You couldn’t stop the tears from falling already, and he hadn’t even done anything to you yet.

He trailed his free hand down your body, then slipped it into his own pants to pull his hardened cock out, precum already dripping from the tip. The moment you felt him glide his dick along the walls of your dampened cunt, you started squirming around even more, fearful sounds escaping your parted lips. He chuckled against your skin, biting into the delicate flesh as hard as he could, causing a loud, pained scream to come from your adorable form, body tensing and pausing your movements to sob harder, chest heaving up and down from paranoia.

“Woo, please…” you whimpered, desperately trying to think of all the possibilities of escaping his grasp you had right now. Although, it seemed like you had none. What were you gonna do? He was way stronger than you and you had nowhere to run even if you had made it out from underneath him. This was his house, his neighborhood, his area. He knew this place like the back of his hand and you’d only ever been here once before. There was no way he wouldn’t be able to catch up to you if you took off running since you were dumb enough to order an Uber to bring you here instead of waiting until your car was out of the shop to drive yourself. “Th-this isn’t the Woo I know and… and love…”

“Love?” he repeated, looking down into your soft eyes that were swollen by how much you’ve cried for him, your lips were just as swollen and red from his excessive kissing – he would know, his were, too – the beautiful, shameful marks beginning to appear all over the canvas your neck offered him, even the tears running down your burning hot cheeks was a beauty to him. “You love me?” he couldn’t help but break out into laughter after a couple of seconds of analyzing your tiny figure under him. You were just trying to get away from him, huh? “You think I’m gonna buy that? It doesn’t seem like you love me.”

“Woo, it doesn’t have to seem like I love you, because I know I do. Please, believe me,” you whined, voice so shaky and unbearably inaudible that you could tell it wasn’t passing through his thick skull because of the situation you were in. Who could love him in a moment like this? “I… I know th-this probably isn’t the best scenario to be telling you this in, but please… just… believe me…”

He laughed again, this time it almost sounded more sinister than the last, leaning closer to your face, noses brushing together, every inhale was just a recycled breath from him, “Well, shouldn’t you love this then? It’s only rational, right? If you love someone, you should give everything to them.”

“N-no, Woo, I-I don’t be-believe in that!” you exclaimed, finally finding your voice as you saw his hands fumbling with something before feeling him tug your panties over your ass and down with your leggings. “I-I don’t want this!”

“I guess we’re not meant to be if we have different values, my love,” he shrugged, his cock pressing inside you right after his last spoken word. You squealed, head falling back as your jaw tightened, nails digging into his shoulders, back arching in an attempt to get away from the ruthless and brutal thrusting of his hips, not allowing you time to even adjust to his size before bottoming out inside you repeatedly.

“Ju-Jungwoo,” you whimpered, unintentionally feeling yourself lock your legs around his waist, mouth gaping as soft moans flew from it. You weren’t enjoying this, not a single bit. At least, that’s what you’d tell yourself, and him, if given the chance.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he smirked, gripping your hair tightly to pull your head up, eyes snapping open to meet his cocky stare, “My dick feel good in your undeserving pussy?”

“N-no,” you shook your head vigorously, trying to control your body from reacting as it was, but it was impossible to deny the fact that you were enjoying the way he felt fucking you like this when your hips were jerking upward in an attempt to activate more friction between your bodies.

He was savoring every moment of this. Seeing your pretty face wince every time he fucked you a little too deep, watching your body unintentionally convulse each time he pushed inside you as your orgasm neared, shaking your head whenever a moan slipped out of your tightly pursed lips because you always liked being stubborn and continued to deny the pleasure you were feeling.

“You’re sick,” you scoffed, eyes rolling back as he moved his lips to your neck, leaving more and more marks along the skin, covering your entire neck in purple and red. “You’re so fucking sick, Jungwoo.”

“Call me boss,” he growled into your ear, biting at your earlobe.

“Bu-but-” you didn’t get a chance to finish speaking before he smacked your boob roughly, a weak whimper coming from you.

“I will always be the fucking boss of you, no matter what your title says. Do you understand? Now, call me boss.”

“I-I understand, b-boss,” you cried, hands pushing against his chest as his hips seemed to speed up at your words. He grunted lowly against the skin behind your ear, feeling his cock twitching inside of you as that knot in the pit of your own stomach began to grow more and more with every inch he stuffed inside of you repeatedly.

“God, gonna cum. Gonna fill you up so good, babe,” he groaned, grip in your hair pulling your head back so he could bite along your collarbone, and slowly made his way to your jawline, more moans and groans falling from his lips against your skin.

You wanted to tell him to pull out, not to cum inside you, but you couldn’t manage out anything you were proud of, so you stayed wordless, cries and whimpers filling the air of the room as your legs shook around him. His thrusts got sloppy and his bites became more empathetic, hips stilling as hot strands of creamy liquid shot out inside you, leaking out around his cock and dripping down onto the couch underneath you. You felt your own cum leak out after his, mind going blank as you practically screamed his name, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers running through his hair to keep him close to you, shaking violently under him. It took a good while for your orgasm to pass, and by the time it had, Jungwoo was pulling out of you, getting himself cleaned up before worrying about your dripping cunt.

He chuckled, leaning down to rub his fingers along the cum seeping from your gaping hole, causing sensitive noises to slip from you, legs twitching involuntarily, “Such a pretty concoction we’ve created. You look good filled with my cum, don’t you think?”

You didn’t say anything, wordlessly nodding, too afraid of what he’d do if you failed to comply with his every need.

“I think I’ll keep you here from now on, how does that sound?” he hummed, finger slipping into your messy pussy. You gasped, clinging onto his sweat-coated shirt as you let out a string of whimpers. “I’ll keep you here, locked in my house to fulfill my every desire. I’ll use you however I deem fit, doesn’t that sound incredible?”

“N-no, ple-please,” you begged, even though you knew you had no say in the matter. You were puddy in his greedy, narcissistic hands. You had nowhere to go, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. He was sick, twisted. He would get what he wanted from you either way, no matter what you would say or do, he’d always get his way.

“You know you’d love it, having my cock buried inside your pathetic, stretched-out cunt every day from dawn to dusk,” he hummed, bringing his lips back onto yours before you could reply, knowing what your answer would be anyway. You were too stubborn to admit you’d love that, he knows you would love everything he’d do to you. And if you don’t, oh well, he’ll make sure you wind up loving it in the end.

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izvmimi · 1 year

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cw: izuku ponders the next step in your relationship with bakugou’s help.

a/n: reposted cuz i started thinking about it again.

“Spill.”

Bakugou’s words cut particularly sharply through the weary silence of a late night of work. Izuku is taken aback by the sudden speech, looking towards him with surprise, his arms still halfway through the change of a shirt.

He and Bakugou are both closing up the agency for once, and it’s about the time of the night where his friend is in a rush to shed the role of Dynamight and get home quickly to his partner, and Izuku, understanding this, typically keeps his mouth shut as a form of respect. But tonight, despite the fact that Bakugou is fully changed and could disappear quickly into the night, he stands a short distance away from the door of the men’s locker room, arms crossed, waiting for Izuku to talk.

“W-what do you mean?” Izuku replies.

Bakugou grits his teeth in annoyance.

“You’ve been sighing forlornly for the last three minutes, don’t pretend you didn’t want me to ask.”

Izuku grimaces, then laughs to dispel the tension slipping in his shoulders. He slips on his hoodie, then his gym bag over his shoulder and follows Bakugou out of the locker room.

The two walk out of the building in quiet stride as Izuku formulates the words to express how he’s feeling. Bakugou says nothing and waits patiently, sending a quick text message on his phone. Normally the hemming and hawing would get on his nerves, but from what he can tell, it has to be something related to you, because you are the only thing in the young hero’s life that brings back the over-contemplative nature of his childhood.

Izuku stops his stride suddenly then turns to face him.

“How did you know when it was time?”

Bakugou cocks his head to the side.

“Time for...?”

Izuku swallows hard once. “To propose.”

Bakugou raises his eyebrows for a moment at this information, then snorts. It’s an easy question and a hard question, both to answer and to ask.

“When I knew she’d say yes, dumbass,” he quips.

With that, he continues to walk, but Izuku is clearly unsatisfied with his answer, not moving from his spot on the sidewalk. Is it because he’s called Bakugou’s bluff so clearly? Even if Bakugou knew it was a no-brainer, he’d also been in this position. Wondering. Worrying. Considering what the right move was, and what he would have to do in the case of a cruel “no.”

“Kacchan, I... I don’t know why I’m so afraid.”

By now, his hands are balled up into fists, and for a moment, Katsuki does actually regret his flippant attitude. He can practically feel the waves of uncertainty emanating from Izuku and washing over him. Stress. He knows it well.

Bakugou sighs.

“It’s because you love her.”

Izuku’s eyes shine for a moment and he blinks, and it’s gone. He does love you. Overwhelmingly so.

He can’t really, truly imagine a world in which you’d say no, but the gravity of what it means for you to say ‘yes’ to being his spouse terrifies him. Would you be able to promise him forever? Will you stay by his side, no matter what stupid or risky decisions he makes? What if you’re lonely? What if he makes you a widow?

There are so many ‘what ifs’.

“She loves you too,” Bakugou reminds him. “It’s all over her face.”

It’s true. You have said it to him over and over again, and you show it to him every day. He doesn’t know how you can manage tolerating him - the early mornings, the late nights, his struggle to communicate with you as he climbs his way to the top.

And yet you do, always catching him when he’s teetering off the edge. Your love is steadfast, more sure than he ever is.

You will say yes.

And he will be good to you.

Izuku lets out a breath he doesn’t know he’s been holding. He meets back up with Bakugou, who gives him a quick once over and they continue walking.

“Thank you,” Izuku replies in a small voice. There’s a renewed hope in the timbre of his voice and in the squaring of his shoulders. He’ll face you, proudly, confidently.

You love him and he loves you.

“... Don’t mention it.”

The two men are pensive, but in different ways - Bakugou wonders what food he should bring home for his partner and Izuku wonders how he’ll pop the question. The steady sounds of city life comprise the background noise between them. There’s a lot to say, as there usually is between them, and nothing to say at all.

“Kacchan?”

“Huh?”

“What do you know about rings?”

“Google it, nerd.”

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #bnha imagine #thoughts: izuku #daydreams: bnha #mimi's notes

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amailboxlemur · 2 months

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Simon thoughts for season 3

My poor poor baby 💔💔💔💔

I love Simon. So much. And this season… he’s really going through it. Like the Erik bombshell really took over in episode 5 but up until then I genuinely think Simon was even more of a main character than Wille. I’m so glad they brought him back to the forefront this season.

Right off the bat, Simon is uncomfortable this season. He wants the trial? Settlement? Legal process? To just be over with. He hates that his classmates are staring at him. He wishes Wille gave him a heads up before the speech so he could have prepared himself.

His family life is a mess. Linda has finally clocked what’s going on and doesn’t trust him. Like I get it, he did steal and sell drugs. But also, he’s not using and more than anything he just got himself into a messed up situation. And it feels unfair that she missed what was going on for so long but now that she knows she’s acting like Simon is CURRENTLY drug dealing. Seeing him breakdown to Linda was absolutely heart wrenching, I’ve been waiting for the Simon breakdown and Omar did not disappoint.

And he’s not speaking to Sara. After doing everything to protect her for years she’s betrayed him in the worst way. I also think it’s interesting that they really leaned into SARA hating Micke and Simon only cut him off for her sake. After she comes home crying when Micke disappoints yet again it seems they’re on the path to mending their relationship but we’re not there yet.

Then there’s the online hate. It’s so easy to fall prey to the endless stream of negativity. Wille doesn’t understand, it’s always been his life and he’s probably at least somewhat accustomed to tuning it out. So Simon feels so alone in this. I also think the “the ones that like me only like me because I’m with wille” comment is very telling. It probably feels so fake and shallow to him. There’s also the “typical Latino” comment which… ick. I can’t imagine that’s the only comment of the sort out there.

So what does Simon do? He tries to carve out some positivity. He posts his song and receives some good comments immediately. He meets a young child who looks up to him. And gets a call right away from Wille that kind of… deflates his good mood. Why is Wille being left to “handle” Simon. And I can understand Wille trying to be gentle about it, but Simon just doesn’t understand the “rules” of the Royal court. It’s just an all around mess.

And then it gets worse. He starts getting hate comments even on his song. The kids at school are making fun of him. He even says he doesn’t love singing anymore which breaks my heart because music has always defined Simon. He gets a rock thrown through his window!! And the police are saying “ah yes, probably just a prank”.

No wonder he deletes his social media, no wonder he’s deleting himself. Nothing he does is right. The moment he gives in and joins the hillerska protest is so heartbreaking. From now on, these are the only ideals he gets to stand up for.

But he’s still insecure about his place with Wille. When Wille is distant after finding out about Erik, Simon immediately thinks he’s the problem, that he’s asking too many questions about what to wear to Wille’s birthday.

I want wilmon endgame. I believe in wilmon endgame. But Simon absolutely needed to take that pause at the end of episode 5. I hope they can save what they have without breaking up first. I hope they can have a genuinely honest all cards on the table conversation. I hope Simon can really let himself be fully vulnerable. And I hope to god wille listens, hears him and moves heaven and earth to make the situation better for Simon. Because the way it’s been going isn’t working.

I also can’t post this without a massive WOW to Omar’s acting this season. The role of Simon has always been complex but subtle. This season he really brings it with the big emotions.

#young royals #yr s3 spoilers #simon eriksson #omar rudberg

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toournextadventure · 1 year

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Hi, don't know if you're still accepting requests. But if you are I have a really long one.

I was thinking about a Wednesday Addams x fem psychic reader (possibly masc), where the reader is like an investigation partner for Wednesday. (I don't know if you want to give some more backstory)

The reader is obviously crushing hard on Wednesday and compliments her, in very Addams way, every chance she gets. And when it's time for Rave'n, the reader just says fuck it and asks Wednesday. And they're matching (all black obviously).

So when it starts raining blood and everyone starts screaming, the reader puts on a waltzer (midnight waltz, Adam Hurst) and asks Wednesday to dance like:

"May I have this dance, cara mia?"

And they just waltz in the bloody ballroom.

It would really make my gay heart happy, thank you in advance.

I gotchu bestie, don't even worry about it 😎

the show must go on

“You look preposterously gloomy,” you said when Wednesday finally stopped looking for more clues about the Hyde. “It suits you.”

This whole Hyde thing was really starting to wear Wednesday down, you could tell. Weeks and weeks of trying to figure out the mystery and she still wasn’t much closer to figuring it out. You had offered your assistance instantly, of course, but two minds most certainly were not better than one.

At least it gave you an excuse to flirt. Which you may have learned from her father on Parents’ Weekend. After he had gotten out of jail. Maybe you needed a better role model.

“We can keep an eye on the cave tomorrow night,” Wednesday said with a huff. You knew she didn’t take defeat well, but this was starting to get downright comical.

“Tomorrow night is the Rave’N,” you pointed out when you followed behind her on your way out of the woods.

She didn’t answer, leading you to let out your own huff. You had wanted to do this with some sort of dignity, but it appeared she wasn’t going to let you. Why would she, you thought with a roll of your eyes. She wouldn’t be Wednesday Addams if she gave you an easy time.

“The Hyde has to appear at some point,” Wednesday finally said as you neared campus. “And I plan on being there when it does.”

“I doubt it would show during the Rave’N,” you mumbled. Wednesday either didn’t hear you, or didn’t care. “We might as well do something that would make us miserable.”

Now that made the young Addams pull up short. With minimal effort at best, you suppressed a smile when she turned to look at you. It was one that you received far too often, one that dared you to continue and see what would happen. A beautiful look, it was; you would do anything to see it more often.

“What would that be?” Anyone else would have missed the hint of a smile on her lips. But not you. No, not you.

“You might as well accompany me to the Rave’N,” you answered. “I guarantee it’ll be positively frightful.”

She didn’t give you a response of any kind before continuing her walk back to her dorm. Oh what a wonderful thing to be around an Addams. It was never boring.

As predicted, Wednesday's silence on the matter had been a resounding yes. She was already looking stunning in her black vintage dress when you stopped by her dorm to pick her up. No smile, no words, just the silent understanding that she wasn't excited, but that's what was going to make it so much fun.

"You look ghastly," you said with a smile as you slipped the corsage over Wednesday’s wrist.

“You match!” Enid practically shouted when she saw you at the door. “Have you always had that suit?”

“It was my father’s,” you said with a smile. “Fits like a glove, wouldn’t you say?”

“Do a spin for me,” Enid said, and you were more than happy to oblige.

You could feel Wednesday glaring into your very soul as you spun slowly, your arms outstretched so Enid could ooh and ah as much as she wanted. There was one point where Enid even came up and started adjusting your tie - horribly, you thought with a contained giggle - and you thought Wednesday was going to murder her. To you, it just made her all the more beautiful; nothing was more beautiful than a woman scorned.

“We should get going,” you said once you had finished enjoying Wednesday’s silent rage. “We’ll see you down there, Enid.”

With outstretched arm, Wednesday took it and let you walk her down to the dance. She still had yet to say anything for that night, but you didn’t mind. Her father had told you time and time again how she was a woman of few words, and that was okay. It was very Wednesday of her, especially given the fact you knew she wasn’t exactly stoked to be going.

The dance was already in full swing by the time you both appeared; nothing was better than being fashionably late. You shared a single look with Wednesday - who looked like she would rather die than be there - before dragging her to the dancefloor. She was going to enjoy the night even if it killed her.

If she was lucky, it would.

“Your dancing is mesmerising,” you told her once she stepped back in front of you. Still no smile, but there was a twinkle in her eye that betrayed her outward unhappiness.

You opened your mouth to make another comment when you felt something drip onto your shoulder. Wednesday’s eyes darted to your shoulder before she furrowed her brows. Another drop, this time on Wednesday’s cheek. Red?

Before you knew it, the sprinklers went off and something with the appearance and consistency of blood was falling from the ceiling. For the first time that night, Wednesday smiled, a beautifully bloody grin. Whether it was from the blood rain, the screams of everyone around you, or the general chaos, you didn’t care. She looked stunning.

“One moment,” you told her as you got an idea.

You nearly slipped a few times on your way to the DJ table, but thankfully Wednesday was too distracted by the chaos to notice. The DJ himself was nowhere to be found, but that was alright; you knew how to hook your phone up to the speakers. It took only a moment to connect and another moment to put the song on before you could slide your way back over to where Wednesday was standing.

As soon as the waltz came on, her head turned to you, her smile now gone and replaced with a look of curiosity. None of that animosity she had shown earlier in the night. No, this was a genuine look from her, her emotions unmasked for the first time since you had known her.

“May I have this dance, cara mia?” You asked as you held your hand out for her to take.

Just like that, realisation dawned in her eyes as her smile came back. She took your hand and let you pull her into the waltz, the blood making your movements a little smoother. If you both slipped once or twice you didn’t call attention to it; it didn’t matter.

In the chaos, you found the beauty in being with an Addams. It was horrifying, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#requests #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine

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runthepockets · 6 days

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I used to hang in these feminist spaces where they would (understandably) put a lot of emphasis on the wrongdoing men would do to women, the wrongdoing men would do to other men, and occassionally, the wrongdoing women would do to other women, but never the wrongdoing women would do to men. Even now I run into this a lot.

I would tell these people about all the awful stuff my mom would do to me, how shitty my ex girlfriends were, all the female bullies I had, and people just stare blankly at me and get all "well, you're a unique case" or something. Like, look, I'm no "institutional misandry is real" kinda guy, but it still stands that it's just as easy for women to look at vulnerable guys like me and take advantage of me as it is for me to take advantage of vulnerable women, even if the privilege margins aren't that wide. Women are entirely capable of twisting patriarchy to their use against dudes that they know can't fight back (think of all the male victims of sexual assault by a women who weren't taken seriously because "men always want it". In the case of me and my mom we had the whole "mini husband" thing, in the case of a lot of my ex girlfriends it was very much a classic case of emotional abuse and manipulation and in some cases false rape allegations, and if I tried to combat any of this stuff it was "he's being a misogynist" "he's slut shaming" "he's not all men'ing and speaking over women".) I mean the whole thing with a lot of radfems is that they claim to be punching up but all they really do is further dehumanize men who are at the lowest rungs of society, guys who can't fight back.

I think this stuff is worth talking about. I mean, if we're serious about putting the work in of seeing women and men as equals, that means facing the reality that there are ways in which women can manipulate patriarchal gender norms and roles for their benefit and there are ways in which men are harmed by it. Again, I think a lot of people hear this stuff (especially from a guy) and they immediately assume misogyny or bad faith readings of femininity as a whole because the well has been so poisoned now that any criticism of women by a man = female failure, but that's not true at all. The reality is I'm a straight guy who likes women and wants to get along with them and vice versa, but we can't really do that if only one of us is ever allowed to have the monopoly on talking about harmful experiences with patriarchy and gender roles and domestic violence and the harm the role of the family has on your gender. It's a two way street, feminism and masculism have to co-exist or else we're just talking in circles and blaming each other for our problems again rather than combatting the institutions that put us in these positions in the first place.

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skania · 6 months

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Some OnK Chapter 131 Thoughts

And by "OnK" thoughts, I predictably mean "Akane and AquaKane" thoughts lol

Once again, Akane is the one correcting surface-level statements and showing insight into Aqua (and even Ruby!).

I've been wondering how Aka would have Akane and Aqua interact after Chapter 116. I'm actually surprised that they were so at ease with each other during this chapter, it's like they overcame a hurdle in Chapter 116.

Akane knows where Aqua stands, just like Aqua knows where she stands. For Akane in particular, deciding to stop Aqua's plan likely gave her something tangible to hold onto; something practical that she can focus on, a way in which she can make an actual difference. For Aqua, knowing that Akane is planning to stop him told him that she will keep getting involved with him whether he likes it or not.

Of course, since Aqua is always fighting his own nature, he probably likes it in the same measure in which he hates it. Akane burning the bridge with him would be for Akane's own good, and thus what Aqua wants - but there's likely a part of him that is relieved to know that she is still there.

He may not be able to rely on her, but the person who saved him little by little simply by acknowledging him, understanding him and choosing him is still there. She hasn't given up on him.

And it just so happens that Akane is not willing to let Aqua forget that.

I think Akane may have gone there for two reasons. On one hand, she is probably keeping an eye on his every move; she needs to, if she doesn't want to let Aqua catch her by surprise.

On the other hand, Akane likely knew that Aqua would have mixed feelings after meeting Ai's mother.

So I think that by going there, Akane was also hoping to emotionally support Aqua. Just like she promised she would back in Chapter 51.

After all, if Akane wanted to simply watch Aqua, she could've done so without revealing her presence; the same way she managed to follow him all the way there.

But just like Aqua wanted Akane to see him back in Chapter 116, Akane wanted Aqua to know she was there.

The way she throws his stalker tendencies in his face is so funny! Despite the gloomy atmosphere, the two of them instantly fall into a very easy-going back-and-forth and I love that. It's not what I was expecting at all (I love tension), but I'll take it because it's positive that they can joke around about personal traits that anyone else would see as flaws lmao

Plus, good on her for serving Aqua some of his own medicine!

I already mentioned this, but this exchange right here immediately made me think of Chapter 52.

Funnily enough, that Chapter was titled "Boyfriend x Girlfriend" and featured the moment Aqua and Akane truly started playing their parts. And in this chapter, we have Memcho describing Akane's current role in Aqua's life: His ex-girlfriend.

Aqua and Akane have gone through so many stages in the manga, I can hardly keep count. Right now they're in their "Exes" era, yet they're still as entwined as ever lol

And now we get to the part that truly caught my eye. I feel like this interaction can be read in different ways:

There's more to Ayumi Hoshino that meets the eye. Akane knows this but doesn't want Aqua to know, and he can tell but decides to play along.

Akane understands how frustrating it must be to find out that the tragedy that was Ai Hoshino began due to something like this. What's more, she understands how Aqua must feel seeing Ai's mother and knowing that... there's no point in him hating her, because she already hates herself enough for both of them.

The first would fit the Masterminds™ game that these two are supposed to be playing, and as such it would be pretty fun. But we have seen Akane lie to Aqua in the past and she is... kind of very bad at it lol

Maybe she's bringing her S Acting Skill Level to the game this time, and I'd applaud her for doing so if she is. But for the time being, I'm leaning towards the second option:

Akane knew that knowing Ayumi's truth would give Aqua mixed feelings and that he may stay stuck on that, and so she came to help take that burden off his shoulders.

And good thing she did, because as Ichigo put it: Aqua is breaking.

That said, there's something kind of ominous about the way we're shown Ai's mom looking at them in the last panel. I can't decide whether it symbolizes Ai's mom seeing her grandson (the one she thought she had no right to meet) leaving her and her pain behind, accompanied by someone who is obviously a part of his life - as well as Aqua deciding that indeed, Akane is right: there's no point in hating Ai's mom anymore, because she is already living in a hell of her own making.

Or if maybe Ai's mom is hiding something. I seem to remember one of the sidestories mentioning that she even put glass shards in Ai's food once, which kind of sent a very different image of her compared to the regretful woman we saw this chapter lol

Alas, for now I'm going with Option 1 though, because I think there's something really beautiful in the symbolism of Akane coming to pick Aqua up, and the two walking away from that painful memory together so that Aqua doesn't have to wallow in it alone.

Ruby was hoping that Aqua would start to lean on people soon. As it is, he can't lean on anyone - but Akane is still there to guide him home either way, and luckily Aqua let himself accept that much.

#aquakane #my aquakane meta #akane kurokawa #fandom: onk #me: onk #the panels about akane talking about her and ai not being normal but wishing they were kind of deserve their own post #but I'm not in the state of mind for that right now so I'm just going to push my shipping agenda lmao #aaaaaaand now I'm back to zzzzzz about onk #shame there's a break though or I'd have looked forward to next chapter #I wonder if this means we'll now be able to see aquakane interact more often #or if aka will just save their interactions for moments like these lol

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damnknoxandothernonsense · 1 year

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knox’s teacher AU

David is a principal.

He scares all of the students because of his scheer size and general scariness of him. However, the moment a student comes up to him with an issue, he is doing everything in his power to help them. He is secretly a softy. His office is actually quite comforting.

additionally, Angel is the secretary that everyone likes, they have candy in a bowl for anyone that comes in. David acts like he is irritated with them, but they are secretly engaged (they wear the ring on a necklace). The students keep trying to set them up.

Asher is the Physical Education teacher.

He is specifically the one that everyone likes. Class with him isn’t a competition. It is a matter of not sitting on the sidelines. He makes it a safe space for all people of all types. Asher goes and argues the fact that “benchmark testing” in gym is beyond idiotic and has no measurement on how much a kid improves. He refuses to do any tests related to that. preac

Milo is the tech ed teacher.

He without a doubt refuses to go by “Mr. Greer”. He specifically tells the kids to call him Milo. David isn’t pleased with that, but when Milo says that “Mr. Greer” sounds like his dad. David doesn’t argue after that point. He lets the kids have creative liberty over their projects when they get to a certain point in their skills.

Lasko is an English teacher.

Lasko teaches specifically creative writing. He has lamps all over his room because he understands that LED lights trigger headaches. He has one of the aesthetic, cozy rooms. He constantly has kids in there hanging out and making themselves at home. He has a drawer full of a variety of drinks and snacks for his kids. He wants them all to be aware that he is a safe space.

Huxley is an Environmental/Biology teacher.

Hux is the kind of science teacher that is able to explain the different concepts in understandable ways. Rather than explaining it in the long winded terminology, he does projects and experiments to better cement his lessons in the classroom. He isn’t judgemental and has the most easy going personality. Every school in the area has tried to get him to transfer at some point. Not a single one has been successful.

Gavin is the health/anatomy teacher.

Okay, everyone knew that this was happening. However, he is honestly the best to fulfill this role. He would be able to handle it without making it uncomfortable. Gavin goes over consent, in fact it is the first topic discussed within his class. He teaches inclusive sex ed courses, as well as actual sex ed and offers ways to be safe. He is blunt about it, but he still makes jokes about things to lighten the mood. I wish I had him for sex ed instead

Damien is a math teacher

He likes definite answers. He likes certainty that comes along with math. There is rarely more than one right answer while everyone is scared of him at first, they realize that he is a lot like David. They seem so harsh at first and rough, but once they open up they are just big softies. He focuses more on the impact he has on his students and providing a positive role model rather than following the curriculum. Makes deals with his students for movie days for good grades on exams.

Guy is a theater teacher.

Tell me where i am wrong with this? I dare you to tell me I am wrong. He is the most qualified to be licensed drama queen and teach his students how to do it. He is not a theater kid, he is a kid in theater. There is a difference. He also plays the most fun acting games, not the uncomfortable cringy games that makes everyone hate acting classes. I would love him. He would have fun projects too, he would make options because not everyone wants to be in theater. He would also be super open and just tell his class every little detail. He would always have a coffee too.

Geordi is the on-campus therapist.

Offers so many actually helpful things not just “have you tried drinking water?”. Offers a safe space for students, allowing them to speak out without any sort of judgment. Would offer hugs if the kid is okay with it, because you can’t tell me that he wouldn’t be so comforting. He is close to the students’ age and is able to relate to them all with some of the experiences and actually gives good advice, is willing to sit down with parents/teachers to sort issues out. Checks in on students, plans fun events.

Elliot is an art teacher.

He loves clay and making non traditional things. He teaches the basics, but then he loves to see what the kids create. He does not grade based off of skill, but instead on how much effort they put into their projects. He also loves a good laugh with projects, and has students pick the music. At the end of the year, he presents the spotify wrapped so they are aware of the really interesting music taste that they all have. He is like a big brother to most of the kids.

Sam is the school nurse.

First of all, he has a room dedicated to those students that are sleep deprived. Would take so many classes to make sure he is up to date on different medical information as well as different signs for bad situations. Has protection in his office to give out in order to prevent teenage pregnancy. Has so many things for periods too because he understands how much those things are and he knows that not everyone comes prepared. He always looks so cozy. No judgment passed.

Vincent is history teacher.

He makes it interesting, like he sticks to the curriculum, going over the basics and vital information because he has to. However, he also has “Weird History Wednesdays” where he teaches events in history that are really weird. Makes it into a game, where he groups up the students and they have to guess what happens next. The prize is opting out of an homework assignment. He spends hours setting up teams. Has an organized spreadsheet. Yes this is based off of Puppet History. Don’t judge me.

Avior is the physics and astrology teacher:

He loves space, would take field trips to the nearby observatory. He would be the teacher that even the “outcasts” because he is able to make it such a fun environment. Refuses to give individual tests, instead gives group projects and group tests. He makes sure that everyone participates and ensures that it is a safespace. He teaches classes on the stories on the different constellations as well to break it up from the more serious class work.

if you want to read more of what I’ve written, you can find my masterlist here!

if you want to ask for something to be written, you can find my guidelines here!

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dapg-otmebytheballs · 6 months

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SAY THE PARASOCIAL THING SAY IT

Aksjfhk okay

This got super long but basically I was thinking about that post about Phil being more open in his boundaries and I think he actually always has been! More under the cut

I think Phil has actually always been more self-assured in his interactions with the audience and I have some idea(?) of why that is. Phil has been around forever on YouTube, he is kind of a performer in a very classical way. You can see this in like how he carries himself in his liveshows, using very basic tenets of performance that we're taught like face the audience always and fill up any lulls in the conversation. There is always a screen between the creator and the audience, of course there is. But the culture we see now of internet celebrities and their audiences having very little boundaries because of how accessible creators have become to audiences wasn't as prominent back then. You understood as a creator that your audience will make whatever they want of what you're saying and you can't account for any bad faith readers. Phil always came across to me as someone who knew how much he wanted to put out there and was self assured in it. He doesn't feel the need to clarify stuff, and likewise engages with fandom in a similar good faith. What goes on in his life and what informs his thoughts, beyond what he shares, is none of our business, that was an understood thing and he's left it at that. And what fandom talks about, how we interpret stuff, how we do our parasocial shit is also not meant to be more than a performance, it isn't supposed to Say Something Serious about the creators, which is also understood. And though of course audience interactions started getting wildly out of hand some years after Phil started posting, he still is a product of a time where that wasn't how things are meant to be and he maintains that distance with ease. Thinking about stuff like draw Phil naked where he engaged with it in good humour, or how he didn't mind having sponsorships and clickbait titles because there's an implicit understanding that this is All A Performance so he doesn't have to try and "act authentic". There's a confidence he has in his role as an entertainer, and that informs how he interacts with us. (also I had expressed this all much better earlier but Tumblr ate it up so now I have to type it again sorry if this reads weird ;-;)

On the other hand, Dan seems to worry about all that stuff a Lot More. (And I was apprehensive about saying this so I thank anon here for allowing me to say my parasocial shit XD) And the thing is, the reason I notice that is Because I am literally like Dan about that stuff when interacting with an audience (I did some videos as well yeah, but also when I've organised events that I had to host, or presented poetry somewhere, etc etc) where I constantly feel the need to qualify everything I say and do very worried I'll come off as being maliciously bad, or even perceived as being a certain way or having a certain tone when I don't. I find it in rather positive ways with Dan too (like correcting language in old videos or pulling them off when there's something in there that aged badly or could be seen in bad taste). But other times I see reflected in him my own tendency to overcompensate (self referencing how he is making Easy-Content a la 'some shit a youtuber would do', making sure he doesn't come across as having the wrong political opinions by stressing on his principles when something like that comes up 'don't settle for neoliberalism' ((also he is totally correct and I actually do love those clarifications just fyi)) )

You can see this play out so well that time when Phil accidentally says 'cockies' instead of 'cookies' and Dan makes a 'cut that out' motion and Phil just laughs about it and corrects himself and Dan goes "Are you keeping that in??"

There's probably a lot of factors to why they have those particular styles of interacting, and really there's merit to both. Phil knows where the boundaries are and ever since him just speaking random shit hasn't had the extra issue of possibly outing Dan before he's ready, Phil has just gotten even more open with how he speaks, but I truly think he doesn't care as much what we think about him. It's like, what's going on in his life is none of our business and what we're making out of our parasocial relationship with him is none of his business, which is a great way of approaching being a creator and unfortunately something that is becoming less and less of an option as the culture shifts completely with generations that have been within this internet creator culture since they were born.

Dan having entered the scene later on when this kind of culture had started (plus of course his own issues that did Not help the situation) means that it made sense for him to approach us with that bit of hesitancy and that he continues to do so. I know I have that hesitancy about how I word things because I've also seen people be taken out of context and treated in really bad faith and that is a completely understandable thing to take into consideration.

But yeah Phil being the "quiet one" has never really meant that he is less certain/more shy to me, personally, I think he is an incredibly professional entertainer is the thing and I love love love that about him because he's of a dying species in the current climate.

#asks #parasocial time #dnp #dan and phil

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robininthelabyrinth · 8 months

Text

The Other Mountain - ao3 - Chapter 19

Pairing: Lan Qiren/Wen Ruohan

Warning Tags on Ao3

———————————————————————-

Maintain your own discipline.

Be hard on yourself, be easy on others.

Lan Qiren’s foundation had always been his sect rules. They had been his refuge as a child, when he had had such difficulty in connecting with or even understanding his peers or his seniors, and they remained his reliance as an adult, particularly in times of stress. In every step he had taken in his life, the rules had been with him, providing guidance and support – a source of strength, a source of serenity, a source of unshakable stability.

He was not going to let anything, or anyone, take that away from him.

“Xichen, Wangji,” he said once his nephews were both on the ground, keeping his tone as even as possible. Have affection and gratitude. “It is good to see you.”

“They’re safe and wholly intact,” Cangse Sanren said proudly. She’d arrived not long after Wen Ruohan, hopping off her own sword with a brief stutter in her legs that suggested she had been going a little faster than she was entirely comfortable with. “Just as promised. We even got them out of an active war zone! Uh, not that we knew it was going to be a war zone when we were heading there, in my defense. Actually, we were just doing a spot of night-hunting with them – I mean, nothing serious, just a few jiangshi, a couple of small ghosts…”

She looked hopefully at him.

“Thank you for bringing them back to me,” Lan Qiren said politely. Have courtesy and integrity. Be grateful. No improper behavior. “I appreciate your efforts and your care.”

For some reason, Cangse Sanren’s face fell.

“Oh, he is so mad,” she muttered to Wen Ruohan, who had been completely silent since landing, which was unusual for him. He also hadn’t taken his eyes off of Lan Qiren, which…probably meant something? Hopefully not that he was angry that Lan Qiren had demanded that He Zhong help get him released from the cells of the Fire Palace to await his return. “He’s really mad. You didn’t say he was this mad.”

The rules said Do not succumb to rage.

On the other hand, they also said Be genuine and unedited.

“Shufu isn’t mad,” Lan Xichen piped up before Lan Qiren could say anything. “He’s disappointed.”

Lan Qiren shook his head. Do not tell lies.

“No, Xichen,” he said, voice still completely even. Calm. Factual. “This time, I am mad.”

“…oh.”

“Not at you, nor at Wangji,” he clarified. “I am very pleased to see that you are both well, and that you have made it here without coming to harm. I am equally pleased that you have made friends. I regret that I do not have time to properly meet them now. Rooms will be prepared for all the children so that you can go to rest – ”

He paused briefly to allow for interruption, but when Wen Ruohan said nothing, decided to continue. He was being a little presumptuous, both in cutting the introduction so short and in taking on the role of host, which rightfully belonged to Wen Ruohan as the master of the Nightless City. Technically, it belonged to him as well, as Wen Ruohan’s husband, but they hadn’t had to deal with any guests of consequence during the past few months and the subject of hosting duties had never come up.

No matter.

“When you are recovered, I believe there was a suggestion that you would be introduced to Wen Chao, Wen-er-gongzi. Please make every effort to get along with him.”

“Because he is our shumu’s son?” Lan Wangji asked.

Lan Qiren blinked, having for whatever reason not expected his nephews to use such an intimate term of address for Wen Ruohan. It caused the smallest hairline fracture in his composure – no.

Maintain your own discipline. Maintain. Maintain.

If Lan Qiren relaxed his vigilance long enough to have emotions of any sort, positive or negative, he was going to shatter. He was barely holding it together as it was. If he shattered now, he would immediately have a meltdown, and afterwards he would be useless for some time. If that happened, he would not be able to convey the vital information he had obtained, and he had to convey it. Everyone and everything was depending on him.

His nephews, his sect, even his beloved – he was not about to let them down. He wasn’t.

Lan Qiren had already had one fit shortly after learning what he had, and it had greatly impeded his efforts to get out of the Fire Palace and to a place where he could be of actual use. He Zhong had needed to be convinced that giving Lan Qiren time to rest and recover was not the right approach – calling a doctor was out of the question, of course, since providing medical care to someone officially imprisoned in the Fire Palace without first obtaining permission was a surefire way to get in trouble, no matter their rank. Under the circumstances, despite everyone’s general agreement that Wen Ruohan would regret his actions eventually, no one wanted to risk violating protocol in the event of him still being angry when he returned.

Lan Qiren understood, he supposed, but he also found it to be unbelievably inconvenient.

In the end, it had taken him an unconscionably long time to convince He Zhong that enforced rest would be counterproductive, and that he should instead simply provide him with enough cold water to rinse himself properly, a change of clothing from his quarters, and something he could use to brace his ankle, as well as some freedom of movement. It had then taken even longer for He Zhong to actually accomplish those tasks, since a mere guard from the Fire Palace, particularly one who did not have the Wen surname, was not considered especially high ranking.

In the end, He Zhong had only succeeded because he’d happened to think of approaching Shen Mingbi to petition for her assistance, presumably based on her somewhat more cooperative behavior during the wives’ visit to the Fire Palace. Lan Qiren would not have thought that an effective stratagem, given Shen Mingbi’s general antipathy towards him, but it had worked, and according to He Zhong the only price she had set on her assistance was his promise to join her for dinner – which was where he was right now, in fact.

(The whole thing was utterly inexplicable to Lan Qiren. Perhaps she lacked friends?)

The whole thing had taken far too long. The delay had led Lan Qiren into another fit, this time one of panic, generated by all the ghastly things he could imagine were happening in the outside world to everyone he loved at that very moment, but of course that second fit in turn only delayed him still more.

A third delay, at this point, would be both unhelpful and extremely distressing.

“I’ll escort the children to their rooms,” Wei Changze volunteered, giving his wife and Wen Ruohan a meaningful look that escaped Lan Qiren completely. “You should probably go…talk. Good luck.” A brief pause, and then he said to Wen Ruohan, a little diffidently, “It was nice knowing you.”

That was a little odd: Lan Qiren hadn’t been aware that Wei Changze was on such good terms with Wen Ruohan. Perhaps they had had an opportunity to bond during their journey to the Nightless City?

No matter.

Lan Qiren watched the children go for perhaps an additional moment longer than he should have – another hairline fracture in his brutal self-control, this one larger, still unacceptable. As soon as he noticed, he reined himself in at once.

“As I said,” he resumed, “we have much to discuss – ”

“Inside,” Wen Ruohan said abruptly, practically biting off the word. “Now.”

Lan Qiren considered and then nodded. He hadn’t been thinking straight, trying to have a discussion like this out here – the Nightless City was not safe, it was full of potential traitors, like the one who had tricked Wen Ruohan. Far better that they retreat to Wen Ruohan’s study, where privacy arrays could be set up in relatively short order. They could all go there, the two of them and Cangse Sanren, who seemed disinclined to leave and who Lan Qiren knew from experience was very difficult to dissuade once she’d decided to stay; once there, they could have the critical discussion they needed to have.

Oddly enough, Wen Ruohan did not lead the way to his main study.

Instead, he led them to his bedroom, or rather to their bedroom, the one they shared, and once they’d arrived, he snapped, “Sit on the bed,” at Lan Qiren, who frowned disapprovingly at him.

“Now is not the time. There are more important things – ” he started to say, but Wen Ruohan interrupted him once more.

“Sit. Down.”

He was practically growling. Perhaps he was angry that Lan Qiren had left the Fire Palace without permission.

“Maybe you should sit,” Cangse Sanren said, which Lan Qiren had not been expecting. “It won’t delay the conversation, Qiren-gege, I promise. I’ll put up privacy talismans, all right? You sit.”

Lan Qiren reluctantly sat down. He was then surprised all over again – no, not surprised, he couldn’t be surprised, he couldn’t be anything, he couldn’t feel anything, he had to stay composed, he had to tell them – when Wen Ruohan did not sit down next to him, or at the desk, or anywhere reasonable, but instead lowered himself down onto the floor next to the bed.

It wasn’t until Wen Ruohan reached out with surprisingly gentle hands to take his injured ankle into his lap and started unwrapping the hastily patched-together brace that Lan Qiren realized what was going on.

“I do not require medical assistance,” he said impatiently. “I have to tell you – I found – there is – ”

To his horror, Lan Qiren found his voice cracking as he tried to put into words what he had discovered.

No, he thought frantically, no, not now. I will not succumb now. I will not fail them.

I will not!

He forced himself back to steadiness, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Wen Ruohan was watching him with a dark expression on his face, stormy, almost malevolent. It was as if he were angry, though the anger was not quite the same as any Lan Qiren had seen on him before. It did not seem to be directed at Lan Qiren, though he couldn’t imagine who else might be the subject of it at the moment.

No matter.

At a minimum, Wen Ruohan’s rage did not slow the steady and sure movement of his hands in treating Lan Qiren’s ankle, nor diminish the quality of his medical skills, and most importantly it did not seem to be impeding his willingness to listen to what Lan Qiren had to say. That was what mattered. He was here, he was listening, and Lan Qiren could tell him what he needed to know.

Now Lan Qiren just needed – he needed to actually say it.

After a moment, Lan Qiren cleared his throat and started again. “Cangse Sanren, you mentioned that you were going to go explore rumored hauntings in a mine in the vicinity of Xixiang, did you not?”

“I did,” Cangse Sanren confirmed, looking puzzled. Presumably she had not thought that he was going to start there. “It’s definitely haunted. Fixing it is…still an ongoing project, let’s say. We passed by it on the way here. Why? Is it important?”

“Immensely so,” Lan Qiren admitted, and felt bile rise up in the back of his throat the way it had been doing on a regular basis since he had realized what must have happened. That someone in his Gusu Lan sect, his sect that so prided itself on virtue and righteousness, had gotten involved in such a vile and disgusting thing, carelessly pursuing greed, closing their eyes to the evil they themselves were causing, and that evil compounding to such a degree that it was now causing hauntings, in direct violation to their duties as cultivators – it was almost unspeakable, particularly for someone like Lan Qiren, who loved his sect and his sect’s rules as much as he did. He felt nauseated every time he thought of it. “I believe…I have recently discovered some information that gives me reason to believe that what happened in that mine has something to do with – ”

With my brother’s madness.

“– with my Gusu Lan sect,” he concluded, finding himself unable to say the words directly. “Or, rather, with someone in my Gusu Lan sect.”

“Gusu Lan?” Wen Ruohan said, his voice sharp. “You’re thinking of Gusu Lan right now?”

“That makes sense, actually,” Cangse Sanren said, only a beat later. “That explains why the ghosts there bear a grudge against the Gusu Lan bloodline.”

“They what?” Wen Ruohan twisted to scowl at her. “You never mentioned that to me.”

“It didn’t seem like a you problem. It’s Lan Qiren’s family, not yours.”

“He is my – ” Wen Ruohan cut himself off, somewhat uncharacteristically. His scowl did not abate. “That would have been useful information. I would have expected you to share it."

“I don’t actually work for you, remember? Anyway, I didn't want to go into my theories about the massacre around the children, so I thought - Qiren! Are you all right?"

Lan Qiren's vision had temporarily gone hazy, with black spots around the edges as he fought down a wave of intense nausea, the burning bile in the back of his throat changing to something fishy and metallic. He’d known that there were hauntings there, but he had not realized, had not fully accepted, had not let himself think of what that might mean; he had hoped, he supposed, that it was just a matter of resentment accumulating, of evil acts drawing down their just rewards. But ghosts with a bloodline grudge – that meant that they blamed his sect, his family, for their unjust deaths. Add to that what Cangse Sanren had said regarding there being evidence of a massacre...

There could really only be one conclusion. A massacre at a mine owned in the name of Gusu Lan, a massacre which had left behind ghosts hungry for vengeance against Gusu Lan – yes, there could be only one reason for that.

Someone had done this.

Someone had done this in his sect’s name.

Someone had taken cultivators from their homes, likely entire families, and forced them to work in their mines in order to extract valuable ore while eking out a profit. Someone had then killed those people, though whether it was related to the work itself or as part of some sort of cover-up remained to be discovered. That didn’t change the fact that it had happened, and happened because of Gusu Lan.

Whoever had done this, anyone that had even contributed to this, anyone in his sect who was involved in it in any way, they all had to be punished. They had to be, due punishment and due justice, or else – or else what was the point –

Wen Ruohan abruptly rose up onto his knees and slammed his palm straight into Lan Qiren’s midsection, knocking all the air right out of him. Lan Qiren was taken completely by surprise, unable to put up any defense or resistance; he had no choice but to simply take the blow, spitting out the mouthful of blood that had already pooled in his mouth, and then brace himself for the pain –

There wasn’t any pain.

He blinked, and looked down.

Wen Ruohan’s palm was pressed firmly against his lower abdomen, right over his dantian, and he was transferring him spiritual energy. Though perhaps transferring was the wrong word: it was if he had merely opened the floodgates and was simply pouring his power into Lan Qiren directly, the spiritual energy filling him up as if he were a too-small container, the pulsing warmth of Wen Ruohan’s yang-based cultivation style heating Lan Qiren’s blood as it did, warming him from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.

He hadn’t even realized he’d been so cold.

“Congratulations,” Wen Ruohan said, voice immensely flat. He was angry once more. “You just came within a hair’s breadth of a qi deviation. Genuinely, this time. Never do that again.”

Lan Qiren felt embarrassed. The warmth of Wen Ruohan’s power was rapidly clearing his head, allowing some space for something other than panic and mortification and despair.

He took another deep breath, this time using it to circulate his own spiritual energy in a cleansing, spirit-settling routine, and when he finally felt calm enough to continue, shook his head.

“Forgive me. I will try to control myself better in the future,” he said, and did not understand why both Wen Ruohan and Cangse Sanren scowled at him as if he had said something wrong. “It is not important at the moment – ”

“Not important –!” “How can you say –?!”

“It is not,” Lan Qiren stressed. “The matter of the mine is of utmost importance, and not merely as a historical note or part of the resolution of an ongoing night-hunt. I believe that it can explain the way my brother has been behaving.”

“Your brother?” Wen Ruohan said, sounding surprised. “Do you even know what your brother is currently doing? He’s trying to destroy my sect.”

Lan Qiren winced.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s exaggerating,” Cangse Sanren said at once.

“Exaggerating?! He’s set me up as having started an insane war against the entire world, he’s gotten the other Great Sects to take up arms against me – ”

“And now that you’re not there, they won’t have an excuse to do anything,” she said tartly. “You’ll go back with the rest of your army, claim it was nothing but a mistake, and scare them all into agreeing to a ceasefire. You might take a loss, to be sure, and it might be embarrassing, but Qingheng-jun would have to be dreaming if he thought that something like this would be enough to destroy either you or your sect.”

“I agree,” Lan Qiren said quietly. “I am afraid that the impact on the Wen sect is only incidental to my brother’s real intention.”

They both stared at him. After a moment, Wen Ruohan pulled his hand away and rose to sit on the bed beside Lan Qiren, while Cangse Sanren pulled up a stool and sat in front of him.

“Let’s do this chronologically, the way we would when solving a night-hunt,” she said firmly, and Wen Ruohan inclined his head in silent agreement with her approach. “All right, Qiren, tell me: what happened with the mine? Ten years ago was around the start of your brother’s seclusion, and what happened with the mine must have happened a little bit before that. Was he involved?”

“Not that I know of. But He Kexin was.” He shut his eyes for a moment. The context was necessary, he knew, but he had spent so long keeping his sect’s secrets, his brother’s secrets, that it still felt like a betrayal when he haltingly explained: “She was his wife. She was a rogue cultivator, or said she was, and while he was still courting her, she – she went inside the Cloud Recesses and murdered one of our sect elders. One of our teachers. The evidence was clearly against her, but there was never any trial.”

He swallowed.

“Rather than let her face justice and be executed, my brother married her, and they both entered seclusion as penance. Permanent seclusion, particularly for her.”

Neither Wen Ruohan nor Cangse Sanren said anything. Lan Qiren was grateful.

“She died recently,” he continued. His lips and tongue felt strangely numb, reciting the facts of it as if he were a junior disciple reporting on a night-hunt, telling the tales of other people’s tragedies. Only this time, the tragedy was his own. “It was by her own hand; I was the one who found her body. That was the inciting incident that led my brother to return to the world.”

“You think there was something suspicious about her death?” Cangse Sanren asked, her hands folded together in her lap, her too-sharp fingernails vivid against the backs of her hands, her thumbs rubbing together as she listened. “That maybe it wasn’t suicide?”

“No, I was her sole connection to the outside world, it couldn’t have been anything else. Her sword was beside her, still wet with –” He broke off, unable to complete the sentence; he instead resumed at a different point. “At any rate, there was no indication from her that such an action was coming, in terms of depression or otherwise. It only recently occurred to me that she could have been incited to do it, goaded into it or even forced into it, perhaps through a letter containing threats or something of the sort. Anyway, it does not matter what actually happened. What matters is what my brother believes happened, and who he blames for it. And…what he intends to do to the ones he blames.”

“Annihilation,” Wen Ruohan said, his voice uncharacteristically soft and distant. He was staring off into space, seemingly consumed by some ancient memory. “Complete destruction, without mercy or regret. A broken-hearted Lan on the path of just revenge will not rest until they have obliterated the cause of their grief.”

As I would for you, if it were you, Lan Qiren thought painfully. Though you would not believe me.

“I have no direct evidence for it, but my intuition tells me that it is all somehow related to what happened in that mine,” he said, focusing on the current situation. “He Kexin’s death…in fact, I have even started to wonder whether the murder she committed, or perhaps more correctly was accused of committing, if that could somehow also be related to the crimes being perpetrated at the mine. I was not present at the time – I had gone away on business for the sect, some ridiculous negotiation or something; I don’t remember exactly what. It was all over by the time I returned, and the result of that whole affair was a matter that caused me great pain, so I never sought out or learned the details. That is my failing. But it seems to me that my brother’s plans all center around the area near the Xixiang mine: Quanjiao, Jiujiang…”

“Yuexi as well,” Wen Ruohan supplied grimly, nodding. “I was the one who suggested that we reach an agreement for support in a war of conquest, but Qingheng-jun was the one who suggested Quanjiao Liu as his target. Given the natural land formations in the area and where the Quanjiao Liu sect resides, when the Lan sect forces come down from Gusu, they will be the first to reach Xixiang. It’s a natural resting point on the way.”

Lan Qiren nodded. “And once there…”

“Wait, wait, how would this all work?” Cangse Sanren asked, looking between the two of them. “According to what Qiren has said, Quanjiao Liu isn’t the sect that was implicated in the mine, or in He Kexin’s eventual death as a consequence of it; Gusu Lan is. Qingheng-jun is Gusu Lan’s sect leader. Even if he wanted to revenge himself on those involved with the mine, he doesn’t need to go to such lengths! Can’t he just order the execution of whoever it was that did it?”

“That assumes he blames only the individuals involved,” Wen Ruohan said. “If I were in that situation, I would hardly limit myself to that. I can see the argument now: Gusu Lan speaks of virtue in the day yet acts corruptly in the dark, condemns his wife for the crimes she committed but permits those that put her into the situation to get away cleanly – the situation they put her and him into, since as a devoted lover and a Lan he would feel he had no choice but to rescue his love even at such a high cost. And yet, not satisfied with permitting the one great injustice, they came once more, this time to violate their peaceful seclusion and rob his beloved not only of her freedom but now even of her very life…” He shook his head. “Hypocrisy is always the more bitter when it comes from those that you hold in high esteem.”

Lan Qiren bowed his head. That was also the conclusion he had reached.

His brother not only wanted him dead, whether because he had been the leader of the sect in all those years yet never remedied their fault or for other reasons of his own, but had aimed his ire against their sect – and not merely the wrongdoers, which would have been understandable, but against the entirety of their sect.

Their Gusu Lan sect.

His Gusu Lan sect.

“That all seems rather extreme,” Cangse Sanren objected. “To blame his own sect…to seek to harm his own sect…!”

“Ten years is a great deal of time to be alone and stewing upon all your wrongs. Madness and heartbreak can lead a man to contemplate acts of great cruelty.” Wen Ruohan’s lips curled up, though he wasn’t really smiling. “Trust me.”

Lan Qiren’s heart throbbed in his chest. He did. No one else might, and he might be a fool for doing so, yet another madman in love, but he did. He trusted Wen Ruohan, even though his body still bore the marks of Wen Ruohan’s distrust of him.

Cangse Sanren scowled again. “I understand what you mean, but still…”

“I agree with Lan Qiren,” Wen Ruohan overrode Cangse Sanren easily. “Qingheng-jun’s war strategy makes little sense if he were not trying to cause harm to the Lan sect. He deliberately released information to the local sects to initiate a war that would draw the attention of the entire cultivation world – even putting aside the fact that I will accuse him of slander and trickery, it would be remarkably foolish for him to kick up a fuss in that precise area, especially right after there were rumors of hauntings, if he did not intend for the world to uncover what is there. It does not seem to matter overmuch to him that such a revelation would be a tremendous loss of face for Gusu Lan.”

That struck a chord in Lan Qiren’s memory.

“That is not the only time,” he murmured. “Much of his behavior recently has been – foolish, if you think of it from the perspective of someone who should be guarding the best interests of the Gusu Lan sect. So many of the things he has done have risked losing face for the sect. Marrying me out, not warning the sect about what he did, accusing me in public of taking his children…”

Wen Ruohan made a strangled noise deep in the back of his throat.

“That damn Wang Liu,” he spat out when they looked askance at him. His hands had tightened into fists, and he was glaring into the air, his gaze murderous. “He was the spy that – he was a traitor in my ranks, seemingly spying for me on Gusu Lan but in fact spying on me. Probably for Lanling Jin, though I believe now on behalf of Qingheng-jun.”

He was the one that had tricked Wen Ruohan into believing the worst about Lan Qiren, Lan Qiren assumed, and presumably also the one who had gotten Wen Ruohan to go to Jiujiang to set off the trap his brother had laid for him. One of Wen Ruohan’s own spies…yes, that tracked; they were the ones Wen Ruohan trusted the most. It seemed almost unbelievable that his brother would destroy such a valuable asset just to set up this trap, particularly given that Wen Ruohan seemed to have slipped out of the worst part of it with relative ease.

No, it was unbelievable. Lan Qiren’s brother was not a fool, except perhaps when it came to love. If he had done something, there was a reason – they just hadn’t figured out what that reason was yet.

“I was particularly reminded just now of a fact that appears in retrospect to be very unusual,” Wen Ruohan said. “At the Lotus Pier, during the discussion conference, it was Wang Liu who first informed me that the Lan sect heirs could not be found in the Cloud Recesses.”

Lan Qiren’s head jerked up.

“Are you saying he gave Xichen and Wangji to you deliberately? To you?” he exclaimed. “It is one thing to send me here, accepting or perhaps even hoping that I would end my days in your Fire Palace, but those are his sons – not only his sons, but the sect heirs! The next generation!”

Wen Ruohan’s face had spasmed as Lan Qiren spoke, and he looked down at his still-clenched fists with a grimace, looking as though he’d bitten into something bitter.

“Uh, Qiren-gege,” Cangse Sanren said, sounding amused. “You asked me to bring them here, too, remember? Anyway, I hate to poke a hole in the excellent theory the two of you are drawing up, but you’ve forgotten one thing: your brother is still Gusu Lan’s sect leader. If he really wanted to obliterate the sect, he has any number of far easier options he could take – I mean, just in terms of pure practicality, he could just poison your water source, couldn’t he?”

Lan Qiren scowled at her. “Thank you for that gruesome image, Cangse Sanren.”

The thought of everyone he loved choking to death, faces gone purple and foam on their lips – the bodies falling where they lay along the serene paths of the Cloud Recesses – no one left to bury the bodies, drawing in flies as the rot set in – the beauty of the place forever marred –

Cangse Sanren winced, looking embarrassed and, for once, a little ashamed of herself. “Yes, well, you know. Always a pleasure to trouble you, Qiren-gege.”

“Water source,” Wen Ruohan suddenly said. He was staring out into space again. “Water source. Redirection. The enhancement arrays!”

Lan Qiren frowned at him, not understanding. “Arrays? What are you talking about?”

He reached up to stroke his beard.

Cangse Sanren gave him a sharp look, and he abruptly remembered that he had been hiding that hand on purpose – it was the one missing the two smallest nails. He glanced at Wen Ruohan, who was still distracted by whatever revelation he was having, carefully completed the action to avoid drawing his attention, then tucked his hand back into his sleeve, giving Cangse Sanren a pointed look that encouraged her to disregard what she had noticed.

“I snuck Sect Leader Wen out of Jiujiang through the furthest tunnels left by the mine,” Cangse Sanren explained, clearly deciding not to ask any questions for the time being, though the set of her jaw suggested she was definitely going to bring it up again later on. “Spiritual iron, you know how it is; the tunnels go on for quite a while. While we were passing through, he noticed that some of the arrays in the mine weren’t suppression arrays – wait, did I mention the suppression arrays? The whole mine was full of them.”

Lan Qiren grimaced. Enough arrays to constitute a mine “full” of them suggested that it was more than merely a single person involved on the part of Gusu Lan, led by someone quite high-ranking.

Probably a sect elder, though he hadn’t had the time or resources to figure out who. No one else would have been able to get away with using the name of the sect rather than their own in purchasing the mine. Certainly no one else would have been able to conceal such a big matter from Lan Qiren when he had had the role of sect leader, and yet conceal it they had…

“Anyway, on top of the suppression arrays, all of which were at least ten years old, there were apparently a bunch of new arrays, these ones only a few months old at most. Sect Leader Wen said that they were enhancement arrays, the sort that you use to set up gate wards so that you can direct them from the inside, and…uh…something about water? For damming rivers?”

“Redirection arrays,” Wen Ruohan corrected her. He looked somewhere between appalled and begrudgingly impressed, which meant whatever he’d figured out was probably an utter atrocity on a scale that Lan Qiren could scarcely begin to contemplate – he had that sort of personality. “You use them for redirecting rivers, particularly when there’s a risk of flood, or when you’re trying to build up a dam. They’re exceptionally effective, if very much a blunt instrument, with no flexibility. However, you would never use them in a mine.”

Lan Qiren didn’t understand.

Judging from her face, neither did Cangse Sanren.

“There’s a reservoir not far from the mountain with the mine?” she offered. “Is that relevant?”

The expression on Wen Ruohan’s face shifted a little bit further towards “begrudgingly impressed.”

“Whatever the plan is, it is apparently even more unconscionable than we’d previously imagined,” Lan Qiren observed, suddenly and rather inappropriately touched by that dreadful feeling of mixed chagrin and fondness that he had developed when faced with Wen Ruohan’s ridiculousness. He brutally suppressed the feeling at once: even if it were not horribly inappropriate given the serious subject of their conversation, he suspected that Wen Ruohan would not be open to receiving any indications of his regard at the moment. If his reasoning regarding the motivation behind Wen Ruohan’s reaction was correct, his feelings were likely to be a sensitive subject. “I assume these redirection arrays are going to be used for something other than their intended purpose? Why would they not be used in a mine?”

Wen Ruohan’s lips twitched. “Consider the power required to redirect or dam up a river – to take all of that force of rushing water and change the direction in which it flows. Now imagine instead that you apply that force and power to the earth, which is far less flexible than water. Earth will not flow. It will break.”

“Uh-huh,” Cangse Sanren said. “So, what happens next? An earthquake or something?”

She paused, her lazy expression freezing and shifting into horror as she absorbed the implications of what she had just said. Lan Qiren was right there alongside her.

The mental image coming to mind was as bad as the one he’d had about the poison.

“An earthquake,” Wen Ruohan confirmed with macabre relish. “Even merely painting the new arrays will have knocked some of the original suppression arrays loose. Initial activation of the new arrays, filling them up with power to make them ready to use, would knock all the old ones down, dismantling them all in a single sweep, every single one of those arrays lined up along all those unstable tunnels. Full activation would try to twist those tunnels as if they were a riverbed – the whole mountain would start to tear in two, creating avalanches and landslides, churning up mud and rocks like water in the rapids, sending them down upon the local populace like the sudden onset of a flood. Add to that the presence of a reservoir, and you don’t just have a local catastrophe, but one capable of tainting the water for the entire area all around…!” He shook his head. “Nature itself would have trouble conceiving of a more calamitous disaster.”

“But why?” Lan Qiren cried out, trying to stand up – unsuccessfully, as Wen Ruohan caught him by the shoulders and Cangse Sanren reached out to press down on his knees, both of them holding him down. “Why would he do such a thing? Why – those are innocent lives in the valley! They’re not even cultivators! They have nothing to do with He Kexin, nothing to do with Gusu Lan – why would he harm them?”

“He’s mad. What other reason does he need?” was Wen Ruohan’s cynical answer.

“Ghosts,” Cangse Sanren said.

“…that is not a traditional reason for murder,” Wen Ruohan said, voice droll. “Rather the opposite; it’s usually more of a consequence. Ghosts?”

“No, not that, ghosts. The ghosts.” Cangse Sanren pulled back her hands and pressed the heels of both palms against her eyes as if it would help her think better. “The ghosts in the mine! They have a grudge against the Lan bloodline!”

“So you mentioned,” Lan Qiren said, feeling sick all over again. Who even knew how many were there? And all of them aimed at his sect, at his family, and with justice on their side, which automatically weakened the spells his Lan sect would use against them, stripping his kinsmen of their defenses without their knowing… “We all know what such a thing must signify, of course – ”

Cangse Sanren waved her hands in front of him, forcing him into silence, and leaped to her feet, starting to pace frantically, incoherently mumbling to herself at top speed as she worked out whatever idea she’d gotten.

(“Why does she get to pace and I don’t?” Lan Qiren asked Wen Ruohan, only half-serious.

“Shut up,” Wen Ruohan said.

“It seems unfair – ”

“People who nearly suffered qi deviation do not get a say.”)

Finally Cangse Sanren came to a halt, turning to look down at them both.

“Maybe you’re right,” she said. “Both of you, maybe you’re right. Maybe Qingheng-jun, that jerk, really does want to destroy Gusu Lan. Madness is as madness does, after all. But let’s take Sect Leader Wen as an example: being cruel or being mad doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy being in power, right?”

“Power is very nice, yes,” Wen Ruohan said, voice extremely dry.

She ignored him. “For Qingheng-jun, destroying Gusu Lan means destroying his own power base, just when he’d finally gotten it back. Isn’t that a pity? Isn’t that a waste?”

“If he is intent on revenge, he may not care for such considerations,” Lan Qiren pointed out.

“That’s true. But what if he did?What if there was a way to achieve both goals: to destroy the sect but still keep his power?”

“How?” Lan Qiren asked.

She pointed at his face, apparently uncaring of how extremely rude such a gesture was. “You nearly had a qi deviation just now, Qiren-gege,” she said. “Why? What were you thinking?”

Lan Qiren blinked, having not expected the question.

“I – I was thinking of justice,” he said, and shrugged helplessly. “Only that my sect must find whoever from Gusu Lan was involved in the tragedy at the mine and punish them. We must. Or else…I mean…what would be the point? Our rules are clear. They say – ”

Cangse Sanren held up her hand again, once more calling for silence.

“That’s it,” she announced. “That’s how you do it.”

Lan Qiren stared at her blankly.

“I understand,” Wen Ruohan said, which was good because Lan Qiren most certainly did not. He was frowning again. “Qingheng-jun does intend to obliterate Gusu Lan, only his intention is not to do so through the loss of its reputation or the rampant murder of its disciples. He intends to destroy its heart.”

“Its heart?” Lan Qiren asked.

Wen Ruohan’s eyes flickered over to him. He pressed his lips together tightly, his jaw working; he did not answer the question.

“The rules, Lan Qiren,” Cangse Sanren said, her voice as gentle as it ever got. “Your Lan sect rules.”

Lan Qiren opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“We’re all orthodox cultivators, but your family rules are what makes your Gusu Lan sect unique,” she continued. “That’s what makes you you. And you, you of all Lan, are the exemplar of what it means to be devoted to those rules, the quintessential example of what it means to be a Lan of Gusu Lan.”

Maybe that’s why he hates you so much, she meant, and Lan Qiren – understood.

Now it was his turn to clench his hands into fists.

“I see,” he said, striving for calm – and getting it, but only because Wen Ruohan reached for his wrist and started transferring spiritual energy to him once more without saying a word. “I see. But I do not understand. The rules…the rules are merely principles. Even if our Wall of Discipline was destroyed, even if all of our most precious books were burned, the rules would still exist as long as there was someone left upon the earth that remembered them. How could he destroy them?”

“That’s the really nasty bit,” Cangse Sanren said, as if a plot that involved deliberately causing an earthquake had not yet reached the pinnacle of its evil. “The ghosts in the mine, and their bloodline grudge: that’s how it’ll happen. Initial activation to damage the suppression arrays, full activation to cause a landslide…”

She shook her head.

“I’m going out of order. Take a step back: look at it how an outsider would. Gusu Lan starts a war of conquest – sure, they try to blame Qishan Wen for it at first, but eventually the truth comes out, they were the ones that started it. They arrive in full force in Xixiang, a natural resting point. While they’re there, some ghosts start attacking them. That part’s not hard, the ones that already escaped from the suppression arrays won’t be able to resist the presence of that much Lan blood; they’ll be driven by their bloodline grudge to attack at once. Naturally, like any good cultivators, the Lan sect will respond at once to the presence of evil, initiating a counterattack.”

Lan Qiren nodded, following along.

“Only then, by apparent coincidence, something goes wrong. A minor earthquake, or so it seems. The suppression arrays, which they don’t know exist, are destroyed. Suddenly, for no reason they know of, all the ghosts get loose. All the ghosts attack. The Lan are taken by surprise by an offensive force far beyond their expectations, one that bears a grudge against them specifically. They have no choice but to counterattack with bigger moves, formations, arrays…”

“And then a major earthquake hits, seemingly in response to their actions.” Lan Qiren squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could, causing himself pain in his temples. “The effects are devastating: destruction of human life in the local vicinity, death and misery in countless number, and on top of that the poisoning of the reservoir, promising years of hardship for all those that survive…it would seem as if it were their fault. They would think it was their fault.”

“What’s the point, otherwise?” Cangse Sanren echoed his earlier words. “Without justice, without honor, what’s the point of having all those rules? What’s the point of all that restriction and restraint, all those instructions designed to show you how to be righteous and virtuous, to show you how to be a good person, if in the end you still cause such atrocities with your own two hands…?”

Lan Qiren wanted to throw up.

It was – it was unthinkable. The guilt his Lan sect disciples would feel at what they thought they’d caused, the blame – and then, if his brother chose that moment, that moment, to reveal the truth of what had happened in the mine, to place the blame even more firmly on the corruption he believed underlaid the principles of Gusu Lan…

How had his brother put it, back in the Lotus Pier, when he had been enraged beyond reason, hurling accusations at Lan Qiren? Shameless and spoiled, he’d called him. Your so-inflexible righteousness scarcely hiding the rot of your hypocrisy…

Lan Qiren had had nearly three meltdowns simply after having found out about what some rotten apple in his sect had done in his sect’s name, and he had the assurance of knowing that he was not personally complicit in that crime. If he had thought that he was complicit, that he had contributed to it – he wasn’t sure he’d be able to live with himself.

The lonely mountains amidst the clouds, the mellow lake with the sweet calls of birds, that beautiful scenery of Gusu. Who could lay eyes upon such a scene and retain their serenity if they believed that their sins had split stone and poisoned water? Which among them would ever be able to go home again?

“It’s really very clever,” Wen Ruohan remarked. “The Lan sect would be decimated. Those who are like Lan Qiren here would likely die rather than give up on their rules or internal sense of order, and it doesn’t really matter whether they’d die directly through the shock of qi deviation or merely through suicide. But most of the rest of them would survive, broken-hearted and numb, and in so doing they would be the perfect captive audience for a charismatic sect leader. Pair that with a timely ‘discovery’ of what happened in the mine, which he could use as an excuse to execute any of the sect elders that do not stand with him, whether they were involved or not, and then there’s no one left to stop him. Unencumbered by the past or any restraint, Qingheng-jun would then be free to lead the whole Lan sect into a brand-new era, shaping them all in his own image and to his own liking…no, it really is very clever.”

He chuckled to himself, not noticing the appalled expression Cangse Sanren sent his way.

“You know what’s really well done? He even accounted for the fact that such a decimation would weaken his sect’s strength,” he said, waving a hand as he sketched it out. “This whole war business, getting me trapped in Jiujiang, setting me up…I’d wondered why he would be willing to burn such a valuable spy for a plan that wouldn’t work to destroy me, but this? This makes it all make sense. If everything had worked the way he planned, it might have been worth it. If I hadn’t been able to retreat through the mine, if I’d had no other choice but to start the war in reality, if I’d gone ahead and attacked the other sects to use their defenses as my own –”

Wait, had he really been considering that as an option?!

No, wait, he was Wen Ruohan. Of course he had. If anything, it was more a surprise that he’d refrained.

“ – if I’d done that, acted the way I always act, the way everyone expects me to act, then the other Great Sects wouldn’t have been able to pull back without killing me, or at least making a solid effort at doing so. A war between us at this stage would have no real victors. Whether or not the other sects did manage to take me down, it would have caused significant casualties on all sides. And then all five of the Great Sects would be weakened at once – the Lan through internal devastation, the others through war – so no one is left to take advantage of Gusu Lan’s weakness. Clever! Very clever. Very, very clever.”

“Are you finding this funny?” Cangse Sanren asked, then turned to Lan Qiren. “Is he finding this funny?”

Her tone suggested that she had more questions about Lan Qiren’s taste than anything else.

Lan Qiren had been asking himself the very same question. Unfortunately the answer seemed to be that it was a little like watching a cat enthusiastically batting at a toy mouse, rolling around in ecstatic murderous bliss – horrifying in its implication, watching a creature relishing its own potential cruelty to another living being, but somehow in its own way also strangely endearing.

He shrugged apologetically at her. As long as Wen Ruohan wasn’t getting any ideas of his own from this debacle…

“I have always appreciated art,” Wen Ruohan said haughtily, finally noticing their expressions. “Even when I am its target. Regardless of its vile aims, you must admit that the plan is skillfully made.”

“Well, I’d hope so, given that Qingheng-jun seems to have spent quite a few years of his seclusion doing little else but thinking of it.” Cangse Sanren rolled her eyes and tossed herself back onto her stool. “All right. Enough speculation. Even if this isn’t his plan, the potential consequences of us being right about it are so dire that we have no choice but to act as if it is. So the next question is, how do we stop it?”

“Our priority must be to prevent the disaster,” Lan Qiren said at once. “Even putting aside the psychological impact on my Gusu Lan sect, the loss of innocent life alone is unthinkable, and one cannot stop a landslide once it has begun. Preserving innocent lives must always come first.”

“That’s easier said than done, though,” Wen Ruohan pointed out. “Enhancement arrays are used to set up gate wards for good reason: the core array could be located anywhere, and only by stopping the core array will you be able to guarantee that it will not go off. Otherwise, the only way to stop the disaster is to dismantle each of the enhancement arrays individually, which is an extremely time-consuming process for most people.”

Cangse Sanren rolled her eyes. “Not for you, I assume.”

“What can I say? I am exceptionally powerful and exceedingly talented…though admittedly that many arrays would take quite a bit of time even for me. Anyway, my point is, we can’t just go around trying to break a bunch of arrays in the middle of a war zone. We would be set upon at once. The disaster cannot be our priority; stopping the war must take precedence.”

“Don’t forget the ghosts,” Cangse Sanren said with a frown. “If it’s a massacre of cultivators, especially the types of cultivators that are rogue cultivators or from small sects without soul-calming treasures or rituals, that means there are a lot of ghosts, and powerful ghosts, too. Even if we managed to stop the impending natural disaster, those ghosts being released would be a calamity in and of itself – and we’re all cultivators, aren’t we? Fighting evil takes precedence even over war.”

“Not if the war is itself perceived as fighting evil,” Wen Ruohan objected. “It’s not as if we’re still talking about a war of conquest here. And let us not forget, my Wen sect’s army is still there. Without my presence, they can stir up confusion and buy time, but eventually they will be overrun and taken prisoner, and I will have to buy them back at great cost.”

“That’s not the priority.”

“It is a priority,” Lan Qiren interjected, voice firm. “The Wen sect cultivators are innocent lives as well, Cangse Sanren. It is not their fault that my brother has decided to use them as a pawn in his strategy.”

She shrugged carelessly. “No, but it’s not the fault of those small sects in the area either, is it? They’re all probably burning through their family treasures at this very instant, trying to defend themselves from the Wen sect and its very deserved reputation – and it’ll be much worse when the other Great Sects get there. It always is, for the small sects. We have to move fast.”

“There’s a limit to how fast we can go. I can and will summon the rest of my army, but gathering and moving them will take some time.”

“We may not have the time. How long before the Lan sect forces reach Xixiang and trigger the first step in the trap…? They may be there already, even as we speak.” Lan Qiren shook his head, putting it all together in his head. There was only one solution he could devise to their situation, but Wen Ruohan and Cangse Sanren were not going to like it…

No matter.

He would convince them. He had to.

“The real issue here is not any one of the ones we have identified,” he said, “but rather the combination of all of them. It is that interconnectivity that makes my brother’s plan so difficult to oppose: we have too many problems to face, each of them equally important. We are all right, and all wrong – there is no precedence here, no order or hierarchy that can be established.”

He paused briefly.

“That means that the appropriate solution is – ”

“Absolutely not.”

Lan Qiren sighed as Wen Ruohan sat up straight and glared balefully at him. He had expected this.

Cangse Sanren looked between the two of them, and scowled. “What is it? What’s his suggestion?”

“He is suggesting that we split our forces,” Wen Ruohan spat out.

She blinked. “That seems…reasonable enough? When you’ve got both multiple problems and multiple problem-solvers…?”

“Oh yes, it’s very reasonable,” Wen Ruohan said. “Extremely reasonable. So reasonable, in fact, that there is no reason not to make the suggestion straightforwardly – and even someone as pedantic as our Lan Qiren does not talk in circles for no reason. Which means that there is a reason, and the reason is that he thinks that we’re going to dislike the split he is going to propose. And that means…”

“Lan Qiren,” Cangse Sanren exclaimed. “You cannot possibly be thinking of going somewhere by yourself!”

“It is the only logical conclusion,” Lan Qiren said firmly. “Between the two of you, you can sort out the main problems we are facing: the war, the arrays, the disaster, the ghosts. That leaves us with only one problem that you have not yet accounted for. The problem that lies behind all the others.”

“…your brother.”

“My brother,” Lan Qiren agreed.

They sat there in silence for a little while, Lan Qiren mentally going over his arguments as Wen Ruohan and Cangse Sanren both visibly seethed.

“I see your logic,” Cangse Sanren finally said, the words bitten out through her teeth. “He hates you, doesn’t he? I haven’t seen that much of it directly myself, only what I’ve heard and pieced together, but that type of hatred – that’s irrational. That’s what you’re going for, isn’t it?”

“It is irrational,” Wen Ruohan confirmed, though his lips were twisted into a grimace. “Qingheng-jun’s actions against Lan Qiren specifically have consistently gone beyond what might be expected from a sane man, much less as part of a strategic plot. I relied upon that tendency of his myself when I negotiated our marriage, and again later on; it appears to be as reliable as the sunrise. I agree that it is unquestionable that if there is anyone he will deviate from his plan for, it is Lan Qiren.”

Good. “Then you see – ”

“That does not mean that I agree that you should go confront him. Where would you even go? He is undoubtedly in the midst of the Lan sect encampment, and, surname aside, you are no longer a Lan. You belong to my Wen sect, and our sects are currently at war.” Wen Ruohan shook his head firmly. “If you try to go talk to him, he will simply have his disciples take you prisoner and use you as a hostage against me.”

Lan Qiren was distracted for a brief moment, wondering if such a ploy would work. More than likely, Wen Ruohan would just laugh in the messenger’s face at their gall in thinking they had a handle on him…no, he was being too cruel, both to himself and to Wen Ruohan. He personally thought it plausible that Wen Ruohan felt something for him, though he was likely in firm denial about it, but even if he didn’t, his overweening pride would never permit him to tolerate an insult to someone he had publicly claimed as one of his own.

“He will not be in the encampment,” he said instead. “He will be on his own, just as I will be.”

“What makes you so sure?” Cangse Sanren asked.

“Because this is his revenge. Because even in the Lotus Pier, he did not give an order, he took action himself, and knowing what I now know, I would expect nothing less.” Lan Qiren did not look at Wen Ruohan, not wanting to give himself away. “Nothing else would be enough.”

He had not had the leisure, if one could call it that, in the panicked interval between his discovery and the arrival of Wen Ruohan and Cangse Sanren and the rest to really sit down and imagine what it would be like for him if Wen Ruohan died. Even though he had heard the rumors that were currently flying through the Nightless City with abandon about what was going on in Jiujiang, the incipient war, the movement of all the Great Sects, the possible consequences, he had always remained confident that Wen Ruohan, at least, would remain untouched – he knew that the man was not mad, after all, and between his personal power and his paranoia, Wen Ruohan would be hard to pin down. He was practically a god, or at least he was always saying he was, and he unquestionably was the most powerful man in the cultivation world. What could harm him? What could possibly kill him, other than a clever betrayal such as this?

To think of it…

Lan Qiren did not want to think of it.

It was like thinking of something happening to one of his nephews, unthinkable and gut-wrenching.

It was also not helpful.

“That is why I must go face him alone,” he said, forcing himself to resume the conversation at hand. “Wen Ruohan correctly identified that the ideal approach to settling this issue without bloodshed would be to stop my brother from activating the core array in the first place. He will not go anywhere near that array if he believes he is being watched – under such circumstances, when faced with the choice between doing it personally or having it not be done at all, he would resort to ordering someone else to do it. But if the only one watching him is me…”

“Madness is as madness does,” Wen Ruohan said. “Cruelty is as cruelty does, too. If it’s you, he wouldn’t stop. On the contrary, he would probably take you there himself just for the pleasure of seeing the look on your face while he does it.”

Lan Qiren swallowed.

“Yes,” he said, and the voice inside his head that was still the child that had looked up to his distant but glorious elder brother cried out Why do you hate me so? “Yes, I agree. And that will give me the opportunity to find the core array, and, if I can, a way to stop him from activating it.”

“Qiren, I hate to remind you, but you didn’t exactly come out on top the last time you and your brother had a conversation, and that was when he was making an effort not to reveal himself as being completely insane,” Cangse Sanren said. She was nervously gnawing on her lower lip with her teeth. “I’m not even talking about the fact that he’s supposed to be this amazing swordsman that can put you to shame without blinking twice even before he went into seclusion to do nothing but focus on his cultivation for ten years, I mean that you ended up with internal injuries over a chat. And you’re in worse shape now than you were then – don’t think I didn’t see what happened to your hand!”

“Your hand?” Wen Ruohan said sharply, immediately reaching up to grab Lan Qiren’s arms and pulling them out in front of him, revealing his mangled fingers. “What happened – ”

“You do not get a say on this,” Lan Qiren informed him. “For what I think should be obvious reasons.”

Wen Ruohan’s face paled, but to give him credit for stubbornness, he carried on regardless. “They should not have touched you – ”

“You are not going to punish them for doing what you ordered them to do.” It was those poor seamstresses all over again. “The problem is not that people you have assigned a given task have carried out that task, even if the task happens to be torture. The problem is that you have a place devoted specifically to torturing people.”

“Wait, the Fire Palace?” Cangse Sanren said. “Are we talking about the Fire Palace? He put you in the Fire Palace?! Qiren – ”

“Please do not intervene in my marital affairs, Cangse Sanren.”

“This isn’t a marital affair, this is bullshit – ”

“Cangse Sanren, no vulgar language!”

“Yes, keep your nose and your mouth out of this,” Wen Ruohan said. “It’s none of your business – ”

“Qiren is my friend – ”

“Will you both be quiet?!” Lan Qiren shouted at the top of his lungs. “Now is not the time!”

Reluctantly, both Wen Ruohan and Cangse Sanren shut their mouths, though they looked unresigned.

Lan Qiren glared at them both.

After a little while, when they finally started to look a little more sheepish than angry, he finally spoke.

“He is my brother,” he said. “It is my sect he is seeking to destroy. My rules. Both of you know me well. You must know what it means to me, what he is doing. What it means to me personally.”

They knew. He could see it on their faces – they knew.

“You want to hold me back because you care for me. I understand that. But sending me against him is our best chance at stopping what is going to happen, and stopping what is going to happen is the most important thing right now. If my brother succeeds…if he breaks my sect…”

He pressed his lips together. He did not want to say it.

Not because it wasn’t true – do not tell lies – but because he knew it would hurt them both, these two people who, other than his nephews, at times seemed to be the only people left in the world who whole-heartedly cared for him.

But it was true.

“If my brother destroys my Gusu Lan sect, he will destroy me, too.”

It was just as Wen Ruohan had said: once the Lan sect’s heart was gone, once the rules were gone, those people like Lan Qiren would not be able to survive. Whether through qi deviation or by turning their swords against themselves, just as He Kexin had done… Lan Qiren had been sect leader. Sect leader, and for ten years – his sect had been more than merely his home, more than merely his family. It had been his constant companion, always in his thoughts; it had been as close to him as any wife or husband could ever be.

He had given his sect his entire life.

How could he do any less now?

“Fine,” Wen Ruohan said. His hands were fists again. “Fine. Have it your way. We’ll handle the rest of it, while you go to confront your brother.”

“Thank you,” Lan Qiren said, bowing his head.

And only then did he let himself begin to feel afraid.

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

A/N: just so you all know, this is what is currently going on with the dinner: He Zhong: So like. The Sect Leader's totally obsessed with Lan Qiren, huh. Shen Mingbi: Yeah, no kidding. He Zhong: Ugh. Man. Now I'm even MORE convinced he's going to have me murdered! long exhale Anyway, thanks for letting me rant. Shen Mingbi: No problem, you're hot. Want to have sex? He Zhong: …would that not make the Sect Leader even more likely to kill me? Shen Mingbi: Honestly? Probably makes it less.

#mdzs #lan qiren #wen ruohan #cangse sanren #my fic #my fics #Megafic

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