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littleapplle · 3 months ago

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gege, help!!

you're afraid you'll finish highschool without knowing how to kiss. don't worry though, caleb gege always has a solution. - 1.9k w. not proofread srry</3 cw.: a single mention of deepthroating, mentions of masturbation and fingering, dry humping, caleb is called gege, caleb calls you little apple, pipsqueak, good girl and baby, implied cunnilingus at the end ig..

Caleb thinks that at some point in his childhood, the line where what he thought was fraternal love finished, and his boyish hunger for you started blending dangerously close.

Even though he was only a year older, he was always in charge of taking care of you while grandma was busy.

Your cutesy backpack is too heavy for you to carry after school? Gege can handle it. It’s raining and the dark skies are roaring too loud? Gege will cover your ears while you bury your chubby cheeks on his neck. Some ugly kids at school made fun of the piggytails he did on your hair? Oh don’t worry, gege will have a little chat with them.

While you two were still young, him being eight years old and you seven, it came off just as his helpful, cool, big brother act but as you two grew, grandma’s eyes were always peeled open and focused on Caleb’s movements. Oh do not get me wrong, she loved him, yes, but she knew there was something rotten in eighteen years old Caleb’s mind.

You weren’t gege’s little apple anymore, your style was different, you grew a little taller, you didn’t need Caleb’s help to brush your hair anymore, nor did you need to bury your face in his beefy arms to muffle the disturbing noises of storms. You two were still close, he walked you to your classes, helped you with stem exams –he insisted on helping because it was, not so secretly, his way of showing off– , he listened to your complaints about your friends and girly gossip.

You two were close, always have been, but he notices that during bedtime, your lips press a little longer on his cheek before you go to your room. When you hug him from behind all he can focus on is on your boobs squished between you two. You grew. Caleb doesn’t know if that triggers a bitter taste under his tongue or if it ignites an overwhelming heat on his lower stomach.

You were a pretty little thing, of course other boys in your class probably- no- definitely eyed you with malice. Oh he feels dizzy. His baby apple? Being thirsted over by other men? Nuh uh.

Things go bad bad when you’re complaining about your ‘girl problems’ sprawled in his bed with your tummy down. If he had to be honest, he wasn’t paying attention, his back faced you as he sat on his desk, focused on his physics problems. His brain shuts down once you mention something in particular.

“-So yeah, i dunno if i’ll go on the date. I don’t want my first kiss to be with a random highschool boy.” You sigh while burying your face in his pillow. Did they ever smell this good?

If his back wasn’t turned to you, you’d definitely be able to see his brain trying to process the information.

He repeats quietly. “Date?”

“Well yeah- ah Caleb! Pay attention to what i’m saying!” You groan. “The situation is tragic! I don’t wanna leave highschool without a single kiss” Then, a dramatic cry escapes your throat. He knows what you’re doing. “I dun’ wanna kiss a random boy though.”

“Kiss me then.”

He spins on his chair to finally face you, calmly staring at your body. Your pajama shorts cling to your ass stupidly tight, he is surprised grandma hasn’t nagged at you to throw it out yet. The words slip from his lips with a little too honesty, a little too quick, a little too eager and the moment you notice he isn’t joking you jump on the mattress.

“Caleb!” You cry out, “I’m serious. Like, serious, serious!”

“You wanted a solution, i gave you one, pips.” He shrugs.

He can see that for a moment, you consider it before shaking your head quickly. “It’s wrong!”, is what you claim and it only makes that rotten streak in him grow a little stronger. The thought of having this kind of little secret between you two, you in his bed whining so cutely in such… indecent outfit. Caleb feels his cock twitch in his boxers eagerly.

“It’s only wrong if you tell grandma.” He counters. “You want a kiss, i offered you one. Nothing wrong with that, pipsqueak.” You hate how his words sound too sweet, dripping from his tongue with honey. You wanted to deny it just a little longer but your cunt betrays you the second you think about your old fantasies about him.

You swore to yourself you’d never think about it again, punishing your mind for thinking about Caleb while stuffing your fingers in your virgin cunt. You promised yourself every time it was the last time you’d pinch your clit under your pink duvet while thinking about how big gege’s hands were and how he manhandles you around effortlessly when you two are roughhousing.

Or quietly watching porn on your phone, locked in the bathroom, wondering what does gege like- what would he do to you. Was his cock bigger than the ones you’ve seen in cheap porns? Would he stuff your throat roughly even if you cried and tapped on his thigh for mercy? Or would he finger you until your legs shaked and you squirted- could you even do that?

Last time my ass.

It all rises to the surface too quickly. Your head, once buried in his pillow- and scent-, snaps back up to look back at him. “What if i mess up though?” And to your pouty lips and meek voice, Caleb has to hold back so his eyes don’t roll to the back of his skull.

“Gege will teach you, then.”

Your brain doesn’t register what comes next, foggy with need you didn’t know was so bad. The wheels on his office chair glide quickly on the floor and in a second, he pulls you to his lap.

He knows he should be subtle about it, grandma is just a bedroom away from grounding them forever, but it feels so right- and you don’t fight it. So, if there were any lines Caleb ever crossed, it’s okay because you did the same, no? It’s not so bad.

You get shaky when you’re embarrassed. He knows that. The way your figure trembles like a leaf on his lap makes his head spin, his only wish is that you don’t notice how hard he is under you. Trying to keep his composure, he licks his lips.

“We can start slow, m'kay? You trust gege, don’t you baby apple?” He coos, looking at you through his lashes and blinking innocently, his lilac eyes hiding danger behind his puppy-like behavior.

At your little childish nod and flushed cheeks, Caleb groans but continues, leaning closer to your face. “Can i, baby?” The hair on your nape stands up at the feeling of his hot breath so close to your face. Your lips part in a failed attempt to say something. Embarrassed, your hands, once clawing at your thighs’ skin nervously, cover your face shyly.

He pouts. “Oh no, baby… no hiding. ‘S just gege, baby apple. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I know everything ‘bout you already, don’t i, baby? Relax.” Caleb reassures softly, holding your wrists down with his hands so he can look at your distressed face.

Finally, you nod along to his first request. Caleb’s vision goes white.

Letting your wrists go, his hand slithers to the back of your neck, holding your head in place while the other rests on your waist, pressing your clothed core down on his boner. He grunts before finally pressing a gentle peck to your soft lips to see your reaction.

You lean in closer, hands turning into fists and holding onto his shirt, eyes fluttering close to avoid more embarrassment. You do the same, mimicking his movements and sealing his lips with a shy kiss.

Caleb smiles proudly against your lips, tilting his head to give a kiss to the corner of your lips and blow raspberries on your pink cheeks, igniting a girlish giggle from you. Sweet praises drip from his tongue with care and need, making your body grow hotter. “See pips? Nothing intimidating. Y’er doing so good, baby apple, can we go further?”

You peek through your fluttering lashes and there they are again, his lilac eyes look a little darker now but stare at you with the same need and want from before. “Please.’’

His lips meet yours again in a hungry kiss. A little surprised moan escaping your mouth is all he needs to swipe his tongue on your bottom lip before nibbling on it teasingly. His hips twitch up like a horny teen desperate for contact and all you can do is reciprocate with the same feeling, humping your clothed pussy on the tent in his sweats.

Your still shaky hands snake from his chest to his face, clinging to it as if you were afraid that if you let go, he’s going to slip away through your fingers and vanish forever. Meanwhile, his own hand, once on your waist holding you in place, slithers under your pajama top to feel your skin.

Caleb is grateful that your eyes are closed and can’t see how his purple hues roll back at any small touch. To finally feel you, be engulfed in your smell, to hear your awkward whines of embarrassment… He feels pathetic. He knows he should stick to the cool “older” figure a little longer but his mind is just so foggy with the thought of having you even if just for a moment.

You pulling away for air makes him whine, the stronger hand in your nape pushing your face closer to his for another kiss. This time, his tongue finally meets yours, provoking a moan to escape your lips for the nth time.

It’s messy, of course, but he doesn’t care. He can practice with you all day long if that’s what you wish. You shoot your best shot, sucking on his tongue unsurely but still trying to match his pace.

“Mgh- good girl, baby. Doing s’good f’me-” Caleb praises out of air, his lips never far from yours.

“C-caleb!-” You stutter and pant as the hand under your top squeezes your boob, the fat fitting just right under his big palm. You squeal at the moment he pinches your nipple, the sensation new, but not bad.

“Gege, baby apple. No Caleb, m'kay? Miss you calling me that.” He tuts and gives you a last, affectionate peck before rising from the chair none of you noticed squeaking under so much weight and movement.

Instinctively clinging to his torso as he walks around the hot room, Caleb plops you on his bed. You trust Caleb enough to not bother to open your eyes but curiosity bubbles inside you when you don’t feel his weight on the mattress beside you.

Caleb kneels down on the floor, pulling your legs just a little closer to the edge of the bed and parting them. A smile blooms in his face. He takes notes to buy you more of these stupidly tiny shorts. Your pussy, drenched enough to stain not only your frilly, pink panties but also the fabric of your pj’s, stares back at him, he swears his mouth waters at the sight.

“Baby, can gege show you something else? But promise you’ll stay quiet f’me.”

Caleb wasn’t sure when but he was sure that he crossed a line he shouldn’t have. And that his hots for you weren’t just a boyish hunger.

uhm is this anything...

#.littleapplle's pastries #caleb x reader #xia yizhou #caleb x you #lads x reader #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #caleb xia #caleb x mc #lads caleb #caleb smut #lads smut

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honourablejester · 5 months ago

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I’m watching bit compilations of the Fantasy High campaign(s) for Dimension 20 at the minute, and I’m watching one for Junior Year ep 16, and I love …

There’s a bit where some of Kipperlilly’s motivations for hating the party are revealed, and it’s revealed that she’s jealous that Riz’s father was killed, because she wants a cool and tragic backstory and thinks that her lack of it has kept her back at the adventuring academy while they had an advantage. And Siobhan, as Adaine, without batting an eye:

“And her response to that was to be mad at us, and not to kill her parents?”

To which the others respond … Okay, Adaine, that’s the sociopath test! And just general slightly spooked humour.

And I just love that … You can really see the girl who on her first day at school had a fight break out on top of her and wound up killing a lunch lady with a ladle. You can see the girl who did have to kill her abusive father after he casually murdered her sister. This is all coming from trauma, but she puts such a casual … Like, girl, get with the program on it. There’s such disdain for Kipperlilly whining about it instead of actually doing something.

I love that it is genuinely mostly a joke, she’s not seriously advocating for murder here, but it also does say quite a bit about Adaine. About her trauma and her pragmatism and her lingering perfectionism and her rather enforced nonchalance about the potential necessity of parent murder and her distinct attitude that if a problem presents itself, then you fix it, doing whatever you have to do in the process.

There’s just a sense that, you know, if Kipperlilly has decided to be evil and has decided that she’s fine with killing people, which we have proof she has, why is she not going with the logical solution to her problem? If you have decided that you’re fine with murdering people and that morality is no longer a stumbling block, why are you not doing the most efficient thing to solve your stated problem? If you’re going to be evil, be better at it.

Adaine would be an absolutely terrifying bad guy. And also probably needs more counselling.

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #adaine abernant #fantasy high junior year #spoilers #i think adaine and riz are my favourites

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urdreamydoodles · 4 months ago

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MARVEL COMICS CHARACTERS X FEM!READER

You kiss them when they least expect it

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor, Loki, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Matthew Murdock, Frank Castle, Bullseye, Marc Spector, Taskmaster, Johnny Storm, Reed Richards, Ben Grimm, Susan Storm, Felicia Hardy, Stephen Strange, Namor, Johnny Blaze, Eddie Brock / Venom, T'Challa, Elektra Natchios, Muse, Victor von Doom, Peter Quill & Nova

Reply to anon: As promised...your little Catholic boy. I spend my days writing to keep my mind off my surgery. I'm a really anxious person, so I have to fill my head with my pleasures (my fandoms). So the requests will come out quickly, I'm happy and you're happy... win win. Thank you for all your requests and support. LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH ♡

Peter Parker

- Peter Parker has been kissed before. He has known the warmth of affection, the giddy rush of young love, the slow ache of something deeper. But nothing—nothing—could have prepared him for the moment your lips press against his, sudden and unannounced, shattering the rhythm of his thoughts like a lightning strike in the middle of a quiet night. His brain short-circuits instantly.

- His body reacts before his mind does, his breath catching, fingers twitching as if unsure whether to hold you or simply let himself drown in the moment. There is a fleeting second of hesitation, a half-formed thought that this must be some kind of dream, some cruel trick played by the universe. But your warmth is real, your presence undeniable. The city fades around him, the constant hum of responsibility momentarily silenced beneath the press of your lips.

- When you finally pull away, Peter blinks—once, twice—like he’s trying to process what just happened. Then, without warning, his face erupts into a deep crimson flush, spreading down to his neck like wildfire. “Oh,” he breathes out, voice slightly strangled. “Okay. Cool. That was… um. Wow.” He rubs the back of his neck, a nervous chuckle escaping him. “Was that, like, a scientific experiment? Because if so, I volunteer for more data collection.”

- Despite the awkward attempt at humor, his hands are still trembling, his pupils blown wide with something raw and unspoken. And then, after a moment of hesitation, his fingers curl around yours, his grip steady despite the lingering nerves. “But, uh… just so we’re clear,” he murmurs, voice softer now, more certain, “if you ever wanna do that again, you won’t have to catch me off guard next time.”

Tony Stark

- Tony Stark has spent a lifetime mastering control. He anticipates every possible scenario, every variable, every consequence. His mind is a constant whirlwind of calculations, solutions, contingencies. But when you kiss him—when you seize the moment and steal his breath away with no warning, no preamble—his mind goes completely, utterly blank. For the first time in years, there is no plan. No exit strategy. Just you.

- His body reacts on instinct, hands coming up to grasp your waist, a sharp inhale against your lips. But it’s not just the physical contact that undoes him—it’s the fact that you did it at all. That you, beautiful and untouchable in a way he never dared to hope for, have chosen him in this moment, with no ulterior motive, no expectation. It is not a conquest. It is not a game. It is real. And Tony Stark has never known how to handle real.

- When you finally break away, his lips are still parted, his usually sharp tongue momentarily silenced. Then, ever so slowly, a grin tugs at the corners of his mouth, something dangerous and delighted and entirely Tony. “Well, well,” he muses, his voice a low hum. “That was unexpected. Not that I’m complaining, of course.” He tilts his head, eyes gleaming with mischief. “But, uh, you might wanna be careful, sweetheart. You kiss me like that, and I might just start thinking you like me.”

- And yet, beneath the bravado, there is something softer, something unspoken in the way his fingers linger against your skin, in the way his expression shifts—just for a fraction of a second—into something almost reverent. Because the truth is, he is already lost. And if you kissed him again, he wouldn’t just let you—he’d make damn sure you never stopped.

Steve Rogers

- Steve Rogers is used to the world moving too fast around him. Time slips through his fingers like sand, people come and go like ghosts, and every moment is a reminder of just how much he has lost. But when you kiss him—when you break through the steady, predictable rhythm of his days with something as sudden and undeniable as your lips against his—it is the first time in a long, long while that he feels truly, absolutely present.

- He freezes at first, caught between instinct and shock, but it lasts only a second. Then, without thinking, his hands find your waist, steadying you both as though the moment itself is something fragile, something sacred. His heart is hammering against his ribs, a deep, resounding drumbeat that he swears you must be able to hear. And when he finally exhales, it is not out of hesitation—but out of something else. Something like surrender.

- When you pull back, his blue eyes are searching, tracing your face with an intensity that makes your breath hitch. He doesn’t speak at first, doesn’t joke or tease or stumble over his words. Instead, he simply watches you, memorizing every detail of the moment, committing it to memory as if he is afraid it will slip away. And then, at last, he lets out a quiet, almost incredulous chuckle. “You really do like keeping me on my toes, don’t you?”

- But there is warmth in his voice, something gentle and unshaken. And then, after a moment, he does something you don’t expect—he leans in again, slower this time, deliberate. His lips brush against yours, and this time, he is the one who takes control. And when he pulls away, his hand lingers at the back of your neck, his thumb tracing slow, absentminded patterns against your skin. “Just so you know,” he murmurs, a small smile playing at his lips, “next time, I won’t let you take me by surprise.”

Thor

- Thor Odinson has been kissed before. He has known the passion of warriors, the devotion of gods, the fleeting tenderness of mortals who looked upon him with awe. And yet, when you kiss him—when you press your lips against his without hesitation, without prelude—it is not reverence that he feels, nor expectation. It is something deeper, something that sinks into his very bones. It is you.

- There is a moment of stillness, as if the entire world holds its breath. Then, with a deep, rumbling exhale, he reacts—not with hesitation, not with shock, but with the full force of a man who has never done anything by halves. His arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against him, his grip firm yet careful, as if you are something both fierce and fragile, something he is terrified of losing.

- When you pull back, he does not release you immediately. His forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your skin, and for a moment, he simply exists in the aftermath of what you have done. Then, with a slow, wolfish grin, he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes bright with something unmistakably pleased. “Ah,” he rumbles, his voice thick with amusement, “so the battle has begun, then?”

- And before you can question him, before you can even think, he leans in once more—this time with purpose, with certainty. His lips claim yours in a way that is both a challenge and an offering, a promise and a declaration. And when he finally pulls away, his fingers trail down your spine, his grip unwavering. “A warning, my beloved,” he murmurs, eyes gleaming. “You have started something you may not wish to finish.” But the way he holds you—the way his touch lingers, possessive and warm—tells you that, in truth, he is hoping you never do.

Loki

- Loki is a creature of calculation, of control wrapped in silver-tongued deception. He reads people like poetry, anticipates betrayals before they are spoken, dissects affections before they can wound him. But when your lips find his—without warning, without preamble—it is the first time in centuries that someone has truly caught him off guard. His breath halts, body rigid, as if the universe itself has shifted beneath him.

- He does not pull away. He does not return it immediately, either. Instead, he remains perfectly still, sharp eyes searching yours with an intensity that borders on dangerous. You can almost hear the gears turning in his mind, the war between disbelief and hunger, between skepticism and the undeniable thrill of being wanted without agenda. And then, ever so slowly, the corner of his mouth curls, something dark and pleased blooming in his expression. “Interesting,” he muses, voice velvet-smooth, though there is an unmistakable edge of breathlessness beneath it.

- When you move to step back, he does not allow it. A hand—cool, firm, deceptively gentle—curls around your wrist, anchoring you in place. “You think you can best me in my own game, little one?” he murmurs, amusement dripping from every syllable. “That you can steal a kiss and escape unscathed?” His voice is teasing, but there is something else beneath it—something raw, something aching, something that trembles on the edge of longing.

- And then, with a slow, deliberate certainty, he leans in once more. This time, there is no hesitation, no caution. His lips claim yours in a way that is both challenge and surrender, fire and ice melting together in something neither of you can quite name. And when he finally pulls away, his thumb traces the edge of your jaw, his smirk lazy yet predatory. “You are playing a dangerous game, darling,” he whispers. “And I do hope you intend to see it through.”

Clint Barton

- Clint Barton has been trained to anticipate the unexpected. He is a man who survives on instinct, who sees what others miss, who never lets his guard down—not truly. But when you kiss him, when you press your lips against his without warning, without prelude, it is the first time in years that someone has managed to slip past his defenses. And it floors him.

- His breath stutters, muscles tensing as if expecting some kind of punchline, some cruel joke at his expense. But then—then—your hands brush against his jaw, gentle, grounding, real. And suddenly, the world feels quieter. The weight of it all—the missions, the past, the scars that never quite fade—momentarily lifts, leaving nothing but the steady, warm press of your mouth against his. And for once, he lets himself sink into it.

- When you finally pull away, he blinks as if shaking off a haze, lips parted in something like disbelief. And then, ever so slowly, a grin spreads across his face—lazy, crooked, entirely Clint. “Well, damn,” he breathes out, a chuckle escaping him. “Gonna be honest, didn’t see that one coming.” He tilts his head, eyes alight with mischief. “You always go around ambushing guys like this, or am I just special?”

- But there is something softer beneath the teasing, something unspoken in the way his fingers linger near yours, as if debating whether to pull you back in. And then, with a quiet exhale, he murmurs, “Not that I’m complaining, but—maybe next time, give a guy some warning?” He smirks. “Or don’t. I kinda like the element of surprise.”

Natasha Romanoff

- Natasha Romanoff is not a woman who is easily caught off guard. She is control, precision, danger wrapped in elegance. She anticipates every move before it happens, never allows herself to be vulnerable, never lets anyone too close. But when you kiss her—without warning, without calculation—it is the one scenario she never saw coming.

- Her body tenses immediately, years of instinct screaming at her to assess the threat, to react. But then—then—your lips linger, warm and unhurried, and something in her falters. There is no ulterior motive, no expectation, no game being played. Just you. And that, more than anything, leaves her shaken. She does not kiss you back, not at first. She is too busy deciphering why—why you would do this, why she doesn’t hate it, why the world suddenly feels too small with you this close.

- When you pull away, she does not speak. Instead, she tilts her head, studying you with an unreadable expression, emerald eyes scanning your face as if searching for an answer you have not yet spoken. And then, at last, a small smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. “Brave,” she murmurs, voice smooth, almost amused. “Reckless, but brave.” But there is something else in her gaze—something uncertain, something hesitant. As if she is not quite sure what to do with the warmth still lingering on her lips.

- Then, before you can respond, she steps closer, closing the space between you. There is no hesitation this time, no calculation—just the slow, deliberate press of her mouth against yours. And when she finally pulls away, her voice is softer, quieter. “Don’t do that unless you mean it,” she warns. But the way her fingers trail against your wrist, the way her breath lingers against your skin, tells you that she is hoping—just this once—that you do.

Bucky Barnes

- Bucky Barnes is a man who flinches at softness. He does not know how to accept kindness without suspicion, does not know how to be wanted without expectation. He has spent years being used, being controlled, being nothing more than a weapon to be wielded. But when you kiss him—when you press your lips against his without warning—it is the first time in a long, long while that he is simply Bucky.

- His entire body stiffens at first, muscles coiled as if expecting an attack, a trap, a trick. But then your hands brush against him—gentle, grounding, real—and something in him cracks. His breath shudders against your lips, something raw and unspoken trembling just beneath the surface. And for the first time in years, he allows himself to be held instead of holding himself together.

- When you pull away, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. His expression is unreadable, blue eyes stormy with something you can’t quite decipher. And then, ever so slowly, he exhales. “Why?” The word is quiet, hesitant, as if he doesn’t believe he deserves the answer. As if he is bracing himself for you to tell him it was a mistake. But you don’t. You just look at him, and that alone is enough to undo him.

- And then, after a long moment, his fingers brush against yours, tentative, uncertain. “Do it again,” he murmurs, the words barely audible. But when you do—when you kiss him once more, slow and patient and real—his hands finally come up to hold you, steady and warm and home. And this time, he doesn’t let you pull away.

Matthew Murdock

- Matthew Murdock is a man who lives in anticipation. Every breath, every footstep, every heartbeat in his vicinity is accounted for, cataloged, expected. He senses things before they happen, navigates the unseen with the certainty of someone who has never truly been blind. But he does not sense this. The moment your lips press against his, his world—usually so finely attuned—stutters. For the first time in a long time, Matt is truly caught off guard.

- His breath hitches, his fingers twitch at his sides, and for a brief moment, he is frozen in place. The taste of you lingers—warmth and surprise and something maddeningly sweet. His senses flood with you, and it is overwhelming in the best and worst way. His pulse is erratic, his mind a mess of tangled thoughts. He has fought the devil inside himself for so long, denied himself softness, pushed away love because it only ever ends in ruin. And yet, here you are. Kissing him.

- When you pull back, he exhales shakily, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words come. Instead, his hand finds you—fingertips ghosting over your cheek, as if to make certain you are real. His voice, when he finally manages to use it, is quiet, reverent. “You shouldn’t do things like that,” he murmurs, but there is no conviction in his words, no true protest. Only the lingering tremor of someone who wants—desperately, deeply—but does not know if he is allowed to have.

- And then, as if unable to resist the temptation you have placed before him, he leans in. His kiss is not hasty, not fevered, but something far more dangerous—slow, deliberate, inevitable. It is an unspoken confession, a quiet surrender, a promise that he may not be ready to put into words. But his hands find your waist, his lips press deeper into yours, and the way he sighs against your mouth tells you all you need to know.

Frank Castle

- Frank Castle has lost too much to believe in second chances. Love is a thing he buried alongside his family, a thing he does not touch, does not deserve. He is a man made of violence, of war and grief and cold, unrelenting vengeance. He does not get soft things. So when you kiss him—when you, in all your warmth, in all your reckless beauty, dare to press your lips to his—he does not know what to do with it.

- His entire body goes still, as if the world has caught fire and he is standing in the center of the blaze, unscathed but bewildered. He does not pull away. He does not push you back. He simply exists in the moment, feeling something that is not rage, not pain, not the gnawing emptiness that has been his only companion for years. The taste of you lingers—something achingly sweet against the bitterness of his own existence.

- When you finally step back, he exhales sharply, his breath uneven, his jaw clenched. His eyes—dark, stormy, battle-hardened—lock onto yours, searching, questioning. He wants to tell you this is a mistake. That people who get close to him only end up hurt, that his hands are meant for killing, not holding. But he doesn’t say it. Because for the first time in a long, long time, he does not want to push something away.

- Instead, his fingers curl at his sides, his voice low, rough. “You sure you wanna be doin’ that?” It’s not a warning—it’s an invitation. A chance to walk away before he inevitably ruins you the way he ruins everything else. But when you don’t—when you meet his gaze and kiss him again, slower this time, softer—his resolve cracks, and he kisses you back with something that is almost desperate, almost alive.

Bullseye (Lester)

- Bullseye is used to taking. He takes lives, takes power, takes anything he wants because no one can stop him. He is a monster, and he knows it—embraces it. There is nothing good in him. Nothing worth saving. And yet, you—beautiful, foolish, unafraid—have the audacity to kiss him as if he is anything but ruin incarnate.

- The moment your lips meet his, something snaps in him. His instincts scream at him to turn this into a game, to take control, to make you regret ever thinking you could surprise him. But for once, he does not move. He lets himself feel it. The warmth of you, the softness, the maddening contrast of something so pure against the corruption that coats his soul like tar. It is unexpected, undeserved, and utterly intoxicating.

- When you pull away, his smirk is slow, sharp-edged, dangerous. His eyes—dark and gleaming with something predatory—drag over your face like he’s memorizing every detail, committing your recklessness to memory. “Well, damn,” he drawls, voice slick with amusement. “Didn’t know you had it in you, sweetheart.” His fingers ghost over his lips as if testing whether the sensation was real or just some twisted hallucination.

- And then, with a sudden, startling speed, he moves. One hand grips the back of your neck, the other pressing against your waist, and before you can react, he’s kissing you back. But this—this is something else entirely. It is wild, chaotic, consuming. A warning, a promise, a claim. And when he finally pulls away, grinning like the devil himself, he murmurs, “Hope you know what you just started.”

Marc Spector

- Marc Spector is used to ghosts. His past, his mistakes, his fractured mind—he carries them all like shadows that never fade. He does not trust happiness, does not trust peace, because both have been ripped from him too many times to count. And love? Love is not something that belongs to men like him. But then there is you. And then there is this. Your lips against his, unannounced, unexpected, real.

- The first sensation is shock. Not fear, not rejection—just shock. His mind, always a battlefield of shifting identities and whispered voices, goes silent for one aching, beautiful moment. The warmth of your mouth, the way you lean into him with no hesitation, no fear—it is something foreign, something he does not know how to hold. And yet, he wants to. God help him, he wants to.

- When you pull back, his breath is unsteady, his hands curled into fists at his sides as if fighting the urge to pull you back in. His eyes—haunted, desperate, yearning—flicker between you and the ground, as if struggling to find something solid to anchor himself. “You shouldn’t…” His voice is raw, broken. “You shouldn’t do that.” But there is no weight behind the words, no real protest. Just the quiet, trembling confession of a man who does not believe he deserves to be touched with kindness.

- And then, with a slow exhale, he makes a choice. His hand—scarred, trembling—reaches for yours, fingers brushing tentatively before curling around them. He does not pull you close, does not claim you the way others might. Instead, he simply holds on. A silent plea, a fragile hope. And when he finally kisses you back, it is not with hunger, not with dominance—but with something far more dangerous. Need.

Taskmaster (Tony Masters)

- Taskmaster survives by reading people before they can act. He sees a shift in weight, a flicker of intent, the smallest twitch of a muscle, and he knows what comes next. It’s how he wins fights, how he predicts every move before it happens. But not this. Not you. He doesn’t see it coming when your lips press against his, a ghost of warmth against the cold edge of a man who has spent his life being untouchable.

- His entire body stiffens, instincts roaring at him to react, to counter, to do something—but he doesn’t. His mind, trained to memorize, analyze, replicate, suddenly falters. He can mimic a thousand fighting styles, anticipate attacks from the best in the world, but he has no defense for the softness of your mouth, the way you kiss him like he is something more than a weapon. And it unsettles him.

- When you pull back, his hands twitch at his sides, fingers flexing as if searching for the right response. His mask hides his face, but you can feel the way he’s staring at you, the sharp intensity of a man trying to process something he can’t categorize. “The hell was that for?” he finally mutters, his voice low, rough—gravel scraped over steel. But there is no anger, no mockery. Just a quiet, dangerous curiosity.

- And then, something shifts. A decision made. He moves faster than thought, a gloved hand catching your wrist, pulling you in before you can slip away. And when he kisses you back, it is not soft, not hesitant. It is sharp-edged and confident, like a man reclaiming control over the one thing that has ever caught him off guard. You wanted to surprise him? Fine. But now, he’s the one in charge.

Johnny Storm

- Johnny Storm burns hot—always has, always will. A fire that never quite settles, never dims. He is loud and reckless and bright, and he wears his confidence like a second skin. But beneath it all, there is something deeper, something hidden behind smirks and easy laughter. And it is that something that flickers the moment you kiss him.

- At first, he doesn’t process it. One second he’s talking, maybe making some cocky remark, and the next—your lips are on his. His brain short-circuits. Johnny Storm, king of comebacks, has absolutely nothing to say. There’s just heat, not from his flames but from the rush of you, the sudden realization that this thing he’s been pretending not to feel is very, very real.

- When you pull back, he blinks—once, twice—before a slow, almost disbelieving grin spreads across his face. “Damn,” he exhales, voice a little breathless, a little stunned. And then, because he is who he is, he recovers. “If you wanted a piece of me, sweetheart, all you had to do was ask.” But his voice wavers slightly at the end, betraying the fact that he is not nearly as unaffected as he wants to seem.

- And then, before you can say anything, he moves. A hand curling around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he crashes his lips back to yours, kissing you with the full force of his fire—burning, consuming, alive. Because Johnny Storm never does anything halfway, and now that he knows what you taste like, he is never going to pretend he doesn’t want more.

Reed Richards

- Reed Richards lives in a world of equations. He understands the mechanics of the universe, the fabric of reality, the infinite complexities of time and space. But there are some things even he cannot predict. Some things he cannot quantify. You are one of those things. And when you kiss him, it is a complete and utter anomaly.

- His breath stills, his mind goes blank—something that has not happened in years. He can usually calculate the likelihood of an event before it occurs, but this? This wasn’t factored into his reality. His hands hover in the air, as if unsure of the proper response, as if the laws of physics themselves have momentarily escaped him.

- When you step back, he does not move immediately. He is frozen, recalibrating, processing. Then, slowly, his lips part, and a quiet, stunned “Oh” escapes him—soft, unguarded. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, as if needing a moment to refocus. “That was… unexpected.” His voice holds no rejection, only fascination, as if he has just witnessed a scientific miracle.

- And then, something shifts. His hand reaches for yours—not hasty, not desperate, but careful, deliberate. His eyes meet yours, and for the first time in a long while, Reed Richards abandons calculations in favor of instinct. When he kisses you again, it is slow, exploratory, like a man learning a new language and savoring every syllable.

Ben Grimm

- Ben Grimm does not get soft things. He does not get stolen kisses or tender touches or the kind of love that isn’t weighed down by pity. He is The Thing. A man made of stone, of battle and loss, of aching loneliness that he never speaks of. And yet, here you are. Kissing him. As if he is not a monster. As if he is just a man.

- He stiffens, his whole body locking up. His heart—too big, too hopeful despite everything—stumbles in his chest. He has dreamed of things like this before, but dreams are cruel, and reality is harsher. He expects you to pull away, to realize what you’ve done, to see him and regret it. But you don’t. You don’t. And that, more than the kiss itself, threatens to undo him.

- When you finally step back, his throat works around words he can’t quite form, holding the weight of years spent convincing himself he doesn’t get to have this. His massive hands twitch at his sides, as if afraid to reach for something too fragile, too precious. “You… you sure about that?” There is doubt in his tone, not because he doesn’t want you, but because he doesn’t know how to believe you’d want him.

- But when you step closer again, pressing your hands against the solid breadth of his chest, when you tilt your head up and kiss him again, slow and sure and certain, something in him cracks. A deep, shuddering breath escapes him, and his massive arms finally—finally—come around you, pulling you close. And when he kisses you back, it is hesitant at first, reverent. But then it deepens, something raw and aching in the way he holds you, like a man who has been starved of love for far too long.

Susan Storm

- Susan Storm is a woman of grace, of careful composure, of quiet strength that bends but never breaks. She is a leader, a protector, a force of nature wrapped in silk. And yet, for all her brilliance, for all her ability to phase in and out of sight, she does not see you coming. Not when you step close. Not when your fingers graze her cheek. Not when your lips press against hers in a kiss that is as sudden as it is soft.

- Her breath stills, caught between the moment and the impossible realization of what it means. Her mind races—was she blind to this? Had she misread the signs, the weight of your glances, the unspoken words hovering between you for so long? But all thoughts unravel when she feels the warmth of your lips, the unguarded tenderness of it. She has spent her life holding herself steady, but now—now she is the one being unraveled.

- When you finally pull back, she blinks, slow and breathless, a flush creeping up her neck. “Oh,” she murmurs, a small, almost disbelieving smile tugging at the corner of her lips. A rare moment where she is not Susan Storm, the poised and polished heroine, but simply a woman standing before someone who has just shaken her world.

- And then, that moment of surprise shifts into something else—something warmer, something braver. Her fingers find your wrist, curling around it in a silent request. She meets your gaze, eyes shining with something unreadable, something soft. And when she kisses you again, it is no longer hesitation, no longer surprise—it is intention, steady and sure, as if she has made up her mind that this—you—is something she does not want to let go.

Felicia Hardy

- Felicia Hardy is a woman who dances on the edge of danger, who thrives in stolen moments and the rush of risk. She is a thief, a phantom in the night, a creature made of silver laughter and sharp edges. She knows the art of seduction, the game of push and pull, and yet—when you kiss her, it is not part of the game. It is not calculated, not played for leverage. And that is what stops her dead in her tracks.

- Her lips part against yours, a stunned exhale slipping free. For the first time in a long, long time, Felicia Hardy is caught off guard. She is used to controlling the moment, to being the one who sets the pace, who dictates the terms. But this—this—feels like something stolen from her. And she doesn’t know if she wants to steal it back, or if she wants to let herself fall.

- When you pull away, her signature smirk wavers, something uncertain flickering behind those sharp, clever eyes. “Well, well,” she purrs, but there’s a breathlessness to it, a vulnerability beneath the velvet tone. “Didn’t know you had it in you.” A tease, a cover. But her fingers twitch at her sides, as if resisting the urge to reach for you, to pull you back in, to demand more.

- And then, as if making a silent decision, she moves. She closes the space between you with a sharp, deliberate kind of grace, tilting her head with the confidence of a woman who has decided to play a game she was not expecting—but one she suddenly wants to win. When she kisses you again, it is slow, languid, laced with amusement and hunger, as if savoring the way you are the one who caught her off guard for once.

Stephen Strange

- Stephen Strange is a man of logic, of precision, of control honed by years of discipline. He bends reality to his will, commands forces beyond human comprehension, and yet—he is utterly unprepared for the moment your lips press against his.

- His body locks up, his breath caught between disbelief and something deeper, something dangerously close to longing. He does not move at first, too caught in the sheer absurdity of it. He has faced cosmic horrors, rewritten fate itself, but he cannot seem to process the feeling of your touch, the warmth of your mouth against his own.

- When you step back, he blinks, slow and calculating, as if searching for some rational explanation. “That was… unexpected,” he says at last, his voice measured but carrying the faintest waver. He looks at you as though you are a paradox he cannot solve, an anomaly in his carefully structured existence.

- And then, after a long pause, his lips curl in something resembling amusement, a rare, genuine softness breaking through the rigid control. “I suppose,” he murmurs, stepping closer, voice dropping to something almost dangerous, almost reverent, “it would only be fair if I returned the favor.” And when he kisses you again, it is with the deliberation of a man who refuses to leave anything to chance.

Namor

- Namor is not a man accustomed to surprise. He is a king, a warrior, a god walking among mortals. He has stood against empires, defied the heavens, and shaped history with his own hands. But when you kiss him—you, with your infuriating defiance and your breathtaking boldness—he is, for the first time in centuries, at a complete and utter loss.

- His entire body tenses, as if bracing for an attack rather than an act of tenderness. And yet, despite his initial shock, despite the sheer audacity of you, he does not pull away. He does not stop you. Instead, his sharp, piercing eyes darken, a slow and simmering heat curling beneath his ribs—dangerous, unrelenting.

- When you finally part, he does not speak immediately. He simply looks at you, gaze heavy with something unreadable. And then, after a moment, his lips curl—not in anger, but in something far more unsettling. Amusement. Interest. Challenge. “You are either very brave,” he murmurs, voice rich and edged with something unmistakably possessive, “or very foolish.”

- And then, before you can respond, before you can think to retreat, he moves. His hands—strong, unyielding—catch your wrist, his body closing the space between you with the effortless command of a king reclaiming what is his. And when he kisses you again, it is not a question. It is a declaration, a silent vow that whatever game you have started, he will be the one to finish.

Johnny Blaze

- Fire and damnation have clung to Johnny Blaze for as long as he can remember. He is a man marked by hellfire, by a fate he never asked for, by the weight of every soul he has ever sent screaming into the dark. He does not expect kindness, not really, not from anyone. And yet, when you kiss him—suddenly, without warning, like a spark catching dry earth—he is stunned into absolute stillness.

- The scent of smoke and leather clings to him, the remnants of something infernal lurking beneath his skin, but you do not hesitate. Your lips are warm, soft, a stark contrast to the cold edges of his existence. He has faced demons, outrun the devil himself, but this? This simple, quiet moment? It terrifies him in a way nothing else ever has.

- He exhales sharply when you pull back, as if he’s just come up for air after drowning. His blue eyes burn like embers, searching your face as if trying to understand what the hell just happened. His throat works around words he doesn’t know how to say, his fingers twitching at his sides like he wants to reach for you but doesn’t trust himself to. “You don’t wanna do that,” he finally mutters, voice rough with something dangerously close to longing.

- But when you tilt your head, when you don’t flinch, don’t pull away, don’t fear him—something in him cracks. His jaw clenches, his hands curl into fists, and then, finally, finally, he lets himself move. He grabs the back of your neck with a touch that is both possessive and reverent, and when he kisses you again, it is with the desperation of a man who has spent too many years in the dark, suddenly blinded by the light.

Eddie Brock / Venom

- Eddie Brock is a man who has lost too much, fought too hard, and learned to trust too little. He is rough around the edges, worn down by anger and regret, always bracing for the moment when the world inevitably turns against him. He is not used to gentleness—not from others, and certainly not for himself. And so, when you kiss him, when you press your lips against his like it is the most natural thing in the world, his brain short-circuits entirely.

- His first instinct is to pull back, to question, to doubt. But Venom—Venom is faster. The symbiote rumbles in amusement, in approval, wrapping around Eddie’s ribs like a second heartbeat. "We like this one," the alien purrs inside his mind, and Eddie swears under his breath because of course Venom would be delighted by this.

- “You’re—” Eddie starts, but stops himself, dragging a hand down his face like he’s trying to physically shove down the confusion. He shakes his head, glancing at you with something that is half bewilderment, half hunger. He wants to say something cocky, something to brush it off, but all that comes out is a breathless, “What the hell was that for?”

- And then Venom moves, slick tendrils curling around his shoulders, shifting his posture. "Kiss her back, Eddie," the symbiote urges, a wicked, knowing grin in his voice. And—God help him—Eddie does. He surges forward, his grip strong, his kiss a mixture of frustration and want, like he’s fighting against how much he needs this, how much he needs you. And when he finally breaks away, his breath is ragged, his pupils blown wide. Shit.

T’Challa

- T’Challa is not a man who is easily surprised. He is a king, a warrior, a strategist who sees every angle before the game even begins. His mind is always ten steps ahead, his composure an unshakable force of nature. And yet—when you kiss him, when you step close without prelude or warning, tilting your chin up to press your lips to his—he is caught entirely off guard.

- His breath hitches, just slightly, so small a reaction that most would not catch it. But you are not most. You are you, and you notice the way his body stills, the way his fingers twitch at his sides as if warring with the impulse to pull you closer. His heartbeat is steady, measured, but beneath the surface—oh, beneath the surface, you have sent ripples through a man who does not bend easily.

- When you part from him, his dark eyes study your face with a sharpness that borders on unreadable. “You are bold,” he says, but there is no admonishment in his tone—only observation, only something deeply considering. His gaze is heavy, knowing, like he has already unraveled every reason why you did it. And yet, for all his brilliance, there is one question left unanswered.

- And so, after a pause, he tilts his head ever so slightly, a slow, deliberate movement. “Was that a challenge?” The words are a whisper, rich and silken, spoken against your lips as he closes the space between you once more. His kiss is not hurried, not desperate—it is a promise, a declaration, a reminder that T’Challa does nothing without intention. And you? You have just become something he intends to keep.

Elektra Natchios

- Elektra moves like a shadow, like a blade cutting through the dark, like something that cannot be held for long. She is sharp edges and silken danger, a whisper of death wrapped in a dancer’s grace. She does not trust easily. She does not love easily. And yet, when you kiss her—fast, sudden, without warning—she does not push you away. No. She freezes, her entire body tensed, not out of resistance, but because she did not see it coming.

- For a woman who has spent her life reading people like open books, you have just managed to turn a page she did not anticipate. Her lips part against yours, not in invitation but in sheer, startled stillness. The moment you step back, her gaze is already piercing into you, unreadable and electric, the air between you charged with something taut and dangerous.

- “That,” she breathes, eyes narrowing just slightly, “was foolish.” But the way she says it—it is not a warning, not truly. It is curiosity, the ghost of something far more wicked lurking beneath the surface. She watches you like a cat watching its prey, her fingers twitching at her sides, as if deciding whether to draw a weapon or pull you back in.

- And then, just as quickly, just as effortlessly, she moves. Her hand catches your wrist, yanking you forward with a force that is not violent but possessive. And when she kisses you this time, it is not hesitation—it is fire and fury, a battle won with the curl of her fingers at your nape, the press of her body against yours. If this is a game, you have just signed yourself into a war. And Elektra Natchios? She never loses.

Muse

- Muse does not feel things the way others do. Art consumes him, violence is his language, and the world is nothing but a blank canvas begging to be marred. He has wandered through blood-soaked streets and carved poetry into walls with trembling hands, but this—this sudden kiss, this moment where your lips press against his without prelude or warning—is something entirely new.

- He does not flinch. He does not gasp. He does not react in any way that might be considered human. Instead, he listens. To the way your breath hitches. To the way your heartbeat stumbles in your chest. To the way the world stills around him, just for a moment, like existence itself is waiting to see what he will do next. And oh, how he loves the weight of expectation.

- When you finally pull back, his blind eyes remain locked onto you, empty and unreadable, yet somehow knowing. His lips part—not in surprise, but in something closer to fascination. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, the word almost a sigh, almost a prayer. “Do it again.” It is not a request. It is not a plea. It is a command wrapped in velvet, spoken like a secret only you were meant to hear.

- And when you hesitate, when you wonder if it is wise, if it is safe, he simply tilts his head, his smile carving itself into his face like a brushstroke on an unfinished painting. His fingers ghost over your jaw, not quite touching, not yet. “I wonder,” he muses, voice lilting with something dangerous, something close to reverence, “how many shades of red I could pull from your lips alone.”

Victor von Doom

- Victor von Doom does not tolerate surprises. His mind is a kingdom unto itself, a fortress built upon knowledge and control. There is no action he takes that is not calculated, no movement that is not deliberate. And yet—when you kiss him, when you dare to step into his space and press your lips against his without permission, without warning—it is the one moment he does not anticipate.

- His body tenses, not in shock but in something colder, something unreadable. There is steel in his stance, in the way his fingers curl ever so slightly at his sides. For one impossibly long second, the world feels as if it has stopped, as if the very air around you is waiting for his verdict. And then, his hands rise—not to push you away, but to cup your face with the precision of a sculptor, as if he is considering whether to keep this moment or cast it aside.

- “Foolish,” he murmurs, though his grip does not loosen. His green eyes burn into yours, heavy with something unreadable, something vast. “You mistake me for a man who yields to impulse.” But you can feel it—the faint tremor beneath his touch, the war waging behind his gaze. You have shaken something in him. Something he does not have words for.

- And then, Doom decides. His grip tightens just slightly, his gaze darkens, and when he leans in, it is not hesitant. It is not uncertain. No, Victor von Doom does not do anything halfway. His lips capture yours with the finality of a ruler taking his throne, with the weight of a choice made, a fate sealed. And when he pulls away, he exhales sharply, as if he has allowed himself one moment of indulgence—and nothing more. “You are either very bold,” he muses, voice quiet, “or very foolish.” And then, after a pause, after a second’s hesitation— “Perhaps both.”

Peter Quill

- Peter Quill has been kissed before. By strangers in bars, by lovers who knew better, by the lingering ghosts of memories he refuses to let go of. But this—this kiss, your kiss—catches him completely off guard.

- He is mid-sentence, probably saying something ridiculous, something cocky, something meant to make you roll your eyes—and then, suddenly, your lips are on his, stealing the words right from his mouth. His brain short-circuits so violently that for a full second, he just stands there, hands hovering awkwardly like he doesn’t know what to do with them.

- And then, like a delayed reaction, like an aftershock, he grins. A slow, lazy, completely obnoxious grin that spreads across his face like wildfire. “Well, damn,” he breathes, blinking at you like he’s just been hit by a starship. “If I knew that’s how you felt, I would’ve shut up ages ago.”

- But then—just when you think he’ll ruin it with another joke—he tugs you forward, his fingers curling around your waist with an easy kind of confidence. And when he kisses you this time, it is deeper, slower, like he’s savoring it, like he means it. And maybe, just maybe, Peter Quill has finally found something—someone—worth holding onto.

Nova (Richard Rider)

- Richard Rider has been through hell. He has seen galaxies burn, has carried the weight of worlds on his shoulders, has fought and bled and lost more than he can put into words. He is tired. He is so tired. And yet—when you kiss him, when you pull him down from the weight of the cosmos and remind him of something as simple, as human as this—he forgets, just for a moment, how heavy the universe feels.

- His breath stutters. His entire body tenses, like he’s waiting for something to go wrong, like he’s bracing for an impact that never comes. He has been hurt before, has been broken in ways that no amount of power can fix, and yet—this is different. You are different.

- “I—” he starts, but the words get lost somewhere between his lips and yours. He laughs, but it’s not the cocky, confident sound most people expect from him. It’s breathless, unsure. He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “Didn’t see that coming.” But the way he looks at you—the way his blue eyes soften, the way his fingers twitch like he wants to reach for you and doesn’t know if he should—tells you that maybe, just maybe, he’s glad you caught him off guard.

- And then, slowly, hesitantly, he steps closer. He cups your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones with a gentleness that feels at odds with the battles he’s fought, with the wars he’s survived. And when he kisses you again, it is not hurried, not rushed. It is quiet. It is careful. It is real. Because for the first time in a long, long time—Richard Rider is not fighting. He is simply here. With you.

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txttletale · 10 months ago

Note

What I don't get is that other your support of AI image generation, you're SO smart and well read and concerned with ethics. I genuinely looked up to you! So, what, ethics for everyone except for artists, or what? Is animation (my industry, so maybe I care more than the average person) too juvenile and simplistic a medium for you to care about its extinction at the hands of CEOs endorsing AI? This might sound juvenile too, but I'm kinda devastated, because I genuinely thought you were cool. You're either with artists or against us imho, on an issue as large as this, when already the layoffs in the industry are insurmountable for many, despite ongoing attempts to unionize. That user called someone a fascist for pointing this out, too. I guess both of you feel that way about those of us involved in class action lawsuits against AI image generation software.

i can't speak for anyone else or the things they've said or think of anyone. that said:

1. you should not look up to people on the computer. i'm just a girl running a silly little blog.

2. i am an artist across multiple mediums. the 'no true scotsman' bit where 'artists' are people who agree with you and you can discount anyone disagrees with you as 'not an artist' and therefore fundamentally unsympathetic to artists will make it very difficult to actually engage in substantive discussion.

3. i've stated my positions on this many times but i'll do it one more: i support unionization and industrial action. i support working class artists extracting safeguards from their employers against their immiseration by the introduction of AI technology into the work flow (i just made a post about this funnily enough). i think it is Bad for studio execs or publishers or whoever to replace artists with LLMs. However,

4. this is not a unique feature of AI or a unique evil built into the technology. this is just the nature of any technological advance under capitalism, that it will be used to increase productivity, which will push people out of work and use the increased competition for jobs to leverage that precarity into lower wages and worse conditions. the solution to this is not to oppose all advances in technology forever--the solution is to change the economic system under which technologies are leveraged for profit instead of general wellbeing.

5. this all said anyone involved in a class action lawsuit over AI is an enemy of art and everything i value in the world, because these lawsuits are all founded in ridiculous copyright claims that, if legitimated in court, would be cataclysmic for all transformative art--a victory for any of these spurious boondoggles would set a precedent that the bar for '''infringement''' is met by a process that is orders of magnitude less derivative than collage, sampling, found art, cut-ups, and even simple homage and reference. whatever windmills they think they are going to defeat, these people are crusading for the biggest expansion of copyright regime since mickey mouse and anyone who cares at all about art and creativity flourishing should hope they fail.

#ask #apollodrome

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smutoperator · 9 months ago

Text

Party Monster

Aeri Uchinaga (Giselle) x Male Reader (special guests: Ning Yizhuo, Kim Minjeong, Yu Jimin)

Tags: anal, asshole boyfriend, birthday, butt plug, cheater, clothed titfucking, cuckquean, creampies, cum on belly, facesitting, facial, (lots of) fingering, flashback, grinding, halloween, mirror sex, morning blowjob, parties, rimming, threesomes, tummy licking, voyeurism

Word count: 9420.

October 30th - Giselle's birthday

It's your girlfriend's birthday, and she's getting herself ready. From afar, you just look at her body as she stares at the bathroom's mirror and puts on her makeup, noticing her thicc legs and big ass even from a long distance. Meanwhile, you're getting impatient; she's taking too long to get dressed.

"Gigi, we gotta go," you tell her. "I'm going as fast as you can," she answers you, giving you an eyeroll in the process. You notice something is wrong. Giselle doesn't really seem very willing to go to her own party and keeps putting you on hold. But why?

You walk towards the bathroom, and Giselle faces you; her pink hair, big glasses, and black dress with a pantyhose make her look quite cool and enticing. Maybe even too hot for you.

"That's a great dress you're wearing, Gigi," you tell her. "Sure," she says, looking quite bothered. "Oh, and happy birthday," you tell her. "I guess," she answers.

"Can I watch you getting ready?" you ask Giselle. "Why do you want to do this? To look at me like the cheating pervert you are and distract me?" she replies angrily.

And that's the moment you realize she knows.

No more, Mr. Nice guy for Gigi; for now on, you'll be the biggest asshole she'll ever know. To match with that fat ass, she's arching proudly while getting herself ready.

"You know what, Giselle, you dyed your hair pink lately, but did you dye the hair in your pussy pink too?" you ask a very inappropriate question to her. "Why don't you check it by yourself?" she asks you. You do just that, ripping her pantyhose and then pulling her panties down to see if she did it.

"WHAT THE FUCK YOU STUPID ASSHOLE? I DIDN'T MEAN FOR YOU TO LITERALLY DO IT" Giselle angrily screams, pushing her panties back up. She's really mad now. She just got that pantyhose and you ripped it apart. "God damn it, you're such a distracting asshole," she tells you.

You ignore Giselle's words and start touching her pussy. "Why are you so curious? I thought her pussy was better; didn't you cum inside it last week?" Giselle asks, reminding you of why she's been so angry these past days. But you're committed not to listen to her and just pay attention to her folds.

"I see you didn't dye it pink, but regardless, your pussy is quite pink," you tell her. "But is it pinkier than her pussy, you know, the one you nutted all over last week?" Giselle asks, determined to shove all her anger towards you. She wants to break up with you right now, and if today wasn't her birthday, she would do that. But she doesn't want to ruin it, trying to stay calm against your assholeness.

Giselle is also starting to get on your nerves, but you know a solution to manage both your angers and hers. It's right between your legs, and it needs to go right in her pussy, and that's exactly what you do, pulling your underwear down and Giselle's to the side and inserting your cock right in that pink cunt.

"Who told you to put that dirty cock in my pussy?" Giselle asks, pointing out that she didn't consent to it. "No one, but you begged for it, arching that fat ass in front of me," you tell her. "God, you're such an asshole. But you know what, now that you're inside it, just fuck me, it's that only thing you can do right in your life after all," Giselle mocks you.

These words get you even angrier, and you pick up the pace, your shaft slowly disappearing under Giselle's big butt as your cock gets deeper in her pussy; you can tell her moans are of anger, but she slowly starts to cream herself on your cock; in the end, she just can't resist that huge shaft in her needy fuckholes.

You increase the pace of your thrusts, nearly ruining Giselle's eye makeup as she nearly drops her eyeliner. Her slutty face in the mirror makes your blood boil, and you take your frustrations right in her cunt. "Fuck, fuck," she curses, both of you looking like the angriest couple ever.

Giselle can't even do her makeup anymore as your fast thrusts make you take more and more control over her body. "Go easy; I need to finish my makeup," she tells you. But you just ignore her, going harder instead and just pounding that cunt like your life depended on it.

"Damn, I told you to go easy; are you stupid?" Giselle asks, clinging herself onto the bathroom's tap as you pound her. "No, I'm not; I just want to fuck you like the whore you are. You claim you don't need a man, just accessories, but I guess the accessory you need the most is my cock," you say to her.

Giselle moves her body, meeting your thrusts, but you quickly put an end to it, taking control and going back to pounding her to the fullest. "OH FUCK," she moans. "You know what? If you're not going to let me get ready, just fuck me in the ass," she tells you.

"Not yet, Gigi, I'm going to destroy that pink kitty first," you tell her, grabbing her neck and reaching into her dress as well to grope her tits. She tries to hold herself to anything in her vicinity. But you suddenly come to a halt and present your conditions.

"Bounce that fat ass on my cock and I'll let you get fucked in the ass," you tell her. Giselle obliges, as you stop and let her take control, enjoying the recoil of her big butt every time she gets down your shaft and clashes with your hips. "Your pussy is so fucking wet today, Gigi; you really want to lube my cock to fuck my ass, you slutty kitty," you tell her.

"You want more lube, baby, come get it," Giselle says, getting on her knees and sucking your big cock, enjoying her own taste, her saliva quickly covering your shaft as she spits all over your dick and sucks it like a maniac. You push her towards your bedroom, watching her climb on the bed with her big ass wiggling back and forth.

But first, you want some extra fun with her pussy, putting your cock back inside it and enjoying her moan as she bounces it on your cock. "Such a slutty kitten," you tell her. "If you say so, then fuck that kitten," Giselle asks, making you go crazy and plow her cunt even harder. You rip Giselle's brand new pantyhose completely, leaving her tail completely naked for you to drool over.

You tease Giselle, massaging the area around her butthole; she follows suit, putting a couple fingers in her anus while her long nails scratch your shaft and make it throb even harder. "Stretching your ass for Daddy's big cock, you fucking slut?" you ask her.

Giselle doesn't answer, trying to keep herself concentrated as you nail her cunt, her asshole winking as you stuff your cock deep inside her. You answer the winking with your thumb up her butthole, making her moan even louder. She really enjoys the anal massage. "Is this what you wanted for your birthday, baby?" you ask her. "Well, yes, but I want more," Giselle answers.

You finally give Giselle what she asks for, putting your cock right up that big Japanese butt. "Oh my God," she moans. "Oh fuck," you groan. Even though you have fucked her in the ass since the first encounter, you two often get surprised a lot of times, you by how tight it is, and her by how well your fat cock stretches it out.

You push as hard as you can against Giselle's fat ass; she bounces on it and makes your cock go even madder. "That's what I want for my birthday," Giselle says. "Not really, that's what you want every day, you big butt anal slut," you answer her.

Giselle moans as your cock does great work inside her ass. "I'm going to destroy your dirty, slutty, tight ass on your fucking birthday," you tell Giselle, who closes her eyes as she takes a huge pounding, only able to pray to God every time your shaft reaches the depths of her anus.

You pause a bit to give Giselle a taste of her asshole; she always loves doing it, massively bobbing her head on your shaft and seizing the opportunity, bouncing her mouth on it, and covering your cock full of spit. "My ass tastes so good," Giselle says, licking your shaft from top to bottom and then stroking it hard as she licks your balls.

"You want it back in your ass, you fucking bitch?" you ask her. "Yes, baby," Giselle answers. "Then beg for it," you reply. "Yes, please, put this big fucking dick in my tight little asshole," she answers. "That's the spirit," you tell her.

You put Giselle on her knees on the floor and put your cock back in her asshole, more determined than ever to destroy it; your feet stomp her head, and you get real rough with her. "Bubble butt birthday slut, that's what you're going to get for being so rude to me," you tell her.

"You love this fucking dick in your ass, don't you? To think you were calling it dirty just a couple moments ago," you prank Giselle. "Yes, I love this dirty cock up my fat ass," Giselle says, proud of her assets. The more she talks, the more you want to fuck her until she can't walk. Despite getting obliterated, Giselle still manages to rub her clit as you pound her butt, squirting all over the floor.

"OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, DON'T FUCKING STOP FUCKING MY ASS," Giselle screams loud. Indeed, you won't stop; that butthole is so addictive. "I've got the best asshole ever, don't I, baby? Perfect for that big cock, isn't it?" Giselle says, teasing you.

"You know what you got? The most cummable ass ever," you tell Giselle, dropping a huge load of your semen inside it. "STAY THERE" you order to her. You quickly hush to the bathroom, picking up her butt plug in the drawer and rushing back to keep your cum stored in Giselle's butthole.

"This is my birthday gift for you," you say to her.

"An asshole cumming inside another? How fitting," she replies.

"Now get yourself ready; the hosts are coming and you're late," you tell Giselle.

The guests start to arrive as Giselle rushes to get dressed. Her best friend Somi is the first to arrive. God damn it, that blonde bitch really does have some big tits. Speaking of big tits, Karina arrives next. Giselle's friends keep coming; it's Chaeyeon next, followed by Winter, but one Chinese girl finally comes to steal your attention.

Ningning arrives in her stunning Versace outfit. The maknae truly has an unmatched fashion sense, and watching her look so cool in front of you is truly a shock—the same girl that was calling you daddy and asking you to breed her and put a baby in her womb at her own birthday party.

"AHHHH DADDDY, PLEASE, FUCK ME, STRETCH ME OUT, CUM INSIDE THAT YOUNG PINK CHINESE PUSSY UNTIL YOU PUT A BABY IN IT," the screaming moans of Ningning still echoed in your head. The tightness and warmth of her pussy, the perfect smell of her body, her perky tits that you licked like a baby a week ago. Just reminding yourself of it was giving you whiplash. Truth be told, you can never get bored with Ningning by your side.

But just as you were about to greet Ningning, your girlfriend comes downstairs.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIGI," her friends scream together. Giselle greets them one by one before looking at you and stomping on your right foot with her high heels. She knows you have a massive crush on Ningning; her groupmate knows too. The tension rises in the air. But it's Giselle herself who comes up with a solution.

"Why don't you show me what you two did last week?" she asks Ningning.

The party keeps rolling, the guests heavily drunk as they celebrate Giselle's birthday. Somi decides to be the DJ. The guests don't even notice Giselle is no longer with them.

Giselle takes you and Ningning upstairs to her bedroom. The smell of sex from your early quickie is still there. She looks at her younger groupmate, gives her a little wink, and whispers in her ear.

"Put those Versace clothes on the floor and get completely naked," Giselle says.

Ningning obliges, and soon it's Giselle's turn; you're facing both beauties completely naked. Giselle puts Ningning laying on the bed and starts eating her pussy, the same pussy you jizzed inside last week, making you wonder if she can still feel the smell of your cum in there. Then, your girlfriend turns around and says some words to you.

"What are you waiting for? Get yourself naked and fuck me now."

You follow Giselle's orders, taking your clothes off in a matter of seconds; she spreads her legs, and you put your cock back in her pussy, giving her a sexy but hard spooning under Ningning's watch as you massage your girlfriend's pussy. No wonder Ningning got fucked so well last week; you two really know how to do it; going to her was just jumping from one tasty pussy to another.

"OH YEAH, FUCK ME HARD, BABY," Giselle screams, backed by the loud noise muffling it completely. Well, it's not like the guests care, as they turned Giselle's party into theirs and have Somi and Karina literally popping beer cans with their tits.

You choke Giselle and grope her tits as you pump her pussy hard. You two kiss each other passionately. Soon you're railing Giselle from behind again while Ningning jerks herself off to the scene, until Giselle interrupts her.

"Don't cum yet, little slut; I want you to make both of you cum," Giselle tells her. "No, bitch, I'm going to be the one cumming; give me your boyfriend's cock and let me show how it's done," the Chinese girl says.

Ningning takes your cock down her throat and goes balls deep from the beginning. As she bobs her head on your shaft, Giselle gets between her legs, and her tongue puts some heat in Ningning's young pussy, you two doing the most to double-team the maknae and give her maximum pleasure.

"Let me handle this, baby," you tell Giselle, putting your hands on Ningning's pink pussy. Last week's experience means you already know her sweetest spots, and just a little fingering already makes Ningning shake. "FUCKKKKKKK," she screams as your hands are all over her cunt. "Ohhhh, she really likes it," Giselle says.

You fuck Ningning's face until she gags on your cock. "You're making my dreams come true; I always wanted to share your cock with your girlfriend," Ningning says. You and Ningning look at each other, Giselle seizing the opportunity to suck your cock herself while you put your hands on the maknae's mouth. Watching Ningning take your cock deep in her mouth gives Giselle some urgency, with her trying to accomplish it herself and leaving her mouth wide open for you to fuck her face as well.

"Come here, Ning, show me girlfriend what you did to my cock last week," you tell the Chinese girl, grabbing her hair and pushing her against your crotch to deepthroat your shaft. As soon as she gags, you "punish" her with your cock swinging against her face. "Bad girl, you only stop sucking that cock when I tell you to," you say to her.

You punish Ningning by pushing your balls down her mouth. She closes her eyes as Giselle also slides under her body and eats her pussy. The young girl tries to overcome both of you stimulating her, but it's too much, as her throat gets pounded like crazy and her pussy is shivering with Giselle's licks.

You carry Ningning and put her back in the bed, shoving your hands back in her little pink pussy. "GODDDD, DON'T STOP," she screams. You take advantage of her weakness and unceremoniously shove your cock in her cunt. "YES, YES, YES," Ningning screams as Giselle comes up to massage her tits and kiss her. You show no mercy to little Ningning yourself, fucking her pussy hard from the start, just like the way you had her calling you daddy during her birthday last week.

"OH FUCK, AHH, AHHHH, AHHHHHHH," Ningning moans and screams, getting louder and louder, especially after Giselle places her hands all over her clit. The maknae quickly starts losing her breath. Meanwhile, Giselle very much enjoys it, sharing very passionate kisses with you as you nail her groupmate.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, OUCCHHHHHH?" Ningning screams once again as you pull out and then put your hands in her pussy, making her squirt for the first time. "Looks like he made you cum a lot on your birthday, Ning; I'm a little jealous," Giselle says.

"Well, baby, watch me do this," you say, putting Ningning in a spooning position and hammering her pussy more. "Yes, like this, like this, please," and out of breath, Ningning moans. "Like this?" you ask rhetorically, choking Ningning and making her grin her teeth. Giselle just watches, not hiding; she's very entertained watching it, feeling she shouldn't have been that mad early this morning. It looks like she's developing a kink for watching you fuck other girls.

Ningning gets another pounding to remember, having flashes from last week run all over her head. "AH, AH, AH, AH," she screams, very out of breath. Giselle turns into her official cunt masseur, unable to keep her hands off her friend's throbbing clit. You soon start to slap Ningning's perky tits, getting the young girl even more overwhelmed. "Oh yeah, she takes it so well," Giselle says, praising her groupmate's slutty skills.

"FUCKKKKKKKKKK," Ningning screams very loud as you pinch and grope her tits, soon making her squirt. She drops so many juices on your cock. Giselle quickly takes advantage of them, sitting on your cock with ease as she gets ready to bounce on it. "Come on, bitch, bounce that fat ass on that cock," Ningning says, quickly recovering to take revenge on her groupmate and spanking Giselle's big butt.

Giselle takes note and twerks hard on your cock. Ningning looks at her with whore eyes as they kiss each other. You reach under her body and make her pussy squirt again. "AHHHHH," Ningning gets caught by surprise. Gigi just keeps bouncing, going harder the more both of you keep spanking her ass.

Ningning slides her face between Giselle's tits, enjoying getting hit as they bounce and sucking them like a baby. She then reaches for Giselle's pussy, fingering it just as Giselle starts grinding on your cock. "Seems like your girlfriend really wants your cum," Ningning tells you. "And to think she already got a lot this morning," you reply.

"OH GOD, YES," Giselle screams as she impales herself full of your cock. Meanwhile, you challenge her. "Let's see who can squirt first," you tell her, putting your hands back in Ningning's pussy. "AHHHHHHHHH," the young girl screams again.

"Looks like she won," you tell Giselle as Ningning's pussy gets wet again. "Give me that taste, Giselle orders, licking your hands and then kissing Ningning. You take advantage of your girlfriend getting distracted and thrust up her pussy. "Oh my God, fuck fuck fuck," she moans, caught by surprise, before retaking control and showing who the real boss is with more grinding.

Ningning dives to deepthroat your cock and taste Gigi's juices while you make out with your girlfriend up top. You quickly show Giselle her groupmate won't be the only one squirting, using your magic hands to get her pussy yet. "Oh, yes, yes, yes," Giselle moans as you essentially fist her cunt and make her gush all over your hands, much to her and Ningning's celebration, who have more juices to taste from it.

Ningning takes her turn and starts riding your cock herself, looking like someone who just found a new toy, laughing and giggling as your cock hits deep in her folds. Giselle comes from behind and licks your shaft as it goes in and out of her groupmate's pussy, while also taking some chances to taste Ningning's ass.

"Yeah, yeah, YEAH, YEAH, AHHHHH," Ningning screams as you push your cock up that cunt. "Come on, get up and bounce on that cock," you tell her. Ningning obeys you like the good submissive slut she is, ramping up her efforts to ride you. "Wow, she's so hot sitting on your cock," Giselle tells you.

"You like that?" you ask Ningning, slapping her ass and turning her porcelain skin red. "HELL YEAH, FUCK!" she screams. Giselle decides to take her turn too, printing her big hands all over her groupmate's ass. "MAKE THOSE CHEEKS FUCKING RED," Ningning screams again.

You ramp up the pace, wrapping your arms around Ningning and pushing hard against her pussy. "YEAHHHH, FUCKKKK, I'M GONNNA CUM, AHHHHHH, GOSH," she screams, losing her breath once again. "You like being a slut for Daddy's cock?" you ask her, now slapping her face too. "YEAH, I LOVE IT. I WANT TO BE DADDY'S CUMSLUT FOREVER," she yells.

"Then give it to me; keep riding that cock like a good bitch," you tell Ningning, teasing her with your finger in her asshole. Giselle just watches and masturbates herself to you, fucking her friend. "GOD DAMN IT, FUCKKKK," Ningning gets caught by surprise as you make her squirt once again with your hands as soon as you pull out of her pussy. Ningning then gets punished hard as you grab her hair and push her face against your shaft while pushing it upwards. She chokes hard on your cock as you treat her like nothing but a bunch of fuckholes.

"Your time to sit your fat ass in it has come, Gigi," you tell your girlfriend. Giselle obliges, taking off the butt plug and lubing your cock with the cum you put in her earlier. Giselle impales herself with ease, riding your cock hard and fast as you get a privileged view of her big butt bouncing on it.

"Wow, you're such a good rider, Gigi," Ningning says. "And I'll be even better if you slap my tiddies," your girlfriend replies. The maknae quickly follows her lead and plays with Giselle's big boobs, spanking and groping them while also massaging her pussy and kissing Giselle.

"Oh yes, make that pussy squirt; that's so fucking hot," Giselle begs to Ningning, who now eats her out. Ningning picks up the pace, using her hands now to make Giselle squirt. "Cum all over my fucking cock," you tell your girlfriend. Ningning grabs your shaft and rubs it against Giselle's entrance, making her squirt. "AHHHHHH FUCKKKKKK," the Japanese girl screams. She puts your cock back in her ass, and you thrust hard against it, leveling her and making her float with the hard poundings. Ningning spanks her tits as Giselle cums. "Do I taste good?" Giselle asks as she squirts right on Ningning's face.

"God damn it, Gigi, you're cumming so hard in your boyfriend's cock," Ningning says. "Well, now I want you to squirt on my face," Giselle replies as you put her in a spooning position, fucking her ass even further while Ningning sits on her face to get eaten out. "Fuck, you eat me so good," Ningning says. You reach to finger Giselle's cunt as your hands and Giselle's mouth compete to see who's going to make which girl cum first.

Hands are flying everywhere, stimulating every inch of the girls bodies: yours grope Giselle's boobs, hers grope Ningning's tits, Ningning's finger Giselle's cunt. Ningning grinds her own pussy on Giselle's mouth, who prays to God as you destroy her ass. Suddenly, your own hands are reaching to spank Ningning's tits.

Ningning gets on top of Giselle as you enter her tight asshole next. "Fuck her on top of me," Giselle demands. You do just as your girlfriend asks, giving Ningning a nice pounding from behind. Both girls now duel to see who screams the hardest, Ningning with your cock in her ass or Giselle with your hands back in her cunt. You lube your cock with some of Giselle's squirt and plunge it back on Ningning's butt, the young girl completely overwhelmed by your fast pace thrusts.

"That's really good; make my cheeks red," Ningning moans as you hit her ass; you then pull her hair and cover her mouth. "Stop screaming for a second bitch," you tell her. "I'm going to punish you," you say to Ningning, sticking your fingers in her pussy and leading to more squirting and more screaming. "AHHHHHHHHHH," Ningning yells.

Giselle shoves her cum-filled butt plug in Ningning's asshole, fucking it while you stick your fingers in the maknae's cunt. Ningning is overwhelmed with the amount of stimulation you two give her. "Damn, I can't take it; you two fuck me so good," she says. "Well, there is more to come," you say to her.

You put Ningning facing you and stick your cock back in her ass. "Oh, I love it. I love it. I love this fucking cock in my ass," she says. "Shut the fuck up," you tell her, shutting her mouth. But as soon as you uncover it, she goes back to screaming. Giselle enjoys it. "That's so hot," your girlfriend says, spitting on your cock to lube it up to fuck Ningning's ass. You fuck her pussy with your fingers and her ass with your big cock, double-stimulating the young girl. "That feels really good; give me more," Ningning says.

"AHHHHHHH FUCKKKKK," an out-of-breath Ningning screams. Giselle shoves her pussy in Ningning's face while you pound the young Chinese on all fours, her whole body turning red as you spank her butt and fuck her ass. "Lick my pussy like you want it," Giselle asks. "I'm going to go deep," you warn Nining, soon mounting on top of her and catching her by surprise.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," that's too deep and too big in my ass," Ningning says. You plow her like a bull fucking a cow, making her scream in pain as you rip her asshole apart. Ningning clings to Giselle's pussy to cope with it. "That's perfect," Giselle says. "Keep licking my cunt," she demands.

But you have different plans, taking Ningning all by yourself and plowing her ass in a full nelson. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," she screams, unable to deal with your fast thrusts and your balls smacking her clit while Giselle fingers it. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, HOLY SHIT, I'M GONNA CUM," she screams as she squirts again.

"I'm going to cum too; give me your fucking mouth," you tell Ningning, pulling out of her and jerking your cock until it blasts a huge load right in her slutty young Chinese face. You then move to Giselle and unload in her mouth too. The two girls then kiss each other and lick their faces full of your cum as you are fully drained and just enjoy the view of two hot girls kissing each other.

Giselle and Ningning leave the room, going back to check the party only to find a scenario of utter chaos. Beer cans and condoms are all over the floor, and when they go to the living room, they find Somi and Karina dueling to see who gets plowed the hardest, with guys queueing up to fuck them raw and hard, making their big tits bounce and unloading their cum inside their pink pussies.

"Looks like we weren't the only ones having sex during this party," Ningning says.

October 31st - Halloween

Giselle wakes up the next morning. Ningning is still there, and so is another one of Giselle's groupmates, a still recovering from last night's party's hangover, Winter. As Winter dresses herself for the Halloween party that is coming next, Giselle asks her an offer she can't refuse.

"Minjeong, do you want to suck my boyfriend's cock?" Giselle asks. "Of course," Winter answers. "But let's keep it quiet; we can't wake Ningning up; she already tasted too much of it," Giselle says, getting closer to your bedroom. "You'll pull his underwear while I'll sit on his face," Giselle tells her the plan. "Got it," Winter replies.

"Good morning, baby," Giselle says, suffocating you with her big ass. "Are you ready for today's surprise?" she asks you, as you see a blonde girl pulling your underwear down and getting shocked with the size of your morning wood. "Wow, you weren't lying, Aeri unnie; it's a really big one," Winter says as she licks your shaft a bit. Giselle stays on top of you and gives it a little taste too, stroking your cock to get it throbbing for Minjeong.

"Wow, it's extra tasty; it's like candy," Winter says as she dives on your shaft and gives your balls some love. GIselle just watches as she lets Minjeong have fun with it. You're barely awake, unable to connect many thoughts as both girls fight for your shaft. "You better have a big load saved on these balls; I'm so hungry; I need it for breakfast," Winter says.

Winter gives your cock a slurpy deepthroat. "Keep going, Minjeong; I want to see how much you can fit in your mouth," Giselle says, pushing her friend's head against your shaft. Winter loves it, making some crazy facial expressions. The two girls then share some kisses to taste your cock from their mouths.

"Let's tease him a little," Giselle says, grinding her ass against your shaft. Minjeong follows suit, and soon your cock is surrounded by their cheeks on all sides. "Hmmm, I love it, big dick between your cheeks," Winter says. "How does that feel? You like the way we tease your cock?" she asks, but you just let them do their thing.

"This is the close you're going to get, baby. I know you thought you could fuck her like you did to Ningning yesterday, but I'm not going to let it; you already had too much fun yesterday," Giselle says as she keeps rubbing her ass on your cock.

Both girls spit on your cock and suck it together, Winter moving her tongue around your shaft while Giselle dives on it. As Minjeong is on her knees in the bed, you try to reach under her skirt. "Come on, baby, get up and do some work; come here and fuck her face," Giselle tells you.

Giselle and Winter get on their knees as you get up, bobbing their heads hard on your cock. You grab Minjeong's head, pushing it closer to your shaft, but Giselle just can't let go of your cock; once she does, both of them lick your shaft from the side, making you go crazy even as you just woke up. "Wow, that cock is so hard, and you suck it so well, Aeri unnie," Winter says. "Yes, I'm so lucky to have such a big cock boyfriend and share them with my groupmates," she says.

You finally make a move, pushing Winter's head against your cock, and start facefucking her, much to Giselle's pleasure, as she enjoys watching Minjeong choke on your cock while she rims you from behind. Minjeong gets very sloppy with her tongue, spitting all over your dick. "You like that?" Giselle asks her, but she's unable to answer, with a string of saliva coming out of her mouth as Winter coughs on your dick and tries not to gag as you shove it down her throat.

"Wow, that was almost the whole thing." Giselle gets impressed with Winter's cocksucking skills. Minjeong just smiles to her unnie. Winter reaches into Giselle's purse and puts a ring around your cock, restricting the blood flow and making it throb even harder. Giselle adds some spit on your cock, deepthroating it and making Winter impressed. "Look at that; look at Aeri unnie taking all that fucking cock," Winter says.

Winter takes her turn bobbing her head on your cock while Giselle dives under your balls. You push Minjeong's head further. "Oh baby, come down; there will always be enough spit for you," Winter says. "Come here, go back and forth between our mouths," she continues.

You use Giselle and Winter's mouths like gloryholes, sticking your cock in and out of them repeatedly and then fucking their faces, making them get very sloppy while doing it. The girls compete to see who can take your cock the deepest and to see who can spit on it the most. "Ohhh, it's so slippery," Giselle says.

"I want you to lick that ass," Winter tells Giselle, leading to a big smile from Giselle, who warms it up for Minjeong by putting her tongue all over your butthole while Winter savors your shaft a little more. "So hot watching you lick that ass," Winter says as she kisses Giselle's dirty mouth after some good rimming from your girlfriend on you. "Look how hard he is; our tongues seem to be working well on him," Winter says.

"You're such a good slut; your boyfriend must really love the way you suck his cock every day," Minjeong says to Giselle, who strokes your cock hard now, twisting and turning her hands all over your shaft while Minejong stuffs your balls in her mouth. Giselle bobs her head hard and then gags after deepthroating your pole. "You're such a good ball whore," she tells Minjeong, who sucks your cock balls deep next.

You start jerking your cock off franctically, signaling you're ready to cum at any second. "Cum at her belly," Giselle tells you, who oblige and aim your cock right at Minjeong's navel, pressing your tip against it. "Ohhhh, ohhhh, ohhhh," you groan as your tip against her skin makes you lose it and unload in her midriff, paiting it white. As you're done cumming, Giselle comes in and licks Winter's tummy.

"Your cum is so yummy in her tummy tummy tummy," Giselle says, taking it in her mouth and then swiping it with Winter, dropping the massive load you gave to her midriff right in her mouth.

Ningning arrives a little late as she just woke up, finding the three of you having fun.

"Damn, you girls didn't even invite me to drink some morning milk," she says. "You're getting really addicted to my boyfriend's cock," Giselle says. "It's hard not to; it's so huge," Ningning says. "You girls are going to kill me," you tell them.

"The day is just starting, baby boy; get yourself ready because it's going to be hard to survive; have you forgotten it's Halloween?" Giselle says.

You take some rest and then get yourself ready for the Halloween party, wearing a Michael Myers costume. Giselle takes some futuristic clothes, leading you to ask which costume she is taking. "I'm going to be an ae traveling to Kwangya," she says. "I don't know much about it, just that those music videos you're in are quite crazy for me to follow," you tell her. "Well, no problem. Is it you that is going to kill us tonight?" Giselle giggles.

Both of you arrive at the Halloween party, and you can quickly tell who the center of attention is. Everybody has their eyes set on just one girl, a tall woman in an all-black outfit with knee-high socks and a top that can barely cover her huge boobs.

You finally get an opening to get close to Karina. She notices you and quickly asks, "Are you Giselle's boyfriend?" she asks. "Well, sometimes," you answer her. "Sometimes, what does that mean?" Karina asks. "Well, we have sort of an open relationship," you tell her as you kiss Karina's neck. "Calm down, baby, you're a killer, not a vampire," she tells you. "Well, tonight I want you to kill me," you say to her, reaching to touch her boobs covered by her costume.

"Hmm, that's so tasty," she says. "Can I suck your cock?" she then whispers in your ear. "You can do whatever you want," you answer. "Let's go to a quiet corner, and I'll suck your soul," Karina says.

You two find an empty room, and Karina quickly locks the door. She flashes her boobs to you, and you try to touch them. "Not yet, baby," Karina says, teasing you. "Tell me, Karina, how big are they?" you ask her. "34DD, all natural," she answers. "Looks like you fit my ideal type perfectly; you're so tall," she says.

Karina unzips your pants, and your cock quickly comes out of it, already throbbing for her. "Can't wait to take it in my mouth," she says. "Then do it," you tell her. She gets sloppy from the start, giving you a quite slurpy blowjob and taking it at full force, making her saggy tits already bounce. "Good girl, spit all over this big cock," you tell her.

"Ahhhhh, Your cock takes so amazing," Karina says as she chokes herself all over it, making quite loud noises as she keeps bobbing her head on it and licking it like a maniac. Her blowjob is very fast-paced and quickly puts you on the edge. "Are you having fun?" you ask her. "Of course, baby," she answers.

"Can I put it between your tits?" you ask Karina. "Obviously, you didn't even need to ask; all the boys want to be lucky enough to have their cocks between my big tits," Karina says, lifting her top just a little to free her massive bazookas and squeezing your cock right in the middle of them.

You can tell right from the get-go that Karina is a next-level titfucker as she squeezes your throbbing shaft between her boobs to the point the tip can barely pop out. She smiles and fucks your cock as if she is giving a massage to it, touching the right spots with her fat milkers. "Ahhhh, what a fantastic cock you got, baby," she says just as she crushes your tip between her massive melons.

You quickly find out there are few things better than a Karina titjob. Those bazookas seem like they are mad at a lab in Kwangya, given how huge and soft they are. She turns your cock into her playground, as you can feel your entire blood rushing into that throbbing shaft the more she moves those big tits between it.

"Suck it again," you tell her as a way not to cum early. Karina obliges, bobbing her head on your shaft without using her hands. "Choke on my big cock, you big tit bitch," you tell Karina as she does just that, closing her eyes and taking your cock in her mouth as deep as she can. More titfucking ensues as Karina sexily moans and bounces those melons hard on your shaft. "Spit on it, slut," you order her, and she obliges like a good girl.

Karina titfucks you really fast, committing to destroy your cock; every time it emerges out of her melons, she makes sure to lick your tip. "Tell me how much you love having that dick between your big tits," you tell her. "Oh fuck, I love it so much," she says, squeezing them very hard as you come from the side and make her push it even further.

"Those big tits are going to make me cum at any second," you tell Karina. "Then cum under my top; I want to see that white cum dripping under it," she replies.

Karina puts her top back on as your cock slides between her fabric. You take the initiative now even though you can't even see where your cock is hitting, just looking at your tip bulging under her top. "You're so fucking hard; I love the way you fuck my big tits," Karina says as you pick up the pace. You squeeze her melons, using them as if you're inside the tight walls of her pink pussy. "That's hot as fuck," you tell her. "It'll be even hotter when you give me that fucking cum," she answers.

And you do just as she asks, dropping your thick sperm under her top, Karina giggling as she watches the black fabric of it turn white. You then pull out and tell her to clean it, which Karina does perfectly, ending an amazing session with this big tit beauty, better yet, with no one seeing it.

Or at least you thought so.

"I had a lot of fun," Karina says, giving you a high five. "But now I have to go; our performance is coming up soon," she continues. "Sure, I won't stand in the way," you tell her. "Hope I can see you there," she says, giving you one last kiss.

As you return to the main hall, the announcer speaks.

"Ladies and gentlemen, raise your hands for one of the nation's top groups, Aespa!!!!!!!"

The Aespa girls enter the stage and start performing their new song Whiplash; they all tease you, looking at the crowd multiple times. As they play Supernova afterwards, the crowd goes even crazier, and something is about to happen that will get things even wilder.

Giselle jumps offstage in your direction and starts grinding her fat ass against your clothed manhood as the song plays loud. You quickly get aroused and are unable to react. She keeps grinding on it for a long time, and after a couple minutes you just can't resist, cumming on your pants in front of everybody inside that party.

"Looks like I'm the real killer," she says.

You feel embarrassed. Giselle really wanted revenge on you for cheating on her. But your anger doesn't last long, as she quickly talks to you. "I have a surprise; come here, baby.".

Giselle guides you to another room where two beautiful girls are waiting—ah, the killer duo of Jiminjeong, the body bang duo, smiling at you as Giselle gives them the command.

"I want you to fuck them in front of me."

The two girls quickly take your pants off and start touching your erection. Karina takes her top off your you to massage her big tits while kissing her; meanwhile, Winter strokes your cock. You then move into kissing Minjeong as Karina gets on her knees to suck that big dick. Then Minjeong takes her turn and does the same thing while you play with Karina's boobs. Both girls then get on their knees and fight for your cock, taking turns between sucking the tip and licking your balls, before you slide your erection between their mouths.

All three of you get naked, Minjeong taking the initiative and rubbing your cock against the entrance of her pussy, sexily moaning and making you groan like a monster. As you kiss Karina, Winter keeps her hands stroking your cock at all times, while Karina reaches hers to massage your balls, to which you reciprocate, reaching your own hand to massage her pussy. She then grabs your cock and massages it against Winter's navel.

Jimin and Minjeong drop you to the bed, as Ningning has also joined Giselle, both of them even getting popcorn as if they were watching a porn movie going live. Karina takes your cock all by herself while Minjeong sits on your face for you to lick her pretty pink pussy. "Ahhhh, ahhhhh, oh my God," the cute girl moans as you tongue her folds.

Karina grabs your throbbing shaft and rubs it against her big tits as Minjeong's moans grow louder. She clings to her unnie, trying to muffle them as her pussy gets wetter and wetter, kissing Karina and then sucking her tits. Karina turns her attention back to your cock before serving it to Minjeong as you two perform a hot 69 under her watch.

You can't stop making Minjeong moan; make her dive hard to lick and suck your cock; Karina is now teamed up with her. But Jimin decides to steal the candy for her, pulling a trick on Minjeong's treat, leaving her to fend for herself as you keep eating her out while Karina takes your cock and sucks it alone.

"OHHHHH FUCKKKK, AHHHHHHHH," Minjeong moans as you keep tonguing her cunt, getting her already out of breath. Karina is kind and lets her suck your cock while the big tit girl takes on your balls. "Oh yes, eat my pussy, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," Minjeong moans repeatedly.

"You were eating her pussy good, now I want you to eat mine too," Karina says as Winter goes to the side. She sits on your face too, and you definitely won't complain about every single Aespa girl turning your face into their stool. Minjeong takes the break you give her to kiss Karina and grab her wonderful milkers. But soon she realizes what she wants the most is your cock, diving to take it while Karina keeps moaning all by herself.

"You like how she eats your pussy?" Minjeong asks Karina, who agrees in between more moans. They kiss each other while Minjeong strokes your cock before she dives Karina's head for a sloppy 69. "Your saggy boobs look so hot in this position," Minjeong tells her, pushing Karina up to lick her boobs and play with them, sucking them like a baby afterwards and massaging them.

It's finally time for Minjeong to get your cock inside her, something she's been wanting since early in the morning. But before that, she does a little teasing, rubbing your shaft against the entrance of her vagina. However, the friction against her skin is so strong you can't resist and give her a surprise.

Your cock shakes and starts ejaculating shortly after Minjeong does all that rubbing. Caught off guard, she giggles and quickly inserts your cock inside her pussy, trying to get as much cum inside her before she even gets to ride your cock. "He couldn't resist and blew it before even going in," she laughs.

"Ahhhhh, oh God, it's still hard and big," Minjeong says as she puts it in her pussy and starts riding it. She takes it slow, still baffled by your monster cock's size. Karina is right behind her to help. "Unnie, it feels so good," Minjeong says in between moans as she picks up the pace, already losing her breath, while Karina just enjoys watching her get fucked while you reach to grope her tits.

"Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes." It's all Minjeong can moan as she slides up and down your cock while Karina gives her some kisses and then gropes her little tits. "Yes, yes, yes, ohhhhhh, don't stop," Minjeong moans as Karina rubs her clit and makes her leg tremble.

"You seem to be enjoying that cock, Minjeong, but now it's my turn to try it," Karina says, moving forward to bounce on yourcock herself. Minjeong leads your shaft into her pussy, and Karina takes it with ease, impaling herself to the fullest from the beginning, while Minjeong gets to enjoy her big tits bouncing as she sucks them while rubbing her unnie's clit. Karina is incredible, riding you at a steady pace, and even from a back view, with Winter in the way kissing you, you can see her massive tits bouncing hard.

"Keep rubbing my clit Minjeong; make me cum," Karina begs as her moans get sexier. You join in and finger Minjeong's clit, both of them getting overwhelmed, but it's Karina who gets most of the fun, getting smashed by your cock as you make her boobs move like pinballs as she gets pounded from below. "Keep going, baby, I'm going to cum," she says as Minjeong shares more kisses and rubs her hand over Karina's incredible bangable body.

Karina quickly hops off your cock, letting and eager Minejong take a second ride as she gets back on top of you, thing time leaning forward as Karina grabs her cheeks and moves them up and down your cock. "Come on, Minjeong, show me you can do it," Karina says as the younger girl moans. "OH MY GOD, IT'S TOO BIG," she screams as you now wrap your hands around her body while Karina shoves her pussy right at Minjeong's face.

Karina gets on her knees and teases Minjeong to kiss her and suck her tits while riding your cock, but she's just too concentrated on it to even think straight. "OH FUCK," Minjeong moans as you two share kisses under Karina's watch now, her running Minjeong's hair, the young girl barely able to breathe with your monster cock constantly hitting her cervix.

"FUCK, IT'S SO DEEP IN ME," Minjeong says, kissing you again and then Karina as your cock makes her feel things she never did before, completely overwhelmed by your size. Karina lets her have a break, getting herself on all fours for you to fuck her pussy and make her saggy boobs bounce as hard as they can while Minjeong passionately kisses you. Karina moans hard as you show no mercy to her cunt, entertained by her tits moving at each thrust you give her.

Minjeong tastes your cock right from Karina's pussy, lubbing it to take on her tight hole and licking her asshole to further stimulate Karina. You grab Jimin's waist, taking your cock as deep as you can in her pussy while she dives to eat Winter's, her boobs pressed against the matress as you constantly fuck her. But it's Karina who comes out on top, eating Winter's already throbbing pussy and getting her close to cum.

"Give me your tongue, OH FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM," Winter moans as Karina licks her cunt nonstop, searching for your cum as your thrusts push her closer and closer to it. You two work perfectly to make little Minjeong cum again, as your cock is buried deep inside Karina and her tongue is buried deep inside Minjeong, who has to slide herself under Karina's beautiful, sexy body to save herself.

But not for long; if Karina can't use her tongue, she'll just use her hands, making Minjeong smile as she cums with her best friend on top of her, your cock now turned into just an accessory to their pleasure.

Karina moves up and down your cock, sexily moaning on Minjeong's face. God damn it, everything about her is so amazing. Her bangable body, her beautiful face, her huge tits—you just feel blessed for being able to fuck a goddess like her and have your cock go in and out of her pussy endlessly, making her moan each time you get deep inside her and enjoy the franctic bounce of her boobs.

Karina moves to the side, giving you the opportunity to slide your cock in Minjeong's creamy pussy as you get on top of her."OH MY GOD, DAMN IT," Minjeong moans as the mating press position means you get really deep inside her; she just closes her eyes and lets you passionately fuck her as you share kisses with her, Karina enjoying it right to her side. "Please, give me all that cock," she whispers in your ear with her soft voice.

You do just that, enjoying your cock bulge under Minjeong's sexy belly as you fuck her. "Don't stop, don't stop," she whispers. You keep thrusting her while Karina makes things even better, offering her tits for you to suck as you pound Minjeong. "Rub my pussy, make me cum, oh yeah, ah, ah, ah, yeah, yeah, yeah," she tells Karina, who then leans to kiss her and muffly Minjeong's moans, to no avail as she can't resist your cock hitting her nonstop, fingering herself into an orgasm as her legs start shaking with your cock still deep inside her.

Another break for Minjeong as she kisses you while Karina tastes her juices, diving down to suck your cock as Winter recovers from her orgasm. But soon the cute blonde Vixen wants a taste too, getting down as you and Karina share passionate kisses.

Karina seizes the opportunity to jump on your cock, but you quickly discipline the big tit slut, wrapping your hands around her and thrusting upwards while Minjeong smiles watching her get pounded and then kisses you. That's truly the perfect position, watching Karina's boobs bounce in full glory in front of you while she moans like a whore, all that with Minjeong kisses in between. Both of you massage her big tits, eager to get a piece of it as Karina moves her hips and dances on your cock as if she were performing on stage. You rub your hands all over her sexy body, her pussy now queefing every time your cock moves up and down it.

Karina clings to you and passionately kisses you as she leans forward before going back to more riding, going real fast as her tits become living beings and can't stop bouncing. Her and Minjeong hug and kiss you as they enjoy this Halloween night sex. Minjeong gets on all fours but can't handle your cock hitting her cervix, trying to run away before Karina comes in and pushes her back to you, all that while eating Minjeong's ass.

"Come on, take that cock at full speed," Karina says to Minjeong. You fuck her hard, making Minjeong scream. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD," Karina is relentlessly licking Minjeong's asshole before moving up to kiss you as you play with her boobs while fucking Minjeong. You get closer and closer, Minjeong's tight pussy and your fast thrusts getting you on the verge of cumming. "Fuck me hard like that," she begs, grinning her teeth.

"AH, AH, AH, AH, AH, FUCK, OHHHHHHHHHH, FUCKKKKKK," Minjeong screams hard as you enjoy giving her a massive pounding to entertain Karina. Poor Minjeong can barely hold her weight on her knees, your cock turning her into just a fleshlight. "YES, YES, YES, YES," she keeps moaning.

You put a halt to your pounding of Minjeong and then ask your girlfriend. "Can I cum inside Karina?" "Of course," Giselle says. "You already fucked her for a long while; who am I to deny it?" she continues. Karina giggles as she gets ready for one final ride.

Spice it up, burn it up, run it up, up, up, up. Karina rides as hard as she can, you reaching to grab her big tits as they bounce harder than ever, her hips hitting hard as she sits on your cock. "Give me your cum, please; fill my tight pink pussy; ah, ah, ah," she begs. It doesn't take long for Karina to get it—your semen dripping out of her pink cunt as Minjeong comes in to lick it.

"Wow, that was an amazing Halloween night," you say to Giselle, kissing her. The other girls leave the room; you and your girlfriend are now all by yourselves.

"It isn't over yet, you fucking monster," Giselle says. "You're under arrest for excessive horniness," she continues, grabbing some handcuffs and tying you up before using them to tie you to the bed and blindfolding you.

Giselle then reaches out to Karina, giving her a proposal.

"Do you want an anal afterparty with my BF?" she asks.

"Of course," she answers.

"Then come here," Giselle says.

Giselle lets Karina sit on your cock. You can feel a tight asshole start surrounding it, but you never fucked it before. Surely it doesn't feel like your girlfriend's; you fucked it countless times to know it already. Karina then lays down as Giselle moves your hands towards her big tits. "Do you recognize her, baby?" she asks.

"K-Karina?" you say, confused.

"I think you two should have an afterparty; can you fuck her ass until she can't walk without even moving?" Giselle asks.

"I'll try my best," you answer her.

"Good, I want to see you ruin that big tit bitch in front of me." Giselle says

And that's exactly what you would do for the remainder of the night, stopping only after you made Karina's butthole prolapse and bleed like a killer stabbing his victim.

#giselle smut #aespa smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

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gf2bellamy · 5 months ago

Note

hello!

I sent a request some time ago but not sure if you saw it 💞could you do one where the reader is the one infected with anthrax instead of reid? maybe they are already a official couple? or not- whichever is fine. Fluffy at the end 💞bonus points for Hotch worried for both of them

Thanks love!

anthrax — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: reader is infected with anthrax , mention of being dizzy and exhausted , mention of fever, mention of nasal cannula, reader passing out , reader ends up in hospital a/n: hiii!!! i'm so sorry it took so long <3 also i rewatched the scenes on youtube ( instead of the entire ep ) so if i got something wrong i'm vv sorry !! hope you like this :)

Spencer frowned, mid-sentence, his words faltering. "What do—" He turned instinctively, expecting to see you beside him. But you weren’t there.

His stomach twisted as he spun in place, scanning the area. Derek was a few steps away on the sidewalk, wearing the same confused expression. You had been right there just moments ago.

Then Spencer's gaze snapped to the house. The front door was swinging shut.

He surged forward, reaching the door just as it latched shut. His hands pressed flat against the wood before he fumbled with the handle, rattling it frantically.

“Hey! What are you doing?” His voice wavered as he rattled the door handle, his hazel eyes wide with panic. He could see you clearly through the glass pane.

Derek was right behind him now. “Open the door. What the hell are you doing?” His voice was demanding, but Spencer could hear the underlying fear laced in it.

That’s when he saw it.

The small, shattered vial on the floor.

Tiny, glimmering shards of broken glass spread across the tile, barely catching the light. But Spencer didn't care about the glass—he cared about what had been inside of it.

Anthrax.

The realization hit him like a freight train. His mind, always so quick, always analyzing, now felt sluggish, as though he were processing everything in slow motion.

The room you were in had been compromised. You had inhaled it.

“No,” Spencer whispered, shaking his head in disbelief.

His hands pressed against the cool surface of the glass, as if he could reach through it and pull you back to him. Derek muttered a curse under his breath, his jaw tightening, but even he knew—there was nothing either of them could do. Not right now.

You swallowed hard, blinking up at Spencer. He could see the fear in your eyes, the resignation settling in.

"I’m sorry," you murmured.

A lump formed in his throat. His fingers curled into fists against the door.

“Don’t. Don’t say that.” His voice cracked. “You’re going to be okay. We can fix this. We can—”

Your lips trembled, and though you tried to smile, it faltered.

Spencer had never felt so helpless in his entire life. His mind screamed at him to think, to find a solution, to do something.But for the first time, he had no answer.

And that terrified him.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed. Minutes? An hour? The room felt both too hot and too cold at the same time. Your head rested against the door, your body slumped slightly as exhaustion settled into your bones. You weren’t in pain, but you felt weak—like all the energy had slowly been draining out of you.

Through the glass, Spencer was still there.

He hadn’t moved an inch.

Derek had tried—more than once—to get him to step away, but Spencer refused. His back was pressed against the door, his knees pulled up as he sat on the floor, staring at you like if he blinked, you might disappear entirely.

“I’m not leaving,” he had said, voice quiet. And that was that.

You exhaled softly, letting your fingers trace invisible patterns against the cool surface of the glass. Spencer noticed immediately. His gaze flickered to your hand, then back to your face.

“You’re sweating,” he murmured, concern evident in every syllable.

You gave a small, lopsided smile. “Yeah. I guess breathing in bioweapons does that to a person.”

Spencer frowned. “That’s not funny.”

“Little funny,” you teased, tilting your head to look at him.

He sighed, but you could see the slight twitch of his lips, like he wanted to scold you and smile at the same time.

A comfortable silence settled between you two, despite the chaos unfolding around you.

“You’re okay,” he said suddenly, more to himself than to you. “Your symptoms aren’t progressing rapidly. That’s… that’s a good sign.”

You raised a brow. “You’re diagnosing me through a glass door now, Doctor Reid?”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Actually, rapid-onset symptoms from inhalation of anthrax typically appear within a few hours. Since you’re only experiencing mild weakness and slight sweating, it’s possible that the exposure was minimal. And if that’s the case, early treatment should be highly effective—”

“Spence,” you interrupted gently.

He stopped rambling.

Your voice was softer this time. “I know you’re scared.”

His eyes darted away for a split second, but then he sighed and met your gaze again. “Of course I am,” he admitted. “I—” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair before resting his palm against the door, mirroring your position. “I can’t lose you.”

Warmth spread through your chest, even as your body trembled slightly from exhaustion.

“You won’t.”

You weren’t sure if it was the truth or just something to comfort him, but you needed him to believe it. And maybe, just maybe, you needed to believe it, too.

Spencer took a slow, shaky breath. “Just… keep talking to me, okay? Stay awake.”

You smiled. “Only if you promise to stay with me.”

His eyes softened, his fingers twitching slightly against the glass.

“I promise.”

Your body felt heavier now. The exhaustion was creeping in faster than before, and you could see the way Spencer’s expression kept shifting—his mind was racing, cataloging every symptom, analyzing every possible outcome. You knew what he was doing. He was trying to calculate how much time you had, how bad it would get.

You couldn’t let him spiral.

“Spence,” you said, voice softer than before. You blinked a few times, trying to focus, forcing yourself to sit up straighter. He immediately caught on, his hands pressing against the glass like he could hold you up through sheer willpower alone.

“I’m here,” he reassured, but his voice was tight.

You gave him a small, tired smile. “Do you remember our first date?”

Spencer’s forehead creased. “Why—why are you bringing that up right now?”

“Because I want to talk about something good,” you murmured, tilting your head slightly, “and because I want you to stop staring at me like I’m a math equation with a really bad solution.”

Spencer’s lips parted like he wanted to argue, but then he let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “That’s not how I look at you.”

“Little bit,” you teased.

He sighed, but his shoulders relaxed—just a fraction. “Of course I remember our first date.”

You smiled, waiting for him to continue. He shifted slightly, his eyes flickering over you, still scanning, still worried. But he played along, just like you wanted.

“I was terrified,” he admitted after a beat.

Your brows lifted. “You were terrified?”

“More than you could ever imagine,” he said, his lips twitching at the memory. “I had wanted to ask you out for months, but every time I got close, I chickened out. Then one day, you just—”

“I made the first move,” you finished for him, grinning.

Spencer rolled his eyes but smiled despite himself. “You didn’t ask me out. You just—assumed we were going on a date.”

You laughed, though it was weaker than usual. “Because I knew you wanted to. You weren’t exactly subtle.”

“I thought I was,” Spencer muttered.

“You were not.”

His cheeks flushed slightly, and even though you felt awful, you still found the energy to appreciate how endearing he was. “Okay, fine. But that didn’t make the date any less nerve-wracking.”

You hummed. “Yeah? What part was the worst?”

Spencer barely hesitated. “When I spilled coffee all over my shirt before we even sat down.”

You giggled, your fingers tapping lightly against the glass. “I remember that. You looked so horrified.”

“I was mortified,” he corrected. “And then you just… laughed. Not at me, but—you laughed like it was the best thing that had happened all day.”

You grinned. “Because it was adorable. You were so worried about being perfect, but I already liked you, Spence. The coffee disaster just made you even cuter.”

Spencer exhaled a slow breath, his eyes studying you. The warmth of the memory had softened the tension in his face, but not entirely. “I didn’t think you could like me back,” he admitted quietly. “Not like that.”

Your chest ached—not from the anthrax, but from him.

You pressed your palm against the glass, mirroring his. “I always liked you. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”

Spencer let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “God, I love you.”

Your breath hitched, just slightly. Even though you’d heard those words before, they always felt brand new coming from him. You let them settle in your heart.

“Good,” you whispered, your eyelids growing heavier. “Because I really, really love you too.”

Spencer noticed immediately. The slight droop in your posture, the way your blinks lasted just a second too long. His body tensed.

“No, hey, stay with me,” he urged, his voice sharper now. “You have to stay awake.”

You forced a smile, tilting your head against the door. “I’m still here, Spence. Just a little tired.”

Spencer’s jaw clenched. He turned his head sharply toward the nearest agent. “Where the hell is the medical team?”

“They’re almost here,” someone answered.

“Not fast enough,” Spencer muttered under his breath before looking back at you. His fingers curled into fists against the glass. “You have to stay with me.”

“I will,” you promised, though you weren’t entirely sure you had a say in it.

Spencer sucked in a shaky breath, forcing himself to stay calm. “Tell me more about our first date.”

You blinked up at him. “You remember it all.”

“Tell me anyway.” His voice cracked.

You swallowed, nodding slightly. “Okay,” you whispered, gripping onto his voice like a lifeline. “We got ice cream after coffee. You ordered vanilla.”

Spencer exhaled a small laugh. “It was the safest option.”

“And then I let you try mine, and you hated it.”

“It was mango,” he scoffed. “It tasted like… tropical regret.”

You giggled again, your body sagging just slightly more against the door. Spencer noticed. His fingers twitched like he wanted to reach through the glass and pull you up, hold you steady.

“Keep going,” he urged desperately.

You blinked. “We… we sat at the park for hours.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded sleepily. “You kept talking about stars.”

Spencer swallowed thickly. “Because I wanted to impress you.”

“You already had.” You smiled softly, the memory flickering in your mind like an old film reel.

"Do you remember the first time you told me you loved me?"

Spencer's lips parted, his brows knitting together as he searched his mind. He was stalling.

"You do," you teased, your voice barely above a whisper. "You just don’t want to admit how ridiculous it was."

A faint blush crept up his neck. "It wasn’t ridiculous."

You let out a weak chuckle. "Spence. You said it because you were delirious from a fever."

Spencer groaned, tipping his head back against the door for a brief second before looking at you again. "It still counts," he muttered defensively.

You grinned, the exhaustion pressing heavy on your limbs, but you fought to stay awake—if only to see the way his ears turned pink at the memory.

"You were so stubborn," you mused. "You refused to admit you were sick, and then, the second I forced you to lay down, you grabbed my hand and just—"

"I love you," Spencer murmured, finishing the sentence before you could.

You blinked at him.

"You didn’t even remember saying it the next morning," you reminded him, smiling despite the heaviness weighing down on you.

Spencer huffed. "That part was unfortunate."

"I don’t know," you teased. "I kind of liked getting to tell you that you'd confessed your love to me in the middle of a fever dream."

Spencer let out a breathy laugh, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. His fingers twitched against the glass, his entire body taut with barely restrained panic.

"Tell me more," he said suddenly.

You blinked. "About what?"

"Anything. Everything. Just keep talking."

He was trying to keep you awake.

You knew it.

But you didn’t argue.

You smiled softly and whispered, "Okay," before slipping into another story, your voice carrying through the glass like a lifeline. Spencer held onto every single word.

At some point, though, Spencer had to move when the medical team came rushing in. You barely registered it—just the sound of frantic voices, the distant feeling of your body being dragged into motion. You were barely holding on, your eyes fluttering shut despite Spencer calling your name.

Then—

Water. Cold, drenching, shocking.

You remembered that much. The hazmat team had hosed you down. There was vague, fleeting awareness—Spencer shouting at someone about being gentle with you, the sting of something against your skin, and then—

You were drenched, clothes clinging to your frame, hair plastered to your face, looking equal parts miserable and very out of it.

Then—nothing.

When you woke up, everything felt… hazy. Heavy. Your body ached, your limbs stiff as if you’d been asleep for days. A nasal cannula rested under your nose, cool oxygen flowing through it, making each breath feel easier.

You blinked slowly, adjusting to the hospital room. The beeping of monitors filled the space, and—

Spencer.

He was sitting in the chair beside your bed, staring into the air, his hands clasped together tightly. His eyes were shadowed with exhaustion, his usually neat curls disheveled, his clothes wrinkled like he hadn’t moved in hours.

“Spencer?”

Your voice came out hoarse, barely more than a whisper, but the second it reached him, he jolted upright. His head snapped toward you, his breath catching in his throat as he stood so quickly the chair scraped against the floor.

For a moment, he just stared down at you, his hazel eyes wide, disbelieving—like he wasn’t sure if you were real or if his mind was playing some cruel trick on him.

Then, in a rush, his hand was on yours, gripping tightly, his fingers trembling slightly.

“You’re awake,” he breathed, like he had been holding those words in his chest for hours.

You tried to smile, but your lips barely moved. “Hey, Spence.”

He let out a choked breath, his free hand pushing through his hair, trying to keep himself together.

“You—God, you scared me,” he whispered, his voice raw.

Your fingers twitched against his, a weak attempt to squeeze his hand. “Sorry.”

Spencer let out something between a laugh and a sigh, shaking his head. “Don’t. Don’t apologize.”

There was a beat of silence, and then you gestured vaguely toward the hospital bed. “So… can I get a hug, or are you just going to stand there looking like a lost puppy?”

Spencer hesitated, his eyes flickering to the monitors and wires surrounding you. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Spencer, I’m not made of glass. Hug me.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. He leaned down carefully, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle embrace. You sighed, melting into him, your face buried in the crook of his neck. He smelled like coffee and antiseptic, and his shirt was wrinkled beyond repair, but you didn’t care.

“I was so scared,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your hair.

You tightened your grip on him as much as your weakened body would allow. “I know. But I’m okay. Thanks to you.”

Spencer pulled back slightly, his brows furrowed. “Me? I didn’t do anything.”

“You stayed with me,” you said simply, your voice soft. “That’s not nothing.”

Spencer’s eyes softened, and he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering for a moment. “I told you I wasn’t leaving.”

“And you didn’t,” you said, smiling up at him, though your smile wavered slightly as you noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion.

You watched him carefully, taking in every little detail—the way his fingers curled tightly around yours, the lingering fear in his eyes, the exhaustion weighing down his entire body. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“How long?” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Spencer swallowed hard, his gaze flickering away for a moment before meeting yours again. “20 hours.”

Your chest tightened. No wonder he looked like he hadn’t slept.

“You stayed?” you asked, though you already knew the answer.

He let out a soft, breathy laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Of course I did.”

You let his words settle over you, the warmth of them sinking into your skin. Slowly, you turned your hand, just enough to thread your fingers through his. His grip tightened instantly.

“I’m okay,” you murmured, your voice steady despite the fatigue pulling at you.

Spencer exhaled shakily, nodding, but his eyes betrayed him—he was still scared.

“Yeah,” he whispered, squeezing your hand like he needed to convince himself. “You are.” And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he finally let himself believe it.

The door creaked open, and both of you turned to see Hotch stepping into the room. His usual stoic expression softened slightly as his eyes landed on you.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of relief. “How are you feeling?”

You managed a small smile. “Like I got hit by a truck, but… I’ll live.”

Hotch nodded, his gaze flickering to Spencer for a moment before returning to you. “You gave us quite the scare.”

“Sorry about that,” you said, your tone light. “I’ll try to avoid inhaling bioweapons in the future.”

Hotch’s lips twitched, the closest thing to a smile you were likely to get from him. “I’d appreciate that.” He paused, his expression growing more serious. “The medical team said you’re responding well to treatment.”

You nodded, feeling a small weight lift off your chest. “That’s good to hear.”

Hotch glanced at Spencer again, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the young agent’s disheveled appearance. “Reid, when was the last time you slept?”

Spencer blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I, uh… I’m not sure.”

Hotch sighed. “Go home. Get some rest. I’ll stay with her.”

Spencer shook his head immediately, his grip on your hand tightening. “No. I’m not leaving.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow. “You’re no good to anyone if you collapse from exhaustion. Go home, shower, eat something, and then you can come back.”

Spencer opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off.

“He’s right, Spence,” you said softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “You look like you’re about to fall over. Go take care of yourself. I’ll still be here when you get back.”

Spencer hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he finally relented with a sigh. “Fine. But I’m coming back as soon as I can.”

You smiled. “I’d expect nothing less.”

Hotch stepped aside as Spencer reluctantly stood, his movements slow and stiff. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before straightening up and heading for the door.

Once he was gone, Hotch moved closer to your bed. “He didn’t leave your side the entire time,” he said quietly. “Not even when the medical team told him to.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, but you swallowed it down, nodding. “I know.”

Hotch studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “You’re important to him. To all of us. Take care of yourself.”

You smiled faintly. “I will. Thanks, Hotch.”

He nodded once, his usual stoic demeanor returning. “Get some rest. I’ll be outside if you need anything.”

As he left the room, you leaned back against the pillows, letting out a long breath, as you fell asleep once again.

And when Spencer returned an hour later, looking significantly more put together and carrying a cup of coffee for you (decaf, because he insisted), you couldn’t help but smile.

“Miss me?” he asked, setting the coffee on the table beside your bed.

“Always,” you said, reaching for his hand.

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x you #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic

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divinesangel · 7 months ago

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— random details about your future spouse [PAC]

pm me for an affordable, in-depth personal reading! — 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞!

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏

they've been through some stuff and came out the other side with a calm, steady mindset. they're the type who doesn't get easily shaken or overwhelmed by life’s challenges.

when things get hectic or stressful, they stay chill and don’t panic. they can handle chaos without losing their cool, making them someone you can rely on in tough situations.

they’re not the type to rush into things. they like to take things slow, think things through, and make sure they’re making the right moves, whether it’s in relationships, work, or life decisions.

they probably have a strong sense of family and respect for long-held values. they believe in things like loyalty, commitment, and honoring what came before, whether that’s family traditions or their own personal principles.

they’re either spiritual or have a strong personal philosophy that guides their life. they probably reflect on the bigger picture and have a deep understanding of their own purpose or place in the world.

they're not afraid to step out of their comfort zone. they love exploring new places, trying new things, and keeping life exciting. they can be spontaneous and enjoy breaking out of routines.

always thinking outside the box. they might have a knack for coming up with new ideas or solutions, whether it’s in their work, hobbies, or just life in general. they love expressing themselves in unique ways.

they don’t take shortcuts. they put in the effort and grind steadily toward their goals, even if it takes time. they understand that success is built on consistent work and dedication.

you can count on them, no questions asked. they keep their promises and show up when they say they will, whether it’s for something big or small. they’re the kind of person you can trust with anything.

they’ve got their finances together. they don’t live paycheck to paycheck, and they know how to manage money responsibly. they’ve probably built a secure foundation for themselves and are smart about financial decisions.

once they’re in, they’re in for the long haul. they’re fiercely loyal and protective of the people they love. they’ll stand by your side through thick and thin, and you’ll always know they’ve got your back no matter what.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

they’ve been through some tough stuff before (like heartbreak or betrayal), and they’re still working on getting over it. they’re in a process of healing, so they might be a bit cautious when it comes to love, but they’re definitely growing through it.

at times, they might feel a little lost or unsure about where they’re headed. they’re working on figuring things out, but they can get stuck in their head, trying to make the right choices. they may need a bit of time to get their confidence back before moving forward with big decisions.

they used to hold onto things too tightly, whether it was their money, their emotions, or their need to control everything. but now, they’re realizing they need to loosen up a bit and trust the process. they’re getting better at letting go of the things they can’t control.

they care a lot about building something real and secure for the future. they’re the kind of person who’s thinking about their career, their finances, and how to make sure they’ve got a strong foundation. they’re not into quick fixes; they’re focused on what lasts.

they can get caught up in the “what ifs” and feel like there are too many options to choose from. they might struggle with indecision or fantasizing about all the possibilities instead of making moves. they’re learning to focus and stop overthinking everything.

they’re someone who’s always looking for fresh starts. they might be starting a new chapter in their life—whether it’s career, relationships, or just personal growth. they’re focused on making things better and are always willing to work toward something new and more secure.

they’re ambitious and want more for themselves. they’re standing at a crossroads, thinking about what the next step looks like. they’re starting to plan ahead, but they’re also trying to figure out what path is the right one for them.

they’re soft-hearted and sensitive, not afraid to show their feelings. they’re the type to express their emotions and be vulnerable with the people they trust. they’re also really intuitive and can pick up on how others are feeling, offering emotional support when needed.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

they’re someone who’s got their life together and doesn’t rely on others to feel secure. they’re proud of what they’ve built and enjoy the rewards of their hard work. they’re confident in their own abilities and don’t need validation from anyone else.

they know that good things take time. they’re not into rushing through life but are all about putting in the work and letting things grow naturally. they’re all about steady progress and building something real and long-lasting.

sometimes they feel unsure of themselves, especially when things aren’t going as planned. they may have moments of questioning their strength or abilities. they’re still figuring out how to trust themselves fully, but they’re working through it.

they can be a little guarded, especially when it comes to their emotions or what they’ve worked hard for. they like to keep control, but they’re learning to let go and trust more. it’s a process, but they’re getting there.

they’re the type of person who handles life with a lot of maturity. they take responsibility seriously and know how to manage their finances, their career, and their relationships in a practical way. they don’t take shortcuts.

they can be hard to read sometimes, and their emotions are deeper than they let on. they’re intuitive and sensitive, but they often keep their feelings under wraps. they might struggle to fully express what they’re going through, but they’re working on understanding themselves better.

they don’t like rushing into decisions. they’ll spend a lot of time weighing out their options and might even avoid making tough choices altogether. they want to make sure they’re doing the right thing, but they can get stuck in overthinking.

when they finally make up their mind, they’re sharp, direct, and won’t hesitate to go after what they want. they’re all about clarity and truth, and once they’re sure about something, they’re confident in their actions.

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 !

hi! it's daphne here.

i'm currently offering personal readings for €8 and soulmate readings for €15 so don't hesitate to send me a private message if you're interested!

thank you for being here!

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reasonsforhope · 3 months ago

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"Calling it “a fridge to bridge the world,” the Thermavault can use different combinations of salts to keep the contents at temperatures just above freezing or below it. Some vaccines require regular kitchen fridge temps, while others, or even transplant organs, need to be kept below freezing, meaning this versatility is a big advantage for the product’s overall market demand.

Dhruv Chaudhary, Mithran Ladhania, and Mridul Jain are all children of physicians or medical field workers in the [city] of Indore. Seeing how difficult it was to keep COVID-19 vaccines viable en route to countryside villages hours outside city centers in tropical heat, they wanted to create a better, portable solution to keeping medical supplies cool.

Because salt molecules dissolve in water, the charged ions that make up the salt molecules break apart. However, this separation requires energy, which is taken in the form of heat from the water, cooling it down.

Though the teen team knew this, it remained a challenge to find which kind of salt would have the optimal set of characteristics. Though sodium chloride—our refined table salt—is what we think of when we hear the word “salt,” there are well over one-hundred different chemical compounds that classify as salt.

“While we did scour through the entire internet to find the best salt possible, we kind of just ended up back to our ninth-grade science textbook,” Chaudhary told Business Insider.

Indeed, the professors at the lab in the Indian Institutes of Technology where they were testing Thermavault’s prototype were experimenting with two different salts which ended up being the best available options, a discovery made after the three teens tested another 20, none of which proved viable.

These were barium hydroxide octahydrate and ammonium chloride. The ammonium chloride alone, when dissolved, cooled the water to between 2 and 6 degrees Celsius (about 35 to 43 degrees Fahrenheit) perfect for many vaccines, while a dash of barium hydroxide octahydrate dropped that temperature to below freezing.

“We have been able to keep the vaccines inside the Thermavault for almost 10 to 12 hours,” Dr. Pritesh Vyas, an orthopedic surgeon who tested the device at V One hospital in Indore, said in a video on the Thermavault website.

Designing a prototype, the teens have already tested it in local hospitals, and are in the process of assembling another 200 for the purpose of testing them in 120 hospitals around Indore to produce the best possible scope of use and utility data for a product launch.

Their ingenuity and imagination won them the 2025 Earth Prize, which came with a $12,500 reward needed for this mass testing phase."

-via Good News Network, April 22, 2025

#india #asia #medical news #public health #chemistry #vaccines #vaccination #hospitals #inventors #good news #hope

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l00kingatthem00n · 3 months ago

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uum hi can i please have um,,, mafioso and sleepwalker reader,, it doesn't have to be romantic or really long i just think itd be nice if the sleepwalker was having a rough day and mafioso comforts them a little,,,,,, 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

━━ TRUSTING YOU.

WARNINGS: depictions of general sickness and nausea, mentions and implications of throwing up / vomiting - let me know if there's anything else, i've missed.

An unexpected kindness from an unassuming individual. You wouldn't think he'd be capable of such, especially when you're at your worst. And yet, here you are, within the seclusion of the dying mall as the Mafioso himself allows you grace.

THE DREAMSPHERE IS SPINNING. Droplets of cold sweat begin on your neck, then down your palms and then down your spine. Your knees are going weak, desperately shambling to the wall in need of support. Your jaw uncomfortably tightens, as if the bones there are about to snap with any more pressure you put on. Weakened, exhausted, your body slumps against the cold wall. It feels awful against your scorching body, but if you don’t find something to stand with then you are going to be splayed across linoleum. You were supposed to be anywhere but this damn mall, supposed to escape those relentless soldiers, now you’ve walked right into their maws.

Unpleasant, overwhelming. Your teeth grate, clink, grind. A shrill sound alongside the mechanical whirring of the fluorescent lights. It becomes a conscious effort to breathe, a subconscious process painfully manual. You can feel the chords of your throat constrict then release with every strangled attempt to take in oxygen. You try to follow the agonizing rhythm of breathing: in, shallow, out. It’s harder when it feels like there’s a lump there too. You try to swallow— Again, again, again —like it’ll really do anything. Maybe, you can sweeten yourself with the lie though. Regardless, you’re not sure whether all this is from flu, fear, or both.

Eventually, the effort that went into trying to stand is put into soothing your sinking body. As such, you slowly slip down the frigid concrete walls and find yourself sitting on the tiled floors. For as maddening as you feel, though, your mind wanders elsewhere. Your gaze roves over your surroundings. You’re secluded. Therefore, you should be safe. Beneath the cover of the shadows, as long as you’re silent, then you won’t have to worry about them finding you in this state. Thanks to your sloppy swordsmanship, you’ve managed to survive even with your sorry well-being. With how far you are, though, along with your ‘monetary problem,’ you’ll have to make the less-than-leisurely stroll back. It’s fine. Your body may feel untrustworthy to function, but you’ve got your smarts. You hope you do, anyway.

You clasp your hand over your mouth. Your throat burns with the threat of bile. Frequent attempts to swallow the solution haven’t worked yet, so maybe you need something digested to emulsify its presence. Curling against yourself, you rest your worn satchel on your lap. As quietly as you can, you shuffle through the loose items to find something that could work. In the clutter, there’s a cooling sensation against your fingertips. Soda. That could work, hopefully. With trembling hands, your shallow breaths resound throughout your ears as you pry open the soda tab. A hissing joins the cacophony, loud enough that you’re too lost in your frantic world to notice heavy footsteps. Then, a voice calls for you; Low, authoritative, unreal.

“Rabbit.”

Fuck.

That’s their Don. That’s her right hand. That’s Il Mafioso. Despite your shaking, you frantically pull yourself up. The soda that you were about to drink uselessly clatters to the floor, carbonated liquid sliding across the linoleum tiles. From your satchel, you pull the sword and make a weak stance to protect yourself. You don’t know whether it’s an insult to your skill or that the Mafioso is above using any weapons, standing before you with his arms folded behind his chest. You click your tongue.

“What do you want!?” An attempt to sound assertive; You exclaim, “If it’s about the debt, then can’t you just wait a moment?! I just- I just need some more time, I’ll get it dealt with.”

Mafioso stands, unwavering and unyielding, even as you try to rouse a reaction from him. You furrow your brows. You want to be loud. Though it feels like if you try to raise your volume, you will be expelling the bile that’s been threatening your body for all this time. Curse this stupid nausea, curse those stupid soldiers.

“I don’t mean harm, rabbit,” He tries to explain with a tilt of his head, “You make an important point about your debts, however.”

“Don’t sweeten me up, don't get me to trust you, if you’re going to try and kill me, then I’d like to see you try.”

He sharply exhales through his nose, something akin to expressing his irritation.

“I assure you that is not the case. You and I would have been fighting by now,” Mafioso vaguely gestures to your frame. “Besides, you look sorry. I wouldn’t get much enjoyment from handling you while you’re so weak.”

Ow. You would think a man made of dreams would have some decency. Does he even know that words hurt?

“Geez, thanks,” You point your sword towards him. “Doesn’t matter though, I bet you’re applying some psychological bullshit right now– You got a hidden weapon or something?”

After your provocation, it is almost hilariously hasty how Mafioso tosses a blade hidden within his trench coat. It clatters unceremoniously onto the ground, somewhere near your spilled soda. While it’s reassuring, you’re not exactly convinced that’s the only weapon he has hidden. It might be because of the sickening sensations that are surging through you, although you’re a little inclined to believe he’s got an implement hidden in his fedora or in the sole of his shoe. You don’t exactly want to press any further about it. Maybe, he'll actually use it on you, and you’ll be waking up with that ridiculous sign on you. With some contemplation, you purse your lips together before sighing resignedly. The point of your sword lowers. Gracefully, you spin the blade and press the pointed tip into the floor. You shift your weight onto its handle.

“...Okay. I’ll believe you,” You tilt your head to the side. “Again, what do you want?”

“Do I have to explain everything to you? What answers must I give you to satisfy you?”

“Something good, you’re not exactly the most friendly guy.”

Mafioso clicks his tongue.

“Fine. Then, I’m curious.”

“Curious? That’s the best you got?”

“Should I change my mind, rabbit? Would you like to pick up that sword, and we’ll see how that goes?”

You go quiet. Despite the shadows cast upon his face, you can sense an annoyed brow raised for you.

“Fine. Whatever.” You sigh, “Are you done now? Can you leave me alone?”

Most likely, a little unwisely, you turn your head away from Mafioso. Your hands rummage through your bag once more, searching for something to substitute your spilled soda. And with his silent steps, you don’t notice that he closes any possible distance between the two of you. You have some inclination to trust that he’s not seizing your vulnerability to take a stab at you. He’s uncomfortably close, but he hasn’t tried anything. Awkward, you blink at him.

“I insist you don’t take this the wrong way,” He says, and your gaze narrows while he undoes the buttons his heavy trench coat. “But, you’re typically not this sloppy to get hurt that easily.

“Are you alright?”

“Uhm.” You lie through your teeth, “I’m alright.”

You think Mafioso seems to see straight through your lies, though. It’s a little unsettling how silent he is now. You wouldn’t say he’s talkative, not like some of his soldiers are. But, you don’t think he’s exactly too quiet either. From experience, you’re certain you’ve heard some colourful insults directed towards others– Sometimes, unfortunately, you. Nevertheless, you can’t exactly dispel the unease that he’s casting upon you. It’s already atrocious as it adds onto the already present unease within your guts. It’d be nice if he was considerate of your feelings. At least enough not to make you so apprehensive.

He’s only strolling towards you, but it feels so menacing and intimidating. Maybe it’s because of his visage constantly casted by shadow, any distinct features become obscured beneath the darkness. Maybe it’s his almost surreal qualities, with his trench coat dragging across the floor and allowing strange wisps of dark fog. Or maybe it’s his less than approachable character as the fiercely devoted right hand of Eunoia, for whoever crosses her, crosses him by proxy. Mafioso is the making of a terrifyingly dutiful man. That’s why, of course, you swallow thickly while he slips off his trench coat.

Truthfully, it’s ridiculous to be so nervous about someone taking off their coat. But, this is Mafioso. You’re half-expecting that his trench coat is an entrance to another layer of the Dreamsphere where he can finally fold you in half for your debts. You have half the heart to wield your sword again and rush him, to at least try and get some advantage if that’s the case. Though you still have your trust in him, so you don’t. And maybe that was for the better, for Mafioso unexpectedly drapes his coat around your shoulders. The fabric and fur is warm against your frame. It feels more like a weighted blanket, less of a clothing article. How comforting.

Then, unexpectedly again, Mafioso pulls off one of his gloves. From the slight sight of his skin, you can make out countless calluses and scars. They’re rough, most likely from his work within the mafia. Gently, almost kindly, he pushes any loose strands of hair away from your face. You lean away from his touch, partially because you’re still inclined to believe that he’s going to knock your teeth out. Instead, he rests the back of his hand against your forehead before clicking his tongue unsatisfactorily.

“Ah, no wonder,” He muses. “You’re burning up.”

“Oh.”

He slips his glove back on and hums, “I suggest you take the walk back. I’ll ensure my men don’t bother you.”

“Aren’t you being awfully nice?”

“Don’t think too hard about it,” Mafioso quickly quips. “It’s more exciting to go after you when you’ve got your wits, not when I'm challenging a corpse.”

You light-heartedly roll your eyes at him, a soft chuckle following. “If you insist.”

With your trembling hands, you adjust his trench coat more comfortably around your shoulders. A gentle smile curling across your lips in spite of the weakness of your body.

“Thank you, by the way.”

Mafioso scoffs as he begins to walk away. You don’t get to discern what expression he could be making as he does, only finally hearing the click of his heels with each step. You’re left standing in that shaded area by your lonesome once more. You can only think how strange this sudden fond gesture of his is. Though, you suppose you’ll take any opportunity not to plunge further into debt. You can’t imagine how trifling that would be to pay off.

You take a deep breath. Cheap cigarettes, expensive cologne, and roasted coffee beans fill your lungs as you do. The scent of his coat is strangely comforting, even with all that has happened between the two of you. You find yourself clutching it more securely around yourself. And as you leave your hiding spot, you realize something important.

How are you supposed to return this to him?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i love mafioso i love him i love him i love him LELELELE 👅👅👅👅 i mean, wow guys! how are you! i hope you're doing splendid! haha!

IN ALL SERIOUSNESS, i hope everyone is doing okay :) sorry for the lack of ...Anything, i know i said i would not have this blog be priority but its fun to be here i find LOL. but i've got school and stuff so Man.

i am actually very fond of this one-shot. however, my biggest problem was the characterization. FOR A GUY who as a decent amount of voicelines tht says stuff about who he is as a person...It's very hard to make a personality for him? like all i can envision is. Just a working machine so it made writing this really hard </3

#sfw #dream game #dream game x reader #frozen soul #mafioso frozen soul x reader #frozen soul x reader #mafioso x reader #mafioso dream game x reader #roblox x reader

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