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#and don’t think about how you tried to force yourself to be intimate with someone and ended up completely freezing going mute
gloomwitchwrites · 2 months
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Omg!! Think you can do the opposite version of the hickey ask? Where the guys notice a hickey and get all jealous n’ pissy🤩 i love it & your writing🥰
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Ha! Anon, you have me giggling and kicking my feet. The hickey ask anon is talking about can be found HERE, but I absolutely love the idea of doing the opposite. Instead of a hickey on one of the guys, it's on reader. hehe. (oh god I need to go touch grass or maybe use my teeth to the mow the lawn right now because I am salivating).
Presented in four double drabbles.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, possessive behavior, rough kissing, secret relationships, suggestive themes, jealousy
Word Count: 800
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price
John’s grip on your upper arm is a vice.
“Don’t walk away from me,” he says, voice low.
“Let go, John,” you snap. “You’re going to cause a scene.”
“Am I?” he counters. “Everyone’s already been talking. You’re showing that thing off on your neck like you’re proud of it.”
“Maybe I am,” you reply. “Why do you care?”
With a quick tug, John plasters you against him. His body is all heat and muscle. Everything in you ramps up, becomes wanton. It remembers him.
“Who the fuck touched what’s mine?” he asks in a hoarse whisper.
You swallow. Shake your head. “I’m not yours, John. You always push me away.”
John’s lips come dangerously close to yours. “Tell me who touched you.”
“You did. Don’t you remember?”
You feel him freeze, as if his mind and body are frozen as he tries to recall what happened. The two of you had been drinking when you slid into his lap.
John closes the distance, stealing a kiss that is more possession than anything else. The sensation goes straight down to your toes, and pools between your thighs.
“Come back to my office.”
“John—”
“I want to recreate last night.”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“No. No. Don’t walk away from me.”
Kyle’s hand grips your wrist. He tugs, pulling you back in his direction. Kyle is right there, standing so close, head bent forward with intimacy that sinks down into your soul and shatters everything you are.
You cannot resist this man. Never.
“I don’t understand why you’re acting this way, Kyle.”
Kyle grasps the side of your face, his thumb pressing down on your bottom lip. “Because someone marked you. I want to know who it is.”
Does he not know? Does Kyle not remember?
Kyle licks his lips and you follow the movement, remembering how he tasted last night.
“Tell me who it is. I just want to talk to them. Set them straight.”
You laugh and Kyle frowns.
“You’ll be talking to yourself,” you reply.
His mouth opens. Closes. Kyle’s hand drops away from your face to settle on your shoulder, fingers delicately tracing the mark on your neck.
“I did this?” he asks, almost absently.
“You did,” you affirm, heat rising to your cheeks. “Last night.”
Kyle smirks. His gaze roams upward, meeting your own. “Want me to give you a few more? Doesn’t have to be on your neck.”
John "Soap" MacTavish
“Oh, love. What’s this?”
You lean away but Johnny is quick. He corners you, pressing you into the wall. He’s smiling, but you can see the underlying irritation. His gaze roams all over your body.
“Need something?” you bite, knowing that if the two of you linger here too long, someone will come looking or accidently happen upon you.
It’s not like Johnny is being discreet. He has one knee between your legs, and a hand on your hip. It’s a possessively intimate embrace, and it reminds you of all the things the two of you did last night.
“Aye. I do actually.” Johnny lightly pinches the mark on your neck and you flinch.
“What the fuck?”
“Who gave you that?”
You blink. “What?”
“The fucking hickey. Tell me so I can beat their fucking face bloody.”
You roll your eyes and Johnny pinches you again.
“Stop that.”
“Tell me.”
“You’ll be fighting yourself, Johnny.”
Johnny’s demeanor completely changes, becoming a sultry thing that swirls pleasure deep in your belly. This time he doesn’t pinch. He leans in, running his tongue along the mark. When he pulls back, he grasps you tight, pressing his lips to yours, stealing all breath.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
“You’re mine,” growls Simon as he picks you up and sets you on top of your desk.
You have no space to argue. Simon is already kissing you. Nipping your lips. Drawing forth a bit of blood to suck into his mouth.
“I know,” you whimper as his hand squeezes your thigh, dragging you to the edge of the desk. His hardness grinds against you, and you moan.
“If you know, then tell me why someone else has marked what’s fucking mine.” Simon grasps the back of your neck, drawing you back, and holding firm. Your fingers claw at the front of his shirt.
“What are you talking about?”
Simon growls. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
You blink. Completely confused. “You gave this to me.”
Simon says nothing. He just stares. “Last night.” You shrug. “I mean we drank a lot but fuck. Thought you’d remember that.”
Simon gently eases his hand from your neck. “I don’t. But you know what that means, love?”
You suck on your bottom lip, tasting a bit of blood that Simon coaxed to the surface. “What?”
“Just means I need to give you a few more. As reminders. For you. And others.”
taglist:
@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath
@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett
@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82
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ja3yun · 4 months
Text
The Doll House | Alt. Ending
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warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (f.rec), fingering, pussy slapping, overstimulation, !dark content! murder, possession, blood, manipulation, lots of mentions to hell, soul selling, please read the a/n wc: 14.3k heeseung (true ending) | masterlist synopsis: once heeseung sells you an offer you can't refuse, it's up to you to reap what you sow. sooyeol's return and revelations put your world in wonder as you contemplate the implications of your greed and who you truly are a/n: hi! this is a highly requested alternate ending to tdh! this takes place just after heeseung offers y/n to sell her soul in his chapter (pls read that first before this!), i hope this is what you guys wanted! i had so much fun writing it so i hope you enjoy reading it <3 there's a twist in this one that might be confusing but i think i have explained it thoroughly enough but as always, feel free to ask for clarification. likes, reblogs, comments, and feedback are all welcome <3
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"If you want this life," he starts, his stare fixed on you, "Let me give it to you." He promises you the future your spirit so desperately desires with a voice that is both powerful and supple, promising support and unfaltering devotion.
A part of you yearns to leap up and accept, drawn to the allure of the life he promises. Yet, you can hear a distant warning of whispers in the recesses of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of such a choice. You can't ignore the lessons learned from Soonyeol's fate, knowing that trading one form of captivity for another may not be the answer. She is happy right now but for how long could she possibly stay that way?
"Y/N?" Jaeyun's voice breaks through the haze, its urgency slicing through the intimate moment with Heeseung. It reverberates down the halls, each bounce signalling his approach, yet the vastness of the mansion keeps him at a distance, prolonging the inevitable interruption.
You tear yourself away from Heeseung’s grip, sitting up as you dare not to look at him, “I can’t have this life, Heeseung. This belongs to Soonyeol.”
As you move to get up and dress, Heeseung grips your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, studying you with an intensity that leaves your soul feeling exposed, laid bare before him.
"Say the word and she's gone, Baby," he murmurs, his voice low and determined. The fondness and devotion he once held for his minder seem to fade into the background as he tries to persuade you to stay.
Your eyes widen in disbelief at his implication; how could he suggest getting rid of Soonyeol so easily, especially someone who gave their soul to him? While he may believe it's what you want to hear, his words only serve to deepen your doubts about his loyalty and commitment. If he can toss her aside, how quickly will it take him to move on from you?
Pulling his hand from your face, you hold it against your chest, “You told me you don’t break your promises, Heeseung,” you gently confront him. Yet, as you look into his eyes, you see sincerity within them, making you question whether he means his words to you.
“Y/N? Where are you?” Jaeyun shouts once again, panic in his vocals.
“Let me give you your desires,” Heeseung’s lips upturn as he watches your brain fight itself between yielding and defying your urges.
“Y/N? Can you answer me?”
“Come on, Y/N, say it. Tell me you want this.”
“Please answer me!”
Your body instinctively leans into Heeseung's touch, drawn in by the intensity of his gaze as he strokes your cheek with a gentle caress. It's as if you're caught in a trance, captivated by the magnetic pull of his presence. 
Heeseung has this way of making you surrender, like without even owning your soul, he still has it in his possession. You’re tied to him in a way that no one can grasp. You should flee, run to the sound of Jaeyun’s voice and yet, you stay put, leaning closer to Heeseung with a heavy need for the life he is offering.
There’s no way you can say no. So you don’t.
“I want this, Heeseung.”
A sinister smirk etches on his face and a dark chuckle heaves from his chest as he witnesses your resolve crumble away and the girl he needs you to be, start to appear. He has you hook, line, and sinker, and he could not be fucking happier.
His eyes begin to cloud with that crimson hue that used to scare you but now you look at them with a sense of satisfaction; they help you look at yourself in the reflection and see a girl ready to take what is hers, to be selfish for once. After living a life of chasing fulfilment and desires, Heeseung is helping you finally achieve it.
There is still guilt in the pit of your stomach for Soonyeol because once she comes back from her trip, you don’t know what Heeseung will do to her. That is a thought you can’t bear to wonder about too extensively but you need to make sure that she lives and finds a peaceful life elsewhere; only then can your guilty conscience be eased and you can forever embrace this life.
“I’ll make you so fucking happy, baby. I will give you everything you could want and more,” Heeseung mumbles into your bare shoulder, still sticky from the passionate exchange you’ve just had. His lips are so gentle, a juxtaposition from the raw fucking he just blessed you with moments ago. 
Leaning back, you gaze into his eyes once more, they tell a tale of lust and admiration even within the red clouds. But yours are focused on the safety of Soonyeol. “What will you do to Soonyeol? Please don’t kill her…”
Smiling, he strokes your cheek fondly, “You’re still a good girl after all, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll fuck that out of you soon enough.” Heeseung’s manner is playful yet this is serious for you, you need his word that Soonyeol will not succumb to a deadly fate.
“Please, Heeseung. There is no deal if you kill her,” you reiterate, voice holding a stern undertone while it wavers slightly. “I won’t be yours.”
Heeseung does not like that, his eyes narrow dangerously and his fingers, which were once delicately ghosting your cheek, now grip your jaw harshly, bruising the delicate skin. “You don’t get to make demands around here, baby.”
Fear surges through you, but you summon your courage, meeting his fierce gaze with as much defiance as you can muster. “If you want me to stay, then you’ll promise me she’s safe,” you insist, your voice steadier than you feel.
You and Heeseung are locked in a stare-off, both of you unyielding in your demands. He knows despite feeding into your desires, you still have that damn moral compass, and if he wants you to fully be his -  mind, body, and soul - he needs to work with you, at least for now. 
Knowingly, Heeseung relents, his grip loosening on your jaw as he nods. “I won’t kill her, I’ll make sure her soul is alive and well. Trust me, baby.”
And in some strange turn of events, you do trust him. You don’t know if it’s the proximity of his body to yours or the intimate aftermath of your recent encounter, but you find yourself believing in his promise despite the darkness that surrounds him.
“We need to seal the deal, so to speak,” he grins, his thumb wiping roughly over your bottom lip, pushing it down seductively as he inches closer. This is it, you think to yourself, once you kiss him, you’ve given yourself over to him.
Being owned by a Prince of Hell should terrify you, like most of the happenings in this house should have, yet just like every time, it feels right. You do belong to him in some twisted fate, and you feel it more in this moment than ever. Perhaps he is coaxing your mind to surrender to him, or maybe it’s just pure want, for both Soonyeol’s life and the Prince she once called hers.
Swallowing any apprehension you have, you whisper a silent ‘okay’, giving yourself over with consent, much to Heeseung’s delight. And without a second thought, his lips collide with yours once again, his hand cradling the back of your head as he lays you back down on the bed, kissing you with as much fervour as he can manage.
In that heated moment, as your lips meld with his, you feel a surge of conflicting emotions. There's desire, undeniable and fierce, coursing through your veins, mingling with a sense of trepidation at the path you're willingly treading.
Heeseung's kiss is both intoxicating and consuming, his passion igniting a fire within you that threatens to engulf your senses. His hands roam your body with possessive urgency, as if claiming you as his own in every possible way.
As the kiss intensifies, the world around you melts away, leaving only you and Heeseung locked in an eternal embrace. It's as if nothing else matters in this moment but the raw, unholy connection that you share with him. You feel your veins pulsing and your heart racing, like you’re shedding your old self to make way for someone new.
In this moment, you choose to embrace the darkness and submit to the irresistible pull of hunger and temptation. For better or worse, you've made your decision, and there is no turning back now.
“Heeseung, have you seen Y/N?” Jaeyun’s voice rings through the door as he chaps it softly. His voice is laced with concern, the tremble of his chin evident in how his words shake. “I can’t find her, she was with me a minute ago?”
Heeseung’s mouth turns into an evil grin as he continues to ravish you, knowing that you’re officially his now. Snaking his hand up your legs, he dips his hand between your thighs and caresses your swollen clit softly, using his touch to cloud your mind of thoughts with nothing but him and your desire to be his everything.
You gasp at the intrusion, your nub still sensitive from the beating it took not even 30 minutes ago. He has this way of teasing you, yet giving you exactly what you want that makes your heart beat for him. He might not be a God of holy faith, but he is a God nonetheless, and you are ready to worship the ground he walks on.
“Seriously, Heeseung? Did she come by here?” Jaeyun asks once again.
Grunting, he plunges two fingers into your heat and covers your mouth before you can let out a long drone. “Should we let him see you like this?” Heeseung whispers next to your ear, eliciting a panicked shake of the head from you. You loved Jaeyun, more than the stars shine, so seeing him hurt pains you to think about, and seeing you wrapped around his older brother might just kill him. 
Snorting, Heeseung mocks you, shaking his head along with you, a fake pout on his lips as he curls his fingers inside of you. “No? Are you sure?”
“Please, Heeseung,” you mumble against his hand, pleading with him, and the double entendre is not lost on his ears. You're begging him to keep going while also pleading to keep your relationship with Jaeyun intact.
Jaeyun twists the door handle, but the lock prevents him from entering, much to your relief. Heeseung picks up the pace of his fingers and adds his thumb, circling your clit rapidly. Your body arches as he continues to pleasure you, Jaeyun’s persistent attempts to enter now a distant memory.
Not to Heeseung though, who finds the boy grating on his last nerve.
“She’s not here, so fuck off,” he bellows out, rolling his eyes before adoringly focusing on you again. His harsh words towards Jaeyun hurt your heart, but the clench of your walls around his fingers tells Heeseung a different story. “Oh? You like it when I’m mean?”
Yes, you do. Of course, you do. It's how he got you to worship his cock like it was the offering of the last supper. You don’t really like it when Jaeyun is on the other side of it but the way Heeseung is fucking his fingers into you clouds that soft side.
Your body starts to spasm, telling him everything he needs to know. He thrusts his fingers deep inside of you, your spongy walls trapping them in place as you reach your climax.
Thanking hell below for his palm, you hold it close to your mouth as you cum around his fingers, the guttural groan vibrating through Heeseung's doll shell. As you ride the waves of ecstasy, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of your release, Heeseung watches you with smug satisfaction. He revels in the power he holds over you, relishing in the way your body responds to his touch, every whimper and moan affirming his control.
Once the tremors of your orgasm subside, Heeseung withdraws his fingers slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. He leans in close, his soft lips against your ear as he murmurs, "You're mine, Y/N. All mine."
_____
Staring at one of the dolls on the hallway shelves, you can't help but feel an instant connection to her. The way her apple cheeks are delicately blushed with a light pink pigment exudes innocence, and her eyes, though glassy and vacant, seem to hold a haunting depth that speaks volumes. It's as if she's a frozen embodiment of lost innocence, a silent witness to the darker forces at play within these walls.
Memories of your own past flood back, a time when you too felt like a mere puppet in the hands of fate, devoid of purpose or direction. You remember the fear and uncertainty that once consumed you, the longing for something more than the emptiness that surrounded you.
But then everything changed when you entered this house, when you met Heeseung and the others. They offered you a glimpse of a world beyond your wildest dreams, a world filled with passion, desire, and danger.
A pair of arms wrap around your waist, pulling you from your reverie, and a chin gently rests on your shoulder. Speak of the devil. Heeseung's presence is both comforting and unsettling, his touch sending a shiver down your spine as his lips press firmly against the base of your neck. It's a possessive gesture, a silent reminder of the hold he has over you, yet there's a tenderness in the way he pulls you close, as if seeking solace in your presence. 
Soonyeol’s arrival is imminent and your two months of work finally coming to an end. The thought of breaking the news to her, of telling her that she's being ousted from her own sanctuary, fills you with a sense of dread. You haven’t even broached the subject with the other dolls, clinging to the hope that you can somehow persuade Soonyeol to go quietly and come up with a feeble excuse about how she craved more than the confinements of this house.
But it’s a pipedream, and deep down, you know it. You're at a loss for what to do, desperately hoping that Heeseung has a better idea, though the thought of the suggestions his mind could conjure fills you with unease.
“Do you like her?” Heeseung's soft voice breaks through your thoughts, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your stomach, easing away the nerves without him even realizing.
One thing about Heeseung these past few weeks; he’s been your saving grace. The pull you felt towards him from the moment you arrived has only grown stronger with each passing day, his presence a source of comfort and stability amid uncertainty. He is rude and harsh with you when you show even a slither of humanity for Soonyeol or the dolls, but he makes up for it by being gentle with you in subtle moments.
He's a study in contradictions - pushing and pulling, hot and cold - and yet, you find yourself drawn to him all the same. It's in those fleeting moments of tenderness, when he brushes a strand of hair from your face or pulls you into a comforting embrace, that you catch glimpses of the man behind the Prince.
Nodding in response to his question, you sink into him, the warmth of his body enveloping you like a protective shield against the uncertainty that lies ahead. “She's pretty,” you admit softly, your gaze drifting towards the doll on the shelf, her delicate features frozen in porcelain perfection.
“Not as pretty as you though,” he smirks, his lips tickling your neck as he leans in closer, brushing against your skin in a teasing caress. “Although, you would look pretty as a doll, too.” His tone is dark but it’s washed away with the wave of banter that flows through it.
Turning your head, you raise a sceptical brow. “Is that the clause in our deal? I get to live here, but you keep me as a Polly Pocket?” you jest, laughter bubbling up to chase away the remaining nerves.
Heeseung laughs heartily, his grip on your hips tightening briefly before he steps back, giving you some space. “You are far too powerful, too perfect, to be trapped in a tattered piece of porcelain.” His words carry a sincerity that melts away any lingering doubts, leaving you feeling cherished and reassured in his presence.
You've tried to keep your guard up around him, knowing all too well that beneath his caring facade lies the darkness of Beelzebub. Yet, in moments like this, it's far too easy to forget the true nature of the man before you. Heeseung's charm and the tenderness he has been showing lately makes it all too easy to overlook the sinister power he wields.
But deep down, you know the truth. With one click of his fingers, he could turn your world upside down, shattering everything you hold dear just as easily as he's granted your heart's desires. It's a precarious balance, walking the tightrope between desire and danger, love and fear.
And yet, despite the looming threat that hangs over your head, you find yourself unable to resist the pull of Heeseung's magnetism, drawn to him like a moth to a flame, unable to escape the allure of his darkness; like there is something deeper.
The sound of a car pulling up over the gravel driveway snaps you back to reality, instantly tensing your muscles as a surge of apprehension washes over you. Heeseung notices your rigid frame and pulls you back, his touch both comforting and unsettling.
“I’m going to ask her for a private conversation so there are…no hard feelings,” he begins, his tone cryptic and difficult to decipher. “Bring her and wait in the drawing room,” he adds, pointing to the doll behind you with his chin.
You watch him with a mixture of confusion and apprehension as he walks away, his actions leaving you with more questions than answers. His demeanour is inscrutable, giving nothing away as he disappears from view, leaving you to ponder the plan he's clearly concocted in his head.
With a furrowed brow, you turn your attention to the doll he indicated, a sense of unease settling in the pit of your stomach. There's a foreboding weight to the situation, a feeling that something ominous is about to unfold.
But for now, all you can do is follow Heeseung's instructions and prepare yourself for the private conversation that awaits. With a deep breath, you grab the pretty doll and head to the drawing room with the hope that this will go smoothly.
_____
As you wait for Soonyeol and Heeseung's arrival, you take a moment to marvel at the grandeur of the drawing room. The fancy furnishings and decor speak of a bygone era, a time when elegance and extravagance reigned supreme.
Sunlight filters through the tall windows, casting a warm glow over the room and illuminating the intricate patterns of the Persian rugs that adorn the wooden floors. The walls are covered with priceless works of art, each painting telling a story of its own.
Over the two months you've been working here, you've noticed Soonyeol's love for the 16th-century Renaissance period. Her love for the art and culture of that time is evident in the decor of the entire house. It's as if she's created her own little slice of Renaissance paradise within these walls, a sanctuary where she can escape the troubles of the modern world.
You’re beginning to feel guilty once again, kicking her out of this home just for your own selfish pleasures. Heeseung has convinced you time and time again that this is what you deserve, that he wouldn’t offer this opportunity to someone who wasn’t in dire need of it. 
And you need it. You can’t go back. Not now.
The door creaks open slowly, and Heeseung gestures for Soonyeol to enter before him, a fond eye smile gracing his features as he watches her timid walk. She looks visibly shocked to see you standing there, her expression betraying her surprise as she takes in your presence. It's as if Heeseung hadn't prepared her for your involvement in this delicate conversation. You can see the confusion and uncertainty flicker in her eyes, a reflection of the turmoil brewing within her as she tries to make sense of the situation.
“Hee? Darling, why are we here? Why is Y/N here?” Soonyeol's voice carries a note of confusion as she looks between Heeseung and you, her gaze lingering on you with a hint of curiosity.
The way she calls him "darling" strikes a chord with you, a guard instantly going up until you realise that, at this moment, she still thinks he is hers when in reality, you're the one he's been wrapped around for the past two weeks.
In fact, you've been wrapped around all of her dolls for the past two months.
You offer a gentle wave, an attempt to break the awkward silence that hangs heavy in the air. It's clear that Soonyeol is struggling to make sense of the situation, and you can't blame her. For all she knows the dolls should have stayed exactly that -  dolls. They should never have moved or let you in on the secret about their beings. But you know them all, each depth of their entity and soul, you understand them, more than her it seems if the conversations you’ve had with Jaeyun and Sunghoon are anything to go by.
“This is just somewhere quiet we can talk, this is a sensitive discussion,” he rubs her arms affectionately, reassuring her just as he has done you over the weeks. Yet, his face graces itself with an ill-omened smirk, looking at you with joy in his eyes.
Soonyeol tilts her head and pouts slightly. “So you know about the boys?” she asks softly, her tone laced with caution as she tries to gauge your reaction. Her love and devotion to the dolls means that she is careful about who can know about them and who doesn’t, and she has yet to find someone she trusts with her secret.
You quickly swallow the saliva in your mouth and nod in agreement, “Yeah, they weren’t very discreet, but they have all been so kind to me. I cherish them so much,” you say earnestly. You mean every word of it, maybe more so the fact you cherish them than all of them being kind, but you need to butter this woman up so you can get her to leave as soon as possible.
Soonyeol's expression softens at your response, a flicker of relief crossing her features as she exhales slowly. It's clear that she's been holding her breath, unsure of how you would react to the revelation. “Was it Jaeyun? It was Jaeyun wasn’t it?” 
She begins to laugh, a soft and melodic sound that fills the room, as she shakes her head gently. You can see the wheels turning in her mind as she comes to her own conclusions. Jaeyun's reputation as a chatterbox is well-known throughout the house, so it's no surprise that she would automatically suspect him first. “You know, he’s usually good at keeping promises.”
Heeseung's grip on her shoulders is gentle yet firm, a silent reassurance that he's there for her. He leans in, his voice a low murmur as he interjects. “Speaking of promises,” he whispers to himself, his tone cold yet his touch offering her affection. “Hey, Soon?”
Soonyeol's attention shifts to him, her eyes wide with curiosity as she looks up at him expectantly. “Yeah?” she prompts, her voice tinged with wonder and a hint of apprehension.
“There’s been a change of plans to our deal,” he says, his words cutting through the air with icy precision, even as his hands continue to offer her comfort.
Soonyeol's gaze flickers to you, as if seeking confirmation or understanding from you. You meet her eyes with a blank stare, unsure of what to say or how to react to this unexpected turn of events. “What do you-”
It all happens so quickly.
Heeseung's hands, usually a source of comfort and reassurance to Soonyeol, suddenly transform into instruments of terror as they wrap around her head. One hand clamps down firmly on top, while the other grips her chin from underneath, his fingers digging into her flesh with a chilling intensity.
In one swift, violent motion, he twists her head with a forceful jerk, Soonyeol's neck snaps at a sharp 90-degree angle, the movement so abrupt and forceful that it sends shockwaves rippling through the room. The sound that follows is bone-chilling, a sickening crack that reverberates with such intensity that it feels as though it could be heard from heaven itself. The sound echoes off the walls with a sinister resonance that seems to linger in the air long after the deed is done. 
As you watch in horror, a wave of nausea washes over you, threatening to overwhelm your senses. It's a sight that sears itself into your memory, haunting you long after the moment has passed. In that brief, fleeting instant, you catch a glimpse of the true extent of Heeseung's power, a power that is as terrifying as it is awe-inspiring.
Releasing his grip on Soonyeol's lifeless form, Heeseung steps back with a cold detachment that sends a shiver down your spine. The once warm air now feels cold and thick with tension, the weight of what has just transpired hanging heavily in the room like a suffocating blanket.
He looks down at his past lover's body and squats down beside her, stroking her face. Heeseung's touch on Soonyeol's lifeless form is strangely tender considering the brutality of his actions just moments ago. His expression is unreadable, a mask of indifference masking any trace of emotion. "No hard feelings, baby," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "You just aren't her."
You don’t have the time nor the brain capacity to register his remark when he stands up, his movements purposeful as he grasps Soonyeol’s wrist firmly, before dragging her to the table on the left side of the room, heaving her up onto it with no struggle at all, as though he is lifting a butterfly who had injured it’s wing. 
Transfixed on the spot, your eyes follow Heeseung's movements as he meticulously arranges Soonyeol's body on the table. He places her hands gently on her stomach and closes her eyes, as if giving her a semblance of peace in death. The room is eerily silent, the only sound being the faint rustle of his movements.
Heeseung then walks around the table with an unsettling calm, his presence both comforting and terrifying. He plants a chaste kiss on your lips, a contrast to the violent act he just committed. "I'll be right back, baby," he murmurs softly, his voice almost soothing.
As he heads towards the door, leaving you alone with Soonyeol's lifeless body, panic and guilt surge through you. You're left with the grim reality of the situation - a situation you played a part in creating. The weight of your actions presses heavily on your conscience, threatening to crush you under its burden.
You can't bear to look at her. The sight of Soonyeol, so still and silent, is too much to handle. Turning away, you feel a deep sense of shame and regret wash over you, mingling with the fear that now grips your heart. The room feels colder, the air you breathe thicker with the weight of your guilt.
In the oppressive silence, you struggle with the knowledge of what you've done, unable to escape the haunting reality of your involvement in this tragedy. You wanted this life, but not like this, not with blood on your hands; Heeseung had promised you that much.
Heeseung returns with the ornate bowl from the altar, slamming the door shut behind him with a resounding thud that makes you jump. He locks it with a deliberate twist of the mechanic, sealing the room and adding to the claustrophobic tension. With a casual grace, he spins the priceless bowl in his hands as though it were a mere football, his nonchalance juxtaposing sharply with the gravity of the situation.
Making his way to the table, he places the bowl just above Soonyeol's head. His movements are quick and precise, a sense of urgency evident in his actions. "Come on, baby, it’s your time to shine," he urges, his voice carrying an impatient edge.
"W-what?" you stammer, barely able to form the words as the reality of what’s happening starts to sink in.
Heeseung doesn’t look at you, instead snapping his fingers and pointing towards you, "Did you bring that pretty doll I asked you to?"
The doll. The beautiful doll that you picked up earlier now takes on a sinister significance. Your mind races, slowly piecing together the grim puzzle. But as you stand frozen, struggling to process, Heeseung elaborates, confirming your worst suspicions. "We’re going to take Soonyeol’s soul from in here," he slaps her still, dead stomach with a forceful smack that makes you flinch, "and we are going to put it in there."
The innocent doll sits idly by, its painted eyes staring blankly ahead, unaware of the dark fate it has been chosen to bear. You feel sick as you realise the full extent of what Heeseung plans to do; you can’t believe this is what you caused.
Your eyes, which once couldn't look at Soonyeol, are now transfixed on her, unable to focus on anything else. You struggle to breathe, each inhale feeling like a weight pressing down on your chest.
Heeseung, growing increasingly irritated by your lack of response, strides over to you. “Fucking hell, Y/N,” he huffs, exasperation evident in his voice. As he gets close, he grabs a chunk of your hair, dragging you over to the lifeless girl and forcing you to lean over the table, your face just inches from Soonyeol’s paling features. “You asked for this,” he snarls, his voice dripping with anger and frustration.
But this isn’t what you wanted. Not at all, and he knows that. “No… this is… you said you wouldn’t kill her,” you whisper, your voice barely audible through the hushed sobs that threaten to break free. You aren’t exactly crying, unable to even process the whirlwind of emotions swirling in your head: fear, anguish, dread, curiosity, admiration.
“If you do your fucking job, then she won’t be dead, will she?” Heeseung releases his grip on your hair, smoothing it out with an almost tender touch before scanning the room for the doll. Once he spots it, he swiftly retrieves the porcelain and places it next to the bowl.
Heeseung's eyes flicker with a cold intensity as he sets everything in place, his movements precise as you watch him in awe. “Here’s what you’re going to do,” he instructs, his voice commanding and brooking no argument. “You’re going to transfer her soul into this doll. If you succeed, she’ll live. Fail, and she’s gone forever, she goes down there with all my legions, Got it?”
He sees you considering the consequences, your eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. With a sigh, he rubs his face in frustration. Deep down, he knows this is a lot for you to process and he should be somewhat more lenient to your shock, but now is not the time.
“Listen, baby, if I know the girl inside of you, then you can do this easily, okay?” His voice is gentler now, as if he is trying to reach a deeper part of you, seeking someone else within your soul.
His words strike a chord within you, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. You nod, determination slowly replacing the paralyzing fear. “I can do this,” you whisper to yourself, though the words are meant for him as well.
“That’s my girl,” he smiles wickedly, seeing that tint of cloud form around your body, “Now repeat after me:
nrober eb tirips eht tel eerced swodahs yb
nrot eb liev eht tel ecarbme sthgiliwt ni
derrulb elballys yreve stneicna fo eugnot eht ni
draeh ron nekops rehtien sdrow eht rettu
htrae eht ssik smaebnoom erehw
htaerb sthgiliwt eht ni shpylg sti ecart
trap llahs luos eht llehs latrom eht morf rof
traeh nmelos a htiw stcafetra eseht rehtag
niht si liev eht dna ecnad swodahs nehw ruoh eht ni”
He says the lines slowly, ensuring that you copy every syllable for perfect diction. You don’t know what language this is but it is identical to the one Jongseong spoke when he called hell. The words feel heavy on your tongue, ancient and powerful, as if they carry the weight of centuries.
As you repeat the incantation, a strange sensation washes over you like you’re suddenly powerful and the words come so easily to your lips you might as well be fluent. The air in the room grows thicker, charged with an otherworldly energy that sends shivers down your spine. You focus on Heeseung’s voice, steady and commanding, guiding you through the spell until you’re saying it along with him, chanting it like these are your vows, to have and to hold. 
Heeseung takes Soonyeol's hand and cuts into her palm, dripping her blood into the stone bowl carefully while you repeat the ritual over and over again just as instructed. The bowl begins to glow with a pulsating red light, its intensity increasing with each word. He carefully takes his finger and paints an upside-down cross on the doll's forehead, but it looks more like an X with the smudge of her carmine sweetness. 
The shadows in the room seem to come alive, swirling around you in a dance that mirrors the rhythm of the incantation. The temperature drops and your breath comes out in visible puffs of mist. Heeseung’s eyes never leave you, his expression a mix of pride and anticipation. “Fuck, there you are,” he heaves out, his tongue menacingly sticking out of his mouth past his evil smile, as if he’s getting turned on by just seeing you utter the words of his mother tongue.
But so are you, or at least, your body is charged with high energy. It's as if a dormant power within you has been awakened, stirring to life with an insatiable hunger for the raw, untamed energy that tornados around you.
In this moment, you feel more alive than you have ever felt before, every sense heightened to an almost unbearable degree. The air crackles with anticipation, charged with the potent magic that hangs thick in the atmosphere. You can feel the pulse of the earth beneath your feet, the rhythmic beat of its heart synchronising with your own.
As you reach the final verse, the light from the bowl blazes brightly, casting eerie shadows across Soonyeol’s lifeless form. With the last syllable, the energy within the bowl surges outward, a tangible wave of force that knocks the breath out of your lungs. It dances its way into Soonyeol’s being, collecting pieces of her soul that are hidden in the depth of her body before drawing it out, the pure white mist following the red light energy before it guides her to the doll.
You watch in awe and terror as she flows into the doll, its porcelain face glowing with an unearthly light. Soonyeol’s body twitches, a final spasm and gasp of life before it goes completely still. The doll’s eyes now hold a flicker of life within them that was not there before. She is alive.
Once the ritual concludes and Soonyeol's soul is sealed within the doll, the room descends into an eerie darkness, the once vibrant glow of the ritual bowl fading into obscurity. The only illumination comes from the soft hues of the setting sun filtering through the window, casting long shadows that dance across the room.
Heeseung observes you closely, his eyes penetrating the darkness with an intensity that belies the gloom. He senses the subtle shift within you, a transformation he has long anticipated; that greed for your own satisfaction, to take what you want from this world, for you to come home to him. 
In his eyes, you are bathed in a vermillion aura, an ethereal glow that marks you as a being of otherworldly power. It's a sight that would be invisible to the naked human eye, but to Heeseung, it's a sign of your rightful place among the divine. In the underworld, such a sight would be revered and worshipped as a symbol of authority and dominion. And by God does he want to get on his knees to bow before you and pledge his unwavering loyalty.
You might not be able to see the glow around you, but you can feel it. It’s exhilarating, the passion and vitality coursing through your bloodstream, electrifying every nerve ending and racing to your heart and your core. There is no logical explanation for the arousal that pulses through you because what you should be feeling is confusion; why did you enjoy that? And why did you know the ritual as if it were engraved in your very being?
Noticing the subtle movement of your thighs as they press together, Heeseung's signature wicked grin returns to his face. "Oh, baby, did that make you needy?" he taunts, his voice dripping with amusement as he leans on the table, his gaze fixed on your squirming form. “Do you want me to fuck you as a reward?”
You can't deny the rising heat within you, the inexplicable lust that courses through your veins. It feels wrong, given the circumstances, yet, here you are, trapped in a moment of perverse desire, all while grappling with the implications of your actions.
Biting down on your lip, you nod, completely entranced by the sight before you. Heeseung exudes a magnetic allure, his rugged appearance heightened by the faint spatters of blood on his hands, the intensity of his gaze drawing you in like a moth to a flame. Your eyes trace the contours of his form, from the slight tilt of his neck to the tantalising glimpse of his collarbone peeking out from beneath his low-cut black t-shirt.
Interpreting your nod as consent, Heeseung seizes Soonyeol by the neck and flings her to the ground with a forceful thud, sending a shiver down your spine that's equal parts fear and exhilaration as you hear a bone crack. Heeseung doesn’t need to care about a lifeless meat suit, not when the real Soonyeol is safe and sound in the doll you hand-picked for her.
Just as the room falls into a heavy silence, punctuated only by the echo of your racing heartbeat, a frantic knocking at the door shatters the calm. Jongseong's desperate pleas slice through the air, his voice laced with worry and fear. "Soonyeol?! Baby, are you in there? I can’t hear you anymore, angel…"
The sound of his desperate voice sends a pang of guilt coursing through you. Your heart clenches at the thought of Jongseong's anguish, his unwavering love for Soonyeol evident in every word he utters, every fibre of his soul. He must have felt something wrong once Heeseung - no, you - stuffed her into the tiny doll. 
You broke apart soulmates all for your selfish gain, so you could live happily. But what about him? Jongseong risked everything to be with Soonyeol and you took it from him with the snap of a neck. You cannot imagine having a soulmate being ripped from you that suddenly.
“Y/N? Are you in there? Jongseong, is she in there, is she hurt?” Jaeyun’s voice shadows Jongseong’s sobs as he asks questions that his elder doesn’t know the answer to; his focus is not on you but on his lover who he knows has suffered a terrible fate.
Your gaze shifts to Heeseung, searching for answers in the depths of his dark eyes. "Why can’t he feel her? I thought their souls were connected, not their bodies?" you ask, confusion clouding your thoughts.
Heeseung nods, his movements sleek and calculated as he approaches you. "She was his as long as she was alive, but she sold her soul to me, remember? As soon as she flatlines, she’s mine to own, not anyone else," he explains coldly, his tone devoid of remorse or sympathy.
Noticing your lust for the darker side wavering due to guilt, Heeseung tries to pull you back to him, his hands cradling your face as he forces you to look into his deep eyes. “Don’t listen to them, baby. You have spent your whole life searching for this moment. Don’t let them take it away from you.”
“But-”
"Shhh," Heeseung interjects, pressing a gentle, lover-like kiss to your lips. "Your desires are all that matters now. Think about it - if he truly loved her, he wouldn’t have sinned for you, fucked you like that behind her back." His words are calculated, an attempt to envelop you in the darkness, to paint your world in sinister shades of red and black. He watches your dark aura flicker as you take in his words and silently agree, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.
Jongseong’s desperate cries from outside the door tear at your conscience, his pleas a stark contrast to Heeseung’s poisonous whispers. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N. You’re a good girl, remember?” he begs, his voice filled with sorrow and desperation. You hadn’t known they could hear you from here, then again, the walls are thin, hence why each time Jongseong asked to see you, it would be in a faraway room from Jaeyun or Sunghoon. Heeseung was right about one thing, he sinned with you, for you.
Jongseong’s anguish is palpable, his regret weighing heavily on him. He knows he’s betrayed Soonyeol, seeking forbidden pleasure with you. Yet, something within you drew him to sin, almost compelled him to become the man he swore he would never be.
Heeseung’s mocking grin widens, feeding off his brother’s inner turmoil. "You see, baby, everyone has a dark side. Even angels fall," he murmurs, his voice laced with satisfaction. He steps closer, his presence overwhelming, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe. “And why can he have everything he wants but you can’t?”
He makes a valid point, the feeling in your chest wavering as you think about it. Everyone around you has gotten their desires met, whether in relationships, financial stability, or their dream job. Jongseong gave in and got Soonyeol, Jaeyun wanted to be loved and got a family who cherishes him, and Sunghoon wanted to break free from the cell that kept him captive and a master who was out for blood, and he got solace in these walls.
Why can’t you be selfish like them? Why should you feel guilty for accepting an offer that all of them did so easily?
Watching you fight back, Heeseung's eyes pulse with a vivid red, knowing he needs only one final push to bring you back into his embrace, to unveil the true you. “Do you think I would have brought you here if you weren’t special?” he asks, stepping closer with predatory grace.
Confused, you knit your brows together and shake your head, searching his eyes for answers.
“My sweet, baby. I had to get you home,” he starts, softly running his fingers through your hair. “I’ve spent centuries on this earth, bound to one whore after another, searching high and low for my other half. It was so difficult, sweetheart, but I finally found you.”
You lean into his touch as he gently scratches behind your ear, your mind whirling with his words. What does he mean? You hadn’t met him before that day with Mia. When did you ever ask for his help?
Sensing your confusion, he continues. “You were so lonely, moving to the big city all on your own with no one to keep you safe. I heard you call out for guidance, for salvation once life bruised you. I felt compelled to help you, to bring you a lifetime of happiness.”
Breathing heavily, you shake your head. “I never called out to you, not like the others did.”
“Exactly. I could hear you even when God was meant to pick up your silent prayers, yet they filtered to me. Do you know why?” he asks, stroking your cheek softly as you shake your head. “You’re my girl, my beautiful Alaida. I searched heaven and earth for you the day Lucifer took you from me.”
Beelzebub and Alaida, two lovers torn apart due to Lucifer’s wrath. Alaida had made the mistake of asking for a legion of her own, to be respected on par with the others because she possessed powers that surpassed the Princes. She was beautiful, cunning, a Princess in her own right. But Lucifer, fearing she would surpass him, conspired with Mammon and Leviathan to kill her. It took three men to subdue one woman who hadn't even harnessed all her powers. It was a pathetic attempt to keep their dicks swinging low and the power in their hands.
Despite her death, Beelzebub never stopped searching. He knew the fire of her power could never be extinguished by pretenders to godhood, and that somewhere, she must have found a place to hide. She had often spoken of Earth, envying humans' simple existence, so he knew she would have sought refuge in a human vessel.
For years, Beelzebub answered any calls that might be her in disguise, hoping she would find someone worthy to keep her safe. Soonyeol was one such woman he thought might harbour his lover, and so he answered her call with hope.
But then, you cried out to him, turning his suspicions around. It was impossible to summon him in the Earthrealm without chanting his name, yet you did. Your soul, Alaida’s being, reached out to find him.
You breathe heavily, the weight of his words pressing on you. “I’m not Alaida… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whisper, though your thoughts scream otherwise. You've always felt a pull to Heeseung, but being his lost lover is something you cannot grasp.
“Oh, but baby, you are,” he says slowly, a slight laughter escaping his lips. “Once I heard you and had my suspicions, I convinced Soonyeol to place the ad for a house sitter and sent her to the other side of the world to collect an owed soul. Your friend Mia was an obstacle, but it didn’t take long to make that spineless bitch cower away.” Heeseung continues, planting soft, affectionate kisses on your face. “You are my love. I just had to tie myself to your soul to see it. Looking at you now, Y/N, with that power sparking from your soul, I know my Alaida is deep inside you. We are connected, you and I.”
“Y/N, don’t listen to him! He’s lying!” Jongseong’s raspy voice cuts through, causing your eyes to flicker to the door.
Heeseung won’t stand for the interruption, drawing your attention back with a gentle slap to your face, his cold rings adding to the shock of his actions. His eyes convey what his mouth does not, and suddenly, you do not wish to be guided by Jongseong; you need to be taken by Heeseung.
There’s a storm raging in your chest, an electrifying tempest that tells you Heeseung is right, that Alaida is indeed inside you. This fierce courage you’ve summoned to confront literal demons and defy the infernal powers - it had to be her. The transformation from the person who once quivered at the thought of answering a phone call from an unknown number to standing resolute before Heeseung speaks volumes. His presence ignites a power within you, a fire that feels both foreign and intimately familiar, like a lover’s caress stirring memories of a past life.
“You feel her, don’t you?” Heeseung’s voice is husky, dripping with dark allure, as if he’s reading your innermost thoughts. “I don’t know why she chose you, but you have to let her shine. She saw something in you that she hasn’t seen in over 600 years. You’re special, Y/N.”
Fear and awe mix in your trembling voice as you ask, “…will I lose myself if I do?”
Heeseung’s gaze softens, his eyes burning with a mix of fervour and tenderness. He moves closer, his presence overwhelming and comforting at the same time.
“Y/N, please, I don’t know what’s going on but I need you to listen to Jongseong, okay?” Jaeyun’s voice penetrates the heavy atmosphere, his confused desperation evident as he shouts through the door, desperately trying to break through the barrier both physical and metaphysical.
The air thickens with tension, every heartbeat echoing like a drum in your ears. Heeseung's grip tightens slightly, grounding you in the present. His touch is both an anchor and a reminder of the raw power that lies within you. The pull towards Heeseung, towards your true self as Alaida, feels like a gravitational force, irresistible and consuming.
Outside, Jongseong’s pleas grow more frantic, each word a dagger aimed at your conscience. “Y/N, don’t give in to him. Remember who you are!” His voice cracks with emotion, a stark contrast to Heeseung’s unwavering composure.
Heeseung’s eyes bore into yours, unyielding and confident. “You won’t lose yourself, my love. You’ll become who you were always meant to be.” 
As Heeseung’s words weave their spell around you, the power within you stirs, a dormant volcano on the brink of eruption. The weight of the decision presses down, yet there’s a clarity amidst the chaos. The pull of Alaida’s power, the connection shared with Heeseung, feels undeniably right. Heeseung watches in awe as the red light around you blossoms like a tulip in spring, unfurling into its true, ethereal form.
You stand on the precipice of your decision and the room around you seems to hold its breath, waiting. The doll with Soonyeol’s soul watches with unblinking eyes, a silent witness to the battle waging within you. The echoes of Jongseong and Jaeyun’s cries linger, a haunting reminder of the consequences of your actions.
Closing your eyes, you listen to your heart, letting its desire guide you.
And your heart wants Heeseung.
Opening your eyes, you gaze into Heeseung’s, your need to be consumed by this ancient love reflected in your expression. With a deep breath, you nod, surrendering to the inevitable. His eyes light up with a mixture of triumph and adoration as he steps closer, his presence overwhelming and comforting.
“My love, I’ve missed you so much,” he breathes out, his voice trembling with emotion.
Before you can respond, he captures your lips in a fervent kiss, enveloping you in his longing. The sensation of Heeseung’s black heart being yours to cherish sparks an overwhelming joy within you. His tongue entwines with yours, his kiss filled with a desperate passion that speaks of centuries of yearning. His hands tangle in your hair, gripping tightly as he pulls you closer, guiding you to the edge of the table where Soonyeol once lay.
The table’s cold surface presses against your back as Heeseung’s body moulds to yours, his touch igniting a fire that burns brighter with each passing second. His lips trail from your mouth to your jawline, then down your neck, leaving a scorching path in their wake. Every kiss, every touch, feels like a reclamation of a love that was cruelly stolen. 
“Y/N, you’re so fucking perfect I just want to rip you apart,” he murmurs into your nape, his hands gripping your waist possessively.
You pull his head back, your eyes locking deeply into his, a storm of emotions swirling within them. “Don’t go easy on me,” you smile, almost innocently but with a daring challenge. He crumbles beneath you, his resolve melting as he hears his lover's whispered words leave your mouth.
“Fuck, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he laughs wickedly before claiming your mouth with his once again. His kiss is fierce and demanding, pulling you to sit at the edge of the table. His hands, strong and unyielding, move with purpose, tearing away your clothes piece by piece. Each shred of fabric falling to the floor is a testament to his strength and desperation to feel your skin against his.
The room fills with the sound of tearing cloth and your heavy breaths, the air charged with anticipation and raw need. Heeseung’s eyes devour you, his gaze dark and intense, as though he’s trying to memorize every inch of your exposed skin. His hands follow his eyes, caressing and gripping, leaving no part of you untouched.
“You’re mine,” he growls, his voice low and possessive, a promise and a declaration all at once. His hands slide up your thighs, spreading them apart as he sinks to his knees before you. “All mine.”
The words send a shiver down your spine, anticipation and desire coursing through you. His hands grip your thighs firmly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he gazes up at you with a hunger that makes your heart race. The sight of him kneeling between your legs, his dark eyes filled with unbridled lust and possessiveness, is enough to make your breath hitch.
Heeseung's mouth hovers just above your skin, his nose ghosting over your most sensitive areas. He takes his time, savouring the moment, his eyes never leaving yours. The tension builds, a delicious agony as you wait for him to touch you.
When his lips finally make contact, it's like an electric jolt, pleasure radiating from the point of contact throughout your entire body. His tongue traces a path along your inner thigh, the sensation both torturous and exhilarating. Heeseung's touch is rough yet tender, a perfect blend of dominance and affection that leaves you breathless.
Biting at your skin, he leaves a trail of teeth marks as a sign of possession. The sensation makes your body squirm, needing him even more than you have over the past two months. With Alaida swirling inside of you, you feel even more desperate for his touch, her soul craving to be claimed by Beelzebub once more.
Finally, his mouth attaches itself where you need it the most, his tongue working on your clit with eagerness. Each flick of his muscle sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, building the heat in your core to a fever pitch. He knows exactly how to drive you wild, his movements deliberate and skilled as he worships you with his mouth.
You arch your back, pressing yourself closer to him, urging him to take you higher. He responds with a growl of approval, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he delves deeper into your pleasure. The intensity of his touch is overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge with each passing moment.
His teeth sink down on your clit with force which makes you howl out, mixing with the sobs of the angels who occupy the other side of the door. “Fuck, Heeseung, do it again,” you huff out, grasping at his roots to urge him on.
“You always were a glutton for punishment,” he sneers, biting down on your sensitive flesh. The sting is sharp, sending a jolt through your body that leaves you craving more. It all starts to make sense now, the love you had for the punishment Jongseong gave you on the altar; it wasn’t a newfound kink, it was Alaida - she loves it rough.
And now, so do you.
Heeseung’s mouth is relentless, his tongue and lips working with expert precision as he rises from his knees. He doesn’t break contact for a second, lifting your hips effortlessly to meet his mouth. Your back lies flat on the table, your body arching instinctively towards him, each touch of his tongue sending waves of pleasure through you. His hands grip your thighs firmly, holding you in place, their strength both reassuring and dominant.
The room is filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and his eager, hungry ministrations. Heeseung’s eyes lock onto yours, their dark intensity burning with desire. 
Your hands clutch at the edge of the table, knuckles white from the force of your grip as you lose yourself in the sensation. Every nerve ending is alive with electricity, every inch of your skin hypersensitive to his touch, the warmth of his lips against your most intimate places.
Heeseung’s mouth is everywhere at once, his tongue circling your clit before plunging deep inside you, exploring and tasting with an insatiable hunger. The pressure builds within you, a coil winding tighter and tighter, each flick of his tongue pushing you closer to the edge. His fingers dig into your flesh, marking you as his, a physical reminder of his claim over you.
Moving your hips in a rocking motion, he guides you to ride his face while he works in tandem with his tongue to bring you to the edge. His lips, soft yet demanding, latch onto your swollen clit with a hunger that mirrors your own. He sucks and nibbles with relentless vigour, coaxing waves of pleasure to cascade over you in an unending tide. The combination of his tongue and lips creates a symphony of sensation that brings you to the edge.
“I'm cumming, Heeseung," you gasp, your voice heavy with yearning as your body convulses with the force of your climax. Every fibre of your being ignites with pleasure, sending sparks of ecstasy coursing through your veins.
Heeseung's name tumbles from your lips like a fervent prayer, a plea for release and surrender. With each pulse of pleasure, you feel yourself lost in a whirlwind of sensation.
And then it happens. A bolt of white-hot ecstasy shoots through you, shattering your senses as you spiral into the abyss of euphoria. Your entire body convulses with the force of your release, every muscle tensing and relaxing in perfect harmony with the waves of pleasure crashing over you.
Heeseung doesn't let up, his mouth continuing to work its magic as you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm. He drinks in every moan and whimper, every twitch and tremble, savouring the taste of your pleasure as if it were the finest delicacy known to man.
Finally, as the last echoes of your cries fade into the ether, you collapse against the table, your body spent and sated. Heeseung's lips linger against your skin, pressing soft kisses against your thighs before letting go of your hips as you bask in the afterglow of your passion.
With a firm hand, he delivers a sharp slap to your clit, the sting sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. Your back arches in response, your breath catching in your throat as the sensation radiates from your core to your shoulders. He revels in the power he holds over you, his smirk widening as he watches your body react to him. 
His touch is both punishment and reward as he continues, “You’re going to cum again,” he growls, not as a prediction but an order; one you are happy to obey. 
As the intensity increases with every slap, you find yourself squirming, aching to get away but longing to stay and take it. Heeseung is skilled at taking you to the edge, and he takes pride in your every sound of agony and gasp.
“T-too much, Heeseung.” Your plea escapes your lips in a desperate whimper, the overwhelming sensation of your overstimulated nub pushing you to the brink of your boundaries. It's a dizzying mix of pleasure and suffering, with each touch sending shockwaves of sensations rushing through your body.
“You can take it,” he says authoritatively, landing another harsh slap to your reddened pussy. “Once you cum, I’ll stop.”
So you relax your body as much as you can given the circumstances, focusing on the rapture of it. Heeseung watches you give in and licks his lips, using the opportunity to unleash his sadistic need to power over you. With rapid hits, he doesn’t give your clit time to breathe as he smacks it over and over again.
Somehow, the faster he’s going, the more enjoyable it is, “Holy shit, Hee!” you scream out. Your hands claw at your thighs as you force them to stay open, enjoying the beating your heat is receiving. Your body bucks against his relentless assault, the sting of each impact resonates deep within you, igniting a primal fire that courses through your veins.
“Such a perfect little princess,” he chides, alternating his hands to quicken the pace. 
As his fingers graze down your pussy with each hit, you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion. The rhythm of his assault becomes hypnotic, driving you closer and closer to the brink with every stroke. Your skin tingles with anticipation, every nerve ending alive with the electric charge of desire.
And then, just when you think you can't take anymore, it happens. Your body convulses with the force of your release, pleasure exploding through every fibre of your being as you cry out his name. The intensity of it all is overwhelming, a whirlwind of ecstasy that consumes you whole.
Heeseung's movements falter for a moment, his touch gentling as he guides you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. His fingers trace soothing patterns against your skin, each caress a balm to the raw, pulsating heat between your legs. 
Your essence drips down your pussy onto the table, creating a sheen that Heeseung can see his reflection in. His eyes are blown out red, succumbing to the demon within him as he brings you gratification.
As you descend from the soaring heights of bliss, you quiver from exhaustion. Heeseung's lips brush over your flesh, planting sweet kisses on your thighs while murmuring words of appreciation and devotion. 
“You did well, baby. So fucking good for me,” he utters into your skin. Heeseung's lips trail a path of reverence up your body. Each kiss feels like a benediction, a testament to the intensity of your connection. As he reaches your tummy, his tongue darts out to taste the salty-sweet sheen of sweat, his movements slow and deliberate.
The tenderness of his touch contrasts sharply with the raw passion that still lingers in the air “You’re mine, all mine,” he whispers against your skin like a mantra, affirming your worth and igniting a spark of warmth.
With each kiss and lick, he worships your body as though you are a sacred temple, his devotion evident in every caress. And as he finally reaches your breasts, his lips envelop one nipple in a gentle suck, giving it attention as it stands proudly for him.
His fingers glide up the curves of your body, tracing delicate trails that elicit a gasp from your lips. A smirk dances across his face as he captures the sound, his nails leaving faint imprints along the way. With a playful tug, he ensnares your bud between his teeth, pulling at it before releasing with a teasing flourish.
Taking hold of your throat, he draws you closer, his gaze ravenous as he savours every contour of your face. “I’m going to fuck you so good, baby, you’ll be crying out for God to save you.” His words make you mewl out, chasing his lips with yours as you seek his unholy kisses, yet he denies you, shaking his head playfully. “Bad girls get kisses, so show me how bad you can be.”
Without breaking his gaze, you nod and shimmy yourself once again to the edge of the table, spreading your legs as wide as they can go, showing your eagerness to please him. The sight before him makes Heeseung’s eyes pulse and his doll shell shiver. You’re a vision no higher power could ever create.
You’re a gift from hell.
Positioning himself at your entrance, he plunges in with unbridled urgency, sending waves of shock and lust through your body. The suddenness of his movement catches you off guard, but the sensation is electrifying, sparking a starving hunger deep within you. 
He sets a steady rhythm, thrusting into you with determination to ensure that this is the best fuck of your life, to make sure you know that he is the only one that can give you what you need. 
Your walls clench around him in response to his fastening pace, your body instinctively welcoming him as he delves deeper, the tip of his cock hitting your deep spot. Each movement is calculated and deliberate, each thrust a testament to his demonic desire as he sets a punishing flow that leaves you trembling with pleasure.
With a raw intensity, he takes you roughly, his cock sliding effortlessly in and out of your wet heat. A moan escapes your lips as you feel him stuff you to the brink, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. He's holding nothing back, fucking into you the way he knows you like, the way his Alaida likes it.
“You’re so good at taking my cock,” he grunts out through gritted teeth. “Tell them how good it feels to be fucked like this.” By them you know he means the two weeping angels who are still outside of the door, their pleas for you to stop swallowed by your loud moans.
“I love your cock. You fuck me so good, Heeseung. I want you to fuck me forever,” you exclaim, gripping his neck as stability, staring intensely into his beautiful crimson eyes. You steal a kiss, closing your eyes at his soft lips melting into yours. He doesn’t reprimand you for it, instead, he ravishes you with mirrored passion, his hips never faltering.
"You don't need to sell your soul for me to grant that wish, baby," Heeseung growls between heated kisses, his voice rough with desire.
You respond with a desperate moan, arching your back to meet his every thrust. "Don't stop," you plead, your nails digging into his skin as you cling to him, lost in the overwhelming sensations.
Heeseung's growl reverberates through the room as he bucks his hips with increasing urgency, driving deeper into you with each thrust. His voice, rough with desire, commands your attention. "Tell them you belong to me, and I'll give you whatever you need. I'll go as long as you want."
Without hesitation, you nod fervently, your voice hoarse as you cry out his name along with the words he craves to hear. "I belong to you, Heeseung. Only you," you gasp, the declaration punctuated by a sharp intake of breath as pleasure courses through your veins.
His hand tightens around your throat, a rough but controlled grip that sends shivers down your spine. In one swift motion, he pushes you back onto the table roughly, the sudden crash of your skull on the wooden surface causing your head to crack and spin with dizzying intensity. Yet, far from unsettling you, the sensation only serves to heighten the exhilarating rush of desire pumping in your body.
Pushing your head to the side with a firm grip, Heeseung forces you to face the sight of Soonyeol's lifeless form. The vibrant energy that once animated her is now replaced by a haunting stillness, her body lying pale and broken before you.
"Tell her," Heeseung's voice is low, his tone commanding as he demands your acknowledgement of the grim reality before you. 
You should be repulsed, the sight of Soonyeol's lifeless body enough to shatter the euphoria of the moment. But instead, there's an unsettling allure, a twisted fascination in knowing that what once belonged to her is now yours and she has no way to steal it back from you. Her dolls, her house, Heeseung -  it all belongs to you now, a chilling testament to the power you hold over her legacy.
"I'm Heeseung's, only his," you declare, your voice wavering slightly as conflicting emotions swirl within you. Alaida gleams at the sight, happy that her lover is now only hers, but you still feel sorrow for the girl. 
Conflicting emotions swirl within you like a tumultuous storm, battling for dominance as you and Heeseung's ancient love wrestle for control of your consciousness. But deep down, you understand that you are her now, and she is you - merged together in a dance of shared existence. There is no longer a distinction between you versus her; she chose you to carry her soul, binding you together in a singular entity.
In the wake of Alaida's inhumane recklessness, it falls upon you to navigate the delicate balance between humanity and evil. Despite the darkness that threatens to consume you, you cling to the flicker of compassion that still burns within your heart, a beacon of light amidst the shadows. You had to fight against her demons with your light.
Heeseung's grip tightens on your head as he pounds into you with unrelenting force, his touch igniting a fiery ache that resonates through your exhausted body. With each harsh thrust, he draws you closer to the edge, his touch a symphony of sensation that pushes you towards the brink of ecstasy.
Your walls tighten around him, the feeling of your impending release building with each thrust. As you sense yourself slipping over the edge, elation consuming you in its fiery embrace, you try to banish thoughts of his old minder from your thoughts. The sight of her is far from erotic, and you struggle to maintain focus amidst the conflicting desires of Alaida that tug at your consciousness.
"Heeseung, please," you plead, your voice a desperate cry for respite from the haunting images that threaten to intrude upon your pleasure. 
Relenting to your plea, Heeseung releases his hold on your head, his hips slowing their frenzied pace as he responds to your need for a change in position. With a deft movement, he tosses your legs over his shoulder, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he locks you in place, your focus now on him as he leans over to kiss you.
The messy buck of Heeseung's hips betrays his impending climax, his jaw slack and eyes screwed shut as he fights to maintain control. The sight of you, glistening and writhing before him, threatens to throw him over the edge, but he grinds his teeth, determined to hang on just long enough for you both to reach the peak together.
With a newfound sense of intensity, he resumes his actions, expertly rubbing your clit. The rawness infuses your body, sparking a fire that becomes hotter with each passing moment.
"Cum for me, baby. Do it," Heeseung orders through the veil of pleasure, his voice husky with want as he drives you to release. In this moment of shared intimacy, there is no place for doubt as you give in to the euphoria, your shouts combining with his as you both succumb to overpowering pleasure.
You clench around him as you cum for the third time tonight. Every muscle in your body tenses as you reach the heights of your pleasure. Heeseung's release joins yours, his seed shooting into you and coating your walls. The sensation of his warmth flooding your depths only serves to intensify your own climax, amplifying the euphoria that courses through your veins.
He kisses you as your heartbeat steadies, his tongue whirling in your mouth as he pumps slowly into you before pausing his hips to let the final flow of his cum sit deep inside you. There’s that shine of red light as you take all of him, all that he offers. 
"Y/N..." Jaeyun's voice breaks the intimate moment, a soft plea tinged with desperation as his fist drags down the door. You can almost hear the tears in his eyes and the sorrow in his voice as he realises he has lost you; the doll, defeated, reflects the anguish of being replaced, claimed by another.
Heeseung strokes your face gently, his touch a soothing balm to your conflicted soul. He sees the war in your eyes, the shift between lust and guilt. "He doesn't understand you like I do, baby," he murmurs, his voice a blend of affection and firmness. His words wrap around you, reassuring you of the unique connection you share. 
You battle within yourself as you feel Alaida settle inside of you. If she has chosen you, then that means she must have always been here with you, through everything, a silent passenger in your life. But now, thanks to Heeseung, she has made herself known, you’ve let her in to become one with you.
She feels both euphoric and dangerous, her presence a heady mix of power and peril. Your heart aches to leap out of your chest, to be with Jaeyun, to comfort him in his pain, to tell him you're sorry and that it will never happen again. Yet, her yearning to stay with Heeseung, who cradles you with possessive tenderness, is overwhelmingly strong.
You realise you will need to find a balance between you and Alaida if this is how you are to live. You can sense the darkness within her, the same ominous aura that surrounds Heeseung, but you cling to your humanity, determined not to lose yourself completely. If she is to stay, she must let you take the lead.
And right now, you’re in desperate need to fix this.
Heeseung sees your demeanour change and slowly slides out of you with a wet slick, his cock glistening with your juices. Running his fingers through your hair which for some reason opens the floodgates of your eyes, the tears that you couldn’t weep earlier when facing Soonyeol suddenly come crashing down. 
“Y/N, why are you crying?” he asks puzzled, shushing you softly, “You wanted this life and now you have it. You should be happy.”
His tone is understanding but you can sense the annoyance underlining his words. He knows you’re still a human but he didn’t think you would be crying for the sake of a girl who you hardly knew. But it wasn’t just her you are crying for, it’s her dolls, your dolls. How are you meant to live happily in this house when all of them but Heeseung will probably detest you?
Even the thought sends a new rush of disdain to your heart, eliciting another sob from your lips. “I didn’t want it like this, the others will hate me and I can’t live like that,” you cry, sucking in sharp breaths to self-soothe yourself and prevent yourself from hyperventilating. Although you’re going through emotional turmoil, it’s nice to know that you’re still you after all.
“If they hate you, I’ll kill them,” Heeseung says, shrugging his shoulders and wiping your tears away, “If any of them even look at you the wrong way I will make sure they suffer.”
You don’t want that, you want nothing but their happiness inside this mansion and with what you’ve done, that might be hard for them to achieve. If Heeseung kills them or tortures them in any way, then it would only hurt you more. The tears flow freely as you think about the dolls and their fate, clinging to Heeseung’s wrists as you squeeze. “Heeseung, please,” you beg with the Prince, glancing up at him in hopes the waterworks are enough to persuade him to leave them unharmed.
He can’t blame them for hating you when you banished their lover to the hollow cell of the porcelain doll.
Rolling his eyes, he huffs out a frustrated growl. “Okay, I hear you, baby. Stop fucking crying.” His voice is curt and authoritative, but as you cower slightly, he softens. He places a tender kiss on your nose, his demeanour shifting from unimpressed to slightly more compassionate. Now that you harbour his first love in your heart, he’s become a bit more lenient with you.
“Just close your eyes and cover your eyes,” he murmurs, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Don’t move until I tell you to, okay?”
Obeying, you nod and close your eyes, your hands pressed against the canals of your ears. You cannot hear or see anything but just to make sure, Heeseung places his hands over yours and presses tight. The pressure on your head is sore but you grit and bear it.
He keeps you like this for a while, the very faint sound of his voice vibrating in your skull as the decibels run from his mouth down his doll form. You wonder if this is it? If he has found his Alaida, surely he could just whisk you out of this body and into a doll just as he had done Soonyeol. Your soul is merged with his lovers but that doesn’t mean you’re safe. Maybe he is already sick of you, maybe-
“Open your eyes, Princess,” he utters lowly, releasing his grasp from your head and kissing your forehead. 
He can’t get rid of you, because he loves you. Not as Alaida but as Y/N. His actions speak what he refuses to. There’s a new version of Heeseung standing in front of you, the version you witnessed as he fucked you a few weeks ago, the demon in him relenting to make way for his humanity to shine through. Heeseung said you were his and only his and he meant every word of it.
That does beg to question: what he has just done, if nothing to you?
You blink your eyes open and strain to focus your hearing. Silence greets you—no more cries from Jaeyun, no banging on the door from Jongseong, nothing at all. The first emotion you feel is fear, a petrifying dread that he might have taken them away from you. You cannot bear to lose them because then what was all of this for?
"Heeseung," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Where are they? What have you done?"
Heeseung's eyes soften momentarily as he strokes your cheek, but there's a sinister glint in his eyes. "They're fine," he reassures you, his voice low and deceptively soothing. "I haven’t hurt them... yet. I’ve rewound their soul clock to an hour ago. Anything that happened within the past hour is lost on them."
A shiver runs down your spine at his words, a stark reminder of the power he wields and the casual way he manipulates the lives around him. "What if they remember?" you ask, trying to keep the fear out of your voice.
Heeseung's smile is cold, his grip on your cheek tightening slightly. "They won’t, but if they do... well, I have ways of ensuring their silence." His tone is almost playful, but the underlying menace is unmistakable. “But if we want to keep this between us right now, we have some cleaning up to do.”
Swiftly, he moves to grab Soonyeol’s body, carrying her with disconcerting ease to the freestanding wardrobe and stuffing her in there. You sit in stunned silence, watching as he disposes of the lifeless form with a casual efficiency that makes your blood run cold. The contrast between his tenderness towards you and his ruthless treatment of others leaves you reeling.
You can't believe how easily everything has turned in your favour, or how effortlessly Heeseung wields his power. His dominance is both intoxicating and terrifying, and you realise just how deeply you're entangled in his web.
Heeseung closes the wardrobe door with a finality that sends a shiver down your spine. He turns back to you, his expression a mix of satisfaction and possessiveness. "See, Princess? There's nothing we can't handle together," he says, his voice low and smooth. “We will keep her in there for now until I move her car.  Can you distract them, baby?” 
Picking up your clothes, he hands them to you before getting himself dressed. Time is not on his side before Jongseong starts asking questions.
You look around the space and breathe a sigh of relief. Of course, it’s wrong to want your cake and eat it too, but nothing feels as good as this moment. This house, the dolls you love so deeply—they are all yours to own. And you have one Lord of the Flies to thank.
“Heeseung?” you begin, hopping off the table and walking to hug him tight. “Thank you.”
Shaking his head, he wraps his arms around you and kisses the crown of your head. “I will give you anything you want in this life. Anything for my girl.” Drawing back, you stare up at him, any emotion but gratification and love now vanished—it's amazing how quickly a guilty conscience can be smothered by love.
“Thank you for bringing her to me,” he whispers. You think he is talking to you directly, gratitude flowing in his words as you brought his Princess here. But he is talking to Alaida. The ancient demon knew you would be the perfect person to love Heeseung just as she had, and that is why you were chosen.
As you finish dressing, Heeseung's eyes follow your movements with a predatory intensity. “Distract them well, baby,” he says, his voice softening into a dangerous whisper. “Make sure they don’t suspect a thing. And put this doll back where you found it.”
Heeseung reaches around to grab the doll and kisses it softly, finalising his relationship with the soul within. He hands her to you with care, much more tender than the body she possessed. You like to think that the fondness he had for Soonyeol wasn’t just in the hopes that she was his long-lost lover but because they formed a bond. Perhaps that has more to do with your hope that Beelzebub withholds some humanity inside him in the form of Heeseung.
“Lock the door when you leave,” he asks, planting one final kiss on your forehead before retreating to the entrance to rid the house of Soonyeol’s car before the other dolls see.
You hold Soonyeol carefully, feeling the weight of the soul it contains. The doll's eyes seem to stare back at you, empty yet full of a lingering presence. You exit the room and lock it as instructed, cradling her in your arms as you walk up the hallway. The walk there is tiresome, in all honesty, you would just shove her on the first available spot but that’s just Alaida talking, you want to give her the respect she deserves. It’s the least you could do considering you did this to her.
Placing it gently in its original spot, you take a moment to steady yourself. You straighten her purple-tinted dress and fix her hair fondly, hoping that Soonyeol could at least find some peace inside the beautiful girl. The blood from Soonyeol’s body is still marked on the doll, so you quickly lick your thumb and wipe it away, the red staining your fingers.
Staring down at the blood, you feel compelled to suck the crimson up like a vampire in need of a feast. The metallic scent fills your nostrils, intoxicating and primal. You bring your thumb back to your lips and sip the blood, savouring her taste on your buds; she is sweet, just like her soul. The warmth of the blood sends a shiver of delight through you, a macabre indulgence that leaves you yearning for more.
Just in time, Jongseong appears beside you. Your stomach churns with dread, wondering if he would remember anything at all from the previous hour. Panic flares momentarily in your chest, but you force it down, steeling yourself.
To your relief, Jongseong doesn’t seem upset. Instead, he kisses your forehead tenderly, his lips lingering with a brotherly warmth. He gently wipes away the tears that had crusted on your face from earlier. “You’re going to miss this place, huh?” he asks, oblivious to the truth surrounding him.
Now is the time to put those drama classes you took when you were 14 to good use and fake it until you make it. Nodding pitifully, you pout up at him, your eyes shimmering with feigned sorrow. “I’m going to miss all of you more than the cleaning, I’ll say that,” you giggle, reaching for his hand, interlocking your fingers together.
The action makes Jongseong mirror your pout, his expression softening as he buys every word you say. “Fuck, I think we’ll all miss you, Jaeyun mostly though.” He goes to say more but he stops himself, making you tilt your head in wonder. A flicker of something crosses his face, a hint of a secret he’s holding back. 
Brushing it off, he shakes his head and smiles, trying to dispel whatever thoughts had crossed his mind. “Soonyeol isn’t home yet. Do you want a cup of coffee while we wait?”
This is your chance to keep them distracted, to lure them away from this side of the mansion while Heeseung cleans up your mess. With a beaming grin, you shake your head in agreement, “I would love one. Let’s grab the others.”
Pulling him in the direction of the kitchen, he wraps an arm around you and walks alongside you, unknowing of what is to come. You glance back at Soonyeol and suddenly, you see a tear fall from her ceramic eyes. She’s crying because she is watching you steal her life, her love, and she cannot do one thing about it.
A smirk plasters on your face and the red in your eye gleams at her sorrow, happiness filling your chest as you finally come to terms with the fact that your dreams have finally come true.
You’re home.
taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre
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c0ffeejelly1 · 1 month
Text
I know where the hole is!..I think.
-Bros the type to let you take control during his first time
Cw: smut smut smut um smut (virgins, like both of y’all soo) fem dom, thats all. (ALL CHARACTERS ARE TIMESKIPPED VERSIONS 🙏🙏 so basically of age.)
* “A-are you sure about this, babe?..”
* He felt like his heart was sinking to the deepest depths of his stomach with each passing moment.
* Is this a heart attack? Is this how it feels? Is he having one right now??!
* He was panicking. How the hell did he get himself into this position??
* “I mean, I don’t want to force you to do anything you might not like..”
* Who was he kidding? He knew damn well you wanted this! But he’d just never...
* “..we could always just..reschedule?”
* Reschedule? Seriously?
* Who the hell says, 'reschedule’ in this type of situation???
* What had he gotten himself into...
* He could practically feel his brain going into overdrive, the stupid word ‘error’ repeating in his mind.
* Why was his heart trying to wrestle its way out of his body?? Did it want him to die?!
* Is this organ failure? He doesn’t want to die!!..
* And the drips—no gallons of cold sweat running down his face like a marathon...
* Is this normal?!? Sweating this much??
* Could you see this? Was his face clammy looking??
* God, he hoped you were blind to his nervousness...
* This was such a stupid idea.
* And all because of his big ass, egotistical, lying, good-for-nothing mouth.
* If only he’d just said the truth to you...
* The truth that he’d never done something like..this.
* Something so intimate..something so deep..something like having-
* “Are you nervous?..”
* His eyes immediately open wide.
* Why were his eyes even closed to begin with?!
* This was so embarrassing..he could feel the blush on his cheeks rise even more as he avoided eye contact with her.
* “M-me?! Noo…not I’m nervous! I-I mean-..nervous I’m not! Ha..so let’s just um..”
* He gulped loudly.
* Are gulps supposed to hurt your throat?
* He’d have to look that up later...
* ..but back to the problem at hand!
* You were getting suspicious, which wasn’t good!
* And his arms remained laying either side of your head—not because he was experienced and knew what he was doing. No.
* only because he needed something to stop himself from collapsing down onto you like a nervous wreck.
* He was shitting himself.
* How was he supposed to do something like this to someone as gorgeous as you?
* And to think you were willing on your back presenting yourself to him in just your underwear...
* The way your bra would cup the two fruitful breasts he had no shame burying his face in, hiding the sinful buds he’d never seen in his life—actually, there was the one time he caught you in the shower, so maybe this wasn’t going to be his first time seeing you so- fuck. He’s getting distracted...
* But then there were your undies that shielded away your most vulnerable parts..and to think, you were giving that to him?.. Him????
* He doesn’t even know what he’s doing, y’know?
* You should know by now that he’s all talk, no action! He can’t touch you!
* The thing is..he’s never actually had sex! Okay?! He admits it!
* It was a lie!
* But you were just talking about how you want your first time to be amazing. He just-…
* He just didn’t want to seem lame to you! I mean, look at you!
* You were so beautiful..and he was just..there?
* And to think you wanted him to- to-..put his D in your P?? He’d probably finish on the spot!
* Just imagine how embarrassing that’d be...
* “Baby..”
* His head perks up at the pet name, his eyes meeting yours.
* “You’ve..never done this before, have you.”
* Fuck.
* Well
* It was good while it lasted, boys.
* He tried his best.
* Now he can finally crawl into a hole and die.
* He can’t lie to you when you look like this! You're practically naked, for Christ's sake! And he was in his boxers and- shit.
* Had a raging hard boner...
* He didn’t know a thing when it came to making women feel good...
* He’d watched sex videos before. Yes, he wasn’t a prude, but still.
* Did he know where exactly the hole was?
* …
* No.
* So how was he supposed to-
* “Lay on your back.”
* “..What.”
* “I said lay on your back.”
* “But then how am I gonna..“
* “I’ll do it.”
* “..y-you’ll wha-“
* How did he get himself into this mess?
* How did the only piece of clothing covering his most precious area end up on the floor?
* How did he find himself covering his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to stop the sinful sounds from escaping his lips..
* How did your mouth feel so good?
* “Ah..f-fuck baby..slow down a little..”
* His chest only moved up and down frantically, his breathing becoming heavier as his hand found a place in your hair. He was falling apart and was so close already...
* The way your tongue would flick at his tip, teasing it as you looked at him for a reaction.
* The way you would suddenly take him whole, causing his back to arch slightly and his head to fall back into the pillow behind him, a stuttery whine leaving his mouth.
* And then there were your hands..the way they would wrap around his cock so nicely, quick strokes being made, and the occasional massage of his balls.
* Fuck it was 'so good..’ as he would say it.
* you sure you were a virgin?
* This doesn’t seem like virgin behaviour to him...
* He was so deep in thought, so dazed that the only thing he could think of was coming undone.
* He felt good..way too good, so good that-
* “Baby!- w-wait..mhf!..ah-..I’m gonna cum..”
* “Y-Your mouth-..fuck..so good..sogoodd..”
* Then you stopped.
* ..why did you stop?
* Did he do something wrong? Why did you just...
* He felt his thoughts come to a halt as he watched you pull off your undies, his eyes wandering down to your..oh wow. You really were going to do this.
* You gently place a hand on his chest, using your other to grip his cock, causing him to suck in a breath at the sudden contact.
* He was sensitive and on the verge of finishing just from a slight touch..it was adorable.
* Your hips ride up above his pelvis just right enough for the lips of your pussy to wet his cock with your juices.
* Were you trying to kill him here?
* All he could do was watch and whine softly as he hoisted himself up with his elbows.
* He wanted to be inside you.
* Wanted you to take him
* Be his first, just as he was about to be yours.
* He needed it badly, and so you gave it to him.
* Sweaty, hot, messily.
* You were so beautiful...
* The way you held your tits from bouncing up and down while riding him, a hand still placed on his chest as your head slightly tilted back from the pleasure you were receiving.
* He was making you feel this good..him.
* He felt so embarrassed with the sounds that were falling from his lips—the whimpers, whines, and moans of your name—all just for you.
*Fuck he loved you.
* He was so in love...
* He couldn’t hold it in anymore. He could feel the coil in his stomach begin to tighten as his cock twitched inside of you.
*He was gonna cum
* And you knew that.
* You both did
* “Y-you’re so..t-tight..fuck.”
* “How do you f-feel this good?”
* “So beautiful..h-how did I ever deserve you?..”
* “Fuck d-dont clench around me like that baby..”
* “I wanna cum for you baby..please..”
* “I’m so glad you were my first time..”
* “D-don’t..say things like that..it’s so dirty..”
* “I-i can’t baby..i-I’m gonna-“
* A wonderful first time for both of you, if you ask me.
Characters I had in mind while writing this
REIGEN (mob psycho 100)
All might, present mic, DENKI, sero (my hero academia)
Hinata, NISHINOYA, KAGEYAMA, yamiguchi, bokuto (haikyuu)
ITTO (genshin impact)
POLNAREFF, mista (JOJO’S bizarre adventures)
Kagami, MIDORIMA (kuroko’s basketball)
Sanemi, HAGANEZUKA (demon slayer)
METAL BAT, king (one punch man)
GOJO (jujustu kaisen)
JEAN, Connie (attack on titan)
LEORIO, kite (hunterxhunter)
ONIZUKA (Great teacher onizuka)
Any character you would like
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suempu · 5 months
Note
hiiii could you write some nsfw headcanons for chilchuck with a reader who’s insecure about their body?
gn + implied human! reader + kinda dominant chilly chuckles
<3
oh my, that man is not good with emotions. one of his flaws is that he’s kind of bad at dealing with them since they leave him in a vulnerable state. it was no secret that he’s emotionally constipated, his past wife left him because of that.
but ever since you came along, chilchuck has been slowly improving, not wanting a repeat of what happened. he’s acknowledged that by loving someone, he needs to be able to be open with his feelings and become mindful of yours.
once you work up the courage to tell him, he visibly stiffens up. chilchuck is silent for a few seconds, he really wasn’t expecting this while he was kissing you up.
he spends a few moments awkwardly fiddling with the buttons of his half done shirt as he thinks of the right words to say.
“…. i… don’t really care about what you look like.”
okay. he could’ve worded that better.
“i-i mean! i enjoy being with you… for who you are.”
chilchuck’s biting his lip, looking at you hesitantly as he reaches a hand out to you. he’s looking anxious before you wrap your arms around his shoulders.
he yelps as he’s tucked into your chest, letting out a sigh of relief that you don’t seem upset. you pull away and look down at him with a smile.
“you suck at this.”
“i know.” he sends you a grin.
placing one hand around you, he pushes you gently to sit on the bed. he stands in front of you and holds your face, nuzzling into your nose which brings a laugh out of you.
“i know i’m bad at… this kind of stuff but i meant what i said.” he looks at you seriously, big ears twitching as hair strands falls to his face, rough and messy after your heated lip-lock earlier.
“i’m nothing but an old, brooding man. i love the way you make me feel and i want… you to l-love how i make you feel…. regardless of what you look like.”
he can see how you’re biting back a snicker as he tries to get his act together. chilchuck can feel his face getting hotter as he hears your bubbling laughter. but he’s glad you’re less nervous as before.
“y-you think this is real funny, do ya?” he yells out.
he’s kinda grumpy after all that, feeling a bit embarrassed that you laughed at him. after a few kisses smothered on to his face, he slowly gets back into the mood, making sure to pay extra attention to your reactions.
if you ever cover yourself up, he will give you a peck while slowly taking your hands off and whispering reassuring phrases.
he will kiss down your body as he keeps his eyes on you, forcing you to watch him. when he finds out which part makes you insecure the most, chilchuck will leave open mouthed kisses and suck a hickey on it.
with his enhanced hearing and senses, your quiet whimpers and gasps gets him going as he touches and feels you thoroughly with his fingers.
since this is your first time being intimate together as a couple, he makes sure to treat you softly and gently. he’s attentive to the spots that make you moan out the most, notices how you grip the sheets harder when he licks and sucks on a certain area. all of them noted in his head so he can figure out what else you’ll like.
chilchuck groans breathily, he’s kind of ashamed to lose control of himself, thinking it’d only embarrass himself.
“am i not making you feel good..?”
“where did this come from?”
“you don’t… make as much noises as i do. i’m wondering if i’m not doing enough.”
once he hears your reason, he immediately rushes to assure you. though still a bit hesitant, he’ll try to let go more the next time you’ll get intimate.
can i just say he’s skilled at giving oral. his hands and fingers can take you to god and back once he finally finds out what specific things you like. he loves being all in there, loves your smell, your sounds, your fluids.
he doesn’t say it out loud though. which makes you wonder why he keeps asking if you could fuck his face whenever you two do it.
“is this some sort of kink of yours?”
“just say yes or no!”
after one round, he can get pretty spent. but if you’re still needy, he can muster some energy to make love to you slowly.
oh, and he lives for lazy morning sex. sometimes you’ll wake up to him kissing down your shoulder and arm, whispering small ‘wake up’s to your buzzing ears.
aftercare with him is… well, lazy too. he’ll drop to your side, breathless as he stares up at the ceiling. after a few moments he’ll sit up and look down at you on the bed, whispering sweet praises as he holds your face.
he’ll smoke for a bit, facing away from you. he doesn’t want you to cough from the smoke after all.
drags you to the bathroom after a few moments. he hates being sweaty and you’ll have to kill him before you force him to snuggle right after sex.
chilchuck just doesn’t like feeling gross, he’d want to be clean as soon as possible. he will fuss over you during bathing. divorced father of three but with the way he’s acting makes him look like a mother.
he will scrub you down to the bone but will be less aggressive if you tell him it makes you uncomfortable.
“put your clothes in the basket, dry your hair, make sure you brush your teeth properly.”
“i always do! follow your own advice, you alcoholic.”
“i will drown you in this tub.”
what a nice and loving man, am i right
after bath time, he’ll lay on his side with nothing on but some underwear. his arm is around your torso as you fall asleep while he watches you with a soft smile, fingers tracing soft shapes on to your skin.
8/10 for being emotionally constipated but an A+ for trying. (i’m kidding he’s great)
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gojotojis · 4 months
Text
Butterfly pt. 1
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part two
This story will contain sexual assault, I beg you not to read if it will trigger you.
summary: you’re spiraling after a traumatic sexual experience and the only person that sees it is your neighbor.
pairing: gojo satoru x fem reader
content MDNI: mentions of sexual assault, sexual assault, alcohol abuse, depression, anxiety, drugs, ptsd, trauma, age gap, mentions of death/murder via movies
Note: this is actually so personal to me so pls be kind. this is a genuine depiction of my assault, this is me coping. I am in no way glorifying or romanticizing sexual assault, again this is my story. Writing is when I feel most safe and we are all strangers so I’m okay sharing this. Any hate, blame or criticism will be immediately blocked. Also virginity is a social construct.
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April
You had been so eager to give away your virginity, and he seemed so nice. He knew all the right things to say, how to make you feel like he really liked you.
He said he was a virgin which made you feel safe and comfortable enough to sleep with him. It started out as kissing which led to more.
You couldn’t help how nervous you were, frozen until he was flipping you onto your stomach. You became terrified when you felt him nudging at your back entrance.
“No,” you breathe, your heart hammered in your chest. You swatted at him but he forced your hands down.
“Please stop” you beg as you tried to squirm away, crying as you felt him pushing into you, tearing you open. You screamed, it was painful and he pulled away.
Your fingers swiped where he hurt you and blood coated them. You crawled away from him until you were grabbing your clothes and running away.
You’re traumatized, but it only worsens when you ignore him for days and he blows your phone up calling you a slut, ugly, fat and a whore.
He spams your phone with videos of him having sex with other girls, him telling you how you don’t compare and that he lied about being a virgin.
You feel like shit, and he pushes it further when he spams your Instagram and messages your friends, flirting with them and saying awful things about you.
You finally block him but the damage is done.
You loved reading more than anything but when a sex scene comes, you’re taken back to that night and the book is ruined.
You can still feel him forcing himself inside of you, it’s like it won’t stop. You cry in the shower, scrubbing your skin till it’s red and raw, hating yourself, blaming yourself for letting this happen.
For being so desperate that you gave something so intimate away to someone so awful.
You tell no one, too ashamed and disgusted with yourself .
Beginning of August
You climb up the stairs, AirPods on full volume with a Mitski song playing. Your fingers tap against your thigh as you hum to yourself.
You’re not paying attention, letting out a small ‘hmph’ when you collide with soemthing hard and fall to the floor on your butt. You’re embarrassed as you look up at the tall man looking down at you.
His hands outstretch to you as his mouth moves but you can’t hear anything over your AirPods. You spot his phone beside you, and grab it. You don’t take his hand as you stand up on your own but you do hand him his phone.
He’s peculiar to say the least, he’s always either wearing a black flindfold or sunglasses, today he’s wearing the blindfold. You have the urge to ask him why he wears it but that’s invasive and rude.
He moved in two months ago right across from you. He’s usually gone for days on end but when he is home, he’s always asking to borrow something from you whether it’s sugar, milk or eggs.
It’s slightly annoying but you’re too scared to tell him, you wonder if he’s ever heard of a grocery store.
His lips are still moving so you pull your AirPods out. “Huh?” You ask, furrowing your brows and lips parting
“Are you okay?” He asks and you nod staring up at him. You think he must be blind, literally and feel actually awful.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve been paying attention,” you say and then it dawns on you, what if he doesn’t go to a grocery store because he can’t see. You start overthinking and guilt racks through you.
“It’s my fault really, what are you listening to?” he asks, you’re confused how he knows you’re listening to music but then again it was blasted. You hold your phone up to him and then internally slap yourself. “Mitski, it’s called I bet on losing dogs,” you explain and he nods.
“I love that song,” he says and your eyes widen, he doesn’t look like he listens to her.
“What’s your favorite song?” You ask, genuinely curious. “What’s yours?” He asks and you don’t know why that makes you laugh for the first time in months. “I bet on losing dogs,” you say.
“That’s my favorite too,” he says, and you wonder if he’s flirting with you. Part of you blushes but the other part of you panics. Does he just want to sleep with you and hurt you? You try to shove the thought down, he asked a simple question.
“I should get going” you say staring at your shoelaces.
“See you around y/n” he says before he’s walking off and you wonder how he knows your name, you never once shared it with him and he’s never shared his.
Mid August
Your head tips back, eyes rolling. The sound of music drowns out as you feel yourself nearly seizing from the red and purple strobe lights. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve blacked out, your mouth tastes disgusting and your throat burns. The cause of it, lying in a puddle on the floor.
You lift your head up, to try and comprehend your surroundings. The girl beside you leans down, holding a rolled up dollar and snorts the thin white line off the table.
She sniffs and turns to you, offering you the dollar, you vowed to never touch that shit but part of you wonders if it’ll make you feel good, the way the alcohol does.
Your brains screaming no, begging you to leave but your fingers grasp it and she dumps more onto the table. She lines it up with a credit card and you hesitantly lean down, you choke a little as you snort it and sniff.
You slump against the sofa and slowly feel it take its effect. Your body feels so fucking heavy, it’s like you’re wearing a meat suit. You lift your fingers up and watch as they multiply when you wiggle them around, the girl pulls you up and drags you to the dance floor.
You’re like a rag doll in her arms as she makes you dance. Your head tilts back staring at the ceiling and you laugh, it’s dark and intoxicated. The music suddenly feels amplified and you’re clutching your ears, so fucking overstimulated and you panic, feeling the bodies grinding against you.
Your eyes water when you feel hands grip your waist from behind and they press against you. You’re pulling away from them and stumbling through the crowd, fighting your way to the exit.
Fresh air hits your lungs the moment you step outside and you inhale, closing your eyes.
Home, you have to go home.
You ignore the several people that ask if you’re okay as you stumble down the sidewalk, heels clicking against the pavement.
Relief fills you at the sight of your apartment building, once you reach it, you’re climbing the stairs until you miss a step and fall down. Your head smacks against the floor and little black spots cloud your vision.
“Fuck!” you hear, almost certain it’s your mind playing tricks on you until you feel large and warm hands gripping your face. Their touch is like electricity against your skin.
“Please let me die,” you mutter as a familiar blind folded face comes into view. He’s waving a finger infront of you and you go cross eyed.
“What did you take?” He tries to ask you but your hearing is muffled. His face is blurred but you can make out his lips moving.
You lift your arms up and reach for his face, your fingers graze over his lips and he stills. They’re soft and pink.
His hand gently grabs your wrist and moves your arm back down to your sides. His head tilts like he’s studying you as your vision slowly recovers along with your hearing.
“Can you hear me?” He asks and you nod weakly. He sighs before you feel his arm hook under your knees and the other around your back. He lifts you up and you shake against him.
“Please don’t hurt me,” you beg, his brows furrow but he doesn’t say anything. You’re trembling as he walks you to his apartment. He’s gonna hurt you, he’s gonna trap you and hurt you.
You squirm in his hold until you’re out of his arms and sliding down the wall. You cover your face and pull your knees to your chest. His hand touches your knee and you scoot away. He immediately retracts it.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise” he says as you peek between your fingers. His expression is so genuine, and concerned but he’s a man and you don’t trust them. Your brain feels like it’s working overtime trying to think as he lifts his pinky up.
“Please let me help you,” he says, his voice is soft as he kneels infront of you. Your shaky hand reaches toward his and your pinky wraps around his.
He smiles gently, and helps you up. He unlocks the door and guides you inside. You’re too fucked up to take in his apartment.
He pours a glass of water and hands it to you, before he’s handing you two pills of advil. Your pupils are dilated and you look so out of it, your breath reeks of vomit and vodka.
He’s not use to this, any of it. He’s never been in this situation and it’s frustrating because he wants to help you, he knows there’s an underlying reason why you shake and flinch from his touch. The way your eyes survey all exits and keep distance between you two.
Everytime he’s seen you in the halls, you’re listening to music in your own little world with your head down. You’re always shy, and timid.
“You can take my bed and I’ll take the floor,” he says not wanting to leave you alone incase you have a concussion.
Your throat tightens at the idea of sleeping in his bed, at falling unconscious where he can so easily hurt you but you’re tired, so fucking tired.
You hug yourself as you attempt to walk into the only bedroom in the apartment. You slowly climb into the bed, curling into a ball. He watches you from the doorframe, trying to make sense of what his eyes can’t tell him.
When morning comes, you’re gone.
September
You sigh, sifting through your purse for your keys. You push through several empty travel bottles of vodka and tampons, coming up empty. You hear two things behind you, keys jingling and a meow.
You turn around, one hand is holding your keys while the other has a black kitten pressed against his chest. You only care about the kitten at this point, you look up at him and he’s smiling at you.
“You dropped your keys,” he says but you’re itching to touch the fur ball in his arms.
“What’s it’s name?” You whisper not wanting to scare it.
“Dunno, just found him outside,”he says and you slowly reach out, petting the baby. It’s little mouth let’s out the most broken meow but it’s fierce and you smile.
“Are you gonna keep it?” You ask and he shakes his head making you frown. He walks toward his door and starts unlocking it.
“I can’t, I work too much” he says, opening his door. He walks inside, leaving the door open. You awkwardly stand there before peeking inside. You feel embarrassed about the events from two weeks ago, you’ve avoided him since. You can’t imagine what he must think of you.
You slowly walk inside, fingers clutching the ends of your oversized sweater anxiously. He sets the little guy on the floor and you immediately shut the door not wanting him to runaway.
“He’s gonna need formula,” you say, carefully dropping to your knees. You pull your hair from its ponytail and fling the tie across the floor. You giggle watching the cat dart after it.
You feel his eyes on you as absurd as it may sound considering the blind fold but you do. His lips twitch as he watches you play with the kitten.
“What’s your name?” you ask, something that’s been on your mind lately.
“Satoru, Satoru Gojo,” he says and you hum. It’s pretty.
“Thank you, for the other night. I’m sorry I kind of lost it on you,” you say, watching the cat run at you as your hand drags across the floor like a spider before it tickles him. His little feet kick at your wrist but it’s like a feather hitting you.
“That happen often?” He asks.
“No” you lie, admittedly you usually stop before you get super fucked up and you hadn’t touched coke till then. He doesn’t push and you’re grateful for it.
“So what’s the song of the day?” He asks and your brows furrow, arms chasing after the cat who starts running sideways.
“You must have another song you like,” he says shrugging.
“K. by Cigarettes After Sex, let me guess. That’s your favorite song of theirs too,” you say and he smiles.
“It’s like you’re stalking me,” he says and you laugh, it’s the cutest thing he’s ever heard, more so than the little creature that’s clawing his way up your thighs. His claws hooking into your jeans, determined to get you.
“Favorite album?”He asks and you indulge him.
“That’s hard, there’s so many,” you say, pulling the cat off before he can claw up your sweater.
“Top five,” he says making it slightly easier for you.
“Brand new eyes by paramore, all lana del rey albums, Trilogy by The Weeknd, anything FKA twigs and Wiped out by the neighborhood. You?” You ask and he shrugs, leaning against the doorframe to his bedroom.
“I don’t listen to music,” he says and your face scrunches, musics your love language and your safety net. It speaks and conveys what you can’t.
“Not one song?” And he shakes his head. His life must be so lonely and boring, you frown.
“I did listen to that Mistki song though, depressing much?” He asks and you roll your eyes.
“Well, yes but that’s what makes it so good,” you say and he doesn’t argue. You wish you could see his eyes, eyes speak a thousand words.
“Favorite movie?” He asks, this is sadly the most anyone’s ever asked about you, you feel guilty that part of you is living for this attention.
“Bones and All, Suspiria, Django Unchained, Dune and Pearl,” you say.
“I’m seeing a pattern here,” he says and you raise a brow. “You don’t listen to music but you watch movies? And what may that be?” You ask. The little voice in the back of your head is begging you to go home, he’s only doing this to get in your pants, why else.
“Nah but one of my students seen some of them, I’ve heard all about Pearl and her axe,” he says, watching the kitten swat your hair tie around.
“She’s just a girl,”you shrug, and his lips tug into a smirk. You don’t like the feeling that takes over, the butterflies that swarm your stomach. Handsome doesn’t do him justice, he’s beautiful even when you can’t see his eyes. From his undercut to his jaw, and his tall lanky stature, he carries himself like he’s the highest predator up the food chain. It’s not threatening, it’s…sexy.
“I forgot American Psycho” you add and his eyebrows raise nearly to his hairline before he’s bursting into laughter.
“What? It’s hilarious satire and Christian Bale is…hot,” you say. He wants to ask you a question but thinks better of it, this is the most you’ve ever spoke and he doesn’t want it to end.
“Are you a teacher?” you ask, lingering on what he said moments ago.
“Yeah, you?” he asks. You dropped out of college, feeling too stupid and incompetent, in all honesty you’ve never seen a future for yourself and it feels embarrassing.
“Bookstore,” you say.
“So you like books?” he asks and you give him a look that screams ‘duh’.
“I do, I’d tell you my favorite book but you probably already know it since it’s yours too,” you say as the kitten comes running at you. You gently slide him across the floor and he runs back, loving it.
“Guilty, but you should probably tell me just incase we aren’t on the same page,” he says, you hate the smiles he keeps making appear on your face.
“Normal People”you say, you wonder why he wants to know all these things and what they matter to him.
“It’s like we’re the same person,” he says, you wonder if this works on the girls. You don’t want it to work on you.
“He looks like a Salem,” you say looking at the black cat that’s just obsessed with you.
“I think he’s found his mom,” Gojo says and you want to argue against it but you don’t because he’s right, you’re keeping him.
End of September
You sit on the couch with Salem curled in your lap and a bowl of popcorn beside you, you’re ready to start the movie until someone’s knocking on your door. You feel your anxiety fester but push it down.
You carry the kitten as you walk to the door and look through the peep hole. Your breathing hitches at the sight of Gojo in sunglasses, you swear he hasn’t been home in two weeks but like he said he’s always working.
Now that you think of it, that’s so odd. He’s a teacher who’s never home and works odd hours. You try not to overthink it as you open the door.
Gojo beams at you and the little guy in your arms. He reaches out and starts scratching underneath Salems little chin which sends him into a purring fit.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hey,” you answer, unsure of what else to say.
“What are you doing?” He asks.
“I was gonna watch a movie,” you say looking back at the lit tv screen, but you remember he can’t see.
“Pearl?” He asks and you’re slightly eager to put it on for him. Your life is lonely, you’ve stopped talking to everyone. Your bestfriend pushed you away months ago and nobodies really cared to see that you’re okay. Your mom and grandma constantly call but you can only take so much criticism.
You try to contemplate the pros and cons. Gojos been nothing but nice, he’s slightly funny and because of him you have Salem. Cons: he’s flirty and a man. Your stomach stirs, and your body tenses as you open your mouth.
“Would you like to watch it with me?” you ask, trying not to let your mind wander off to that dark place in your head.
“Okay,” he says and you step back, letting him enter your dim apartment. He takes his shoes off and looks around, taking in the hues of greens, browns and white along with the various plants that take up space.
There’s a picture of you as a little girl with two other kids that look just like you, a boy and girl on the wall, some family photos, graduation picture and baby pictures. You were so adorable, still are.
Your place is a contrast to his. His is fairly empty with a few hints of grey, white and navy.
He sits on the opposite end of the couch as you put on Pearl, Salem leaves you to cuddle in Gojos lap. Traitor.
“Song of the day?” he asks before you start the movie.
“Good to love by FKA twigs” you say and hit play.
You usually hate when someone talks during a movie but you’re desperately wanting to know his thoughts during every scene. He laughs through most of it,
“Did she really just set her mom on fire and then leave to go have sex?” He asks, you bite your lip. “She’s just a girl,” you say and he shakes his head. You reach into the bowl for popcorn and feel his fingers graze yours, his touch is like static and you get goosebumps. You pull away as subtly as possible, you hope you don’t give off the wrong message by all of this.
“She’s deranged,” he says as she stabs the projectionist with a pitchfork repeatedly.
“Christ, who gave this girl an alligator,”he says when Pearl pushes the man’s car into a pond and an alligator eats at his remains.
By the time the movies over, he’s leaving. He says he has to work in the morning but he types away at his phone before handing it to you, your names written on a contact, waiting for your number.
You try to hide your surprise and hesitantly type your number in.
October
Gojo: song?
you: Haunted by Beyonce
Gojo: starting to think you’re working for the government
you: how so
Gojo: only a fed would know all my favorite songs
you: you sound crazier than pearl
Gojo: utterly insane
You enjoy Gojo’s company, still hesitant but he hasn’t given you a reason not to trust him.
Mid October
You hum to The Party and the After Party by The Weeknd, sending a link to Gojo as you walk.
You: song of the century
Read at 8:08pm
You’ve been crafting a playlist for him, you’re embarrassed by it though, what if he thinks it’s lame. You title it ‘Peals Greatest Hits’ and make the cover a picture of pearl with a pitchfork, you think he’ll laugh at that.
It’s nice having a friend again.
You wait for Gojo to respond but he doesn’t, he’s probably busy. This time he’s been gone for three days and you don’t question it. You’ve managed to learn little things about him, he’s told you about his students Megumi, Yuji, and Nobara.
He even raves about his students from last year, Toge, Yuta, Maki and a student he simply calls P, you tried to ask what the P stands for and he said Pedro which you laughed, kind of an uncommon name here but you don’t push it.
He’s mentioned his family and the pressure they’ve put on him, how he’s like the golden child of his family.
He actually laughed when you asked if he was blind, your cheeks heated up as he told you he has really bad sensitivity with his eyes which still made you feel bad for him.
You reach your building and start your walk upstairs, eager to see your cat but stop when you reach the top. You’re not sure why it bothers you when you see Gojo with a woman going inside his apartment. She’s pretty, sharp features and glossy eyes. A mole under her right eye. You wait for them to go inside before you make your way to your apartment.
Maybe you’re a creep but you stare through the peephole for what feels like hours, waiting for her to leave but she never does. You wonder if Gojo has a girlfriend, wouldn’t he have mentioned it? But then again he’s a man, when do they ever.
End of October: Halloween
You try not to feel insecure in your pink tights and red bodysuit, this is the most revealing you’ve looked since before that night.
You watch as a row of lemon drop shots line up infront of you, the girls you’ve made friends with since you came in, all cheer and clap as you knock back shot after shot. You order six more courtesy of your blonde friends tab, the bar tenders hesitant but you bat your lashes and just like that you’re getting your way.
The liquor helps to take away from the insecurities, you stop worrying if your stomachs too big or your arms too bulky and relax. Several hands pull you to the dance floor and you dance with them, one of the girls hands you a blunt and you smoke it. You spend the night smoking and drinking till you’re absolutely fucking cross faded.
Once you’re at your apartment building, you’re literally crawling up the stairs. You stop when two sets of shoes come into your view, you slowly look up to Gojo and the woman from two weeks ago looking down at you.
“Should we call someone?” The woman asks.
“Nah, she’s mine,” Gojo says pulling you up off the floor. You stumble backwards but he catches you before you fall, pulling you toward him.
“I’ll see you later” the woman says, walking off and he nods. He’s scooping you up into his arms.
“What are you suppose to be?” He asks.
“Scarwit bitch” you slur and he laughs.
“Scarlett Witch?” He asks and you nod.
You’re disappointed when he takes your keys and opens your apartment door. He carries you to your bedroom.
“What did you do, rob Barbie?” he asks looking around your pink room, you’re too tired to comment as he sets you down on your bed.
He brushes your hair out of your face.
“Thanks Toru,” you whisper.
November
Gojo: you hungry?
You: yes…
Gojo: what do you want to eat?
You: pizza, meat lovers and Hawaiian.
Gojo: pineapple on pizza? we have to find a dealbreaker eventually
Gojo: in or out?
You: in
Half an hour passes and there’s a knock on your door. You open it to Gojo with two boxes of pizza, he sets them down while you grab plates.
“song?” He asks, he hasn’t missed a day and you don’t know that he’s made a playlist with each one you give him.
“Kimdracula by deftones,” he subtly adds the song to his playlist as you open up the box. Your belly rumbles as you take a slice of each.
He wastes no time, eating while you take little nibbles. You don’t like eating infront of people, not after being so degraded on your body by the only person that’s seen it naked. Your appetite sours and you set your pizza down.
“Do want to watch X? It’s the technical sequel to Pearl,” you say, he couldn’t give a shit about that deranged girl but you like her so he likes her.
He nods and you wash the pizza grease from your hands, he does the same and you both are moving to the couch. Salem jumps up, of course he picks Gojo as you shuffle through your movie selection before clicking on X.
You feel your face redden forgetting they’re literal fucking pornstars filming porn.
“She looks exactly like Pearl, what the fuck,” he says and you laugh.
You subtly look away, during the sex scenes. They aren’t unbearable but it’s just uncomfortable for you.
“Like sixty years later and she’s still creepy as shit” he says when it gets to the scene of Pearl staring over Maxine while she sleeps.
Gojo actually leans forward pushing his sunglasses up, utterly engrossed in the movie as everyone starts getting killed off one by one. He cringes at Lorraine’s death which you do too. And he cheers when Maxine runs over Pearls head.
“You can have Pearl, Maxine’s mine” he says making you roll your eyes.
“Guess you’ll be happy to know Maxine has her own movie coming out next year” you say.
“Oh we’re so seeing that,” he says and you internally smile but that little voice in the back of your head reminds you, he’s just a man.
You try to ignore it but you feel inclined to ask, “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“What?” He asks with his brows raised.
You actually feel silly asking the question, because how are you supposed to casually mention the girl you’ve seen him with without sounding like a stalker.
“Just asking,” you say innocently.
“Nah, I never have the time for that stuff. Ive been on dates but that’s about it,” he says and you can’t help that words that blurt out.
“So you’re a virgin?” you internally slap yourself once the words leave your lips.
“No” he says laughing at how hard you’re blushing.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be invasive” you say and he shakes his head.
“It’s fine,” he’s hesitant to ask but he does.
“Are you a virgin?” he asks and tears roll down your cheeks.
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babyjakes · 10 months
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〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | kinkmas 2023
prompt | sex shop
pairing | sex shop owner!andy barber x innocent!reader
warnings | age gap (reader sees andy as a total dilf.) reader is very innocent and also so scared to be there (understandably.) soft!andy, comforting vibes, he talks her through everything. humiliation kink is strong in this one. no real smut, just suggestive themes (sex shop, toys, talks of solo and guided masturbation.)
word count | 987
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an | this little story is dedicated to andy's #1 girl, @worksby-d 🥺 dest i super hope you enjoy our favorite dilf here!! i tried to make him the big warm teddy bear we know and love, with a little hint of naughtiness shining through at the end hehe <3 happy holidays to you friend!!
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imagine going to a sex shop for the very first time, aalllll by yourself, and meeting a very handsome dilf who helps you pick out your very first big girl toy 😏
parking as far away as possible (it’s at the end of a little strip mall in a tiny little town you’ve never been to before, you wanted to make sure you wouldn’t bump into anyone you knew!) spending like 10 minutes just sitting in your car hyping yourself up, you’re so nervous but you’ve wanted to do this for so long 🥺
eventually you build up your courage and make your way up the parking lot, to the front door of the place. a little silvery bell rings as you enter. you’re surprised at how clean and neat the place is. you weren’t sure what to expect, but this is better than you had been hoping. it’s not too big, a single large room with a counter in the middle. at first glance, you're alone, no other customers or employees in sight
the store has different sections with hanging signs directing you where to go. you can feel heat rising in your cheeks as you pass the racks of lingerie and intimates. just as you make it over to the toys for her section, you hear something from across the little shop. looking over, you see someone has entered through a doorway in the back. a man, but you don’t get too long of a look. your eyes quickly drop to the ground as you feel your embarrassment worsening
please don’t come over here. please don’t come over here. please don’t-
your silent prayers are ignored as footsteps approach. you take a step back from the wall of products, forcing yourself to look up at the stranger. your jaw almost drops at the sight of him, oh god, you’re thinking to yourself, why is he hot 😭
there andy stands in all of his glory, the epitome of dilfy deliciousness with his worn navy t-shirt and scruffy beard. scratching his head a bit awkwardly, he greets you, “hey, sorry. didn’t meant to startle you. can i help you find anything?”
your heart’s pounding in your throat as you look around stupidly before your eyes return to the absolute unit of a man before you. you blink like a deer in the headlights. oh my god. he works here, you’re a little slow to put things together
andy sees your surprise, letting out a gentle chuckle. “i’m the owner,” he explains. “you okay, honey? you look like you’ve seen a ghost”
a part of you knows this is an extremely sketchy situation. you’re alone in a sex shop with a dude probably twice your age (who apparently owns the place), out in a town you can’t remember the name of, with nothing to defend yourself except your two bare hands (which are now shaking)
but there’s something about the man before you that you just find so… warm? disarming? (…attractive? 😳) the gentle smile on his face, the way he softens his voice when he senses your nervousness...
you’re a little ball of conflicting feelings, half nerves and half head-over-heels for this unknown man. again, you blink, unable to find your voice to respond
“you’re alright, just take it easy,” he tries to help you relax. “this your first time in a place like this?” all you can manage is a nod. he gives you an understanding smile, “that’s perfectly fine. i’m here to help. can you tell me what you’re looking for, sweetheart?”
your eyes glance quickly back at the wall of toys in front of you before returning to him. he must see the increasing humiliation on your face. “u-um…” you’re finally able to stutter, “i-i don’t… i’m not… i guess i'm…”
he’s so patient and attentive it’s only making the butterflies in your tummy worse 😭 “not sure where to start?” he finishes for you. when you nod, he hums thoughtfully, “that’s okay, honey. do you have anything already that you like? is this for you to use on your own?"
you grit your teeth, nodding through the waves of embarrassment. “d-don’t have anything, sir. looking for something to start out with”
“i see,” he nods, looking over the selection on the wall before the two of you. “a bullet is a great beginner toy. simple, quiet, different levels of intensity to fit your needs. do you like clitoral stimulation?”
you have to fight yourself to keep from rubbing your thighs together right then and there 😩 something about the way he’s talking you through everything is sooo 🥲🥲 a feeling of dread hits as you realize you’re already getting wet
you force out a nod. he looks at a few options before picking out a small, discreet box. offering it to you, he explains, “this one’s my favorite. it’s nice and smooth, hard to hurt yourself with. rechargeable, medical-grade silicon. six levels of intensity. and the pink matches your nails,” he says sweetly, nodding at the shiny polish on the tips of your fingers
you clumsily accept the box, looking it over briefly. “there are instructions on the inside. the internet can be helpful too,” he suggests. the burning in your tummy worsens as he sees right through you, sniffing your complete innocence and inexperience with ease
“o-okay. this looks good. thank you,” you agree
“of course,” he nods with a sheepish smile. “once you get comfortable with that, we can work you up to something more sophisticated” you never implied that you’d be returning to him, but now that he’s said it, you know you couldn’t refuse. “and if you have any trouble, you can always come see me. i got a room in the back, we can take some time and find what works for you”
i might have to write that follow-up visit someday this is making me 🫠🫠
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hanasnx · 1 year
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mmmm what do you think of reader who’s shy to look in anakin’s eyes while he’s all about eye contact and forcing her to look at him as he’s fucking the life out of her 👀
- 🐚
MINORS DNI 18+ PART ONE ✩ PART TWO NOTES: so. i love this prompt sm bcos i rly believe ani has such a need for eye contact in his life in general and it’d def translate into his sex life ughhh
! ── for anakin, eye contact is very important. he’s one of those people that doesn’t remember to avert his eyes, and makes people uncomfortable with how unwavering his gaze is. how it holds, and how it bores. if someone’s talking to him, he tries to look into their eyes because it’s a sign of respect for him. if he doesn’t like somebody, if they annoy him or he can’t stand their vibe or their opinions on things,, he rarely looks them in the eye. does anything to avoid it really.
! ── so that sense of need for eye contact translates in his sex life. if hes doing you, he likes positions that allows him to see your face. missionary variants, mating press, sitting on his lap or riding him, standing over you while youre on your back and taking him,,,, (ofc he loves other positions, but these are the ones that matter to this prompt rn)
! ── he’s such an intense person. he’s so severe and possesses such a heavy presence. intimidating, and daunting sometimes you get overwhelmed looking at him. a victim to his gaze that you lose yourself in, and you constantly worry you’ll remain there forever. so you avoid it, especially in public, or you’ll be hopelessly entranced where anyone could see.
! ── anakin doesn’t realize that, and only sees that you avoid his eye contact. to him, it’s suspicious, it’s disrespectful, and he doesn’t care for it at all. by you evading it, you don’t understand how it makes him feel. which is all the more reason to demand it from you when you’re alone together.
! ── you’re so vulnerable. completely bare, so enraptured you can’t even think. how could you consider looking at him now? its like youre embarrassed to share such an intimate moment with him
and he’s tired of it. “look at me.” he tells you, while he’s balls deep in you. you can’t answer. “i want you to look at me.” another plea, as if giving you a reason would be enough for you to comply. unable to even consider the notion, your brain is filled only with warm goo oozing around with each thrust. how could you form a thought?
so he helps you focus. his hand grabs your face so harshly, pinching your cheeks together, pursing your lips. your eyes fly open at the ache in your jaw, and you’re met with your vision consumed by him. boring into your gaze with his own, directing you by his hold on your face to watch him through your brows. “i said, look at me.”
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clovestreet · 1 year
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let me- ethan landry
an: i am absolutely FERAL for this man atm...😨i just had to write something abt him..
summary: you have been super stressed about exams lately and ethan knows the best way to make you feel better. (also this is DEFINITELY more soft ethan??) but i like that.. lol
warnings⚠ SMUT (16+), oral (f receiving), strong language
Hell on earth was organic chemistry.
Your absolute fucktard of a professor had scheduled your exam on the same day as two of your other exams. This man had it out for you.
You massaged your temple as you drummed your pencil on your notes. Your brain wasn't functioning anymore. You had been sitting at this godforsaken desk for three hours now. You needed a break.
You forced yourself out of your chair and faceplanted on your bed next to your boyfriend in defeat. You sighed into the mattress and tried to gather your thoughts.
"Something bothering you baby?" your boyfriend laughed as he rubbed small circles into your back, clearly amused by your frustration with trying to memorize aromatic compounds.
"I can't do this anymore E, "I'm actually so exhausted."
"I wish someone would just kill the stupid bastard." you groaned into your palms.
Ethan gulped and immediately froze in his movements and you weren't sure why. But then he was comforting you again like nothing had happened.
"I'm sorry baby. If it makes you feel better, I just failed my last exam."
You laughed as he pulled you closer, the grasp of his arms melting away your stress.
"Honestly, I don't know if anything could make me feel better at this point.”
“Unless you can teach me the structure of carboxylic acid." you said with your hands on his chest staring into his dark eyes.
His chest shook with laughter and it was music to your ears. Ethan was so comforting and even being in his arms took you to a place far away from your worries.
"Definitely can't do that, but I think I can take your mind off it for a little while." he murmured into your lips.
"Oh yeah? How's that?"
"Well it usually starts with my head between your legs” he says in a low whisper.
You immediately feel your cheeks flush with warmth and squeeze your legs together.
You completely froze and waited for him to finish his sentence.
“ ..And ends with you screaming my name or something like that." he says with a devilish smirk.
He grins like a lovesick bastard at your embarrassment and tilts his head down to connect his lips to yours. He smiles into the kiss and you can feel your pulse weakening at the way his tongue explores your mouth.
His lips travel down your neck and you know exactly where he's going. You pull him off of you and look him in straight in his hazy brown eyes.
You and Ethan had been together for a little over a year now and you had been intimate more times than you could even begin to remember. You still got nervous before he went down on you and you just couldn't help but feel insecure sometimes, but Ethan always made you forget about all of it when he touched you.
"E, are you sure? You really don’t have to, I-”
He immediately stops you with a confused expression on his face.
“Baby are you kidding? I live for this shit.”
“I should probably get back to studying E, I just-"
He cut you off again, this time taking your head into his hand and made sure you met his gaze.
"Fuck studying. Let me make you feel good babe."
His thumb gently brushed over your cheek as he searched your eyes for an answer.
"Ok, fine." you said softly with a shy smile on your face.
"That's my girl." he said with a grin spreading over his face as he placed the softest kiss on your lips.
His fingers danced their way over your ribs under your shirt and his lips were placing gentle kisses on your hipbones. His fingers made their way down to the waistband of your shorts and his eyes quickly glanced up to yours asking for consent. You quickly nodded your head, becoming more and more eager for him to touch you by the second.
He pulled down your shorts gently and tossed them behind him. He hooked his fingers under your lace panties and pulled them down painfully slow. Once they were off, he grabbed both of your legs and put them over his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around your legs and pulled them open.
He looked up at you through lustful eyes while licking his lips.
"I got you. Always." he said in a low whisper placing a kiss on your inner thigh.
You brushed a gentle hand over his curls and offered a weak smile to him. You could feel your anticipation for his touch becoming stronger and your legs were shaking before he even touched you.
You could feel his breath on you and you couldn't take it anymore. You wrapped your fingers in his curls and guided him onto you.
He licked up your slit as you sucked in a shaky breath. Your thighs immediately clenched around him, but his strong hands pulled your legs right back open. His tongue started to circle around your clit and your fingers were already tugging on his curls. He groaned into you and the vibration had you letting out a choked moan.
"Right there E." you gasped.
He looked up at your face contorted in pleasure and started to grind his hips onto to the bed. Ethan was the kind of boyfriend who genuinely could get off from pleasuring you and have absolutely no shame about it.
He was lost in the taste of you and you were lost in his touch. You couldn't even remember what you were stressed about in the first place. Your mind was consumed by the feeling of his tongue sloppily tasting you and swirling around your clit, the tight grip of his fingers prying open your thighs, his dark eyes peering up at you through hooded lids occasionally rolling back into his head every time you moaned his name.
His hand slid carefully down your thigh as he slipped his middle finger into you, pumping in and out at a deliciously slow pace.
Your fingers tugged harder on his curls and he practically moaned into you.
"F-feels so good E, you're so good" you whined.
"I know baby I know, I'm gonna get you there I promise." he murmured into you, pressing wet kisses on your clit.
His words made you toss your head back and your back arch off the bed.
He slipped another finger into you, pumping a little faster this time.
Your fingers loosened from Ethan's hair and slid down his bare shoulders. His fingers started to curl inside you, purposefully hitting the spot he knew would send you over the edge. You moaned loudly and your nails dug into his back.
He groaned into you so loudly it almost caught you off guard. If you hadn't known better, you would have thought you hurt him. But you knew better by now. His sounds sent you even closer to the edge.
"Come on babe, let go for me." he breathed into you.
You could feel yourself impossibly close to your high with Ethan's gaze trained on your face. The second Ethan's nose rubbed your clit you were done for.
All you could do was moan his name over and over again, your nails digging into his back sure to leave marks. He fucked you all the way through your high until you were practically dragging him off of you.
You put your hand on the back of his neck and guided him toward your lips. God, he was so beautiful, even with the taste of you glimmering all over his features. You pulled him down into a breathless kiss and brought him closer by draping your leg over his waist.
He drew back and cupped your jaw looking down at you.
"I really hope you're not thinking about studying anymore tonight, because all I want to do-"
"Shut up and kiss me Landry."
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adamarks · 4 months
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The thing is. Not gonna put this on fox’s post bc it’s a tangent. Anyway the thing is Ed and Stede are kinda codependent? What they are, though, is a) two animals who have pair bonded and b) ed seems to have more of an actual clinical depiction of codependency.
The big thing about codependency is that it’s not actually “one partner keeps the other partner good and pure and keeps them from being Mean and Bad.🥺” Codependency’s whole thing is control. It’s a saviour complex. And THE THING IS? It doesn’t work. You cannot “save” a person from being themself, from engaging in their addiction, from hurting themself. They need to make the executive decision to change, the codependent person cannot do that for them. Thus it becomes a cycle. Try to save -> see that they’re not doing what you want -> get angry/upset/punish yourself for not succeeding/sink with them -> rinse and repeat.
Izzy? Now HE is codependent on Ed. You can be codependent on someone who is perfectly fine. He tries to control Ed’s every move, doesn’t succeed, and inevitably gets angry. If you pick up an on god actual textbook, or like any Melody Beattie book, you will see that he is the very definition of codependency.
Cycling back to Ed, though. I do think he’s codependent. You don’t kill your alcoholic father to protect your mother. We don’t mysteriously never see his mother again and know that he went to sea at a young age for no reason. He tried to save her, it backfired. A woman telling her child that they’ll never have better because god decided they’d be miserable is not ready to be saved, is not ready to get out of an abusive situation.
Then, of course, there’s Jack. Jack is eternally getting Ed to do shit for him. To help him because he’s so helpless uwu or whatever. A douchebag who can’t seem to take care of himself and is on the hunt for someone to cater to him??? Mmm yummy! A codependent’s dream! In the episode, he caters to Jack’s every whim, makes excuses for him, and finally does the “sinking with him” thing when he inevitably pushes too far. This is partly because of Jack’s manipulation, partly because that’s what Ed’s family situation had been.
Now that we’ve established all of that, back to my original point: you don’t stop being codependent just because you get into a healthy relationship. I’m certain that a small part of the breakup era sads was that yet again he’d done something huge, sacrificed something big, and his efforts had gone wholly unwanted, just like what he’d done for his mom. And then there’s that fear. Ed knows the power that people he loves have over him. He knows how he acts in love! He knows how much it hurt when Stede left him! It makes sense, then, that he would run away when he sees Stede doing something he’s not too keen on (going full pirate party animal when Ed doesn’t want to be a pirate anymore). It’s fantastic that he’s running away though! He’s not doing shit he doesn’t want to do to humor Stede like he did with Jack. He’s not trying to force Stede to change directions. He’s not trying to control the situation! He’s seeing that he’s freaking out and he’s removing himself. Albeit poorly, but this is a step closer to being able to actually communicate things. He realizes he’s the variable he can change in dynamics.
So to close up, yeah the relationship is maybe a little codependent but not in the way people seem like to say? It’s codependent in that Ed has codependency issues and those will inevitably crop up in any deeply intimate relationship you’re in. It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be in a relationship. It doesn’t mean that the relationship is bad or unhealthy. It just means you’re a human person with shit to work on.
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fieldofdaisiies · 2 years
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Azriel x Reader | The Beauty of Intimacy
type: smut (& a bit of angst) warning(s): explicit descriptions, curse words, mature language word count: 3.1k words
request: Hi could you write some thing where reader and azriel have been in a relationship for a little bit but whenever azriel tries to like do anything with her she brushed him off and be begins to think she’s not attracted to him but then she tells him that it’s because she’s never really had a positive experience with sex and so azriel shows her how amazing sex with him can be and like just worships her??? Srry this is so specific but I love your writing and would love to read this!!
- all rights reserved -
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"Is it because of the scars?" Azriel’s demeanour is solemn, his shadows calm, his eyes empty, sad.
A small crack appears in your heart and you quickly lift your gaze to meet your lover’s. "No," you say. "No, of course not."
Crossing one leg behind the ankle of the other Azriel leans his shoulder against the doorframe. Then his head, and his eyes close for a long moment. 
"What is it then? Y/N, please tell me." He is almost begging you to be honest with him, his tone desperate. As desperate as all his attempts for the two of you to be intimate have been. It isn't that you don’t want to sleep with him. It is way more complicated. You have never found pleasure during sex, you have never had one single positive experience and at this point you think it is because of you. Yes, you blame this lack of sensual heights on yourself. Maybe you simply cannot enjoy it? Maybe you do something wrong? Maybe there is something wrong with you?
"I thought you weren’t a virgin. Did you not tell the truth when we talked about our past? Are you scared? Nervous?” Azriel asks and blinks his eyes open. "I don’t care at all, we can go slow. But please, just tell if it has something to do with me. If it is about me. Are you not attracted to me? Not sexually attracted?"
Gods, you are. There is no male who is only half as beautiful as Azriel, and you are more than attracted to him. 
"I am no virgin and that is not the problem—"
"Then what is the problem? I don’t want to push you. I don’t want to force you to have sex with me, but I would like to understand. That is all. I just want to understand," Azriel says, his voice turning softer and gentler. He pushes off the wall and slowly makes his way over to the bed you sit on.
His throat burns when his mouth parts to ask one last question. "Did someone hurt you? Did someone touch when you didn’t want it? You can be honest with me. Always."
You love Azriel so much. And especially for that. For how good his heart is, how thoughtful he is, how understanding.
Sliding your hands over his, you draw in a deep breath and give your head a shake. "No. Thank you for asking, but no." Azriel exhales a shuddering breath of relief.
Leaning forward, you let one hand slide up his arm to his neck, you lips meeting his in a soft and quick kiss. "I just don’t like…sex."
"Sex is something beautiful," Azriel says and a sheepish smile blooms on his face.
The corner of your own mouth moves up at how adorable he looks. "Is it?” You raise your brow.
Azriel nods his head frantically and places his thumb under your chin, tipping it up. "One oft the most beautiful things in this world, I might say." His eyes have turned darker, the shadows becoming alive around his figure. The shadowsinger’s posture changes from formerly rather reserved to confident and he rolls back his shoulders, sitting straighter now. Your eyes meet, and warmth fills your body.
Nervousness coats your insides, your skin prickling. "I am not sure if I am…capable of having sex. Good sex, I mean. There is not one positive experience I have made and I am over 500, Azriel. It must have something to do with me."
A low chuckle leaves the shadowsinger and he gives his head a tiny shake, silken strands of onyx hair shifting with movement. "There is nothing wrong with you, I am 100% positive about that."
You love his certainty, but you can’t quite agree with him.
"Why don’t I find it… pleasurable then?"
"Because you may have not yet been with the right male," Azriel says, his brow lifting in an almost cocky way. It is this slight arrogance that changes his demeanour that makes your toes curl and the hair on his body stand. 
Your voice becomes a breathy whisper when you feel a shadow dance over your bare thigh and you lean forward. "And now I am?"
His low chuckle reverberates through you, his lips brushing yours and tingling them with the vibrations of his laugh. Azriel pecks you shortly and then says against your lips, "Now you are."
You change your sitting position, stretching your legs. ”And you are going to convince me now that it is something enjoyable?"
The shadowsinger’s scarred hand smoothes up your foot, higher onto your leg and back down again. He lifts his gaze to yours and smirks. "I going to prove to you that sex is one of the most beautiful things in the world," he drawls, his index finger circling your ankle. "Only if you want that, of course."
Wet heat fills your body when you draw in a deep breath and bow your head. "I want that."
You really want to. You want it to be good. You want for yourself to enjoy it. You have faith— Azriel is a phenomenal male, he would do it right, would make you feel right. This is going to be good, Azriel is different to the males before him, he has already proven that many times.
His fingers curl around your ankle and he lifts your leg, carefully sliding closer to you and placing your leg over his lap, your other one behind his back. Azriel regards you, silently assessing you.
"So you’ve never come then?"
"Obviously," you whisper and avert your gaze when heat flushes your cheeks. Azriel’s fingers continue their exploration, dancing over your knee up to your thigh. The spymaster draws idle circles to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs which already makes you want to squeeze them together. "Never made yourself come either?"
You could practically the warmth radiating from your cheeks. "I think…I have."
"Thinking about me?"
Biting down on your lower lip you nod.
"That’s a good girl."
His praise almost has you squirming. Gods, you haven’t known that you would like that. But something about the way he said it, the deep tenor of his voice reverberating through your body, did something to you.
His hand giving your thigh a gentle squeeze, Azriel leans into you, damp lips coasting over your ear. "I should have known you like that. Should have known my lovely lady likes to be praised for the things she does so well." His lips curl when he pecks the pointy end of your ear, chuckling softly.
“Well, “Azriel drawls, his scarred hands slowly sliding over your skin, the calluses rough against it. "Lean back against the head board," the shadowsinger orders, his voice commanding yet soft.
You do as told, nestling between the pillows and behaving like his good girl. But there is still this teeny-tiny kernel of nervousness in you — what if not even Azriel can make you reach your height? What if it truly is something about your body and he just tries to be nice?
The shadowsinger must have noticed your unease, his smile faltering, happiness slowly fading.
Azriel swipes his thumb over your cheek. "I really want you to know that," Azriel says, his eyes piercing into yours, "you not finding pleasure has nothing to do with you. It is generally more difficult for females to reach their height, but if the male does everything right and takes proper care of their lover it most definitely should work. It has nothing to do with you, you can trust me on that."
Relief truly starts blossoms in your chest at that, the corners of your mouth tipping upwards. You slowly dip your chin and smile.
"I trust you on that."
A low but content growl leaves Azriel at that and he hooks his scarred hands under your knee pits, bracing your feet on the bed and easing your thighs apart. Your nightgown pools at your hips, Azriel’s gaze dropping to your centre. He leans closer and pecks your bent knee before his gaze lifts to yours. "Now," he drawls, "let me worship you. Let me show you how beautiful intimacy can be."
The shadowsinger’s damp lips brush down the inside of your thigh, his silken strands toppling over his forehead and tingling your skin. A strangled sound leaves you when a throbbing feeling starts in your core and you desperately want to squeeze your thighs together. Azriel’s grip is tight, holding your legs spread open. He tips his head back, a brow raising when your gazes met. "Uh-oh."
His tongue poking out he gives your inner thigh a soft lick, descending, savouring your sweet skin. Damp heat pools in your core, soft, quick pants leaving you when your lids start to feel heavy. Your knuckles turn white from how tightly you hold onto the pillows next to you, watching Azriel dip his head between your thighs. Azriel’s nose brushes against your still in undergarments covered core, adding just a light pressure that has you squirming.
The spymaster’s voice is a soft growl, the deep tenor rumbling through you when he says, "Lift your hips, beautiful." Azriel steadies you, helping you, and curls his fingers around the elastic, slowly peeling the undergarment off.
His desire stretches out, making it impossible for you to breathe when his heated gaze lands on the spot between your thighs. A low groan leaves Azriel, the sound so raw and primal it has you turning even more molten, your legs shaking slightly.
He leans into you and kisses your sex. You shudder, never having felt…anything like that.
The shadowsinger inhales deeply, the scent of your arousal beguiling. The strong tendons of his throat stand out when he clenches his jaw, his pupils dilating even more.
Azriel’s throat works on a swallow, his tongue feeling so thick all of a sudden when he says, "Ever been tasted before?"
The heated honey of his eyes meets yours, his need and desire laced into his features. You give your head a tiny shake, holding his gaze. His want, his need, his desire, it does something to you. To your heart. To your core. 
"Good," Azriel purrs and dips his head. He kisses your lower belly, tongue circling your navel, hands skimming over your thighs, before finally lifting them over his shoulders. "Perfect," he breaths, his mouth moving lower. Shadows softly travel up your body when Azriel parts you with his thumbs. It is the first stroke of his tongue, the first broad stroke through your silken folds up to the apex of your thighs, that has you squirming. Your back arches, your hips lift, pressing against his face when a lewd gasp leaves you. 
It is the firm grip of his scarred hands that places you back on the bed, that holds you tightly, that limits your movements. Azriel chuckles lowly, sending vibrations and hot air right into your core. You squirm against him and the shadowsinger tips his head back only an inch. “Sshh,” he cooes, grinning, his lips glistening. “Relax and let me worship you probably. Let me devour you, beautiful.” You get no chance to answer, his head dips again, his tongue poking out and he flicks it against your clit. And then he feasts, his tongue driving deep into. He licks and suckles, holding you firmly, the sounds that leave his mouth feeling like a sin in your ears. Azriel is like a starved male, some primal need fully unleashed, his restraints gone. You wreathe underneath him, something in your lower body squeezing, your walls clenching. It feels so good, it feels…nearly overwhelming. Your eyes roll back and then your orgasm comes crashing in on you. Wave after of hot pleasure overflows you, washes you under. You come with a scream that is a mix of curses and his name. Azriel.
He lets you ride out your height, softly guiding you through it, his tongue and lips still sloppily licking and kissing your sex. Proud at his work and your absolutely disheveled state, Azriel flashes you a full toothy grin when he lifts his head, his face wet with your arousal, with your release. 
Having made you come one time is obviously not enough for the spymaster. Just seconds later you are fully underneath his tall figure. He has only given you a short glimpse at his marvellous body before climbing onto the bed and caging you beneath him.
 Azriel flicks his tongue over the hardened peak of your breast, marvelling at how you shudder underneath him. His lips close around your nipple, licking, suckling. 
“More?” Azriel breathes against your breast. Your hips give a little jerk, moving against Azriel who growls in approval, reveling into the feel of your skin against his. You sigh and dip your chin. 
“Words, sweetheart. Use your words.” 
The shadowsinger takes your nipple back into his mouth, suckling and tugging lightly. It has you squirming and making your unable to form a coherent sentence. 
“Yes, more. Please, don’t stop,” you almost whine, burying your hands in his silken strands. 
“Good girl,” Azriel drawls, pushing himself up on his hands and looking down at you. With something like a predatory gaze he watches you, marveling at the sight of your ruffled hair, the flushed cheeks, the need and desire in your eyes. All he can think is that you are stunning and fully his. 
“Let me make you feel good.” The shadowsinger pushes your thighs apart, settling between them. “I need you to be my good girl again. You want that, don’t you?”
“Yes, yes,” you breathe. His hand reaches down between your bodies and he adjusts himself between your thighs. He lets the tip of his hard cock slide into you. It has you both gasping. Both of you look down at where you are connected. Azriel’s lips part in a silent hiss. “Fucking hell.” He carefully slides further into you, letting you adjust, but at the same time making you feel every glorious inch of his proud length. He leans in, softly brushing his lips against yours. “Tell me if I hurt you. Tell me when you want me to stop.”
Your hands find its place in the hair at the back of his neck the moment your lips close over his. “I will,” you whisper, “but it is perfect.”
Azriel’s lips curl against yours when he moves in to the hilt, stilling inside of you. You angle your hips, gasping at the sudden spark of pleasure when his tip touches one special spot inside of you. “Move, please,” you breathe and Azriel captures your lips, slowly pulling out of you.
He kisses you softly, one hand moving over your lower belly, gently adding pressure. You pull your legs up, curling them around his waist and moan at the feeling of it. Gods, this is perfect. This whole situation is pure satisfaction. And gods, you can enjoy it. It feels good. It is good. 
The shadowsinger has you pinned beneath him, his tall body, covered in a thin film of sweat, hovering above you, him moving inside of you, filling you so perfectly.
He lets go of his restraints, his thrusts turning deeper, harder. He pounds into you, always making sure you feel good and that you enjoy what he is doing. 
“Tell me how good you feel,” Azriel whispers when his lips close over your ear lob and he gives you a tiny bite. Azriel knows he is good at what he is doing. And this confidence, gods, it turns you on. You love it when he is like that, cocky and confident. “So good,” you breathe through gritted teeth, your head thrown back, your eyes squeezed closed, his hips slapping against yours. The sounds are wet, your high-pitched moans and pants the only things that are louder. 
Azriel regards you, your figure, how beautiful you look underneath him, with him inside you. And he feels you getting closer, you clench around him and that feeling, gods! It brings himself closer and closer to edge as well. 
The spymaster decreases his pace, slowly, steadily moving in and out of you. His thrusts are long and coordinated now. A lewd sob parts your lips, your eyes only opening for a split second. Calluses scrape over your soft skin when Azriel’s hand slides up your body, cradling your face. He lowers his forehead to yours, exhaling warm air that feels like a summer breeze against your skin.
"You" -thrust- "are" -thrust- "so perfect."
Your back arches, pressing against the solid body of your lover, your mouths meeting in a sloppy brush of tongues, and lips. Azriel’s stomach flexes, cock twitching and balls tightening. He knows he his close, wants you to come with him. 
Azriel nips at your jaw, his thumb circling your clit, rubbing, adding extra pleasure that brings you closer to edge. You clench around him, rocking against him when a lewd cry breaks through the noises of your panting and moaning.
"Gods," you pant. "I am close, Azriel."
He doesn’t want to make you beg, does not want to torture you, edge you. He wants you to come, to fully enjoy this moment.
"Let go, angel," Azriel says and angels his hips differently to hit that damnable spot inside of you with each thrust.
Your pants come out quicker, your moans turning a pitch higher. You claw at his shoulders, flecks of white and black sparking in your vision when your eyes roll back. 
 You come simultaneously, a loud sob leaving you when a tidal wave of satisfaction washes over you. The shadowsinger trembles above you, his warm release spurting against your walls, his forehead dropping to yours. Your hips rock against each other with sloppy thrusts, riding out your heights together. 
After easing out of you, Azriel collects a wet cloth for you to clean up. He kisses your forehead, his clothed hand carefully sliding between your thighs and over your lower belly. You are still in a blissful steady, knees feeling wobbly, legs numb. Soft pants leave you while your eyes follow your lover until he disappears into the bathroom. You fold a hand over your forehead, grinning to yourself and exhaling loudly. Gods! Love making was good, was enjoyable, was something you wanted more of. And you were were also a tiny bit relieved—there was nothing wrong about you. It was not your fault that you did not enjoy the times before. 
Getting back into bed, Azriel brings you close to his body, wings stretched behind his broad shoulders. You rest your head on his chest, hand placed right above his heart. 
Azriel brings your leg over his hips, holding your thigh tightly. “Could I convince you that sex is not so bad?”
You wiggle your head, mischief glinting in your eyes when you met his gaze. “I believe I definitely need some more convincing.” Azriel’s whole-hearted laugh is like balm to your soul. He cradles you to his body, kissing the top of your head, smiling. “I love you and don’t worry,” Azriel mumbles into your hair, giving your rear a soft smack. “You will get a lot more.”
Feedback and critics are always welcome, as I still try to improve my writing. Please let me know what you think 💙
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tag list (crossed-out I couldn't tag):
@juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbitxh @cityofidek @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22 @valeriedarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian @whorefortim
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sashi-ya · 11 months
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𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 28: FLESHLIGHT adult! Ichigo x F! Reader x adult! Uryu
requested by: anon ➡ would you write a fic for day 28 with Uryu and Ichigo and a afab! reader? thanks! wc: mdni. ichigo and uryu are adults. threesome. using reader as "a fleshlight". DP. some homoerotic action, but very subtle (you can think what you want), oral, creampie implied. wc: 1,7k masterlist.
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Drunk, but not with alcohol. Lovers, haters… enemies, brothers.
The gathering had concluded. Their friends have taken their leaves. And the last one to abandon Ichigo’s house, was, of course, Uryu.
The tangerine haired young man plays on his bed, with some particular gaming console. He bounces his right foot, as he do… unaware of the blue haze that’s about to struck him.
“Kurosaki!” he screams, snatching his Switch from his hands. Ishida, a young soon to become doctor, forces Ichigo to stand up all of a sudden from his bed.
“What the fuck? Give it back, it’s not mine!” Ichigo protests, trying to reach for the console.
Uryu puts it down the desk as well as his glasses, and immediately after pounces on his friend.
“I told you once and a thousand times to stop flirting with (Name). I fucking hate you” Uryu grunts, trying to hit his friend but getting his fists stopped by Ichigo’s quick reaction.
As the ginger boy holds the onyx haired one’s wrists, he tries to understand what was exactly happening.
Uryu seems to have tears on his eyes. After all that happened, after the emotional spiral that they both had to face when younger, this felt to the Quincy like the worst of treacheries.
“Stop. STOP ISHIDA. I haven’t been flirting with her! I am not into (Name), why are you- STOP!” Ichigo tries to inject some reason into Uryu’s mind -even if he lies-. But the Quincy looks now more like a rabid cat than a man.
“I am tired of your shit… I am- why? Why would you… I saw you hugging her, I saw her sitting on your lap tonight…” Uryu mumbles, finally falling over his friend chest. He has ran out of strength, and the depression wins against confrontation.
Ichigo sighs. He, for sure, didn’t realize how bad his actions could hurt his friend. He proceeds to place his hand on Uryu’s not so wide back and lets him calm down with the safe embrace of someone he used to hate but loves as a brother.
“It wasn’t at all my intention. I’m sorry” Ichigo whispers.
Uryu clenching to his friend’s white shirt, stays carving his nose into Ichigo’s chest.
“I know…” he murmurs, almost like a little kid.
“Ichigo I think I forgot my – oh-“ you stop yourself right by the entrance of the substitute Shinigami’s door.
Truth is, you weren’t expecting to interrupt such an intimate moment. But it certainly startled you… while it was expected for them to love each other like brothers, sharing a bed in such conditions caught you by surprise.
Immediately after, they both separate and start stuttering to explain you something. You, on your side, don’t really need much explanation… though it was a little disappointing in a way that they were together; after all, you were actually struggling because you seem to like both.
“It’s ok guys! I am not telling anyone unless you say so! I am happy for you two. I think I forgot my Nintendo switch in here, but I will text you tomorrow!” you quickly say, trying to go away as soon as possible… as much as you liked both, and the scenario represented a pleasant homoerotic imagery, you weren’t invited to their “after party”
Ichigo pushes Ishida to the side, and fast enough stops you from walking. His strong hand around your wrist, makes you internally shiver.
“Listen, you are getting it all wrong! We weren’t doing that. We were just fighting!” he tries to explain, a little too desperate for you to believe in him.
You look at him, up and down. Ichigo looks visibly troubled, his breathing accelerated, and his hand clenching to you intensifies.
Soon, he is not the only one trying to stop you from leaving… and maybe, also trying to move Ichigo away.
“(Name)! I am not into men! Much less Kurosaki… I… In fact, I…”  Uryu stutters and closes his beautiful deep blue eyes for some seconds before continuing. “In fact, I am into you. I want you. We were having a discussion because of you!”
Ichigo and you widen your eyes; despite his friend knowing, it was still a big deal for Ishida to finally confess in such way.
You take some time to even react, however your eyes fix into his with shining stars.
“Uryu I… I…” you try to think for the right words; you like him, but you like Ichigo as well… and he hasn’t let you go, either.
All of a sudden, the sweet voice of Ichigo breaks the silence. While being pulled to your left by Ishida, you are being pulled by him to the right.
“(Name), I like you too!” he confesses. Leaving you all doubly perplexed. “Chose one of us, the other will back up”
Ishida, who instantly realizes he wasn’t wrong, decides to focus on you before attacking Ichigo for lying to him. While Ichigo, looks away with a slight blush on his cheeks you haven’t seen before.
A wild idea comes to your mind… why choosing, if you can have both?
“I won’t chose” you speak. They both look at you defeated. “Share me” you purr. They both let your wrists go. “I want to be used by both of you” you finish.
And with no mediation, you are surrounded by two needy creatures; both driven by desire. Apparently lust can help the differences set in between two men in a blink of an eye.
You receive kisses on each side of your neck, their playful noses inhaling the scent of your skin and sometimes their fingers even meeting as they slide on your belly.
Slowly, but surely, your clothes end up on the floor and in between kissing, biting, and moaning you fall into Ichigo’s bed.
The Quincy(ies) and Shinigami gloat to see your legs falling a little spread, your arms behind to help your back remain a little erect and the bouncing of your breasts.
“I am going first” Ichigo grunts. “No fucking way, I am going first” Uryu growls. “Didn’t I tell you I wanted for you to share me while you use me?” you moan, spreading your legs wide open to flash them with the very tempting entrance to heaven.
Ichigo and Uryu look each other, and run to you with no hesitation. Both jumped in the bed, with Ishida in between your legs and Ichigo kneeling right next to your face.
While the dark haired one fingers your entrance and uses his tongue to trace circles around your clit, you choke with the dripping merciless sex of Ichigo.
“Use her like a fleshlight” Ichigo claims in between panting, as his dick reached the back of your throat, and you gag.
Ishida stops, leaving his lips posed on your femineity as he looks at Ichigo with eyes on fire. He is probably questioning Ichigo for those words, that indeed don’t sound like him at all.
You stop the oral delight, and with lips still shiny from Ichigo’s precum you moan; “Please… let me be your fleshlight, Ishida-kun ~”
Uryu closes his eyes and sighs loudly; his breathe cools the juices of your cunt and you squirm. He then proceeds to stand up and opens his shirt, while his pants fall to the ground and are sent flying to the other side of Ichigo’s room.
The Quincy looks at you, with his dick in his hand. You are so glad to finally discover what’s beneath that particular clothes of his. His delicate hand lifts his shirt just above his belly, exposing soft marked abs over pale skin.
He then, as he kneels back in between your legs, wipes the little drops of sweat on his forehead moving his black bangs to the side.
“A fleshlight you said? Like a piece of silicone? Is that what you wanna be for me, (Name)?” he asks, serious than ever, with trembling lips of desire and want.
“Ye-yes, like your beautiful little doll to fuck, Ishida-kun” you purr, and feel how Ichigo’s fingers bury, pinching your cheeks.
“God, (Name)… how can you be that much of a slut?” he asks, pumping his dick, with the veins of his hand protruding visibly.
You smirk at him, with puppy eyes and sticking your tongue out. You are ready to receive his load on it, as well as Ishida’s sex penetrating you really good.
And it’s actually even better than what you were expecting; Ishida’s hands slide down your waist to the small of your back to lift your hips up. You can feel his hardness entering you, stretching your walls, going deeper the more he bucks your hips up… because he knows exactly how to make you moan.
“Ah… fuck…” you swear, as cumming has became an imminent happening. “Are you cuming, mh? Are Ishida’s thrusts that good, baby?” Ichigo asks, on the verge of bathing you with his seed. “Bet both dicks inside of you will feel amazing, mh?”
You turn your eyes white, imagining to be double penetrated by them had to be the last push for you to jump into the abyss of climax.
You feel the warmth blessing of the Strawberry Shinigami on your mouth, overflowing the limits of your lips and running through your cheeks, neck, chest, breasts.
You taste the salty product, and even choke with it. Uryu’s rams are violent, so improper, so out of character of what he might look like he could do… they are literally merciless; he is using your cunt as a real fleshlight.
You tremble, every muscle in your body spasms, and orgasm hits you like never before. You grip to the sheets, but regardless you cuming, Uryu keeps fucking you.
“Ishida, lay back, let’s fuck her together” Ichigo suggests -orders-; Uryu obeys, fighting on the verge of climax won’t do for him.
As his back hit the bed, Ichigo manages to crawl behind you and lifts you up from your arms. You, still cumming, almost losing conscious from overstimulation are now on top of Uryu -whose hips haven’t stopped fucking you yet-
“Now, bend a little over him (Name)” Ichigo helps you, while your arms have reached his nape from behind.
A single hand is enough for him to guide his dick inside you, shamelessly grazing his friend’s.
“Kurosaki…” Uryu grunts, staying still just enough for his shinigami friend to fit inside.
“Ishida- not now” he grunts, moving you back to the previous position. Both, inside of you, now feels like exploding your overstimulated womb. A womb asking to be blessed by more than one race…
“Guys… please, don’t stop ~” “No worries, (Name)… you are just like our favourite toy”
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taglist: @miabiaria @carmenthedreamer @stygianoir @electronicwitchcollection @aizenwifey @deputy-videogamer @efrodd17 @mizugami @uzxotic @cyberdazetragedy @bookandyarndragon @fushiguroshotwife💖
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kyuuppi · 1 year
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HEAR ME OUT. Genshin Men as your ex, like what would they do during the healing process? Would they beg for you back, try to get you jealous, etc.
I LOVE UR WRITING AND FORMAT XX YOU'RE LITERALLY AMAZING.
Ft. Zhongli; Xiao; Tighnari; Scaramouche
⚠️tw: manipulation (Scaramouche); bad end/angst (Xiao; Zhongli)
Every cell in my body resisting the urge to make them yandere–
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⭐ Zhongli
To be frank, Zhongli is no stranger to the end of relationships.
Having lived through several millennia, Zhongli has watched many friends, enemies, and lovers come and go. 
The moment he met you, he already knew you would someday be the same–such is the nature of mortality.
No matter how much he loved you, you would one day become yet another bittersweet memory–the type that makes his chest ache in the latest hours of the night while the rest of the harbor is sleeping.
Zhongli knew your departure from his life was inevitable…
But he didn’t expect to have to say goodbye so soon–let alone voluntarily.
“I love you, Zhongli. I really do but… we’re just too different. A former archon and a human just weren’t meant to be together. I’m sorry.”
Words he had never dreamed of fall from your lips easily. You had rehearsed it for a while.
He is internally distraught - his chest aches in a way he is not quite familiar with and, for once, he does not know what to say. 
He politely lets you leave - says that he understands and expresses his desire to remain amicable if you will allow it but will keep his distance if that is what you prefer.
He will always be available to share some advice over a cup of tea or osmanthus wine if you should ever need it. The unwritten contract between the of you – the favor and support of a former archon – is unconditional. 
You may find yourself shocked at how easily he lets you go –whether or not you are pleased by it depends on the nature of your true feelings.
Zhongli’s warm smiles and calming words will always remain, albeit now polite rather than intimate.
Outsiders who were unfamiliar with the nature of your previous relationship will not even notice the difference.
It is only a select few - Xiao, a few other adepti, and perhaps the funeral director – who see how the once smoldering embers in Zhongli’s steady gaze have been smothered.
It is only in the darkest hours of night, alone in his study, that Zhongli allows himself to wonder if his divinity is a blessing or a curse.
“It is unfortunate that our journey together must come to an end so soon. I have very much enjoyed our time together and appreciated the honor of witnessing your glory so closely. I will not burden you with my presence but… if you should ever need my assistance or desire my companionship, it is always yours.”
⭐ Xiao
Never in a thousand years would Xiao have imagined he would have someone to call his own.
After centuries of abuse–both inflicted upon him and from him - Xiao had sworn to never put himself in a position that vulnerable again. He will never let someone get close enough to hurt him or be hurt.
Nevertheless, you appeared in his life and shattered every expectation he had ever set.
Through sheer persistence, you smashed your way through his every wall and stole his heart as your own.
You had created an inseverable bond between you two…
...but now you wanted to sever it.
“I don’t think we can be together anymore, Xiao. You have a duty to protect Liyue and that is your top priority. You are tethered to this place. But I want to explore new places… and new people. I’m sorry, Xiao.”
His first reaction is anger, the type that flashed white hot in his gut and burns through his veins.
He did not seek you out – you were the one who forced your way into his life.
No matter how often he rejected you, how much he tried to avoid you, you had repeatedly interjected your way into his routine, bringing him plates of almond tofu and sharing stories of you adventure he had never asked about.
You created the habit for him. You made him expect your presence every day. You gave him new experiences and made him feel things he never knew possible. You made him love you in ways he had never imagined himself capable of–
–only to rip it all away. 
He should have known he was not good enough - he was always just a weapon, a tool, wasn’t he? It is only natural that you would use him too–and that he would one day become useless.
He leaves without a word.
For you, it is almost as if you had imagined his whole existence.
He no longer waits for you atop Wangshu Inn. You no longer feel the sense of someone watching–protecting–you while you take commissions around Liyue. 
 The only indication you have that you had not dreamt the whole thing is the occasional story random citizens, claiming to have been saved from a lawachurl by a ghost with yellow eyes.
You think Xiao has forgotten your entire existence. He disappears from your life so easily.
But to Xiao, it is not easy at all. 
His every thought is plagued by you to the point he wonders if you placed a curse upon him.
While the memory of you once eased his karmic debt, now it only seems to fuel it.
The voices taunt him, remind him of how worthless he is, even to his own lover.
You’re only a weapon of destruction – of course no one would want to be with you. You could never make anyone happy. You can only bring pain.
He suffers alone, brushing off the concern of the other adepti and even Zhongli when his karmic debt seems to get worse, his breakdowns more frequent and more intense than ever before/
It is only when you call his name - whether because you miss him or because you are in danger, than he will allow himself to see you again.
But even as he stands before you, he will not make eye contact.
Not because he does not want to see you but because he does not trust himself to act reasonably if he does.
“Even if the… nature of our relationship has changed, our bond still remains… what I mean is, if you are ever in danger, you should still call my name. I will always protect you...”
⭐ Tighnari
Um… this dude mates for life, how could you do this to him???
Similar to Xiao, he initially just gets kind of angry.
He told you how serious this is for him, how much relationships mean to fennec foxes.
He had asked you over and over again if you were sure before making your relationship official and you had assured him that you were. You said forever.
You had known each other for years before - you knew his personality and his habits. You knew being a forest watcher was his top priority and how long he spent on patrols - nothing has changed so why are your feelings changing?
“I’m sorry, Tighnari, I just… I don’t think I can live like this forever. Working in the forest together was a fun way to pass time but I don’t want to do it anymore. I don’t want to be with you anymore.“
He tries to talk it through - he wants to be logical and compromise with you. He asks you to set boundaries and be specific about your needs so that he has the chance to try to meet them - he will do anything to make this work, you just need to tell him what you need.
But you insist there’s nothing he can do, and without a proper explanation, you leave him behind.
It is easy to fall back into old routines and habits. Even if his lover is gone, the forest never rests.
He goes back to his patrols and reports and lectures – everything is the same as before yet it all feels completely wrong.
The days he used to look forward to – eagerly learning more about the forest he loved and sharing his findings with other curious minds – now feel like little more than a waste of time.
His passion is gone, the once burning desires now doused and his mind is only plagued with memories of you.
Quiet moments late at night in his tent are the worst. 
His bed feels uncharacteristically cold and empty without you in it. The calm night is much too quiet when your voice is not there to hum a tune you heard at the market.
“You’re being incredibly selfish right now – our relationship may be just a way to pass time for you but for me – it's all or nothing. There was no one before you and there will be no one after you. We made a commitment to each other and we need to stick it out. So tell me exactly what the problem is so we can work on it and fix it. Together. We have a whole lifetime to figure this out so don’t just give up on us so easily.”
⭐ Scaramouche
You have to be insane to leave this man - and not just ‘cause he is hot.
If you made it far enough for Scaramouche to let you into his heart, you already know his past. You know what has happened to him and how he feels about people leaving.
There is absolutely no way this will go well for either of you.
Once his heart is broken his immediate response is vengeance and retaliation.
If you think you are leaving him behind – betraying him like everyone else in his life – you have got another think coming.
“I’m serious, scaramouche. I don’t want this anymore. We’re just not meant for each other.”
“Ha– you think you have a choice? I must not have made myself clear – you are mine and you are not going anywhere without me.”
lol oops I made it yandere
While much less openly accommodating as Tighnari, Scaramouche is still willing to listen to your complaints and try to find a solution.
Although he’s possessive and a bit blinded by his own feelings, Scaramouche truly does love you and will do anything he can to make you happy–but only if you are happy with him.
If you physically leave, he will follow you. If you try to find someone else, he is not above getting rid of them. 
Once you enter a relationship with Scaramouch, for as long as the two of you are alive, you will be with each other.
“Do you finally understand? Good. Taking care of those mortal men you wanted to hang around with was starting to become tedious."
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comfortless · 5 months
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omg your könig posts just heal me. how do you think he’d deal w/ someone who just gets sad a lot?
He’s just awful!
König has braved an eternal winter his whole life. He knows what depression feels like, knows how sadness and badness can creep in even during your happiest moments. Considers that he’s already met the demiurge and is punished with an everlasting purgatory.
And König also knows loneliness intimately. He never had an arm around him those nights he spent curled in his bed sobbing far away from where any eyes could see. His “comfort” came in the form of demands from both internally and externally; his father’s voice always rung out far above the rest. Be stronger. More of a man.
With you, a part of him breaks.
Because despite knowing these things down to the marrow, helping with them has never been a skill of his. He can kill a man in seconds, ram through a door with practiced posture in less than a minute, but helping you when you’re sad is entirely foreign to him.
It’s hell entirely, because you’re sad so often. He does what a good lover should: fetches you gifts and food, holds you tight, buries you in nothing but words he deems sweet enough (even if they’re a bit crude).
And often you don’t want any of it.
You shutdown when he hovers and badgers, always pleading with you to explain what’s wrong. You’re curling into yourself, facing away when he tries his best to pull you in. Sometimes it’s an aggressive sort of love — forcing you into his lap and holding your face while you cry your little heart out, dragging you out of the house to sit in the sun while you babble about your woes (or even lack of, really, he just wants something to go off of), and an abundance of unsolicited advice as to what may help your mental state (as though he himself has not ghosted every poor therapist he's ever had). The gifts only increase and your every need is taken care of as though you were physically ill.
He’s aware enough to know that he’s being a total nuisance, too. He expects you to lash out, tell him to stop his pestering and coddling. And König would even enjoy your anger, because it’s something other than being sad and withdrawn. All of this only stems from what he felt he may have needed when he was a pitiful, lonely boy.
So, he holds you close, pampers you like the finest treasure, speaks softer and chooses his words a little better. There are no threats of hours of unhinged sex now, but he’s still a pervert: offers to lick you to take your mind off of whatever is going on. It’s a good distraction, he’s certain, because a wank in the barracks usually does aid him when you’re apart and that sadness creeps its way in.
And more often than not, he’ll question if it’s he who caused all of this. He’s not a good man, never pretends to be. He’s brutish and socially stunted in ways only seen in feral people or beasts in myth. König won’t ask for reassurance directly, very rarely wants you to see him seeming so vulnerable and small, but it’s evident how this growing aching reflects your own. The confessions of love come tenfold, not just for you, but because he needs to hear you say them too.
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ofallthingsnasty · 7 months
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Omg Hi. I saw request were open. Could you do B J L for Ace? (Yandere Alphabet) Thank you!!!!
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Yandere Alphabet letters a, h and t for Ace
oh wow, he sure is popular!! i hope you don't mind me putting these two asks in one post, i thought it would be easier to read that way. as always, ace is... wet and soggy, so beware.
tw.yandere, emotional manipulation, minors dni
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Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?
Very messy. We’ve seen what he was willing to do for Whitebeard - what do you think he’d do for the person he loves more than life itself? Ace is a dangerous mix of being utterly traumatized and very young. He is desperate for your affection, devotion, happiness - and he is young enough to be swept up in that storm of emotion fully and wholly. Some yanderes are cool, calculated, almost laid back - he is nothing like that. I don’t think he’s the type to kill a rival, but he does have the potential to get incredibly violent with people who he thinks are slighting you - not to mention the ones who actually hurt you.
Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?
Yes and no - with Ace, it’s complicated. 
Sex is a hard limit for him - he isn’t going to force himself on you, ever. No matter how desperate for validation he gets, or how pent up. He’s already torn between feeling like the devil himself for keeping you by his side and being absolutely sickly-sweet in love and dependent on you - could you imagine how he’d feel if he pushed you too far, if he suddenly remembered the way your hands tried to push him away while he buried himself into you? He’d go from being blissfully delusional (because you enjoyed it, didn’t you? He just had to work you open, but you liked it too, desire him, too) to falling into the deepest, darkest pit. He’d never forgive himself for it, trust me. That uncertainty mixed with his insecurities makes him quite careful and reluctant when it comes to the more intimate parts of your ‘relationship’. If anything, you’d have to initiate any sexual contact - which will be both taken as proof that you love him and that you truly want it. Any power imbalances between him and you are conveniently ignored. On the other hand, cuddling, kissing, holding you - those are way less invasive and much more needed. You don’t want to be constantly held in between two too-hot arms? Well, there is nothing much you can do about it. He craves your touch and affection unlike anything else - and doesn’t care if you go stiff as a board beneath him or try to wiggle yourself out of his grip. 
Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?
Considering how insecure he is, yes, absolutely.  He’s constantly comparing himself to others, whether he knows them or not. Someone else wouldn’t be so wretched like him, someone else who isn’t a pirate could give you a quiet and settled life, someone else wouldn’t be so utterly unlovable like he is. It doesn’t matter if you’ve been taken by him or not, you’ll find him moping around, just sinking deeper and deeper into some mental rabbit hole quite often. And it’s your job to get him out of there - only you can soothe that sting, only you can put a band-aid on deeper, way more pressing issues that you’re not at all equipped to handle. It’s never enough, but you’ll learn to maneuver his moods with time. 
Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?
He’s a goddamn limpet. If that man could eat you whole, he would. But in general, he isn’t that different from the way he usually is (at least when he's ina good mood), he just lets you in a little more. He shows you every side of himself - from the carefree, cheerful Ace, to the insecure, hurt little boy he still is somewhere in his mind - but he’s always a little closer to you than to others, one arm slung around your waist, shoulder, hip. Like I said in the other alphabet for him - you’re his everything; so you get everything he has to offer. 
Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?
Ace is a little charmer, definitely. Not the type to simply club you and drag you into his humble abode, that’s for sure - but he also won’t try to chat you up. He goes the good old friend route - one, because he wants to get to know you better and two, because he feels like he can’t just up and woo you. He fears rejection, doesn’t even want to think about the possibility of you refusing his advances. Not only that, I also think Ace isn’t one for love at first sight. He might be intrigued, sure, but do you really think he allows himself to fall for any warm smile, any comforting face? With that many things going on in his head, with that inherent feeling of being unworthy of love especially - I can’t really see it. His affections for you start out innocently enough, only to be twisted into something way more unhealthy over time - and before you know it, the man you considered to be a good friend forces you to play-pretend, hangs onto every word that comes from your lips. Not only is it fucked up, it’s also going to give you whiplash - you know Ace as an easy-going, upbeat guy and suddenly he’s sniffling wetly into your neck, saying that he needs you.
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lotus222 · 1 year
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Okay.
I only meant to make one SJM post cause Ik how certain girls like to tussle
But since the gwynriels and elucians decided to mess w me EVEN THO I SAID TO LOOK AWAY IF YOU GET EASILY TRIGGERED…
There is only one thing to do:
Talk more about why Elriel is not based in delusion — unlike some ships (not naming names, if you take offense that’s your mind questioning things)
Again, I am giving my PERSONAL OPINION. I even said at the end of my last post that I am not the author and I will love & respect whatever SJM does, which some of y’all can’t echo. That’s sad. This is a fictional world.
DISCLAIMER: if you’re easily triggered by elriel/elucian/gwynriel…l o o k a w a y
DISCLAIMER#2: I am unapologetic cause this is my page :)
Also, stop hitting my line with the “I wasn’t going to respond to this but…” or “you’re so anti…” like 1, if you weren’t going to respond, then don’t. It’s not that serious where the world is BEGGING for your opinion. And 2, I’m not anti anything, I’m pro-logic, again if that offends you then that’s a convo for you and you not you and me.
Now onto the main event…
Azriel
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My mans is being dragged through the mud both in the books and online. We say we “love him” but are ignoring what he wants and babes, that’s Elain. If you don’t like her personally, that’s not how Az is feeling, that’s how YOURE feeling. Gwyn has one chapter (+1 sentence) of where I can even attempt to grasp at what Gwynriel’s quote as bible, but again, AZ AND ELAIN HAVE 3 BOOKS. Y’all are acting like Rhys in Az’s bonus chapter and if Rhys couldn’t make his stance acceptable, y’all definitely can’t.
Elain
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Again, I say, if you do not like the lady pictured above, stop reading ACOTAR cause she ain’t going anywhere. To be so for real, I didn’t mind Elain at first, meaning I didn’t care whether or not she was included in any story whatsoever. But as I read ACOWAR and ACOFAS, I started realizing that there’s something so lovely about having a character who is innately good and wants/practices peace in a world of animosity and ugliness. She brings beauty in all areas of her life and I think that there’s nothing bad about being “boring” cause that just means your life ain’t a dang mess (*cough* *cough* everybody else in this book)
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So here is where I debunk all the claims I have grown tired of ignoring:
• #1 - “He hadn’t gotten that far into his planning beyond the fantasies he’s pleasured himself to.”
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(Picture credit: unknown) Get a good look cause that’s what he’s doing at night when he thinks about ELAIN. (It’s canon, so cry to yourself)
So, y’all really think you got us here, huh? So, my man Azriel blatantly admits to thinking of Elain when he wants to be intimate and y’all STILL want your girl to be with this man?
Ugh
Anyway, so Azriel hadn’t planned a relationship with Elain…OKAY???? Did you expect this man to have a map laid out about how he’s going to steal Lucien’s mate??? Do y’all even know Azriel? Like, be so for real rn.
Idk about y’all but when I have a crush on someone, I’m not thinking about how to steal them from the rest of the world, I’m imagining kissing them or going on cute dates. Not how I’ll actually make it happen. And ik y’all do that too with your favorite celebrities so stop playing.
He has a crush. Can you let the man figure out if Elain even wants him to act on it before he plans a 12-step mission on making Lucien disappear forever?
Azriel doesn’t want to force his emotions on anyone (as seen with Mor) so of course he’s not going to act or plot without confirmation that the other person in the party wants that. I.E. why he hadnt tried anything with Mor in all the CENTURIES that he liked her.
So, yeah, consider that point invalid.
• #2 - Lucien is Elain’s mate
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(PC: @shauna_the_author) *sigh* This one cannot be dubunked, unfortunately, because it is true. You got me here.
BUT
Elain is more likely to marry Nuala and Cerridwen before she spends the rest of her life with Lucien.
And it has nothing to do with Lucien. It really, really doesn’t. Elain simply doesn’t like him. Y’all were in my comments like “oh he didn’t really sell out Elain and Nesta, he didn’t know”. OKAY. But Elain literally says in ACOWAR that she knows Lucien as two things: Feyre’s friend and the MAN WHO SOLD THEM OUT TO HYBERN
Who cares if it isn’t true, that’s what Elain thinks and with her in mind, you can’t say that this bond means anything more to her than Lucien having some ownership of her which she doesn’t like at all. She even tells Graysen that she doesn’t care Lucien is her mate (“I belong to no one, but my heart belongs to you.”)
Whereas with Azriel, my girl is practically skipping into his arms; talking with him about her dream garden, getting him not one but two solstice gifts, almost-kissing him, recoiling at Cassian’s dagger but actively using Azriel’s…
Idk about y’all but if someone who was fated to be with me was acting this way with another girl, I’d drop him like a hot potatoe. AND AS LUCIEN SHOULD. He deserves someone who wants him, not someone who, as even Lucien said in ACOWAR when he was questioning if Elain was “worth it”, is shackled to him.
I harbor no ill will toward this dreamy man, but it ain’t gonna happen so do Elain a favor and lose her number, k?
• #3 - Sarah wouldn’t do the 3 brothers with 3 sisters, it’s too cliche
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Write your own book then. Fan fiction is a thing. If the ONLY thing preventing you to see reason is the possibility of a cliche in a book about kingdoms and fairies and magic then your priorities are so out of shape I won’t even spend the time explaining it to you.
This is SARAH’s WORLD. If she wants to be cliche and have the three female protagonists end up with the three male protagonists then let her. Omg.
• #4 - That Gwynriel scene tho
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(NOTE THE PICTURE) Oh, you mean the bonus chapter that featured thoughts about Elain? Not that one? Oh, then maybe you mean the other bonus chapter that featured thoughts about Elain? No? You mean the scene with Gwyn…hmmm
OH! You mean the 2 page conversation about training and why he couldn’t sleep (cause of Elain) and the subsequent regift of Elain’s present to Gwyn. Yeah, I know about that but why are we talking about it? Cause that means Az likes Gwyn? Huh?
That’s how delulu y’all sound. And if I hear another “you’re the ribbon Az”, one more time I’ll scream. THE RIBBON WAS ABOUT TRAINING NOT GWYN WANTING TO SLEEP WITH THE MAN. We are talking about the same girl who hadn’t left a library in god knows how long because of a sexual trauma and y’all are forcing her onto another man??
Gwyn was focused on coming into herself and mastering the ways of the Valkyrie. Nesta meant Gwyn found another obstacle in Az that she would have to overcome to become a Valkyrie. The only man Gwyn was concerned about was Cassian and that’s cause he was getting it on with Nesta. Again, be so for real right now.
I refuse to acknowledge this point until the opposing ships acknowledge the 3 books (+ ACOFAS) of build up between Elain and Azriel.
• #5 - Elain doesn’t belong in the Night Court
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This is the last point I’ll mention cause I actually feel bad for dogging the Gwynriels like this, but it had to be done. (Elucians get a pass bc at least their ship is based in evidence)
Elain doesn’t belong in the Night Court, okay, yeah Cassian said that the colors drown her out, I’ll give you that.
But Elain doesn’t know where she belongs anymore, just like Azriel has said about himself. She’s still figuring herself out and what she wants, so it’s okay she looks odd at times or feels at times out of place. Azriel keeps his shadows out 24/7 for the same reason. He doesn’t let anyone past the front he puts on unless he knows it’s safe to. They’re both figuring out how to live their best lives in their current lives.
I’ve heard Dusk Court theories and others but I won’t even repeat those (even tho they’re so good and you should definitely look into them). They just need to find their place in this world (and Cassian was right, Elain DOES NOT BELONG in the Hewn City).
Just like how Nesta didn’t believe she belonged in the Inner Circle, I believe there’s a place for Elain and Azriel where they can be themselves. They just need to find it I.E. their book.
-
Okay, that’s enough slaying of my enemies for one post. Again, this is just my opinion/theories and at the end of the day I’ll be happy with whatever Mrs. Maas gives us as long as she gives us something.
Act correctly or else I’ll be back.
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cutiecorner · 6 months
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fanfic • agere • regressors Bruce Wayne and J'onn J'onzz, Caregiver Diana Prince • AO3
My baby J'onn fic is finally done! First time in a while I've finished a fic. I hope y'all enjoy!
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J’onn needed a break. With his new duties on the watchtower, he was in a constant state of stress. Was he dispatching people to the correct assignments? Were more needed? Should he be recruiting? Every moment not at the console was a second wasted where he could be helping. But after a few days of no sleep, there came an intervention. Bruce and Diana had managed to get him to a private room to talk.
“J’onn, please listen to what we’re saying. You need to go on leave.”
“I won’t hear it, Diana. I go where I am needed.”
“You’ve been running yourself into the ground. If you don’t find a way to cope with your stress you could be put out of commission,” Bruce’s voice was gentle but stern.
J’onn looked at the ground like a scolded child. He rubbed his temples in frustration, he knew Bruce and Diana weren’t going to let up. Of course the two most stubborn members of the league were tasked to bring him to his senses. Unstoppable force, meet immovable object.
“Earth is my home now, I need to protect it. I won’t let what happened to Mars happen again,” J’onn’s voice sounded strained, scared. He hung his head. Diana and Bruce sat on either side of J’onn, both instinctually touching him. Before J’onn could protest, emotion washed over him. Worry, resolve, love. He wasn’t intentionally reading their minds but the contact transferred underlying waves of emotion. He tried to avoid touching others for that reason - it was too much, too intimate, but with his friends… it wasn’t unwelcome. He let out a deep sigh. Feeling how worried his friends were broke his stubborn will. He knew it was time to relent. 
“Alright. I will take a few days off.”
Diana smiled her perfect smile. Bruce looked pleased in his own private way. However - J’onn could sense there was something unsaid. Diana’s hand reached behind his back and laid over Bruce’s, seemingly encouraging him.
“That’s wonderful, J’onn. Thank you. Now, Bruce has something he’d like to share with you.”
Bruce looked away, rubbing his neck. Bashful was not a common look for the dark knight. After a moment, he spoke.
“I… wanted to talk to you about a coping mechanism you might find helpful.”
Bruce looked at Diana for comfort, who squeezed his hand in return. This was difficult for him.
“You are aware of my … regression, yes?”
J’onn was. He had witnessed it one time, briefly. After a particularly tough mission Bruce was critically injured. He pleaded with J’onn to bring Alfred to the watchtower, and the two stayed together all night. The next day, Bruce explained why he needed his guardian’s help.
“Yes, I remember.”
Bruce cleared his throat. “Well, it was originally involuntary, but I have found that voluntarily regressing with people I trust has had a positive effect on my overall health.”
Diana chimed in, “Of course, it’s not for everyone, but we thought that the concept may be useful to you,” she took J’onn’s hand, “You take care of everyone in the league, it might be nice to have someone take care of you for a change.”
J'onn took a moment to think it over. He did quite enjoy spending time with his friends, and he didn't get the opportunity often. Maybe participating in this earthly activity would help him understand them more. 
"I… will try."
Diana smiled even wider, before wrapping Bruce and J'onn in a hug. 
"I promise, you're in excellent hands!"
The next day, J’onn, Diana, and Bruce planned to meet up at the watchtower. The watchtower had become J’onn’s home, and he was most comfortable starting their day there. He walked out of his quarters with a knot in his stomach. J’onn could take down powerful mutants without issue, but social settings were always difficult for him. He was anxious for what was to come, as he didn’t know what to expect. However, as the beam of light rose from the transporter, he felt his worries melt away. Diana and Bruce were in civilian clothing, Diana toting a large duffle bag. Bruce looked cautiously around, fiddling with a loose string on his jacket. J’onn greeted them with open arms.
“My friends, thank you for doing this.”
Diana wrapped him in a hug.
“Of course J’onn, anything you need.”
Diana looked back to Bruce, catching on to his nerves. She reached out and held his hand.
“We should get going,” she said.
The trio went to J’onn’s quarters, secluded from the noise and eyes of the other leaguers. Diana loved being in J’onn’s room, it felt so lived in. Given J’onn lives in the watchtower, his room had been renovated to be more like a studio apartment. An extra large bed in the corner (to accommodate his unmasked form), a kitchenette full of his favorite foods, a seating area, and of course, his cat Double Stuff. He greeted them at the door, purring and rubbing against their legs. Diana adored how J’onn’s eyes lit up as he picked up the huge orange cat.
“Sweet boy, you’ve noticed our guests,”
Bruce gave him a tentative pet, and his purring grew even louder.
“He loves you already,” J’onn smiled.
The three of them took a seat on the large, plush couch in front of the TV.
“I can tell you’re both nervous,” Diana said, “but of course, there’s no need to be. I’m here to take care of you, not to judge. You’re welcome to express yourselves in any way that feels healing to you.”
Her warm voice put both heroes at ease. J’onn looked over to Bruce, who still looked a little uncomfortable. He tugged at the collar of his coat, which was still buttoned. Why didn’t he take it off? Oh. J’onn put the pieces together.
“Bruce, do you need help with your coat?” he asked.
Bruce nodded shyly while J’onn scooched over to help him unbutton.
“I did some research into human developmental stages. I remembered that children of a certain age may not have developed fine motor skills.”
Diana nodded, impressed. “Very good, J’onn.”
J’onn felt warmth bloom in his chest. Very good. His hard work to fit in with human society often went unrecognized - it felt so good to be praised about it. Bruce sighed in relief as J’onn removed his coat.
“So,” Diana began with an excited lilt, “I brought a few of Bruce’s favorite activities. I’ve looked after him a few times before.”
Diana unzipped the duffel bag to unveil a treasure trove of colorful supplies - picture books, crayons, blankets, various toys. J’onn was unfamiliar with most of them. He had never spent an extended period of time with such a young child.
“Is it okay if I move your table J’onn? It’s nice to have an open space for this.”
At J’onn’s nod, Diana picked the table up with ease and set it to the side. Next, she rifled through the duffle bag, taking out a large blanket. After spreading it out in the empty space she scattered a few of the toys - a little toy telephone, a small plastic creature, some things with wheels - J’onn marveled at the unfamiliar objects. Bruce was more than enthused about them, though he tried to conceal his giddy smile. He slightly rocked in place, looking at Diana with bright eyes. 
“Go ahead, my love.”
He hopped off the couch and sat on the blanket, immediately going for the little plastic beasts. J’onn cocked his head to the side. Bruce looked up at him.
“J’onn?” He said, in a small voice.
“I am just confused. What is… that?”
Bruce’s face lit up.
“Brachiosaurus!” He smiled.
“A brachiosaurus? Is that an animal? I have never seen one.”
“Dinosaur!” Bruce giggled, holding up the toy.
Diana chimed in. “They are an extinct species, J’onn. They lived on earth thousands of years ago.”
A tinge of sadness tugged at J’onn’s heart. Extinct… The faces of his family and friends flitted across his mind. He stared off into the vast space outside his window. 
“J’onn… are you okay?”
J’onn snapped back to reality, and confronted the concerned faces of his friends. Diana put a hand on his, transmitting love, warmth, worry, understanding. She knew exactly what was wrong after what she said. J’onn took a deep breath and steadied himself. He held Diana’s hand, gently conjuring feelings of calm and comfort in her mind. Bruce was not in this loop - he toddled on his knees to J’onn, eyes brimming with tears.
“It is alright, Bruce, it is okay,” J’onn said, holding Bruce.
“I want to know more about these creatures. What do you know about them?”
A small smile returned to Bruce’s face, and he cozied himself into J’onn’s lap.
“This is a Broch-i-o-saurus. They lived in the Jurassic period, ‘n they were herbivores… they lived in North America, that’s where my house is…”
J’onn nodded along, charmed by Bruce’s soft, gentle voice. He stumbled over his words every so often, his brain going too fast for his mouth to keep up with. All the while, Bruce was moving the Brachiosaurus as if it was traveling down J’onn’s arm. He leaned over and grabbed a second dinosaur, this one standing on two legs with small arms.
“Tyran-o-saurus Rex! Rah!” 
Bruce held it up to J’onn as if the animal was biting him. J’onn let out an ‘aah!’ and fell to the ground. Bruce continued his dino torment, both creatures attacking J’onn. Diana laughed from the sidelines. 
“I’ll save you J’onn,” she smiled, and picked Bruce up by the waist.
Bruce giggled and kicked his legs as the amazon hoisted him into the air, then she gently placed him back on the blanket. J’onn scooched closer to Bruce, picking up and examining the last dinosaur. It had a long head, just like his natural form! 
“What is this one Bruce?”
Bruce perked up and looked up at J’onn,
“Parasaurolophus!”
J’onn giggled, “He looks like me!”
Bruce cocked his head. J’onn looked at Diana,
“Do you think my natural form might… frighten him?”
“Of course not, J’onn. He knows you would never harm him,”
After a moment of thought, J’onn let all his muscles relax. He felt his form start to shift, elongate, transform. When he opened his eyes, he had grown by a foot, his arms and legs stretched out. I hope you’re right, Diana, J’onn thought, expecting Bruce to be scared. Instead, he smiled and clapped his hands.
“Big!”
J’onn returned his smile, holding the parasaurolophus next to his head.
“Just like twins,” Diana laughed.
“J’onn, you know you can stay in your natural form. We want you to be comfortable.”
Bruce clapped in agreement.
“Thank you,” J’onn said.
J’onn and Bruce proceeded to play with their dinosaurs, sorting them, stacking them, crashing them together. J’onn felt his self consciousness melt away as he played. As the time flew by, Bruce showed J’onn how each toy worked. Before they knew it it had been hours.
“Would you like a snack, little ones?”
“Snack…” Bruce cooed.
J’onn tried to gather himself to speak, but he found it difficult. His thoughts were soft and scattered.
“Choco?” He compromised with one word. 
“Of course,” Diana said, petting his head.
Diana returned with cookies for J’onn and applesauce for Bruce, along with a cup and a bottle. She pulled Bruce onto her lap, resting his head on her chest. She secured a piece of fabric around his neck. J’onn wanted to ask what it was, but he found himself unable to speak. He whined. Then, a thought came to him. He touched Diana’s hand, transmitting an image of the fabric to her mind. She was thrown off for a moment, but quickly adapted.
“It’s called a bib, it keeps Bruce from getting messy.”
J’onn nodded with a smile, content. 
“Baba…” Bruce was pawing at the bottle.
“Thirsty, hm?” Diana popped the bottle into his mouth, and Bruce happily drank the milk. J’onn tipped the cup to his mouth, but spilled a little bit down his chin. Diana was quick to wipe his face.
“Maybe I should get you a bib,” Diana smiled.
J’onn thought about it and gave an affirmative nod. Diana placed Bruce in J’onn’s lap for a moment while she fetched a second bib. Soon, she returned and secured it around J’onn’s neck - then she picked up the cup and secured a lid to it.
“Sippy cup,” Diana tapped the cup.
“...sippy,” J’onn repeated.
“Good job!”
J’onn felt that telltale warmth in his chest. He bonked Diana with his head, transmitting happiness, love, appreciation. After a minute of thought, he transmitted a small explanation to both Bruce and Diana. A memory of him on his homeworld, touching his forehead to his loved ones. It was a common form of affection on mars. Bruce bobbed up and down excitedly and fell toward J’onn, bopping him with his forehead.
“Good… job!” J’onn parroted, with great effort.
Soon, all of the snacks were eaten. “All gone!” Diana said, holding up the plates.
“All..gone!” J’onn repeated.
Bruce was softly snoring in Diana’s lap.
“I think it’s about time for a nap,”
J’onn made a confused squeak.
“Na-ap?” He drew out the word.
“It’s a short sleep humans take sometimes. Would you like to join? You don’t really have to sleep, sometimes it’s just nice to be still.”
J’onn nodded, not fully parsing the instructions but willing to participate. He followed his friend’s lead, floating over to the bed and lying down in it. J’onn wasn’t really used to the bed yet, he usually floated while sleeping on Mars. As he lay nestled between Diana and Bruce, he decided - he liked the bed best with his friends in it.
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