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#if the answer is 'you like it because its Not Yours' unfortunately everything you ever make will be yours
silverskye13 · 8 months
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You somehow get cooler with every single art piece you do how do you make them look so amazing
You're very kind lind <3 I don't see much improvement personally, but that's fine. I still have fun. :D
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sexybabystevie · 2 years
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how you know things are bad - i deeply miss dean winchester
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vivid-dreamscapes · 3 months
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~♡~Caught~♡~ Bakugou X reader
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tw: Swearing, suggestive themes Themes: Humor mainly Summery: Getting caught in the middle of being hot and heavy ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well this was embarrassing. Just two seconds ago, you had been making hella love with your boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugou, at 2:56 AM. Things were going well, you were getting your brains fucked out, he was saying some not so SFW stuff to you, all that.
Then the ever so lovely Kirishima decided to burst in for gods knows what reason, and now you were stuck here, hiding under the covers of your boyfriend’s bed, naked, bound at the wrists with the black tank top he had been wearing, and gagged with the new ball gag he had been excited to try out.
Bakugou’s whole body tensed up in shock as the sound of the door banging open suddenly jolted him out of the state he was in, his eyes snapping to the door where Kirishima was standing.
He was so taken off guard by the sudden arrival that he could barely muster up a response to Kirishima.
“WHAT THE HELL SHITTY HAIR!?!!” The blonde yelled, trying desperately to prepare himself to act like nothing was out of the usual.
The fact that the two of you’s clothes were strewn on the floor didn’t help though. Hopefully Kirishima wouldn’t see them in the dark. And assume that Bakugou just slept shirtless.
Bakugou was practically holding his breath, hoping that Kirishima wouldn’t notice any of the clothes and just think nothing was odd about the room.
Unfortunately, Kirishima was not that thick.
“Hey man, are you alone in here?”
Your boyfriend let out an internal swear inside his mind as Kirishima asked that particular question, knowing that he could not say that he was alone in here without being obviously caught in a lie.
“Y-yeah, why?” Bakugou answered and then silently cursed himself at the slight shake in his voice.
Kirishima paused before looking up at him. “Nothing, I just-“
“Heyy, we bothering kcchan?”
Both you and your boyfriend went stiff. Oh no. For fucks sake. Denki Kaminari’s voice was heard as he poked his head into the room alongside Kirishima.
The spiky blonde heard the dumber blonde’s voice too, feeling his heart almost stop as he realized that not only was Kirishima there, but now Denki was too.
He wanted to strangle both of them for being so goddamn stubborn about coming to check on him at such an ungodly hour of the night.
“Yeah, why’s it so dark in here?” Denki pondered, looking around.
“Because I was trying to sleep, dipshit!”
The little electric boy raised an eyebrow before he recognized your ‘Yeah, I rolled my eyes at you, sue me’ shirt on the floor, plus your favorite bottoms.
He glanced over at Bakugou who was mentally swearing again, but still trying to act as innocent as possible.
“Hey Bakubro…?”
“What?”
You tended up and prayed your friend wouldn’t recognize the outfit as your own. But luck really wasn’t on your side today.
Denki glanced back at the scattered outfit in the floor again, trying to find any other excuse that wasn’t the one right in front of his eyes.
“Aren’t these Y/n’s clothes?”
Bakugou froze as Denki asked that question, feeling every cell in his body just scream at him to answer properly and not make it any more obvious. It didn’t help that they knew you two were dating either.
Your boyfriend’s mind was racing with a million things to say, but none of them were working. Everything he thought about saying failed before it even came out, his brain short circuiting as he tried to come up with an answer.
“Yeah…they are…” Kirishima said, speaking up for the first time with its that minute.
Denki looked up at the shirtless hothead, covering the rest of his indecent self but keeping it under the blankets. You had a nice view of his ass under there while you hid though. “Why are they on your floor?”
“Because…” Bakugou stopped a moment and cursed again before he finally said the dumbest thing he could think of. “…they were here earlier.”
Kirishima raised both his eyebrows at that, both him and Denki now looking at him with the same look of disbelief.
“Really?” Denki asked, clearly not buying the excuse, although he was still giving him the chance to dig himself out of the hole.
“…yeah.” Bakugou said, silently cursing himself again and praying they would just take the lie.
Unfortunately, Kirishima was far from stupid.
“Then why did they take their clothes off? And just leave them?” The shark boy asked, arms crossed.
Bakugou swore under his breath for the umpteenth time at that question, knowing there was no way to answer this that wouldn’t be extremely suspicious now. “…they took a shower…”
He said, the lie sounding just as terrible out loud as it did in his head. There was a moment of silence as Kirishima raised his eyebrow again. “Why would they come over in the middle of the day to take a shower and then ditch their clothes?”
Your boyfriend tensed up as he realized more and more that there was no hope in trying to lie about this situation.
“…Because.” He ever so genius-ly said.
Denki and Kirishima raised their eyebrows again, the answer sounding even more suspicious than before. They knew he was lying at this point, but it was so entertaining to watch him flounder around trying to cover up the truth.
After a moment, Denki broke the silence. “…and why are you shirtless?”
Bakugou wanted to strangle both of those dumbasses in the doorframe, silently cursing the fact that they had to pick this particular moment to come up here to bother him. “…Because I was hot.” He lied, knowing it was possibly the worst lie given these circumstances.
“It’s 66 degrees.”
“YOU TRY HAVING A QUIRK THAT GIVES YOU UNNATURALLY HOT BODY TEMPERATURES SHITTY HAIR!!”
Bakugou shouted again when Kirishima pointed out that it was, in fact, not hot enough to be warranting him to be shirtless. He was losing hope in trying to cover this up. He just couldn’t keep up the facade much longer.
“Okay, so you’re telling us that she came over, took a shower, left her clothes, and you’re in here shirtless, even though it’s not that hot out. You’re sure that’s right?” Denki asked with a raised eyebrow.
“….Yes.”
Bakugo’s eyes darted between Denki and Kirishima, a small voice in the back of his head begging them to just believe him so this would all be over, but a bigger part of him just knew they weren’t buying it one bit. They had him caught and they knew it.
After a moment, Denki spoke up. “Okay, so…prove it.”
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN PROVE IT?!”
Denki shrugged and gave a sly smirk.
“I don’t know, open the covers.”
“Hell no!!”
Kirshima decided to wedge in real quick before what got intense. “If you really-“
The red head was cut off as the familiar voice of your pink best friend was heard from the door over, saving you from this situation.
“Ejirou, are you coming back yet? I just found another toy we can use! This one vibrates~”
You all froze at Mina’s voice, coming from Kirishima’s dorm.
Knowing her, she had probably known you were going to be caught naked if this continued—by eavesdropping—and was helping you slightly.
But Oh how the tables have turned.
All three boys looked at the door as they heard Mina’s voice coming from it, their eyes wide as they realized that she was also up and possibly doing some frisky stuff in Kirishima’s room.
Neither one of them had expected her to say something so sus at that moment, and all three boys froze, their minds racing to try and figure out how to respond to this new development.
It ended up coming down to Denki and Bakugo turning to look at Kirishima with raised eyebrows.
Kirishima’s face was beet red as he turned to look at them both, his voice slightly shaky as he spoke. “I-It’s not what it looks-“
“Oh shut it shitty hair, and stop acting like you weren’t just trying to catch me when your doing the same thing.”
Denki nodded, arms crossed. “Yeah…hypocrite much?”
“Wait, you admit it!” Kirishima pointed to Bakugou as you giggled through the ball gag under the sheets. Your boyfriend gave them one warning look, a few sparks, and they were gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sorry there wasn’t much reader interaction! This one was just kinda suppose for be silly and make yall laugh. And like usual, it ain’t proofread
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eddiernunson · 10 months
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The Splash of Rain on the Roof | Eddie Munson x f!Reader | 18+
Thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing, always there for me, bestie.
Also to @bebe07011 for reading everything before I post and giving me feed back. Love ya.
Summary: you're best friends with Eddie Munson after moving to Hawkins, the new girl who ditches the cheerleaders for the Freaks. A year later, you've fallen head over heels for him, and you're convinced there's no way he has any interest in you. It finally seems confirmed when you find out (more or less) that he's into a fucking cheerleader. Your heart breaks.
Warnings: (idiots) best friends to lovers, dork!reader, virgin!eddie and virgin!reader (its cute, ok), kinda slow, no protection, creampie, praise/degradation, minor miscommunication trope, sleepy 5am writing, first I love yous
I have another one shot planned, it's about 3/4 done.
Word count: 11k
-
As any first day at Hawkins High in the middle of the semester goes, you had a fairly decent one. A cheerleader spotted you in her class and dragged you over to her table, a parade of jocks and cheerleaders surrounding it. You wondered if their insistence was genuine, and you let yourself believe it. Until their true colours were shown through a nasty gossip session.
For the most part, they all had kind things to say about one another. They encouraged each other and asked how your day was so far. Did it count as false advertising if fake friends show their real colours? If anything, you were grateful they were so quick about it. You barely had a chance to memorize their names when one of them broke out in an overdramatic bellow in disgust. Your interest piqued, nearly drowning in their dull conversations, no matter how polite.
You followed the curly haired boys’ line of sight across the cafeteria to a group of boys laughing louder than the rest of the school. They looked carefree and like they were enjoying themselves. You envied them. Your eyes switched back to your new supposed friends, afraid of what exactly was so worthy of their collective disgust.
Their immediate round of insults to the harmless group of boys left the worst taste in your mouth. After the three or four people had their say, you got up without another word.
“Wait! Where you going?” Called the girl who escorted you to the table.
“Anywhere but here.” You answered, having understood immediately what kind of group of people she associated herself with.
She had plenty more to say, but you didn’t hear another word. You were far too busy beelining for the gorgeous man who was at the head of said table. The moment you looked over to them, your vision tunneled. The complaints voiced by the table of Preps seemed to be an extension of their “freakiness”, or so they called it, which you deduced was just another word for “dork”.
Little did they know, you are also a dork.
So, the table you had just ditched watched in horror as you walked straight to the table and immediately sat down with them.
Turns out the gorgeous man was as kind as he was good-looking.
-
It’s been over a year since you started at Hawkins, over a year of friendship with Eddie Munson, said gorgeous man. What’s even worse, he’s better than you had expected him to be. As you settle into the Hellfire Club, adding your own adventurous characters, and contributing to inside jokes, you and Eddie end up closer than you had ever expected.
Unfortunate news is, he has you so far in the friend zone, you’re starting to wonder if even he knows you’re a girl. (With fantastic tits, which he never seems to even look at.)
You’ve spent plenty of nights in a pair of tiny shorts and an oversized top with no bra as you listen to music and smoke a joint with him, hoping over and over that he would just make a move because lord knows you weren’t gonna do it.
The pressure of his hand when it rests on your lower back, the way he curls your hair behind your ear, his breath down your neck when he hugs you, it all sets your skin on fire.
On one night you were terribly upset at your mom after having a fight with her, getting in your car to take the eight-minute drive to his house. You had arrived at his trailer uninvited plenty of times before, Eddie encouraged it once he realized the fights were a regular thing. Only this time, he wasn’t in the living-room watching a scary movie, or in his bedroom listening to records or making a new campaign.
He was in the shower.
At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He’s had plenty of showers while you were over. He’d be stupidly apologetic about it, but if you were to be honest with him, the smell of the body wash that lingered on him was too good to pass up. You grabbed a bag of chips and a soda from his fridge and a beer for him, figuring you’d meet him when he struts out in that low hanging towel. On your way to Eddie’s room, a noise like music hit your ears and the slick beer almost fell out of your hand.
“Uh, uh, oh shit…fuck—” You heard him, loud and clear, a noise you only imagined late at night in your own bedroom. You stood there frozen in the hallway, listening as he fucked his own fist. You listened as his breaths got faster, his whining higher pitched. But no sound could match the divine noise Eddie made as he finished. Your breath hitched then, drool pooling on your tongue as you pictured sticky white ropes all over the shower.
Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, your panties drenched just from listening to him. You wondered what would’ve happened if your hands were empty. When the shower turned off, your gut swooped, butterflies kicking in as you raced to look casual on his bed. You didn’t have much time to prepare, turning on some music and picking up one of his magazines. Shit, dirty magazine. You quickly adjusted to the next one over, featuring a Metal band on the cover.
As Eddie entered his room, you were laying on the bed looking casual as you could, hoping he didn’t pick up on your heavy breathing. If he did, he didn’t indicate it. As much as you tried, your breathing didn’t slow, your eyes zoned in on the droplets of water dripping down his bare chest, lingering on his treasure trail. He greeted you absentmindedly, picking up a pair of sweats.
That night, you could do nothing but stammer through your sentences, chalking it up to stress from the fight with your mom. He offered you to sleep over, a normal habit you’ve developed, but the itch to slip your fingers down your pants was too much. If you had to face your mom just to get it figured out, so be it.
A switch flipped in you that day, it went from being a schoolgirl crush into a want, no, a need for him.
God, you wish he’d just get a clue…or that’d you get the nerve to make a move.
Something better than this torture.
-
After the third pat on his hand, Eddie finally looked up, wondering why Josh can’t take the hint. “What, what?” He asked, already annoyed at his day as it was. Fucking history teacher…
“New girl.” Josh gestured towards the jock/cheerleader table.
Eddie blinked, questioning why the hell he should be interested in this. The insistence on not just Josh’s face, but the rest of the group convinced Eddie, switching his glance over to the table. You stuck out like a sore thumb, not exactly dressed in their prep uniform. From this single glance, he could tell you were uncomfortable. In any case, neither were most cheerleaders on their first days. Oh well, he figured you would assimilate soon enough. Shame, with how pretty you were.
Soon enough, Eddie’s mood lightened up, amused by the witty banter his friends were spitting back and forth. Something Gareth said ended up being ridiculously funny, a feat that he’s familiar with, and it breaks the entire group into loud laughter, something that obviously disrupts the cafeteria. Eddie didn’t care, and neither did any of the other members of Hellfire. If no one would give them any decency, why the hell would they owe anyone else any?
As always, the laughter invited even more scrutiny. Eddie knew the reaction of the table you sat at, firing off insults surrounding the word freak. If they could just get original content, that would be great, Eddie thought as he looked back down to his notebook of campaign notes. He was in the middle of deciding which book he might need to check out for reference when Josh tapped his hand again, far more aggressively.
“What?” He snapped, but caught wind of what was so urgent immediately.
There you were, walking as if you were strutting a runway to his table. He thought he must’ve had it confused for a second, but after assessing the reaction of your previous table, it couldn’t have been less wrong. Eddie leaned over to the table to his friends, teeth gritted. “Be normal.”
After about ten minutes of awkward conversation, as a last resort you had asked what Eddie was working on. “Oh, the campaign for DnD.”
“Wait, you play DnD?” You asked.
Eddie wasn’t sure if this question was negative or positive. “Yeah, we’re a Dungeons and Dragons club.” Gareth answered for him.
“Oh sweet!” The answer stunned all of them. “Can I join?”
“You play Dungeons and Dragons?” Josh asked incredulously.
“Yeah, my dad taught me.” You replied.
“Drama room, Friday night at 7. Don’t be late.” Eddie said, finally making eye contact with you.
He regretted it from the moment he did. The beauty he saw from afar was only intensified by a hundred. You looked at the table with intrigue, much more interest than you ever showed at the jocks table. Eddie couldn’t believe how wrong he was to assume you would just assimilate with them. You were too good for them.
Wait, you were too good for his club as well, what the hell were you doing there?
-
If Eddie had any current quarrels with the universe, it was that you just kept getting better and better as he got to know you. He was prepared for your level one basic dwarf when you showed up with a level 59 Warlock. You kicked his boss’s ass, carrying the weight of all your co-adventurers.
From there, Eddie swore he must’ve gotten hit in the head somehow, because life just isn’t good for him, never has been. But with you, life is worth tolerating. From the start, he had fallen for you, and he still would have even if you did only have a level one dwarf.
As luck would have it, you would never turn down an offer to hang out with him. The first time he offered, butterflies sat in his gut until he walked up to your locker and offered for you to watch a movie at his house with him. You accepted graciously, asking if he minded you’d watch horror. Internally, Eddie fell to his knees. Externally, he nodded, keeping his eyes on what he called the prettiest damn eyes he’s ever seen.
He felt lucky you accepted his displays of affection with him, leaning heavily into his hugs and letting his legs intertwine with yours. His hair would stand up, your skin setting his on fire.
Lately, though, he could swear something is out to get him. As you started getting more comfortable being at his house so often, you started wearing smaller clothing. First, it started off with a pair of sweats and a messy bun. That tore Eddie farther apart than it should have. It turned into braless shirts and tiny shorts, and Eddie stared at the curve of your ass, usually half hard as you laid on his bed.
The first night he ran to the bathroom to jerk off to the outline of your nipple, he felt like shit, yet he wanted nothing more to mouth at it, to mark it his.
Eddie is so sure you’re innocent of it all, unaware of his lust and feelings for you. It started as feelings, but the lust has started to take over to the point where Eddie has to jerk off before you get there. He knows you’re going to bend over too much as you “help” him with making meals. As of late, the tiny pair of shorts barely conceals the outline of your cunt, something that tugs what could only be described as a whimper out of him, has been becoming all too much.
Eddie realizes he’s gonna have to ask you out.
-
After yet another unsuccessful Saturday night over at Eddie’s house– well, successful in terms of getting you out of your house but unsuccessful in the sense that Eddie just doesn’t seem to see you as a fucking girl– you trade your books to prepare for another boring lecture, watching across the hall as Gareth and Eddie seem to be in humorous conversation, judging on the laughter alone.
Eddie is nodding, appearing to agree exuberantly with what Gareth is saying to him. Might as well kill some time before class starts. You walk over, backpack on one shoulder as the weight from all of your books bounces off the back of one of your thighs. Just as you’re about to interrupt their conversation, Eddie makes eye contact with you. As a reflex, you break into a smile at his dimples. However, Eddie says one last thing to Gareth before walking away from their conversation.
You try not to take it personal. There are several jokes in Hellfire you have learned a long time ago to not take personally. However, this felt personal. Eddie doesn’t usually take part in the jokes at your expense. The boys give you enough crap for him anyways, and he gives them crap, and you give Eddie crap. It’s a wonderful circle of crap, really.
As soon as you approach Gareth, now alone, he gives you a half smile, clearly trying to dissipate from the awkward situation. “Hey,” Gareth greets you, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning onto his locker to seem “casual.”
“What was that about?” You get straight to the point, nodding towards where Eddie had just walked away.
Gareth stutters through his words, adjusting his arms between crossed and placing his hand on his locker. Oh, Gareth, ever so graceful. “I-I-He-he-he just-uh—”
“Gareth!” You interrupt him, knowing he could continue his stammering for a while unless you stop it. “Just tell me!” You shove his shoulder, annoyed already. What reason could Eddie possibly have for taking off like that?
“We were just talking about the girl he likes, is all.” Gareth admits sheepishly, his eyes flicking everywhere but you.
“Oh,” you answer, feeling crestfallen. A girl? Eddie likes a girl? And hasn’t even had the audacity to tell you about it? Were you not his best friend? Maybe he’s your best friend, but you’re not his. You shake off that annoying voice of doubt in your head, knowing on some level it’s irrational. Then why didn’t he tell me anything? “Oh, he’s…never even mentioned a girl around me…”
Gareth knows exactly why you’re crestfallen, your crush on Eddie not the most exact unknown fact in your group of friends. “I don’t know, he doesn’t talk about it a whole lot…” Gareth trails off, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. It wasn’t exactly a lie; Eddie doesn’t talk about his crush on you. He barely mentions it. The only reason anyone in Hellfire knows anything…is because they have eyes.
“Oh. Alright.” You have to get out of this conversation before the tears that crept up behind your eyes make an appearance. “I’ll see you at lunch?” You don’t even wait for a response, already turned around towards a bathroom to get your shit together.
Gareth feels guilty as shit when he sees the way you shuffle off to the bathroom, your sniffles louder than you even realize. In fact, Eddie was just telling Gareth he was finally gaining the courage to ask you out. Unfortunately, your brain has already eliminated this idea altogether.
-
Eddie sits in his usual spot for the lunch period, a foot parked on the edge of the table as he leans back with his arms crossed, observing his friends arguing yet again. Doesn’t really matter what they’re arguing about, never really does. They could be arguing about which album of a certain artist is better, which class of character is better to play, or even which teacher sucks the most in the school.
They’re all pointless, and Eddie always has a final say in who wins the argument. Being the leader has its perks.
Even as he seems casual, he checks his watch occasionally because you’re still not there yet. He looks forward to your presence at the table, to the way you indulge in their idiotic fights, if only for a second. It never fails to amuse him. Usually, as of late, you’ve been picking a side just to piss off Mike, and he still hasn’t seemed to catch on yet.
Right now, Dustin and Mike are arguing over the stupidest thing yet, something not even worth mentioning. Lucas is trying to give his input that this isn’t worth fighting over, but they’re talking over him. Eddie wonders how long he’s going to let them hash it out for.
Gareth rolls his eyes as he watches Eddie’s face lights up as you finally make your way across the cafeteria to the table. You greet the entire table, letting your bag fall to the floor as you rest your chin on your hand.
Dustin immediately attempts to instigate you into the fight. “Hey, can you tell Mike that—”
“No offense, Dustin, but I really don’t care.” You interrupt him, sounding tired. The whole table but Eddie laughs at your answer.
This allows the table to segue into a different conversation, something that everyone can care about. Eddie takes the opportunity to lean in. “Are you not hungry?” He asks lowly, noting the lack of cafeteria tray you have today.
You can barely look him in those gorgeous brown eyes, your heart dropped to your gut the moment you heard he likes someone else. “Not really. Lost my appetite.”
His brows furrow, watching you avoid his eyes and sink into yourself. This was so unlike you. Usually, you’re much surer of yourself, an aura of confidence even he finds himself envious of at times. “Are you okay?” He asks again.
You shrug your shoulders, not committing to a yes or no answer. You finally lay your eyes on him, and he’s staring past you across the cafeteria, you follow his eyeline…directly to the cheerleader’s table. A realization hits you and somehow your heart drops even lower.
He likes a fucking cheerleader.
You should’ve known his type would be a girl who jumps up and down in a tiny skirt. Maybe you should’ve joined the cheer squad then. Then at least you would’ve had a damn chance.
Somehow, you don’t even have the appetite to sit next to him anymore. “Listen, I have to ask for help in my chemistry class, it’s kicking my ass. Um…”
Eddie is about to protest but you’ve already picked up your bag and started jogging out the large door of the cafeteria. In fact, you missed the rest of the school day to fucking wallow in this stupid heartache. Your mom doesn’t pay enough attention to the school's phone calls to begin with.
As you leave the cafeteria, Eddie gives a questioning look to his fellow Hellfire mates. Hell, if they know. Gareth knows, but they’ve made a collective agreement not to meddle, as much as it pained Dustin. Eddie was just gearing up the confidence to ask if you’d want to hang out that weekend, which is where he was planning on making his move for the first time. He didn't know what was upsetting you, but he figured it was something to do with your homelife, as it usually does.
However, he couldn’t have seen the next week coming.
As Eddie goes through the motions of barely making attendance and handing in assignments with maybe a paragraph of some bullshit he spewed, he usually has your pretty face to look forward to. In his second period, his leg bounces as he waits for you to sit next to him in your usual seat so he can have an opportunity to ask the damn question he’s been meaning to. He's in class on time for once, just to watch your pretty face as you walk to the back corner to sit with him. One benefit of repeating senior year is that he gets to have class with you now. If you could only see his face as it fell as you walked into the classroom and took the immediate seat right by the front door.
After an hour of over thinking, Eddie finally convinces himself you simply just weren’t in the mood for conversation. The way you avoid the Hellfire table when you walk into the cafeteria that day seems to prove that theory right. Until over the following week he sees you having conversations with other members of Hellfire. Alright, that hurts.
One day, he calls your name as you’re at your locker, and he catches your eye contact before you run towards the front door.
What the hell did he do wrong?
-
In your 7th or 8th day of narrowly avoiding Eddie, you end up having to walk home in a light drizzle. Usually you have your car, but your mom insisted on needing it for the day. On the occasion that she needed the car, usually you would grab a ride from Eddie. Right now, that just wasn’t an option.
You start to feel bad for the first time since your avoidance started. You saw how Eddie’s face fell every time you made eye contact and walked the other way. No matter how much you’ve wanted to talk to him, you just can't let your feelings go.
You just need distance. If you give yourself enough time, the idea of having to leave him so he can have date-night with another girl won’t send you into a mental spiral. If you give yourself enough time, you could stand the idea of listening to him gush about her. As of right now, there’s no possible way any of that sounds doable to you.
As you got up this morning, the weather was bright and sunny, warm on your skin. You wore a layered skirt and a tank top. Unfortunately, the rain was picking up slowly, and you’re sure it's going to be pouring by the time you get home, still another mile or two away.
You walk on the sidewalk, arms crossed over one another to prevent from shivering as much as you can, narrowly avoiding the splashing from tires as cars pass by. While the rain picks up, your ears barely pick up on a vehicle slowing down right by you.
“Get in!” You hear a voice, recognizing it off the bat.
You look up to face him, nice and dry in his van that he has pulled over right next to you. You can barely see him through the rain. You shake your head, continuing your walk home.
“Sweetheart, get in! You’re gonna get sick! It’s starting to thunder!” Eddie argues, driving slowly as you continue to walk.
“No, I’m fine!” You answer, your chattering teeth giving away your iron clad position.
“Oh, for fucks—” You think Eddie has given up, your eyes on the ground as you trudge forward, until you see his scuffed-up shoes in your direct eyeline. His firm hands land on the soft flesh of your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks. “Hey. What the fuck did I do?”
Your eyes look up to him in surprise. “Huh?”
“You’ve been avoiding me for the last week and a half!” He yells, mostly because the rain has picked up so goddamn much.
“I-I just need space.” You tell him, attempting to get out of his hold.
“Wait, what? Why?” Eddie asks. Your eyes blink rapidly as you peer up at him, his curly hair already soaked from the rain. “What do you mean, you need space?”
You gulp out of both tears and frustration. “I just need space, Eddie! I need some time… to get used to it.”
You might as well have been speaking in tongues. “Get used to what? What the hell are you talking about?”
The words bubble up in your thoughts and through your throat before you can stop them. “You made it extremely clear that you don’t see me as anything other than a friend, and now you have a crush on some girl!”
Eddie couldn’t register a single word you were saying. It made no sense to him. “What?”
“I have made a complete fool out of myself! I basically put myself on display just for you to look at some girl shaking her ass in a cheerleader uniform.” You chuckle, wiping some rain from your face as it drips cold down your cheeks. “Maybe I should’ve joined the squad, then I would’ve stood a chance.”
“Wait, wait.” Eddie is having trouble processing any of this. “Can you please go from the start, sweetheart?”
“Gareth told me you like someone.” You admit, your voice faltering. “After sending signals for God knows how long, I guess I finally realize I’ve been making a fool out of myself with you.” You sigh, giving him the saddest look he's ever seen from you. “I just need some time to get over you.”
The information finally all seems to add up for Eddie. “Wait, sweetheart, back up.” Eddie says a soft smile landing on his face as he understands. “You-you like me?”
“Uh, yeah?” You answer, the answer obvious.
“And you think I like some cheerleader?” Eddie asks, pulling you closer to him.
God, this is torture. “I mean, you do, don’t you?”
He laughs, loud and…joyful. “God, no.” He says, and you nearly melt at the half smirk now settled on his face.
It's your turn to be confused. “Huh?”
“The girl I like is you, you dumbass.”
Suddenly your heart is in your ears, and you can’t think passed that smile on his face. The glint in his eyes is new, the look in his eye driving you stupidly crazy. “Wait, Ed, don’t fuck with me here.”
The hands resting on your shoulders float up to the shine of your cheeks, framing your face. Rain is dripping off his bangs and he’s nearly struggling through it but doesn’t seem to care. Truth is, he does not. All he can see is the shine of your lips from the rain. “Baby, I’ve been wanting to kiss those lips since the moment I saw you.”
Your breath hitches, staring at those lips you’ve stared at so many times. “Then what's stopping you?”
Your lips meet in the middle, rain colliding with one side of your face as you tilt your head. He takes the lead right away, your skin on fire as you are barely able to believe that this is real, and that he’s really kissing you. Eddie nibbles on your bottom lip, you let out a small whimper in response. Your tongue eagerly reaches out to meet his, the collision feeling like velvet. Eddie’s hand spreads out on your face, his limber fingers something you’ve fantasized about several times.
You continue to make out in the rain, one of your hands finding their way in his soaked hair. One hand is placed on the small on your back, tugging your body right up against his. Another whimper escapes your mouth, Eddie opening his mouth and breathing heavily into yours in a knee-jerk reaction.
Eddie separates from you, placing his forehead against yours. “You wanna get in now?” A half chuckle passes his lips at the sheer stupidity of this major miscommunication.
“Please.”
Eddie opens the back door to his van, already a blanket and pillow on the floor thanks to his habits in his free time. As you climb in, you squeeze the water from your hair, suddenly realizing you’re actually quite cold. Eddie observes your shivering. “Cold, baby?”
“Freezing.” You admit, grabbing a blanket folded in the corner. He helps you get wrapped up, rubbing your arms quickly. “I don’t wanna stop kissing you, though.” Another admission comes out just as easily.
“You sure?” He asks, walking on his knees to meet you.
“Just kiss me.” You tell him grabbing him by the jacket.
He chuckles as he meets your lips, his face dipping down to meet yours again. You fall backwards to lie down, tugging on his jacket so he lands on you. He giggles as he lands on his forearm right next to your head, all teeth against your lips as he smiles into you. Your legs curl up around his torso, tugging him impossibly closer.
“You have no—” He sighs, kissing you in intervals. “…No idea how badly I’ve wanted to kiss these pretty lips of yours.”
Your heart flutters as you giggle into the kiss, the compliments he showers you in too much to believe. “Ed, I-I want you to touch me…” You sigh, the blanket slowly falling off your body.
“Uh, don’t know if you know this, but I…I’ve never…” Eddie stutters, sounding nervous.
You let out a small huff of laughter. “It…it’s okay, Eddie.” Your hands entangle into the wet curls on his head. “Neither have I.”
Eddie lets out an audible gulp from the simple implications. “I think we should get off the main road before we start getting too into it, baby.”
“Oh, ok.” You tell him, butterflies fluttering in your tummy.
He sits back up, a noticeable tent in his pants making you feel flustered. You thought you felt something against your thigh, but mentally, you couldn’t fathom that he was hard for you. He extends his hand out for you, you accept it gratefully as he helps you scoot back out of the back. The two of you scurry to your prospective seats, the rain now coming down so fast your hair is soaked from the mere seconds it took you to get there.
Eddie pushes his wet mop of a head of hair to the side as he laughs with you at the scenario you currently find yourselves in. As he starts the van, he gives you a cocky eyebrow raise, the heat from the air vents surprising you in a blast. His heavy foot placed on the gas pedal surprises you, your head swinging backwards at the force.
Without asking, you know exactly where Eddie is headed. The drive takes longer than average, your nerves racking sky high as his strong hand holds yours absentmindedly.
The rain continues its assault from the sky, a flash of lighting reflecting in the water as you pull up to the edge of Lovers’ Lake. As Eddie brakes, your head falls back onto the fabric covered headrest, eyes closing as you place his hand in yours in your lap. The heat of your arousal is radiating off you, your thumb absentmindedly smoothing over Eddie’s.
There’s nothing you’ve wanted more than to be sweaty with him on top of you, but now that it’s about to happen, the fact is nearly overwhelming. As you soak in the sound of the rain on the roof of the van, Eddie presses his hand where you have it on your upper thigh, putting pressure on it. An involuntary whimper escapes your throat, and as your lungs fill up with air Eddie leans in across the gap of the seats, a chuckle leaving those sweet lips as he nuzzles into your neck.
A sigh leaves your lips as you can feel his teeth start to nibble lightly, relaxing into it. He places his other arm over you, coming up to rub your torso as his tongue delicately laps along your jugular. “Ed…can we lie down?” You ask, your eyelids starting to feel heavy.
“You wanna climb, or you wanna get out?” On cue, a flash of lightning hits right on the lake. “Climb?”
“Climb.” You agree, giving him your sweetest smile.
“Ladies first?” Eddie asks, gesturing to the back.
You awkwardly place your knee on the middle console your hands having a rough landing on the blanket covered floor of the van as you start to crawl forward. Behind you, Eddie appreciates the view, how your pink, thin panties beautifully showcase the outline of your cunt, still soaked from the rain. Well the rain and your arousal, of course.
You turn around, one leg bent as you wait for Eddie to climb over. His hand moves to turn on the overhead light, then he slowly crawls his way to you, the look in his darkened eyes sending a thrill up your spine. By the time his body lines up with yours, you’re giggling out of nervousness, wondering where this energy came from.
He hovers over you, the wide smile on his face as he switches between your eyes sending your nerves up into the atmosphere. Your legs open for him, accepting him as he lays on top of you. His hair starts to fall over your face as he leans in, his mouth deliciously open as he kisses you some more.
“Ed.” You mumble, moving your hands to where they seem to favour, the collar of his leather jacket. “Take this off.”
He hums as he follows your order, sliding the jacket off his shoulders as he continues to kiss you. Well, his multi-tasking is a bit jagged, but you appreciate the effort, nonetheless. You admire his newly exposed arms sitting in his wet muscle shirt. He leans down to continue lapping at your neck again, adding more teeth to turn your neck purple, having stared at this part when you stretch out a kink or two from your neck.
You’re so turned on; you can feel it in your bones. “Eddie,” you whimper out, eyes closed as you give in to the way his tongue feels electric. “I need you to touch me, please.” You beg him, your pussy begging you for attention.
“Of course, baby,” Eddie gulps, and knowing him, you could hear his nerves.
“Hey,” you say, reaching out to hold his face. “I can help you, just reach out to touch me and I’ll tell you how to do it. I just need your fucking fingers on me, please.”
Eddie leans in, kissing gently along your jawline. “I know, maybe I just wanted to hear you beg.”
You roll your eyes, calling him out on his bluff. “Mmhmm. Just fucking touch me, Munson.”
Eddie’s hesitancy seemed to die right there, his unsteady fingers simply placed over the thin layer of your panties makes you gasp, just the light touch giving you some satisfaction. “You were saying?”
Eddie starts to lightly trace along the folds, noting how it dips right where your hole would be. Eddie can’t help but get harder as the heat from your pussy radiates. “Feels good…” you mutter, sighing lightly. “Just a little harder, please?”
“You want it harder, sweetheart?” He asks, you nod enthusiastically. “You sure?” You nod again, frustrated at his damn questions.
He puts pressure on his fingers, experimentally starting to circle them around. “Little higher, Ed.” You tell him as he just grazes your clit. He listens, moving his fingers a half of an inch higher and continuing. He moves his fingers just high enough, starting to circle perfectly on your clit. You moan out loud, letting out small gasps. “Right there, right there!”
“Oh my god.” Eddie mumbles to himself, watching your face crumple up as your legs fall more open. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you moan like this…fucking stunning.” Your moans grow louder, your thighs starting to tense. Eddie suddenly stops, and you whimper at the loss. You feel him start to move your panties aside. As soon as you realize what he’s doing, your head perks up, watching his face as he stares at your exposed pussy for the first time.
The heat in your pussy increases, tenfold, weeping just from his intense stare.
He doesn’t say anything for a minute, mouth half open and his eyes don’t even blink. “Eddie?” You ask, starting to feel self-conscious.
“Wow…” he mutters, eyes finally locking with yours. “I knew your pussy would be pretty, I didn’t know it would be this ravishing.”
You gulp, feeling more wanted than you knew you ever could.
His fingers trace gently along your folds, just feeling your pussy. As he hears a whimper from you, a note of your impatience, he suddenly turns his hand upside down starting to touch with more pressure. “Fuck, you’re so wet, baby.” He whispers. “All…all this for me?”
You’re wet for him more than he knows, but your mouth can’t even communicate it, your brain having gone dumb from his touch alone.
He licks his lips, starting to rub at your folds purposely. “Look at this pretty little cunt, oh my god…wonder…” he doesn’t finish his thought, but when his long digit makes its way in you, you can deduce what he was thinking. He slides it in and out slowly, the length of his finger reaching much farther than yours ever have.
Your breathing gains speed and depth, adding another finger and fucking you slow, yet perfect. “Eddie.” You moan, your slick dripping down your ass and onto the blanket. Eddie moves his fingers faster, looking at your face for your response. “F-faster!”
Eddie lets out a huff of laughter you don’t hear, too caught up in the pleasure. “Jus’ gonna…” He leans in, and his tongue flat against your clit yanks the first genuine moan out of you, the pleasure all encompassing.
“Just like that! Please, Eddie, so close, please!” You beg him, the orgasm sneaking on you as it hurtles toward you, just around the corner.
He switches up, still new to this whole thing, but he makes up for it by gripping onto the soft flesh of your thighs and starting to fuck his tongue into your weeping hole. His lips create a sort of suction around the length of your lips, and the heat that radiates into your thighs becomes too fucking much as your thighs close hard against his ears.
“Gonna…” it’s the only warning you can provide for him before your entire body tenses up, a primal moan leaving your lips. Eddie works you through your orgasm, holding your thighs held against his head and revelling in how you soak his lips. He’s pictured his nose against your pussy too many times to already be satisfied.
As you finally come down, Eddie is still fucking into you with his tongue, seemingly not giving up. You lift your head up, your thighs now loose as you peer at him. “Ed?” You ask, the sensitivity of your puffy lips causing your thighs to quiver a little bit. “Wh-what are you doing?”
His tongue leaves your cunt for only half a second. “’M not done yet.” It’s warbled, his hot breath right against you eliciting another whimper.
Your head falls hopelessly against the van floor, his thumb contacting your clit and tongue swirling against your walls, moaning into your pussy. As you’re still sensitive, the second orgasm starts brewing in your tummy quickly. “Eddie, it’s too much.” You say, attempting to squiggle your hips away from his relentless tongue. “Too-too much.”
“Mmm, ‘can do it.” He mumbles, doubling down on his pattern.
“Ed…Eddie!” You cum into his mouth, your torso involuntarily tensed as you raised, incoherent sounds leaving your lips as you wither beneath him.
As your thighs relax again, he licks a last few times, as if trying to collect all the slick covering your pussy. After one last time, he looks up to you, licking his lips as you recollect yourself. “Was that ok?” He asks, breathing heavily and sweating as if he just ran a marathon.
You give him a look of disbelief, eyes furrowing as you shake your head. “Was…was that okay?” You repeat back to him in astonishment. “Eddie that was…I-I it was… I don’t know who taught you to do that, but it wasn’t me, Jesus!”
He crawls up to you, smile on his face gloriously cocky. “Yeah?”
“Uh huh!” You confirm, your voice indicating that you’re stating the obvious.
“Been wanting to do that for a while,” he says, mouth just hovering over yours.
“What a coincidence, been wanting you to do that for a while.” You smirk, switching your glance between his hypnotising eyes and his glossy pink lips. He finally leans in for a kiss, tongue reaching out to meet yours in a dance of straight up pleasure. “Ed…” You whine, bunching up the wet muscle shirt he’s wearing in your fists.
“Hmm?” He asks, slowly kissing you.
“I wanna help you.” You sheepishly admit, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Please?”
“Help?” Eddie asks, feigning ignorance in the meaning of your request.
“I wanna suck your cock, please, Eddie.”
Eddie lets out a laugh in incredulity. “Holy shit, please.” It’s damn near a whine, music to your ears.
You giggle in response, finally the shoe on the other foot as you get to now hear those moans as a result of what you do to him, and not through his bathroom door. Experimentally, you reach down, feeling at the tent you’ve felt brush against your thigh as you made out with him. At the mere brush of your hand on the outline of his cock, he moans, and you bite your lip in anticipation.
One leg bends, using it to push and get him onto his back. You sit up, straddling him as you assess his astonished expression. As soon as you sit up, however, you notice the twitch of his cock right under your pussy. Your breath stutters at it, not realizing your bodies would line up this well. As if your brain knows what to do before even you do, your hips start rutting against him, alluring a moan in sync from the two of you.
“Oh my god,” Eddie whimpers, eyes rolling in the back of his head. If you could, you’d take a picture of him.
You giggle, attempting some ounce of self-discipline as you start to crawl down his body, already missing the twitch of his dick against your bare pussy. If just his dick against you feels this good, you wonder how great he would feel inside you, and you almost run out of patience.
No. You want this power: to be on your knees as he moans for you. Show some fucking discipline.
Your hands fumble as you undo the button on his jeans and Eddie lifts his hips as you move them down his legs. You want to tease him over his thin boxers, but the anticipation is too much, the need of the weight of what appears to be his thick cock on your tongue too great. You tug down his boxers, his cock popping out deliciously.
The look of pure lust you saw on Eddie is essentially copy and pasted onto you, your eyes darkening as you take in his length for the first time.
“Uh, baby?” He asks, watching as you’re stuck in some sort of trance.
“So pretty.” You mumble to the pink head, precum already pearling at the slit. Your tongue darts out, wanting a taste of the salt dressing it. You sigh in satisfaction, eyes closing as you wrap your hand around the base. Tentatively, you wrap your lips around the head, sucking gently.
“What a good mouth, oh my god.” He babbles, hands in his own hair in a haze.
If you could, you’d smile. Only knowing from a magazine with blowjob tips, you start to move your mouth up and down his length, barely able to take in half of it. Your mouth sucks harshly on him, moaning around him as slobber starts to gather at the base. As a way to get the spit off your hand, you rub it on to his cock almost in exact time as you continue sucking.
“Baby, baby, do that again.” He whines, his gasps audible. You follow his request immediately, moving your hand in tandem with your mouth. “Just like that, so good, thank-thank you.”
A sense of pride hits you, increasing your speed as his legs start to move aimlessly around under you. Your jaw starts to become sore, so you decide to experiment some more. You give one long lick from base to tip, chasing a vein that travels around his cock. At the skin around his base, you suck lightly, giggling as he lets out a deep moan. You recall one tip telling you not to neglect the balls, so you travel down to one, sucking on the ribbed skin empirically.
“Fuck—I—” Eddie stutters out between loud gasps of pleasure, eyes closed.
You lick under it, trying to get every inch of skin as your hand absentmindedly strokes him. Your tongue goes back for his now leakier tip, engulfing his cock to the furthest of the back of your throat you possibly can, your gag reflex choking on him.
“Choke on that fat cock, baby, fucking choke on it!”
His stern tone surprises you, yet still turns you on as you continue the choking, now on purpose. You slobber all over his cock, one hand travelling up to hold his hand.
“Fuck, baby, I’m so fucking close…” You double down on every action, his hand squeezing the life out of yours. “Gonna cum down your throat…fuck—”
Eddie lets out the greatest moan of all time, a salty thick substance shooting down your throat as you swallow it easily. You barely have a chance to taste it, too much coming too fast to keep track, attempting to swallow it all. His cock finally stops twitching in your mouth, and as your mouth leaves him, you leave a final sweet kiss on the bright red tip.
As you lift your head to assess him, you see the obvious way his chest breathes in and out, catching his breath. You bite your lip as his eyes stay closed, palm on his forehead as he recovers. “Oh my god.”
“Yeah?” You ask, having never given head before.
“Uh, yeah!” He says as if he’s stating the obvious, falling back on the blanket. “Mere.” He sits back up, grabbing you at the shirt and putting his lips on yours. You moan into his mouth, panting happily as his tongue makes contact with yours. “Fuck, did you swallow?” He asks, fabric of your thin tank top lifted by his hand on your bare skin.
“Mmhmm!” You confirm, giggling as he lets out a sigh of contentment.
Eddie lifts your shirt off, the light-yellow fabric see through from the rain. He throws it across the van, moving you onto your back with his hand supporting the small of it. As he lies down alongside you, mouth slowly moving against yours and a hand trails along your skin, setting it on fire, yet goosebumps appear on your skin in its wake. His hand reaches its destination, travelling under the wire of your bra and starting to play with your peaked nipple.
You whimper into his mouth as he plays with it, tugging on it and sending pleasure down your spine. Your hands leave from where they were stationed on his shoulders to your skirt, trying to move it down your hips. “No, no, let me.” Eddie laughs, his hand leaving your nipple and replacing your hands on your skirt.
He tugs both your skirt and panties down off your legs, moving down the length as he gets them off your feet. You giggle and take off your shoes with it, watching as Eddie finishes taking off his pants and shoes as well.
Eddie lands back between your legs, his eyes hungry, making you feel vulnerable. A single hand, ever ambitious, moves around your back to take your bra off. To your surprise, he takes it off single handedly, the bra snapping off your back as a cheshire grin of satisfaction makes its way onto Eddie's lips. Finally, you move your hands around his back to help him take off his muscle shirt, admiring as each tattoo is revealed, finally allowed to ogle him.
You bite your lip, admiring him in the low light of the van. Eddie falters for a second, gulping. “I…I don’t have a condom.” He admits sheepishly.
You giggle, smiling at him happily. “I don’t care about that, I just need you to fuck me, Ed.”
He smiles, leaning in for a sweet, lush kiss. “I…I have to tell you something.” He sighs, on all fours as he hovers over you.
Your stomach swoops nervously. “Um…okay.”
He lines himself up, the tip slight pressure against your hole. “Okay?”
You nod, now confused. Wasn’t he going to tell you someth-oh my god. He slowly enters you, the pain over taking the pleasure, but the feeling still phenomenal.
“So tight.” He grunts, arms still straight as he waits for you to adjust.
It starts to feel overwhelmingly better, Eddie pulsing inside you, you can feel every inch against your walls. “More.” You plead.
Eddie pushes in a bit more, a high whine leaving your lips. “You’re doing so well, baby, taking this big fat cock.”
“Cock feels…so good…” You sigh, eyes closing on their own accord. “Didn’t…didn’t you have something to say?”
He laughs, his cock twitching in tandem. “I do…”
“You’re inside me, and you’re still a tease?” You ask, humming as it turns to pleasure again. “More.”
Eddie pushes in a little bit more, licking his lips as he takes in your pleasure-stricken face. “A tease, eh?” He asks, wondering what you meant.
“Walking in with your chest still wet—” you whine, interrupting yourself, “the cut off sleeves you wear, mast-masturbating in the shower…more.”
“Just a little bit more baby.” You don’t know how he could be any deeper, you’re pretty sure he’s already at your cervix. “Wait…you heard me in the shower?”
You huff a breath of laughter, tightening around him. “Mmhmm. Sounded so fucking hot, I might’ve touched myself in your bed when I heard it.”
Eddie moves in a final time without your say-so, and you moan in surprise. “Sorry, baby, you just—you just took me by surprise. You touched yourself in my bed? When I was in the shower?”
“Only because I could hear you.” You admit, your legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him closer to you.
“You could hear me? I was so sure I was being quiet.” He admits, his breath hot against your skin as he lies directly against you.
“Not really.” You admit, biting your lip in embarrassment. “It was so fucking hot, Ed.”
Eddie sighs, peppering kisses against your skin. “Well, I was thinking of you and those thin pjs you wear, sweetheart, so I guess it was a mutual masturbation.”
“I wondered if that was working.” You admit, humour in your voice. Eddie shakes his head, everything suddenly making sense. He kisses you deeply, hips still stagnant as he allows you to get used to his girth.
“So, you had something you wanted to tell me, Eddie?” You ask, slowly caressing the side of his torso, lightly tracing the tattoos you come in contact with.
“Mmhm.” He hums, leaning down to kiss skin gently, any skin he could reach. “Thanks for remembering.”
You roll your eyes, starting to get antsy at his still hips. “Just tell me.”
“I’m telling you this, because it broke me to see your reaction after you thought I even liked someone else.” The heartache seems so far away now, especially since he’s currently balls deep inside you. “I don’t just like you, sweetheart.” He admits, his voice suddenly soft and sweet. “I’m in love with you. I have been in love with you for as long as I’ve known you, at least, I think…I don’t know. But I don’t want anyone else, never have, baby. I just. Want.” Unexpectedly, he lifts his lips, pulling a gasp. “You.” He bucks his hips once for emphasis, taking in the already fucked out look on your face as you take in everything he just gave you.
“Really?” You ask in a light whisper, breathing heavily. “You-you love me?”
“Mmhmm.” He affirms, his hips bucking out slowly yet again.
“I-I love you too, Ed.” You admit, your heart open and full, every part of you, full, as he slowly fucks into you.
The words take a minute to register, his hips stilling completely. It’s such a tease, the way his hips still after only mere seconds of starting their trek. You whimper as an answer, your hips lifting to silently request that he’d continue. “Ed?”
“Oh my god…” he mutters, slowly lapping his way down your neck. “I’m so crazy for you, baby, so fucking insane.”
“Can…you please move?” You request politely, legs tense at his hips as your cunt begs for more attention.
“Need this fat cock to fuck you good, don’t you, baby?” He manages out, voice with a hint of husk in it as he continues to kiss his way down your body. The dip of your collarbone, valley of your tits, biting at the areola, licking dirtily along the curve of your breast…as far as he could go without his cock leaving you. “Hmm? Just desperate for it, aren’t you?”
One side of you wants to ask him where he's come up with this, because it’s driving you absolutely wild. The other side doesn’t fucking care where he got it from, the pleasure from his delicate licks consuming you whole. At a loss for words, you nod your head.
He grunts as he bucks himself into you, this one harder than the last. “Oh? Can’t use your words, baby?”
You whine, feeling pathetic, and yet, ravishing in it. “I just want you to rail me, please, please, Eddie.”
“Yeah?” He asks, turning his lips into your neck again, muttering against your throat. “How bad?”
“Enough to think about you” you huff, heat floating to your cheeks, hesitant in saying it. Could he just…keep moving? Please?
His teeth graze your ear, nipping at it. “Wanna finish that sentence, love?” Eddie asks, his voice making your thighs clench together around his hips.
“Eddie, I've thought about you everytime I fucked my pussy with my fingers. I’ve thought about you fucking me more times than I can count.”
“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t know how many times I’ve fucked my fist praying one day it would be you…whimpering and whining for me.”
“Then turn me into a fucking mess, Ed. Please.”
Finally, his lips leave your throat and he looks at you, his grin manic as those adorable dimples finally give you that look you’ve been craving for what feels like eons at this point. His hips move into action, fucking you at a force that pulls feral grunts out of your mouth, sounds you didn’t even know you had the capability of making.
“Baby, your pussy is so tight, just pulling me in.” He grunts, one hand curling its way into your hair, pulling lightly at the roots.
“Eddie, your cock feels so fucking good. Fucking—keep going—oh my god.”
Eddie is torn between moaning, grunting, and thoughts that are never finished. His hand, nimble and huge, trails up and down your torso, your legs, touching every inch he can. Finally, two of his fingers make their way to your clit, rubbing it with fervour. Your pussy clenches around his length as he continually bucks into you, the mix of sensations too much, and yet, everything you’ve ever wanted from him.
“Eddie, can you please do something for me?” You ask, reaching out to hold his face with both hands and giving him a sweet kiss.
He sighs into your kiss, tongue connecting with yours, and you feel dizzy and high in pleasure. “Anything, angel.”
“Want you to call me a slut.”
He leans in for another kiss, much dirtier and much needier. His hips rut into yours desperately. “Yeah? Dunno if you’ve really earned it…” he comments, teasing you.
You don’t realize he’s egging you on, desperate for him in ways you didn’t think you could be. Your mind goes to the thing it was fixated on when Eddie once held your face, hands petting two fingers absentmindedly. You grab at the same two fingers, nimble and long, and place them in your mouth, sucking as you wrap your tongue around them.
Eddie’s mouth opens, jaw slack as his tongue pokes out. A shine appears in his eyes, glazing over as they fixate on your mouth. Your mind might’ve been tricking you, but you swear his dick twitches inside you. His hips have stopped…again. “Oh shit, my dirty little slut.”
You nod your head enthusiastically, rutting your hips up again, silently begging for more. You moan around him, eyes hooded, Eddie blurring in your vision from the steep want. Your teeth graze his fingers lightly, lapping your tongue over it when he whines. Around his fingers you choke, your mouth hot and wet. Your mouth leaves his fingers for a moment, light shining in the spit glazing your mouth. “Baby I need you to fuck me. Please, Ed. Please.”
“Listen to this little slut beg for it. Can you beg some more? Hm? See that pretty little mouth beg, just for me.” His low rumble only spurring you on further.
Eddie knows you love what that husky voice is saying as your pussy pulses around him. “Hmm. Eddie, please, please fuck me. Need that cock so fucking bad. You have no idea how much you turn me on, your rings, your arms, fuck, that pretty fucking mouth, those gorgeous eyes, oh my fucking god. I have needed you to fuck me for this last year, please, Ed, just rail me until I can’t think.”
Your chest is heaving, eyes slowly assessing Eddie’s reaction. A smile slowly creeps on his face, until it’s a smirk that sends a shiver right through you. Your eyes dart back and forth between his, anticipating his next move, biting your lip. The first thing he does is lean down to give you a kiss, that can simply be described as romantic. His tongue reaches out to connect with yours, gliding together in a dance that you don’t think you’ll ever get over.
Honestly, you think, if his kiss ever bores you, the person to your left better beat your ass for taking for granted how fantastic these lips are.
After a moment of just his lips on yours, lying together so unified, you aren’t sure where he stops and you begin. Slowly, his kisses move from your lips, down the dip of your neck, and he licks slowly up to your ear. “Hmm. Fuck you until you can’t think? Baby, I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”
A moan leaves your throat, a hint of a whimper. His lips curl up more against your ear, a light laugh huffing against it.
Then, his hips get to work.
Every goddamn time Eddie stopped, every time he made you beg for him to keep going, whether it be silent or verbal, he makes up for it tenfold as soon as his hips start moving. He pushes up, using his hands to lift his body up and start fucking you at a relentless pace. Slowly, you recognize an annoying squeak fades in the background, the sound of the axel against his differential from his hips bucking wonderfully.
Not a word leaves your throat, the only sounds are small gasps falling from your lips, faster and faster as the pleasure impossibly grows within you. It feels like an aura of heat, radiating from your full pussy, and throughout your body.
“Feel good, baby? Feel that fat cock fucking you, good and full?” He grunts out from between gritted teeth.
You nod, whines leaving your throat, one shock at a time.
His hand on your hip tightens, nails digging into the doughy skin of your ass. “Hey, slut. I asked you a fucking question.”
“So good…so good…so fucking good…so fucking good. Ed-Eddie…I—” You’re cut off by your own shout, the way he hits hard, and deep, impossibly harder.
“Look at my cock-drunk little slut, taking this cock so well.” He mutters, voice deep and gasping for air. “Fuck, feels so good.”
Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him so his forehead lands on yours, harshly, but in a way that makes him grunt…almost…animalistic…
“Cum…cum in me…” it’s a struggle to get out, but once it does, you witness Eddie falter for just a second.
“R-really?”
“Please, please cum in me. Want it dripping out of me, please baby.”
His hand stutters in its movements, sliding up from your hips, to your neck, hands gently raising on the front. “Want me to cum in you?”
“Yes! Yes!”
“Want me to claim you as yours?”
“Been…been yours since I sat down at—ah—your table, Ed.”
“That’s fucking right, you have, you’re all fucking—all fucking mine.”
His hip movements are a little more jagged, his breathing heavy and jagged. “Harder.”
He chuckles, hand tightening around your throat, a grunt leaving your throat at each fucking hit. “Fuck…gonna—”
He cuts himself off, his cum filling you up deliciously in spurts of hot, white, mess. You go over the edge with him, your orgasm hitting you in a way that will have you fucking skipping around the halls of the school. You whine his name, choked out past his ring-necklace wrapped around your neck.
His torso collapses on yours, covered in sweat in the thick of the van.
His hand leaves your neck, both wrapping themselves into your hair. You seem to finally catch your breath, almost gasping as his weight is the most comforting thing you’ve ever felt in your life. He’s laid on you several times before, but never this intimate, his breath mixing with yours, making you feel whole.
You giggle, a smile that takes over your face in every muscle, completely lighting up. As much as you try, you can’t hold it in. It floats down your face and into your body, every limb full of complete joy. Eddie twists his head into your neck, you feel the wide smile he makes, gorgeous laughter leaving his lips against you. His teeth nip at your neck, making you giggle harder, hands flying up to your face.
Eddie leans up his face to see yours, the lazy smile lopsided, a pretty shine in his eyes. It’s…new…and radiant. You giggle again as you look up at him, your hands landing on each side of his rosy, glowing, cheeks. His skin is hot and flushed, your thumbs slowly caressing his face.
He leans in for another kiss, gentle this time, making you feel all too dizzy. A sigh of utter contentment leaves your mouth, biting your lips anxiously. “Hi, love.” He mutters, a lithe finger moving a strand of hair that fell into your eye. “Doin’ good?”
You nod, shyly rubbing your head into his chest. “Very good.”
He laughs, tilting his head up to face the roof of the van, still sheltering you from the sturdy and never-ending rain. “Fuck, rain hasn’t stopped.”
“It’s pretty.” You comment, observing the pattern of the roof his van. “I love the sound.”
He hums, eyes raking you over as he leans into you. “Not as good as the sounds you make.”
You roll your eyes, hitting his arm gently. “Eddie.” You giggle, legs wrapping themselves around him. “What a line.”
His lips softly land on your cheek, giving you a final kiss. “Not a line, just the truth.” He whispers, hands now preparing himself to lift out of you.
“Wait.” You stop him, holding on to one of those strong arms of his. “I—I really don’t want you to leave yet, baby.”
A laugh escapes his throat, in utter disbelief if anything. “Oh, we have plenty of time for cock-warming, gorgeous, don’t you fucking worry.” He assures you. “I just thought we could go to my house, make out and watch a movie, ya know?”
“Mmhmm.” You answer, still moaning at the loss that was too much to handle. “I just wanted to…revel in it.”
“Oh, I love you so fucking much.” He sighs, grinning at you as he crawls to his clothes.
You lean up into your elbows, a symphony of giggles leaving your throat as he tosses your panties into your face. “Can we make out on your couch?”
“Whatever you want, baby.” Eddie tells you, curly hair that’s already frazzled from the humidity even crazier from the tryst. “Hell, you can ride me, let’s get out of his van before we both catch a cold.”
You put on the skirt he hands to you. “Both?”
“Yep.” He nods, also throwing his jacket. “You walked a mile in the pouring rain with no jacket on. You’re gonna be a mess this weekend.”
Nodding, you agree with him. “I mean I’ll be a mess either way, no?”
Eddie shakes his head as he puts on his shirt, giving you a look you’ve been dying for him to shoot you. As if he’s so lucky to have caught you.
He’s wrong, you’re the lucky one. The two of you finally finish getting dressed, meeting in the middle in your cold, wet clothes. You crawl into his arms, nuzzling his chest as he places a kiss on your damp hair. “C’mon, let’s figure out how far we can get into Halloween before ripping each other’s clothes off again.”
You giggle, climbing into the passenger seat. If it was up to you, the tape wouldn’t even make it into the VCR.
Your hand intertwines with his on the way there, your whole body relaxing into the fabric seats. He can’t keep his eyes on the road, glancing at you every five seconds. It’s hard to believe only twelve hours ago you were in bed cocooned because your heart was aching so badly.
Now your heart aches in a completely different way, and it’s from not being able to comprehend that you could love and be loved in return just as much.
The next morning, Wayne walks into his trailer to see clothes scattered along the hall. You didn’t even make it to the couch.
-
Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.
Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420
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suzukiblu · 10 days
Text
WIP excerpt behind the cut; "Tim's free cloning lab". (( chrono || non-chrono ))
“Red Robin’s commitment issues are his own problem, not mine. I’ve got a schedule to keep,” Luthor replies dismissively, then knocks back the last of his hopefully-actually-a-protein-shake-and-not-Bane-venom-or-something and gets to his feet, picking up his tablet again as he does. He does not seem concerned to be alone in a lab full of sharp objects and computers with two only negligibly-restrained Bats. Admittedly Luthor doesn’t tend to seem concerned during literal multiversal apocalypses, but Tim is vaguely insulted on principle. A multiversal apocalypse couldn’t do any worse than uncreate Luthor and everything he’s ever done in his life, after all. He could tank his stock prices and drive up all his insurance rates, and then make him have to live with it. 
A little respect isn’t that much to ask, is it? 
“Wow, called out by the supervillain,” Steph mutters to him under her breath. “The Metropolis supervillain, even.” 
“I do not have commitment issues,” Tim mutters back to her. 
“Yes you do, the issue is you commit yourself to somebody and then become an insane person about them but never actually mention the existence of said commitment to them,” she retorts frankly. 
“I do not–” 
“When did you go for the red and black suit again and how long did you stick with it?” 
“. . . we’re in a supervillain lair in Connecticut, I don’t have to answer that right now.” 
“Oh, so you will later?” 
“So anyway, new supervillain trap, how’s that going for you?” Tim asks Luthor. Steph snorts at him; he ignores her and all her baseless, ridiculous, baseless accusations that are definitely not currently reading him for absolute filth. “All coming together nicely, no tech issues? Because we could troubleshoot those for you while we’re waiting for extraction, no charge.” 
“The chemical breakdown of the necessary stabilizer you missed when you were cleaning out my old labs is laid out in file B-2.13, speaking of ‘troubleshooting’,” Luthor mentions, and Tim . . . pauses. 
“‘Stabilizer’,” he echoes carefully, and then glances around the sunroom lab. The sunroom cloning lab. 
The sunroom. 
Ah. 
That is probably a connection he should've made, like . . . literally instantly, yeah. 
“Oh my god, do you think you can actually convince Red Robin to make you another–wait, why do you even want Red Robin to make you another Superman or whatever, you did it better than he ever did,” Steph says, squinting in bewilderment at Luthor through her mask. Tim’s much more insulted this time, even if it’s objectively true that Kon is objectively–never mind. Luthor just looks dubious. 
“I don’t want another Superman, there are already far too many of those running around and being an issue as it is,” he snorts dismissively, waving her off. “And I’m willing to provide a useful little resource or two, of course, but it’s hardly traditional to have to make my own grandchildren, now is it. Besides, Supernova won’t be as annoyed about it if they come from you. Though I did include some potential design notes for your consideration in the C folder, of course. Streamlined the tactile telekinesis a bit, for starters. It really didn’t come out as effective as intended, unfortunately.” 
“Of course,” Tim echoes, perfectly aware of that one time that Kon took apart every single gun inside the exact city limits of Los Angeles and nothing else without even meaning to, and also that one time last week when he very much did mean to disassemble a bomb immediately after its trigger mechanism had been tripped, and did it so fast that it didn't detonate. 
So as politely as possible, that makes Luthor’s use of the word “effective” slipped in there a little mind-numbingly terrifying to consider. 
More than anything else, though, Tim really hopes that he’s just gone insane and hallucinated all this, because otherwise he’s going to have to write all this down in a report, and Steph will not lie for him about this one. 
Case in point: she is currently laughing her fucking ass off at him.
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mostlymihawk · 2 months
Text
Getting Sick!
Straw Hat Crew (+ Shanks + Mihawk) x GN reader
Prompt: How they react to you getting sick.
CW: Emetophobia (throwing up)
Luffy:
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Completely useless.
The man's made of rubber, he doesn't have a clue what to do.
"Um...it's gonna be okay? It's gonna be okay, right?"
You have to ask him for everything.
Does carry you to bed when asked, and will happily snuggle you.
Then asks if you want something to eat.
Food is the solution, and refuses to understand that food can also be the problem.
Nami:
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Holds your hair and runs her fingers through it at the same time.
Also dabbing your face and neck with a cold cloth.
Certified professional make-it-better-er.
She did a lot of throwing up when she was younger.
Childhood trauma combined with lying to your sister and working for your mother's murderer will do that.
Knows exactly what she would have wanted, and gives it all to you.
"It's gonna be okay. I've got you, sweetheart."
Keeps tabs on your temperature to make sure this isn't a symptom of something bigger.
Refuses to let you out of bed until you're 100% better.
Zoro:
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Keeps his face carefully blank and gently rubs your back.
Looking away the whole time.
You know him well enough to know he does not want to be doing this.
Handles blood just fine but this is a whole other ballgame and he wants no part of it.
Happily helps you to bed after, because it means the gross part is over.
"Better out than in...I guess."
Then he remembers someone has to take care of the cleanup.
Tries to frame it as discipline training to make it better.
Usopp:
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Useless, but tries his best.
"Do you need a cloth? Some water? I can get, uh...fresh pair of clothes?"
Standing outside the door, so you croak out what you need and he runs to get it for you.
Needs to be filling the silence.
If he's not asking you something and you're not answering he's talking about how this reminds him of that one time in the Forest of Doom...
Spends the whole night telling stories to help you get to sleep.
Gets a lot better when he realizes this isn't all that much different than barnacles and bird poop.
Unfortunately, the worst of it has already passed by then.
Confidently assures you he'll be ready for next time, though.
Sanji:
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As a gentleman, it's his duty to take care of his significant other when they're sick.
He's damn good at it too.
That doesn't mean he has to like it.
His face is pinched as his thumb gently rubs your back, he dabs your face and neck, and offers you sips of water when you can manage it.
"You're alright, sweetheart. A little bit of my tender love and care and you'll be on your feet in no time."
And then he notices the colour, not unlike the blueberry reduction from the dessert you'd asked for after lunch.
Gently helps you to your room, and it's not until the next day that you notice anything is amiss.
In. con. solable.
No one has ever gotten sick from his food before. Ever.
Refuses to serve food.
The Straw Hats have to turn back to Baratie so Zeff can literally beat some sense into him.
Shanks:
Bonus!
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This crew loves its alcohol way too much for Shanks to be even the slightest bit bothered by a little vomit.
Sits by your side, dabbing your face, rubbing your back, completely unfazed, cracking jokes the entire time.
"Snuck into the hold and had yourself a little party without me, did you?"
Knows exactly what to do to help you feel better.
Again, the crew loves alcohol too much for anything else to be true.
Cuddles. So many cuddles.
This crew is too experienced to let a sick crew member come back to work early, so despite the unserious approach you're on strict bedrest.
The whole crew makes fun of you...but only once you've recovered.
Mihawk:
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This is not a man who routinely deals with people being sick.
Confused.
Why are you sick.
Who caused this.
Who does he need to kill.
(It's whoever cooked your dinner at that restaurant you went to last night, but you don't tell him that.)
Completely repulsed, does not let it show on his face while he tends to you.
Rubs your back very gently, and uses a cool cloth to wipe the sweat off your face.
Helps you to bed, sits up and lets you lean against his chest so you're upright, and encourages a few sips of water.
"Get some rest, my jewel."
The next day there's a doctor at your bedside.
You don't need a doctor, but the look on Mihawk's face says this is non-negotiable.
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signedkoko · 8 months
Note
SPOILERS?? MAYBE
Wife!reader waiting for Alastor in his Radio tower after the final big battle, knowing he'd go there and waiting for him there, Scolding him and angry at him, Talking about how worried they were and how they saw everything. But then it turns fluffy at the end :3
Alastor X Reader [Romantic]
In which you lost track of him during the battle, so you wait in his tower hoping he made it. Reader is female.
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The battle had been planned over the series of a day, everyone practicing and learning how to defend themselves
Being an overlord and promised watcher over the hotel, Alastor was of course given a tall order; he was to take care of Adam
While he acted as if it were nothing and swept it by as if it'd be another easy task, you weren't so confident in his abilities against such a powerful angel
Not that you didn't trust him, just that it's scary to think he'd be doing it all alone
Though you offered support, he outright refused it
" Can't have you in the way! You are just so distracting! "
Yeah right
As much as you wanted to protest, you knew he wouldn't budge on it
But as Adam parted the battle and Alastor was nowhere to be seen, you assumed the worst along with everyone else
He'd been killed so easily? Certainly not, would he really give up his life like that? Your anger boiled up in you as you fought, and it carried you past your limit until everything was rubble
While you had the chance, you quickly whisked away to his tower, which now lay broken in the soil, though still partially intact
You had to kick the door a few times before it finally broke open, having been blocked by some debris
You hoped to all gods that you'd see him in there, but it was as silent and empty as you dreaded
You figure Husk would have said something if he felt his chains come loose, though, so you crawled up into the chair which he normally sat to broadcast and waited
And waited
Until finally, your looped prayer was answered when he came limping through the hatch
You could tell he was panicking or overwhelmed; you weren't entirely sure what, but you scrambled towards him
" Alastor! You're okay- "
" Get away from me. "
You stopped in your tracks, staring at him with bewilderment
He'd never sounded like that, especially not towards you, it frustrated you beyond belief that he refused you at a time like this
" No, no! I thought you died out there! All because you thought you could handle things on your own when you clearly cannot! "
Hot tears welled in the corner of your eyes, the silence only intruded by creaking, and the sound of your hissing breaths
It took him a moment, but the overlord straightened himself out, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he soaked in your reply
It wasn't fair of him to say that to you, and you were right, but something in him felt so shaky; his smile felt more forced than ever; he felt as if his wings had been clipped
" Dearest, you know me better than anyone, but unfortunately, there are things I cannot tell you—even if I want to. "
You knew he was bound by someone and chained, and as he spoke with such a lost desperation, you couldn't help but cry harder as the guilt consumed you
" I'm just glad you're alive. "
While you stood with what felt like an infinite space between you, the crackle in the air started to come back to him, which followed with his arms reaching out to you
You found yourself burying yourself in them, clinging to his shirt until your knuckles strained, and you cried
With no one else around to witness it, he wrapped his arms around you, ensuring you were secure
He'd do whatever it took to find a way out, so he could promise you an eternity by his side
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Author's Note - Finally got to your req 🖤 Its so lovely to see you in my inbox, Lilith!! Thank you for requesting 🥂
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strwberri-milk · 2 months
Note
can i req love and deepspace boys gossiping to us or us gossiping to them, I wanna hear whatever juicy gossip you got lol I hope this isn't to much lmao
LMAOO i read this request as you want the gossip that I personally have which i do have tons of i LOVE gossiping its so bad my prev manager had to do a callout on the staff bc we all gossiped way too much but like. if you dont want us to gossip about you maybe dont be married SEVEN times??? /lh ofc idgaf
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Zayne isn't much for gossip. He doesn't mind listening to you if you've got something to say but he doesn't ever seek out tea unfortunately. You know there just has to be some juicy gossip at the hospital - and you're not even talking about the patients you tell him whenever he talks to you about medical confidentiality - but he refuses to indulge you.
However, that doesn't mean he's safe from it at work. The other staff get bored and things get messy sometimes! He ends up passively absorbing gossip through the others, coming home and giving it to you in small doses.
You can't believe that he's gossiping - even if it's more like he tells you something then goes to do something else because as far as he's concerned he doesn't really know anything else about the situation so he can't answer your questions. That doesn't stop you from theorising with him, asking him what he thinks is more likely as you run through a bunch of theories.
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Xavier doesn't gossip actively with you but if you start pointing things out to him he starts paying more attention. If you mention something seems suspicious the next time he's near that person he'll gently pry information out of them, providing you with the answers that you so desperately crave.
He doesn't mind it at all when you tell him the gossip that you've collected. He'll respond with the information he's pulled, you very happily taking in all of it. He just likes the fact that it makes you happy - and the fact that he doesn't have to learn a bunch of new people's names since most of the gossiping you do is about people from work.
He finds himself looking at everybody with a different perspective, especially if he's learned something especially salacious about them. He won't make it obvious that he knows something so nobody would even know it's happening, but he definitely has his thoughts on certain things.
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Rafayel LOVES gossip. He LIVES for it. You don't even have to say anything for him to be calling you over because he heard something SO slimy while he was at a show today.
He gets bored of the regular scandals - cheating spouses, hidden assets - he loves hearing the messier things and getting details if he can. He's very good at pulling information out of people so he also secretly gets all the tea so he can come home and give it all to you.
If you have tea then he wants to hear everything about it. He doesn't care if he doesn't know these people and never will - he wants you to pull out photos and give him real names. He will also ask about how things develop if it's an ongoing story. The only time his memory works well is if it's something about you, or some new gossip you've given him.
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thithesandofferings · 2 months
Text
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How Touchstarved are they?
~A/N: Random Headcanon. Dont look at me. Came from this excerpt.
~Tags: MDNI 18+. G!Reader. Little sprinkle of Yandere (I mean its Leander come on). Fingering. Overstimming. Orgasm Denial. Everyone is a little pouty and its kinda cute.
Ais
Ais is fine touching you…but only when its on his terms. If you go out of your way to give him affection, he will freeze. And become suspicious. He's going to do all he can to not show you how affected he actually is. But despite his slight avoidance, he likes the game you play and wants to always up the stakes (Even if you have no idea that you're playing the game. You just gave him a hello in greeting). You brush his arm when asking a question, then he's backing you against the wall and kissing you until you forget your question. It was invasive anyways- he probably wasn't gonna answer it. A forehead kiss? Well you're getting fingered in the alleyway behind the bar. He'll cover your mouth cause he wants you to hear the slick sounds of your hole as he gives your g-spot the kiss it deserves. Anyways, don't do anything if you dont want the consequences.
Leander
Leander touch borders on starvation. He pulls and prods and grasps at whatever he can. He thinks he's going to lose you, and its not a sorrowful pitiful feeling. Its targeted, jealousy bleeding from his mouth to yours- and he wants everything you have. Leander borders on overstimming you at every cost. Making you sob from fucking his fingers inside you over and over. He complains that he's touch starved, but you know deep down its more than that. Hunger bleeds into his magic when he's near you. Gets him in the mood to eat you out. No he wont be done with just one or two…or three… There isnt a spell in the world that can stop him from putting his mouth on you. He's greedy and you're his. Fingerprints embedding into your hips and its a staple piece, he gets absolutely pouty when they start to fade. Doesn't ask when he bites into your shoulder hard he murmurs seemingly innocent apologies. He cant help it, he has to.
Mhin
Abhors it. Or so they say. Literally runs from touch as much as possible. At least in the beginning. Shivers wrack their body differently when you brush past them. Hides away for days when you kiss them all over their face. Rubbing your hands down their back will unfortunately get you put on your back. Legs held down and spread as they grumble about how you're too comfortable with touching them. They dont say to stop. Nor are they ever going to say they're grateful. Please do not sit in their laps, pressing up against them as you put your fingers in their hair. Mhin is going to make you stay. It's okay, be good and just take what they give you. Doesnt matter if you're the one crying by the end of it.
Vere Wait because touching means nothing to him really. He's desired by many. But one day he notices how much you mean to him. If you get him to the point of feeling safe. Well he's all over you. Hand on every part of you all the time. You're practically stuck at the hip. Mentioning it will give you a funny quip, but a murderous stare. Not above fucking you in public when someone approaches you in a way he doesn't like. Makes you sit on his cock- hand around your throat, making sure that the plebeian that even graced your presence watches as you take every inch. Gasping out his name is not enough. He wants you louder than the bar patrons bellows of laughter. Grins when he can see people trying hard not to look, the group coughing and adjusting. Just makes his hips bridge into you faster.
Kuras
Kuras has no need for touch. He seems a bit above it. But he can see that you need it. And oh…well thats interesting isn't it? How long can you go without his touch he wonders. Nonchalantly avoids you in disguise of being "busy". His eyes darkening when he can see the need for him in your eyes. Likes that you're starting to shake and even snap at him. Can't really blame him for giving up when you start to paw at his robes begging for anything he can give you. All he has to do is close his hands over yours and he can see the visceral relief in your eyes…and that does something to Kuras. Likes that you clench so tight around him, wet gasps and hiccupping tear reign supreme even over his coos of acknowledgement. Thinking maybe its unsightly for him to feel this sort of pleasure, especially when he pauses just as youre about to come. Rubbing the tears of your flushed face, hushing you. Telling you he's going to give exactly what you want. Just ask for it. Beg for it even. He wonders how far he can go next time. Wonders what you'll do if he pulled out and left you right there. Hmm. Maybe next time.
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Text
Superpham AU (part 4)
Original prompt + parts 1-3
Masterpost
-----
It's not the most awkward dinner Lois has ever had, but only because she's dined with literal supervillains before.  
Danny is poking at his Mongolian beef with his fork more than he's actually eating it.  Lois can hardly blame him; it’s been a difficult few days for her and she’s not the one who just landed in a different dimension from the one she grew up in.  But Danny certainly isn’t up to keeping conversation going.
Jon is making a valiant effort, but he seems distracted.  He keeps shooting looks at Lois and Clark when he thinks they’re not looking, and while he recounts everything he and Damian got up to (not too much trouble, thankfully, although that wasn’t saying much), he’s less enthusiastic than he would normally be.  
Clark keeps shooting Jon worried looks when he thinks Jon isn’t looking.  Lois will have to ask him how that conversation went; it seems like it was rough on both of them. 
Eventually, even Jon runs out of things to say, and the four of them sit around the table, eating their Chinese takeout in silence.  
“So, Danny,” Lois finally says.  “I don’t know how the dimension you grew up in differs from this one, but if you have any questions about anything, please ask one of us.”
“It’s not that different,” Danny says.  “I mean, it is in some ways, but it’s still Earth, you know?”
Lois isn’t entirely certain she does, but this doesn’t seem to be the time to ask.  Maybe when things are less fresh.
Jon has no such compunctions.  “What’s the biggest difference?” 
Danny looks thoughtful.  “You guys have a lot of superheroes here,” he finally says.
“What kind of superheroes did your other world have?” Jon asks eagerly.  
“We mostly didn’t,” Danny says.  “I mean, I guess Phantom kind of counts.  But that’s it.”
“That’s it?” Jon is clearly flabbergasted by this.  Lois fights a smile, and she can see Clark doing the same thing.  Jon has never known a world without the Justice League, but she and Clark can both remember when superheroes were much, much rarer.
“Most people probably wouldn’t even count Phantom,” Danny says.  “The kids mostly did, but a lot of adults didn’t trust him because he was… because he wasn’t exactly human.”
Combined with what Danny said before about that interdimensional portal, this is painting a picture Lois really doesn’t like.
“There are folks like that everywhere, unfortunately,” Clark says.  “And you can’t always change their minds. But I believe most people are better than that."
Judging by Danny's expression, he wasn't entirely convinced of that. Lois couldn't blame him; she has enough trouble seeing the good in people the way Clark did, and the other dimension sounds worse than hers in this regard.  
Danny doesn’t seem inclined to talk about it any further.  Silence lingers for just a beat too long before he speaks.  “Oh, the sun’s yellow here.  That’s different, too.”
-----
The front door slams, shaking the house, and Jon scrambles into the kitchen.  
“Where’s Ma and Pa?” he demands.
Kon mentally says goodbye to his tentative plans for the day.  Not that he minds hanging out with Jon, but he’s clearly upset about something.  Kon’s good at a lot of things, but emotional conversations is not one of them.
“They’re in town for the day,” Kon says.  “You’re lucky they didn’t hear you slam the door like that.”
“Did you know about Danny?” Jon demands.
“Who?”
“Dan-El.”
Clark texted a couple of days ago, telling Kon to call when he had time.  Kon has been putting it off, knowing that Clark has better ways of getting in touch with him if there’s a real emergency.  That’s starting to seem like a mistake.
He doesn’t answer Jon right away, which Jon seems to take as its own answer.  
“Did everyone know but me?” Jon demands.
The thing is, Kon is pretty sure he's not supposed to know about Dan-El. Lois and Clark have never breathed a word about him in Kon's hearing.
He only knows because he spent an afternoon helping Ma go through some old boxes up in the attic and found a box of photos-- mostly of Clark as a kid, but some of Ma and Pa when they were younger.
"Oh goodness," Ma had said, when she'd notices what Kon was looking at. "I keep telling myself I'm going to organize those and put them in an album, but I never get around to it."
She'd sat down next to Kon and looked through the pictures with him, pointing out her favorites and telling stories to accompany them. ("And that one was from just after Clark's tenth birthday-- we had to get a new door because his strength was just coming in and he broke the old one.")
Then Kon had pulled out a photo of a toddler, sitting on the front porch with Pa. He'd thought it was a picture of Clark at first, but Pa's hair was considerably more gray than it was in the pictures from Clark's childhood, and Ma had just told him that the porch had been rebuilt and expanded after Clark broke the old one in tenth grade.
"Oh, that's Daniel," Ma said. She'd gently taken the photo from Kon's hand and ran a finger over not-Clark's face. "He was our first grandson-- Lois and Clark's oldest." She'd gone on to tell him the whole sad story.
There's a small headstone for Daniel Kent in the Smallville cemetery, right next to Pa's parents. Kon thinks it must have been Ma or Pa's idea; there was no body to bury and as far as he knows, Lois and Clark never visit it.
“I don’t think that’s it,” Kon says.  “I think it’s just not something they talk about.”  Jon doesn’t look convinced, so he adds, “They told you now, right?”
“Only after he showed up!” 
“Wait, what?”  Kon is starting to think he really should have replied to that message from Clark.
-----
Not for the first time, Clark wishes there was a handbook for this sort of thing.  But oddly enough, parenting manuals generally don’t cover how to talk to your long-lost son about his alien heritage.  He’s put this off long enough already; Danny had spent most of the previous day out with Lois, picking up all the necessities he didn’t have.
“So…” Danny says, kicking his feet a little.  He’s sitting next to Clark on this skyscraper, his feet dangling over the edge.  It makes Clark a little nervous, seeing how Danny can’t fly yet, but he also knows he’s fast enough to catch Danny if he were to fall.
"Lois said you're an alien?" The words are softened by the blatant curiosity in Danny's tone, and Clark remembers Lois recounting how excited Danny was to meet J'onn and to see space from the Watchtower. 
It's a sentiment Clark can understand. He's traveled through space and met aliens both hostile and friendly. He regularly meets with his colleagues on an orbiting space station. And yet, seeing his adopted planet from space still fills him with awe.
"When I was born, my parents— my birth parents— already knew our planet, Krypton, was dying," Clark begins. It's not an easy story to tell, but the grief is old. Not gone, but distant. It's a place and a people he will never know except through stories and the archives in the Fortress— but those, at least, he can share. He tells Danny this, too, and promises to take him to the Fortress soon. It would be easier if Danny could fly, but he'll make it work. 
"You should talk to Kara, too," Clark adds. 
"Who's Kara?"
"My cousin. Right now she's in space, on a Justice League mission, but you'll meet her when she gets back. She was a teenager when Krypton was destroyed; she has firsthand memories."  He’ll save explaining the part where she got caught in suspended animation for later; he’s dumped a lot of information on Danny already.
“You said something the other night about yellow sun radiation?” Danny asks.
“It’s what gives Kryptonians our power, here on Earth,” Clark says.  
“And what powers are those, exactly?” Danny seems more hesitant than Clark would usually expect of a teenager finding out he’s going to develop superpowers— but then, they already know Danny grew up in a world where that sort of thing was feared and looked down upon.  
“Enhanced sense, enhanced strength and speed, flight, invulnerability— there are others, but those are the main ones to expect.”
Danny nods thoughtfully.
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bangtangalicious · 2 months
Text
nexus (m) part 6
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pairing: jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader ft. hobi x reader, namjoon x reader, yoongi x reader
smut: taehyung x reader, jungkook x reader, some hobi x reader
premise: a notorious casino conglomerate took you in when you were young. you grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and engaged to the youngest. after a shocking murder, a detective with a vendetta drags you into unraveling a web of dangerous lies that cause you to question who you trust, and who you love
genre: 18+ slow burn romance mafia elite arranged marriage murder mystery thriller
characters: detective jungkook, heir taehyung, ceo namjoon, arms dealer hoseok, bartender yoongi, doctor jimin, best friend/heir seokjin
wordcount: 6.2k
warnings: 18+ multiple smut scenes, oral (f and m), fingering, sexual tension, like a lot of sexual tension, a lot of subtle touching, grinding, kisses, possessive behavior, tsundere!taehyung, implied bipolar disorder, angstttt, betrayal, light yandere undertones, taehyung gets his first kiss...and some other things too ;) breast play, hella teasing, did i mention sexual tension idk taehyung is hot ok but hes also scary do with that what you will, declarations of love, jungkook tryna be sweet we been knew ig, as you might imagine this sets the foreplay for loads of smut in the next part LOL, its a lot of slow burn build up and evident thirsting over this taehyung okay im not sorry
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“I can’t lose you”
Taehyung’s words haunted you as you stared aimlessly at the tiled ceiling. The hospital room chilly, the smell of alcohol—the sanitizing kind, unfortunately—overwhelming your senses. There were other things you could be thinking about. Namjoon in jail. Jimin dead. Hobi betraying your trust.
But no. It had been Taehyung’s eyes that were on your mind—was it concern? Worry? Taehyung with emotions was a rare sighting. You were practically cherishing the moment.   
“It’s late”
The devil in question sat by the windowsill of your private hospital room, minding his own. Reading. Fingers bending the corners of a paperback novel as his eyes trailed over the pages with interest.
Even in the dark hue of the night, the faded moon seemed to hit his face just right.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“Go to sleep” His answer was frank, “None of that matters until you get better”
“How can I not think about it?” You snapped. “Namjoon went to jail for me. Because I was an idiot and trusted Hobi. Bet my ass he killed Dr. Park too. I’m probably next. And if he murders me—you won’t get to, Tae”
The corners of Taehyung’s lips curled ever so slightly.
His uninterested eyes steady on the pages of his novel. Not bothering to glance your way.
“Have you ever considered just keeping yourself out of dangerous situations? Whatever it is you’re trying to prove…that you’re powerful, like your mother…that my family wronged you—all it does is show that you’re still their puppet.”
He exhaled sharply, a dismissive scoff that tore your confidence thread by thread, finally meeting your eyes.
“It’s pathetic”
You’d had just about enough of him. Fingernails digging into your palms.
“You’re an asshole Taehyung” You informed him. He shrugged.
“I’m honest” He countered. “And you’re not used to that. You’re used to being babied.” Finally setting his book aside, he walked up to your bedside, kneeling down until he was at your eye level.
“Now will you please sleep?”
The look in his eyes perplexed you. You couldn’t quite tell if he was annoyed, or if he genuinely cared about your health.
Deep down, you knew he was right. Everything you’d done had been to prove a point.
Taehyung rested his head on the armrest. Watching you intently, his eyes tired, dropping unconsciously.
“You’re the one who needs sleep, idiot” You muttered under your breath, letting your fingers run through his soft, wispy black hair. “Taehyung” You nudged him. He barely opened his eyes. 
“Get in here” You shifted over, giving him space. He didn’t question it in the moment, he was probably too tired. He didn’t face you. Kept a decent distance between you both.
You were paralyzed. Aware of his every breath. Aware of the way he shifted himself to get comfortable—you could sense the intention in his avoidance of touching your skin even slightly. His scent was more prominent.
“Do you miss your mother?”
His question was so quiet, you weren’t even sure it was real.
And it occurred to you then, that you’d never thought about it. That you’d never even been asked. In the chaos of your mother’s death, your move to the Kim’s and Taehyung being sent away—you barely even processed anything. All you remembered was Jin being so patronizingly worried about you—convincing you that he was all you needed. That you moving in with him would fix everything.
You blinked wildly. Trying to piece together a coherent answer.
“I liked her” A smile creeped onto his face. Or so you thought, as you turned to see the side of his face—his eyes steady on the ceiling fan. “She’d always get me hotteok”
You watched him. Inspected the mole on his neck. The curve of his cheek. The way his long lashes merged when he’d blink. The way the night sparkled in his eyes. The same eyes that would bend your will so easily.
Young Taehyung would give you one look and you’d give him the world. And he’d known it too.
It was so quiet. But your chest was beating loud in your ears.
You must have fallen asleep despite yourself. Dreaming of Jungkook had become a standard practice. This time, he was drowning. You were him, and he couldn’t breathe. You reached out to him as he screamed for you. He was terrified. Falling. Dying.
Breathe.
You tried to tell him. Swim to the surface. Breathe. Something chained him down.
Your eyes shot open.
It was dark.
You. You couldn’t breathe.
Suffocating you, the cotton tasted bitter on your toungue. You squirmed. Thrashing, trying to grab for someone—anyone. You screamed out, for what it was worth. Scratching at the strong hands that held the pillow down over your face.
Adrenaline surged. It occurred to you to kick your legs. You did.
Suddenly the grip loosened.
Taehyung was on the floor.
Panting.
Hyperventilating.
The pillow inches from his palm.
He was quivering. Eyes shot—looking down as if he himself couldn’t believe what he was doing.
You stared at him. Trying to comprehend. Trying to rationalize.
“Taehyung” His name left your mouth in a more accusatory manner than you meant it to. Was it a question or a plea—you were unsure. He met your eyes, and you saw fear. As if he’d been pulled out of a trance.
“I—” He couldn’t form the words. He receded into himself, moving back until he was as far from your hospital bed as he could be. Back pressed against the wall as he hugged his knees to his chest. His voice was shaking, “I don’t—”
“Were you trying to kill me?” You yelped, looking around suddenly for your phone. Grabbing it you held it to your chest, ready to call for help if he tried anything. You almost wanted to laugh—thinking for a moment that you were safe around Kim fucking Taehyung.
You should’ve known better.
Taehyung’s eyes were overcome with horror. Disgust, at himself. He looked at his hands as if they weren’t a part of his own body. Then back at you.
“Princess” He was breathless, “—I swear, I didn’t mean to. I was d-dreaming, I didn’t know”
You gulped. Your fingers curling around your phone as you tried to think.
Maybe he was telling you the truth. Taehyung didn’t know to lie to you. He was honest if nothing else.
“Come back” You let your voice soften, but your body remained tense. “Go back to sleep Tae”
Taehyung gave you an uncertain look.
You rose from the bed, the hospital gown falling loosely around your curves. Kneeling down, you met his eyes at his level. Taking the pillow from the ground, you reached your other hand out to him.
“Maybe,” You sighed, “Maybe being in a hospital is triggering for you” It was a stretch, but you needed to believe there was something. Something that wasn’t that Taehyung hated your guts. Resented you, and would go as far as to kill you in your sleep because of it.
“It is”
He confessed quietly, still not meeting your gaze.
The pout on his lips, evident.
“You didn’t have to stay”
He looked at you.
He said nothing.
“Why don’t I call Yoongi, hm?” You reasoned, “He can take you home” And then you can call Jungkook and get the fuck away from him.
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The phone rang.
Jungkook groaned, shoving his face into his pillow.
It kept fucking ringing.
Knowing deep down it might be the precinct, reluctantly, he put the phone to his ear.
“Hey”
Your voice was an aphrodisiac.
He felt it straight in his chest. Awake, now. Worried, seconds later.
He rubbed his eyes, checking his phone to see how late it was.
“Y/n? Baby, is everything okay? Are you still at the hospital?”
“I’m fine.” You weren’t. He could hear the tremble in your voice, “I just sent Taehyung home. Can I come to your place?”
Jungkook sighed. “Sure. I’ll be there soon”
Perks of having a police vehicle. Traffic was never an issue for him.
Entering the hospital, he noticed Yoongi and Taehyung in the lobby, heading towards the back exit. Yoongi had his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. Seemed to be reassuring him.
Jungkook wondered what happened. You called Yoongi to the hospital so late to take Taehyung home.
He got in the elevator. He knew what room you were in. He’d been the one to bring you to the hospital, before the staff kindly reminded him he was not family—or rather, he wasn’t a Kim, and therefore couldn’t go into your room.
Then Jimin’s body was found. Duty called.
Three gunshots. He didn’t see him, but the autopsy report was eerily similar to that of his own fathers.
You were waiting at the front desk of the inpatient ward. Signing what he assumed were your discharge papers. You noticed him, eyes lighting up immediately.
Jungkook placed his calloused palm against your cheek. Your eyes were so fucking beautiful it stung him just to look at you.
“You’re okay” He breathed, reassuring himself more than anything. His voice trembled softly into a chuckle as you nodded, covering his palm with your own.
“Yeah, I’m okay” His lips neared yours, not touching, but enough for you to feel his breath scrape against your nerves.
He took your hand in his, and led you out of the hospital to his car. It was a short drive to his apartment. It occurred to him that you’d likely never stepped foot on this side of the city. The streets were narrow. Crippling houses dotted his peripheral—a faint scent of smoke through his windows.
He parked on the edge of the street, in front of an average-sized apartment complex.
“The Jeon Manor” He joked lightly.
You pouted, grabbing his hand. Fingers lacing with his.
“You know I don’t care that you’re not rich”
Jungkook wanted to scoff. But he held it back. If only you knew. If only you realized what could have been his, if it hadn’t been for—
“I don’t care where we are, I just want to be with you”
You brought his hand to your lips.
“Stop” He exhaled.
“W-what?”
“Stop saying shit like that when you won’t fucking commit”
You gulped. His stare was intense as he pulled his hand away from you, running in through his dark curls.
“Jungkook” You reached for his shirt, tugging the fabric towards you but Jungkook’s jaw hardened. He turned away. “Jungkook I’m serious”
“You won’t leave Nexus for me, you told me that. You won’t fight for me”
You tugged harder. He grabbed your wrist, harsher than he meant to. Glaring at you.
You didn’t understand. Jungkook should have known. Why would you? This was personal for you. Running Nexus was a point you had to prove, he understood that. But it was the very thing he needed you to give up. If not, then you’d never forgive him for what was coming.
“I love you”
Jungkook’s eyes clenched shut, almost out of regret. He felt tears but pushed them down.
“No.” He shook his head. Shit. He had let this go too far.
For as much as he’d wanted to hear it, it was a wake up call. The two of you couldn’t be together.
“You can’t”
Then he kissed you. His heart was erratic, breathing too. A desperate kiss, fierce with need. Your body fell limp, melting into his touch. Falling into him because he was everything and all you needed.
-
Somehow, he brought you to his apartment. Kicking the door closed.
He lifted you onto the counter, not letting you breathe—not letting you think, but fighting a sweet war with your lips. You were spinning. Losing yourself every passing second—seconds which passed so slowly as the moment consumed you.
His hands which rested on the sides of your hips, crawled beneath the hem of your shirt. Delicately they explored your skin, rising to the curves of your chest. Caressing your breast, he deepened the kiss, tongue pushing past yours, tangling together.
“Jungkook” You whimpered. His mouth slanting down your jaw, to your neck. Where he tasted your sweet skin and you arched into him. His fingers drawing across your nipples with intention, causing fire to pulse through you.
You could feel him pressed against you, hips locked. Rocking ever so slightly.
Your phone began to vibrate. Jungkook hissed in irritation, backing away as you answered the call.
“Y/n”
Your blood ran cold.
That voice.
“Run”
You could see Jungkook’s eyes narrow at you. The line went dead. You were too stunned to speak.
“Who was it?” Jungkook inquired, looking at your phone. Gulping, you shook your head.
“I-um—just remembered that I need to take care of something”
His fingers hovered over your waist. “Okay, I can drive you” You stiffened as he kissed your neck again. “Or we could go after 20 minutes” His voice was husky.
Run.
Jungkook’s lips dipped to your chest, pushing the hem of your t-shirt up. Leaving pronounced kisses on every inch of skin he could find.
Run. Run. Run. Run.
You squinted behind him. There was an old family photograph hanging on the wall.
Two young boys. A father.
Their suits. Well-tailored. Designer.
Your breath hitched, Jungkook’s fingers slid across your slit.
“I love you baby” He mumbled as his lips returned to yours. “So fucking much, I almost hate you for it”
Two boys. A father.
Two.
“You’re an only child, right?”
Jungkook’s actions halted.
“Yeah,” He wiped his lips, “My mom died when I was young.”
“Any, other relatives…?” You slid off the counter carefully, pieces in your mind beginning to fit together.
Jungkook’s face hardened. Jaw stiff.
“Did Jimin say some bullshit to you?”
Oh God. Jimin had been hinting at some connection between Jin and Jungkook all along. You thought it had been a joke. A way to toy with Jungkook’s head.
That day. After you fucked Jungkook for the first time. Jin saw him. Jin knew him.
What if Jimin had been right? What if he had been the only one who was truly looking out for you all along?
“Did you kill Jimin?” The question had no sound. The air was still. The two of you, frozen in time.
“Come on, Y/n.” Jungkook sighed, “Jimin got what he deserved, but no I did not. He hurt you. He’s insane”
You flinched when he reached for your wrist.
He knew you figured it out.
You stepped outside the apartment. Running down the steps until you were back on the street. Outside Yoongi stood, leaning against the stone wall across the street as though he were expecting you.
“You knew” Was all you said.
Yoongi sighed, “I knew about Jungkook, but I needed to make sure if my hunch about Jin was true.”
You laughed bitterly. “That’s why my mother hated Jin. Because,” You couldn’t even say it. It made you want to vomit.
“Jin is a Jeon”
You blinked back tears. “But, why would he kill his own father?”
“Unless, he didn’t”
“Oh my God. You think…” You exhaled, feeling weak again. Yoongi held you upright. “Taehyung?”
He shrugged lightly, “It’s possible. More believable that a mother sends away the son who killed her lover than a son who simply witnessed something”
You were silent.
“You need to be careful” He made his voice as soft and kind as he possibly could. “I know about Hobi, but I’m honestly more suspicious of Jungkook.”
You nodded. The sun seemed to peak out from the horizon. A new day. A new betrayal.
Then the sound of the voice on the phone hit you. Run. So familiar. Like a ghost.
“Yoongi?”
“Yeah love?”
“Did you call my phone earlier?”
He shook his head. “No…why?”
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“You’re back early” Taehyung answered the door, “Figured you’d spend the whole night with the Detective” His bland tone seemed to have been revived. You were too bewildered to care. You pushed past him, Yoongi following behind. Taehyung greeted him nicely. “Hyung”
You slumped into the couch immediately. Hand on your forehead as if it would ease the pounding.
Yoongi watched you, concerned. Taehyung looked to him for an explanation.
“So listen,” Yoongi cleared his throat. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now, but we still need to stay focused on pushing Hoseok out. The shareholders will be at the casino this evening for the anniversary gala”
“Yoongi” You laughed bitterly, “I don’t want to—”
“Y/n,” He responded, adamant, “This is what it’s like. You can’t hide just because shit’s hard. You’re not Jin’s princess anymore, you have responsibilities if you want back what’s yours. Taehyung isn’t ready to handle society on his own. He needs you”
A tear rolled down your cheek.
“Get some sleep” Yoongi rested his hand on your shoulder, caressing it gently. “It’s 7 AM, you’ve got plenty of time to get yourself together” His gaze diverted to Taehyung. “Black tie formal. I’ll send a suit for you. Make sure this one starts getting dressed at least 3 hours before we leave—she takes forever”
You let out a sad laugh, knowing Yoongi was trying to cheer you up but failing epically when all you had was a broken heart and impending doom.
Yoongi left, but Taehyung remained standing in front of you. A safe distance away, he simply observed you.
“You can sit you know” You grumbled.
He didn’t react. Didn’t move an inch.
“What’s wrong?” He inquired after a moment.
“Nothing,” You chuckled, “Just another missed opportunity for you to be the cause of my misery.”
“Was it,” Taehyung took a deep breath. Pausing, considering his next words carefully, “Was it him? Did the Detective hurt you?”
His eyes seemed to flash with something you couldn’t quite read.
“No” You stood up finally, “No the Detective is just another lying, manipulative asshole like the rest of you”
You walked past him, heading towards the foyer.
“I thought you loved him”
You whirled around. How he had managed to pick that up, you had no idea.
“I’ve decided I’m done with love” You stated confidently, “I end up falling for liars anyway”
You proceeded to storm up the stairs.
You were woken up by the sound of soft footsteps. Squinting, the evening sun blaring into your room, you noticed Taehyung pacing nervously outside of your room.
He was dressed.
Yoongi must have come by with the suit. It fit him perfectly. His dark hair was styled, tousled but neater than usual. His shoulders were prominent. The tailoring was perfect for his lean figure, and long legs. A gold watch on his wrist. It looked natural. He wore it so well.
Just like his brother.
Run.
“You’re awake” Finally, Taehyung stepped inside your room.
“Get dressed” He motioned towards a dry-cleaning bag that lay on your desk.
“Taehyung,” You sat upright, wiping the drool from your lips, “You look very handsome”
He blinked at you. Then walked away.
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If you had any lingering doubt in your mind that the man by your side was in fact, Kim Taehyung—they were utterly dismissed. His Kim colors were shining. Despite his typical cold nature to you, Taehyung was the embodiment of charm.
Stepping into the casino, he had been initially overwhelmed by the stimulus: the lights, the slot machining whirring with bright colors, the crowd. You could feel him visibly tense even though he remained an appropriate distance away from you at all times. Close enough that folks knew you’d come together. Far enough to show you that he hadn’t forgotten about what happened.
The first few people who’d approached you had been friends of his mothers. You knew everyone well, everyone knew you. Taehyung would be quiet, shy at first, but it was that very aspect of his personality that made him alluring. He knew exactly what to say. His observant nature allowed him to navigate the different dynamics, pick up on cues expertly.
The elders respected his aura. The young were entranced by his mystery.
Every person he talked to was ready to trust him with their life. And if that wasn’t a Kim trait, you weren’t sure what was.
The only hiccups would arise when folks would bring up the past.
“Aren’t you two getting engaged?” Mr. Lee, one of Kim Enterprises’ stakeholders, asked politely, “So tragic what happened to dear Seokjin. But have you rescheduled?”
With speedy hesitation, Taehyung slid a hand onto the small of your back, looking into your eyes. There was a genuine passing of emotion, ever so subtle. He spoke, to Mr. Lee, but really—to you.
“In time” He smiled slightly. Looking back to Mr. Lee, “We are still mourning, in our own way”
“I’m sure Jin would be so proud of you”
You felt Taehyung tense at the implication. He maintained his composure, nevertheless, but you could see the turmoil stirring within him. Mr. Lee excused himself, and you turned to Taehyung, searching his eyes.
The mere mention of Jin had been pushing him closer and closer to the edge all night.
“Tae” You sighed, caressing his arm. “Want to take a break?”
“Please” His response was curt, but you could see his other hand balled up in a fist. Jin’s name had such a radial effect on him—one that reminded you that despite his ability to play the social field, he was dangerous.
Taehyung followed you to the backrooms where a younger crowd was immersed in pool, poker, and other debauchery.
“They loved you”
Taehyung merely shrugged. “Play the man, not the game” His eyes ghosted over you, “You taught me that”
You snorted lightly, as you found a quieter spot away from the buzz, Taehyung leaned against a wall, looking at ease.
“Taehyung, do remember how to play pool?” You asked suddenly as the billiard table came into your vision.
Taehyung thought for a moment. “Not really. But I’ll learn”
“Winner makes a wish, loser fulfills it” You challenged him. You really couldn’t help yourself. Being in the casino made you crave risk. But Taehyung wasn’t ready for high stakes, you knew that.
“Fine”
You start off expertly. Taehyung handed you the pool cue, the smooth wood cool against your fingertips.
"Alright, let me show you the basics," you said, positioning yourself near the table with a practiced ease.
He watched intently, his eyes following the calculated movements of your hands as you lined up a shot.
You demonstrated the proper stance, the controlled grip, and the delicate finesse required to send a ball into the pocket. With each shot, you explained the strategy, the physics of the angles, and the importance of precision.
You hit the shot expertly. With a smirk, you put down the pool cue and motioned for Taehyung to take your place.
"Your turn, Tae."
He eyed you skeptically but took the cue, positioning himself for the shot. You stepped behind him, your hand gently guiding his.
You’d never been so close to him. Not since the day you reunited, and he hugged you. And asked: are you scared of me, Princess?
Ever since then, there were oceans between you that you could only dream of crossing. He smelled good, you couldn’t help breathing in his fresh aura. The dimly lit room seemed to fade away just for a moment, and you wondered if he was effected like you were.
"Now, focus," you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear, though you maintained a level of indifference in your tone.
Taehyung's breath hitched imperceptibly, but he composed himself, focusing on the game. With your guidance, he took the shot, sinking the ball into the pocket expertly.
"Perfect," you praised, the ghost of a smile on your lips. "See, you’re a natural yet again. A true Kim”
Taehyung turned to face you, his gaze intense. "Anything I am is because of you”
You stiffened. His words were both a compliment and an accusation. God, seeing this side of him made him even more terrifying, because you didn’t trust yourself not to buy into the fact that he was some pure, innocent version of his older brother. He wasn’t. Kim Taehyung was unhinged. Any second he could snap, and you were on eggshells.
“Your turn” He handed back the cue. A few shots later, the two of you were neck and neck. The ocean between you two drying up slowly with every exchange of banter.
“Done with love, huh?”
You circled him as he lined up his next shot.
“What exactly did the Detective do to make you say something like that?”
You pursed your lips. “Why, gonna go beat him up?”
With a flick of his shoulder, the ball went in. Taehyung stood straight. “Maybe. What’d he do?”
He leaned against the table, handing you the cue as you positioned yourself. “He lied. He betrayed me. And I’m tired of loving liars”
“Didn’t you also lie to him?” He challenged. You shot him a glare. “Why haven’t you told him everything?”
You hit your mark. You missed. Taehyung’s blatant honesty was always unnerving. He wasn’t one to play games. “It’s complicated. I didn’t trust him. I still don’t trust him”
“And you expected him to trust you” Taehyung shrugged blandly. He stole the cue from your hand and before you could blink, he snapped the final shot. “Seems fair”
Taehyung’s last ball went in.
He beat you.
“Well” Taehyung huffed, trying to hide his gleaming pleasure. You almost wanted to roll your eyes. “I suppose that’s that” He looked at you expectantly.
“Okay Kim Taehyung, what wish can I grant you?” Cue in hand, you pretended to curtsy. Taehyung grabbed the end of the stick, using it to tug you towards him.
The space between you vanished. Only the cue between you, until Taehyung pulled it from your grip and set it aside.
There was something unrecognizable in his eyes. He licked his lips unconsciously.
“Well?” You looked up at him, suddenly aware of his height.
His fingers held your chin, tilting your face upward. Except his touch wasn’t harsh. Wasn’t painful.
Taehyung inhaled.
Your eyes widened as he closed his mouth over yours. His eyes shut—kissing you with a depraved delicateness. As if he was drinking your soul like he was the devil himself.
A touch so tender, and yet it seemed to steal away every last bit of purity within you, leaving behind a raging storm. Activating something so sinful—so wicked. All due to the decadent taste of his delicate lips.
He pushed your mouth open, deepening the kiss. And you—you were lost. Still utterly shocked that—Kim Taehyung was kissing you. The Kim Taehyung that wanted you dead. The Kim Taehyung who blamed you for everything—was actually kissing you.
It wasn’t like you’d never thought about it. The two of you no longer had to get engaged, but you lived with the man. And he was gorgeous. His quiet, mesmerizing charm. Enigmatic, smoldering and yet so calm. Who knew beneath that cold demeanor there was a tsunami waiting to be unleashed? 
He didn’t give you an opportunity to question him. His lips felt too good on yours for you to care. The casino around you seemed to vortex—everything spinning: the colorful lights—until you were airborne.
Floating. Dizzy. Afraid to fall but so fucking glad you were in the sky.
His mouth coaxed out your fierceness until you began to feel impatient. You placed your hand on his pounding chest, a light push until he sat down on the bench. You slid into his lap, no longer thinking—no longer caring that you were in public. That there was a room full of people in the casino who could be staring. Taking pictures. Gossiping.
They were all dead for all you cared.
You gasped audibly, a soft moan as he pulled you impossibly closer. You were losing your breath. On the verge of fainting—overwhelmed with sensations. Everything was heightened—everything felt alive.
His hand was behind your neck, the other one on the small of your back. Both yours in his wavy black—cloud like hair.
He pulled away, finally—barely. Catching his breath. His chest rising as fast as yours, offset by his erratic heartbeat. He was nervous.
Was that his first kiss?
He swallowed, uncomfortably on edge. His eyes were dark with desire. An angry kind of lust.
You searched your mind for words. Something to tell him that he did so good. That you loved it—and you wanted more. He was searching your gaze for something, but you were speechless.
So you kissed him again. Because how the hell else are you supposed to communicate.
“Taehyung” Your hands moved to cup his cheeks. You shifted, letting your body roll against his. Grinding against him slow and sensual, letting your movements mimic those of your lips. He was hard—painstakingly so. And he felt so good tucked between your legs. Throbbing for you. Both his hands lowered to your hips, then back up your back as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch you—or maybe he couldn’t believe you were real.
His hold was strong—not rough. Touch intentional but not desperate. He took his time with you as if he had all the time in the world, but was still somehow starved. Drinking from you was his only salvation. You—you were his salvation. And he was your ruin.
He pushed you away, suddenly. You blinked, dizzy from the loss of touch. Sensitive and damp, heart throbbing fast. He didn’t meet your gaze.
“Fuck”
You could see the judgmental stares all around. Rolling your jaw you smirked at the crowd.
“We own this place. I’d mind your business”
The chatter dissipated. You redirected your attention back onto Taehyung.
“Taehyung?” Your voice was soft. “You okay?”
You noticed how tightly he was gripping the table. His head down, looking anywhere but up at you. Eyes wide, spiraling in thought.
“I—” He exhaled, closing his eyes again.
Was he--?
You couldn’t help yourself. You knew he’d despise you for it—but Kim Taehyung already despised you. You weren’t going to pass up a chance to feel him cum.
You shifted his chair so he was facing away from prying eyes. Carefully you snuck under the pool table, clawing at his pants.
His fingers pulled your hand away. A warning glare.
You yanked your hand away, unzipping his pants and letting his pretty cock spring free.
You clicked your tongue. Poor thing was ready to burst.
Licking your lips, you let your tongue glide from his base all the way up his length where you left a soft, sweet kiss on his tip. You slid his tip into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked.
Flattening your tongue, you let his cock rest there. Like a dog, you waited for him to cum all over you.
Then you looked up at him.
His eyes locked onto yours—and they were wild.
He hissed, shooting into your mouth. You drank up everything he had to give—and it was quite a bit. He bucked over, knuckles turning white. The bite into his lip released blood with how hard he was trying to stay quiet. You let him push his cock into the hollow of your cheek and spurts continued to flow out of him. You rested your hand on his knee, and his hand covered yours. Holding it tenderly—as if he were thanking you.
You cleaned him up quickly, before returning to your seat, adjusting your dress inconspicuously.
You grinned at him, but he was not amused at all. Still panting.
“Was that your wish?” You beamed at him. He chuckled softly.
“I just wanted to know what it felt like”
It was an innocent intention. Almost heartwarming.
“And, what do you think?” You leaned into him, “Did I rock your world, Kim Taehyung?”
“You are my world. There was never a doubt”
His eyes glossed over. You wanted to melt in his gaze. Unravel. Instead, you were plunged into cold water.
“Fancy seeing you two here”
The hairs on your body straightened. Chills seeping over you at the familiar voice, laced with betrayal.
“Jung Hoseok” He extended a hand to Taehyung, “Pleasure’s all mine baby boy” Taehyung skeptically shook it.
-
Hobi was extremely amused at what he had walked in on. Of course, a whore like you would take a matter of days to wrap the young Kim boy around your finger.
“Nice job leashing the puppy” He muttered, cigarette at the edge of his lips. The smoke wisping past your unamused expression.
“I should kill you” Hobi grinned at your response.
“No need,” He tapped the cigarette ash on the edge of the ash tray. He had brough you to his private booth. Leaving Taehyung for the wolves.
“What do you want, Hobi? I don’t want to leave Taehyung alone too long”
“Why?” He leaned closer to you. His hand resting on your bare thigh. Your dress was so fucking slutty, he loved it. He always loved the way you’d dress to gamble. As if your body gave you an edge—it did. He knew you crumbled rich playboy’s resolve with one bat of your pretty eyes. “Are you so desperate for dick you’d take your lover’s little brother’s virginity?”
You rolled your eyes. “I asked you a fucking question,”
“A birdy told me that you found out about Jin’s daddy”
You squinted at him. “What about it?”
“Don’t you want to know the whole story?” Hobi’s fingers hooked under the straps of your dress, playing with them. “Of the infamous Jeon family? And your mother—the woman who tore down a legacy”
His hand slid between your legs.
“Long long ago, the entire arms distribution business lay in the hands of one famous Korean gangster. Jeon Junghyun.”
He brushed against your clit. Gentle circles while he gazed into your eyes. A wicked grin. Like he could kiss you or stab you in the back.
You latched onto his arm as he lured you towards an orgasm. His face burying against your neck, breathing you in as he continued to touch you. Nothing except your soft whimpers in the air.
The heat from his body infected your every nerve. His breath scalding over your cheek.
“Then there was this clever little bitch” You inhaled sharply, edging forward towards your high. He could tell—because he pressed a little harder.
“Who manipulated her way to the top. Gained favor of everyone under him and took him out with a stab to the back” His hands roamed your body, sliding up your dress. He pushed the fabric up until it bunched up above your breasts which he grabbed at eagerly.
Thumbs rolling over your nipples, he continued “She took everything from him, leaving him and his two sons to rot. But she wasn’t cruel. She let him stay as her right-hand”
Hobi left a soft kiss against your left breast. Then another. And another. His thumb back onto your clit, he licked and suckled you. You gasped—looking at him with big, pleading eyes. Curving into his touch.
“She grew the business. An arms distribution pipeline can be used for a lot of things. She went legit. Bought out other companies with the blood money. Began distributing just about everything.”
He licked your lips. The sensation like that of slowly sinking into absolute, soft bliss. Licking down your jaw, fluttering desperate hisses across your neck.
Then, he slipped one finger in—your face heating at the sound. You clenched around the protrusion and he reached deep inside. Working you slowly, carefully—before adding in another.
His kisses trailed back up to your mouth. His breaths were heavy, swallowing your moans. It was hauntingly intimate.
“Hobi” You pleaded, gripping onto him as you shook. Orgasm sweeping over you like an earthquake. Tremors from your heart to every finger and toe in your body. He was so wildly aroused that he couldn’t look away. His fingers were steady nevertheless, pumping you through it. “Fuck, Hobi please”
“Jeon Jungkook wants you dead sweetheart” The pain from his words pushed you over the edge. You soaked over his fingers, twitching wildly. “And so did his hyung. Kim Seokjin.”
-
The brisk night air bit at your skin as you seized Taehyung's wrist, pulling him outside. People were chattering, smoking cigars, the lights from the casinos madness still polluting the air. Limousines, sleek and imposing, formed a line ready to usher the remaining guests to their destinations.
Waving down a driver, you led Taehyung inside one. The plush leather seats cool against your exposed legs. The interior lit so you could see him in front of you, clear as day.
The light shut. Instead there were light sparkles on the ceiling of the limo as it began to move. The champagne swirled in your mind as you leaned back, looking out the window. The city lights blurred past the tinted windows. Like a rush, you wanted to lose yourself.
Your eyes shut for a moment. Remembering the way the light danced on your fac when you were with Jungkook that night at the club. Yearning for his touch, the look in his eyes when he told you how he felt.
You swallowed thickly, heart in too much pain to go down that road. You looked at Taehyung next to you, instinctively reaching out to touch his face. Gently, you took hold of his chin, coaxing his gaze to meet yours.
Your thumb traced over his cheek. Fingers dancing over his soft, delicate skin. His eyes fluttered close as you did. Teasing the edge of his lips ever so lightly. He really was a beautiful man. His lips looked soft. Devastating, with the way his shaken breath made them tremble.
He leaned into your touch, your fingers sliding up over his ear, pushing his hair out of his face. It felt like you were getting kicked in the chest repeatedly. Every part of you feeling numb but simultaneously sensitive to even the slightest movement of air.
He exhaled. The flow of his breath wavering. Or was it a moan, you weren’t sure.
You were about to pull your hand away, until Taehyung’s over fingers gripped your wrist. He stared at you, pupils wide. It was these moments where you felt like you could see him. His soft, vulnerable side, behind those concrete walls.
To your surprise, he brought your hand up to his face, kissing the inside of your wrist.
His lips softly melted into the sensitive area. Your breath hitched.
It was furiously intimate.
Holding your hand still, his eyes blinked back up at you. Almost as though he were asking permission.
Your throat was dry. The alcohol loosening the knots on your sense of logic.  
His eyes traced over you, dipping down your entire body. The way he sat, leaning so his knees almost touched yours. The leather suddenly felt so hot against your skin. Under his flaming stare.
He inhaled, steady, before leaning into you. Tracing his nose behind your ear. You shivered. His touch making you dizzy. Needy. Quivering.
“You looked beautiful tonight”
They were plain words.
When he said them, they meant the world. Something bloomed inside you. You were spinning and breathless, mouth parting in shock. His lips barely grazing under your jaw.
He backed away, putting distance between you yet again.
-
Namjoon stood in the foyer, waiting for you to come home. The moment the door swung open, you darted into his embrace. It felt like a familiar haven, and he effortlessly hoisted you up, cradling you in a desperate hug, afraid you might vanish if he let go.
"I missed you," Namjoon murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek before reluctantly releasing you. His gaze then shifted to Taehyung, pride in his voice. "You too. You look great, Taehyung. I heard you went to the casino."
Taehyung's response was measured. "Are you out on bail?"
"No," Namjoon replied with a hint of bitterness, "Yoongi blackmailed Jungkook into letting me go."
Your heart tightened at his name.
"Where is he? I want to see him”
“Absolutely not” Namjoon was firm. “We don’t know how dangerous he is. I have some of my guys looking into it with Yoongi. He sure as hell had been in contact with Jin in the weeks leading up to his murder”
Namjoon cupped your face. “But other than that, it’s over. He won’t contact you. You’re free. I don’t want you worrying about this anymore”
You wanted to laugh at the term. Free. Especially since Namjoon was already back to telling you what you could and couldn’t do.
“What about Nexus?”
Namjoon smiled, taking your hand in his. “Come with me,”
You followed him. Taehyung a few paces behind. Namjoon brought you into the garden. There were a million fireflies. Out of the corner of your eye, you glanced at Taehyung, wondering if he remembered your tender moment in this same spot.
Namjoon lowered onto one knee.
Fuck. It was one of those moments where everything was so still. So quiet yet extremely loud in your chest. He smiled. Eyes meeting yours. Brimming.
“Marry me”
Your mouth was dry. The moisture building in your eyes instead. It hurt, deep inside because your mind took you to a certain tattooed, mean and yet tender man who you had left behind.
“Let me give you everything, Y/n” Namjoon continued, “The papers. The stocks. The business. You deserve it all and I will give it to you. I’ve done you wrong, and I know you aren’t where I am. I know you loved someone else”
His proposal hung in the luminous space. His words echoed in your ears. His gaze held both sincerity and vulnerability. He waited for your response, standing up so his fingers could brush against the side of your face. The fireflies flickered like stars behind him.
“I hope someday, it can be more than an arrangement. Someday you might love me the way I love you. But for now, I wanted you to have the option. I will give you everything, I promise”
Tears blurred your vision, and you took a steadying breath. "Namjoon," you whispered, your voice fragile yet resolute. Suddenly, with the prize standing in front of you, waiting for your claim, you realized how serious your answer was. If you married Namjoon, you were signing a deal with the devil. There would be no going back.
"I need time."
His eyes reflected understanding, and he stood, pulling you into a tender embrace. "Take all the time you need," he murmured against your hair.
You could still feel Taehyung watching the scene unfold. His expression unreadable, he retreated into the shadows.
Namjoon walked you to your bedroom, and you kissed him goodnight. He urged you not to stress. To take all the time and he’d be there, waiting when you were ready. No rush. This is what you’d wanted.
So why was it so hard to say yes?
Jungkook’s face engraved into your mind. Your gut flipping. You needed to find him. Needed to talk to him without Namjoon finding out. Your phone began to buzz. Hope coursed through you. Maybe it was him.
You answered quickly, excited.
“Don’t marry him”
There was no way.
“You’re mine”
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a/n: its been a fucking MINUTE. idek how to do thia anymore, please enjoy and let me know what you think !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TAEHYUNG omfg come scream with me pls thanks
and thank you for reading you hawtie <3
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azrielbrainrot · 6 months
Text
I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 5
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Description: It's time to find your handler and make him answer for what he's done to you.
Warnings: Violence, Torture, Gore (nothing too graphic)
Word Count: 4715
Notes: This took a while to write, I'm sorry about that but life has been kicking my ass. I really hope it makes enough sense because I've found I'm not very good at writing action scenes (but that's also not the main focus). Hope you enjoy!
Part 4 ○ Part 6
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The moon was high in the sky, its pale light guiding your way through the forest. The air was strangely quiet, the leaves crunching beneath your feet were the only thing that could be heard between the trees. Even the wind was serene and no animal dared make a sound, as if sensing what was to come. The atmosphere allowed you to keep your composure, any incoming threats would be easier to detect like this. Unfortunately, so would your allies.
It's funny how so much can change in a matter of days. Before, when you were only a relatively low ranking member of the guild, walking through the dark woods as you are doing now would simply be the norm, whether you were on a mission or not, but, after everything you learned, not having Azriel and his shadows near you makes you feel off-kilter, like you can't protect him if he stands too far from you.
If it weren't for the millions of problems that keep piling on, you'd probably sit on this feeling, dissecting it until you realize how peculiar it actually is for you to feel so achingly connected to the shadowsinger who, even if had been your husband during a time of your life you've now forgotten, was essentially a stranger to you now. You've only really known him for about two weeks, not nearly enough time to be feeling like a part of you is missing.
You weren't used to worrying about anyone else at times like these. Even when your missions weren't solo, you didn't actually know your coworkers, much less cared if they survived or not. But now, you can't stop thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, of how Azriel and his family could get hurt because of you. You stayed up thinking about this all night, if this would all be truly worth it just to get your memories back, but had decided that you wanted to know what happened, no matter the cost, and knew that, as much as the Inner Circle was helping you recover your memories, not all their motives were altruistic. They all wanted revenge as much as you did.
All of you had planned this out meticulously, going down to every last detail and considering every possible outcome. Everyone was also extra careful on how to approach using you as bait. You expected it from Azriel - he's been protective of you ever since you stepped foot into his High Lord's home - but seeing the rest of them so worried about you made you want to recover your memories that much more. You want to remember these people, want to know how they all, especially Azriel, came to care for you, so much so that even death didn't stop those feelings.
There had been other plans brought up, ones that didn't involve putting you in such a risky situation, but it was soon decided that the only way to get to Norris would be to show up alone. If he so much as caught a glimpse of anyone else, you know he would simply run and if he truly put his guard up and went into hiding, finding him would be nearly impossible even with Azriel's spies and shadows at his disposal, he hadn't found you after all.
The tree you were looking for comes into view as you get lost in your thoughts, the magic traces left behind on its bark unmistakably familiar. The guild has used this system for as long as you've been a part of it. Every important meeting with your handler had taken place next to any object or area marked with this exact faint magic, enough for the attuned eye to pick up on but not so strong that anyone else might come across them and meddle where they're not welcomed.
You don't have to wait by the marked tree for long before an imposing figure appears beside you. He had probably been watching you for as long as you've winnowed into the edge of the treeline, keeping his eyes on you as you walked to the meeting place. The air shifts, the wind picking up slightly as if sensing the tension threatening to form in your body.
Turning around as casually as possible, you face your former handler, the male you thought had saved your life but you've now learned did quite the opposite. Not that there had been any particularly fond feelings between you and him, but it still hurts to know how easily the male manipulated you and turned your entire life around with no remorse.
He was mostly covered with a black hood, only a bit of his face being visible through the shadow it cast, enough to meet his eyes. You've only seen him without it a few times, you know that dark brown hair lays under the hood and a few scars adorn his face. Truthfully, you're not even sure if this isn't some intricate glamour. Nothing that comes from this male should be trusted.
His form gives nothing away, no nerves or suspicions, but his brown eyes rake over your body, searching for something. Since he thinks you've just crawled out of a cell or worse, he's probably looking for any signs of injury, or that you've betrayed him and the guild. It's best you don't let him find anything that tells him otherwise.
“Norris,” you greet him as you would any other time, nodding once at him with a passive expression.
He crosses his arms and meets your eyes when he hears your voice. His eyes dart over the forest around you as if he knew Azriel would be lurking in the shadows. His self assured expression doesn't help with your nerves. Norris always seems like he's three steps ahead, and more often than not he was actually four.
“I didn't think I'd see you again,” he finally speaks up.
“I thought so too.”
Norris hums in response. You're not sure if he believes you or not, but short and distant answers are the norm for him. Either way, you need to stick to the plan, there's no turning back now. “How did you escape the Night Court?”
“They thought I was someone else, someone they used to know,” you start, trying to convey some of the confusion you'd experienced the first time they told you who you were. He knows you well enough to expect you to have some trouble maintaining the same level of apathy he so easily displays, he'd warned you multiple times to act more like an assassin and not let your emotions get the best of you. “It eventually led to a fight between the High Lord and his Spymaster. They couldn't agree on what to do with me from what I heard. I managed to escape in the chaos.”
You stop for a second, licking your lips. You decided not to completely lie to him so it would be more believable, this version of events could have come true had you not trusted Azriel, had your feelings not been so suffocating and confusing.
“I waited for a while before contacting you, to make sure they didn't come looking for me,” you continue eventually, the fact that he isn't asking more questions makes your heart pick up ever so slightly.
He turns his head to the side, a faint smirk playing at his lips. You resist the urge to clench your sweaty palms, not wanting to let him see through you. “Who did they think you were?”
“The Spymaster's former wife,” you admitted, hoping you sounded as detached as possible.
“And what do you think about it?”
“What?”
“Do you believe them?” You didn't expect him to ask you outright. It would make more sense for him to try to cover it up, stopping any doubts you might have had before they grew.
“Of course not. I've never been married,” the lie tastes wrong on your tongue but you make sure not to let any of it translate into your body language or your voice. Which is why you're so caught off guard by his next words. “I think you're lying to me.”
Norris turns you around and grabs you to him before you have a chance to react, pulling you flush against his chest and pressing a dagger to your neck, power rumbling under his skin, raising the hairs on the back of your neck at its intensity. This isn't that surprising to you since you were more than aware of how much faster and stronger he was, and that tricking him would be extremely hard, but this means you need to move to plan B. And you were really hoping you could avoid a direct conflict like this.
Azriel is the first one to show himself, emerging from the shadows with deadly calm, hazel eyes never straying from Norris as his hand hovers Truth Teller. As much as you try to keep calm and not give anything away, you know Norris can feel you tense up and hear your heartbeat picking up when you see the shadowsinger walking straight into danger.
You feel another presence behind you, Morrigan, followed by Cassian and Amren on each side. The sisters had stayed behind, despite their many protests. In case anything happened, Velaris needed its High Lady and the Valkyries at least. You also know this is a personal matter for the fae present, you had been their friend and been ripped away from their lives by the male currently holding you at knife point, threatening to end your life once again, for good this time.
They all start walking slowly to you, effectively forming a circle around the two of you, getting ready to attack if Norris hurts you or tries to run. He appeared as calm as if he had just been caught on a night stroll, his heartbeat never rising in tempo against your back even under Azriel's chilling stare. He had been expecting your betrayal, and had been ready for them.
You could feel the fury in the air, could see it written in Azriel's eyes as he studied every single one of Norris' movements. You had been worried that he wouldn't be able to keep his composure since he was against this plan from the start, in fear of this exact situation coming true. But he seemed completely focused, not even risking looking at you too long in case he'd get distracted. This made you relax ever so slightly. You'd planned out for this situation and even if you ended up hurt or worse, you know Azriel won't let Norris go unharmed. You would get your revenge one way or another, you just hoped you could spare the male in front of you any more pain.
Rhysand winnows in next to Azriel moments later, darkness clinging to him as he takes a few steps closer to you nonchalantly. Talons scratching your mental walls before checking in on you. All according to plan.
“I would say it's a pleasure to meet you but even I can't spin a lie so effortlessly,” he starts, arrogance dripping in every word. You'd never admit it, much less to him, but Rhysand was every bit the perfect High Lord, especially at times like these. It showed in the way he carried himself down to the seemingly bottomless pit of power at his disposal. No matter how strong Norris is, anyone with even a little of self preservation would think twice on how to handle him.
“I came prepared for your little tricks, High Lord.”
You frown at his words, confusion settling over you before you realize what it meant. Rhysand must have tried getting inside his mind as soon as he appeared. Norris had expected him to, had put up walls to ensure it didn't happen. This would only make things harder.
“Skipping pleasantries, are we?” Rhysand's face gives nothing away, but as he drops said pleasantries, it gives way to some of the anger bubbling under the surface, the next words coming out in a serious tone. “You're not walking out of here, Norris.”
“I wouldn't be so sure,” Norris says as he leans in closer to your ear, voice dropping to a whisper, “Did you think I would come on my own?”
A sinking feeling grows in your stomach as you watch dark figures manifesting all around you, far outnumbering your group. You recognize some of them, know their clothes and masks mean they're assassins from the guild.
A fight breaks out right before your eyes, causing you to struggle desperately for the first time in Norris' arms. He tries to keep you in place by letting the blade touch your skin as a warning, a few drops of blood escaping the small wound. You know he could easily kill you, but you're also aware that if he did the chances of him escaping would drop to zero. That's the only reason you're still breathing, so he can use you as a shield.
Your eyes were following Azriel's shadow covered form as he fought against multiple attackers, the feeling of helplessness rising with each clank of his sword. You can't stand there and wait any longer, so you grab the blade still positioned dangerously close to your throat and wrap your fingers around it tightly so it cuts your hand instead of your neck while swinging your elbow back to try to push off of Norris. Just as you expected, you weren't strong enough and he pulled the knife back from your grasp, intending to stab your stomach to stop you, but you had a new trick up your sleeve.
Azriel's shadows had moved to you as soon as Norris grabbed you, crawling up your legs discreetly in the dark of night, where they stayed waiting for your signal. And, as they tasted your blood in the air, they engulfed Norris, giving you enough room to push back and to elbow him a few more times, also letting off some of your power and finally being able to release yourself from his hold.
The shadows aren't enough to keep him away from you for long, the lack of visibility barely slowing him down as he attacks you before you even have the chance to take a breath. Luckily, your little helpers' singer rushes in, getting between you and deflecting Norris' strike. He hands you a sword so you can fight back with him and pushes back against Norris without wasting a single moment.
The three of you enter a match, barely being able to pay attention to what's happening around you, though you can tell everyone is in the same predicament. Even between you and Azriel, keeping up with Norris proves difficult, he's not only an exceedingly proficient fighter but he's also familiar with your attacks and style, making it easier for him to avoid your attacks and focus more on Azriel's.
The fight goes on for longer than you'd like. Even with your and Azriel's joint efforts, you had barely managed to wound Norris. The bastard was too strong and experienced, he was one of the guild's oldest assassins for a reason.
Suddenly the sickening scent of blood reaches your nostrils, in a concentration you haven't experienced before. It makes you falter in your movements, but luckily it has the same effect on Norris, leaving him open to Azriel's attacks, who seems undisturbed by it. You risk a glance behind you, but all you can see is the rest of the Inner Circle watching the battle, while the ground and their bodies, even the trees around them, are covered in blood. You're not exactly sure what happened, what they did to completely obliterate the assassins to a point not even their bodies were left, but you don't have more time to linger on this as Azriel finally manages to get a few good hits in, leaving Norris stumbling back away from him.
Rhysand is next to you in the blink of an eye, chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. You move to help Azriel, hoping to distract Norris enough for him to be able to infiltrate his mind. It doesn't take much longer before Norris finally drops unconscious at your feet, and you immediately let out a relieved breath. Azriel's shadows move to tie him up so he has no chance of escaping.
Your plan had always been to catch Norris off guard or wear him down enough so that Rhysand would be able to infiltrate his mind, successfully knocking him out so you could take him back to the Night Court for interrogation. And, as much as you'd planned for the possibility of him bringing backup, the assassins had made this harder to achieve. You all had been worn down more than expected, but, as you look around, you see no one seems to be gravely injured.
Cassian smiles and nods at you when he notices you eyeing the blood trickling down his shoulder, it wasn't too deep of a wound and the blood was already stopping from the looks of it. Azriel did tell you Illyrians heal faster than most fae. Speaking of, you feel scarred fingers wrap around your wrist as you give Cassian a tentative smile of your own.
Your focus is stolen by Azriel, your eyes finding his instantly as he holds up your hand carefully, examining the wound and the blood that had been smeared all around you during the fight. He's wearing a conflicted expression, pain visible in his eyes. You've found Azriel shoulders too much guilt, even when what happened wasn't his fault.
His other hand reaches out to touch your neck, where a small cut overlaps with the pronounced scar on your skin. He's been blaming himself for your death for over a century, he must have been terrified of not being able to stop it again, even if it was happening right in front of him.
“I'm alright, Azriel,” you smile up at him, hoping to calm him down, “This will be gone by tomorrow.”
“We need to take you to a healer.” You shake your head, not wanting to stay behind and leave them to deal with Norris by themselves. Gently prying Azriel's hands away from you, you go to tell him as much.
“He's right,” Morrigan interjects, “I can take you to Madja and she'll fix it for you in an instant. I can bring you back right after.”
“It's just my hand.” You don't understand why they're making such a big deal out of it. This wouldn't need a healer, aside from some discomfort it won't hinder you in any way. They all have small wounds of their own that they seem to be ignoring.
“You're hurt.” There's a finality in Azriel's tone that is starting to rub you the wrong way. You understand he's concerned, you've tried to be considerate of his complicated feelings ever since you found out you had been his wife and the tragic way in which he had lost you, but that doesn't mean he can order you around.
“Barely.” You try to keep your voice leveled, pointing at Norris' unconscious form still covered in shadows. “And this is a lot more important. I need to know what he did.”
“I'll tell you everything we find. You don't need to go with us.”
“What?” You can feel the confusion taking over your features. Azriel has been forthcoming with any and every bit of information, you don't understand why he's trying to keep you away now.
“It's best if you don't come to the dungeon. You don't need to see that,” he offers, his face becoming irritatingly blank, the mask you know he uses as the Night Court's Spymaster. This only makes your anger spike even faster.
“See what?,” you challenged, head tilting to the side, “Do you think I never tortured anyone?” Your voice rises with every word, annoyance taking over your body. “I know the female you married was much different from what I am now, and I don't know if she let you order her around like this, but I'm not her.”
“I'm not ordering you-” Azriel's face falls at your words but you're too far gone to even try to interpret what it's written in his eyes, to even listen to what he has to say.
“It sure sounds like you are.”
Rhysand stands between you two before the argument can escalate further. “This is not the time to be fighting. We need to take him to a safe place before he regains conscience. I can only keep him down for so long.” He eyes Azriel for a moment, studying his features as some sort of understanding takes over his own. “Mor will take you to a healer,” he holds up a hand as you open your mouth to argue back, “It will only take a moment and then you can meet us in the dungeon. We won't start without you. I promise.”
By the expression on his face and authority behind his words, you know trying to argue with the High Lord won't take you anywhere right now. He's too used to calling all the shots and you can't change his mind in a matter of minutes, not when there's a much more pressing situation on your hands. You need to choose your battles.
You simply turn to Morrigan, ignoring the hazel eyes staring straight into your soul. “Take me to your healer then. The sooner I get this done the better.” She nods at you, extending her hand as she winnows you both back to Velaris.
The adrenaline of the fight started wearing off as the healer, Madja, worked on your hand, stitching skin back together with expert ease. As much as it had annoyed you to be sent to the infirmary, you could admit the pain had been worse than you expected as your body calmed down. It still wouldn't have been much of a problem to warrant that amount of concern.
Morrigan simply watches as the old fae works on you. She tried to talk to you about Azriel but you pushed her away, not wanting to hear any explanations from her. He's old enough to speak for himself, and you'll probably be eager to hear what he has to say after this whole situation is worked out. Right now, you only want to go back to where they're holding Norris so you can finally understand what he did to you and hopefully learn how to fix it.
Just as Madja is wrapping your hand in a white bandage, keeping the strong smelling ointment she spread in place, the healer speaks up for what feels like the first time tonight. “That boy loves you more than anything. Give him a chance to explain. I'm sure he never meant to hurt you,” she finishes as she pats your hand softly. “All done.”
Her words give you pause. It does make you wonder how obvious your and Azriel's love had been that everyone seems to have no doubt in their minds that he would do anything for you. He seems to be very private in his affairs, especially personal ones. It also makes you curious if you'd known her before, it's more than likely since she's the Inner Circle's healer. You push those thoughts away, knowing you wouldn't ask the old healer about your relationship before anyway. You were so close to getting your memories, you needed to focus on that.
“Thank you.” She gives you one more smile before gathering her things, making you stand up and rush to Morrigan, who has a somewhat nostalgic and understanding smile on her face. She holds onto your shoulder before you even have the chance to say anything, knowing what your next words were going to be.
As soon as you winnow in, you understand why they called this place a dungeon. There really was no other way to describe the dark, stone covered space. The air was thick with humidity and blood, the kind you know has lingered for centuries and will never be completely washed out. You have to blink a few times to let your eyes adjust to the dim lighting, it was truly close to pitch black inside, the perfect environment to torment someone in, especially when you're the shadowsinger.
You never let your eyes meet Azriel's when you walk in, even as he turned to you, only allowing yourself to focus on your former handler, heavy chains on each of his wrists as he stood on his knees in the middle of a cell. He was already awake, it seems they did start without you. Rhysand speaks into your mind, sensing the incoming protest. He woke up sooner than we expected. He's been trained for this.
A sigh almost escapes you. Norris was trained for every possibility, this was going to be a gruesome session. As much as you were arguing with Azriel to stay, the truth is this is not something you ever enjoyed. So many in the guild did this sort of thing for pleasure but you only ever tortured anyone when it was strictly necessary and they had truly done something awful to warrant it. You can only hope it at least gives you the information you've been searching for and the freedom you never even dared to dream about.
“I almost thought you weren't going to show your face again.” It's infuriating how unaffected Norris sounds even though his blood already stains Azriel's favorite dagger.
“Wouldn't miss this show for the world,” you admit. He was one of the few individuals you believed deserved this and much worse, for all he has done to not only you but so many others. You're almost certain your conscience won't bother you for this.
Up until tonight your feelings for him were passive. You never particularly liked him, but you always felt obligated to show him respect as your superior, there were also less than ideal consequences if you let your true feelings show. Still, there had been some small, stupid hope that he didn't really do all those awful things to you. He trained you and taught you a lot, knowledge that you know has helped you in a lot of bad situations, that has kept you alive through them, and will continue to do so in the future.
A sickening smirk overtakes his face at your response. “I always liked you better when you acted like one of us.” Fury and shame travels across your body, but Azriel moves before you get the chance to, slashing his blade across Norris' chest, a sharp noise of pain escaping him. The gesture almost makes you smile, as twisted as that may sound.
“You'd do well to watch your mouth. My Spymaster doesn't take well to disrespect,” Rhysand's voice sounds different, arrogant but nothing short of furious.
“Still hung up on her? Since you stopped searching I thought you found yourself a new shiny toy.” Azriel's fist connects with Norris' jaw as he gets the last words out, a laugh escaping him despite the flow of blood rushing through his teeth for being able to rattle the shadowsinger.
You decide to step in, not wanting to let Azriel speak or act for you when you're more than capable of doing it yourself. And knowing how much he blames himself for your situation, for stopping his search when you were alive all this time. You'd be damned if you let Norris hurt him in any way. He's done more than enough.
“So you admit you were the one who found me.” You walk until you're standing over Norris' beaten body, right next to Azriel, close enough he has to adjust his wings not to touch you.
“Of course, you were one of my finest projects.” You let out an acknowledging hum, temperature dropping around you as your icy power rose to your fingertips. The pain would be a lot worse if you kept his body temperature down, you want his whole body to ache. This was going to be a long night, thankfully hurting Norris was nothing short of enjoyable.
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meanbossart · 4 months
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in the least confrontational way possible…what’s up with you shipping durge and orin? is it just another aspect of u liking fucked up dark dynamics in media? personally its not for me at all, but i’m curious why you like them together and how her dynamic is with ur durge
[CONTENT WARNING for mentions of inter generational incest and grooming below, nothing explicit.] Hm. You know, it's a little unfortunate that we have reduced every depiction of characters having a relationship that is at all romantic or sexual in nature (not even, really, I've only ever drawn them hugging LOL) as "shipping". I don't "like" them together in the way I like DU drow and Astarion together, for example, and they never really were together. I made up a story that I find interesting, because I find Orin interesting and wanted to explore her themes more, and liked the idea that hers and Durge's relationship wasn't always "bad".
I really enjoy writing for DU drow, I put a lot of effort into making his story feel fleshed out and suited for the in-game universe. It's a little disheartening that some people may harp on this without considering that there is a wider context beyond it just tickling me, somehow. These are two characters who've never even had sex, in which one of them (Orin) isn't even interested in romance or "mating", and the other one has no concept of healthy relationships, familial or otherwise and just desperately grasps at the one thing he feels a kinship to: to the eventual disintegration of the one relationship he had that approached anything to mutual understanding and relatability.
Theirs isn't a love story, it's a story about isolation and grooming that led to total dependency. If you've been told your whole life that everyone and everything is fated to die at your hand, that your kind is meant to be contained within a genetical crockpot, that debauchery is normalcy and everyone else is the enemy, it is no huge stretch that you would dump all expectations of companionship onto your one, supposed equal - friend, sister, mate, should-be-lover. And then, if you're a bad person on top of that, you won't take no for an answer.
Add to that that your grandfather (Sarevok) is apparently in total agreement and a practicant of the idea of inbreeding for weird purity purposes and you have yourself an environment where an obsession like such can be born - one that Orin wants nothing to do with, because unlike DU drow, she doesn't become distracted by matters of the heart - and hence we have conflict, and we have reason for resentment to brew over time. At some point in the past, they had a "good" (within the bhaalist concept) relationship, and there was nothing sexual or romantic about it. DU drow crushed that. And then he got a worm in his brain for it.
Is that shipping? 🤷 idk
If you go onto my blog's archive and look up the "orin the red" tag you can find more asks where I discuss them and their relationship.
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leog4u · 6 months
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Game Design and Porn Pt. 1
or, How To Fuck Up The Best Intrinsic Reward Ever
Hi, I'm Leo G, veteran pervert. One time while chatting in a server exclusively made of porn artists, I brought up the game design of a porn game I enjoyed. One of them laughed, saying "Who cares, it's just a porn game?" Being unwell, I never let this go. Since then, I have played many adult games and took each one as serious products made by professionals. Fast forward to today, and the demo for my porn game, Joker's Trip, is nearing completion. I also have some sci-fi erotica you should check out.
So you wanna make a porn game. You heard they make money, and hey what��s more fun than making a video game AND porn? But you don’t know where to begin! Well don’t worry, Leo’s got you covered. We’re gonna walk through the line of thinking you should have when designing your porn game. There's gonna be at least three parts to this, with part 1 focusing on how to reward your player.
Define "porn game" for me, Leo.
There are porn games, and then games with porn in them. A porn game is a game where you won’t last 5 minutes, where everything exists solely to meet and, subsequently, fuck. A game with porn in it is a game where everything exists for the purpose of the game, and also, you fuck. Fate Stay Night, for example, is a VN with a story that just so happens to have some CGs where the protagonist rails Saber, but is mainly about Shirou and the Holy Grail War. Much like how I would call Castlevania a game with horror in it, but not a horror game.
Porn games are a lot like horror games. They both get a bad rap for being cheap to make, appealing to base instincts, and generally being low quality. They're also both not actual genres of games, but genres of content. Think about it, if I asked you what a horror game is, you'd say a game that's scary. But what's the actual game part? The unfortunate answer would most likely be "walking sim," but there are a lot of examples that are FPSes, puzzles, driving sims, platformers, deck builders, the list goes on.
The most common genres of game I see for porn games these days are by far RPG Maker RPGs and VNs. I won’t be talking about VNs because they’re closer to writing than game design, which isn’t a flaw but a feature. What used to be everywhere, in days of old, were breakout games, where the more bricks and levels were cleared, the more of the sexy image would be revealed in the background. Other arcadey type deals like shoot ‘em ups and mahjong were also around, and had a similar “strip ‘em down until you have sex” gameplay loop.
Okay, so what’s an intrinsic reward?
There’s intrinsic rewards, and there're extrinsic rewards. Extrinsic rewards, generally, are the number go up rewards. Things that make your character stronger, or give you more resources to buy new gear or whatever. Intrinsic rewards in games can cover a large swathe of things. It can be the feeling of satisfaction of completing a puzzle, a piece of lore or world building, or a new dialogue option with a character you want to fuck.
I like fucking characters, are we talking about porn now?
Yes! I’m of the opinion that you literally can’t make a better intrinsic reward than pornography. On top of setting the tone for the entirety of the game., at its best it can add to a story, add to someone’s character development, or be a beautiful piece of art to look at. AND you can jack off to it! Unfortunately, that’s at its best. Let’s talk about how porn is delivered in a theoretical RPG porn game. (As a head’s up, there will be talk of “bad end” scenes, but this is under the assumption that the player is the one consenting.)
So you’re playing an RPG and get into a fight. Maybe you were underleveled or too cumbrained to remember to buy healing potions. Then your HP goes to zero, and instead of going back to the title screen, you’re getting fucked by orcs. That’s right, let’s talk about Game Over CGs.
You get to watch porn when you lose?
To someone making a porn game with a battle system, this delivery method makes sense. The characters in this world are driven primarily by lust, this is just the obvious conclusion. And it doesn’t even have to be non-consensual! Games like Future Fragments show that it can be presented as a sexy inconvenience rather than anything uncomfortable for the player or our hero. Game Over CGs even have the benefit of softening the blow of defeat, by giving the player a chance to reflect on their defeat and jerk off. Even better if losing a fight isn’t lost progress, but rather a bump in the road. However, there’s a problem here. The player is a dog, and we’re rewarding bad behavior.
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The porn is an intrinsic reward, so why are we giving it to the player for losing? Incentivizing losing on purpose isn’t just bad game design, but a waste of time. And to that end, a lot of porn games try to give solutions to this. One being a kill button on the keyboard or a skill that instantly KOs our hero to get to the lose screen faster. What might seem like a convenience is really just expediting failure.
What it says is that the gameplay doesn’t actually matter. You’re just here for the porn, right? In that case there’s plenty of places I can go to see a chick with huge knockers get railed by an orc, with the added bonus of not having to play forgettable and mid turn based combat!
Another solution I’ve seen is the game outright telling you, “hey don’t bother killing yourself to see the porn. Once you beat the game all of the scenes you missed will be unlocked!” At first this seems like a reasonable way to go about it, but it comes with another problem: your game better be fucking good to make me play through the entire thing before getting to see cock. Like I said earlier, porn at its best can reveal things about the world and drive character development. I uh. Just beat the game. I don’t care anymore. Showing me a scene that’s taken out of context by a factor of 5 hours or more isn’t what I’d call great game design or story telling. It’s also too little, too late.
What if we made the porn actual rewards?
Now we’re getting somewhere! Let’s make the reward…a reward! What if, every time the player beats a level, we get some porn? If we tie the CG to beating the boss, we’ll be tying the reward to game progression. That’s good right? So now, on top of the extrinsic rewards you’d normally get for beating a boss (a lot of EXP, better gear, opened areas) we also get that sweet dopamine rush of pornography! So we’re good, right?
There’s 1142 words left in this post, so I’m assuming no.
Well. It’s a start. It has the problem of predictability. If not handled properly, it comes off as lazy. As a game designer, one of your goals is to not constantly remind your player that they’re playing a video game. Get through the level, get porn. It feels a little too “mouse in a maze looking for cheese” for my taste. And much like the game over method, if the actual game itself is mid, the player will start to question if the reward is worth it, and might be afflicted with the worst condition a player could receive: boredom.
Of course there are exceptions. In puzzle or arcade type games where you don’t get extrinsic rewards, giving the player porn as another form of reward per level or whatever is perfectly reasonable (though it does have the issue of being predictable.) This is a perfectly good way of doing it if your game is short, or if the game is, y’know, good and fun to play. Bad Color’s game, Heroine Conquest, is a level based puzzle game with porn as the reward, but only when you do good. Combining the actual challenge of mastering the game, with a genuinely unique game loop makes for a feeling of accomplishment when beating a level. Pair that up with a sex cutscene, and the dopamine rush will hit.
So! Let’s combine giving the player a power trip, with a less rigid structure for giving the player porn. Instead of tying the porn to purely progression gates, let’s tie it to the progression.
Plot milestones
In Third Crisis, sex scenes are peppered throughout the regular game’s plot, starting with some lesbian bondage before introducing the protagonist, who goes through a tutorial before having their own horny encounters. It’s not just given when you win or lose, but is a natural part of the game. Beating bosses, losing to enemies, and exploring dialogue options in sidequests all lead to unlocking new CGs.
Now what’s nice about that, is that the sex isn’t placed somewhere extremely predictable. It isn’t just a reward for beating The Boss Of Forest Zone, Now Go To Ice Zone And Beat The Ice Boss For More Cock. Because that’s the biggest issue of predictable rewards, you know you’re not getting anything until that checkpoint, which will make the player weigh whether or not it’s even worth continuing. This is fine, again, for an arcade type game, not an RPG or adventure game. By sprinkling sex throughout the plot itself, the player will not only want to progress, but their curiosity will have them wondering “what else is out there?”
Rewarding exploration
By putting sex scenes behind optional side quests or encounters, the dog that is the player will scour every single corner of the map, and leave no pixel unturned. Personally, that’s more exciting to me than what you’ll get in the main progression route. In Future Fragments the player can find their rival Faye in sexual situations if they explore the map enough. These are completely optional, and don’t give any direct rewards like more HP or an item, but they’re by far what motivates me to explore the maps as thoroughly as possible, more so than the plot macguffins the game is named after!
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So now the player is excited. Sex can happen anywhere. Maybe that daunting off road path with stronger monsters isn’t just hiding a secret, but a sexy secret! They’ll be more likely to venture down those optional paths you painstakingly made.
If we’re using sex in game overs, boss fights, and just randos, why not put it everywhere?
So now I want to talk about the concept of a “sex stat”. It’s not a bad idea! Say, the higher the player’s sex stat is, the more opportunities you unlock for fucking. It could even be tied to the player character’s personality, and affect the story! Instead of using a sword and shield, they’ll end any conflict with sass and sex. They open their eyes to the horny world around them and stop being a hero, and instead become a succubus, and the ending is a massive cum filled orgy.
That sounds excessive
Yeah, it does, doesn’t it.
I’m not a fan of “corruption” systems in porn games. Corruption as a kink is totally fine, and having it be a part of the story lets you incorporate more sexuality into the plot. But as I alluded to, it snowballs pretty fast (and I’m not talking about spitting in someone’s mouth). It ends up being like a cheat code, where you’re bypassing parts of the game for no cost. It stops being a reward, it stops being unexpected, and it stops it from being sexy.
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Wait, what? Stops being sexy? What’s not sexy about a succubus orgy?
Alright, listen, we gotta rein it in for a minute. This isn’t so much about game design as it is about writing erotica, but if you have a world where everyone’s fucking and sucking 24/7, there’s no contrast to make what would normally be a hot taboo a hot taboo. If everybody’s naked, nobody’s naked. The aforementioned snowball effect of a corruption system can be seen if you play literally any game that has one. It won’t take long to not have to engage with any combat or adventuring system if you can just press the “Submit to the big dick warlock” button and watch porn to progress.
Which, now that I said that, is exactly the problem. Imagine any other rpg you’ve ever played. Now imagine if every encounter and dialogue option had an option to just watch a short cutscene to skip the encounter. That would suck ass, right? Literally no difference here.
It would. Hey, I’m sort of lost now.
Don’t worry, we’re wrapping this up.
So what did we learn? We learned game over CGs have a critical design flaw that shouldn’t be relied on. We learned that predictable rewards can lead to boredom. We learned to keep sex as a reward and not devalue it.
To summarize, here’s a neat trick to know where to put your porn scenes.
”Would I put an Xbox Live achievement here?”
It’s that easy. “Lose to Goblins for the first time,” that’s an achievement. “Beat orc commander,” that’s an achievement. “Find Hubert the Magical Dickhead,” that’s an achievement. Using that as a guideline is foolproof. Almost.
This sounds like it’d take a lot of resources
It sure does! But don’t worry. I’ll cover that in the next post talking all about how to deal with the resource management of a porn game.
(Shoutout to Taylor, my guy for editing!)
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dstryvampres · 3 months
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Come On Baby(Light My Fire) - Neil Lewis x Reader
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MINORS DNI !!!!!
inspired by this song.(Light my fire by the doors)
Pairing: Neil Lewis x Reader
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: weed use, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, sex while high, reader likes the doors sorry I forced that on you
Summary: Neil always comes after his shift to visit you on your late night shift, today he decides to bite the bullet and finally buy a CD from the store, and also ask you out I guess.
A/N: I've been on a huge doors kick recently and I really just wanted to force it onto you guys, and also neil because I love him. love my two male wives neil lewis and Jim Morrison xoxo
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Exactly on time, 9:06pm, is when Neil Lewis prances into your store. The ding of the bell on top of the store’s door, every Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, close to the exact same time of 9:00pm to 9:10pm, was always Neil Lewis. He got off earlier on those days, having one of his friends and co-workers able to cover the last three hours until midnight that Gumshoe was open. You, unfortunately, were stuck until past midnight at your family owned music store, which Neil seemed to take advantage of as much as possible.
“Hello,” Neil greeted you coyly, walking up to the cash register where you stationed yourself for the night.
“Can I help you with anything?” You ask Neil, knowing you absolutely cannot.
“Nope.” Same answer as always.
Neil seemed to have no interest in music at all. Possibly only ever coming in here for a brief chat with you, then a quick stop by the soundtrack area of the store, then the discount area, all while still trying to hold a conversation with you. He would leave around 10 to 10:30pm, only to be back again the next day he could. Sometimes, you enjoyed his company, the jokes he cracked were funny, and he understood your struggles of working at a very niche sector of business. Other times, you wanted to beg him to get out of the store as soon as he came in. Possibly the latter is the case tonight, his big ass head is blocking your view of The Doors: Live at the Bowl ‘68 currently playing on the TV.
“How’s work been going for you?” Neil asks.
“Slow.” Tonight you’ll entertain his presence.
“Really? It was quite busy for a Monday at Gumshoe,” Neil gloats, smiling to himself, far too pleased that his store was doing better than yours.
“Oh yeah? All five of the movie nerds in the city came over today?” You tease, rolling your eyes at Neil’s gloating.
“Actually, it was mostly new people today,” Neil says, turning around to look at the TV now.
“Oh great, just what this world needs, more Gumshoe regulars.”
“You say that like anyone who frequents this store is any better. All that TV plays is music for pretentious losers, like yourself.” Neil glares at you from the corner of his eye, annoyed, but the smile on his face makes his expression more teasing.
“Atleast people know The Doors. Everytime I walk into your store the TV’s always playing something no one’s heard about,” you retort, going back to focusing on the performance instead of Neil.
“I’ll have you know every movie I play at Gumshoe holds importance, and is something everyone should know, even if they don’t,” Neil sighs, “I’m looking to educate the public.”
“How noble.”
Neil scoffs at your comment before walking off to the discount section of the store, leaving you to watch the TV alone. Even on your busier days the store seemed to slow down at this time. Usually it is just you and Neil when he comes in, maybe an additional straggler present who came into the store knowing what they wanted already. Now that Neil’s at the discount section, you know he’ll be busy for a little bit and decide to step out from the cash register to do some cleaning for the night. Mindless work to help you go home quicker when the store finally closes its doors to the public at 12am. Your boots thump on the concrete floor as you walk around the store to put everything back to normal. Letting Neil do his rounds around the store.
Ding.
Turning around to the noise, you find Neil smiling in front of the cash register. Tonight, he’s finally buying something. You never thought the day would come. Neil, a paying customer, and not just a window shopper. You rush over to the cash register to ring him up, excited to see what he finally thought was good enough to buy here.
“Woah! Slow down, you’re acting like I’m robbing you instead of buying from you,” Neil laughs, putting the CD down onto the counter.
It’s The Doors self titled album. You look at him with a quirked eyebrow.
“The performance on the TV persuaded me,” he smiles, looking away from your gaze.
“You always striked me as a vinyl guy,” you take the CD in your hands and open it, making sure the CD isn’t scratched before scanning it.
“I am, I just wanted to listen to it in my car. I was actually hoping that – uh – you’d come listen to it with me after your shift ends,” Neil gulps, wringing his hands out.
“Sure. Why not?” You hand him the CD, “That’ll be 20 dollars and 65 cents by the way.”
“Really? I mean– great. What time do you get off?” Neil slides you the money, you can feel how sweaty his palms are just from the money.
“12:30am, sorry for the wait,” you respond, now leaving the change on the counter to avoid another sweaty palmed encounter with Neil.
“No problem at all! I’ll see you at 12:30 then!” Neil exclaimed, waving a quick goodbye to you, CD and change in hand, before exiting with a huge smile on his face.
୨ৎ
The last three hours of your shift went quite smoothly, a lack of customers allowing you to do most of your closing tasks before the store actually closed and at your own pace. You couldn’t tell if you it was because closing was so easy today or because you were seeing Neil after your shift, but your body felt weirdly tingly with excitement. Neil’s car was parked right outside of the front door of the shop, it was hard to miss because of this, and also because Neil rolled down his window and as soon as you stepped out of the shop he yelled your name and then motioned over. Quickly you lock the door to the shop and open the door to Neil’s car, sliding into the front passenger seat.
“Thanks again for coming out tonight,” Neil said, giving you a soft smile. He then reaches over to the glove box to pull out the CD he just bought and hands it to you. “Will you do the honours?”
“Of course,” you open up the CD’s jewel case and carefully slide the CD into the cars slot.
Neil started driving as the CD whirled around without any noise, before finally the sound of the soft percussion started the album off. You let the song settle into the car staring out the window as Neil drives around, seeming to drive around aimlessly.
“You want to go anywhere in specific?” Neil asks. He had let it get to the second song of the album before saying anything.
“Not really no…” you muse, biting your lip in thought for a couple seconds, “you know for my first time experiencing this album fully, I was high. If you’re not into that it’s no big deal, but, if you are, I have some pot back at home.”
“Yeah, that’d be good,” Neil sighs out, “Lead me there.”
You lead Neil through a stream of winding roads and suburb strips until you guys reach your apartment complex. Allowing Neil to park in a guest spot, he pops out the CD and puts it back into the jewel case. You lead him into the building, and up the elevator. Fiddling around with your keys at your door, before pushing it into the lock and letting the both of you in.
“It’s a little messy, didn’t know I’d have a visiter tonight,” you apologized, closing the front door behind you with your foot and putting the keys on the wall.
“Oh, it’s no worries. You should see my place,” Neil jokes, kickings off his shoes waiting for you to lead the way.
After working off your shoes you lead Neil to your kitchen. Squating down and rummaging through the back of a bottom cupboard until you find your stash in an air tight container. You pull it out of the cupboard, a couple prerolls and some edibles sit in the clear container. Good enough for tonight.
“Shall we?” you ask, standing up and grabbing your lighter.
“Take me away,” Neil says, you take his hand and lead him out to your small balcony.
Your CD player is still out here from last night, you were in a rush to get to the store after sleeping in and forgot to put it back inside. Luckily it didn’t rain and the player is in the same condition it was as before. Neil hands you the CD and you pop it into the player, in return you hand him a joint.
“Let me tell you, this album is amazing sober, but I dare say it’s even better high.” You light his blunt before lighting your own.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Neil says, settling into the lawn chair.
The album starts up once again, ringing out between the two nof you. This time, you feel ths silence is less awkward.
“I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while,” Neil admits, out of the blue.
“Really? How long?” You look over at him, a blunt in his hand as he stares out into the city.
“Yeah, about half a year now. I don’t come into that store because I like music, y’know?” Neil looks at you now, only you.
The lighting from inside your apartment behind him lights up his beautiful bone structure, the light of the fire of the blunt lights up his eyes, and the brief light from the city allows you to catch all the high points of his face. You didn’t realise just how beautiful Neil was until now.
“I mean I could tell you didn’t care for the music, but I just thought you were bored,” you take another hit.
“I mean the first couple of times sure, but I don’t know, there was just something about you that intrigued me. You’re funny, and hot, and so unique,” Neil admits, his eyes not leaving yours.
“Thank you.”
“I mean it,” he blinks slowly and then looks bacl out at the city, continuing, “What don you like about this album?”
“I don’t know,” you admit, laughing, “I had a weird Doors phase at some point in highschool and, I guess, the album stuck through even afterwards. What, do you not like it?”
“No, it’s great. I just want to get to know you better,” Neil says, shaking his head.
“Well, what music do you like?” you ask.
“Soundtracks, but you know that one. I really liked grunge in high school, I guess that stuck with me too a little bit,” Neil purses his lips together, coughing a little.
“Never pegged you as a grunge fan,” you say, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m full of surprises,” Neil jokes, sending you both into a fit of laughter. Something like that usually wouldn’t set you off like that, but for some reason, it was the funniest thing tonight.
The winding chords to Light My Fire started to hit when you both calmed down from the laughter, and when you’ve both started to reach the end of the rolls.
Neil reaches out his hand to you, “Want to dance?”
You nod and take his hand, putting out your blunt as you stand. You both push the chairs off to the side, before setting off into a weird unnatural dance together. It was barely together, the only thing connecting you is the brief stints in which you guys hold hands, maybe Neil spins you around when your hands come together. At some point you guys get so close that when you look up to Neil your face to face with him. He looks at you for a couple seconds before slowly kissing you on the lips, it’s soft and welcoming, allowing for you to reciprocate. Both of you break away quite quickly, another beat, your lips are pressed together again with his. This time the kiss is hungrier, you bite at his lips softly, and he slips his tongue into your mouth. 
“Do you, uh– Want to take this further?” Neil asks, breaking away from the kiss. His pupils are huge, and his hair is messy.
“Yeah,” you respond, before going back into the kiss.
Both of you stumble through the apartment and into your bedroom while kissing. You feel the back of your knees hit your mattress before Neil gently pushes you backwards onto the bed. You look up at him, he’s breathing heavily, blue eyes scanning over your body hungerily. His lips are on yours again, tongue searching your mouth, he fondles your breasts through your shirt. You could feel wetness pool in your panties as Neil started to drag his kisses down to your neck. His fingers grazed your clothed stomach before coming to toy with the hem of your shirt teasing pushing it up slowly, fingers ghosting over your stomach making you whine out. You lightly grab at his hair, tugging it to edge him on to take off your shirt already. Neil takes the hint and pushes you shirt upwards exposing your breasts to him.
Neil smiles looking up at you before taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking the bud and rolling his tongue over it. You moan out at the sensation, staring up at the ceiling, focusing on the pleasure Neil is providing you at the moment. Your body is hot, you want him to hurry up and fuck you. Alas, Neil takes his time with your breasts, toying with both of them using his mouth and fingers. It’s both agonizing and feels so good. He watches you the whole time, taking pleasure in watching your face contort in pleasure and frustration. 
Finally, Neil captures you in a heated kiss again, before breaking off and taking his own shirt off. He places your hands on his chest, allowing you to feel his body’s heat as well as his heartbeat. His heartbeat is fast, mimicking the rise and fall of his chest. You run your hands over his chest and down his arms to his hands, placing them at the top of your jeans, basically begging him to take them off. He unbuttons your jeans, slowly, like he’s done almost everything tonight. Pulling them down with your help to expose your panties, soiled with you wetness. He stares at the wet patch on your panties for a second. Grinning the whole time.
“You flatter me,” Neil says, sliding his own pants down his legs, erection glaringly present. He lets them fall into the pool of pants at the edge of them bed.
Sliding a finger up and down your clothed heat, Neil climbs back into bed with you. Diving back in to kiss you. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms are his neck. His erection presses up against your heat, and he grinds against you. He only lasts about a minute teasing you this way before he’s discarding your panties and positioning his fingers outside your cunt.
“Please,” you whimper out, and within the same breathe his fingers have entered you.
It’s slow at first, a rhythmic in and out pace, stretching you out as best and he can, but your moans fuel him to move his fingers faster. Soon enough your gripping the sheets just at his fingers as they push on your gummy walls deliciously and feverishly. His other hand rubs up and down your thigh, watching as you twitch and moan on his fingers, watching as your pussy takes his fingers in so easily. You clench around his fingers, back arching at his work, and all the sudde his fingers are gone. You look at him with a look of betrayal, which is quickly settled when you see him slide his underwear off, exposing his cock.
“Can I fuck you?” Neil asks, like his swollen tip isn’t already pressed against your entrance.
“Yes please.”
It’s all Neil needs before he’s sliding into you, stretching you out so nicely as he pushes in. When he bottoms out he’s pressed up against that sweet spot inside of you, almost like his cock is made just for you. Both of you sigh of as Neil stays still for a few seconds before pulling out of you slowly. 
“Oh baby, your pussy ‘s so good,” Neil slurs, pushing back into you.
His hands find your waist as he pushes in and out of your pussy. With each thrust Neil’s speed increases, his once calculated and rhythmic thrusts becoming wild and irregular as he continues to fuck you. You scratch his back as he fucks into, moaning as your eyes roll back.
Who knew movie nerds were such good fucks?
“Can I flip you around baby?” Neil pants out, his grip on your waist tightened.
You nod and he slips out of you, allowing you to get on all fours before pushing back into you. He’s hitting further back in this position, stretching out and reaching parts of you that you forgot felt so good.
“Fuck, baby, you look so good, you feel so good,” Neil babbles as he resumes his pace.
You don’t think you can last much longer in this position, with Neil fucking a specific spot in you consistently. He reaches over a hand and starts toying with your nipple again, and thats when you feel the slip happening.
“I’m gon’ cum, Neil, gonna cum,” you whine, arms giving out and face getting shoved into a pillow by Neil’s thrusts.
“Oh– fuck, me neither, cum all over my cock for me, fuck please baby, god please, cum all over my cock,” Neil speeds up his thrusts, reaching his hand down from your boob to your clit.
Neil rubs quick fast circles into your clit. Steadily, but roughly fucking you into your own mattress.
For a moment everything goes black as all you can feel is the knot in your stomach come undone and a shiver run up your body. 
When you return Neil is slumped over beside you, both of you laying down beside eachother. He strokes your hair softly before kissing your forehead.
“Thank you,” Neil whispers, bringing you into his chest.
You decide to stay like this for the night, too tired to move. Neil covers up the both of you letting you fall asleep in his arms.
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bountycancelled · 11 months
Text
LOST CAUSE
bada x reader (part 1)
MASTERLIST | NEXT
warnings: none really, it's just kinda sad
content: petnames (only one is used in reference to reader, but a few are mentioned) alcohol mentions (reader drinks away her feels) sad gays and bad gays, unedited becusse I'm lazy, a whole lotta projecting myself onto reader
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being bada's best friend would be the death of you, you were calling it right now.
she wasn't a bad friend by any means, quite the opposite actually. from the late night talks that would last until the early mornings before you both passed out, the tiny, sentimental gifts she would randomly get for you without expecting anything in return, to the way she would hold you, god, she was perfect. you loved everything about her.
but, that was the problem, wasn't it? you loved her. and a part of you wants to blame her for making it so easy, falling for her, but you know that would be unfair. not only because she wasn't leading you on or anything, but also because she couldn't do any wrong in your eyes.
everytime your heart fluttered at one of her actions, it would sink just as quickly. she's doing this as a friend, you would always remind yourself. but your not so friendly reminders didn't stop you from hoping. for something more, that one day, miracously, bada would realise that she was in lo–
"what's got you so worried?" you were pulled out of your daily dose of dramatic reality checking by none other than bada. her head was in your lap, she stared up at you with a look that you could only describe as... content. comfortable. and so, so beautiful.
"huh?" you answered, having not heard her clearly, too busy being in your head instead of in the real world, where unfortunately, you belonged.
she raised her arm and pressed on the space between your eyebrows, a small pout on her face. "you're frowning. what's wrong, pretty?"
the nicknames. the fucking. nicknames.
pretty, gorgeous, baby, love, honey. it was things like that made you believe, even if just for a moment, that she knew that you liked her, loved her, and was just toying with you for enjoyment.
you'd feel guilty everytime you had that thought. she wouldn't. not to you, not to anyone, not ever.
"it's nothing, really. I'm just in a mood today." you shrugged, hoping that she would, for your sake, take your half-hearted explanation and leave it there.
she nodded, clearly unconvinced, but moved one nonetheless. "do you still wanna go to the club tonight? we can cancel and spend the night together instead." she offered, lifting her head off of your lap in favour of placing it on your shoulder, waiting for your answer.
"no, we can still go, we'll just come back here together. we've blown off our friends enough times, I'm starting to feel bad." you joked, and once again, the atmosphere was light and airy. with that settled, you both stood up, trying to find something to wear for the nights activities.
you walked into her closet, sprinkled with tops and skirts from your own, almost laughing at the absurdity of the situation. for someone who claimed that being around bada was painful, your personal stamp on her home sure made it hard to believe.
"how's this?" you said for what felt like the 29th time to bada (it was only the third) as you spun around for her, showing off one of your options for the night.
she sat at the edge of the bed, ready to go about 20 minutes before you, as she usually was. her head was tilted back, staring at the ceiling as she waited patiently for you to finally choose something to wear.
you tried not to stare at her neck, which she made easier for you by finally looking at you, tilting her head to the side as she inspected your outfit.
"I was gonna say its looks as good as the other two because you look amazing in anything and everything, but... I like this one. a lot."
the way she looked at you when she said that, with her bottom lip between her teeth, stayed with you as you walked to the club together, hand in hand. did she really have no idea how much she affected you? you weren't sure if you hoped that she didn't, or did.
but you weren't going to think of that tonight. you were going to drink, and dance, and hang out with your friends, and not let bada affect you. if only for just one night.
okay, maybe you had had one too many drinks by now, but you weren't drunk just yet. it was still the normal you, just with a few tweaks. a little less shame here, a little more confidence here, nothing too major.
you were half in minah's lap and half in tatters, singing obnoxiously, almost as loud as the song blasting from the speakers. you weren't even thinking of bada... wait, where the hell was bada?
you squinted your eyes as they darted across the dance floor, hopelessly trying to locate her in the dim lighting of the club. but you didn't have to look for long, because she was headed back to your table, a smile painted on her face.
you stood up, suprisingly not stumbling as you walked up to her, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. "where were you?" you shouted over the music, wearing a curious expression.
she bit her lip excitedly before speaking into your ear, sending involuntary shivers down your spine. damn you and your natural charm, bada.
"I met a girl." you didn't mean for your face to drop in the way that it did, but from the looks of it, bada didn't even notice. if she did, then she didn't mention it.
"she actually wants to come over to my place..." bada trailed off, sending you a pleading look, a certain lust-driven glee shining in her eyes.
"oh." you said flatly before you could stop yourself, moving your arms away from her and crossing them over your chest.
she quickly wrapped her arms around your middle, squeezing while pleading her case in an effort to soften the blow. it doesn't help, not one bit.
"I know we were supposed to have a binging marathon, but please baby? just this once? I'll make it up to you real good, you know I always do." 'because I always let you.' you wanted to add, but you bit your tongue, you weren't feining for a fight with bada right about now.
you sigh, your arms hanging limply by your sides. "okay. I'll just crash at lushers'." you fight the urge to gag as she squeals in excitement, at the prospect of spending the night with someone who isn't you.
she gave you a curious look, most likely sensing your jealousy apprehension, her arms still around you, feeling more suffocating than comforting at that moment.
"...are you sure?" no. I'm not, don't go with her.
you nodded furiously, removing her arms from your frame, and turning her around, pushing her toward the dance floor where she had left her pursuit for the night. "go, she'll think you're blowing her off if you keep talking to me."
"are you actually, super, one hundred percent certain that I can go with her?" she pushed you further, and you knew that she knew that you weren't really all that okay with it.
but what was the point? you could easily sway her into sticking to the original plan, but she would've spent the whole night daydreaming about what could've been with the mysterious girl at the club. you didn't want to deal with that. you were tired of feeling like a second choice.
you wanted her to choose you, because she wanted to choose you. not because you asked her to.
'no, I'm not sure. I don't want you to go with her. I want you to choose me for once. choose me.' you screamed in your own mind, but all that could be seen on the outside was you smiling the best you could at bada, nodding once more before walking back to where the rest of your group sat, downing the drink in front of you.
you didn't know if it was even yours, but it didn't matter to you right now.
minah noticed your sudden change in mood, holding your hand in hers in a silent attempt to comfort you. you squeezed it as means of expressing gratitude, you didn't wanna talk about it.
but, you didn't need to. she knew, and if the downright pitiful looks the rest of the group were throwing your way were anything to go by, it seemed that everyone else knew too.
you wanted to leave, so you left. lusher had no problem going home early with you, she could tell that you weren't in a good headspace. you left with lushers arms around you, half to make sure that you didn't stumble, and half to try to make you feel a little better.
you left with a bitter taste in your mouth, and not from the shitty drinks you were downing.
you left without saying goodbye to bada, which you never did. she waved when she saw you by the door, that big smile still evident even in the dark lighting.
you didn't wave back.
a/n: this wasn't planned, and I wrote it in a day, but I hope you guys like it. also, doing a bada series and and a bada smau at the same time isn't my brightest idea, but fuck it, we ball.
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