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#it felt so complete and perfect the way it was
anantaru · 3 days
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big dick hsr men <3
including. sunday, aventurine
warnings. size kink & size difference, petname used: princess, fem! reader
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— sunday
there was one single thing on this world which will always get sunday, one lone action you can always use as a way to flatter your handsome boyfriend— and well, what would such be, you ask? ah, it's the way on how fucking big he was, of course, worryingly thick and merciless on your body that it will always leave you short of breath, shaking and trapped in a chamber of lust.
it's a little funny, don't you think? your body shakes so intensely, tightens and takes his cock every time he starts to press himself in, his erection pushing and twitching in and out, yet your walls respond just as dramatically hot and desperate each time he fucks you rougher.
you want more, of course, because in this world, there was nothing that would get you as aroused and fulfilled as being impaled by the thickness of him.
he's all yours and ugh, sunday was such a romantic because he keeps telling you, keeps whispering tender mine, mine, mine you're fucking mine princess against your earshell that your hips begin to overwhelmingly buck into him, your clit juddering when you rub it on him, your toes curling and thighs shaking as he fucks every last inch of his big shaft into your little cunt.
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— aventurine
aventurine's thick breathing made you shudder, even more as you felt his thick, rounded cock press into you.
a slight discomfort was always there, yes, something shallow and warm pressing against your insides as your slick melted the discomfort away, the prickle of his hair brushing against your forehead together with a kiss on your nose making you feel loved and secured.
you bite your lip, whimpering, letting your boyfriend shift your body back and forth as he fucks into you in a perfect angle, making you see sparks behind your lovely eyes, gasping and groaning, muscles twitching, the cells in your flesh snapping in all the right ways.
you're beneath him, exposed, hot and sweating, pinned into the mattress without a way to escape, and once your body relaxes, the bulge of his cock forms within your walls, your pussy sore and mind drowsy with the rooms heat.
you whine, cry and whimper into his neck, your tits grinding with great pressure on his chest as you push the heels of your feet into his back while enjoying the feeling of being so filled, stuffed and completely and utterly one with him.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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sm-baby · 3 days
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Lesser Evil (Able-owned Pomni)
ko-fi✏️|| Able-owned Pomni MASTERPOST🪆|| Freakshow fics MASTERPOST📚|| Freakshow AU by @hootbon 👁️
TRIGGER WARNINGS: Isolation, Implied violence, Disassociation, Disassociative Amnesia, "KYS" sort of mention
Word count: 10,649
special thank you for @thelunaglitch for donating to my Ko-fi and making this possible :] This is based on the Able-owned Pomni timeline! I'll leave yall to it!
buh-bye! o(*^@^*)o
__________________________________________
High-pitched neighing sounded out as The galloping of horses grew louder. 
There, Able sat lovingly on his stead like a prince returning to his kingdom. And with the prince, his personal servant, draped in a beautiful blue/yellow tutu. 
Able came with the duty of speaking with his brother, And while they spoke about private business matters, Pomni was told to wait outside, in which she curtsied and followed suit. 
Pomni turned her back at the door and simply let time pass by during her visit. It was comparable only to a guard stationed for the royal palace, or-- an even fairer comparison: a car parked outside. 
These past few months, Pomni was taught about nothing but being prim, proper, poise, perfect, and most importantly: obedient. 
What a cruel place to stay, certainly nowhere for a beautiful doll like herself to be in. the torn red and yellow curtains.. the crooked floors, the blood on the walls… The sound of a body dragged by the ground or a knife hitting wood… was familiar to her, and a tiny part of herself found it comforting, but otherwise, she hadn't reacted.
It was a reminder of the concept of death... A reminder of humanity…The existence of mortality… not a very comforting subject.
In the corner of her eye, she saw a familiar face... Most of his shape was shrouded in the dark, but she knew that distinct silhouette anywhere— only for the darkness to completely engulf him as he slowly backed away.
He left. And Pomni blinked, confused. He was staring at her no doubt about it, but why? She thought she was a lot more presentable this way.
No matter. Pomni closed her eyes and returned to her guard. She stood, and sat there, like an unwound doll. It seems she learned how to fall asleep while standing up. As she would black out for the next couple of minutes.
Pomni stood, the tip of her toes gracefully on the floor while her hands politely stayed in front of her, neat to her stomach.
And she would stay there as she disassociated…and eventually fall asleep 
*…
*...
*...
She felt a presence around her.
Pomni slowly brought herself back into consciousness and the faces’ blur lessened. As her eyes adjusted back to her surroundings the former king-turned-magician, and his assistant were standing before her.
Kinger pointed at Pomni. “ See? I told you she was here…”
“ But it can't be…” thought Ragatha.
Kinger would go over and reach for her cheek to maybe-- check signs of warmth. Just to be sure that it isn't some sort of statue… but he would yelp as her head quickly cocked up to look at them like a machine turned on.
“ Good evening.”
“ AHH!! IT TALKS!!” Kinger quickly ran back behind Ragatha, who quickly stood between them to protect kinger… but still. She seemed as confused as ever… Ragatha's eyes narrowed… staring into her face, and then back at kinger to sign something.
“... Pomni Is that you in there?” he said.
“ Yes.”
Kinger’s head perked up from behind Ragatha, and ever so slightly, his eyes dilated. But before he could get too excited, Ragatha pulled him back, signing to him again
“ You're not an NPC, are you?”
“ No.”
Kinger blinked.“ Why do you talk like that?” Despite Ragatha’s efforts to grab him, Kinger walked over to her, like a man wanting to pet a cat. Which he did. 
He put a hand over her head, and despite his gentle, shaken, touch, Pomni still backed away instinctually. Less so in a fearful manner, more so just finding such an activity unpleasant to the touch. 
“ AaaAh! Kinger!”
This action brought out a very reactionary frown from the puppet, which she hadn't expressed since she got there.
Ragatha’s eyes widened at that little detail! It is her! and she quickly walked over to join the two. Kinger continued to pet the poor little ballerina, seemingly clueless to the test that Pomni just passed. 
Ragatha waved enthusiastically as if saying hello to an old friend!
“ What? No! I- I mean- yes! But-” Pomni was slightly embarrassed. Of all the ways to identify her, it was by her being a mess. She would never let her mask slip so easily, but something about the two, the warmth, the humanity, grabbed her back. “Agh… sorry…” 
It was as if she was right back to who she was just a couple of months ago. A staggering, stuttering mess. At this point, Kinger was petting her with two hands! Oh lord.
Kinger let go of her to have a signed conversation with Ragatha. And he replied. “ …I saw Caine and his brother go in there, yeah.”
More gestures from Ragatha.
“ Oh okay, I'll go tell her—- Pomni, why don't we go to another room?... Someone gifted Ragatha a tea set a few days ago, and she can't wait to show you… It would be nice to catch up!”
From the side, she could see Ragatha get a little embarrassed at his comment.
*(The two wait patiently for her reply.)
     > Go with them.
     > Do not go with them.
     > Go with them.
“ W-Well… okay. I don't think the Master said anything about wondering.”
For a moment, Kinger paused and frog-blinked at what Pomni said! But No matter! He put his hand on Pomni’s back and started leading her forward. This was no place to catch up, no no!
     Loading…
“ Have you ever heard of the prisoner’s dilemma?” Men, wealthy as ever, whispered over to each other. Down below were the group of beloved performers, during an active show.
The one in red raised a brow. And with a smirk he replied. “ You have my attention.”
“ My bet’s on the strong one.”
“ Zooble…Okay….” He hummed. “Summoning Gangle now.”
“ Gangle?” Able laughed. “Isn't that the miserable one? Aren't these two close?”
“ Exactly,” Caine said with a smile.
One leg over the other, The brothers stared from the darkness no different from the crowd. When they weren't hosting the performance, they were watching the show, making sure everything was up to speed-- or to be more entertaining.
It seemed the two had this type of play numerous times before. And this little game was mostly amusing for themselves rather than the audience. Judging from how the Strong man grimaced and how the tragedy mask wailed, the entertainment was going to last longer than the performance itself.
     Loading new area… TIP: Ragatha knows a lot about first aid!
The three would walk around the circus halls. And despite having lived there for months before, this all might as well be a completely new discovery for Pomni. In comparison, she was a shining light within the darkness but she stared like it was the most beautiful environment she’s ever been in. The blood on the walls, the knife on the floor, the grimy, mossy corners of the circus, it was familiar, and so lived in. She wasn't used to that.
Another part of her criticism was that the tent needed some renovations, the cracks needed filling, there was mold on the broken paintings. But there was part of her that wanted to leave it alone and watch it rot. Eyes staring in fascination. She was watching paint dry and she loved the shade.
In front of her, Ragatha and Kinger were holding a conversation, and she frowned to think that they had to live in such an environment. It had been months since she’s been living with her owner and she was beyond spoiled. A strong part of her wished they all had the same privilege.
And then there was the yelling.
“ Get lost!”
“ Zooble, I promise I didn't mean to!” sobbing following after.
On their way to Ragatha’s room, just around the corner, the three would see the strongman Zooble marching towards their room, with a hostile grit in their voice that they didn't often raise.
“ We agreed not to say a word and we'd both be safe. We AGREED.”
“ I didn't mean to tell them I promise!” She cried out, begging, screaming. “I'm so sorry!”
With shaking, aggressive hands, Zooble pulled the ribbons that reached over to console them, and swung it against the wall, cracking the weeping, shivering, misery mask. Gangle was lucky that she was harder to break compared to her sister. As she got off with only a few cracks.
Their chest rose and dropped with anger, breathing heavily like a bull. Zooble had been just a little too trusting lately. Their own mistake really. 
They thought it was just her sister that she didn’t have to trust, that Zooble and Gangle have a mutual understanding of their situation, despite their shitty outcomes, at the end of the day, they were both fucked up humans who both did fucked up shit together.
To think that they could indulge in a bond of a shared trauma. That was stupidly sentimental, you'd think that they’d learn. One day they could break a thousand walls, the next they were building them.
SMASH
Gangle flinched when they broke concrete, making more cracks on her mask when Debri fell on her. 
“ Z-zoo-” 
Gangle could hardly get a word in before a door was shut in her face, and she was left back into the darkness…
It was almost like the entire room could flood with how loud she was weeping. With how many tears quickly left her. Even without outside intervention, her mask kept cracking, as if it was about to explode into little depressed pieces.
On the other side of the knot, The comedy mask rolled her eyes. “ This is getting embarrassing." 
And Gangle, the ribbon performer, was dragged up, back to the darkness of the ceiling where they would not be visible.
It was as if Kinger didn't even notice. He was on the way to open the door to Ragatha’s room before being asked… 
“ What was that about?”
“ What was what about?”
Ragatha signed.
“... Oh!” 
Kinger perked up. 
“ Zooble died just a couple of hours ago. Caine made them play a game based on trust and, uh, it didn't end well.”
“ Wh- well- I thought those two were friends…?”
“ I thought so too,” Kinger said. ” We were all really surprised by what Gangle did.” Ragatha signed.
Now Pomni didn’t particularly like Gangle, her desperation for her sister was a matter of life or death for her. Mostly death. The first time Pomni died was a core memory, and she would give anything not to live through it again. But the one thing the circus taught her was that nothing was ever black and white; mostly it was shades of dark gray, but none-the-less. 
Gangle had days of sweetness with Pomni, she remembers her trying to apologize. Although they never stuck or went through, she knew, that underneath it all, Gangle was suffering. They were all suffering. In fact she was suffering in ways Pomni couldn’t begin to comprehend. Pomni had all the right to hate Gangle, and maybe it was because she was now in a better, safer situation, but now she couldn’t. The divide between them was bigger than ever and she could finally easier say that she felt bad for her.
     Loading new area… TIP: alcohol doesn’t affect humans in the digital realm
Creak…
Pomni would find great fascination in Ragatha's room… it looked just the way it did a couple of months ago with the toy box, the piano, and the yarn kit. But she would notice-- a well-kept, almost new addition: a little table, and a tea set. 
Ragatha wouldn't usually let people stay somewhere so intimate to her, but she trusted Kinger and, although she may not have had the best relationship with Pomni, her heart was always open. Maybe this could help her get comfortable again after her absence. It was almost like the first time she arrived at the circus.
Besides, tension seemed to have risen now with the situation outside with the other members. Outside didn't exactly feel safe.
Kinger and Pomni sat around the table, while Ragatha walked over to the cabinets. It was an adjustment for Pomni to stay somewhere so bleak, but her manners hadn’t failed her. Wooden, crusty, chairs, it wasn’t the most comfortable to sit at. A part of her felt bad that this was what the two labeled as “comfortable”, but as a guest, she had no right to judge.
“It's really nice to gather around like this again like old times,” Kinger said with a smile. 
“ U-uh yeah! It really does...” 
Kinger would continue to converse with Pomni. And on Kinger’s left, Ragatha timidly put out cups for them, unable to make eye contact, yet she had such a small, almost thrilled smile on her face. In the middle of their conversation, she would clear her throat and tap Kinger on the shoulder. The tea set sat comfortably in her hands like a precious animal.
Kinger gasped “ O-Oh! Yes! Pomni! Look at what this can do!”
Pomni turned, and Ragatha poured Kinger a cup of tea, steam emitting from its gushing snout, politely making its way into the outside world. Kinger would clap as it the cup filled itself, and Ragatha was ecstatic, both later turning to the confused Pomni in front of them.
She smiled nervously, nodding. They poured some tea. Is that some sort of accomplishment? She didn't mean to be rude, but she was unsure what caused such bright disposition on their faces.
“ Uh! Yeah! That's really cool!” She frankly felt bad that she wasn't seeing what they were seeing. And so, she played along with a forced smile, though the confusion could be seen from miles away.
“ It's tea!” Kinger held the cup with a pinky finger up. “ Water! actual water with temperature, flavor, and all! And.. we don't even have to brew it! It could pour forever, see?” They both looked so happy, and Ragatha had such a spark in her eyes. She dearly blessed the audience members who pulled through to get her something so simple; it was not easy.
Pomni further crooked her brow in confusion before realizing. “Oh… oh! Uh- uh- Im so happy for you two!”
Ragatha's smile dropped.
“ I know!” Kinger said happily, swinging his head side to side to the little tune in his mind, closed his eyes, happily sipping while looking off to the side… but Ragatha was different. She noticed Pomni’s lack of enthusiasm earlier on, and the insecurities crept in. Holding her elbows and looking away, saddened and disappointed. 
“ Noo..! No, Ragatha I mean it! I do!” Pomni quickly noticed, “ It really is nice! I just…” Pomni exhaled…
Ragatha didn't budge. She wasn't sure if she wanted the reassurance or if she wanted her to drop the subject. She was trying to be good to Pomni during her visit; She wanted her to feel welcomed in her own home, not to patronize her to make her feel better.
The two girls looked away from each other. Ragatha felt insecure and Pomni felt guilty. And then there was a kinger who was chewing on play-toy-like biscuits. It had no flavor, or texture, or anything really. But he was chewing away anyway.
Good job, Pomni, You made everything awkward.
“ Ragatha really likes this tea set. “ Kinger happily said, stuffing his mouth. “ I thought you'd like it more, Pomni. We don't really get this realistic of food often.” As they spoke, Ragatha sat down.
“ I- Well- in the brothers’ realm I kind of- I already...” Pomni took hold of the tea poured for her, and she stuttered. She didn’t exactly know how to keep talking without sounding like she was gloating. She imagined saying that you have a good balanced diet isn’t the most humble thing to say to someone who was, say, in a third-world country. 
A confused look from Ragatha… but Kinger’s eyes sparkled. “ I knew there was a reason why you dressed so fancy… So that's where you've been this whole time? Did Caine cave in and kidnap you?’
“ What? No! I think.” She could never be too sure. but honestly, he might as well have. “ Last I was in the circus-- you know how I got into a major argument with Caine?”
“ Yeah, to be honest, I was expecting to see you die over and over that day.” Kinger said so casually with a chuckle… as if it was a little joke. ”I think the only reason why Caine held back was because his brother was over.”
“ Yeah, his… brother, uh... The thing is he went after me and we made a deal. Now I kinda just… live in their realm.”
“ That sounds terrible.”
“No!” She said, just a little bit too loud, but almost in a reassuring voice. “ I get good food! a comfortable place to stay… clean the house…”
Ragatha and Kinger blinked and turned to eachother. 
“ What?” Ragatha thought to herself.
Kinger spoke with a deep concern in his voice. “Is that a reward after doing them a big favor? Like maybe…Cutting a finger off… maybe three.”
“ No—! I just shook his hand and- I moved…!”
I brief moment of silence from Kinger and Ragatha. Though those few seconds felt like hell to Pomni thinking they severed their relationship right then. How exactly are two people who went through hell and back supposed to react to that? They didn’t know. Maybe they did know deep down, but to hear it so suddenly may have delayed such feelings. 
Ragatha turned to Kinger and signed.
“She says she's really jealous of you b-but, heh, We're both really jealous…” Kinger laughed sweetly. Ragatha continued.
Pomni would notice that her hands got just a little bit shyer. The way she sunk into herself, her gestures got smaller, looking away, before stopping herself altogether.
“ She's asking if we could—” Ragatha shook her hands in front of her, interrupting Kinger, shy to let Kinger continue his interpretation.
But Pomni was ecstatic to answer that question. Her eyes dilated, and her head nodded in quick enthusiasm, almost encouraging them to keep talking.  “ I-I would love for you guys to be there!! The circus is hell!”
The two snapped their heads back at her.
“ I don't know how-- b-but! I'll try talking to him about it! You- I think you two would really like all the fun activities, the new clothes…” 
The two looked at each other and Ragatha flinched when Pomni stood up from her seat, hands on the table, taken aback at her sudden enthusiasm.
“ R-Ragatha they have all sorts of good food! Chicken, red meat, seafood-- I-I'd love to cook with you some- sometime!” Ragatha’s face turned red at that. “ I-I always had trouble cutting the meat… but I think you'd be really good at it.”
Pomni then turned to Kinger. “ A-and Kinger! Y-You- I think you'd really like what I do in my spare time! knitting-- and chess, and checkers, and- and reading!”
Kinger’s eyes dilated. Pomni recalled Kinger playing with such things in the circus-- although not in the conventional way they were made for, but to think that he would be able to play in a safer environment, sounded wonderful. Pomni was describing such simple activities… and yet the two felt a special warmth in their hearts. A little bit of hope that they hadn't had in a long time.
“ W-we could do that?”
“ You could! I-... If- if Able says yes… but I'll try to make it work! He's a really nice man! Maybe if I did a couple extra favors, cleaned the house better…” Pomni started muttering, at the end talking to herself more than anything. 
Pomni speaks so highly about such simple activities but if she were to be entirely honest, she hasn't done any recreational activities back in the manor in a long time.
The checkers board and the chess set she spoke dreamily about had been nothing but collecting dust for the past few months. But to think that she could play with another person, playing cards with Kinger, eating dinner with Ragatha. friends. Other living breathing human beings who share her grief, her sense of purpose. 
That was what she was speaking highly of. 
That's what she wanted.
Even with just her short stay here, despite the grueling atmosphere, She hasn't felt so human in such a long, long time. Heaven was lonely and she wanted to take them with her.
“ Well, that does sound very lovely, doesn't it…” Kinger turned. “ Ragatha?”
Kinger didn't have to translate this one. With a smile, Ragatha happily nodded her head.
The three would continue their conversation, The simple indulgence Pomni brought onto the table, telling tales of all the things she'd been doing at the manor, and the life all three of them could lead together. 
The conversation brought something out about each other. Ragatha does remember cooking nice meals, and Kinger does remember having simple activities such as board games next to a nicely brewed cup of coffee and a lovely outside porch. To think that they could have at least a slimmer of that in a new, cleaner, safer environment, it sounded like a dream.
It didn't take long until the conversation turned into a more lighthearted tune. Their dreamy chatting would turn into laughter over jokes only old friends shared, or the whispered gossiping from one mouth to another. 
Ragatha spoke about how she once swung a knife at an audience member which they somehow enjoyed, but was then later punished for it later on. She laughed at the memory, both she and Kinger did. Pomni felt like she shouldn’t be giggling at it. But their little faces, the way they coped about it, she couldn’t help but indulge no matter how harmful the mechanism could be. She saw their faces and only wished to fit in again.
Their conversation would be cut short, however, as 
RING! RING! RING!
Oh crap. 
An old rotary phone popped out of thin air, and Pomni quickly picked it up. “ Hello?”
Ragatha and Kinger blinked. What A fancy new phone! They knew that it was the brother’s preferred way of communication. To think that they’d allow her to use the same communication line only further reminded them how much less they must be compared to her.
“ I-I’m in Ragatha’s room…” 
Chatter from the other side.
“ Yes, master…No, no master…Yes.” Pomni spoke “ Well I- I was… Oh, we’re leaving?” She bit her lip. “ A-Actually I was wondering if they could-” 
Chatter on the other side. 
“ Yes… Sorry, master. Okay.” 
It was as if Pomni’s whole demeanor changed. She may not have noticed it as she was usually a nervous wreck, but the way her back instinctually straightened, he legs just a little tense. She even called him master… god. To ragatha it was admittedly a little pretentious… Kinger thought nothing of it.
Click!
And so, Pomni had to head off. And she stared off into the distance before she started speaking again. The look on her face was a sort of dread rather than any sort of relief one might expect…especially coming back to the so-called “haven” she’d been praising for the past hour or so.
“ Heading home huh? Exciting!” Kinger said, and Ragatha smiled, excusing the pit of jealousy she felt inside her.
Without even turning to them, Pomni stood up from her seat and, with slow and graceful steps, walking by the tip of her toes, she bowed. And back came that monotone voice she had on earlier that day. “ It was a wonderful evening with you, but It seems my master is done with his duties.”
After bidding eachother farewell, thank yous, and apologies, Kinger and Ragatha offered to escort her back, but Pomni was insistent on not. She much rather let them rest and leave them to their own devices. And so she left, leaving the door to the room quietly.
Click!
Pomni took a deep breath but kept her composure. Not having them escort her was her own decision; there was really no harm in it. She just wasn’t very good at goodbyes. And in a way, her walk back to meet her master was her mentally bidding herself farewell to the circus in her own comfort. Tip of her toes touching the ground, It was as if she was holding her breath the whole time she walked back.
On her way there, she stopped in her tracks. On her right, Pomni was faced to faced with a room, and it came to her that she hadn’t seen her door the whole way there. It never really came to mind, at most she thought it would be crossed out, emptied, or replaced by a mannequin… She didn’t notice it earlier with how heavily vandalized it was, but from its position and the order of the doors, Pomni would realize that the entrance with the broken hinges, and the panel so heavily beaten… 
Pomni wiped off the dust that covered its face. 
That was her door.
She didn’t even have to turn its handle. The moment she placed any sort of weight on it, it opened. And the look of her room almost broke her entire disposition. 
Kinger’s voice from earlier in their conversation echoed in her mind. 
“ We thought you were dead, Pomni.” 
The shards of glass on the wall, the wallpaper torn to the floor, the dusty debris from her old cabinets, and her old tea set shattered into the smallest of pieces. Pomni couldn’t even recognize her old bed… the blanket, her sheets, the pillows fluff torn everywhere. 
The pictures she had on her bedside of her and her friends were ripped into pieces, her dresses, her bows, her makeup… Everything, the littlest things that used to bring her comfort during hard days on the circus, were gone, and broken into pieces.
Kinger’s voice continued. “ Yeah… Caine really didn’t take it well the day you left.” 
Mixed emotions. She couldn’t pick, she was so caught in the middle. Confused, terrified. Her body lay still, but just a little too still. 
From the graceful stance she was taught to hold, she was instead the equivalent of a deer in headlights. It was as if another part of her life, the last bit of her humanity was violated and killed right in front of her. Her breath hitched. Her breathing was panicked, and heavy.
Pomni felt a hand on her shoulder and she whipped her head back, flinching with a strong sense of panic. 
It was just Ragatha. But even with her sorry, gentle eyes, Pomni’s legs shook, scared, terrified. She didn’t know what to think, or do, or trust anymore. She lost all grace as her professional walk turned into a run, shaken legs slowing her down, but she didn’t want to be there anymore. Though Ragatha tried to reach out for her, Pomni was quickly taken into the darkness, out of sight. 
Pomni… REALLY didn’t do well at goodbyes.
That night, Pomni’s eyes went sore from her tears. Her whimpers were akin to a weeping child, hurt abused, and shielded herself from the outside world. Her heart ached, sobbing, desperately crying for someone’s touch, for someone to reach over and wipe those tears away. the images of broken glass, broken wood, and ripped sheets on the floor repeated in her head. 
She thought it was all over... but any sort of contact with the circus seemed to retraumatize her in newer and newer ways. She could hardly sleep. Voices in her head echoed screaming, pleas, and apologies when it was previously so deafeningly silent.
Something in her felt violated from the inside. She left her soul at the circus and they ripped it to shreds. She just lost a part of herself, the last bit of humanity she had left. And so Pomni cried. That’s all she could ever do. ruined, disheveled hair, underneath the blankets. Pomni cried hugging herself like a mother holding her baby.
Although she tried to feel human-- cleaning around the Manor, cooking, eating, taking baths… It all felt so fake. She stopped doing a lot of recreational activities. 
When she was not needed, she would stare at the ceiling as she lost interest in the world around her. She wasn’t real. The world around her wasn’t real. She wasn’t human anymore… The real Pomni died as soon as she entered the circus, deluded into thinking there was a chance to leave. She was living the best-case scenario in the digital world, and now that she’d seen it, she wanted to die.
“ One, two, three, and- one two three and… No, No, Pomni, you’re doing it wrong.”
Snapping his fingers, Able restarted the record player and approached Pomni. She had been just a little bit rusty today, getting his breakfast wrong, and lost her timing in her routines. No matter. All she needs is a partner and she’ll be right back to her senses. 
For the past hour or so, Pomni and Able joined eachother dancing in their pastime. He took hold of Pomni’s hand and onto her waist where would start, this time: ballroom. 
Able counted, and the numbers drifted away when they were right back to moving smoothly. After a while, Able hummed to the tune of the record players, holding Pomni firmly with his large gloved hands. 
Why, what a lovely way to start your morning. The fake sounds of birds outside weren’t off-putting at all.
Able dipped her, and asked, “ What’s on your mind dear?”
*(You reply…)
     > Lie
     > Truth
     > Lie
“ Nothing, just… slept wrong is all.”
“ Is that why your heart was at 200 bpm last night?” he clicked his teeth in disapproval. “ I may be a computer Pomni, but I’m no fool. Humans don’t go to bed at that high of a heart rate.”
Able twirled Pomni and she frowned at his reply. She didn’t have the energy to hide anything she supposed…
*(What to say…)
     > The Manor
     > The Circus
     > The Manor
“ Master, I don’t mean to be ungrateful or anything but… the Manor... Doesn’t it get a little lonely?”
“ Lonely, lonely…” he shook his head playfully. “ I have my brother… I have my wonderful maid, Pomni. What else do I need? Truthfully us AI don’t exactly need company, dear.” 
Pomni went silent. She tried dancing around the subject and she got her answer. She knew he wouldn’t understand. 
“ Don’t tell me that you feel lonely. ”
Pomni bit her lip. Those were thoughts that she kept buried for politeness. But how is she supposed to deny them now that he was grabbing it out of her? “...Sometimes.”
“ Awh, Pomni…”
“ Able, what do I have to do to get my friends in here? R-Ragatha and Kinger?”
Their dance stopped. That was all so sudden. And her speech was much more informal than usual. Actually, Pomni hasn’t had that insistent of a tone of voice in a long long time. 
 “ Pomni…” he hummed sweetly. 
“ We- We talked about it yesterday! and- and I think It would be good! “
Able held her in place, and in reply she started gripping at him, getting tighter as she spoke. 
“ Good f-for everyone really! N-not that the Freakshow is bad, but uhm-” Pomni lied. Her voice grew desperate.“ I could use the company! Ragatha, Kinger, and I could provide some better service! Ragatha can play the piano for you and-”
“ Dear…”
“ and… and…” her voice grew quieter and quieter. As tears started forming on her face, she sensed disappointment in herself. She wasn’t very convincing, in fact, she must have been so pathetic on the outside. 
“ There there, dear…” Able took his hands and wiped her little tears away from her face. And she looked up at him mentally cursing herself for being unable to feel less child-like. “ You’re feeling lonely… so you want your friends to join you here, is that correct?”
“ …M-Mhm..” She sniffed, and Able put a bit of hair to her side, holding her cheeks gently which she desperately found comfort in. His voice was so soft at the moment, hushing her as if she were an injured animal.
But Able sighed and looked to the side, and later put a hand between his chin and mouth, half muffling his words “ I was afraid you’d say that…”
“ What?”
“ It isn’t easy to bring you performers in the mansion dear, let alone permanently... I had to pull a couple of strings just to have you be part of my staff-- I don’t think 2 more is possible. ”
“ I-I’ll help! Whatever I have to do to make the process easier, You name it, I’ll do it! ”
“ It’s not that easy… And for the sake of my brother and I, it’ll only do damage in the long run.” 
Able to let go of Pomni in which she found herself making extra effort to loosen her grip.
” My Brother and I’s core purpose is to entertain and run the Circus. And if it were to lose more and more performers, the circus would… well… Let's just say we were sent a lot of complaints when you were no longer on stage.”
“ But… there has to be a compromise… You can write new conditions, can’t you?”
“ No more, Pomni.” He put a hand up to get her to stop talking and she followed… “ I’ve known Ragatha and Kinger even before the Freakshow; I understand, they’re very wonderful people… But their place is there, and your place is here. You’re safe. You have a good place to sleep. Isn’t that enough?”
Pomni stayed silent. She looked down at the floor… Disappointed but no longer had any tears to cry. She was exhausted… and in return, she failed to answer his question.
“ Pomni… “ Able saw this and held both her hands on one hand, and her face in the other. And as if Able popped up from thin air, she flinched, but quickly buried her face into his touch and the euphoria it brought her. “ I said, isn’t that enough?” 
With a shaky sniffle, she nodded her head to say yes. Able has done so much for her… but she didn’t feel the sincerity in her own answer.
“ There we go,” 
Just as Able was going to pull away, Pomni grabbed his hand and put him back. “ Can I… stay with you today?”
Able was slightly taken aback, but nodded.“ Of course.”
     Loading new area… TIP: Raise your pinky during tea with the blue ringmaster! 
For the rest of the day, Able would be at home, getting his work done long distance and keeping his doll company. And while he did, Pomni would be sat in the same room, either doing her own activities like knitting, or just standing there to look pretty. Her eyes looked dead like usual, not different from how she was that morning. 
There was nothing really in the manor to change her view on anything. Able was kind enough to be there with her, and she did enjoy his company to some extent, but she still felt like decoration beside him. He was AI, nothing compared to a human’s warmth. At some point, she felt like he was just saying what she wanted to hear. 
Caine opened the door “ Meeting time-- oh and leave your doll here why don’t you? We’re professional here.”
“ No.” Able hummed sweetly, and got up from his seat. “It's not just it, brother, she’s a she. Pomni happened to have a particularly hard day today, and wishes to stay by me.”
“ And what exactly does a toy have to be stressed out about?”
“ None of your business.” Able frowned.
Even though Caine hadn’t moved, Able stood in front of her, subtly protective. Though his voice turned just a little sour, “ What? Can you not focus because a toy was in your general vicinity?”
“ You speak for yourself, I have--” Caine sighed and caught himself. They were getting along just a moment ago. In fact, they’ve been getting along much better than they’ve ever had recently… but it’s always Pomni. It seems any talk about her quickly put them in a petty mood. “ I don’t want to argue today, brother, okay? We have bigger matters to tend to.”
And as if at the flick of the switch, Able’s body became less protective, humming a small chuckle as if it wasn’t “fun” to hold that stance anymore. “ Very well.”
     Loading New Area… TIP: A clean servant means a happier master!
Another adjustment Able had to make while having Pomni around was walking. An adjustment that Caine also had to painstakingly follow for the afternoon. Usually, they would just snap their fingers and teleport to their meeting room, now with Pomni, a human, they couldn’t just do that. Not to mention with how she had a weak stomach she would easily make a mess if they teleported her with them. God, the things they do for that measly little doll…
This was more than inconvenient. And as if they didn’t care for her existence they started speaking about work in front of her.
“ The Candy NPC just had too many functions, it tried to do things all at once”
“ I told you we should have just split them into two.”
“ I didn’t think three whole game mechanics was too much.”
Able clicked his teeth.
They chatted and chatted, and Pomni’s eyes would stay on the floor. Their voices drowned out and muffled, she didn’t really see a reason to get back from her disassociation, nore did she want to. 
Just as her vision started to blur as well, her thoughts were interrupted by a loud alarm coming from the brother’s watches, blaring red and loud, causing the three to stop in their tracks while Pomni covered her ears.
“ Oh. System breach.” Caine sighed, slightly annoyed. This walk to their meeting room is longer than her remembered. With how easily he teleports from place to place, he supposed it was the first time he actually felt the scale of how big a manor can be.
“ I thought I fixed that just yesterday…”
“ Did you.” Caine said, unamused, a playfully disappointed look at his brother.
“ Don’t you start that tone with me. ” Able joined him, Putting a hand on his chest dramatically.
Strangely, when they weren’t bickering, their casual banter was more akin to friendly competition. One could almost tell how close their relationship was from how light hearted their insults were. 
“ I swear if I find that it’s one of your errors, you’re taking more of my load for the next adventure.” Able said.
“ It’s a bet.”
“ Ha! Cocky, aren’t we?” Able then turned to Pomni who was just calming down from the surprise alarm. “ Pomni, I’ll have to leave.” 
“ Y-Your leaving? but-”
“ This isn’t something that can be fixed long distance. I’ll be right back in a few minutes, don’t worry!”
“ O-oh… okay..”
After patting her hand and her back, Able would snap his fingers, and in a split second, he disappeared… 
Pomni was just a little tense. Although the day was almost over, she was really hoping to spend it around him… She put a lot of her safety in his presence that day… And now she was back to being alone…
… her bad, she wasn’t alone.
While Able disappeared, Caine was left to wait with her.
Oh boy.
It’s been a couple of months since she was owned, and for those past couple months, Caine seemed to have completely moved on from her. 
Lately, he and Able were able to find a resolution, talking out their differences like men, and they’ve been closer ever since then. Maybe it was at the back of her mind, but she noticed this with how they started talking about other interests and Able left the house to spend more time with him. 
When around her, the brothers would more or less pretend she wasn’t there, especially Caine. Pomni wondered if this was a boundary they set up for each other. Though this doesn’t mean that Pomni wasn’t prone to insults or backhanded compliments from both parties. 
The hallway was more than silent to say the least, a strong contrast that took place mere moments before. They had nothing to say to eachother. Neither Caine nor Pomni did.
But strangely… Maybe this was her desperation kicking in, with her master leaving the building, but Pomni wasn’t against Caine being there… In fact, she would have hated much more if he wasn’t there.
Caine cleared his throat and stood still as the awkwardness of the situation grew. He didn’t know what to do. Pretending that you were busy during an awkward situation was a human thing, he never needed to do that. And yet at the corner of his eyes, he could sense her staring at him. 
And it made him feel… strange.
Maybe it was her intrusive thoughts kicking in, but Pomni had thoughts that she wasn't used to. Why did she feel… at ease being alone with Caine? She didn't mind it, but she didn't wanna get used to it. 
And so Pomni turned away from him.
This little action however wasn’t taken so kindly from the other party. Caine would curse himself-- why did she turn away?! 
He finally got her attention again unprompted and she stopped! What, did she think she was better than him? Was he not good enough for her?! She was the performance to be laughed at, not him! 
This boiled something up inside of him, though he held a great poker face…. But a few moments later, he stepped back, just a little bit, and assessed his thoughts.
He knew this feeling, 
He thought he got over this.
The grip on his cane loosened and his back straightened. He cleared his throat and further turned away from Pomni. 
When was his brother coming back? Minutes felt like hours, he couldn’t come any slower.
“ …How have to been treating my brother? Good, I hope.”
“ Good.” Pomni cleared her throat. “ How is… how is the… Circus?”
“ Good.” It seems Caine wasn’t any better at answering how-are-yous… “ The performers talk about you often. The audience isn’t any better.”
That brought up a small smile from Pomni… and a small laugh too that greatly affected Caine’s mood. Funny how the smallest mention of her friends was enough to get such a reaction from her. Especially after the lack of anything the whole day.
“ They do…?”
If Caine had a lip he'd bite it. He doesn’t know how to feel about that little tone in her voice. It was a strange feeling, hate perhaps? That sounds about right for him.“ … yes.” 
Pomni took a step towards him and the sound of her heel made him flinch. “ Could you … tell me more?”  that tone of voice was softer, innocent even. He felt such a physical reaction towards her at that moment-- did he want to attack her?
He took a deep breath to calm himself, then turned to her, his eyes stoic as ever, his arms crossed, looking down at her like he always has. “ Your little stunt talking to the performers yesterday was wreckless. After Jax learned that you were alive this whole time, he’s never wanted to kill you more than he ever has..”
“ Did he?”
“ You know i told them you were dead for your own protection. You’re much higher class compared to them now, Why in the world would you choose to mingle around those freaks? ” Caine spoke in such a scolding voice, but to his surprise, Pomni laughed… giggled, more so, but the way she had the back of her hand covering her mouth wasn’t expected.
“ Pfehehe… That's Jax for you… I remembered the first time he killed me during a performance-- when you wouldn’t punish him, Ragatha did…” 
She looked back up at him, warming up to him faster than what he was comfortable. Her eyes were big and warm. Her voice sounded euphoric and melancholy as if she could sit there and listen to every word he had to say.  
Caine couldn’t handle it. His urges disturbed him.
* (Continue?)
     > Stop while you’re ahead.
> Hear more about what your friends have been up to.
     > Hear more about what your friends have been up to.
“ A-and... what else did-?” like a trigger, Pomni reached over to touch his arm, and Caine retaliated by grabbing her by her wrists and moving her backward, to a door that opened and closed behind them.
Loading new area… TIP: Offering the brothers wine could help you gain their favor.
Pomni would be thrown inside the room, before turning back to the red ringmaster, who was locking the door in front of her. 
She looked around, a part of her was confused, and the other part was scared.
“ C-Caine?”
Without even turning around yet, Caine said sternly, like a command. “ Speak when spoken to.”
Pomni quickly nodded and stood straight, hands in front of her, formal like she had earlier that day. 
God… did she step out of line? God damn it, Pomni you screw up! Your master isn’t there to save you this time, what were you thinking??
What was he thinking?? She knew that he could get pissed off but being locked in a room with him was new. He could very well berate her outside, it wouldn’t make a difference! She looked down in thought, punishments ran through her head-- she thought of the ones she used to endure in the circus, and she bit her lip. She wasn’t ready to live through that again… maybe she could come up with an excuse! Think, Pomni, think!
After locking the door, Caine took a deep breath, as if preparing for something, and finally turned around.
He turned back to his brother’s doll, being as formal as ever, stood straight, well behaved… exactly how he trained her to be. 
What was wrong with him? Just a moment ago, he was getting along with his brother, the next, he was playing with his toys behind his back. What a rotten brother you are, Caine..
But there was just something about Pomni, it brought up feelings that he hadn't felt in a long long time… feelings that he remembered he felt strongly…and so who's to blame him for chasing something so strong? So curious? She was just a doll after all. Who cares?
“ Pomni, would you kindly tell me who I am?”
“ You are ringmaster Caine, an AI program set to entertain the audience. Praised like a god and one of the most powerful men in the digital realm.”
“ Now tell me who you are.”
“ My name is Pomni, a human transported to the digital world. I was a circus performer turned servant to the AI household. My purpose is to serve Ab-”
“That's enough.” just like Able, He put a hand up to tell her stop talking. The servant quickly turned silent. “ So Pomni, tell me. Why in the world, did you think that you were good enough to touch me?”
Caine was practically right in front of her; she felt claustrophobic. She was sure he could feel her breathing at this point. 
Pomni didn’t have an appropriate answer to that question. What reason does she have that wasn’t selfish? She swallowed, and in an effort for Caine not to read her fear, she kept her head down, trying to keep a calm voice.
“ I don’t know.”
“ You don't know.” Caine turned his head to the side, little sorry eyes looking down at Pomni. She flinched when he used a finger to turn her head up, and there was a part of her, a strong part of her that didn't mind what she saw.
“ What did he do to you, Pomni?”
The look on his face…
She missed it.
She missed it so much, she wanted it back.
She missed how he patronized her when she made a small mistake.
She missed when he forced her to go on adventures every day.
She missed running away from death, she missed the fear of her life flashing before her eyes, she missed Ragatha, Kinger, Gangle, Zooble, and Jax, she missed her friends.
At that moment she didn't want life to end here. She wanted to live again, she wanted to be anywhere but this god-forsaken hell hole. If her friends couldn't join her in heaven then she'd rather be stuck with them. There was nothing here. Nothing.
She’d much rather die every day rather than wishing for it everytime she woke up. She missed it. She missed her friends. She missed humanity.
The way he touched her felt like something she should be scared of, but within her fear, she ached for more. She liked how much he scared her. Even walking into the circus yesterday, the blood on the walls, she felt more humanity in those few hours than she had in the past few months and she craved it back. 
It wasn't too late to turn back now, she could still be fixed. 
He could fix her.
Caine kept staring. Was it worth it to lock her in a room just to gawk at her so shamelessly? Perhaps. He didn't think he could handle being seen indulging in something so below him.
Something about Pomni felt bittersweet. She was gorgeous, but dare he says he feels… sad… when he looked at her. He missed her duo-coloured tutu. The way how big her eyes got when she looked up at him.
He sighed, tilting his head to the side. He found his thumb caressing her cheek… she was so beautiful. So beautiful. If only he could take her to the circus for just one day. Have her perform and make him clap his hands. He sure would like to see her dance again.
And that look in her eyes…
Oh, that look in her eye was unmatchable.
Pomni held the hand that cupped her cheek, and the warm feeling only doubled in his head. He really wanted her back. He froze at how strong the urge was to just-- take her and steal her away. 
“ Brother? Pomni dear?” A voice just from outside the room called out. Able was back. And despite Caine’s unflinching stare, He knew he was back. He was willing to ignore him if it meant indulging in this old feeling for a little while longer, Pomni however… She was almost terrified.
She stared at the lock separating her master from seeing the strange sight, something that they both shamelessly indulged in. 
What was she doing? 
*(How does Pomni respond?)
     > Call out for Able
     > “ Take me back.”
     > “ Kiss me.” 🔒
     > Say nothing 
     >  “Take me back”
And in desperation, before his brother could find out they were there, Pomni bent down to her knees, grabbed Caine by his coat, and looked up at him. “ Take me back!” she said in a whisper.
“ What?”
“ Take me back!” she repeated just a little louder. “ I can’t stand another day here, how I long for your performances again- your shows! Let me perform for you and your people again, please!”
In an effort to make her stand up, he grabbed a hold of her hands, but he froze the more Pomni spoke. There she was, on her knees, praising him, telling him the words that hes wanted to hear for the past couple of months. It was addicting. He couldn't get enough.
He knew this was wrong, he couldn't possibly just take her back. But the more she praised his name, his brilliance, his art, he didn't want her to stop. He wanted to squeeze every pathetic plea from her… 
He wanted to hear every piece of praise, admittance of guilt, of regret in her voice. And the more she went the stronger the urge to just steal her and wisk her back to the circus. Good lord, it took everything in him. The hands on hers shaking in defiance of that strong urge. Shes making it so hard. 
She spoke and it threw him back to his old mindset. The progress he made with his brother was gone at that moment. He was RIGHT. He was correct this whole time. He had all the right to act the way he did. She DIDN'T like his brother, he knew it! He knew she liked him more! 
Oh she was saying more than enough for him to hear. At this point, she was just flattering him. And a part of him grieved her… 
It almost physically hurt him not to steal her for himself at that moment. His hands turned to stiffness-- everything in his body froze in an effort to stop himself from doing something he'd regret. 
No… he can't have her.
Caine signed the papers, and he can't turn back from it. Neither could she. 
If only she made that decision a few months earlier… everything would be so much easier.
With a sharp exhale, he snapped and Pomni was back on her feet.
Pomni looked back up and Caine turned away from her.
Click! The door unlocked 
Shaken voice, shaken knees, desperation she called out 
“ C-Caine-”
“ Brother! In here!”
The door unlocked and in came Able, hat on his chest. “ Oh, there you two are! What in heaven's name are you two doing in this little room? ”
Pomni was silent, holding back the amount of emotion in her heart. For a moment Caine glanced at her, but looked back to his brother. “ She just wanted to do a little cleaning while you were gone, make herself useful, you know.”
“ And you?” 
“ Am I banned from being around your toy now?”
“ No, no no no~” he hummed playfully and put his hat back on his head. “ Come, meeting time. Pomni, Im proud that you decided to do a little cleaning, but this room doesn't get used. No need, dear!” Able held her hand and escorted her out of the room…
Pomni stared at the floor and the men kept talking.
“ Say, why would you even let her clean that room anyway?”
“ She's your toy...”
But the ringing in her ear has never been louder… and the muffling of peoples voices has never been stronger. She was disassociated to the extreme. 
Even after begging, pouring her heart out, and putting her biggest weaknesses and desires front and center, she was met with… nothing.
Abandonment. 
She was screaming out for help but no god heard her plea. Not even the one in front of her.
She couldn't take it anymore but at the same time, there was nothing left to do. 
What can she do? 
In a world considered human, she was the most out of place. 
Another reminder: You aren't human anymore, Pomni. Time and time again you delude yourself into so much false hope. 
When will you ever learn?
Pomni doesn't remember what happened for the next few hours. She remembers the images of sitting with the brothers in the meeting room, cooking dinner for Able, and joining him while they ate, but as the world flew by around her, her mind stood still. 
Nothing was important anymore. 
This was her ending. 
This was her forever. 
The sadness left over has numbed. Time heals all wounds but each second felt like a stab to the heart.
There she sat, with Able at the manor’s living room. He was lounging, his coat off, finally being able to rest and recharge after a hard day of work. 
Pomni sat knitting, getting lost in her thoughts. Able provided the feeling of rain from the outside. 
It wasn't raining it was all artificial. It was just the ambiance of rain hitting the window and ceiling, the particles of rain outside, and making the atmosphere just a little colder. That was enough to trick the brain into actual rain. She bet if she reached her hand out the window it would come back dry. 
The sound of rain was an audio file not different from the sounds of birds she hears every morning. She memorized every chirp, what second another came in. But she looked outside and there was nothing there. Fake. 
In her early days, it was something she could brush off as just another quirk. Nowadays she let herself believe that all that artificial nonsense was real, perhaps, for the sake of her sanity. 
This time the sound of rain continued on, and she wore a blanket over her shoulder.
Pomni blinked and a tear fell down her cheek. She tried to wipe it off, but a sniffle gave her away.
“ What’s wrong, dear?”
“ I just… i miss my friends a lot, that's all.”
“ You still do, don't you? I understand it must hurt so much to be away from other humans…” he hummed, and put a hand on his chin in thought… and he came up with an idea. 
As Able stood up to put on his coat again, he spoke: “ Tell you what. I'm about to go and spend time with my brother, why don't we leave our phones with you, and you can talk with them for however long you like.”
Pomni looked up at him, “ You'd do that for me?”
“ I don't see why not. We won't be using it anyway. I'm sure my brother wouldn't mind just this once.”
He summoned his phone and the other side picked up. He would enter a conversation with his brother, and Pomni continued to knit tiredly, already half expecting it not to go through. She's had enough false hope today. 
But to her surprise, Able handed Pomni the phone and left it at the desk where she could reach it.
“ For you, dear.”
As Able was getting ready to leave, Pomni was waiting for the line. There was still a part of her that didn't believe it would pick up, but the way her feet shook in anticipation..
She did want to have this phone call…
“ Pomni?”
Pomni stopped for a moment…
It actually worked…
…Kinger,,,
Pomni was quiet… but before she could reply, Able, with a smile, had already teleported out of the room.
“ Hello? Is this thing on?”
“ Hi, Kinger...”
“ IS THAT POMNI ON THE PHONE??” a loud voice further in the phone called out.
“ Jax… let them talk…” the sound of a weeping voice rang.
“ Hey, kinger! While you're at it, do me a favor and tell Pomni to kill herself would’ja?”
“ Second that!” The happier mask added, and a slew of laughter rang on the phone.
“ I’m not telling her that..!”  Kinger in his shivering voice replied, he sounded fragile yet still annoyed. “ I'm sorry if you heard that Pomni, we're.. we're having dinner...”
And yet Pomni couldn't help but let out a little laugh. “ Was that Jax?”
Kinger joined her. “ Well of course, who else would it be?” He said kindly. “ Oh! And Ragatha says hi too.”
“ Y-Yeah? Hi, Ragatha! I-I hope you’ve been holding up okay.“
A pity chuckle from Ragatha on the other side, and Pomni felt her heart warm up to hear any sound from her … let alone a chuckle.
“ Ragatha’s asking if you're genuinely asking her that… wow, Ragatha you're really sassy today!
She shrugged.”
More chuckling from Pomni.
“ Anyway, I say hi too, Pomni. So. Hi!”
“ Hi, Kinger… it's really nice to hear from you again.”
“ How's everything in the brother’s realm? Have you been learning new recipes since yesterday? It must be so tasty compared to our dinner today, haha!” Kinger said again, as a joke, but Pomni bit her lip, voice trembling as she tried to hold back her tears.
“ Y…Yeah… I sure have.”
“ That’s nice to hear… maybe one day you could bring some for us. Even if you did have trouble cutting the meat.”
“ Haha… god, you remembered…!” 
Pomni’s voice this time further worsened, and she mentally cursed at herself for letting it slip out, though she prayed that Kinger wouldn't notice. 
This was NOT the time to cry, Pomni… god damn it, couldn't she hold a single conversation with out bursting into tears??
“ Oh… Why the sad tone?”
These tears were different compared to the ones that she had been crying for the past few days.
Back then she was crying over how bad she had it, now, she was crying over the broken promise for Kinger and Ragatha. She was grieving over having a good roof over her head while her friends had to fight for food. 
This was a whole new heartbreak. She was so ashamed, and frankly disappointed in herself that she couldn't get them out of their terrible situation. Kinger the sweetest man, and Ragatha one of the strongest people she knew, they were suffering and there was nothing she could do about it…
“ I’m so sorry, Kinger…” Pomni said, her voice starting to sob from over the phone.
But kinger couldn't put any amount of blame on her, and instead, he continued on with his soft voice. “It's okay, Pomni. To be honest, me and Ragatha… we're sort of… used to false hope, you know? We don't take anything to heart much anymore.”
Pomni sniffed and nodded her head, hearing what he had to say. It was a sad thought, but she had no right to argue with it.
“ Don't beat yourself up over it, Pomni. You weren't the one who put us here… You just wanted to live a better life, and you did… we would have all done the same thing if we were you...”
And there it was… the voice Pomni had been desperate to hear every time she cried. The motherly voice for her child-like tears. And like a child, she sobbed, while Kinger spoke in a tone like a mother wiping away the tears of her baby. For the first time in awhile, tears fell from her eyes and they actually felt heard. It all came flowing down and it was welcomed.
“ There there…” Kinger hummed. “ I can’t do much, but if you were here I’d take this tablecloth and wipe it over your eyes! Haha!”
Pomni laughed through her tears. “ I have napkins if that helps…”
“ Not as good as the dirty table cloth but that works.” Kinger joked, and Pomni wiped her tears away. “ But seriously Pomni, just be good… enjoy the freedom for us maybe. I can't speak for the others but i guess there is a sort of comfort in knowing that one of us made it out.”
“Okay…” Pomni didn't have the heart to truly promise that and mean it, but if the thought made Kinger happy, then shes happy to let him believe it. 
Kinger really was the only person she never really had a gripe with during her entire stay of the circus. He was pleasant to be around and minded his own business… Even with Ragatha, although she was great, they had a bit of unresolved tension… maybe they could somehow get to fixing it one day. After all, time was all she had.
One day.
For the next couple of years, for all eternity, Pomni’s days would repeat 
over. 
And over. 
And over again.
She will shed many many tears and cry herself to sleep, until she was physically unable to. She's going to experience a new flavor of agony that she's never experienced before. And she's going to cry harder tears than she's ever had before. 
But at that moment, at the time, on the phone she spent the little humanity she had left talking to the fellow abused, telling eachother white lies to keep eachother comforted and sane. 
They told eachother everything was going to be okay as their heart beats slowed down. And maybe that was all they needed. Maybe that was all they could do.
As they all died together, hushing each other and wishing each other goodnight might be the only thing they had left.
Good night, Pomni. 
Good night, Kinger.
Good night, Ragatha.
We'll see you all in the morning.
496 notes · View notes
ybklix · 3 days
Text
stressed out
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★ bang chan
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✦summary: Your session with Dr. Bang gets interesting when he kindly decides to relieve the stress you're carrying from the last days of university before the summer break, without knowing that all the tension in your body is due to the great desire you have for him.
✭ content - tags - warnings: smut, dr. chris bang x fem reader uni student, oral sex, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, slightly dirty talk and praise kink, use of nicknames.
word count: 7.7k
—masterlist—
a/n: yk me, a little story that leads to smut.
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It was your last day at the university, one more semester finished. You were so close to free yourself from that heavy semester at the university, but somehow you didn't feel so free at all, you were still worried about getting good grades, you knew you would pass everything without difficulty but you were a little demanding with your grades, so you were nervous, and you left your last class a little crestfallen, something that the rest of the students celebrated non-stop, you sighed, you had heard in the distance of the infinity of parties planned, the perfect vacations of the rest, but you could only think about packing all your things without worrying and your mother who would be waiting for you outside the university to spend the summer at home.
Despite being a bit stressed and upset about the soon to be released grades, you had dressed up to finish a cycle feeling cute; you had a nice outfit and your makeup intact so you thought about calling your friends to hang out for a while, who had skipped the last class downplaying it and self-assigning them the break, you checked your group chat and read that they would be in the coffee shop across the building if you wanted to join them... but in the midst of the campus and student chaos, you realized it was Friday. Friday. Of which usually aren't just those days for you. You knew so well what day it was in the morning so you picked the perfect outfit for it, but between the stress and caos of being the last day, you became unaware of the rest of your activities.
Every Friday, at least since this semester, since for a long time it used to be Wednesdays, you had counselor sessions with Dr. Bang, an overworked psychiatrist with four jobs at once, director of a mental institution, his own consulting room, professor and simply student counselor, Bang didn't want to take the big job of being a therapist for the students but upon detecting any alarming problem he was well within his rights to ask the student for professional help, with their cooperation and consent, clearly. You met Dr. Bang just at the worst time of your life, but the timing was perfect, he managed to break you out of a hole that seemed to have no way out.
You had a very painful loss just before finishing high school that altered your mental health completely, your father passed away and a month later you finished your high school studies, so that did not affect so much your streak of student excellence, by that time you had everything ready for admission to any university of excellence for which you applied. Until the university you always dreamed of accepted you and in a short time you were dealing with grief and the pressure and stress of a new place and environment, you moved away from home promising your mother to continue being a good student, but you were in a deep depression and had recurrent anxiety attacks, terrified that you were not good enough, which complicated your studies… and more when without thinking, you planned and considered leaned for health sciences, pushing you to the limit. You were so embarrassed because all your life academically you were a complete overachiever and suddenly you couldn't cope with college, you felt more awful, a total disappointment; so with a mediocre grades -for you- you passed the first semester and continued the next one, this time committing to do your best and going to therapy, plus your mom noticed the obvious alarming signs the few times she saw you during your winter break, she understood the magnitude of things and offered you to take a break, but you were not like that, you couldn't take it or you would feel things would get worse. You switched dorm buildings and that's when you met him… in one of the study halls near your building, one random Wednesday afternoon when you decided to study, 'Counselor Dr. Bang', engraved on the plaque on that door at the end of the hallway… it sort of caught your attention, you thought if counselors in high school was the same as in college and that if anything... he could give you more of a vocational orientation than a psychologist; since you had tried everything, your old study method, countless other techniques, going to study in groups with your smug classmates with superiority complex, but nothing worked for you to retain important information, you thought that maybe you needed someone mature who could guide you.
After that day, you tried to get together to study again in a group, exactly in the room of that building and out of mere curiosity you asked what in particular does 'Dr. Bang', to which you remember perfectly that suddenly all their eyes were focused on you, “Oh, he's also a psychiatrist, he helps a lot, from what I've heard”, you remember their answers.
You then asked how come you could get close to his help, but you were surprised by the sudden exaltation of one girl out of the other 3 in the group.
“Girl, don't go see Dr. Bang, he's mine” you remembered that time your classmate started joking. The others laughed however you found it strange.
“I'm not kidding, I'll finish med school and marry him,” the girl continued.
Another of your girl classmates replied, “Good luck with that. I don't think he would settle for just a girl finishing med school… I mean he has been working here for a while and he's never been known to have a single affair with a student or a recent graduate, you don't even know for sure if he has a wife or kids, he's very private. But I do hear he's important in every job he has.”
“For him I'll find the damn cure for cancer if that's what he wants…wait, when is he going to be our professor?”
“Mmm, I guess until senior…”
“I can't wait” replied the girl excitedly for Bang.
“I honestly don't think you'll make it until senior” added another girl there amused.
One guy rolled his eyes as he overheard the conversation and called for your attention to forget the little twisted comments, “He's really nice, you can go with him anytime, but… to have recurring sessions with him, I think you need to validate that you're really fucked up, since he has a pretty busy schedule.” You nodded, paying attention to him.
“Next week I'll prove I'm a psycho to see him all the time” the girl joked again.
That afternoon the other guys simply laughed, but in you a seed of curiosity had been planted and…. you didn't want to be rude, but their study group was not helpful to you and was not bearing fruit at all, so the next day you went to the mental health department of your university and requested meetings with Dr. Bang, while presenting your long history of appointments with your therapist and your difficulty with learning, so initially the manager suggested you go directly to a female counselor, to make you feel more comfortable... so you didn't have the slightest problem, however he mentioned that he would tell Dr. Bang, as he cleared each of his students beforehand and on Monday you received an email confirming your schedule with Bang on Wednesday afternoons.
And since then your adventure began in late February two years ago. It wasn't until you finally got in and met him that you understood all of your classmate's comments, he was an incredibly attractive and intelligent man. Bang was about to quit after considering working long enough as a counselor, he wanted to focus on less work and prioritize the ones he considered more important… as well as organize and relocate his social life, he wanted to focus on making a life, meeting a woman to marry since his last relationship lasted but was unsuccessful, one of the few things Bang was unsuccessful at was love, Bang was beginning to give up on the search for a relationship, and even considered devoting himself completely to his work and studying another specialty. To cope with the loneliness he used to have casual sex with naïve, young, pretty nurses that made them lose their sanity, but he never took anything seriously, until he met you. You made him stay and he didn't want to admit it, until recently.
Bang saw you, so helpless and vulnerable… and he found something in you that he had never felt before. He saw himself in you, an overachiever. Bang in his early days also had his problems that had caused him to lose focus on what he fought so hard to achieve. Listen to your story was like listening himself.
And so two years went by, he taught you absolutely everything he knew, having study sessions which motivated you and your meetings were reflected in your good grades… however, Bang's admirers found it a little strange that after so long he never officially discharged you, so they began to speculate small rumors that did not pass away from your classmates, but he couldn't, you both enjoyed each other's company so much. So just at the beginning of the year, he decided to move your typical Wednesdays to Fridays, when he usually did not attend the university, but he did it exclusively for you, plus being almost the weekend, students did not resort so much to the study hall, making your visits more discreet.
After so long, the two of you created a purely professional union… until recently, last year before your winter break, when the little flirtations finally began, the complicit glances, the double entendre comments, the slight friction when sitting so close to each other and… for the first time, this year, his touch towards you. He was always there, a year after your meetings you confessed to him your deepest sadness and the reason why your mental health and ability to concentrate were affected, to which he saw you as he had never seen you before, so bad and down, so that every anniversary of your father's death you made a small comment which Bang immediately comforted you and made you feel good, until a little over a month ago, you were more than sad, you were stressed in some way, you lived with the burden of knowing that your mother was sad and lonely, you wanted to focus completely on the university and you still had the pain of the departure of that someone, so Bang slowly persuaded you to tell him exactly how you felt and… slowly and gently he began to massage your shoulders, an act that surprised you but helped too much, you hadn't had contact or that kind of attention in years as you were too busy at school and suddenly the pressure of his fingers on your tense muscles felt so good; after massaging you, he said a little awkward and with a nervous chuckle if that was okay with you, so you couldn't agree more. And his massages continued, but the next time you felt it differently, maybe because you were ovulating and you really liked Dr. Bang, but from then on you left his office feeling aroused.
With him everything was easier for you, you felt that it was unfair to others, but you were still incredibly lucky to have him, every week he would sit with you and help you study every single complicated topics of extremely important subjects, he was your individual tutor, you admired him more and more, he was a know-it-all. Then you got to know more about his personality a little bit… he was quite kind and tender, a little bit strange, nervous and rambled too much with what he wanted to say but, he helped you so much that now you stood out among the whole student body and you even felt that you changed your habits, suddenly you were more tidy and… you would occasionally listen to his favorite music to feel close to him, even though you weren't, when you left that office you didn't see him again until your next session, you rarely saw him walking around the campus, but, it was enough time together that, you got to know each other so well as you slowly let out slight details about yourselves.
You didn't know if he would be there, you had no fixed thing to communicate on other than e-mail and it wasn't something that young people your age regularly use as a purpose of communication… you just waited for him to open the door, you were hesitant to knock… you had both said goodbye last time with a “see you next week” but you had completely forgotten that it would be the last day of school. The study room was a mess, more students celebrating and behaving childishly while you stood outside of your mature counselor's door, wanting to see him one last time before you went home, you knew Bang wouldn't be able to try anything with you so you don't want to waste energy trying to flirt but… seeing him was enough for you, living in the delusion of a life together kept you a little human and not just an academic machine.
You knocked on his door softly, with the same pattern of knocks you unconsciously put together over the years, two knocks, one second and the third knock. Your hopes didn't even manage to dampen, as he opened the door immediately and your nerves escalated out of all proportion. He smiled at you as he saw you, forming two soft dimples below his mouth, there you were, in front of him waiting for your session with him. You looked up to get a better look at him, Dr. Christopher Bang, looking so breathtaking and masculine, you wanted to let out a sigh but didn't let yourself do it. Bang stepped aside to let you pass and closed the door behind you.
You observed the place, his office decorated in gothic architecture just like the rest of the university, full of wood and bookshelves and, in his chair behind his desk, you noticed his medical gown overlapping on the back of it, you assumed he must have come from the hospital, Chris was wearing dark cloth pants, perfectly ironed white button down shirt, tight to his muscular body and a thin black tie. Just when you couldn't find him more attractive, it was only enough for you to turn to see him again, to make your heart race and your breathing become heavy, sometimes you wondered if for him it was visible the effects he had on you, after all he was the studied doctor.
“Welcome” he said softly.
You walked into the small living room area in his office, into his leather couches, the light was very bright from his large window behind his desk and in front of his living room.
“Hi” you replied, smiling lively.
Chris placed his hands behind his back and walked over to you.
“I thought you weren't coming today, weren't you supposed to be at some party celebrating your last day of school?” he teased you a little.
He always joked that you weren't the party type of girl, you liked to get drunk once in a while but a party full of sweaty college kids wasn't a fun or hygienic option for you, Chris found it adorable.
You let out a giggle and turned your whole body to face him.
“I couldn't miss my last session with you, Dr. Bang” you commented seductively to which Chris swallowed nervously, he was so turned on when you suddenly got that way but as an adult, he had to concentrate.
But even pretending to be flirtatious you couldn't hide your slight grimace at being stressed, your head hurt a little, and uselessly you thought that being with Chris would take the pain away eventually. He knew you so well that, his slight nervousness at being excited changed in a second to concern.
“Everything okay?” he changed his tone and softened the movement of his eyebrows.
You opened your eyes in surprise as he recognized something happening and sketched a smile. You sighed and walked a few steps to the elongated couch and plopped down.
“Yeah… just… same old same old, I'm worried about my grades” you replied worriedly.
Chris let out a chuckle, he couldn't believe the obsessive little monster he had turned you into, you were twenty one years old and you should be worrying about more banal things like… the launching of some celebrity's new makeup line, since makeup was one of the things you were interested in besides being the best.
“You'll do fine” he spoke sweetly to you. Chris was about to approach you but had another idea, heading to his little liquor area. “Well… if you won't go party with guys your own age, then I'll party with you, here's to another successful semester” you heard him say behind you followed by a sound of glass clinking softly.
You turned your body to see him pouring alcohol into two glasses. Your nerves escalated further, it was the first time you would have that kind of activity.
“What is it?” you asked curiously as you watched him attractively approach you with the two glasses ready.
Chris smiled sideways in amusement and sat down next to you, handing you your glass.
“Whiskey, but drink it slow, sweetie.”
You blushed immediately upon hearing him call you that, he gently raised his glass in toast and you clinked your glass with his. Chris didn't drink from his drink until you did, which surprised you. He watched you intently as you brought the glass to your mouth.
“Like this, slowly, and then quickly…” he said in concentration.
You watched him as you did it and found it so appealing, however you closed your eyes tightly grimacing in disgust as you felt the alcohol burn your throat, which distracted you completely. He let out a chuckle as he saw your expression and quickly drank his without difficulty, just a slightly grimacing with his mouth.
“It's a bit strong for many people” Chris added.
“It was for me” you replied pushing the glass away and setting it down on the small table in front of you.
“Are you stressed?” he said suddenly, trying to make conversation.
You nodded softly, running your tongue around your mouth trying to forget the taste of alcohol.
“You know I am… I'm really nervous about the grades, I think they'll be posted tomorrow.”
“Will you be here in the city for tomorrow?” he asked to which you softly shook your head, Chris didn't like that, he could see you every day… but you were a student and practically his patient, it was completely unethical. “And what will you do once you're back in your hometown?”
You smiled at him.
“I don't know, it'll be boring, I'll look for a job, I'll try to be useful.”
Chris looked you straight in the eye and blurted out without thinking.
“My consulting room needs a receptionist… I mean, it's a job and…. you can keep learning.”
He lied, but he could fire his receptionist without thinking if you took him up on the offer. You looked at him puzzled more however you didn't remark your expression so well.
“Dr. Bang… Sorry, I don't have anywhere to stay in the city” you confessed apologetically, not knowing what to say.
Bang lowered his gaze to the glass and his long fingers intertwined in it, he was dying to tell you that that wasn't a problem, you could stay with him as long as you wanted… but once again he had to set limits.
“Yeah, yeah, I know, sorry. Still the offer is well standing.”
“Thank you.”
“Feeling a little more relaxed already?” he asked again, you nodded. “You know… I still remember my last day of the semester when I was twenty-one, there was this party at Delta Psi fraternity… it was a little… weird, I hope things have changed now” he counted animatedly.
You frowned, ready to hear more of his anecdote and founding sweet that he wanted to distract you, but a loud knock on his door followed by noise from outside startled you. Chris sighed in annoyance.
“Will you excuse me?” he stood up, holding his tie and headed for his door.
You stirred in your seat, he looked so fine pissed off and backwards as he walked to the door. Once again you were beginning to tense up, but this time from sexual frustration.
“Can you please stop making noise? You are in college, behave accordingly, or go outside and make noise you want” exclaimed Chris, scolding those outside, he turned to you “Sorry… the noise.”
Chris locked the door as a reflex and sat down again next to you, this time closer to you, you were about to ask him and tell him to resume his anecdote, but you lost yourself in the closeness of his face, and you analyzed the harmony of it, his dark hair, his straight eyebrows, sharp and small eyes, his prominent and attractive nose in combination with his full pink lips; you tensed again and your heart beat got stronger. Chris admired you too, from your perfectly detailed face with makeup, even the nice outfit you were wearing, Bang licked his lips… feeling the tension and a myriad of dirty thoughts crossing his mind and everything he would do to you, if only he would put his morals aside. Chris recalled his vivid memories of being twenty-one… the gentleness and sweetness that girls that age tasted… Chris closed his eyes and gently turned his head away from you, trying to clear each of those thoughts. Of the anatomy of your pussy prostrate on his cock, of you in genupectoral position with the vulnerability of your ass and needy pussy at his mercy.
Fuck, Chris thought, for the first time in all your encounters -and in his entire career- he was getting hard, they were just innocent little flirtations… but just not today, today his body was betraying him as it never had before. Chris cleared his throat and reacted in seconds, he didn't want you to suspect something was wrong so… just this time he decided to put his morals aside and pay attention to his human needs and carnal desires. He was going to fuck you so good that would make you get a fucking apartment just to do it with him every day.
“I'm glad you're okay but…” he said slowly sitting back up and bringing his hands to your weak shoulders, “I still feel you a little tense.”
You almost sighed at his sudden touch, but it was true, your muscles were stiff from being so excited and unable to do anything; Chris wasn't an idiot, this was just a excuse to touch you but he got a big surprise to really find you stressed. But for you more than stress it was frustration.
Chris kept squeezing your muscles until he squeezed a little too hard, causing you to moan; that was it, that alone was enough for Chris to fully sexually arouse him, he was hard and, if it wasn't because you were so focused on yourself not to screw up and not look like a horny mess, you would notice that Bang was in the same situation as you.
“You're so stressed, honey, look at you” he spoke in a thick voice of which surprised you.
You had your eyes closed in embarrassment and it occurred to you to open them as you heard him a little different… concentrating to Chris looking at you with dark eyes of pure desire, weakening your body more in seconds, you saw his strong arms near your shoulders and…. unconsciously you looked down, finally discovering his prominent erection that surprised you at how big it looked. He was as aroused as you were.
“Fuck, y/n, you're so tense… I can feel it… all over your body…” he spoke again excitedly, making your attention focus on him.
You saw him bite his lip and started to lower his hands squeezing your arms.
“Are you stressed, sweetie?” he asked again, until his hands reached your thighs squeezing them.
“Yes” you moaned.
“You’re so tense, I can feel it… more in this place” Bang said squeezing your thigh and directing his fingers to your already wet pussy, “Let me make you feel good, babygirl” he moaned.
Your body jolted as you felt his hands gently spread your legs apart and brush his fingertips across your panties. You couldn't process that he had finally decided to cross that line, but it felt so good. You always wore only underwear under your skirt on purpose for Dr. Bang.
“Relax, relax, make yourself comfortable, babygirl” he spoke softly in his therapist voice combined with desire, making you lean your back against the back of the couch, “Spread your legs, let me make you feel good, are you okay with that?” he raised his eyebrows waiting for an answer.
“Y-yes” you gasped again.
Bang smiled sideways and quickly got down on his knees between your legs, he gently lifted your skirt and admired the fabric of your wet underwear from the situation.
“I'm going to take all the stress off you, okay babygirl?”
You nodded, completely blinded by desire as you watched your chest rise and fall heavily. Chris began to stroke your clitoris over the thin white fabric of your underwear, making you explode in pleasure with his fine touch, he squeezed your entrance and labia, gently stimulating them. You bit your lip trying not to gasp loudly, finally he pulled the fabric aside and looked with estimation at your entrance lubricating itself, so helpless and needy as he opened your folds, making you let out a high pitched whimper.
Chis licked his lips again hungrily, he had never seen another pussy as appetizing and juicy as yours, he was dying to taste it but wanted to focus on your pleasure. He slid down your panties, leaving you bare of your bottom part and you gasped as you felt the cool air brush against your throbbing, exposed pussy.
“Let me make you feel good” he repeated, stroking the length of your folds and labia, “Feels good?”
You nodded again with difficulty, you were beginning to tremble with overstimulation, Bang began stroking your clitoris again, leading to your body, satisfaction and little twitches. You saw his hand play with your pussy from your angle and how he smiled with satisfaction, the sensations were getting stronger and newer for you that you were feeling desperate and so good at the same time.
“Just relax your body, let yourself go, babygirl” he whispered in a low, lustful voice. “I'm going to stick two fingers in you, okay?”
“Yes” you said again this time more yielding, trying to relax your stiff body a bit more, at the same time struggling to keep your legs open as you had no fixed support to leave them on.
Chris again pulled your folds apart to get a better view of your soaking wet little entrance, making you shudder, he gently brushed your entrance and watched your every reaction, so excited and fighting your instincts, then he realized that seeing your pussy was not enough, he wanted to see all of you and touch every corner of your body. Chris stopped touching your pussy for a moment to which you felt as if something was missing. You saw him, his gaze conveyed desire, yet he didn't leave his gentle and sweet countenance.
“But first, babygirl, let your whole body calm down, go on, undress for me.”
You slowly sat up and toke off your blouse as you stared at him while he looked at you expectantly.
“That's it, good girl, undress. I'll do the same, alright?” you bit your lip and heat came to your ears and stomach as you heard him tell you good girl, unsure what he meant after that, you finally took off your bra as well.
Dr. Bang bit his lips at the sight of your bare chest and admired the shape of your tits with nerve and desire, you smiled slightly in satisfaction knowing you had him so turned on too and understood everything when you watched his hand go to his belt, all your attention focused on his deft long fingers unbuckling his belt and then opening the button of his pants, slowly sliding the zipper all the way down, and finding with his tight black boxer and his protruding hard bulge with little drops of precum, suddenly your mouth felt so lonely, you wanted to make him feel good too but didn't know how to say such boldness and, as anxiety consumed you, he finally pulled down his underwear relieving of his big wiggling and growing cock all by itself. You had never felt so eager for a cock this much in your life, you wanted to taste the softness of his red swollen tip coated in his precum and feel every pumping vein of his length. You thought his cock was so attractive and clean looking, just like the bearer of it.
Chris gasped at finally having his cock free, yet he would feel freedom and at the same time captivity when his member is buried deep inside you making you feel good. Only then would he be free, when your muscles completely relax and you overflow your sweet orgasm on him. He smiled mischievously as he saw you not taking your eyes off his cock, Bang knew clearly that he was well endowed and could hurt your tight sensitive hole if he didn't do it carefully, after all he knew perfectly well the anatomy of both sexes and knew the sensations of a big intruder inside a woman's vagina. Chris didn't want to take you and fuck you wildly, his whole life and career was based on discipline and dedication, so he wanted you to enjoy every second of what the sexual act entailed, besides he loved to help you in every possible way, you were always very well behaved with him, you innocently followed his little flirting game but never dared to throw yourself on him, he had to reward you somehow for your good behavior.
Bang came up to your face and looked tenderly into your eyes.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly and gently.
You looked into his eyes and then at his full lips in a second and, without even answering him, you joined your lips with his; you found it incredibly tender and ironic how he could ask you such a thing when he had literally seen and touched your pussy just a few minutes ago, plus you looked so docile and submissive, it was clear that you were willing to whatever he wanted to do with you right now, you were so vulnerable. Chris took your face with his left hand which was slightly clean of your fluids, trying not to let his fingers fall completely on your face and gently pulled you away from his lips for your impulsive action, he gave you small sweet sounding kisses, feeling every particle of your organ, enjoying every second as he always dreamed of feeling them and then he kissed you passionately, so intense and united that you felt the pressure of his nose on your face, and made you open your mouth wider to boldly explore your cavity, and feeling your tongue, managing to elicit from both of you heavier gasps and breaths. With his right hand he caressed your neck a little and moved it down to your breasts and nipples, you were so excited and sensitive that you were afraid of cumming at any moment. His nimble hand continued down to caress your pussy again, this time making you moan between the intimate act you were both sharing and leaving you breathless, so he pulled away from you, now moving his mouth caresses down your neck to your sensitive tits, kissing, licking and sucking them delicately while his left hand was in charge of feeling the other one. His hot kisses moved down with his hand, as he kissed your abdomen, his hand squeezed your waist and his grip stopped at your left thigh, until his lips reached your mons pubis where he finally pulled away from you a little after kissing you gently.
Chris happily watched your expression of pleasure, your eyebrows down and your slightly open mouth; his thumb took care of stimulating the sensitive spot of your clitoris as he gently rubbed, once again, along your labia and without warning and with agility, he inserted two of his long digits that you had previously allowed, into your tight entrance, to which you whimpered in shock and pleasure.
Chris could take no more, his cock throbbed more and more with increasing intensity, but he had to hold out a little longer, as he knew that female pleasure could last longer and had to be carefully worked into it. He skillfully fucked your insides, exploring and feeling his fingers slide into the softness of your walls as you gasped with pleasure, harder and harder.
“Shhh, just keep a little quiet, okay, babygirl? I won't stop and I'll keep making you feel good until you cum” he whispered to you.
You pressed your lips together and bit them hard, just emitting gasps full of air coming from the strength in your chest. He was right, you had forgotten all about it once he started touching you, there were people outside his office… and a large window next to you, yet you were on a second floor and between his large desk obstructing the view, you couldn't see clearly.
Chris continued to turn you on and take such good care of your pussy while his fingers were in you; you felt on cloud nine but every now and then you thought if he would let you taste his cock or if you would feel it inside you today, you needed him so bad, your pussy throbbed just thinking about it.
“One more finger, okay?” gasped Chris inserting his ring finger before you could even answer him.
You whimpered again trembling a little in pain, you wanted him to fuck you all at once, you felt incredibly tense and excited that you were no longer thinking straight, but Chris just wanted to get you ready before he was inside you.
“Fuck my fingers, babygirl, c'mon, move on them” he groaned, looking at his fingers stuck in your pussy, then looking at you while you felt his hot breath near your cunt.
You brought your left hand near your mouth trying not to moan so loudly and started to move your hips enjoying his fingers inside you.
“Fuck” you whispered excitedly feeling his bony fingers moving and touching your internal organ.
“Good girl, you're doing it so good, fucking my fingers so well, you're such a good girl, are you enjoying it, sweetie?”
You gasped in response unable to formulate words. Chris smiled proudly, bit his lower lip and inhaled air between his teeth watching the obscenity of his hand at your entrance and your sweet fluids escaping.
“Fuck, you're so fucking wet, look at you. I'm gonna make you feel so good babygirl, I'm gonna taste you” he warned you almost in a whimper.
With his free hand he positioned your tired legs on his broad strong shoulders, bringing his face close to your pussy and, leaning a little closer, he pulled out his thick hot tongue running it all over your wet vulva making you explode, closer and closer to your orgasm. Chris gently sucked on your labia and withdrew his fingers from your entrance splashing some of your liquid on his chin.
“Mmm you taste so fucking good, babygirl, what the fuck, so good” he whispered.
Suddenly Chris found himself lost deep in your pussy, he was so loaded of you and he was enjoying it too much, giving you off little vibrations as he tasted you with his hot 'mmh', making your legs tremble, you were so close to orgasm finally. He continued, placing little kisses on your clit and with the tip of his tongue stimulating you quickly in a series of motions, you were so desperate you didn't know where to rest your hands calmly, so you directed your right hand to his head, stroking his hair for the first time. Chris caught your gaze instantly as he felt your hand in his hair and he stared at you as he tasted your clitoris and with one finger gently penetrated your entrance.
You broke eye contact with him as you again felt his tongue and lips run down the length of your folds, you closed your eyes in pleasure and shook your head ready for your orgasm that was slowly contracting in your body. Bang continued, never leaving your sensitive spot once he withdrew his tongue of it, his fingers now caressing it as he was lost in the glorious slurping sound of his mouth in your pussy, until he reached your entrance, parting your folds for better access of his tongue, making you scream, he was eating you out so well you wanted to cry.
You couldn't hold it in any longer and finally released all the tension, climaxing in his mouth as you held back your gasp biting down hard on your lip. Chris pulled away and watched in detail your glistening fluids slide out and your hole throb, he smiled and took it upon himself to clean you, running his tongue one last time before standing up. Cleaning himself around his mouth too, licking his lips.
“I'm gonna fuck you, now, alright?” he moaned, his cock was still hard and needy and his precum droplets ached to come out as he was holding back his orgasm.
You saw his sex, so foreplayed and red; you began to get excited and lubricated yourself again by the obscenity of his cock. Chris accommodated your body, putting your head on the couch cushion and doing his best to make you very comfortable and positioned his body over you, he spread your legs a little more and you saw his tender but intimidating expression of concentration as he inserted his cock into your hole. Bang was a doctor with a specialty, he knew fucking well he was about to have unprotected sex, but he was so lost between desire that, feeling your insides with his fingers and tongue was not enough, his sensitive and swollen cock had to feel it on its own to check how good you feel, thus bare, he wanted all his discharge in you, your vagina unrecognizing his sperm and, he seeing it struggling to squirt the unknown cum, he wanted to fill you completely for being so good with him and studying so hard, you deserved it, finally a great break. And you, always so dedicated, were more than willing to feel Dr. Bang's raw cock inside you.
You gasped and shuddered as you felt his cock enter you, Bang gasped at the sensation of your hole slowly opening to make way for his cock, it was huge, you knew it and you were feeling it, but you still wanted every inch of him in you. Chris had inserted half of his hard limb and you were already gasping with pain and pleasure.
“God, you're so tight, so fucking tight, I want to fuck your pussy so bad” Chirs spluttered panting and excited, bringing out the vein in his neck and forehead.
And slowly, he entered into you fully until you felt his balls gently rubbing against your pussy, you let out a stifled little whimper, even inside you, you could feel his large size and you noticed him bulging in a soft lump in your belly. Chris began to slowly penetrate you, his whole cock inside you, thrusting his hips; you whimpered at the sensation and held yourself entwining your arms around his back still wearing his shirt, feeling the tingle of his tie as it fell and brushed against your chest. He moved his body closer, brought your foreheads together for a moment, staring at you as he kept ramming your pussy hard and sweetly kissed your lips, pulled away from you and positioned his head in the hollow of your neck, feeling and hearing his hot, light moans, turning you on more and, when you thought you were completely sexually satisfied, you felt his hand caress your clit, causing you to reflexively close your legs, squeezing his broad lower torso. Your pussy was so sensitive to every movement and stroke of Chris's cock, you felt his thrusts change a little as you were mindful of the sensation of his cock sliding through your core, you sighed, you were so stressed that you couldn't moan so loudly at the feel of his big dick. The sound of both wet sexes colliding was so obscene, both of you completely devoted to each other.
“You feel so good, fuck, y/n. Moan for me softly.”
Chris loved the feeling of your tight walls squeezing his cock, and your small orifice dilating adapting to his size, after minutes of the incredible sensation, Chris could feel your second climax close; but only this time he would 'punish' you, as he also fantasized about you fucking him yourself, he wanted to see you so overwhelmed jumping on his cock; so he suddenly pulled out of you causing a small mess of your fluids.
“I want you to fuck me babygirl, sit on my cock please” he asked you demanding but soft.
You bit your bottom lip as you watched Chris sit up, you stood up and, quickly Bang found the zipper of your skirt, unzipping it and making it fall gracefully, finally leaving you naked, which made him lick his lips lusting after you; you spread your legs and positioned yourself over his lap, you took his wide hard cock with your left hand to guide it to your entrance as you held onto his shoulder. Chris smiled admiring your flushed cheeks and your face of concentration, until you both gasped once feeling joined; first you slid his glans and then you let yourself fall completely on his cock, squeezing down to your cervix, you were one hundred percent sure that your poor vaginal canal was no match for Chris's cock length, who you looked at and also had a moaning expression on him, you admired again his closeness, every small and almost non-existent pore of his well-kept face and the roughness and manliness of the texture of his neck, you also wished to see him completely naked so you awkwardly played with his tie trying to take it off.
“Do you want to unbutton my shirt, sweetheart?” he said tenderly noticing your actions.
You nodded encouragingly, “Yes, Dr. Bang.”
Chris was turned on by you speaking to him formally, making his cock throb more of which you resented inside and let out a moan. He loosened his tie, tossed it aside and helped you unbutton his shirt faster, exposing his muscular, hard-working body.
“Move for me, ahh, that's right, good girl.”
You began to stir yourself on his cock, moving with it all the way to his testicles sweetly squeezed by your weight, as you held onto his marked pecs and gradually lifted your body to keep a rhythm to the frantic bouncing on his cock. You eagerly and between gasps felt his cock rise and fall up and down the tract inside you, trying to take it all, making you sweat a little from your exertion. Chris squeezed your waist tightly, helping to propel you forward.
“Oh that's it, fuck me, you're doing excellent, good girl, fuck, taking so well my cock” he whimpered as his eyes were fixed on your tits moving and his cock burying into your tight pussy.
His words turned you on more and encouraging you to keep going. Accelerating your squats more and more, causing Chris to widen his eyes in surprise, increasing the intensity of his heartbeat and suffocating his cock more.
“Fu-fuck, I-i'm gonna cum inside of you, I'm gonna fill your pussy like the good girl you are.”
Chris let go himself completely, he had held back his orgasm long enough so followed by shuddering whimpers, he ejaculated inside you, feeling his warm shot of cum; you were so close too, which he could predict so he continued to praise you softly.
“Keep it up, beautiful, cum on my cock, come on, you can do it.”
You buried your nails a little into his chest and cum, spilling your second orgasm down the length of his cock, making both of you a mess, your combined fluids slipping and sliding down his balls and lightly onto his thighs. You both tried to catch your breath. Chris remained holding you tightly around your waist so that you stayed right there and so on top of him, he didn't want to give up the feel of your core in him, he wanted a little of cockwarming in you.
“Wow… that” Chris tried to say, slowly coming back to his senses, realizing he had finally fucked you, reality suddenly hit him, you were still sitting on his cock and over his lap with your cheeks red and your babyhair slightly tousled and glistening in a minimal layer of sweat from your exertion, he let out his typical nervous chuckle, “…that was wonderful. You know… anytime you need help relaxing, we can do it whenever you want. Maybe next time you can do all the noise you want.”
You stared into his eyes perplexed that he had just implied that from now on, you could fuck anytime you wanted.
“But you'll leave tomorrow, right?” he spoke again.
You nodded disappointed, he was right, you had to go back to your hometown tomorrow; you sighed and hugged him gently, leaning your head on his shoulder, tired and breathing in his scent, thinking you didn't want to leave him, your summer would be boring anyway, you needed him, the feeling of his cock inside you, filling you up felt so good, you were going to miss him. You've never had your stress taken away like that before.
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dividers by chilumitos ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡
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gibberishfangirl · 2 days
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WIND BREAKER | when you wear someone else’s jacket
Synopsis ✰ how they react when they notice you wearing a piece of clothing that isn’t theirs
Characters ✰ Hakura Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama
Contains ✰ sfw! slight possessive behavior, tiny amount of jealousy, little bit of territorial behavior, minor pda, content of the boys being tested in a way?
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Hakura Sakura ᡣ𐭩
Sakura knew something was off but couldn’t exactly pin point what it was. you went in for a hug since you haven’t seen your boyfriend all day. it was while he was in your embrace he inhaled a scent, a masculine smell that wasn’t yours or his, his eyebrows immediately furrowed. once you pulled away he examined your body, you looked fine, no visible marks, your outfit was normal… except for that over sized sweatshirt that was draped over your body.
“where’d you get that from?” he asked completely cutting off your babbling. you frowned over his abrupt interruption to your story. he didn’t even look sorry that he ruined your story just blankly staring at you until you opened your mouth to answer.
“a friend from class gave it to me, i was cold.” you answered confused why he was making it a thing. Sakura wasn’t the type to get jealous, it hadn’t even crossed your mind that something like this would ever bother him.
“what friend? boy or girl?” huh, what type of question was that? why would he ask that? there’s no way he could be bothered by something so small, right?
“uhm… a boy? does that matter?” you asked with your eyebrows slightly raised. you had never seen Sakura act so… weird? not over something like this.
“no, just curious.” he finally muttered out after what felt like a lifetime pause. the two of you continued your walk back home in silence. the entire time Sakura couldn’t fight off that frown setting on his perfect face. his eyes were stuck in a trance on you, more like that sweater on your body. you felt your entire body heating up by his intense stare.
you let out a sigh, getting the hint he was clearly upset over the sweater. you stopped in your tracks and pulled the sweater off your body. your boyfriends face immediately perked up after seeing you take it off. he was secretly grateful you did that because he was very unsure how to go about the conversation. before you even knew it, he was already taking off his jacket and putting it on you. you blushed at his action, it wasn’t something you were expecting him to do.
“just come to me whenever you’re cold from now on. i’ll warm you up.” he softly says with the warmest blush spreading across his face.
Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩
Umemiya is rather calm in most situations so something like this doesn’t necessarily trigger him into doing anything drastic. he didn’t think much of it, until you kept wearing it for the rest of the day— then he started thinking ‘it seriously can’t be that cold, take it off already.’ he didn’t want to ask you whose jacket it was since he didn’t want to come off as jealous… even if he is. one thing he did know for sure was that everyone knew you two were dating. he couldn’t help himself anymore before he started taking off his jacket and removing the one you were wearing. he did it so quickly you almost didn’t even get the chance to register what he did. before you knew it his jacket was wrapped around you. you opened your mouth to ask—
“i just thought you’d look better with mine on.” he cut you off before smiling. his words caused you to blush.
“thank you.” you mumbled still registering what had just happened. he took your hand and interlocked it with his own and continued your walk home.
“who’s jacket is it? i’ll make sure to return it for you.” he smoothly says trying to pry the information of who gave it to you in a subtle way. at least, his version of subtle.
“oh- hm i actually don’t even remember. i almost forgot i was wearing it.” you’re confused now since you actually can’t remember who gave it to you. you stopped in your tracks, deep in thought trying to remember. “ah! i remember now, don’t worry about giving it to her. I can do that myself.” you exclaimed happily as you finally remembered the nice girl who lent it to you. she said it was her older brothers but she was always stealing his jackets and hoodies.
“oh good, i’m glad to hear that.” he smiled as you reached out to grab the jacket from his hands. he was relieved to hear that the jacket was from an innocent classmate of yours.
Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩
as if anyone could even beat Suo into giving you a jacket before he does. Suo had already noticed the way your body was slightly trembling underneath the vent of the air conditioner. however, he also noticed another boy in the corner of his eye looking at you as well. he saw as the boy already begun taking off his jacket and making his way up to you. Suo suddenly felt this urge of territorial dominance creeping up as he wanted to show that you were his. before the boy could reach you Suo wrapped his arm around your chair and pulled your seat/desk closer to his.
“my poor baby, you’re cold. let me warm you up.” he offered with a smile before pulling you into his arms. your body instantly warmed up due to his own warmth. you happily accepted his offer as you buried yourself against his chest meanwhile he hugged you and rubbed your back with his warm hands.
Suo turned to look at the boy who already walked away after noticing you had a boyfriend to keep you warm. he let out a small sigh before keeping you huddled up on his side for the rest of class.
Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩
he didn’t even realize the jacket you were wearing wasn’t yours. it looked so perfect and well fitted on you he actually thought nothing of it. the two of you were spending the whole day together and he said nothing about it. until you took it off and he noticed the name on the tag wasn’t yours.
“this isn’t your jacket?” he finally asked looking closer at it.
“oh no. it’s my friends, she let me borrow it after i forgot to bring mine.” you admitted slightly embarrassed you forgot to bring a jacket.
“i thought it was yours this whole time…” he paused, he was unsure of what to feel. should he be jealous? is it not a big deal? should he offer his instead? he decided to listen to his gut feeling. “are you still cold?”
“a little i guess, her jackets pretty thin so i can still feel the air through it.”
“here, take mine instead.”
“thank you.”
“of course! ask me for my jacket next time you’re cold, i have no problem giving it to you.” he smiled before taking your friends jacket and carrying it for you. Nirei didn’t actually care about you wearing someone else’s jacket as long as you weren’t cold, however, he still would prefer seeing you in his jacket before anyone else’s.
Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩
“take that thing off.” Togame wasted no time expressing his feelings about you wearing another man’s clothes. in all honesty, it irked him way more than he liked to admit. his mind was racing with thoughts of who would be stupid enough to give you their jacket, knowing that you’re his girlfriend.
“huh?? why? i’m cold.” you pouted not wanting to remove the soft material off of your body.
“it’s ugly, you don’t need it. take it off.” his voice was way more stern this time. a small part of you wanted to stand your ground and say no. however, a much larger and smarter part of you knew it was better not to. you took off the jacket with a frown before he snatched it away from your hands.
“wear this instead, my girlfriend shouldn’t go around wearing other men’s clothing.” he scolded while handing over his Shishitoren jacket to you. you wanted to argue but you couldn’t help blushing at his possessive behavior. it shouldn’t have such a strong affect on you but it does.
“who gave it to you anyways? give me a name.” he ordered while scoping out the jacket. it looked strangely familiar but he couldn’t exactly remember where he’s seen it before.
“it’s Choji’s jacket. he offered it to me and said I can keep it until I find you.” you answered with a bright smile. Choji’s gesture meant no harm since he was just trying to look out for his best friend’s girlfriend. he knew Togame wouldn’t have an issue if he knew it was his jacket. yes, you were well-aware of the fact that Togame was only mad because he thought it was someone else’s jacket.
“oh.” the realization settling in as his whole demeanor changed into something more relaxed.
“yes, oh.” you giggled. you could’ve told him sooner that it was Choji’s but where’s the fun in that?
“you called Choji’s jacket ugly.”
“shut up, you should’ve said something sooner.”
Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩
Choji’s mood went from 100 to 0 real quick. his very bright and wide smile getting wiped off his face as his eyes landed on the jacket you were wearing. you tilted your head in confusion to his sudden mood shift. he was usually ecstatic to see you, you couldn’t help but sadden at the lack of emotion he was expressing towards you. were you two in the middle of a fight? had you argued with him and forgot? you didn’t know why he reacted like that. Choji walked up towards you and swiftly took off the jacket from your body. it happened so fast you couldn’t process what even happened. the emotion of confusion stayed in your body as he walked past you with the jacket thrown over his shoulder.
Choji made it his business as leader of Shishitoren to know everything and everyone. as soon as he saw that jacket on you he knew exactly who it belonged to. once you snapped back into reality you chased Choji down slightly worried about what he was planning to do. you found him with the guy who offered you the jacket by the Ori. you watched from a distance as Choji roughly chucked the jacket to the sitting boy’s face. the boy immediately stood up ready to defend himself.
“keep your filthy jacket to yourself and off my girlfriend from here on out.” Choji spat completely unamused by the whole situation. before the boy could even defend himself, Choji’s dark glare silenced him causing him to sit back down before muttering out a small “i understand.” he truly meant no harm by giving you his jacket but in hindsight he really should’ve known better than to do something so stupid. especially when considering you’re his leader’s girlfriend. Choji left it at that, it was his way of showing mercy and restraint.
“oh, you’re here.” he smiled once noticing you at the end of the street. before you could even respond he clashed himself against your lips roughly deepening the kiss as he practically shoved his tongue down your throat. you felt your face getting red, Choji typically wasn’t so affectionate in public, you knew he was doing this to prove a point. your grip tightened around his shirt before you pulled yourself off, small pants escaping from your lips.
“Cho-Choji you can’t just do that.” you argued extremely flustered.
“sorry! i forget you can get so shy, my pretty girl.” he smiled before softly giving you one more kiss. he had no doubt that the boy who gave you his jacket and his friends had all watched your little display of affection. he didn’t mind them watching, he wanted to remind everyone who exactly you belonged to. Choji wrapped an arm around your waist before pulling you closer as the two of you walked off.
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THIS CHAN?? I WENT FERAL???!????
anyways 🤭 imagine you taking chan and him forcing you to look into the mirror behind the bed as he absolutely destroys your sweet little cunt😼
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Ohh believe me, that pic made my thoughts run wild already so thank you!! Your request hasn't left my mind all morning so yeah...this happened real quick😂🖤
Right here with you, always
Pairing: Chan x femReader
Word Count: 1915
Warnings/Tags: fluff, smut, p in v, unprotected sex
A/N: Hope you like it, love🖤
do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©writingforstraykids 2024-
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The cobblestone streets of Milan seemed to sparkle under the golden hues of the early evening sun as you and Chan made your way through the city. Milan was pulsing with life, its vibrant energy matching the excitement in your heart. Chan had invited you to join him on this glamorous outing, blending the worlds of high fashion and intimate togetherness.
You watched him from the corner of your eye, admiration blooming inside you. He was dressed in a blue shirt that highlighted the warmth of his eyes and complemented his dark hair. Chan suggested dinner at a small, elegant restaurant known for its secluded ambiance and exquisite Italian cuisine. Over plates of creamy risotto and perfectly aged wine, you shared stories and dreams, his laughter blending harmoniously with the soft notes of a violin playing somewhere in the background.
As the sky deepened into a velvety blue, Chan took your hand, leading you out into the enchanting night. Milan at night was a different kind of beautiful; the lights of the city reflected in the gentle ripple of the canals, the air filled with the subtle aroma of blooming jasmine. Walking through this cityscape with Chan, you felt as if you were part of a living canvas, every step painting a stroke of memories in your shared story.
Eventually, the night led you to his hotel, a place of refined elegance. Inside, the world quieted down to just the two of you. Chan guided you to the sofa in his suite, a soft, inviting piece that seemed to echo the plush luxury of your surroundings. As you settled into the comfort of the sofa, he pulled you gently into his lap, a smile playing on his lips.
“You look so beautiful tonight,” you whispered, your hands tracing the lines of his muscular arms, feeling the strength that lay beneath his soft shirt. “This blue shirt… it’s perfect on you. It makes your eyes look like chocolate; deep and endlessly sweet.”
At first, Chan blushed, a shy smile curving his lips as his gaze flickered away. It wasn't often that he heard such open adoration, even from you, his partner. Yet, the honesty in your voice and the warmth in your eyes encouraged him to accept your compliments. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, his own confidence growing with the realization of how much you needed him in this moment.
“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured, his voice a soft rumble against your ear. His hands were gentle but firm on your back, making every nerve in your body sing with a pleasant tension. The room around you seemed to fade, the sounds of Milan's nightlife a distant echo to the intimacy that unfolded between the two of you. “Love how pretty you look in that dress,” he told you, hands fondling up your thighs and below the skirt. “Love how your body always searches mine,” he confessed, biting back a soft groan as you pressed down against him.
His lips met yours in a fierce kiss, hand shooting up into your hair. You kissed back eagerly, grinding down against him with soft, needy sounds. Chan's grip on your hair tightens, his hips chasing yours with a low groan.
As the kiss deepened, your senses overwhelmed by the gentle yet insistent passion between you, the world outside seemed to vanish completely. Chan’s hands moved with a tenderness that contrasted and complemented the growing intensity of the moment. He was skilled, knowing exactly how to make you feel cherished and desired all at once.
Your panties met the floor as Chan lifted his hips, shuffling his pants down enough to free his aching dick. He made quick work of preparing you, stretching you out with his fingers and kissing down your neck hungrily. You sunk down on him soon, moaning out loudly as he stretched your fluttering walls just right.
Chan's hands found your hips, steadying you in his lap as he started thrusting into you. “Fuck,” he whispered needily. “You feel so good, baby girl,” he told you, setting a fast pace.
You matched his rhythm, your movements fueled by the shared desire that connected you. The heat of the moment intensified, your bodies moving in sync as you rode him, each thrust deepening the bond between you. Chan’s eyes were locked onto yours, the intensity in his gaze making you feel both powerful and utterly vulnerable at the same time.
“Chan, please,” you whispered, your voice breathy and filled with raw emotion. “Don’t stop.”
“I won’t,” he promised, his voice a mix of passion and reassurance. His grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts growing more urgent. “I’m right here with you, always, pretty girl.” You hid your face in his shoulder, embarrassed of the weak sounds he pulled from you with each thrust. Chan's hand sunk into your hair, pulling you back up. “I want you to look at yourself,” he said, nodding at the mirror wall right behind him. “Want you to see how pretty you are like this.”
“Channie,” you whined softly but did as he told you. “Fuck,” you whimpered as his pace fastened, making you bounce on him.
His grip on your hips was firm as he guided you up and down, his thrusts growing more insistent with each passing second. The sight of yourself in the mirror, bouncing on his lap, your dress hitched up around your waist, your face flushed with pleasure, was almost too much to bear. The raw intensity of the moment made you feel exposed yet profoundly connected to Chan.
"Do you see how beautiful you are?" he murmured, his voice a low, guttural whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "Do you see how perfect you are for me? Only for me?"
The combination of his words and the image in the mirror heightened your senses, your body responding to him with an urgency that bordered on desperation. Your hands clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you rode him harder, the rhythm of your movements becoming frantic.
"Yes, Chan," you gasped, your voice catching in your throat. "I'm yours."
Chan's eyes never left your face, his gaze filled with a mix of adoration and raw desire. "Good girl," he praised, his hands guiding your movements with a steady, unrelenting pace. "I want you to feel everything, baby girl. I want you to feel how much I need you."
His words pushed you closer to the edge, your body trembling with the intensity of your impending climax. "Chan, I'm so close," you moaned, your head falling back as the pleasure built to a crescendo.
Chan growled softly, reaching down between your bodies and playing with your clit. The touch sent shivers up your spine, making you arch into him with a loud, whimpery moan. “Such a good girl,” he moaned, thrusting into you harshly, feeling his own climax creeping up on him.
“Please, Chan~,” you almost sobbed, a little overwhelmed by all the pleasure coursing through your body. “Need to - please.”
"Let go for me," he urged, his voice thick with emotion. "Let go, pretty girl. I've got you."
With a final, powerful thrust, you shattered, your release washing over you in waves of pure ecstasy. Your cries of pleasure filled the room, mingling with Chan's own groans as he followed you over the edge, his body tensing beneath you as he found his release.
You collapsed against him, both of you breathless and spent, your bodies trembling from the intensity of the experience. Chan's arms wrapped around you, holding you close as you both came down from the high.
"You did so well," he murmured, pressing soft kisses to your hair. "So beautiful, so perfect."
You snuggled closer to him, feeling a deep sense of contentment and love. "Thank you, Chan," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. "For everything."
He smiled, his eyes softening with affection. "Always, baby girl. Always."
The world outside the hotel room was a distant memory, the night in Milan a backdrop to the profound connection you shared with Chan. As you lay in his arms, the city lights twinkling outside the window, you knew that no matter where life took you, moments like these would always bring you back to each other.
-
Later, after you had both cleaned up and settled into the luxurious bed, the quiet intimacy continued to envelop you. Chan's gentle touches and soft murmurs of affection filled the space between you, making even the simplest moments feel special.
"Do you remember our first trip together?" Chan asked, his voice a soft rumble in the darkness.
You smiled, recalling the memory fondly. "Of course I do. How could I forget? It was magical."
"It was," he agreed, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm. "But this... tonight... it's even better."
You turned to face him, your eyes meeting in the dim light. "Why do you say that?"
"Because we're here together," he replied simply, his voice filled with sincerity. "Because every moment with you is better than the last."
Your heart swelled with love for him, and you leaned in to kiss him softly. "I feel the same way," you whispered against his lips. "Every moment with you is a gift."
As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you knew that no matter what challenges or adventures lay ahead, you and Chan would face them together, your love growing stronger with each passing day.
-
The next morning, the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. You woke up to the feeling of Chan’s fingers gently tracing patterns on your back, his touch a comforting presence.
“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice still husky with sleep.
“Good morning,” you replied, turning to face him. His eyes were warm and filled with love, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.
Chan leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. “How did you sleep?” he asked when he pulled away.
“Perfectly,” you said, your heart swelling with happiness. “How about you?”
“Best sleep I’ve had in a long time,” he admitted, his smile widening. “Being with you always makes everything better.”
You snuggled closer to him, savoring the peaceful morning. “I feel the same way,” you confessed, feeling a deep sense of contentment.
As the morning progressed, you both took your time getting ready, enjoying the relaxed pace of the day. The streets of Milan called to you, promising new adventures and memories to be made. But no matter what the day held, you knew that the connection you shared with Chan would remain the most beautiful part of your journey together.
-
Walking through the bustling streets of Milan once more, hand in hand with Chan, you felt a profound sense of gratitude for the love and happiness you had found. The city seemed to sparkle with the promise of new experiences, each moment adding to the rich tapestry of your shared life.
Chan squeezed your hand gently, his eyes reflecting the same joy that filled your heart. “Ready for another day of adventures?” he asked, his voice filled with excitement.
“Absolutely,” you replied, smiling up at him. “As long as I’m with you, I’m ready for anything.”
And with that, you both stepped forward, ready to embrace whatever the day had in store, knowing that together, you could conquer the world.
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MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES
Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):
@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143 @sapphirewaves @slutforchanlix
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samsm2mstories · 1 day
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German bodies
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What a lot of people don't realise that on this planet, there's a hybrid version of humans amongst the population. I'm one of the lucky ones who has a normal human life with extended life. Unfortunately, my current body is coming to the end of its life. I needed to transfer myself into a new body and quickly!
The sad news is that I won't be able to get back to America and find a jock body, but instead, I'm having to decide on a German guy instead. This will be a different experience. I was looking through the social media pages on local gym guys and I came across this young guy called 'Thomas' he was something else for me as he had everything in the pipeline, looks, body style, clothes taste.
I left my body and only had 30 mins to survive in my secret form, I managed to cling onto Thomas car and got inside his gym bag and assimilated into his to understand more about him. I knew in a few minutes he was about to check his phone. As he grabbed me (his phone), I shot straight into his body. Thomas fought well as we were fighting for his brain. Luckily enough, I focused on his weaknesses and took over.
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I couldn't help but check myself out. It felt incredibly great being young and sexy once again. Thomas felt perfect in every way, but I got to get used to my new deep German accent plus the new bulge below. It's been so many years since having such a young horny body. I had to do some poses and facial expressions to assimilate into my new life. It didn't take long as I absorbed my new personality, and it made me complete.
Two years later.
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Just look at my incredible abs now! My experience has paid off massively as Thomas and I am everything I live for. I am an incredibly strong German stud now, reckonised by the local community, sponsorships, and a successful social media influencer.
The sex is unreal, I can't believe how much I can pump out, and guys just want me daily. I feel like Germans guys are the way forward now, so much easier to assimilate as they have strong desires to become gods. A few of my mates got taken over also as we now own and run the gym. We all love it when a fresh guy turns up, not knowing he will be taken over by our community.
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holylulusworld · 3 days
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Indifferent (2)
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Summary: Your father wanted a bond between you and the Barnes Empire. No matter what.
Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader
Characters: Thor Odinson, Winnifred Barnes
Warnings: arranged marriage, angst, mentions of impotence, arguments, mafia au, a hint of violence, strong reader, jealousy
Catch up here: Indifferent (1)
Indifferent Masterlist
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Bucky is taken aback at your behavior. You’re a brat, but you never openly talked back or yelled at him. It’s simply not your style.
“What did you say?”
“Oh, you’re dull too?” You smirk darkly when he tightens his hold on your arm. “I said make me.” Bucky blinks. His features darken and he’s close to fulfilling his promise when you use the momentum to knee his groin. “FUCK!”
He whines and drops his hand from your arm to cup his crotch with both hands. Tears well up in his eyes, and he whines like a wounded animal.
“Well, now you definitely are impotent,” you flash him a smile. “Aw, you should put ice on that, darling.” You pat his cheek, earning a growl from your husband. “Don’t wait up for me, baby. I’m going to have a little fun outside these dusty walls.”
Pain radiates through his crotch. Bucky feels like he’s going to throw up, and his insides churn. Not only from the pain but the fact that he’s unable to stop you from leaving.
“I dare you to leave,” he yells after you. “Y/N, come back or I swear I’ll hunt you down.”
You turn around to blow a kiss at Bucky. “I love you too, baby. Have a great day. You really should put ice on that. We don’t want your tiny wiener to fall off. I’d be a shame.”
“I will kill her,” he grits his teeth and breathes through the pain. “If she doesn’t come back within the next minutes, I’ll spank her ass until it’s raw, and she can’t sit on her bratty ass any longer.”
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“OH my God,” you whimper. “This feels so good. Please don’t stop…don’t you ever stop!”
“He won’t stop until you relax, Y/N. He’s the best in town. Just look at his large hands,” Winnifred chuckles. She dips her head to look up at the tall masseur. “Thor, my dear. I need you to knead all the knots and kinks my stubborn son caused out of my lovely daughter-in-law.”
“Your wish is my command,” the tall blonde flashes Winnifred a stunning smile. His blue eyes sparkle, and he drops his eyes to your shoulders. “She’s so tense, but I’ll make her relax. Trust me. I’m a professional.”
“I feel like I’m floating,” you sigh dreamily, completely lost in the feel of Thor’s hands on your body. “I’m boneless but happy.”
“That’s the goal,” your mother-in-law grins. “I’ll leave you to Thor now, Y/N. You’re in capable hands.”
“Yeah…” you murmur sleepily. “Perfect hands…perfect…so perfect.” You close your eyes and forget about your marriage and that you left your husband with more than a bruised ego. “I’ll deal with the bastard later.”
“Relax,” Thor leans over your body to purr in your ear. “No thinking, sweetness. Just feel. I need you to shut your mind off and let me rule your body.”
“It’s yours,” you slur. “All yours…”
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You’re walking on air when you return to the place you call your prison, not a home.
After Thor was done with you, it felt like all the sorrows and Bucky’s ignorance just vanished. You decided to ignore him for as long as needed. The moment your father retires, you’ll take over his empire and file for divorce.
What’s a few more years with an indifferent husband – right?
“YOU!” Bucky is back on his feet. Or rather, his balls don’t hurt anymore. While you spent the day with your mother-in-law, he tried to find a way to pay you back. A shame he didn’t come up with a good plan yet.
“A good night to you too, husband,” you don’t let Bucky ruin your mood. Your body feels like you are reborn after Thor worked his magic. “I had the best day ever.”
“You are…” He sizes you up and frowns. “You’re glowing…and…you’re so relaxed.” Bucky sucks in a breath. “What did you do?”
“You mean who did I do?” you can't fight the dopy grin creeping on your face. It’s all Thor’s fault. You feel like you’re high on the good stuff. Or maybe you just enjoyed his hands all over your body. “Damn, that man has magic in his hands.”
“Hands? Man?” The wheels in Bucky’s head begin to spin. He balls his hands into fists, and growls. “If you fucked that gardener, I’ll kill you!”
“Gardener?” You blink a few times. “Nah, masseur, baby.” You giggle and turn to make your way toward your wing of the mansion. “I’m telling you; he’s got more power in his thumb than any guy in their hands.”
“Thumb?” Bucky follows you hot on your heels. He limps a little while walking next to you. “Who used his hands on you? Where have you been? What did you think going out there fucking that asshole!”
“Winnifred was so right,” you sigh dreamily at the memory of the tall blonde hunk. “His hands are the best remedy. I think I’ll visit him twice a week from now on.”
“My mother?” He stops in his tracks to watch you walk toward the west wing. There’s a sway in your hips and he can’t help but wonder if another man gave you what he denied his wife for so long. “She got you a callboy?”
“MASSEUR!” You twirl around to glare at Bucky. “Do not call Thor a prostitute! He’s a professional and would never cross a line. This man gave me something you never could!”
“What’s that?”
“Caresses!” You sniff. “It wasn’t romantic or sexual, but today I felt like myself for the first time since I married you. What a shame that a stranger made me feel like that, not you.”
He wrinkles his forehead. “Caresses?” Bucky thinks about the possibility of losing you to a masseur. His ego couldn’t take it, nor his reputation.
The worst is there’s a green-eyed monster clawing its way to the front of his mind. Another man put his hands on you, and he can’t stand the thought.
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“MOTHER!” Bucky storms inside his parents’ house. He’s fuming, and close to losing his cool. Maybe he already lost it on his way toward their house, he's not sure about it. “How dare you bring my wife to that callboy!”
Winnifred lifts her eyes from the book she tried to read. She smirks knowingly when her son starts to throw a tantrum like an angry toddler losing their favorite toy.
“Thor is a masseur, Jamie,” she coos and goes back to reading her book. “If you do not help your wife relax and make her feel good, I must help that sweet woman. That poor thing is touch-starved thanks to you.”
“You hired someone to have sex with my wife, mother! What in the world!”
“Jamies," she closes her book and sighs. “Not every touch is about sex. I raised you better. You should know that a human being needs more than air to breathe and food to fill your belly. We are not meant to remain untouched, unloved, unhugged…”
She slowly rises from her seat to walk toward her son. Winnifred pats his cheek, and sighs once again.
“I don’t understand your behavior, Jamie. She’s beautiful, smart and caring. What did Y/N ever do to you to deserve your hatred? She won’t admit it, but this situation is killing her. Don’t you see that she’s like a flower withering away in the shadow of your hatred?”
Part 3
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Tags in reblog.
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makeyoumine69 · 3 days
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i would love to see more jealous patrick ❤️😫
Hello, dear anon!💗
Ohhh, jealous Patrick is a thing!
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In the middle of dinner with Bateman's family in Dorsia, the reservation Patrick had been trying to get all week, you needed a moment to powder your nose. On your way back to your table, you were playing with the ring Patrick had gifted you a week ago—a huge gem shone on it whenever you rolled it between your fingers—but when you were distracted by the waiter, you accidentally dropped the ring, and if the stranger hadn't caught it, it would have rolled across the floor to God only knew where.
"Oh, thank you so much!" You beamed and smiled as the unfamiliar but handsome man returned the ring.
"It's nothing, really." He replied, examining you curiously from head to toe.
Such attention made you embarrassed, but then you felt a burning sensation between your shoulders. When you turned around, you locked your confused gaze with Bateman's, his hazel eyes piercing through yours like sharp daggers.
"Uh, thanks again! But I have to go!" With these words you walked away from the stranger before he could tell you something else.
Sheepishly you approached the table where Patrick, his parents and his brother Sean with his date were waiting for you. And even though Bateman's face was devoid of emotion, the moment you took your seat, his large palm found its way to your inner thigh in the blink of an eye.
"So, who was that guy?" He whispered in your ear, leaning closer so only you could hear. "And why was he touching you?"
You let out a shaky breath and smiled politely over Mrs. Bateman's comment that she was glad you were finally back. "What?" You asked bewilderedly without looking at the man next to you. "I just dropped my ring."
"You dropped the ring?" Patrick almost chuckled, his hand diving deeper between your legs under the table, forcing you to grab it to keep him from going any further. "Forgot how to wear a ring, sunshine?" The man took the opportunity to nip at your neck while everyone at the table was busy with each other. "When we get home, I'll remind you… I'll remind you of everything."
His skillful fingers reached beneath your skirt no matter how hard you tried to stop them. Now, they were brazenly playing with the lace of your panties and perfectly hiding beneath the soft material of your dress.
"Patrick," you gasped, gripping the table to stifle a moan as Bateman pressed his thumb against your blushing clit. "Please," your pathetic pleas only brought a broad grin to his smug face. "Stop."
And then Patrick's mother asked you a question you couldn't even hear as your whole body was focused on the rising tension in your lower abdomen as the man was relentless in his intentions to work you up.
"Excuse me…could you please repeat your question? You asked, completely awkward.
Patrick smirked arrogantly and leaned back in his chair. "She asked if you liked the food," he muttered mockingly, before shoving his two digits into your oozing pussy. "Believe me, Mother, she is enjoying the evening. Am I right, honey?"
Paralyzed, you were about to explode at how shamelessly Bateman was behaving, literally fingering you in front of his family. Biting your lower lip for a second, you tried to take a sip of mineral water, but the man wouldn't let you as he intensified his ministrations, curling his fingers to stimulate that spongy spot inside you that made you grip the surface of the table once again.
"Yes…everything is perfect," you managed to blurt out, sensing the cool metal of his Rolex gliding along your hot skin, the contrast only heightening the pleasure. "Thank you, Patrick."
"You're welcome, darling," the man chirped, leaning closer to peck your cheek in an affectionate, pretending way, only to purr into your ear. "Tonight I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't even remember your own name." And with that, Bateman sat back, looking cheeky as ever, as he felt your inner walls contracting around his fingers once he began to rub your little bud with his thumb.
Mrs. Bateman couldn't help but smile. "Oh, you two are so adorable! Such a loving couple."
With a soft chuckle, Patrick grinned in pure delight. "Thank you. We really are."
Bastard.
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abby-sturniolo44 · 2 days
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-- Guilty as Sin?- - M.S - -
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Summary: You and the triplets are very close friends. Matt’s in love with you but won’t do anything about it because you have a boyfriend (a very shitty bf). What no one knows is the fact that you feel the same way and that lately you’ve been thinking about him a lot even when you’re in bed with someone else.
⚠️warnings: Sex, fem masturbation, mentally & emotionally cheating, language.
A/N (1): I saw someone on @mattscoquette account saying how Matt was so ‘Guilty as Sin’ coded so I had to do it 🫶🏼
A/N (2) : This turned out a little longer than what I expected because it has some introductory stuff at the beginning but I swear you’ll get what you came here for <3 💋
………………………………………………………………………………….
Me and my boyfriend Langdon have been together for about eight months now. I was never the type who wanted a serious relationship, everything about love cringed me out but there was something about him that intrigued me a lot, maybe It was the fact that he’s very tall and confident or his dreamy green eyes but I don’t know.
Our relationship was very good in the beginning, my friends used to make fun of me saying that I became what I swore to destroy because I acted like those annoying girlfriends who can’t shut up about their boyfriends, so annoying right?, anyways now I realize that what I felt wasn’t real because I didn’t really know him well so I idealized him and fell for a perfect version of him who I created but only existed in my head.
Is not like he’s a terrible person but he’s definitely not a good boyfriend, at first he was very attentive and sweet but as the months passed he started to be more distant, it seems like he’s not very interested in me anymore, we barely talk, when I ask about his day he answers with a quick “it was a’ight” but never returns the question, we don’t go on dates, we don’t even cuddle, all we do is hang at his apartment but he’s always to busy on his phone to pay any attention to me so I just stare at the tv pretending I’m interested in the show or movie he put on and at night sometimes we have sex, On the weekends he usually goes MIA and I won’t hear about him until Monday just to find out he was ‘out with the boys’. The sex has change too, he used to make me feel good and wanted, like it was an enormous privilege to have me, he always make sure I got cleaned up afterwards and that I received cuddles or water or whatever I wanted but now it’s always so dull and dreary, I feel used afterwards, he doesn’t make eye contact with me, it’s like he’s only concern is himself and his pleasure so I just lay there, during he asks if I’m okay, he states how good he feels and after he’s done he asks if I came, I never do but I always lie to him, he puts his shorts back on and then goes on his phone again, so I go the bathroom,I clean myself and then I go back to bed feeling empty.
I tried to talk to Langdon about it, I told him we have a problem but he brushed it off saying that I’m nuts and that we are better than ever. I’ve gotten used to it by now, I know I could just break up with him but there’s a tiny bit of hope that thinks he’ll change so I stay.
Lately I’ve been feeling some type of way about my friend Matt, I’m very close with him and his brothers, I mean we’ve known in each for a long time now and yes I used to have a little crush on him but that was ages ago and it went away so I convinced myself that what I was feeling currently was the same silly feeling I once had and that it will go away just like last time, the problem was that this time was different it was harder to ignore, it was more intense and it filled my mind with crazy thoughts. It started one day at the warehouse, I was sitting on a large table typing the last details of an essay when all of the sudden my laptop shut down even though it was completely charged, I was freaking out when Matt entered the room, he asked what was wrong and after I answered him he position himself behind me, both of his arms were on each side of me and I could feel his scent on my nose and his warm breath on my face, he was trying to figure out what had happened to my laptop but all I could focused on was his hands, holy shit they’re veiny and his fingers looked so long pressing buttons on the keyboard, my breath hitched and I know should’ve but i didn’t look away, I tried to I swear but when I gazed to the side I saw his tattooed arm and I pictured myself tracing the lines of them, I heard him murmured an almost none audible “fuck” that sent vibrations to my whole body, specially in between my legs. I still don’t know how long I was zoned out but suddenly the laptop was back on and he said “there you go sweetheart” and give me a soft smile.
That night I was in my bed alone and I couldn’t stop thinking about those hands, my heartbeat started to race as I imagined how it would feel to have his hands squeezing my hips as he pulls me in for a kiss, I thought that I would bet millions of dollars he’s a good kisser, would he bite my lip?, how would does longs fingers feel inside of me? . I couldn’t stop wondering, my head was fuzzy, my fingers went from resting on my stomach to under my panties and before I realized what I was doing I touched my clit with my middle finger, slowly and in circles, Matt and how his warm breath felt against my skin never left my mind, a familiar sensation of pleasure overflowed my body and I let out a moan which put me out off my trance and I stoped myself from going further. I kept on telling myself that Matt’s just a nice guy who happens to be very attractive and that I was confused because I felt horny and lonely, but that didn’t stop me because the next morning while I was showering my mind went back to Matt and I pictured him in there with me, he’s wet hair and naked body, he’s dick pressed against my back, his lips on my neck leaving messy and sloppy kisses, one of his hands all over my boobs and the other inserting his fingers inside of me and I couldn’t stop, I imagined him talking me threw it until I came undone screaming the name of one of my closest friends. After that I avoided the whole crew for I couple of days, I felt so guilty, I avoided Langdon too but that wasn’t that hard, it’s not like he was eager to see me either.
Yesterday I saw my friends again we went to a scape room and I tried to avoid Matt as much as I could, after that we went to a pizza place, as we were waiting for the pizza Nick and Chris went to the bathroom and Madi was on her phone, I was pretending to be on my phone too so I wouldn’t have to speak to Matt, he was sitting in front of me and I felt him stare but I didn’t looked up. He quickly switched seats and sat beside me, I ignored him again, I thought I succeeded when I saw Nick and Chris approach us but I was wrong, Matt got even nearer to me and whispered in my ear “is it just me or a you avoiding me today?” I told him he was crazy and that we were good but I don’t think he believed me, I’m a terrible liar but even if I wasn’t I know he noticed how my body froze when he whispered to me and how my eyes didn’t locked with his even once, he didn’t talk much after that little interaction between us. I know him, I know he was overthinking about why I was acting this way towards him, and I felt terrible but how I’m suppose to tell him that I’m the worst person alive because even though I have a boyfriend I can’t get him out off my head, that I keep recalling things we never did, that I can’t look at him in the eyes without having an unbearable need to kiss him, that I want him to hold me at night, or how we’ve already done it in my head and how that was the best orgasm I’ve had in the longest time or how it’s not only a sexual thing but also the fact that I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him?
Right now it’s the next day and I’m in my boyfriends couch, he’s beside me playing some video game, I’m looking at the screen and I hear gunshots and one of his friends yelling from the headphones he has on but my mind is on Matt once again, everyday day that goes by I feel worse, I know he’s frustrated because he knows something’s wrong but I can’t tell him, and my stupid boyfriend is next to me and doesn’t know shit, which makes me feel even worse, Langdon swears we are perfectly fine and I can’t help but feel like a cheater, I hate cheaters yet I am one, I haven’t touched Matt but mentally I’m full of sin.
Last night I told everything to my friend Madi, who stayed the night at my house to keep me company ‘cause “I seemed off”, of course she noticed too, everyone did, even Chris who’s always distracted asked me what the fuck was going on with me.
After I told Madi she stated that I shouldn’t feel guilty about anything,that we can’t control our thoughts but we can control our actions and I haven’t done anything wrong, she also told me I should break up with Langdon and tell the truth because i would be surprised to know what Matt feels too, I still don’t know what Matt feels, she wouldn’t tell me but it doesn’t matter, I can’t do that, I know Langdon hasn’t been the best boyfriend but he’s not a bad person, I just don’t want to hurt anyone but I guess that’s inevitable. Maybe our relationship is just in a rough patch and If I put more effort into it we’ll work it out and possibly light up the fire again. Yes that’s probably it, In a couple of days everything will go back to normal and I’ll stop getting those crazy thoughts.
Langdon gets off his game and asks me if I’m hungry, I say we should go out to eat since we haven’t done that in a while but he doesn’t want to so I offer to cook us something instead and he agrees, I smile big at him and suggest we could make dinner together but he just says “nah” and goes back to his game, but it’s okay I’m not giving up. I make some quick mac and cheese and we eat in silence, he offers to wash the dishes and I let him, baby steps I think to myself.
I stare at him as he’s cleaning the counter and I analyze him, he’s way taller than Matt, and more muscular, he’s eyes are green, not blue, he’s hair is lighter and slightly longer, he doesn’t have any tattoos and his hands are bigger. Overall they are both completely different people, even their personalities don’t match but weirdly the two of them are my type, which doesn’t really matter because I shouldn’t be comparing them anyway.
I walked over to Langdon and I intertwined my hands over his shoulders, I gave him puppy eyes and I stand on my tiptoes to give him a kiss, a genuine kiss he laughs and says “what was that for?”
“I just felt like kissing you, is there something wrong with that?” I reply with and innocent tone before I kiss him again, this time is a longer kiss, it gets heated pretty fast, he pulls me into his hard abdomen, grabbing my ass with both of his hand and I start to feel the bulge between his legs getting bigger. I pull apart out of breath and I ask him to take me to the bedroom, he doesn’t waste any time as he lifts me up effortlessly, my legs are up in the air and I’m being carried to his room. I can’t help but to think about how Matt wouldn’t lift me up as easily as Langdon just did and how I would tease him about it, (c’mon Matt I’m not that heavy) a giggle at the thought and my boyfriends looks at me weird; “what’s so funny?”, oh fuck, I gotta stop, “nothing don’t worry about it”. He puts me down on the bed and gets rid of his all of his clothes, except his underwear, I do the same and we go back to kissing, he’s laying on top of me, he starts giving me kisses on my jaw and goes down to my neck and collarbones, I support myself on my elbows so he could take my bra off, he squeeze one of my boobs and gently tease the other one with his mouth, murmuring things I can’t understand, all I I can do is moan at the feeling. I decide to take a little bit of control and I switch our position, now he’s laying on his back and I straddle him, I give kisses on his abdomen, down to his happy trail and before I reach his boxers I lick him sensually all the way up until I meet his lips again, I kissed him and I bite his bottom lip, “you are such a tease you know that sweetheart”, sweetheart, he never calls me that, that’s what Matt calls me, why I’m a thinking about Matt again?, I shake my head trying to brush off the thoughts and I remove his underwear, he sits up so we are chest to chest, I take a look at his hard cock and I stroke him a couple of times before I put my panties to the side and I aligned myself into him, I sink into him and the both of us let out a sigh of relief once he’s all in, he kisses me and I start to move back and forth slowly, he guides my hips until we found a nice rhythm, he’s groaning and I moan, my moans gets even louder once i start bouncing up and down on him, and it feel so good, he grabs my ass and my hands are on his shoulders for support, i close my eyes and suddenly I’m in Matt’s bed instead, his brown hair is sticking to his forehead, he’s blue eyes are lock in mine and they look much darker now due to his pupils being dilated, his cheeks are tinted pink and his mouth is open, I see his horse necklace moving along with our movements, his chest moves at a rapid pace as well considering that he’s out of breath. I whine so loudly and I rolled my head back at the overwhelming feeling and his left hand goes to my neck bringing me back to him “press harder, pleeaa-ssee” I say between heavy breaths, “yeah? You want me to choke a little do ya’?” “Omg, yess” , “all you had to do was ask baby”. My only response being the sounds leaving my throat, I place one of my hands on top of his left one that’s choking me and my other one goes to his forearm arm caressing his tattoos. I swear I could stay like this forever; “fuck, you’re so pretty, so perfect, just for me, shit I’m gonna cum babe ” “nonono, wait for me, I’m close”
I feel how his dick twitches a little inside of me, my movements increase even more and I start to tremble as I hit my climax and finally that familiar knot on my stomach pops and I came harder than ever, my eyes are close as I ride off my orgasm, my breaths are still irregular and when they’re about to go back to normal I hear “That was so good baby” and my eyes go wide open in shock. Langdon has a fucked out look on his face but he’s smiling at me with a huge grin and once again I feel like absolute garbage, I get off of him and i quickly go to the bathroom, tears are filling my eyes, am i allowed to cry?, my heart is full of guilt and regret, I cannot believe I fucked my boyfriend thinking about Matt but what surprised me the most is that even though i feel terrible, the back of my mind is thinking… ‘if I just came this hard just by thinking of him, how good would it feel to actually have sex with Matt? Does that make me mad? or bad?’ I have no clue all I know is that Madi is right, I have to break things off with Langdon.
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the-faceless-bride · 2 days
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Some Of my current ideas and obsession Blurbs (if you find any of them interesting, I'm open to hearing ideas 👀👀)
Imagine being a demon...
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Imagine Part of your power has to do with death, corruption, and seeing who someone was when they were alive... as a demon, the death of Rengoku Kyojuro broke you. He was such a beautiful, loving, caring man. Giving such an unfair and unfortunate death... you just couldn't accept this...
Imagine You bring him back as he springs up after your ritual. His hair was a mess, covered in dirt, his clothes ripped. He gasps for air as if it was the first he's had in centuries... "Poor unfortunate soul, so sad, in need... come allow me to give you a second chance."
Imagine His horror. Him. Now a Demon. Tethered to you. Unable to die again unless you give him permission to do so... he tired. Sat in the sun. But while he felt weak and itchy, he didn't die. He hated it. Hated himself. He hated you. You who, while yes, didn't have malicious intent. Who gave him a second chance at 'life' as you called this... you who brought him back and unlike when he was alive in his final moments felt no pain, no hunger, he hated you.
Imagine slowly helping him come to terms with his eternal life. From Enemies (one sided) to Lovers letting him stay with you in your small hidden village of other demon families that have also been brought back and tethered to you. Still fulfilling his dreams, taking down the demons who "lost their humanity and deserved their eternity to end."
Imagine the conflict you face, when His once friends and found family find him... a demon... still classic Kyojuro but yet so different... what do you do? An angry group of Hashira Pillars cursing you for what you did to their friend. Kyojuro broken and ashamed of what he is once more at the heart break of his friends being scared of him, some of them hating him all together...
Imagine him calling out to you, help him. Make them listen. Please. His Angel... his little firefly... please make them understand. He can't bare the way they look at him... help him... he needs you.
Rengoku Kyojuro × demon Reader Trope: Enemies to lovers
Now also Imagine being a demon...
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Imagine being a demon who was so desperately, hopelessly, in love with Gyomei Himejima. Hopelessly devoted to a man who didn't even know you existed. You watched him at night, singing your sweet song and lulling him to a deeper sleep each night. Wishing nothing more than to one day be able to caress and memorize every inch of his mind, body, and soul. Wishing to kiss his soft looking lips...
Imagine desperately trying to deny what you know is true... you've heard it from your fellow demon 'friend' over and over again. And tonight, you were desperately trying to hold on to your dreams... "[name] just face it... he's a Demon slayer. A hashira. And to him, you're a monster... that something no amount of love is going to change. You'd be better off not thinking about him anymore. If you really love him, you'd let him go... besides a pretty human girl will probably catch his attention sooner or later..." You hang your head as tears fill your eyes, it's not true... it's not. He could love you. He could...
Imagine one day, you run into him in the Forest. The Forrest trees are so thick that the completely block out the sun, it's only a small section of the Forest. You liked to come here to lay in the flowers, and apparently Gyomei had thought the same...
Imagine He needed a quiet place, today had been a very hectic day. No peace and quiet today at all. He'd simply sat under a particularly large tree, focusing on his breath. You'd sat so unbelievably still. Not wanting to move and risk ruining this perfect moment. You were so close. You'd never been this close to him before and it made every part of your cold body ache.
Imagine accidently rustling the flowers catching his attention instantly, and he jumps to stand in a defensive position. You quickly kneel head pressing to the ground as you apologize for disturbing him, and not wanting any trouble. But oddly he doesn't attack you and instead he apologizes for startling you. At first you were confused. But then it clicked, you Had not attacked him like a demon would. He's blind. He doesn't yet realize you're a demon... this was it. Your chance. To speak to him. To hear him address you... to hear him say your name...
Imagine Pretending to be human, making it seem like you were a measly human girl who came here to sit in the flowers to relax... and this was how it went for some time... days turn to weeks, and weeks turn into months. You'd been keeping this secret of yours for 3 months, your love for Gyomei stronger and flame of obsession brighter. And he'd become so open to you. Telling you almost eveeything... sure you'd felt guilty lying to him... but you just couldn't let him. Go...
Imagine one evening, the sun setting, the fireflies and the colorful flowers surrounding you... you gain the courage to confess... stilling your heart of how much you admire him, you know that he way not feel the same way... but even if he'll never belong to you... that's OK, you are happy to just dream and be his dear friend... but to your shock and joy he accepts your confession. He's gained feelings for you. You could almost cry... but then... in an instant the happiness... your happily ever after was ripped away from you in an unfortunate series of events "Dearest... your hands are so cold..." - "GYOMEI!" A his friend Mitsuri calls out her foot steps quickly approaching, more footsteps following behind. "AWAY DISGUSTING MONSTER!" she cries her sword just barley missing you as your arm is severed clean off. And instantly Gyomei's face goes through so many emotions... worry, Confusion, shock and finally realization... and he let's you go. You dash away vanishing... "Gyomei! Are you ok?! That awful creature tricked you! She must've planned to devower you then and there if I hadn't noticed your absence! Are you OK my friend!?" The sounds of other Confused voices all speaking over each other planning to find you... Gyomei thinks of her question... is he OK?... honestly... he doesn't know...
Gyomei Himejima × Demon Reader Trope: unrequited love/Forbidden love
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musings-of-miss-j · 2 days
Text
no rest for the wicked (nor the foolish)
part eight: in which you're forcibly removed from your comfort zone by none other than the resident ginger, and you meet a certain someone's alter ego(s)
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a harbingers x gn reader series!! (includes dottore, childe, arlecchino and pantalone x reader. the rest of the harbingers will not be romantic interests)
notes: surprise surprise, the burn is still slow!! mentions of blood, gn reader with a dosage of snark that probably exceeds the recommended value
series masterlist
author's notes: *daddy's home plays faintly in the background, slowly but surely increasing in volume as i approach you on a hoverboard with a comically large witch's hat on my head and a ridiculous pair of sunglasses on*
word count: 4725
*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚**  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚**  ੈ✩‧₊˚*
It was, by all accounts, supposed to have been a completely normal lab session. You were planning the reaction route you’d take to test the enzyme you’d synthesised and the various ways to ensure its effectivity other than the rate of the reaction and the yield as you waltzed through the door (the inscriptions were glowing a pretty purple-pink hue reminiscent of sakura blooms that day). The redox apparatus from two days prior was sitting exactly where you’d left it, nothing out of the ordinary there. The abnormality came in the form of a segment currently in the process of detaching the round-bottomed flask where your product had accumulated from the condenser; the first thought to register was the sheer audacity for anyone to even contemplate touching your experiments, while the second, this is my chance to study the constitution of these ‘segments’ up close, wasn’t far behind. Glancing up sharply, your flask still clutched in his un-gloved hand, (a voice in your head shrilly protested his lack of adherence to safety procedures) the segment began moving away, no doubt to disappear to wherever him and the rest usually stayed. With more agility than you thought you possessed, you rounded the workbench and grabbed him by his sleeve.
“You. What are you doing with my condensate?” You demanded, grabbing the flask from between his fingers and setting it down on a stand. Now that the imminent danger of your work going to waste was neutralised, you took the time to analyse this segment of your supervisor’s while you had him cornered. This version of Dottore was at least five years younger than the one you were familiar with, probably from his late Akademiya years. And he wore no mask, leaving two brilliant scarlet eyes on full display, rimmed with pale blue lashes and dark shadows beneath them. The segment coughed and fidgeted, trying to find a way to escape your clutches.
“Hold still,” you ordered, reaching up to touch his face. You were startled by the smoothness of the skin, having expected something cold and metallic. How in Teyvat did he pull this off? You tilted the segment’s face this way and that, looking for hidden wiring or steel plating or anything else that would belie machinery, yet you found nothing. You gave his cheeks an experimental squeeze, and were further surprised when your fingers dug into what seemed to be soft skin, then dropped your hands, stumped.
“Huh. You look very human.”
“Prime did tell me that was the intention,” the segment agreed, flushed in the face and still trying to discreetly push past you.
Even his voice didn’t sound robotic in the slightest, riddled with natural dips of tone and perfect inflection for the context. Your eyes took in every detail, every movement, still failing to spot anything that would’ve given him away as a machine.
“Incredible. Did he give you a name?”
“No. Prime wouldn’t waste a second thinking about something so inconsequential.”
If you weren’t mistaken, the segment sounded almost bitter, staring blankly down at the wall with those striking eyes. You felt a twinge of pity; being a clone for Dottore was probably a thankless task. “Would you like one?” You offered, not unkindly. “If your system permits that sort of input, of course.”
“I- I have no use for such things.” It was strange to think that your Doctor, impenetrable and unmoving as he was, had been capable of stuttering to the point where he himself recalled and implemented the trait.
“How about Theta? I’ll need to distinguish between you lot somehow.”
 “It’s of no difference to me,” the segment- Theta- mumbled, before shooting you one last look, then disappearing in the split second it took to turn your head in his direction. You wondered where he’d gone, and why he was so wary of you.
Oddly enough, you didn’t see the Doctor for the entire morning and well into the afternoon. It was far from ordinary for him not to be in the lab the moment you arrived, (you suspected he slept there, if he even slept at all) muttering under his breath as he worked and occasionally ordering you to hand him the wrench or scalpel or graduated pipette in a tone so entitled it tempted you to bash him in the head with the very equipment you handed him. Still, you couldn’t deny his usefulness. Having two pairs of hands was always easier than one, especially when the other pair was as experienced as they came; you could bounce any question off him and receive a convincing answer, even if he could never resist throwing in a mocking remark about ‘how shameful it must feel to have such a rudimentary fact slip your mind.’
However, you had much better uses of your time than fretting over the location of your boss, such as extracting a sample of noradrenaline from the brain of a body so fresh you half expected the eyes to open in the midst of your operation. Even after such a time-consuming procedure, the Doctor had yet to make an appearance. You wrote it off, assuming he wouldn’t be present that day, and ate all the fruit tarts you’d brought while boring holes into your notebook with your eyes and trying to determine what exactly had gone so wrong amidst your calculations that the percentage error was at an unforgivable fifty seven percent.
“One hundred cubic centimetres of sulphuric acid sounds unreasonable,” a voice from over your shoulder remarked. You blinked, refocusing on the sheet of paper. A whispered curse slipped past your lips as you registered where you’d went wrong; the decimal point of the volume of acid was indeed one too many zeroes to the right. You twisted to see who’d given you the hint.
It would’ve been incredibly easy to mistaken this segment for Dottore himself,  but he lacked the jagged scar spanning from above the mask to his chin and cutting right through the corner of his lip. This segment’s face also wasn’t as harrowed, unlike Dottore’s hollowed cheeks and deathly pale complexion. You probably would’ve missed the difference yourself, if you weren’t so accustomed to the tiny details of the Doctor’s countenance. The segment grinned lazily.
“Like what you see, sweetheart?”
Oh, for the love of-
You shoved him away with a roll of your eyes. Not quite as Dottore-like as his appearance suggested, then.
“You segments are rather friendly today. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Since Prime isn’t here to hassle us about disturbing you, we thought we might as well make use of the main lab.”
A frown formed between your brows as you mulled over his response, absent-mindedly scratching out the mistakes in your calculations.
 “Main lab? There’s others? And why would the Doctor forbid you from utilising it on my account?”
The segment leaned over, resting his elbow on the workbench and his cheek in his hand as he watched you. “What do you mean why”- a delighted expression crossed his face, and his resounding cackle made you look up apprehensively from your notes. “Oh, what a scream. You mean you don’t know?”
The notion of ‘not knowing’ made the scholar in you bristle. “Don’t know what?” You snapped, crossing your arms and turning to subject him to the full force of your glare.
“You’ll find out soon enough, lovey,” he replied with another laugh. You scowled.
Patronising piece of-
“I heard you even gave one of us a name,” he said, interrupting your furious train of thought. “I didn’t think you were so besotted.”
You clicked your tongue dismissively, waving him off. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s counterproductive not to know the names of one’s assistants.”
It was the segment’s turn to bluster. “I am no one’s assistant!”
“Mhm. Be a dear, Gamma, and pass me the dichloromethane so I can make some aspirin for the inevitable headache you lot are going to give me.”
Muttering and grumbling and secretly preening over his namesake being a highly dangerous electromagnetic wave, he slid you the bottle and even a measuring cylinder and pipette to boot. You rewarded his extra efforts with a small smile, and Gamma suddenly understood every nonsensical thought that Prime had experienced since you arrived in Snezhnaya.
Throughout the day, more and more of the segments appeared from Archons-know-where and took to hovering around you while you go about your business, or chattering and doing a fine job of distracting you from whatever you were reading, or even rushing to assist you. You didn’t complain; it was fascinating seeing these different facets of the Doctor. Most of the older segments are rather similar to him, although Gamma had a rather prominent flirtatious streak, while another you’d named Omega was more snappish and impulsive. The younger ones were unfailingly comical; Theta was so easily flustered and a little more apprehensive about explosive compounds than the rest, and Pi, whose name referenced the pastry that was such a direct contradiction to his character, was rude, arrogant and reckless.
(“Since you’re such a bitter pill to swallow, I’ll call you Pi.” You grinned at your own joke. “No other aspect of you is remotely close to sweet, after all.”
Pi scowled animatedly, shattering the beaker in his hands from how hard he’d gripped it. “I won’t answer to a name given by a simpleton.”)
“Pi, clean the mess you made in the fume cupboard! Some of us have organic lungs that can’t handle toxic fumes, you know!”
“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” he snapped back, then slunk off to do as you’d told him when you weren’t looking.
The youngest of the segments, who barely reached your waist and had yet to even speak in your presence, had taken to trotting after you wherever in the lab you went, weaving between your legs and staring up at you with wide eyes half-hidden by a mop of messy blue hair. You’d come immensely close to tripping more than once, but you couldn’t bring yourself to scold him at all, instead nudging him out of the way like a cat sitting in the middle of the hallway. The segments were helpful enough, even if you’d been talked back at more times that day than your entire career as a lab technician in the Akademiya supervising young recruits, and by the time you were contemplating the prospect of heading to the dining hall for a bite to eat everything was in order; reagents alphabetically stored in their cabinets, counters wiped and glassware washed, even the enormous, curved windows were polished to a high shine. You spared them an approving look as you walked past, arms laden with bottles of (carefully separated) acidic and basic waste, admiring the aerial view of the snowy forest below, draped over the mountainside like a shaken-out blanket. The young segment was still tailing you, a lollipop you’d fished out from one of your pockets in his mouth; his utter disregard for where he was stepping had put you on your last nerve, but every time you sat him down in a safe corner he’d stare dolefully up at you before reappearing in your peripheral vision a few moments later. It was a wonder you hadn’t lost your temper, really.
“Epsilon, I can see your reflection in the window,” you pointed out in an unimpressed tone to the segment who’d been on the verge of grabbing your shoulders in an attempt to startle you. He huffed and grumbled, shaking the hair out of his eyes and cheekily tipping the neck of one of the bottles you were carrying as though to let the acid milkshake within, so to speak, spill, then pranced away from your scathing glare with a merry tune on his lips. You didn’t know how the segments seemed so familiar with you, as though they’d known you all their lives; Pi somehow knew how much value you placed on your leather gloves, as he’d threatened to use them for chromium extraction when you didn’t let him take one of your fungi petri dishes, Gamma had off-handedly mentioned how it was a shame your ear piercings had closed up years ago because you couldn’t match with their fluorescent blue test tube earrings, and Theta wordlessly handed you a pile of the expensive cider wood parchment you preferred to use and hurried away before you could say anything. It was baffling, to say the least, but you appreciated the extra help. It meant you could skip off to have a rather overdue lunch without fretting over something or other you might have mistakenly left over a Bunsen burner, even if it was strange leaving the lab without the Doctor’s voice criticising your lack of commitment to your education as the door swung shut behind you.
You weren’t even surprised to find Childe outside, leaning against the doorframe and tossing a dagger through the air, letting it flip over itself before catching it once more. When you opened the door, he stumbled into you and the dagger slipped from his hands as he nearly knocked you backward; but in a rare moment of swift reflexes you jumped to the side to snatch it from mid-air before it could stab either of you in the leg, only for Childe to latch onto your cloak as he fell and subsequently landing you on top of him. For a long, drawn-out moment, you just stared at each other; one of your hands pressed to the floor near his head while the other gripped the knife a safe distance above you. You quickly noted two things. One: Childe was bony and being draped over him was overall an uncomfortable experience; the apex of each of his ribs dug sharply into your chest, and two: his eyes were a peculiar, beautiful shade, less like the sea and more like heavy velvet thrown over something that glowed bright and blue, dimmed by the weight of the fabric.
Childe was finding it difficult to process anything other than your closeness. Yes, you were even more breath-taking up close and yes he would’ve given anything to place his hands on your waist and pull you closer still, but he was even more enamoured by the dips and points of your knuckles where your hand gripped the dagger, the creases in your leather gloves around each finger and the oddly calculating look in your eyes as you appraised him. You could stab him, he realised with a rush, staring up at you. You could drive the blade down and lodge it between his ribs and he probably wouldn’t be able to react fast enough because it was you, and his blood would stain your cloak and blouse and a coppery taste would fill your mouth. He wondered if Signora was right, and whether you really would look better in red.
You cleared your throat, breaking the spell, and Childe suddenly noticed all the other tiny little things he probably wouldn’t get close enough to see again. The notion that such things would remain secret almost made him panic, and it took considerable effort not to clutch at you as you rose to your feet and dusted yourself off. You extended your hand to him, and he allowed himself a split second of self-indulgence, the liberty of seeing your outstretched hand reaching towards his collapsed body as something more than it was; he let himself believe that you, so bright and resplendent in your every trait you might as well have been the moon, were offering him, a creature writhing in the darkness, salvation or even just a moment’s respite.
You hauled him up from the floor with a grunt of effort (he couldn’t possibly be as bony as he felt. All that weight had to come from somewhere), then took off your glasses and held them to one of the wavering white lamps, handing him the dagger.
“Hello, Eleven.” You frowned at the new scratches on the lenses and started rubbing them with the hem of your blouse, even if you knew it was a fruitless endeavour. “How long were you waiting out here?”
“Long enough,” he all but whined in response, slinging an arm around your shoulder and ruffling your hair. Your only protest was a half-hearted grumble as you shoved your glasses back on, and his chest warmed with the thought that you no longer instinctively rebuked his touch. “C’mon, Trixy. I didn’t think you were the type to ghost someone after a date.”
“What are you talking ab- oh, for heaven’s sake,” you said exasperatedly, shooting him a look as he walked towards the stairs with you in tow. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
He beamed so widely you nearly stumbled on the steps, blinded by the intensity of his glee.
“So you’re not denying it was a date?”
You sighed out an incredibly inappropriate curse, drowned out by Childe’s hearty laughter.
“You are an incorrigible man.”
“Well you went on a date with this incorrigible man,” he countered cheerfully and not without a healthy dose of smugness. That earned him a withering look, and you detangled yourself from his side as you walked down the corridor.
“Everyone makes mistakes,” you said with a shrug, laughing slightly when he let out an indignant splutter. Childe bristled, trailing after you with an exaggerated pout.
“You should apologise for hurting my feelings, Trixy.” “If I were to apologise every time I bruised your fragile ego I’d never have time to say anything else,” you teased, linking your arm with his and pulling him along. “Now come on, they serve an exquisite pumpkin soup on Wednesdays.”
You wondered at what point you’d become so friendly with the Harbinger, to feel relaxed enough to so casually poke fun at him. Maybe your self-preservation instincts were decaying. Maybe it was worth it.
“I don’t want to see that… Arlie again,” Childe protested. You looked at him sidelong.
“Oh?” You asked, feigning surprise. “Why not?”
Because she outranks me and I don’t like having to share your attention, he thought. “She beat me in a fight once,” he admitted grudgingly. It wasn’t even a lie; that bitter defeat was indeed part of the reason he felt less than ecstatic around her, though the atrocities she’d carried out to become the fourth Harbinger were impactful too.
 “Infighting between members of the same organisation should not be the norm,” you stated, shaking your head. “You Fatui are ridiculous.”
Childe laughed, tugging you closer by your linked arms to elbow you in the ribs. “You’re one of us ridiculous Fatui now, remember?”
“I am not!” You protested, affronted, before sighing at the self-satisfied expression on his face and changing the subject. “Tsk. So you refuse to speak to her just because you lost to her once? That’s immature, even for you.”
“No, no, defeat is all part of the battle. I don’t like that she refused a rematch.”
You hummed thoughtfully, chewing over his response.
“So you believe you’d win this time?”
“Maybe,” he replied with a shrug, steering you past the dining hall’s entrance. “It doesn’t matter though, does it?” He continued, as though the idea of combat for the sake of combat was the most normal thing he could possibly conjure. “Sparring with a strong opponent is the real goal. Say, Trixy. Are you any good in a fight?”
You snorted. “I’m a scholar, Eleven, not a warrior. And even if I was, I wouldn’t spar with you.”
His face took on an almost comically wounded expression. “What? Why not?”
“Because I know when I’m outmatched,” you replied dryly, letting him drag you along. A dejected expression you felt compelled to ease fell over his face. “Although I do have passable aim with a bow and arrow,” you reluctantly offered, and the change in his demeanour to unadulterated ecstasy was laughable.
“Really?! You’ve got to show me.”
“What? No, absolutely not.” Your reply was swift and decisive, but Childe was nothing if not meddlesome and persistent.
“No, no, no, you’re not getting out of this,” he jubilantly exclaimed, tightening his hold on your arm as if to prevent you from running off. “We’re going to one of the training grounds right now, and you’re going to do some target practice.”
“I’ll use your bloody head as a target if you don’t drop it, Eleven,” you threatened.
“Great idea, let’s try that too!”
Even as you lamented his utter insanity, Childe steered you to the west wing of the palace where you’d never been before. Upon looking around, you concluded that all forms of combat training happened there; the sound of crashing steel and muffled gunshots, interspersed with the occasional crackling, sloshing or rumbling from what was probably from Vision holders practicing how to utilise their elements in battle. The silver in the walls was twisted into different patterns from what you’d become familiar with, abstract depictions of battles long-past and a whole wall of solemn, important-looking text gleamed almost menacingly, commanding the attention of any who walked past it. From your passable fluency in the Snezhnayan tongue, you deciphered it to be an oath of sorts where the reader swore to carry out a myriad of jovial things such as turning the snowy landscape into a ruby’s facet with the enemies innards or their own, and wreaking havoc within the heavens until it rained scarlet. All in the name of Her Majesty the Tsaritsa.
Wow. Bloodthirsty much?
You eyed the oath distastefully, missing how reverently Childe mouthed it as he led you into an empty archery range. Rows of targets stood on the other side, pockmarked and their paint scratched, with a few of them sporting an unfortunate red-brown stain. You were grateful that there was no one there, at least; if you were a little rustier than you remembered then there was no one to witness your mediocrity other than Childe, who was presently looking through the extensive selection of bows and chattering about the various advantages and disadvantages of different models. You riffled through one of the many quivers of arrows scattered haphazardly about, admiring the high-quality steel of the heads. Some of them even had meticulous patterns along their shafts, no doubt hand-painted, and you appreciatively traced a particularly striking golden dragon with tiny, methodical scales spanning the entirety of the arrow, ending at the head where the dragons jaws were open in a roar.
“Well, Trixy? What bow are you going to use?”
You glanced up from the quiver, twirling the dragon arrow between your fingers, eyes skipping over the countless bows laid across the stands. You noted the ones tossed carelessly across them with a disapproving glance, and eventually picked the one that was the most similar to what you remembered using, long-limbed with a straighter taper and made from wood you recognised as Yumemiru from the distinctive diamond-shaped whorls.
“Why that one?” Childe asked, mesmerised by the sight of you in his element with a weapon at your fingertips. What were you thinking about when your hands reached for that particular bow? Did you have any specifications, preferences in regards to size or even the type of wood it was made from? Were your eyes drawn by the faded blue leather wrapped around the handle? Would you prove to be better, smarter, quicker than he was? The thought sent his heart racing and his brain spiralling with the prospect of having you as a competitor, an opponent.
“Does it matter?” You replied with a shrug, testing its weight in your hands. “I’m no expert when it comes to the craftsmanship of weapons. The bow I learned to shoot was probably older than me with a string practically on its last life.” You frowned slightly, looking up at him. “Why do you ask? Is there some sort of technique or guideline I should follow?”
“No, no, don’t worry about doing something wrong,” he reassured, his back to you as he assembled a quiver of arrows. You lowered the bow to stare at him, flabbergasted that he’d so quickly and accurately read the involuntary hesitation in your answer.
“Usually we have beginners start with a compound bow, but you probably have your own inclination by now,” Childe continued, oblivious to your astonishment. “What you’ve got there is a longbow,” he added, tossing you an archery glove. “They’re generally more difficult to master and harder to use.”
You pulled off your glove after making sure his back was still turned before replacing it with the one he gave you, and then picked up the bow again with new interest.
“I see. And yours?” You asked, nodding towards the one he had picked, white wood gracefully curved and narrowed at the tips.
“This one’s a recurve bow. They’re better at close range and generally need more strength to draw.”
Childe couldn’t help but be entranced by your contemplative expression, all furrowed brows and a distant gaze as you took in the new information. He had to agree that you really were a scholar before all else; the pensive look you so often sported might as well have been made to be worn by your features. In your eyes, even an archery range became an experiment, a mystery to untangle. You sighed and turned to face the targets, nocking the arrow and drawing the bowstring back to touch your chin. Childe watched as you adjusted your aim, mentally evaluating your form, then let the arrow fly. He let out a low whistle of appreciation when it hit the centre with a satisfying thunk.
“Clearly your aim is more than just passable,” he remarked with an excited glint in his eye that you didn’t quite like.
“Accuracy is all I have,” you replied with a shrug, lowering the bow and gently pressing your fingers into the indent the bowstring left in your chin, perfectly aligned with the barely-visible scar there. You’d forgotten how tender the skin could get. “I doubt I can still hit a moving target, for one.”
“But you can get the bullseye every time?”
“Not every time,” you corrected, making your way to the target to pull the bow out of the wood. The painted dragon really was a masterpiece, and you took a moment to admire it before heading back to the archers’ stand. Childe grinned and followed after you, bow temporarily forgotten.
“So most times then?” He pressed, trailing closely behind you.
“Where are you going with this, Eleven?”
 “I still think we should spar,” he replied brightly, so close he was practically breathing down your neck. “We’ll make it so that if you manage to shoot me even once, I go down, or we could”-
You twisted around to poke his chest with the fletching of the arrow, cutting him off. “No.”
“Please?” He implored, rounding on you whatever direction you turned to avoid him. “Please, please, please?”
“No!” You repeat, louder and with the full force of your irritation. “I’m not dying before I get this damned certificate!”
There was a beat of silence as he stared at you, slightly aghast. “You think I’d kill you?”
“…I don’t think you’d do so on purpose, no,” you conceded, taking out your pocket watch. “But your strength exceeds mine to the point where fearing for my life in a duel wouldn’t be unreasonable.”
“It is unreasonable to assume I’d ever hurt you,” Childe groused, continuing to block your path every time you tried to move past him. “Stop trying to get away,” he added, bending over to pinch your cheek. You stared at him, utterly at a loss for words, then quickly smacked his hand away with an irate grumble.
“I need to get away, I still have lab work to do.”
Childe flapped his hand as if physically shooing away the idea. “You work too hard, Trixy. Take a break.”
“And what do you think this little exercise was?”
“A chance to impress me with your archery skills, of course,” he replied without missing a beat, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly. You rolled your eyes with a quiet huff of laughter, pushing past him, and he dutifully followed after you.
“You’re not very difficult to impress, are you?” You teased back.
Only when it comes to you, he thought wistfully.
*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚**  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚**  ੈ✩‧₊˚*
taglist:
@viridian-coffer, @vvzhyxx, @darifes, @whore-of-many-hot-men
@aenishas, @lovel3tter, @randomidk-123, @autistic-deer
@luvenus702, @zoriaisasimp, @ra404, @crownohomo
@diamondcookie45
if i missed you somehow please message me directly, bold means i’m having trouble tagging you! to be added or removed please comment on the masterlist post of this series <3
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strawb3rrystar · 2 days
Text
Executrix.
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Pairing: Draco Malfoy x GN! Reader
Warnings: Dry humping, They both cum in their uniforms, Switch! Draco & Reader Maybe some wrong information about Death Eaters? Idk I tried
Word count: 1,430
✰Masterlist
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You knew today would be a good day when your boyfriend invited you to his dorm after classes. Though everyone seemed to hate Draco, he was never as much of an asshole to you as everyone else. In your head he was the perfect partner. Defending you if someone dare talk shit about you, helping you in potions, studying together.
Well, you thought he was perfect. But then you walked into his dorm, and saw him with his sleeves rolled up. Which would be hot, if you hadn't seen that on his arm. Something that people only talk about, but never see in their entire lives.
Once he notices you standing there, he then realizes what you saw. His Death Eater mark. He also noticed the way you backed ever so slightly away from him. A look of panic crosses his face.
"Do not tell anyone. You got that..?"
You nod your head in response. Draco takes in a breath, sitting down at his desk. After rolling down his sleeve he gestures you over and you comply.
"You know, I don’t understand how people could not like you. From what I have seen you are very clever. I have seen you do so many spells the first time you did them. It’s impressive. You have never failed a class, you aren’t a bully, not mean…"
Draco has a look of pain on his face. Why the hell is he telling you this? He can’t help himself, that's why, he loves you too much. He can't lose you.
"Okay.. is that all supposed to add up to something?"
He groans in annoyance. Draco looks at you, his eyes full of pain, shame and..fear?
"I’m trying to be nice! You should appreciate these compliments. But, you're right….I just..need you to do me a favor. Don’t say anything about my…my.."
Draco’s breath hitches. He looks at you with sad, but pleading eyes. You tilt your head slightly, raising your eyebrow a little.
"Death Eater mark?"
“Yes. That. Just pretend you never saw it, okay?”
Draco’s voice is almost a whisper at this point, he quickly looks to the side, avoiding eye contact completely.
"You have my word. But, can you tell me about it? I've never seen one before."
Draco looks into your eyes for a long while. You’ve never seen him this vulnerable before. He takes a deep breath and rolls his sleeve up, showing the death eater mark once again.
"It’s a symbol for the Dark Lord and it marks everyone who is apart of the Death Eaters. The mark links us all together."
You look on, fascinated by the concept.
"You're all linked together? Wow."
Draco rolls his sleeve back down, hiding the mark once again.
"Unfortunately yes. It makes it easy to call on any Death Eater at a moments notice. The mark is also a symbol of his ownership of us all.."
You look at him with sympathy following his response. Draco’s eyes widened in disbelief. Why did he feel better that you were showing him sympathy? His face held a level of pain, fear and…trust?
"That's terrible. No one should have to go through that."
At hearing that Draco’s eye’s flicker with shock and..hope. His face is now one of complete vulnerabilities. You’ve never seen it before, but it looks like he is about to cry. You immediately wrap your arms around him, squeezing him tight. And Draco’s eyes widened as you wrap your arms around him. No one had comforted him, ever. He slowly wrapped his arms back around you, pulling you closer to him.
"I…I don’t know what to say…."
"You don't have to say anything."
Draco lays his chin on your shoulder. He felt himself relaxing as you held each other. It felt…so right. He then lifts his chin up and moves his head so his lips are next to your ear.
"Please, never tell anyone what you saw…or what we talked about."
"I won't, I promise."
That was all Draco needed to hear. He cupped your cheek in his hand and began to lean in and then, without thinking, pressed his lips onto yours. He pulled you closer, his hand on the back of your neck. The kiss was so heated and hungry. You kissed back, your hands finding his shoulders.
Draco deepened the kiss, he grabbed your hip and picked you up, placing you on his lap without stopping the kiss. He then grabbed the back of your head and began to nibble at your bottom lip. You part your lips in response, a soft moan leaving them.
He let out a small groan and slipped his tongue in your mouth, beginning to explore all around your mouth while grabbing your thigh. He could feel himself giving in to whatever was happening between the both of you. A whimper escapes your lips as you run your fingers through his hair. Draco groaned as you raked your fingers through his hair. He pulled you closer to him, grabbing your hip so you were pushed up right against him, slowly rocking his hips up into you.
"Fuck, you’re driving me crazy…"
Draco could feel himself shudder after he said that. He gripped your hips and pushed them down again, rolling his own up into you. Some more moans escape your lips as you paw at his shirt. You slowly try to move your hips as well, wanting more friction.
"This needs to be off."
Draco moves one of his hands from your waist and starts to unbutton your shirt. You comply and take off your shirt, tossing it to the ground. He moves his head back up as you take off your shirt and moans at the sight of you.
"You look so good…"
"Thank you."
Your eyes close for a second at the amount of pleasure you were feeling grinding into him. He moves his hands up from your hips then gently grabs your chin and turns your head to look at him.
"Keep those pretty eyes open, sweetheart."
"Sorry. It feels too good."
You reply when you open your eyes back up. Draco groans again at your words and he cups your cheek with one hand.
"Don’t apologize, just…just keep moaning for me."
You nod your head, desperately rolling your hips against him, his name leaving your lips. The rolling of your hips causes him to moan lowly against your jaw. Your moans persist as you grow closer to cumming. Draco moves his hand down from your cheek and grabs your hip as he continues to grind up against you.
"You are so perfect."
He whispers in your ear, and moans again, feeling himself getting close to the edge. Your head falls back as the intense rush of pleasure courses through your body. Draco takes this opportunity and kisses your exposed neck, savoring the moment. His chest is rising and falling, his groans are getting more frequent.
"You’re gonna make me…make me…"
Draco’s breath hitches again as he tries to form words. His hips are moving against you faster and faster.
"Yeah... Can we.. cum together..?"
You grab onto his shoulders, bouncing up and down a little. Draco moans, his body shuddering a bit at your words.
"Yes…yes we can sweetheart…yes…"
He’s almost begging at this point. His hips can’t seem to stop moving. The amount of friction between them caused their bodies to heat up, sweat painting their skin. Their bodies grind together, moans and grunts leaving mouths every few seconds as they both approach the edge. Draco pushes your hips down hard one last time as he shudders, his head falls forward onto your shoulder as he finishes. His moans and grunts are loud and hot, his breaths are quick and deep. You follow soon after your eyes rolls back as tears prick the corners of them.
Draco pants, leaning his cheek against your shoulder. You feel his chest rising and falling as he tries to steady his breathing, his breaths are hot against your ear.
"You’re…you’re amazing.."
Draco pants as he places a kiss on your shoulder. His arms have made their way around you, wrapped you up into a tight embrace, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.
"So.. so are you.."
Draco turns his head and places a kiss onto your neck. He pulls away and looks up, locking eyes with you. He runs a hand over your cheek, then over your collarbone and up to your shoulder. He holds you close then captures your lips in a passion filled kiss. Knowing that you weren't leaving his dorm anytime soon.
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Star's notes -> Sorry if this is terrible, I didn't really proof read it.
(Requests are open!)
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Taglist -> @elmolovesw33d @helendeath | Join the taglist
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lurochar · 23 hours
Text
Relief in Falsehoods
Background Alastor x Reader, One-sided Vox x Reader, One-sided Vox x Alastor
Just wanted to try writing Vox. Hopefully I didn't mess his character too bad
---‐---‐----------------------
This was a new low.
Even for him.
But how could he help it? He had no idea that old-timey prick and his companion (his lover? wife? Or in deer talk, mate?) had come back after a seven year absence.
It pissed him off.
Because deep down, he still felt that yearning that never extinguished, even after that oh-so brutal rejection he had gotten from Alastor.
Approaching you hadn't even been an option after that either, as Alastor had ‘kindly’ warned him to never step in your presence again.
And now here he was, standing in his penthouse suite, standing tall with his normal cold expression on his flat-screen face, but internally, he felt like the lowest of the low, a loser who couldn't get over his strange obsession over two people he should have forgotten about years ago.
Val had seen the anger and stress and provided him with a simple solution: he sent Vox two of his porn actors to give him the release he desperately needed.
And not just any regular porn actors, Val had gone out of his way to look for ones of this specific type and so Vox had damn better well be happy with it or–
“You're fucking joking, right?” Vox's eyes twitched. He glanced between the two shivering, scantily-clad whores already on their knees, waiting to take orders. 
Val had really sent him two deer demons, one male and one female, in an attempt to get him out of his pissy mood?
This just pissed him off more.
Had it been Alastor or Y/N, that would be a completely different story, but–
“I guess this is what role-play is for.” Vox muttered to himself before his eyes widened and it swirled with hypnotic waves and the two deer whores immediately stiffened as they fell under his trance.
“You,” Vox pointed towards the nameless doe, “until this is done, your name is now Y/N. Is that understood?” He moved to her, disappointed there wasn't much of a resemblance between her and you other than you both were deer demons.
“Yes, Mr. Vox, Sir! My name is Y/N!” She stated, absolutely beaming up at him and then shuddering when he reached down to stroke one of her ears.
“You always were such a sweet little doll, Y/N. Why you are with that radio fucker is beyond me.” Vox's screen glitched as he recalled the true you and how content you were at Alastor's side.
It could have been him.
It could have been all three of you.
Instead of Valentino and Velvette, it could have – should have – been him, you, and Alastor ruling as Overlords as a trio, owning thousands of souls, drowning in money, and just living a life of perfection.
But Alastor threw that all away.
Vox's screen turned red and he turned to look at the buck still on his knees, still looking blank under his hypnotism. “And you, your name is Alastor until I say.”
The buck quickly responded. “My name is Alastor. I understa–” Vox kicked him in the stomach, causing him to double over, though Vox just lifted his head up by his (not red and black) hair.
“Y/N is the lucky one. I don't have much of a grudge against her. But you, Alastor,” Vox sighed, reaching down with his free hand for his belt and the buck began to tremble despite the trance he was under, “this night isn't going to be very pleasant for you. I can't even guarantee you'll leave here alive.”
Hmm, maybe Val was right.
Maybe he really did need this…
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Text
Vows
Thomas Michael Kinard, you are the man of my dreams... No, Buck thought, too cheesy, and he scribbled that out. "Tommy, you are the coolest person I've ever met..." Nope, too casual, Buck decided, scratching that line out too. "Tommy, you complete me..." No, that wasn't quite right either. Buck's mind wandered, "Tommy, your body rocks my world, and I can't wait to get you into bed tonight." He grinned at the thought, but quickly dismissed it. True, but definitely not appropriate for his vows.
Buck sighed, frustration mounting. Why was this so difficult? He knew, without a doubt, how much he loved Tommy, so why couldn't he put those feelings into words on paper?
Buck and Tommy had decided that they wanted to write their own vows, because really, there was nothing traditional about them as a couple. Buck tapped his pen against the dining table, contemplating his next words. "Tommy, when I met you, I thought I was straight, but then you kissed me and my entire world shifted." Not a bad start, Buck decided, nodding his head in approval.
As he leaned back in his chair, his mind wandered to Tommy. Was he also struggling to find the right words to express their love? Buck couldn't help but smile at the thought of Tommy, perhaps pacing back and forth in his living room, running his hands through his hair as he searched for the perfect way to express his feelings.
****
"Maddie, why is this so difficult? I know what I want to say, but I just can't get it from my brain to the paper!" Tommy groaned, frustration evident in his voice.
Maddie smiled reassuringly, "Well, I'm happy to help. What do you have so far?"
Tommy hesitated for a moment before sliding the notebook over to her. Maddie began reading aloud, "Evan, I have never met someone as unbelievably sexy as you. I am constantly thinking of what I want to do to you and fantasizing about that thing you do with your tongue..."
Tommy made a choking noise and quickly ripped the notebook from Maddie's hands, his face turning a deep shade of red. "Those ones are private," he mumbled, embarrassment radiating off him.
"Well, I would hope so!" Maddie exclaimed, her eyes widening. "Wine... I need wine. I have to forget that ever happened. He's my brother, Tommy!" Maddie exclaimed, shaking her head vigorously as if trying to physically dislodge the memory. Tommy had never felt more humiliated in his life, wishing the ground would just swallow him whole.
Sensing his discomfort, Maddie suggested, "Let's pause the vows for a minute." She grabbed a bottle of red wine and poured a generous glass for each of them. "How's the guest list coming along? RSVPs were supposed to be returned by Thursday, right?"
Tommy nodded, grateful for the change of subject. "We got the last one we had been waiting on yesterday, Evan's friend TK and his husband Carlos. So now we have a firm final number, and we can complete the seating chart."
Maddie's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Can you believe you're getting married next week?" she squealed, her earlier discomfort forgotten.
Tommy really couldn't believe it. Before Evan, he didn't think marriage was even a possibility for him and had resigned himself to being whatever the male version of a spinster was. But here he was, just days away from marrying the love of his life.
**** Buck stared at the crumpled pieces of paper scattered across the dining table, feeling utterly defeated. He needed help, but somehow, he was the only member of the fire family without a shift today. Pulling out his phone, he opened up the 118 group text. It was the next best thing, Buck thought.
He quickly typed out a message: "SOS! I need help with my vows."
Chim was the first to respond, "Not sure how much help I'll be, bro. I got married in a hospital."
Eddie chimed in, "I'm not exactly the poster child for healthy relationships."
"That's the understatement of the century," Buck muttered under his breath.
Feeling frustrated, Buck sent another message, "Seriously? No one is willing to help? Everything I've come up with is literal garbage."
Hen's reply came through, "I've got you, Buckaroo. Happy to help."
Bobby's message followed shortly after, "You know I'd love to help you, kid. Why don't you head down to the station for family dinner, and we can brainstorm."
Buck heaved a sigh of relief, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. He grabbed his jacket (well, really Tommy's jacket) and headed out the door, eager to get some much-needed assistance from his chosen family.
****
Maddie sipped her wine, observing Tommy as he animatedly discussed the wedding details. She had let him procrastinate long enough, allowing him to steer the conversation away from the vows. They had covered everything from the guest list to the centerpieces (a beautiful combination of dahlias and calla lilies), the attire (tailored suits, navy for Tommy and maroon for Evan), the menu (a delectable array of Italian dishes), and the cake (a towering three-layer masterpiece with smooth buttercream and tangy raspberry filling).
Maddie knew it was time for Tommy to focus on his vows. She set her wine glass down and turned to him. "Tommy, let's get back to your vows. I want you to close your eyes and think about specific moments with Evan. Focus on how you felt in those moments – the warmth, the laughter, the comfort. Those are the feelings you want to capture."
Tommy closed his eyes, letting memories flood his mind. Evan's laughter, his gentle touch, the quiet moments they shared.
"Now," Maddie said softly, "open your eyes and write. Don't worry about making it perfect. Just let the words flow from your heart."
Tommy opened his eyes, picked up his pen, and began to write. The words poured out, filling the page with heartfelt emotions. Maddie watched, smiling proudly as Tommy found his voice.
****
Buck sat at the firehouse table, his head in his hands as he struggled with the task of writing his vows. The weight of the task seemed to bear down on him, and he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. Well, you could always go traditional," Eddie suggested with a shrug.
Buck shot him a look, making it clear that wasn't an option. "What do I saaay, Cap?" he whined, turning to Bobby.
Bobby looked at Buck with a fatherly expression. "I think the problem, Buck, is that you're trying to find the perfect words, and there's no such thing. Do you know how much Tommy loves you?"
Buck nodded.
"And does Tommy know how much you love him?" Bobby asked.
Another nod.
"Then that's enough," Bobby said firmly. "Tommy knows your heart, Buck. Regardless of what you say, you show him how much you love him every day."
As Bobby's words sank in, Buck felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He sat up straighter, his mind clearer and his purpose focused. The love he shared with Tommy was the foundation, and the vows were simply a way to express that love.
With renewed determination, Buck grabbed a pen and paper, ready to pour his heart out in a way that truly reflected his feelings for Tommy.
****
The remaining days before the wedding passed in a blur, and soon the big day arrived. As the music started, Jee-Yun walked down the aisle where Bobby and Tommy were standing. She spread her petals before running over and jumping into her daddy's lap.
Maddie grasped Buck's hand, feeling it was clammy and noticing he was shaking a bit. "Ready to do this?" she asked.
Buck nodded, taking a deep breath to steady himself.
"Then let's go see your man," Maddie said with a warm smile.
Buck and Maddie started down the aisle, and Buck's breath hitched in his chest. There, waiting for him, was the most beautiful man in the entire world. Tommy was staring back at him, his face adorned with that special, crinkly-eyed smile reserved just for Buck – the "Evan smile."
Buck had to stop himself from running to Tommy. He could not wait to become his husband. Finally, he reached the end of the aisle, and Maddie gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Buck stood next to Tommy and grasped his hands, his heart swelling with love and anticipation. Tommy leaned in and whispered, "Hey, gorgeous," before giving Buck a little wink. The gesture, so intimate and playful, made Buck's knees weak. He nearly passed out from the overwhelming happiness he was feeling in this moment, standing beside the man he loved.
Bobby looked at the two men with a proud smile and began the ceremony. It felt like everything was happening too quickly, and in a blink, it was time for the vows. It had been decided that Buck would read his first, so he began:
"Tommy, I spent so much of my life desperately searching for something that I couldn't put a name to. I was lost, aimlessly wandering through life, and then you kissed me, and everything came into focus. You helped me to see a whole other side of myself and to accept myself for everything that I am. From the moment we started dating, I knew that there was something different about our relationship. Something strong. And then I went and screwed it up by talking about hot chicks on our first date."
The guests laughed politely at Buck's confession.
"But you never made me feel bad. You wanted to let me do things on my own timeline, and you were open to giving me a second chance. And after that coffee date, I swore to myself that I was going to do everything in my power to keep you."
Buck paused for a moment, his eyes locked on Tommy's, before continuing.
"Tommy, you opened my eyes to a whole new world. You have made me feel safe, protected, and like I matter. Your love is my lifeline, and I vow to spend the rest of my life working to be the man that you deserve."
As Buck finished his vows, Tommy, deeply moved by his words, responded softly, "Oh baby, you already are." His voice was barely louder than a whisper, but it carried the weight of his love and admiration for the man standing before him.
Bobby smiled and indicated with a small nod that it was Tommy's turn. Tommy took a deep breath, his eyes glistening as he began his vows.
"Evan Matthew Buckley, you are sunshine personified. For so long, I lived my life with a dark cloud above me. I was scared to share my heart with anyone. I spent so many years in the closet, afraid to admit who I was. And even after I had accepted myself, I still walked around with a chip on my shoulder, mad at the world."
Tommy paused, reaching out to take Buck's hands in his own, his touch gentle and reassuring.
"You changed all that, Evan. You softened my heart and allowed me to be vulnerable. Your love melted my icy heart, and you brought warmth and light into my life in a way I never thought possible."
Tommy's voice wavered slightly, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He took a steadying breath, his eyes never leaving Buck's.
"Ev, your love makes me a better person, and I vow to spend every day of my life protecting you from the harshness of the world and never allowing anyone to extinguish your beautiful sparkle."
As Tommy finished his vows, a single tear rolled down his cheek. Buck, equally moved, reached out to gently wipe it away, his own eyes shining with love.
"I believe you have rings to exchange," Bobby said, and they both nodded, never taking their eyes off one another.
"Do you, Evan Matthew Buckley, take Thomas Michael Kinard to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
"I do," Buck replied, sliding the ring onto Tommy's finger, his hand trembling slightly with emotion.
"And do you, Thomas Michael Kinard, take Evan Matthew Buckley to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
"I absolutely do," Tommy said as he slipped the ring on Evan's finger, his smile so big it looked like it might actually be painful.
Bobby beamed at the newlyweds, his voice filled with joy as he proclaimed, "Then by the powers vested in me, I am delighted to pronounce you husband and husband. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you Thomas and Evan Kinard!"
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riririnnnn · 24 hours
Text
The sole inspiration of this theory is this post by @someprettyname.
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You know, one of the topics Kaneshiro-san hasn't talked about in the Manga yet is academic pressure on a student, and this topic perfectly suits Shidou out of all the characters in Blue Lock. He is like the perfect candidate to showcase a burnout student who had to put up with all the pressure their parents placed on them, and I have three reasons to believe in this theory:
-> Monologue
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All his monologues during the U-20 match has one common theme, "Leaving a proof of yourself for the world to remember you." And one common belief in a household with great academic pressure is that you are made to believe from a very young age that if you can't achieve something in your life, then you are completely worthless. These kind of parents think that being happy with one's life isn't enough, you need to and got to be something or do something big in your life.
One more thing that slipped through ALL of our eyes is that Shidou is actually a pretty smart person:
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Shidou was so quickly able to correctly judge Kunigami and Reo, and I think that's a pretty good testament for one's intelligence.
Of course, I do not believe that a grade can fully show a student's capabilities, but I do also believe that you need to have, at least, some kind of intelligence to score good grades. And considering all of this, I can place a safe bet that Shidou was some kind of scholar student and being a smart kid in an Asian household means having to carry lots of academic expectations!
-> Behaviour
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You don't even need to fully know about Shidou to understand that he is far away from a student who is considered ideal and that's the point I'm trying to make! He isn't an ideal student because he is tired of being one for so long!
Okay, to understand my point better, imagine this:
You are being forced to be at the top of your class, to be a good, well-mannered, well-behaved student. It's like a constant invisible rope of expectation tied around your neck that never goes away and it's eating you up inside, so what would you do?
Most likely: rebel.
And that's what Shidou is doing! He is aggressive, violent and foul-mouthed—everything that can NOT be found in a trait list of an ideal student. Also, dyeing your hair in bright colours has been a pretty common thing any student does in order to 'rebel'.
You getting me? Please say yes.
-> Favourite song
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His choice of music was the first thing that made me believe that Shidou is just being a rebel student. Hide, as stated by Wikipedia, was (or maybe is) considered as the icon for Japanese youth to rebel against the 'conformist' society of Japan. And Pink Spider song goes deeper than it appears—this and this beautifully explains about the above mentioned song.
Here are some few excerpts of the articles:
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This song's meaning in Shidou's case can be interpreted in various ways, and I would love if you guys come up with your own interpretations.
For me, it's like Shidou felt trapped in whatever way he was living. He was made to feel that if he followed every rules, got good grades, behaved like an ideal student, then everything will be fine and will work in his way and that his elders really know the best for him and that he is just naïve. This type of living ended up suffocating him even more—he wanted to truly live—he bottled everything up and one day, he just snapped and that was when the Shidou Ryusei we know was born.
One more small and very personal reason for me to believe that he was a scholar student with too much academic pressure is that one of his favourite subjects is Art.
Speaking from personal experience, I've noticed that people who were forced to study and do well academically usually end up falling in love with making art.
I don't know how to explain it well, sorry.
That's it, I guess.
What do you guys think?
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astrxq · 21 hours
Text
CHAPTER 3 → A Canvas of Guidance
words: 3.2k
masterlist
notes: feedback is appreciated!
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As Benedict waited in the inviting ambiance of your cottage, his mind whirled with questions and uncertainties. The room was filled with the comforting scent of freshly brewed tea, mingling with the faint aroma of the blooming flowers outside the open window. He fidgeted with his sketchbook, glancing around the room and admiring the tasteful simplicity of your decor.
The gentle sound of your footsteps approaching snapped him out of his reverie. You entered the room, carrying a tray with a delicate teapot, two cups, and a plate of biscuits. The sight of you, so effortlessly poised and graceful, sent a flutter of nervous anticipation through Benedict’s chest.
"Here we are," you said, placing the tray on a small table between the two armchairs. "I hope you don't mind chamomile. It's quite soothing."
"It's perfect, thank you," Benedict replied, his voice a touch steadier now as he offered you a grateful smile.
You poured the tea with practiced ease, the golden liquid steaming gently as it filled the cups. Benedict accepted his cup with a quiet "thank you," his fingers brushing lightly against yours as he took it from you. The brief contact sent a jolt of warmth through him, and he quickly averted his gaze, focusing on the tea to steady himself.
Seated opposite each other, a comfortable silence settled between you as you both took a moment to enjoy the soothing tea. Benedict watched you over the rim of his cup, his thoughts racing as he tried to find the right words to start the conversation.
Benedict cleared his throat softly, gathering his courage as he set his teacup down. "Miss Montclair, I must confess that I have been in a state of artistic paralysis for some time now. My inspiration seems to have eluded me, and I... well, I hoped that perhaps spending time with you might help me find my way again."
You tilted your head to the side, giving him a look, “Your inspiration is not for me to give, Mr. Bridgerton, it is your own job to find it.”
“Well, yes. But… I thought maybe I could find it, with your guidance.”
You nodded thoughtfully at Benedict's words, understanding the weight of his artistic struggle. "Guidance can come in many forms, Mr. Bridgerton," you replied gently, a hint of encouragement in your voice. "Perhaps sharing some of your sketches with me could be a start."
Benedict hesitated for a moment, his fingers tracing the edge of his sketchbook before he finally handed it your way. He suddenly felt like a kid, waiting for your approval as you silently looked at the drawings. Anxiety ran through his body when he saw you furrow your brows for a second, then go back to your neutral face. 
The two minutes you took to go through all the sketches felt like years to Benedict as he tried not to seem uncomfortable by the daunting silence in the room. Finally, you raised your head, making eye contact with him. 
“They are very good,”
“Please do not spare me of the truth, I’m not a boy, I can handle it.”
You stayed quiet, thinking of how to word it without completely taking away his perceiving of motivation for art. You opened the sketchbook again, flipping to one of the pages with the drawing of a hand, next to it a single piece of paper that did not belong to him, the original hand drawing that he’d been trying to replicate in hopes of perfecting his own art.
"These sketches are technically proficient," you began, your tone gentle yet firm. "But they lack... personality. It feels like you're replicating what you've seen rather than expressing something uniquely yours."
Benedict's shoulders slumped slightly at your critique, but he nodded, absorbing your words. 
“It seems you've been so focused on technique that perhaps you have lost sight of the essence of what makes art meaningful.”
"You're right," Benedict finally admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation. Benedict looked down at his sketches, seeing them now through a different lens. Each stroke seemed less like a meticulous replication and more like a missed opportunity to infuse his own spirit into the canvas.
"You have the skill, Benedict," you assured him gently.
He seemed to pause for a few seconds, thinking, as he stared at the sketchbook. Suddenly, hoping not to impose, he chirped the question that had been echoing his mind since he decided to visit you.
“Have you ever taught?”
“Taught?”
“Art, I mean. Perhaps I could pay you to help me?”
You paused, considering Benedict's earnest request. Teaching was not something you had actively pursued, preferring your quiet life of creating rather than instructing. However, seeing Benedict's genuine desire to improve, you felt a tug of sympathy and a flicker of excitement at the prospect of guiding someone so earnest.
"I haven't formally taught before," you began slowly, “And I couldn’t possibly ask for your money, Mr. Bridgerton…”
“I don’t mind paying–”
“But I would gladly share my knowledge for free,” you assured him, smiling softly. "Consider it a gesture of goodwill towards someone passionate about their craft."
Benedict looked visibly relieved, gratitude evident in his eyes. "Thank you, Miss Montclair. I truly appreciate your generosity."
"You're most welcome, Benedict," you replied kindly. Once he finished his tea, you stood, taking in hand the cups. He attempted to help, but you stopped him before he could reach for the tray. 
“I will change into a… proper dress. We can go promenade and perhaps it helps with your inspiration.”
The soft click of the door behind you left him in solitude once again, the quiet of your cottage wrapping around him like a gentle embrace.
As he waited, Benedict allowed himself to fully take in the surroundings. The room was a reflection of you—an artist’s haven, with walls adorned with an eclectic mix of paintings, each one bursting with life and emotion, some with Byron’s signature on them, others with a more elegant handwritten ‘Y/n’. He took two steps closer to the painting in front of him, it was different from Byron’s usual oeuvres. While Byron’s works exuded a robust and dramatic flair, this piece emanated a soft, ethereal quality. 
His reverie was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Turning, he saw you enter the room, now dressed in a simple yet elegant gown, suitable for a walk. The soft fabric flowed gracefully as you moved, and Benedict couldn’t help but be struck by how effortlessly you seemed to blend with the artistry around you. You were a living embodiment of the creativity and passion that filled this space.
“Shall we?” you asked, your voice pulling him from his thoughts.
“Yes, of course,” he replied, a hint of eagerness in his voice. He quickly picked his sketchbook up, careful not to disrupt any of the scattered papers, and followed you to the door. 
You silently walked next to each other, the land of your cottage big enough for you to walk for hours. Benedict stopped his tracks when he could no longer feel you by his side, turning around to see you had stopped next to a tree, sat under its shadow, and had somehow managed to take your own sketchbook without him taking notice.
Benedict approached you, a mixture of curiosity and admiration in his eyes. "Are we sketching here?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
You looked up at him and smirked, “I am.”
Benedict looked around, slightly bewildered. The sunlight filtering through the leaves cast a dappled pattern on the ground, creating a serene and inviting scene. He took a moment to absorb the tranquility of the setting before settling down beside you, still clutching his sketchbook.
You watched him for a moment, observing the way his fingers trembled ever so slightly as he opened his sketchbook. He turned to look at you the second you looked back to your sketch, hoping to start a conversation, but once he saw that you planned to stay quiet, he focused back on his own art. 
As the soft rustle of leaves filled the silence, Benedict sighed beside you, his sketchbook resting on his knees. He stole glances at you, noting the serene concentration etched on your face as you began to draw. There was an effortless grace in your movements, a confidence that seemed to stem from years of practice and an intimate connection with your art. He attempted to peek a look at your work, earning a small push by your elbow and a funny look. 
“Don’t cheat!”
“I am simply curious! Let me see,” he reached for your arm, you smacked his hand away.
“Focus, Mr. Bridgerton,”
He laughed at your dumbfounded expression, your left hand still clutching your sketchbook close to your chest, so he wouldn’t see. “Benedict,” he corrected, “Mr. Bridgerton is far too fancy, just first-name me.”
You nodded, “You must call me Y/n, then.”
"Y/n, it is," he agreed, a comfortable silence quickly filling the air once again.
Benedict’s own hand hovered over the blank page of his sketchbook, uncertainty clouding his thoughts. The pressure to produce something meaningful weighed heavily on him. 
Taking a deep breath, he began to sketch the landscape before him. The lines were tentative at first, lacking the fluidity he so admired in your work back in the house’s walls. His eyes darted between his sketch and the scene around him, striving to capture the essence of the place. He glanced at you again, seeing how your pencil moved with purpose, each stroke deliberate and filled with life.
After what felt like an eternity, he decided to break the silence. "What are you drawing?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
You glanced up, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. “I’m not telling.”
Time seemed to stand still as the two of you continued to draw, side by side yet each lost in your own world. The dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting a gentle glow on the pages of your sketchbooks. Benedict found himself relaxing into the process, his strokes becoming more confident, his lines more expressive. 
After a while, you broke the silence again, your voice soft but clear. “It is starting to get dark, perhaps you should get back to the city.”
Benedict looked up from his sketchbook, momentarily surprised by the suggestion. The tranquility of the afternoon had wrapped around him so completely that he had almost forgotten the passage of time. He glanced around, noting how the sunlight had begun to wane, casting longer shadows across the clearing.
He nodded slowly, reluctantly torn from the peaceful cocoon of creativity that had enveloped them. "Yes, perhaps you're right," he conceded, his voice carrying a hint of regret. He hesitated, his pencil hovering over the page for a moment longer before he closed his sketchbook with a decisive snap.
You watched him with a gentle understanding, recognizing the bittersweet feeling of leaving behind a moment of inspiration. "You can always come back," you offered softly, your gaze meeting his.
"I would like that," he replied earnestly, his voice having softened, a small smile creeping in his face, he tried to suppress it but failed. “Would Wednesday be okay?”
"Wednesday would be perfect," you replied with a warm smile, touched by Benedict's eagerness to return. The sincerity in his eyes and the newfound determination in his voice reassured you that today's session had sparked something within him.
As you both gathered your sketchbooks and rose from the shade of the tree, the tranquility of the countryside seemed to linger around you. Benedict walked beside you as you made your way back towards the cottage, the soft crunch of gravel beneath your feet punctuating the quiet between you.
“Perhaps, meeting weekly could help me more…” he turned back to you the second you reached the front door.
You felt yourself nod enthusiastically, giving the door the last pull before opening it to Benedict’s chaperones sitting on the carriage, waiting for his arrival. 
Benedict glanced at his chaperones, a mixture of reluctance and resignation flickering across his features. He turned back to you, his expression reflecting a silent apology for the intrusion of reality into what had been a moment of creative respite.
"I'm afraid I must be going," Benedict said softly, his voice tinged with regret. He shifted slightly, as if torn between lingering and fulfilling his societal obligations.
You nodded understandingly, though a hint of disappointment touched your eyes. "Of course," you replied with a gentle smile, masking any hint of sorrow that might have welled up inside you. "Thank you for coming today, Benedict. I look forward to seeing you on Wednesday."
"I look forward to it as well," Benedict responded earnestly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned towards the waiting carriage. He glanced back at you, a soft smile on his face as he clutched his sketchbook in his hands. You mirrored the expression and raised your hand to give him a small wave, watching as he climbed into the carriage and disappeared down the winding path.
“Benedict!” the voice of his youngest sister startled him as he almost bumped into her the second the carriage door opened, “Brother, you must tell me!”
Benedict chuckled softly at his sister's exuberance, realizing she must have been waiting eagerly for his return. He stepped out of the carriage, his sketchbook still in hand, and turned to face Hyacinth with a warm smile.
"Oh, Hyacinth," he began, his voice tinged with amusement, "I'm afraid there's not much to tell."
“You lie,”
“I visited Miss Montclair, that is all.”
Hyacinth arched a skeptical eyebrow at Benedict’s nonchalant reply, clearly unconvinced. She was not one to be easily deterred, especially when it came to prying into her siblings' affairs.
"Visited Miss Montclair, you say?" Hyacinth's tone was laced with curiosity, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied Benedict's expression. "And what did you do during this visit, pray tell?"
Benedict couldn't help but chuckle at his sister's persistence. Hyacinth possessed a sharp wit and an insatiable curiosity, traits that often made her both delightful and challenging company.
"We had tea," Benedict began, deciding to indulge her just a little. "And then we... walked in her garden."
Hyacinth's eyes widened with interest. "And?"
"We talked about art," 
“How romantic!” she exclaimed, Benedict rolled his eyes and, with his free hand, pulled at once of his sister’s braids playfully. “Everything is romantic to you, sister.”
Hyacinth huffed, but her curiosity was far from satisfied. Hyacinth's eyes widened with interest, sensing there was more to Benedict's encounter than he was letting on. "And did you enjoy her company?" she pressed further, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.
Benedict couldn't help but laugh at Hyacinth's persistence. "Yes, I did," he admitted.
“Is she to be married? Can you court her?” 
“Hyacinth, enough.” The swift voice of their mother made the girl groan, giving her brother a glare before running back inside the house. 
Benedict chuckled softly at his sister's curiosity, grateful for her spirited interest yet also amused by her relentless questioning. As Hyacinth retreated indoors with a final disgruntled glance, he turned to find his mother approaching with a serene smile.
"Did you have a pleasant visit, dear?" she inquired, her tone warm with maternal affection.
Benedict nodded, his expression softening. "Yes, Mother. Miss Montclair's company was quite delightful."
Lady Bridgerton's eyes sparkled with gentle amusement. "I see," she replied knowingly. "And did you find what you were seeking?"
"I am getting there."
She placed a reassuring hand on his arm, her touch grounding him with maternal warmth. Violet pretended not to be as excited about Benedict’s return from your house as Hyacinth was, knowing her son was one to avoid compromise, she had a feeling. 
Lady Bridgerton’s gaze softened, understanding the weight of her son’s artistic pursuits. She knew Benedict’s journey to find inspiration was not merely about improving his craft but discovering his own voice as an artist. As they walked back towards their home, the sun setting in the distance painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over the estate grounds.
When he stepped foot into the house, he felt his arm being pulled away by Hyacinth once again, a box of cookies in her hands as she dragged him to their small tea table.
“You must tell me everything,” she insisted eagerly, her eyes bright with curiosity as she settled across from Benedict at the tea table, the box of cookies between them.
Benedict chuckled softly, charmed by his sister's enthusiasm. He reached for a cookie, considering where to start amidst Hyacinth's relentless curiosity. "There's not much to tell, really," he began, taking a bite of the sweet treat. "We had tea, discussed art, and walked in her garden."
Hyacinth raised an eyebrow skeptically, clearly unconvinced by his concise summary. “You already said that.”
“Well, that’s what happened,”
“Details, brother, details!” she exclaimed, shoving one of the cookies towards her brother. "Did she show you her paintings?" Hyacinth continued, undeterred. 
“She had some in her living-room. I showed her mine, though.”
She squealed onto the cookie she bit into, her eyes lit up with curiosity. “What did she think of your sketches?”
Benedict chuckled softly at his sister's eagerness. "She thought they were technically proficient but lacked a certain... personality."
Hyacinth leaned forward, intrigued. “What does that mean?”
He shook his head with a chuckle, as she seemed to forget the question she’d just asked, immediately hitting him with another, “Are you going to see her again?”
“On Wednesday,” he nodded, taking the opportunity to also bite into one of the cookies. 
“Did you kiss?” she giggled, before he could answer, she whispered “I won’t tell mama,”
He leaned forwards, as if telling her a secret. Benedict did a ‘come hither’ move with his hand, making her smile widely as she got closer. He quickly wiped some of the frosting from the cookie onto her cheek, “We didn’t.”
Hyacinth leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a dramatic sigh after wiping the food off of her face. "Well, that's terribly dull," she teased, though her grin betrayed her amusement.
"And is she beautiful?" she probed again, her eyes narrowing with playful curiosity.
Benedict hesitated for a moment, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "Yes, she is," he admitted softly, a hint of warmth coloring his cheeks.
He bit into the last cookie before the girl excitedly made her way back to their living-room, satisfied with the information about her brother’s afternoon.
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