#this was not beta read and literally written in one go into the tumblr post so be gentle with me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sailoryooons · 2 years

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Mine | One Shot | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Yoongi x Succubus F. Reader

☾ Summary: Yoongi lives a quiet life. His days are organized neatly, and every week he can expect the same results. Then he meets you. Hypnotizing. Otherworldly. Strange. And his life never goes back to the way it was before.

☾ Word Count: 14,864

☾ Genre: Smut, Horror, Thriller

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Buckle up bitches this list of warnings is going to exhaust even me. Overall creepiness, descriptions of liminal spaces, tons of mentions of subspace-like trances, Yoongi's mind is not always his own, unexplained happenings, Yoongi being manipulated subtly, written jump scares (like three of them?), nightmares, hallucinations, the cutest and also creepiest fucking little succubus you'll ever see, Succy (succubus reader) really likes Tokyo Ghoul that should be a hint, hints at eating raw meat (bleh), Yoongi turning against his friends, Yoongi feeling sick/depressed in a couple of scenes, Yoongi is literally addicted to eating reader out soiejijrghij, explicit sexual content including, spit play, nipple play, oral (f. and m. receiving), grinding, unprotected sex in multiple positions, cum eating, switch dynamics between the two of them often, subspace mentions, fingering, ass play (m. receiving), just.... so many bodily fluids all the time, mentions of animal death (it is a cat and it's dead body is briefly described), a lot of confusion and pace changes as a style choice, Succy is literally obsessed with Yoongi so a lot of the pet name Kitty, very cringe behavior for some rando Yoongi met at a bar, ambiguous ending. I think that covers it idk this is almost 15k of pure nightmare fuel I will send you my therapists number alright

☾ Published: October 30, 2022

☾ A/N: If I have to write this authors note one more time because 'a wild tumbeast ate my fucking post I will scream. Do better Tumblr please stop eating my content over and over lmao. ANYWAY. SURPRISE THIS IS HERE A DAY EARLY. I have zero self-control and @gimmethatagustd told me to post it now so I really said fuck it we ball. I didn't use a beta for this one because I'm insane but I did edit it myself.... so if you see errors..... no you didn't. This one was so much fun to write and I hope you all love Succy as much as I do. She deserves the world she is very... scary and cute.

HAPPY HALIWEEN!!!

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask

Friday nights are spent blowing off steam from work with friends. Yoongi has always lived a simple life, and he likes his Fridays like this: second person to the bar after Taehyung, a quick shot of whisky to take the edge off the day, followed by a whiskey neat and some fries from the kitchen that will still be a little unthawed in the middle.

Yoongi loves his Fridays at Serendipity.

The name is a bit of a joke, Jimin says. He inherited the old, rundown bar under another name from his abusive father after he passed away. Mysterious circumstances, the long-term patrons mutter into darkened ale and frosted mugs. Still, they come despite Jimin flipping the name. It was the only thing Jimin could afford to flip, the floors still the same sticky concrete that collect vomit, spilled beer, whiskey, and perhaps a little piss.

It's an ugly thing, with the vinyl stool covers splitting open to reveal guts of yellow foam, and countertops that need another layer of lacquer to fight the chipping from heavy mugs being slammed down every time Seokjin gets into an argument with one of the regulars. Yoongi tries to avoid the bathroom as much as he can. Jimin spent two weeks cleaning it and stocking it with a nice care basket with sprays, cotton rounds, and other products, only to have someone puke in it on the first night.

Yoongi doesn’t care that Jimin named the bar as a bit of an inside joke. Yoongi knows in his heart of hearts when he sees you that this moment is serendipitous.

Because when Yoongi sees you for the first time, the world ends.

Not really. But it feels that way the moment he turns at the bar. Perhaps he’s meant to see you – or perhaps it was by your design. He tilts backward when the door opens, searching for any sign of Seokjin who said he would be there in a few minutes.

And there you are.

Lights dim. The world takes on a muted feeling, like the two of you exist between murky, brackish water with something lurking just beyond the clouded space that he can’t quite make out. The roaring voices of the bar fade softly into the background until it’s just a buzz of pressure between Yoongi’s ears - or maybe that’s not right. Maybe it’s the buzzing pressure of awareness pressing on his spine and eardrums.

It isn’t pleasant but it’s not… uncomfortable.

It’s impossible to look away from you. He tries - tries to remember where he is. A bar, perhaps? Not this weird, opaque space where the only thing he can make out is the rogue on your lips, a spark in your eye, and the way you walk forward. No. Walk isn’t the right word. Glide might be more appropriate, he thinks.

As you near him, Yoongi breathes in sharply. Something like cedar mixed with jasmine and amber makes his head spin. The world tilts and Yoongi begins to slide on its new axis until suddenly, the mist surrounding him shatters as his foot comes into contact with the ground, knee buckling under his weight as his hand flies to the bar to hold himself up.

He fell off of his stool.

Yoongi almost doesn’t believe it, except Taehyung is laughing so hard next to him that Yoongi flushes furiously. He slides back onto the stool, brows furrowed and head ducked down to hide his rapidly glowing red ears and face from you.

But then you speak, and Yoongi cannot fight the urge to look at you once more. It’s an instinct pulling him from blushing furiously in his lap to stare at you.

“Hi,” you murmur. Yoongi is a fish out of water, mouth parted slightly, heart racing. Jasmine. Cedar. Amber. It’s all he can smell. His head swims, mind foggy as he tries to string together words. “Is this seat next to you taken? It’s the only one empty.”

Is it? Yoongi can’t tear his eyes from you, but he could swear Old Ass Han had been sitting there before you walked in.

Old Ass Han is the least annoying of Jimin’s customers and sometimes Yoongi doesn’t mind when Old Ass Han rambles about his late wife. Yoongi has no idea how old Old Ass Han is, he just knows that he was ancient even when Yoongi studied as a high school student tucked in the far corner of the bar.

“Um, yes?” Yoongi says and it comes out like a question.

You grin at him and the world ends a second time.

Pleasure-laced fear shoots down his spine. Your teeth are white and straight, but he swears for a split second they were razor sharp. He shakes his head, dispelling a little of the floating feeling as he says, “Of course. Yes. Please sit.”

Yoongi holds his breath and averts his eyes as you slide onto the stool next to him.

It’s suddenly too loud in the bar, a cacophony of voices and chairs scraping against concrete. Yoongi can still smell you, making the world rotate awkwardly as he spins on his stool to find Taehyung staring at him, brows raise and barely concealing his laughter.

“I don’t think I have ever seen you fumble like that,” Taehyung murmurs. He loses control of his laughter and tries to hide it in his cup of cider. Yoongi flushes and angrily stares into his whiskey, hyperaware of you leaning on the bar to call the bartender’s attention. “I mean – she is – holy shit I never believed in faeries or witches before but there's no way she’s human.”

Yoongi opens and closes his mouth. He tries to find a response to Taehyung, but his tongue feels heavy in his mouth and something tingles along every hair on his arm and neck, a sense of awareness as you lean on the bar, speaking to the bartender.

Again, your voice haunts Yoongi in a matter of seconds. He feels the need to turn and look at you again, but he doesn’t want to be weird. He’s already fallen off the stool once, and he doesn’t plan on further exacerbating his humiliation.

So, Yoongi remains facing Taehyung. Clutches his whiskey glass with shaking hands. Tries to take a breath – it comes out shaky – to calm himself. He has no idea what kind of delirium is threatening him every moment you’re next to him, but he wants to fight it - tries to fight it.

“Are you okay?” Taehyung’s brows twitch, mouth pouting. He ducks his head slightly, trying to find Yoongi’s gaze, but the older keeps his eyes fixed on the wood grain bar. Yoongi wants to look at you again. So bad. Wants to ask you your name. Wants to memorize the curves of your mouth. Wants to memorize every stroke of color in your eyes.

Want want want want.

A sudden throb pulses in Yoongi. He doesn’t know where it comes from, but he feels it bloom inside of him, unfurling with warm petals of want want want want.

The urge to turn and look at you gets stronger.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck –

Yoongi grits his teeth. Feels pressure at the back of his head, like there are featherlight fingers pressing into the base of his skull to urge him to turn around and look at you again. His muscles constrict and he feels himself start to turn, hips beginning to swivel in your direction, arms rigidly placed on the bar as if to fight his lower half.

When he doesn’t turn to look at you, Yoongi swears he imagines the light press of fingers turning into a steel grip. His eyes start to water and he clenches his teeth, feeling an immovable force on him pulling, dragging, tearing - and he lets out a small gasp, the grip on him so strong that he -

“Yoongi,” Taehyung says again, voice firmer. Yoongi looks up this time, eyes soft and round, face flushed. There’s a little sweat collected on his brow, and Yoongi feels a dull throb at the back of his head like a fading migraine. “What’s wrong?”

“Um-“ he cuts himself off and clears his throat. The pressure on his head is gone, but the menthol-cool, awareness of you is not. “Maybe too much to drink? It’s been a stressful week, I think I knocked these back too quickly.

“You do look sort of flushed.” Taehyung raises his brows. “Maybe water?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Water, please.”

Taehyung asks for water when the bartender returns with your drink. Yoongi doesn’t look at you, though he can see from the corner of his eye you’re looking at him. He grits his teeth and stares at the mismatched, colored bottles behind the bar. None of its top-shelf – Jimin certainly cannot afford it – but it doesn’t need to be.

A glass of water appears in front of Yoongi in time for Seokjin’s arrival. The pressure in Yoongi’s skull doesn’t return, and the tingling along his nerves like an electric current dies down a little. He still feels shaken as he sips the water, freeing up the dry feeling on his tongue.

Seokjin nestles between Yoongi and Taehyung, ordering himself a drink. Jimin appears around the bar this time, finally done with his bookkeeping in the back, and slides a beer over to Seokjin. Yoongi watches the way Jimin smiles at them before his attention falters and slides to you sitting next to Yoongi, making Jimin blink rapidly a few times.

Irrational irritation flares in Yoongi for a split second. Though his attention is on his friend and watching Jimin reacts to you sitting in Old Ass Han’s place, it occurs to Yoongi that he doesn’t want anyone else to compete with him.

Not that he stands a chance. But for once in his life, Yoongi wouldn’t mind being the one to take someone home. Why can’t it be him? He saw you first. You’re sitting next to him.

Just as Jimin’s eyes glitter, turning to half-moons as he smiles at you, Yoongi spins in the chair, giving you his full attention. Your eyes turn to meet his and Yoongi is falling into them, no end in sight.

“Hi again,” you greet, voice velvet. “You have pretty eyes.”

“All right, hyung,” Jimin murmurs. Yoongi isn’t looking at Jimin, but he can hear the smirk in his voice as Jimin retreats to their friends.

“Thanks,” Yoongi murmurs. He allows himself to drink you in. His head begins to buzz like he’s had too much whiskey, his tongue heavy and cotton-fuzzed in his mouth. “You have a pretty… everything.”

You have to know how beautiful you are. A deity beneath silk-smooth skin. But you duck your head, a shy giggle leaving your lips. You have the decency to look shy, averting your eyes, lip tucked between teeth.

Perhaps later Yoongi will be embarrassed by the honesty. But right now, it’s all he can do to keep his heart rate normal. You are incredible to look at. Taehyung was right – perhaps not human.

An unnatural glow hums under your skin. Your eyes are vivid, drinking him in with a spark that Yoongi swears echoes a deep flame in the pit of his stomach. He wrestles with himself, his hands fighting a magnetic pull to reach over and brush his fingers across the canvas of your skin.

Yoongi won’t be able to stop if he touches you. His thoughts repulse him – you’re a stranger. Someone he doesn’t know. Someone his mind is begging to violate. He fists his pants, flexing the muscles of his hands and willing the strange pull toward you to go away.

He doesn’t even know your name and Yoongi feels like Pandora, watching you with coveted desire and shaking, greedy hands. Fuck he wants to pry you open and see what treasure lurks beneath the surface.

“What’s your name?” You ask him. You stir a beverage straw in your drink – an Old Fashioned. His lips twitch in a smile at your taste in drinks as he offers you his name. “Yoongi,” you repeat back. The way his name melts in your mouth like sugar entices him. “Cute. You’re cute.”

Yoongi flashes you a shy smile, echoing yours. You share a laugh, his rough and scratchy as he chews the inside of his cheek nervously, yours light and floating. It echoes in his ears and Yoongi loses his sense of self, thoughts drug-laced with only you.

And then your lips are on him and once again, Yoongi swears the world around him has fallen to destruction.

It’s hard to remember the order of events. Yoongi doesn’t care. Your mouth is sugar-sweet and hungry, licking into Yoongi’s open-mouthed kisses as he presses you against something firm. He wants to melt into you, your skin like fire under his seeking hands, your breath delicate and soft against the empty air of what he thinks is his apartment as his lips attached to your neck.

Even your skin tastes sugared. A delicacy for him. For his mouth only.

Mine. The word echoes across his mind, but not in is own voice.

You writhe underneath Yoongi’s hands. He squeezes the flesh of your lips, tongue snaking out to lick a broad stripe of skin up your neck. Your fingers card through his hair, tugging slightly, just enough to make him groan against your skin.

Yoongi is painfully hard. His cock throbs in his pants, the material restrictive and making the ache so much worse. He grinds his hips against yours, mouth sucking viciously at your collarbone, the top of your cleavage, anywhere he can taste you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your head thudding against the wall behind you. Panting, you hike up one of your legs, wrapping it against his waist to pull him in tighter to you. Yoongi whines as you connect your mouths again, tongue and teeth, and spit as you grind against him. “I want you so fucking bad.”

“Have me,” he mumbles sucking your tongue into his mouth. You moan, deep in your chest. He swears for a second it’s like a growl. Thinks nothing of it. Just pushes against you hard, cock pulsing. “Whatever you want.”

“Please.”

Yoongi never wants to hear you beg again. Or maybe he doesn’t want you to stop begging. He can’t make up his mind as he pulls you toward a room – his room. Yes, you’re both in his apartment. That’s his slate grey couch that you’re stumbling past and that’s his sheets that you fall backward against.

Licking his lips, Yoongi takes a moment to look down at you. You’re splayed out for him, unfurling in his sheets. He knows tomorrow morning they’ll still smell like you – jasmine, cedar, amber. You look divine, a flower unfolding delicate petals, open for him.

Only for him. Mine.

You wrap your legs around Yoongi, pulling him flush to the edge of the bed. You release him and press your feet to the bed, knees resting against his hips. You blink at him through fluttering lashes and starry eyes. He’s never seen anything like you. He never will again. He knows it.

“God damn you’re beautiful,” Yoongi murmurs, the words slipping through his lips, unrelenting.

The stars in your eyes vanish. Yoongi recoils, seeing the fathomless black threatening to eat him alive. He begins to pull away, terror shooting through his chest, sharp and angry. You squeeze your knees against his hips, nearly shattering him. Your mouth is a gash of red with rows and rows of black teeth, churning and churning.

“Don’t speak his name here,” you hiss, words slithering in layers of many different voices. “Never again.”

Yoongi blinks and you’re blushing as you look up at him, knees splayed like butterfly wings, open for him. Just for him. He smiles at the way you giggle and hide behind a hand. “You’re so sweet.”

“You are beautiful. I swear it.”

“Touch me.” Your voice drips honey-sweet on his senses. “I want to feel you, Yoongi. Please.”

There is a prickling sensation like fear at the base of his spine but Yoongi can’t remember why as he smiles at you lazily, dipping down between your legs. He props himself above you, hands planted on the mattress on either side of your head to cage you in.

“Ask me again.”

“Please. Please please please-“

Yoongi swallows your begging tongue first, delving into your luscious mouth.

It’s been a long time since he’s been in his room like this with a partner, much less with someone who looks the way you do, but Yoongi’s hands are confident as they sweep up your sides, pulling the fabric of your shirt up with his hands as they go. You lean upward, letting him pull it off you before it flies from his hand somewhere in the room.

The lights are off in his room, but a silver shaft of moonlight spills through the window to paint you silver. Your eyes reflect the light as you drink him in, his hands brushing up your arms, warming your skin as he traces them to your tits, palming them generously over your bra.

A sigh escapes through your parted lips, red lipstick smeared artfully from the clash of mouths and tongues. He dips back down, tongue hungry for your sugar-warm taste and the liquid heat of your mouth.

Yoongi is dizzy. He’s a little off balance as he breathes you in. Your fingers pull through the strands of his hair, hips canting upward as he reaches around to unclasp your bra, peeling the unwanted layer from you.

Heated, shameless eyes meet his. You tilt your chest toward him, eager for his mouth. He doesn’t miss a beat, placing wet kisses over the tops of your breasts, more tongue and spit than lips, leaving a slick trail to your right nipple. Yoongi’s mouth is possessive, sucking your pert but between his lips and flicking it lightly with his tongue, looking up where your lips part in the moonlight to let out a soft moan.

It spurs him further, plucking your nipple with his teeth, pulling any sound he can from you. He gets a loud whine then and you wiggle your hips under the weight of where his waist is pressed into yours. Grinning, Yoongi repeats the motion, giving a generous suck before pulling away with his teeth, gentling scrapping your peak.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “Feels so good.”

Yoongi trails chaste kisses from one nipple to the other, giving it the same attention. He snakes a hand down your body, fingers dancing across heated skin to pull at the zipper on your jeans. His hands tremble, making it difficult to free the first button.

Reluctantly, Yoongi pulls his mouth away from your breast, a glossy strand of spit connecting his mouth to your swollen skin as he looks down, using both hands to pop the button on your pants and tug violently at them.

“These jeans are the fucking devil.”

“Yes,” you murmur, so quietly that he can barely hear you. He gets them to your ankle, yanking one more time and tossing them. He loses your hushed words in the rustle of clothes hitting the floor when you whisper, “I am.”

“Hmm?” he asks.

You silence his question by pulling his shirt over his head, leaning to capture his exposed chest with your tongue and teeth. Yoongi stands between your legs, head falling tilting toward the heavens at the worship of your mouth.

Deep groans leave his mouth. You bite more than you kiss, but Yoongi likes the way your mouth leaves a trail of little teeth marks, your mouth pinching his flesh before your tongue soothes it. You have him trembling, nearly making him double over as your hand presses over his clothed cock firmly, applying the pressure he needs.

It’s not enough.

Every part of Yoongi feels exposed. Even half dressed, the world is brushing against him raw, every touch of your hands like pleasure and torture, every fan of your breath like the coldest breeze on a hot summer day.

None of the sensations make sense but he feels high – higher than that time he and Jimin took shrooms at that one festival in college where the lights had whispered secrets of the forest to Yoongi and where he had tasted something beyond what he could describe.

But under your carnal touch, Yoongi knows that is nothing compared to this. Nothing compares to the way you work his jeans down to his midthigh, too impatient for him to kick out of them before you’re dipping a hand in his briefs and taking his cock into your hand.

“Holy fuck,” Yoongi gasps, nearly toppling backward. Your grip is firm, strokes deft and confident and oh my god he might come like this.

You lean up to teeth at the pulse point of his neck as your tongue darts out to take a firm lick. “There is nothing holy about me, Min Yoongi,” you murmur against his neck. He shivers, eyes rolling behind closed lids as you speak. He can feel the trace of your incisors, sharper than he remembers against his skin.

Stars dance behind his eyes. You pull your hand away from his cock, making him protest. You hush him with a bite against his shoulder, sharp enough that he thinks you break skin. He doesn’t open his eyes, letting his world sweep from under his feet as you turn him and knock him onto the bed.

When the feeling of spinning stops a little, he blinks his eyes open to help you peel his clothes the rest of the way off. You’re fully naked and Yoongi doesn’t know where to keep his eyes. The swells of your breasts, marked with bite marks and spit from his mouth, the curves of your stomach and waist as you climb atop him, predatory and eager, or the glistening slick of your thighs where you’re dripping for him.

“Come here,” he demands. He’s dying to have you on his tongue, knows you’ll taste saccharine. He grabs your thighs harder than necessary, zeroing in on your pussy as he pulls you toward his mouth. “Wanna fucking taste. Bet you’re fucking delicious.”

You hum in delight, a lethal smile on your face as you crawl up to where he wants you, knees firmly on either side of his head. Yoongi lets out an appreciative noise. Your cunt is sticky and glossy for him, the perfect meal.

With gentle fingers, he parts your folds gently to reveal your slick, clenching hole and needy clit. Yoongi is eager, a finger trailing up and down your warm slit as he lets out a moan.

“Fucking wet,” he whispers before leaning up for a long, slow lick.

Stars explode behind his eyes. He hums in delight, shivering at the taste of you, heady on his tongue. He repeats the motion a few times, flattening his tongue for a slow-drag, appreciative lick up your cunt. He feels the way you drip into his mouth, spill on his chin and he can’t help but curse, at how addictive this feels.

You moan when he dips his tongue into your entrance, gathering your essence on the tip of his tongue before he drags it soft-slow up to your clit, circling your bundle of nerves lazily. Yoongi pulls your clit into his mouth with gentle lips, feeling the way it pulses as he sucks gently.

The sounds you make above him spur him further. He alternates between sucking your clit delicately and butterfly-soft tongue flutters, watching your mouth go slack as you watch him. The more you drip into his eager mouth, the greedier Yoongi gets, fastening his entire mouth on you and sucking harshly.

It becomes sloppy and imprecise. Yoongi can’t decide where he wants his mouth most. He can’t remember ever feeling this lightheaded from oral, much less giving. But he’s starstruck under you, sucking and sucking and sucking – fuck he doesn’t know if he’s even taking breaths.

“Feels so fucking good,” you whisper, a hand going to knot in his hair. His scalp tingles pleasantly where you hold onto him, his eyes fluttering shut. Your hips move slowly over his face. “Fuck keep going.”

Pride swells in his chest. Your voice is airy, breaths short and stilted and overwhelmed as he eats you vigorously. His fingers dimple your skin, pressing into the meat of your ass as he rocks you on his tongue, jaw slack, tongue flat for you to let you fuck yourself on his face the way you want.

Yoongi feels you drip down his face, hears the wet-smack of his mouth against your cunt. He moans. Buries his face further, letting you grind yourself on his nose, chin, mouth lips, anything. He doesn’t care, sticky-coated to the jaw, so fucked out from pleasing you that he almost blacks out when you cum.

Something happens.

He doesn’t know how to describe it – it’s like for a moment, everything goes dark. Perhaps he does blackout. Perhaps he wasn’t breathing. He can’t remember. All he knows is that between one heartbeat and the next, there’s a moment of pure darkness accompanied by a laugh that chills his spine.

And then your mouth is on him, spit and cum making the glide of your mouths sticky-sweet.

Yoongi sucks your tongue into his mouth, pressing his fingers gently to the back of your head, pulling you closer closer closer. He just wants you closer, his stomach burning with a sudden hunger for you. He feels on fire, skin too-warm where your chest slides against his, sweaty and flushed.

Sheets stick to every part of him. He’s aware of the sweat that slides down his neck, a cool finger of relief as you press him further and further into the mattress. He feels like he’s sinking, entering a new domain where he’s no longer in his room – he's just with you. Somewhere. Anywhere.

Your fingers claw at his hair, pulling the strands to pin him to the mattress as you lift yourself, looking down at Yoongi. He blinks, stars in his eyes as he starts up at you, looming. Glowing. Beautiful. His hands are on your hips, a sparking current humming just beneath the surface of your skin.

You feel alive and vibrant.

A moan escapes Yoongi’s mouth, pleasure rolling through him as you grind your cunt on his throbbing cock, warm and wet. His eyes flutter, Yoongi squirming under you, legs kicking and twitching as you tease him. Just the glide of you on his shaft makes him shiver, the pit of his stomach clenching.

“Please,” Yoongi rasps. His fingers dig into your hips, begging. Pleading. Desperate. “Please please please please.”

“You look so pretty when you beg.” Your grinding increases and the room spins. His hands fall from your hips to the sheets, fingers fisted tightly in the fabric. “You’re so beautiful, Yoongi. My Yoongi. Mine. Mine mine mine.”

Your words are lost on him. There’s only the firm touch of your hand against his cock, gripped tight at the base as you lift yourself. He feels his cockhead catch on your swollen entrance and he lets out a strangled noise. He doesn’t know if he can stop himself from cumming. He is bursting at the seams with heat, an inferno so intense he swears that the world catches fire as you slide down his cock, warm and tight.

“Shiiit,” Yoongi hisses. He takes a deep breath and holds it, hips twitching where you straddle his waist, letting him suffer beneath you.

“Feels good.” You lean forward, hands pressed to his chest to support your weight. Yoongi’s eyes flutter open. He blinks at you through wet lashes. The room is so dark he can only make out the barest features on your face, but he sees your eyes clearly. Looking at him. Watching. Hungry. “So good,” you repeat. “So fucking deep.”

Nails bite into the skin of his chest. He feels his skin smart. The hot bead of blood that forms. He doesn’t care, watching as slowly, you lift your hips, your walls hugging every inch of Yoongi. He lets out a shaky breath, hands settling on your waist. He plants his feet in the bed, angling himself better as you reach the tip of his cock before sinking back down.

Heaven and hell. Yoongi wavers between both, gritting his teeth to keep from coming, to keep the feeling of you gripping him tight going. He doesn’t want it to end, it feels so good but it’s wonderful agony, fighting the curl in his stomach, the twitching of his abs, the threat of exploding.

Yoongi's eyes are drawn to where you fuck yourself on him, sticky arousal turning silver in the single shaft of moonlight that spills across the bed where you’re joined. He can’t look away, entranced by the wet smack of your ass on his thighs, the way you just fucking take him.

It lights a fire in him more intensely than the solar flare that threatens to send him spinning into his orgasm. Yoongi growls, digging his nails into your skin, half-moons on smooth flesh as he grits his teeth and fucks up into you. You gasp, nails raking down his chest as he jostles you. His breath comes out as stilted hisses behind clenched teeth.

“Touch yourself for me,” he grits out. “Wanna feel you come all over me – please.”

“Gonna,” you pant, head falling to his chest, claws leaving pink lines on pale flesh. You slide one hand down his body, making him groan as he fucks you with abandon. You gasp, hand working your clit between your writhing bodies. “Gonna come.”

“Please - for me.” He thrusts hard, thighs trembling with the effort, holding his breath as his muscles squeeze. He can feel you tense, pussy clenching so tight he curses and stops, letting you pulse around him as you moan and an unintelligible string of curses that sounds... like another language. “Fuck, just like that.”

Yoongi feels himself come apart. His universe shatters and he floats among the stars. Weightless. Happy. Tired. He feels nothing and everything, a soft frequency of... something dancing along his skin. A soft buzz. Pleasant and warm.

He doesn’t know how long he exists in that space. He can still smell notes of cedar, jasmine and amber. It's stronger now, with a touch of something else... something burning. He leans into the smell and it wraps around him, soft hands around his middle and petal-soft lips against his cheek.

Yoongi becomes vaguely aware that it’s you curled into his side, nose hidden in his neck, chest rising and falling against his arm. It grounds him a little. Brings him back into a dark room that is too obscure to be sure it’s his bedroom at all.

As he drifts off into sleep, he remembers the feeling of your tongue against his neck and nothing more.

Cedar. Jasmine. Amber.

It wakes Yoongi up. His stomach feels empty. His hands seek your warmth, palming your ass, pulling your hips flush to his. He doesn’t open his eyes, content to feel your heat. Again, something like electricity thrums under your skin, tickling his wandering hands.

Your mouth catches his. Pulls him further from sleep. He feels his skin ache from your teeth and nails the night before. Feels the weight of something inside of him that wasn’t there before, although he cannot put into words what it is.

Even in the morning, your mouth is sweet. Gluttonous. You suck his bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling softly followed by a light giggle. He smiles into the next kiss, sloppy and filled with too much tongue but he lets you taste him.

Yoongi swears there is an echo of your taste from the night before. It’s enough to kickstart desire in him, detaching his mouth to plant kisses down your neck. Chest. Stomach. His tongue licks a trail down your velvet skin.

In a shuffle of sheets and skin, you lay back for him, pliant. He’s awake now, pressing your thighs open, teeth nipping the tender flesh. You giggle and the sound makes him pause, lips pressed to your leg, eyes looking up at you in the dim light of the morning. Or night. It’s hard to tell what time it is, here with you in this bed.

Glowing eyes look at him. Round. Soft. Curious. You watch Yoongi with rapt attention, lip pulled between your teeth. Spread. Eager. Ethereal.

Yoongi drops his gaze, groaning when he sees how fucking wet you are. He pulls you closer, sliding a hand under your ass to provide support. Curious, he brushes his thumb up and down your folds, collecting your essence as he does.

“So swollen and wet,” he mumbles, morning voice deep and scratchy. “You’re always so ready to be eaten, hmm?”

You nod. “Please, Kitty.”

The new nickname makes him pause, thumb resting on your clit. He can almost feel your cunt throb under the pad of his finger as he applies a little pressure, watching you whine and kick your legs a bit. He grins.

“Kitty?” he asks as he resumes playing with you. His thumb dips into your hole, ring of muscles clenching around him. His grin spreads as he pulls it away, watching you fight with the loss.

“You have- ughhh – cat eyes. Pretty. Soft. Smart. Kitty.”

He hums, dipping his head forward to give you a single kitten lick. He shuts his eyes and sighs heavily, your taste heavy on his tongue. You taste just as good as the night before. “Cute,” he murmurs, more to himself. “I like it, baby.”

Yoongi doesn’t wait for a response. He presses in, tongue lapping at you hungrily, refusing to let you drip without his mouth for another moment.

Greedy.

You’re greedy. You always are. Yoongi isn’t sure what day it is. It might be the same night as when he brought you home or it could be the weekend or it could be next week. He somewhat remembers the taste of a meal. Some cool water. But he doesn’t recall when he made it or when he showered.

He only knows he showered because he smelled the mint soap on your skin a few moments ago when you had your mouth attached to his throat.

Now, your mouth swallows his cock whole, throat pulsing around him. He curses, fingers twisting in your hair as he listens to you choke. Feels your drool dripping down his thighs. You relent, pulling back with a slick sound. He looks down at you between half-moon eyes, lashes fluttering.

You’re a vision: bruised lips smeared in spit and cum, chin covered in slick, watery, round eyes that blink up at him, innocent despite the fact that you rub the flushed tip of his cock against your abused mouth.

“Fuck,” he swears, watching your devilish tongue snake out to lap at his dark tip. “Fucking cock hungry, huh?”

You nod your head, trailing your tongue along the bottom of his shaft, taking time to suck slopping kisses to his skin. He can’t look away, even as you pump him lazily with your small hand, ravenous little mouth sucking coyly at his balls.

His fist tights in your hair. You look up, tears spilling over rounded cheeks. You look angelic at that moment, weeping before him. He nearly busts right there.

“Does Kitty like when I do that?” You ask softly, voice almost a whisper. Your voice changes, he’s noticed. Sometimes coming out dark velvet, other times tangerine-sweet. “Am I a good girl, Kitty?”

You always call him that. He wasn’t sure about it at first, but with a mouth full of his precum and neck covered in his teeth marks, Yoongi thinks you can call him whatever the fuck you want. He’s never seen a creature so drunk off fucking him before and he’s no better. All he wants to do is fucking live in you.

“Such a good girl,” Yoongi promises. He holds your head with one hand and your chin with the other, pulling your bottom lip down with one thumb. His touch is soft and reverent. You preen for him, smiling around his thumb as he slips it in your mouth and presses on your tongue. Feels the spit and god knows what else there. “Come on, baby. Suck.”

And you do. Yoongi’s eyes roll back in his head. He falls backward on his bed and it feels like he has passed through a portal to somewhere else. He floats. All he knows is your mouth, unforgiving. Your tongue, sinful.

And when Yoongi comes down your throat, and when you pull off of him and smile at him with the slow drip of it, Yoongi feels like he’s in fucking heaven.

Monday he calls out of work.

Crunching numbers at an accounting firm seems like hell in comparison to where he is now. You’re bent over the kitchen counter, drooling on the granite as he slowly drags his cock through your drenched heat. He ignores the spilled glass of water next to you. Instead, he watches himself disappear deep into your cunt, collecting cream on the base of his cock every time he pulls out.

Yoongi senses you looking at him. You are, eyes intense and heavy. Your gaze shifts so often he can barely keep up – thinks maybe he imagines the way you go from soft, round-eyed sweetheart to a siren-eyed vixen.

It’s the vixen look at him now. And as though you can read his mind, you slick your tongue out of your mouth, bubble gum pink and eager, eyes dragging down to where he works himself in and out.

Yoongi pulls out slowly, running a finger along your arousal smeared along his shaft, and leans forward, thrusting in hard. You pant, tongue still out and eyes focused on his as Yoongi delicately places his cum-slick finger in your mouth. Presses your cream on your tongue.

Your lips close around his finger, tongue swirling around the digit as you shut your eyes and hollow your cheek, gently sucking your arousal until there’s nothing left.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispers, in awe of you.

And you are. There’s nothing you won’t do for him. Nothing Yoongi won’t do for you. So he slams into you, deep deep deep, and grunts until you’re coming around him for what feels like the hundredth time since he’s met you.

Yoongi startles awake. He blinks away a dream that he immediately cannot remember. His skin is clammy and his sheets stick to him all over. He kicks them off, heart hammering as he jumps to his feet, trying to get away from the bed.

He doesn’t know why, but he feels danger near him with every slam of his heart.

For a few moments, he’s in total darkness. He can’t make out the shape of his dresser. Or the pile of clothes in the hamper. He can’t see any light filtering through the window. He knows there’s a streetlight out there – why isn’t the light streaming through his curtains?

Panic threatens to seize him. He takes a deep breath and presses the heels of his palms to his eyes, rubbing fiercely. He opens them, bursts of starlight blinding him until they fade finally and he can see.

There’s a shadow in front of him, all razor teeth and red eyes.

Yoongi screams, flinching backward. He topples over and feels weightless like he’s falling through time and space. The moment of fear stretches out long – too long – and for a second he thinks he will die. His heart is beating too hard in his chest, his mind is screaming too loud, and the adrenaline threatens to crack him open and spill out on the floor.

He hits the curtain behind him and fists the fabric, ripping the entire rod and holders down backward as he goes. Streetlight pours into the room. He thrashes, blind and screaming among the now ruined curtains, the curtain rod, and drywall dust.

Yoongi frees himself, grabbing the rod to defend himself against the creature in a last-ditch effort to live.

Grey light saturates the room. There’s no shadow creature with teeth and red eyes. There’s just you in the middle of his bed, the reflection of the street light turning your doe-eyes to glowing coins. You’re in a t-shirt of his, soft and crinkled, hair messy. Lip trembling.

“Kitty?” Your voice is small. Almost childlike. “Kitty are you okay?”

The panic beat of his heart slows. He swallows down nausea and realizes his shaking, the remaining waves of adrenaline taking their toll. Yoongi lets go of the curtain rod and nods, pressing his head into the wall.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps. Throat dry. You move on the bed – more of a prowl – and you flick the lamp light on. Warmth rushes into the room and with it, relief. “Thank you.”

“What happened, Kitty?”

“A nightmare. I got up and … I don’t know. I thought I saw something.”

You sit on your knees. Hands in your lap, one palm splayed on your thigh, the other lifted toward him. Beckoning. Open. Warm. Safe. He peels himself from the wreckage by the window and walks toward you, feeling as though there is a string between you and him, tethering you to him. Reeling him in.

When Yoongi’s hand touches yours, exhaustion bleeds into him. Safe. He is safe. You smile and there are no razor teeth. Just kiss-stained lips as you shuffle backward, pulling Yoongi back into the bed.

“Come sleep, Kitty.”

“Okay.”

Carefully, he turns off the lamp. The streetlight floods his room now, but it’s comforting, the grey wash of the world enough that he can see anything creeping in the shadows.

Eventually, he falls back asleep with the slow drag of your hand back and forth across his forehead, and your mouth pressing gentle sucks to the side of his throat.

“Where are you going?”

Yoongi almost smiles at the pout on your face. You stand in his kitchen, brows pinched, mouth furious. You’re in another one of his shirts – there is nothing else for you to wear. His grin spreads as he comes around the counter, placing his messenger bag down.

Somehow you seem so much smaller in the daylight. Yoongi swears when you’re riding him in the early hours of the morning or when he has you on all fours fucking you deep into his mattress, you’re a force to be reckoned with. A fierce creature feeds on carnal pleasure only.

But now in the light of day, with your bottom lip jutting out and scowling brows, Yoongi thinks there is nothing more adorable. His perfect baby. You reach out, opening and closing your hands and he laughs.

“Work,” he answers gently, pulling you toward him. You don’t fight him. You never fight him. Yoongi is always your top priority – you’ve made that obvious. He smells the cedar. Jasmine. Amber. His head swims and for a moment, he forgot what you asked.

Moments like this with your skin touching, that high-frequency current that is unfamiliar but feels so good – Yoongi forgets himself. Every time he touches you, he’s somewhere else.

His phone rings and he remembers he’s supposed to leave. “I have work.”

Your scowl gets worse. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I want to be with you.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. When he pulls away, you’re almost snarling, gripping him like iron. He sighs and squeezes your hips for reassurance. “I’ll leave a little early, yeah? For you.”

“Do you promise?”

“Of course, I promise.” Your lip wobbles and he leans forward again, nipping you. “Get some sleep. You woke me up very early this morning, hmm?”

You don’t answer, but you loosen your grip.

When he gets in the car, he sees the curtain in his living room shift and he grins. Cute.

Work drags. Yoongi’s in a bad mood. His coffee is extra bitter. The water tastes off. The fluorescents in his office are too bright, prompting him to turn them off. When he begins auditing his client’s monthly spending, the numbers swim on screen.

Yoongi takes his glasses off. Puts them back on. He swears that he sees symbols and that the screen glitches, flashing between letters and numbers and… something he’s unsure of. When he rubs his eyes, the screen is just numbers in an Excel sheet.

Sighing in defeat, he glances at the clock. It’s only been an hour.

“Fuck.”

He pulls his phone out, thumb hovering over the screen. Your contact information is in his phone, right? The silence in his office is deafening. It presses in on him as he stares at his phone, unseeing. Why didn’t he have your phone number? Shouldn’t a boyfriend have their-

A knock at the door startles him. He drops his phone, mumbling an apology as he bends down to get it before righting himself and looking at his director.

“How are you feeling?”

Yoongi shrugs. “A little off.”

And… it’s true. Yoongi’s head hurts suddenly, a migraine slamming on the confines of his skull. His too-bitter coffee burns in his stomach. The back of his neck feels too hot and his hands shake as he puts his phone on his desk.

“You don’t look too well. Maybe take the day?”

Yoongi nods. Sways a little when he stands up to retrieve his things and turns his computer off. On the drive home, the headache recedes a little. He grips the wheel tight, taking deep breaths as he tries to steady the feeling in the pit of his stomach.

In the drive, Yoongi takes a deep breath. The pressure in his head is gone and his stomach doesn’t feel as rotten as it did twenty minutes ago. He makes a mental note to look up his symptoms when he gets inside – perhaps he has the flu. It won’t do to feel this way before his client’s quarterly financial reports are due.

Thankfully, when Yoongi steps into his house, he feels much better.

Feels fine as he drops to his knees in the entryway, tongue buried hungrily in your cunt as he presses you hard against the door, drinking in every drop. Above him, you tremble and cry, begging him never to leave again.

When you cum on his tongue, creamsicle sweet, he thinks he never will.

Pain shoots up Yoongi’s foot as he stubs his toe making his way to the bathroom. He can barely see in his room now that he has fixed the curtains – and put blackout ones at your request – and the floor is covered with his shoes and chargers and boxes of snacks you keep in his bedroom like a nest.

He has never in his life seen someone with an appetite for junk food like you – especially sweets.

Yoongi opens the bathroom, the gentle, white glow of the night light casting a dull halo against the whitewash walls. He glances in the mirror and his heart launches into his throat. His hand slams against the door for balance and a moment of terror bleeds him dry when he sees the shadow behind him, white teeth flashing and red eyes.

Whirling around, Yoongi’s hand shoots for the light, painfully jamming fingers against stucco. He manages to flip the switch while his heart pulses in his throat, terror working its way through him like an injection straight into his cardiovascular system.

Light spills into the room, so bright that he flinches, closing his eyes for a second. When he opens them, there’s nothing. It’s just his messy room, covered in clothes, empty and half-full bottles of lube, a generous amount of junk food, and you.

Asleep. Soft against his pillows, lips parted slightly.

Breathing a huge sigh of relief, Yoongi chastises himself and shuts the bathroom door. A few splashes of cold water from the tap do the trick, calming him down and cooling the red splotches of anxiety blooming on his neck.

When he returns to bed, your hands seek his warmth, making grabbing motions even in sleep. He indulges you, sliding closer. Tucking you into his chest. You hum in your sleep, that vibrating feeling that lives just under your skin ever-present.

Gently you lean forward, mouth seeking as you press your lips against the soft spot under his ear. He shivers as the innocent kiss turns into a soft suckle, pulling skin between teeth your tongue pressed against his flesh. But you don’t wake up. You seem content to lay in his arms with the gentle pull of your mouth against his skin, smelling like cedar. Jasmine. Amber.

And he falls asleep, moment of terror forgotten.

Yoongi has a problem.

Time management was always one of his strong suits. As someone who lived an organized little life in an organized little home, he thrived on order, repetition of days, and knowing what to expect each day.

Except now Yoongi never remembers what day it is. He hardly remembers how he spends his day. But what he does remember are moments with you. Bodies against bodies. The press of his fingers in your sticky cunt. Your curious fingers, pressing into the tight rim of his ass, pulling out orgasms so deep that it takes him hours to move.

Now, you’re pressed against him on the couch, eyes fixed on the TV. He watches you and you watch the screen, completely focused on the world of Spirited Away. His lips twitch in a smile and he yawns. You snuggle closer to him, nearly attached. It’s second nature to you, to fasten yourself to him. He doesn’t mind, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

When Yoongi’s phone rings, it interrupts everything. You immediately hiss, looking toward the ringing device on the counter. He can’t remember the last time his phone rang but he begins to lift himself off of the couch.

Your fingers dig in. “Finish the movie.”

It’s a demand. He laughs as your brow pinches. “I’ll be right back, let me just see who it is.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why don’t you want to watch the movie with me?”

Your voice has grown small again. Not the sultry purr he is used to in the middle of the night when you mouth at his cock, hard before he’s even awake. Not the demanding crack of a whip when you order him to come.

This voice is tiny, a soft thing that immediately draws him to look at you. He cradles your face, your big eyes looking at him with tears rimming them. His stomach drops and he hushes you, thumbs brushing back and forth.

“Fuck – baby why are you crying?”

“Why don’t you want to watch the movie, Kitty?”

“Hey, Kitty wants to watch the movie.” He croons and you pull yourself into his lap, arms going around his neck and winding in his hair. He keeps a soft grip on your face, eyes searching. That thrum is just beneath the surface, like a beating heart. “I just have to answer the phone, baby. I still want to watch the movie.”

You shake your head. “You don’t.”

“Of course I do.”

It isn’t often that Yoongi upsets you. He vaguely recalls one time when he left for work, you had been a bit sad. But ever since he’d started working from home – wait, he works from home? He shakes the question from his thoughts, saving it for later.

It isn’t often that Yoongi upsets you. He vaguely recalls one time when he left for work, you had been a bit sad. And now you sit on his lap and he hates himself for the way a tear slips down your face, turned into a diamond from the reflection of the TV.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, heart aching in his chest. He leans back. He pulls you flush against his chest. You tuck your face in his neck, your favorite spot to nuzzle and he feels the gentle tuck of your mouth, the tiny suckle of your teeth against his neck. Your comfort.

It isn’t often that Yoongi upsets you. He vaguely -

He doesn’t remember. What was he thinking about? He doesn’t know.

Yoongi loops his arms around you and squeezes you tight. And his eyes flutter shut, suddenly tired and lulled to sleep by the gentle pull of your mouth on his skin.

“Come look at this cat,” Yoongi laughs, crouching down on the back porch. The tabby rubs itself between his legs, purring as it twists figure eights. “It’s so friendly, baby. Come say hi.”

Night sky stretches over the city. It’s colder outside – almost Halloween, maybe. Yoongi lost the calendar in his house and he only turns the computer on if he has to sign on for work, which he rarely does these days.

You peek from the door, looking at the cat rubbing its face on Yoongi’s hand. He looks up at you and smiles. You’re swimming in a sweater of his, though your legs are bare. His mouth waters at the thought of tasting you again – he can’t ever get enough, licking the sweetness from between your thighs only to finish by fucking himself into you until he blacks out.

The blackouts happen more after sex now.

“He’s sweet,” Yoongi promises, holding out another hand to you. “Like you.”

Tentatively, you step outside of the door. The floorboard creaks under your step, drawing the cat’s attention. It happens so fast that Yoongi falls from his crouched position, sitting abruptly on the floor. The cat lets out a terrible sound, somewhere between a horrible yowl and a hair-raising hiss.

A blur of claws and teeth, Yoongi yells as the sharp talons catch him, letting the cat go. It becomes a streak of fur and screeching, vanishing from the yard.

You rush to him, dropping down to hold his scratched hands, blood surfacing.

“No!” You look up at him, holding his hand gently to your chest. He feels the strange hum, the heartbeat that… isn’t a beating heart as much as a constant buzz. “Are you okay, Kitty? You’re hurt.”

“It’s okay.” He smiles. The fear in your eyes is heartwarming. You love him – he knows this. He feels it. “Sorry it startled you.”

Autumn sun beats down on Yoongi as he goes to peel logs from the stack of firewood in the backyard. As he jogs down the steps, he slows, frowning. There’s a dead tabby at the foot of the stairs, broken body and dark blood smeared underneath.

“Weird,” he mutters, rushing to get some firewood. “I’ve never seen cats here before. Poor thing.”

When he goes back inside the house, he sees you sitting on the counter. Spread. Finger tracing up and down glistening folds, swollen cunt begging for his mouth. Yoongi drops the wood. He zeros in, licking his lips as you spread your legs a little wider.

“What a perfect fucking pussy,” Yoongi grins. “That for me?”

You nod. “Please, Kitty.”

Yoongi forgets about the dead cat.

“I want candy.” Yoongi looks up at you, brows raised. You’re standing in the middle of the aisle at the grocery store, chewing your bottom lip as you look at him with hopeful eyes. Yoongi immediately softens. Feels his heart flutter. “Is that okay?”

“Sure.” He looks up at the aisle names. “It’s three aisles over. Can you get what you want while I go back and get milk? I forgot.”

You hesitate for a moment, a moment of fear on your face. Before he can brush away your fears with a simple kiss, you take a deep breath and give him your bravest smile. He preens, proud as you give a confident nod and dart off in the direction of candy.

Yoongi is impressed by you. Leaving the house is hard for you – always has been. The two of you mostly stay inside, locked in your little world. Yoongi likes it that way. Loves knowing after dinner you’ll be nested on the couch, watching him with inquisitive eyes and asking him to put on a new show or to continue the anime you’ve been binging.

Every new experience for you brings stars to your eyes. He loves that about you – loves the way you go awestruck while watching old anime that Yoongi adores, or the way you hum and spin in circles to music he shows you.

Yoongi remembers hearing once that people live many lives. He thinks that if that’s true, you must be in your first life, curious about everything. Surprised by the world. And he gets to watch it over and over, the way you grin when something startles you or when you furiously pout because you don’t like something.

Grocery store trips are new for you. The first time, you’d been stitched to his side, refusing to separate from him. Cagey and flashing mean eyes at everyone. Now, though, Yoongi doesn’t worry as he pulls open one of the glass doors in the cold section, looking for milk.

“Yoongi?” He turns mid-reach for a carton of milk, the cold air hitting him in the face and turning his cheeks pink, glass frosting with the humidity rushing into the fridge. Taehyung is standing behind him, hands shoved into pockets. “Holy shit it is you.”

Yoongi gives Taehyung a funny smile, pulling the milk from the fridge and adding it to his cart. “Why wouldn’t it be? How are you?”

“Dude, how are you? You don’t answer anyone’s calls, I heard you started working at home from some sort of illness, and you refuse to answer your door when we come by.” Taehyung’s face is picture-perfect concern, brown eyes fixed on Yoongi, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. “Why can’t you tell us what’s going on? It’s been weeks.”

“What are you talking about? I talked to you two weeks ago.”

Taehyung cocks his head. His brows furrow and an unsettling feeling flips Yoongi’s stomach. He remembers the call exactly. Recites their conversation back to Taehyung, but before Yoongi can finish, his friend is shaking his head.

“We never had that conversation, Yoongi.”

Taehyung takes a step closer. Yoongi’s heart starts pounding. He remembers talking to Taehyung. He had been standing in the kitchen when his phone rang, and you had handed him his phone. Yoongi remembers because he had been half-paying attention to the conversation, transfixed by the way your eyes caught the light and the way you watched him catch up with Taehyung.

But… another thought swirls in Yoongi’s mind. A vision of you slamming the phone down on the counter, shattering it. Yoongi begging you to stop – stop something – and then your soft lips on him.

He shakes his head, setting the thoughts free.

“What’s going on?” Taehyung asks, moving past his cart to get closer. Yoongi backs up. He doesn’t know why, but it’s automatic. He feels panic surge as Taehyung pauses. “Are you sick or-“

Maybe he is. Yoongi knows he talked to Taehyung and yet… doubt wiggles into his mind. Eats at it like a worm. There feels like there is a box somewhere tucked in the recesses of his memory, shielded and without a key. If he applies pressure on it, he gets a headache.

Licking his lips, Yoongi places his trembling hands on the cart. Looks at Taehyung. Sees the pleading in his friend’s eyes. Yoongi opens his mouth to ask when Taehyung thinks they last spoke and -

“Kitty?”

Your soft voice cuts the anxiety in half. Yoongi’s thoughts ease as you appear a few feet away from them, bags of candy in hand. Your doll face morphs into unease when you look at Taehyung. Yoongi wonders why that is – you’ve talked to Taehyung plenty of times. You encourage Yoongi to call him.

“You?” Taehyung asks. The vehemence in his voice startles Yoongi. “You’re still around? Jesus Yoongi, have you been shacked up with some girl you met at a bar this entire time?”

Words have consequences. Taehyung’s immediately has an effect, your expression going from soft and sweet to something that makes Yoongi’s hands grip the push-bar on the cart tightly.

“He has nothing to do with it.” Your voice is a layered hiss. A tingle slides down Yoongi’s neck – familiar and dangerous. He has the sudden urge to bolt, but his feet are rooted to the ground as you advance, putting yourself between the two men. “Yoongi hasn’t been feeling well. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“I’m one of his best friends!”

Taehyung is one of his best friends. And Jimin. And Seokjin. Yoongi remembers sitting on a stool at Serendipity, listening to Old Ass Han tell him some superstition about female demons who snatched one of his sons in the middle of the night. Jimin had laughed so hard and made Old Ass Han so mad that Jimin covered his tab for the night.

It was such a funny memory that the next Halloween, Jimin had dressed up as a sultry, female demon. Yoongi vaguely recalls laughing with them into the night, especially when Jimin picked up a guy to go home with that night.

Yoongi is full of those memories – at least he was. He thinks he is.

The little place in his mind that feels inaccessible cracks a little and Yoongi winces, a headache splitting him open. He clutches his temple as a bolt of pain lances through his skull. Then your hands are on him, gentle and cradling his face. You’re saying something but he can’t hear you over the high-pitched ringing in his ears.

Colors dance across his vision as Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, trying to pant through the pain. The pain doesn’t come from that tiny little box in his mind – it comes from somewhere else. Pulling him away from whatever is hidden there, in that dark little forgotten corner.

Suddenly, it becomes too much and darkness swallows him whole.

The last thing Yoongi remembers is the gentle kiss of your mouth on his neck.

Yoongi has a problem.

He’s getting headaches all the time. Sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night with them, sharp pain digging behind his eyes. It always worsens when he tries to recall the dreams he has before he wakes up – he knows he has dreams. They’re on the tip of his tongue. But the more he thinks about them, the more he tries to draw up what he imagined, the more the pain grows.

The bed sinks as you crawl in next to him. It’s too hot in bed. Sheets cling to Yoongi’s skin. He feels like there’s a furnace under the mattress, burning through and making everything sweaty and sticky. He shifts a little away from you – your body is always warm, skin heated with the thrum of energy beneath the surface.

Cedar. Jasmine. Amber. Your scent swells as you tuck yourself close to him. Not touching, but Yoongi can sense you there, an awareness tingling along his skin. It’s happened a few times, where a second awareness blinks an eye open and Yoongi feels on edge. Like there is suddenly an instinct inside of him that has awakened, one he is unfamiliar with.

That awareness yawns. Blooms at the back of his mind, where that same throbbing ache has settled. Yoongi tries to steady his breathing, but he can feel his pulse against his pillow, thumping faster and faster as your cloying scent muddles his thoughts.

You don’t say anything. You don’t reach out and touch him. You just lay there, silent and omnipresent. Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, and for the first time in a very long time, he wishes that you would go to the other room and watch TV. You love watching TV. Sometimes he finds you sitting in front of it on the floor, knees tucked to your chest, chin on top of your knees while you watch a variety of shows.

Though it seems you have settled on Tokyo Ghoul as your favorite.

“Kitty?” you whisper. He holds his breath. Perhaps if he pretends he is asleep, you’ll go to sleep too. Long beats of silence stretch between you, filled only with the sound of Yoongi’s measured breathing. “I’m sorry.”

He pauses. “Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.”

Yoongi swallows past a knot in his throat. Every muscle in his body is clenching. His fingers are fisted in his blankets, and he’s curled into a ball. He doesn’t remember feeling so braced. He tries to relax, letting himself melt in the bed a little.

“For what?”

“You… need space.”

He doesn’t need to turn around to hear the tremble in your voice. You sniffle a little. The lamp on his bed flickers, catching his attention. He watches the flicker of the bulb as you cry softly behind him. He wants to turn around – wants to gather you in his arms and tuck you into his chest and yet… he doesn’t.

“A little,” Yoongi admits softly.

“Okay.”

Licking his lips, Yoongi steels himself. He rolls over in bed to look at you. You’re buried in one of his hoodies and the blanket he likes to sleep with on the couch. He can barely make out your cherubic face. Your round eyes blink at him, pools of light in the darkness of the hoodie and blanket.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Okay.”

He softens. It’s not so warm in the bed anymore, so he reaches across the space, finding your hand clutched in the blanket. You let him pry your fingers open and he traces your palm. “Just a little space, okay? I can sleep on the couch tonight.”

You shake your head. “No.”

“Baby-“

“I’m not tired.”

Your voice is firm. He knows that voice – it’s the one that precedes a tantrum if he’s not careful. He nods, pulling a hand away and sighing, closing his eyes. He is tired. He realizes just how tired he is.

“Good night, Kitty.”

Most days it’s easier to placate you.

Yoongi feels like he is worn at the edges. Hot water runs down his neck, his back. Relieves a deep ache that has begun to grow on his bones, pained turned lichen. He feels like a watercolor painting with too much liquid medium, running at the edges and blurring across a once-beautiful canvas.

Sleep comes every night, but Yoongi still wakes up tired. He misses meetings even though he has been working from home for… however long. He doesn’t know where his cell phone is. He lost it somewhere in the house – doesn’t need it much.

Water drips onto the floor as he steps out of the shower. He watches it run down milky legs, soaking into the towel. Steam permeates the air and slicks across the mirror, Yoongi’s reflection as opaque and bleary as he feels.

Yoongi heaves a heavy yawn, wiping a hand across the steam in preparation to shave. When his eyes look up at the three-paneled mirror, a shadowed creature with rows of gnashing teeth and red eyes is behind him.

A scream rips its way out of his throat, the terror is so awful that Yoongi’s knees buckles. He hits the tile hard, head smacking the cabinet. His world explodes into color as he blinks the stars from his eyes, scrambling with damp legs, slipping uselessly on the steamed tile as he backs himself into the corner of the wall and sink.

There’s nothing there. Just an open doorway.

For a few seconds, it’s just Yoongi’s heart pounding so hard that his stomach roils. He fumbles for the toilet, flipping the lid and rolling to his knees to heave the contents of dinner into the bowl. He gasps for air, stinging his vomit-burned throat as he throws up again. Stomach-churning. Lungs screaming.

When he flushes and settles against the bathtub, he hears the TV in the living room. Cool air drifts in from his bedroom. He closes his eyes and takes in deep breaths, counting in for seven and out for seven. There’s the soft patter of your feet on the carpet, and he can sense you in the doorway.

His spine always tingles when you’re around.

“Kitty? Are you okay?”

“Don’t feel good.”

“Oh kitty,” you whisper. He keeps his eyes closed. You slide closer to him and your hands are warm. When they touch his face, he feels a little energy pour back into him and he opens his eyes. You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, still. “I’m sorry.”

“Why sorry?”

You chew on your lip. “I’m sorry.”

It feels like you say that a lot these days. Yoongi nods his head and closes his eyes again as you lean forward and press yourself to his side, giving him a gentle kiss.

The headache is bad. But he has to know. Lays in his bed writhing in the sheets.

Ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts.

Memories crack across his mind, each one hurting more than the last.

A creature of shadow. Blacking out after sex. A dead cat that hadn’t always been dead. Your innocent eyes. Your angry eyes. You smashing his phone to pieces. A doctor forging him a medical note. Blood on your hands and face as you came out of the doctor’s office.

For the first time in a long time, Yoongi has energy. He feels more himself. Clearer. He gets up early in the morning and makes himself coffee. He sees you lurking near the fridge, throwing him wary glances. You’re a little more worn than usual: sallow cheeks, bags under your eyes. Your eyes are as starry.

When he asks you what’s wrong, you don’t answer. You duck into the bedroom and shut the door firmly behind you. He stares, a little confused and hurt before sighing. You’re touchy sometimes, and on the days like this where you’re more like a feral cat than a preening girlfriend, he knows to keep his distance.

Yoongi shrugs and tosses the sugar packet in the trash, frowning. There are empty bottoms of foam that are stained red - meat packages, he realizes. He doesn’t recall having steak at all this week, but perhaps you’re thawing it in the fridge for dinner.

He shrugs and goes to his office, leaving you to your devices.

A morning meeting kickstarts his day, and Yoongi forgets about it.

Yoongi has a problem.

You’re worse. You don’t want to come out of his room and you won’t go near the light. There are harsh lines around your eyes and he swears your teeth are sharper. More lethal. You won’t sleep in the same bed as he is.

Worst of all? Yoongi feels great. Feels like perhaps it was just a depressive episode he was in. He no longer feels like he is melted together at the edges, barely hanging on. But it does mean that he’s getting frustrated with you.

“Feral,” he mutters as he walks into his office after you snarled at him and then proceeded to cry because you wanted him to take the day off. “Sometimes I swear she is feral.”

Soft lips wake Yoongi up in the middle of the night. He stirs, feeling a tingle run down his spine. He can smell cedar, jasmine and amber and smiles. You’re pressed against him, mouth seeking his delicately, though there is some urgency behind your kisses.

Yoongi opens his mouth to you, an invitation. You suck his tongue into your mouth greedily and arousal shoots to his cock, your mouth doing wonders on his tongue. Fuck he knows you like to suck him off like that too, all greedy and sloppy and spit-slicked.

Your hands pull at his shirt and you kiss him with more fervor, lips becoming teeth, moans becoming hisses. When Yoongi rolls onto his back, pulling your hips on top of him, the dynamic changes.

A gasp escapes his kiss-bruised lips, eyes flying open as you mark his throat. Harsh stings of teeth followed quickly by lavish licks of your tongue. It’s messy and you leave a trail of spit dripping down his neck, making him squirm underneath you, cock tight against his pajama shorts.

“Fuck,” he moans when you suck that spot under his ear he loves. “Greedy devil.”

“Yes,” you shoot back, voice firm. Your hands seek his, pulling them from where they massage your ass to pin them above his head, your grip iron. “Please.”

There’s no way she’s human.

Taehyung’s words flash through Yoongi’s mind when he looks up at you. Your pupils are dilated, two black disks that absorb the barest hint of light in the room. He shivers, afraid of falling into your dark eyes and never finding his way back home.

Have your eyes always been that soulless? No, he thinks.

“Please,” you say again. “Please let me have you.”

He frowns. “You can always have me.”

You shake your head. “Not always. Too much. I take… I take too much. But now not enough. I just…” Your lip trembles and where you hold his wrist begins to ache. He whimpers and you hush him, your fingers loosening a little. “I just need some. Not a lot.”

It’s hard to understand what you’re asking for. Yoongi is lost in the sensation of fluttering in his stomach and the way blood rushes through his body. He feels high when you dip one of your hands below the waistband of his pajamas, taking a hold of his cock in your hand, thumb brushing precum from the tip.

You always take care of Yoongi. His eyes flutter shut as he feels a steady static build in his brain. Your touch is careful but deliberate, each stroke of your hand and squeeze of his shaft sending him spinning. His hips twitch under you.

When you shift down his body, he lifts his lower half off the bed, kicking at the sheets and letting you tug his bottoms down. He’s shaking and eager, unable to look down at you when you take him fully in your hand, tongue tasting the stickiness at his tip.

“Fuck,” he whispers. His hands are still above him, twisted in the pillowcase. He leaves them there, helpless as you tongue the head of his dick before sucking it into your mouth. Your tongue is gentle and your mouth is warm, the barest of sucks making him whine. “Don’t tease me.”

You hum and the vibrations make him speechless. His head rolls to the side, mouth parted, panting as he sees stars. You suck him eagerly, messily. He hears the wet pull of your mouth, the choked cough of your throat when you take him in deep and swallow.

Gentle nails scratch down his legs. He feels like he’s disconnected from the rest of the world, a single strand tethering him as he floats. He babbles as you take him in deep, a hand reaching down below his balls, a single, shy finger pressing against his tight rim.

Everything inside of Yoongi goes taught. He comes immediately and without warning. Spills in your mouth and the world fades away. There is nothing where he goes. No memories, no thoughts, no anxiety. It’s just Yoongi and he feels good – the kind of warm from a bubble bath laden with creams and salts.

Eventually, he comes back down. Opening his eyes, Yoongi sees you blink down at him. You smile, brushing light finger strokes over flushed cheeks. He grins up at you, elated. Hypnotized. You’re so… he doesn’t know the word.

There’s no way she’s human.

That phrase makes Yoongi’s smile falter. You are exquisite. Shrouded in darkness. Yoongi feels the press of unfamiliar air. When he looks beyond you, there’s just darkness. There is nothing. No light streams in from the window again. There is no soft hum of the nightlight in the bathroom where he usually leaves the door open now.

It’s just you.

Yoongi’s heart begins to speed up, panic rising.

You kiss him softly. It’s sweet and his anxiety melts away. Feels the weight of you on your hips, wet pussy dripping on his thigh. You’re being patient, which surprises him. Usually by now you’re needy, grinding your cunt on his thigh to seek friction.

“I want more,” you whisper against his mouth, fingers pressed into his cheeks. “Will you give me more?”

He nods. You lick his mouth, sighing contentedly as you roll your hips on his thigh. He moans, feeling the glide of your bare folds against his leg. You are always so ready for him, eager to take him. Easy to please. Excited to take what you want.

Shaking above him, you bury your face in his neck. Yoongi slides his hands from their position above his head, resting one hand on your thigh and sliding the other between your legs. Sticky arousal greets him, his fingers brushing up and down your cunt as you stop grinding, letting him take control.

“Kitty,” you beg, words muffle in his neck. He grins, eyes half-lidded as he plays with you. “Please, Kitty.”

Yoongi sinks two fingers in your greedy hole, feeling the way your walls flutter around him. It doesn’t matter how many times he buries his fingers, cock or tongue in you – every time is divine. Feels like something holy, taking him somewhere else.

“Fuck yourself on my fingers,” he murmurs, pressing a thumb to your clit. “Come on, baby. Wanna see you make a mess on my hands first.”

“Want your cock.”

“Fingers first, baby. Come on, you can do it.”

A growl rips through your frame. Yoongi stills under you for a moment, heart skipping. But then you move your hips and he hears your soft breath. Feels the drip down his hand. He grins, feeling you swallow his fingers as you work yourself on him, his thumb circling your clit lazily.

Nails dig into his thighs as you lean backward, spreading yourself for him. He can barely make out your figure in the darkness, but he can see the swell of your chest, the line of your neck as you toss your head back, his name falling from flushed lips and floating up to the ceiling.

When you come, it’s wet and loud. He hums, pulling drenched fingers from your legs. He surges forward, surprising you and moving you backward, letting your head bounce near the foot of the bed as he cages you in, stealing a kiss.

You wrap your arms and legs around him, clinging and whining and rubbing against his thigh again, begging sweetly. No one has ever wanted Yoongi the way you do. Ever. He cannot recall a single time someone has been as vigorous in their pursuit.

It makes him hard again, the rush in his veins igniting once more as he slides into you. He pushes in to the hilt, settling there for a moment. You clench around him, clawing at the back of his neck and thrashing under him. Begging for more. Always wanting more. Swearing you just need a little more.

Yoongi sets a slow pace, stroking deep with a purpose. You gasp every time he fucks all the way into you. He grins against your sweaty neck, tongue licking a stripe up your salty skin. You turn your face and catch his mouth with yours, swapping more spit than kissing, moaning into one another’s mouths.

An orgasm winds tightly in Yoongi’s stomach. He feels it at the base of his spine this time, a second sense tingling as he picks up speed, slamming into you until you’re crying under him, babbling again in something that sounds like a language but isn’t quite.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck –“ He grits his teeth and the moment he comes, you squeeze him like a vice, shouting and pulling him into an orgasm so hard that he feels himself fall on top of you, the energy leaving him as quickly as his orgasm had gathered.

At some point, he falls asleep.

Hell on earth is waking up battered and torn at the seams. You’re out in the living room, enjoying an early morning episode of Tokyo Ghoul again. He hears you giggle at the TV and he lifts his head in the shower. The rush of the hot water is loud, but the sound of you laughing is in his head.

It always feels like you’re in his head.

Yoongi stumbles when he gets out of the shower. His feet are heavy and there is pain behind his eyes. The throbbing kind that makes him turn the lights out and shoot a text to work telling them he needs a sick day. How many sick days has he had this year? He has no idea.

Yoongi stumbles to the mattress and collapses into the sheets. Everything feels heavy like he is made of glass bones with the weight of the world threatening to break him.

Sleep comes and goes. It doesn’t make him less tired. Yoongi places a hand on his forehead. He is not over-warm, but he wants to cry, the ache in every muscle so real that it takes him several tries to say your name.

You appear immediately, hovering at the edge of the bed in his hoodie, wrapped in a blanket.

“Are you feeling sick, Kitty?” He nods and you sniff. “I’m so sorry, Kitty… do you want some water?”

Yoongi nods again and you vanish. He rolls onto his back, groaning. He reaches for his phone. The screen is cracked from some incident or another, but it’s mildly legible as he searches his symptoms online.

When you come back with water, he thanks you with a sweet kiss and smiles when you lick his nose affectionately before darting out of the room again. He hears the show start again.

Carefully, Yoongi tries to sit up a bit. The water is cooled with two cubes – just the way he likes it – and it helps staunch the thirst. He drains the entire glass, but still, he aches with exhaustion that has no name.

Every combination he can think of brings Yoongi undesirable results. He has the fatigue of many different illnesses, but not any of the others. Mono seems the most likely, but still, it doesn’t feel right.

Yoongi considers and then types a new search: constant exhaustion after sex.

The results make him roll his eyes. He knows he’s going to get several ads for erectile dysfunction medication, but he scrolls anyways. Maybe he’s just fucking you that hard. But he does remember blacking out after sex and… well he never feels great the next day.

Slowly tapping through pages, Yoongi sighs. There’s nothing that provides much thought beyond Yoongi knowing he’s had too much sex. You’re a starving little thing, constantly wanting –

A word catches his attention: succubus.

Yoongi snorts when he opens the article. It’s a weird string of evangelical stories and musings, and overly sexualized depictions of female demons with generous breasts, shapely figures, and cute little bat wings.

The succubus needs sexual desire and energy to survive. He scoffs and wonders what heterosexual male wrote that dream.

Repeated sexual activity with a succubus will result in a bond being formed between the succubus and the host.

“Romantic,” Yoongi deadpans, scrolling up to close out the article. But a drawing catches Yoongi’s eye - a shadowy figure with rows and rows of teeth and red eyes. “Huh.”

Clicking on it, the page loads to a Reddit thread. Yoongi curses when he has to download the app, but his fingers move of their own volition, tapping across the screen as he creates a login and reopens the thread.

There are streams and streams of comments and links on the thread, a little overwhelming. As expected, it sounds like most heterosexual men overly-sexualizing women or asking about roleplaying – and yet, there’s a thread with a lot of upvotes that he clicks on.

Loss of time. Constantly exhausted. Nightmares of shadow creatures following me. Yoongi licks his lips, feeling his mouth go dry as he continues. Blackouts after sex. Not able to remember life before meeting entity. Dead animals –

“Kitty?” Yoongi flinches, dropping the phone on his stomach, hand covering his chest as his heart pounds in his ribcage. You blink in surprise, cocking your head where you stand in the doorway. A sense of dread draws a slow finger down Yoongi’s spine as he stares at you. “Do you want to come watch with me? We can put on Spirited Away.”

Loss of time. Constantly exhausted. Nightmares of shadow creatures-

“Kitty?” Yoongi has waited too long to reply. He nods his head and clears his throat. He wants to laugh at how ridiculous he’s being, shoving the phone away from him as he slowly peels himself out of bed. You grin and hold out a hand. “Thanks.”

Like a cat, you’re curled on the couch. Yoongi gives you a wide berth as he walks to his office. Night has passed into morning, and the flash of the screen lights the way as he opens the door, slipping through a tiny crack before he closes it softly and firmly behind him.

While watching movies, Yoongi could not help but think about the thread he had seen. He doesn’t turn the light on, too afraid of it showing under the door and tipping you off where he is.

Fear settles in the pit of his stomach. His hands are shaky as he wakes up the mouse, the computer light nearly blinding in the dark room. He jams the settings on the keyboard, turning it down a bit as he settles into the chair, taking a few breaths.

It feels ridiculous. You’re his girlfriend, not a sex-craving demon. But Yoongi finds the thread again anyways, clicking through and going back to that original subthread of people claiming to have survived an encounter with a succubus.

Time doesn’t seem to pass as Yoongi reads. He leans on his hand, eyes burning as he clicks through story after story.

Met at a bar – she was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I never remember going home with her, but my life was suddenly consumed by her. I lost my job and my friends. Felt good at first, but started getting headaches any time I would try to remember something. And she was always around, always lurking around every corner.

Yoongi clicks on to the next one, stomach flipping nervously.

- I ran into a friend and she swore we hadn’t spoken in months. I remember talking to her but it felt like… they were false memories. Like I didn’t really do those things. It was strange, but I forgot again after a while.

Taehyung’s face flashes in Yoongi’s mind. His palms get sweaty as he navigates the mouse, leaning closer toward the screen. A nervous beat starts to drum up in his heart as he pours over the words and the accounts of others.

The evidence is damning, but it can’t be possible, right?

Yoongi thinks of Old Ass Han telling the story of his son being swept up by a she-demon. Yoongi doesn’t think the story is very funny anymore, and the thought of Jimin dressing up as one makes him nauseous.

Carefully, he navigates to another thread.

I was lucky. She didn’t want to kill me, but she was constantly hungry for more energy that I didn’t have. She would get cagey and feral, hissing at me and hiding in the dark, like she was weaker in the sun when she wasn’t fed. I would find packs and packs of meat rotting in the garbage like she was trying to get her fix elsewhere.

I hope that you take this thread seriously. They are real. And while they look and talk like people, they aren’t. They might grow attached to you, but they don’t love you. You are a meal – and if your succubus is only feeding off of sex, it’s only a matter of time before they need more.

Think Jennifer’s Body, people.

Yoongi has never seen that movie before. He clicks away from the thread and pulls up the trailer. It seems a little ridiculous, but he gets the idea. Sex, eat the guy, move on to the next. But you certainly have never tried to eat him.

So Yoongi clicks back to the thread and searches for something new. How to get rid of a succubus.

He leans back while the page loads, switching to a white screen. This bright, the monitor reflects what’s in front of it, Yoongi’s round and tired face, pale from lack of sleep, and a looming shadow behind him. His stomach plummets and he goes rigid in the chair, frozen with fear.

Yoongi smells cedar. Jasmine. Amber.

"Kitty is looking at bad things,” you sniffle. Your shadow grows in the computer monitor and Yoongi swears he sees the white flash of teeth before his world turns red. "I loved you, Kitty."

#yoongi smut #suga smut #min yoongi smut #suga bts #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi x demon reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #min yoongi #happy haliween #haliiimede writes #minors dni #minors do not interact #tw manipulation #tw supernatural #tw dead animal

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bunnyyamor · 2 years

Text

daddy kink

[ OCTOBER 27TH ] TOJI FUSHIGURO x fem! reader (step-dad au)

synopsis; you had wanted to trick or treat with your whole family but your mom was busy on halloween night. so instead you were stuck trick or treating with your step dad. wk; 3k

warnings; mdni, smut 18+, heavy smut, dark content, daddy kink, pseudo-incest, age gaps, pet-names, public sex, unprotected sex, fingering, enemies-to-lovers, jealous! toji, over protective! toji, dirty talk, beta read!

notes; so i changed the layout a wee bit, but this is by far my fav fic i think ive written. idk its my style aesthetic and i love her lol. also toji is one of my favs cuz he is so fine so enjoy bbys. pls remember to unhide mature posts in tumblr settings and comment, like and reblog!

-nav : kinktober m.list : kinktober taglist

“so i’m thinking we’ll hit up the neighbors house, then maybe go egg some houses.” your mother raised her brow with a glare. “then we can come back home and eat all our candy while watching spoooooky movies,” you moved your fingers in a scary way. “that’s the plan. so what are you going to wear this year?”

“actually, honey. i’m not going.”

“what?” your mouth widened in shock. you were looking forward to this day for a whole year. “but you had your whole outfit picked out and everything.”

your mother rolled her eyes, annoyed, “i know. look, it’s not like i chose to not go. they have me wanting to come in for another shift.”

you were texting on your phone, pissed. “then tell them no. literally i got this day off for this, so can you.”

“it’s not that simple. i don’t know why you can’t do anything on your own? i already told you i tried, enough, what do you want from me?”

“you never hang out with me anymore,” you pouted. “it’s always work or that man.”

your mother snapped at your face, “watch yourself. that is your step-father.”

“he is nothing to me,” you crossed your arms. “he is just a dude you’ve been with for a while that stays at our house.”

“i want you to respect him, y/n. he is a good man.”

footsteps boomed down the stairs. there he was. the man that was with your mother for almost 2 years now. toji fushiguro. it looked as if he had just come out of the shower. he was wearing gray sweatpants without a shirt and his hair dripped on his shoulders. “hey baby,” his voice was raspy as he kissed your mom.

“jesus fucking christ. put on a shirt dude.” you shouldered him as you walked by.

“y/n!” your mom shouted.

you saw in your peripheral vision toji’s face darkened in anger. but you didn’t care if he was angry. he could suck it!

“what mom? i’m being a good girl.” you slid over your couch and laid there, upside down, texting on your phone, trying to make late plans. “maybe i’ll ask my friend if i can go to a party. aye, that’ll do it. i can go get wasted.” you chuckled.

you knew your mother was probably rubbing her temple and your ‘step-father’ was consoling her. he literally made you want to vomit. he made you angry and his presence was a nuisance to you.

“y/n, you know how we feel about you going to those parties. besides i don’t really like your friends,” toji crossed his arms. he had a way of making your mother think exactly like him. even if she was half on your side and thinking she would immediately turn her morals to his. your mother treated your step-father as if he was all knowing. she listened and did everything he told her. it bothered you so much.

you jumped up from the couch and made your way to toji’s huge form. he was humongous, broad shoulders, muscles galore, he almost touched your house's ceiling. he was a huge man. that didn’t intimidate you one bit. “you can’t tell me what to do. this is my house, my mom, and my life.”

toji smirked, “that’s true but i also am your step-father.” he took one step closer to you. the air shifting between you two. his arms were crossed over his chest. you never realized how thick he was on his chest area. they literally protruded under his arms. still, even with his size, you didn’t want him to think he won.

“i know who you really are. you can’t fool me. and you will never be my father,” you uttered the words so that only you and toji could hear. you thought that would break him but instead it grew a gleam in his eyes. something shined within him that made him break the smirk into a toothy grin. he was playing your game. “whatever. i’ll just call megumi and hang out with him. we’ll go trick-or-treating.”

“megumi texted me. he’s going with yuji itadori actually. so, it looks like it’s just you and me sweetheart.” toji winked.

you threw your hands up in the air frustrated. “yay,” your mom clapped her hands, “daddy and daughter time.”

you went upstairs and got changed in your ballerina costume. maybe you could separate from him and hang out with your friends. this was supposed to be a family gathering but of course, your mother had to ruin it.

you came downstairs and as you came down you noticed your mom was gone and instead toji sat on the couch. something was different with him. “you done?” he called out.

you stood at the top of the stairs, waiting for him to turn around. he stood up and turned and you knew that something was different. you felt different with your step-dad. toji smirked as he showed up in a nightwing costume. each muscle outlined, his hair disheveled, and he was wearing the eye mask. he leaned against the couch, you couldn't help it but divert your eyes to his cock. it was outlined as well, and…huge. you gulped. “wow you look-”

“cool?” he slowly walked over to the end of the stairs. “not so boring?” his eyes slowly made their way from your legs up to your face. “ballerina?”

you did your makeup pink themed and you wore a cute gloss over your lips. your lips were pursed out, all innocent looking. you were all pink and girly. super feminine. even painting your nails red. you wore a pink leotard with a sheer pink skirt. the leotard was tight, showing all your curves and ass. you looked like a cake topper, a cute pink macaroon. any man would want to take a bite.

“sweetheart, you look so beautiful. so perfect, delicate.” he whispered as his hands traveled up your legs. you didn’t have a snappy comeback. instead he made you flustered. his eyes held some kind of villainy within him. his neck curved, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he stared up at you as if you were an angel. he looked guilty and wanting at the same time. his eyes were half-lidded. you noticed the way he sniffed the air, sniffing you. his big, calloused hands looked so gigantic against your legs, covering your entire calf as he rubbed it lightly and squeezed it gently. “you ready?” his voice was hoarse.

you covered your face, wanting to hide your emotions and feelings. you were only human. “yeah, whatever. let’s just get this over with, old man.” you pushed him aside as you walked in front of him. you realized he was staring at your ass.

what was wrong with your step-father? he was your mother’s boyfriend! and yet why did you feel dirty? why did you feel that if something happened today you would let him do whatever he wanted to you? why did you want him to do something to you? why was he acting this way all of a sudden?

everyone was out. the night was young as so many families walked around the neighborhood in their costumes, wanting candy. you knew the town, knew the houses, the streets so you walked around like you knew everyone, it was true you did. toji looked at you with pride. the way you walked around, not afraid, acting like you were the main character. a part of him was irked by your rudeness but also he couldn't help but stare at you. he couldn’t help but be attracted to you.

“let’s pause here,” you said. you had put a spray around your hair and neck that was sparkles. it twinkled in the moonlight. this caught toji’s attention. you smelled like vanilla and looked like a diamond. all your sparkles catching his eye. you whipped your phone out and leaned your head against toji’s shoulder. “let’s take a selfie and send it to mom. she wants one.” you lied through your teeth. you looked away as you said this lie.

toji grinned evilly. “mom? or more like you?” his face dipped to your height. he pushed you against a fence, caging your small body with his. you winced, finally breaking, he was winning. your tiny hands pressed against his chest, strong and plump. you were hot. toji was pinning you against the fence. his face was only centimeters away from yours. “c’mon baby. you can tell daddy the truth.”

“i-i-it’s. okay fine. doesn’t matter. mom will like it.” you shouted, hiding your face. you were never bashful or shy! why were you becoming like this? he made you this way!

“okay, let’s send her a selfie.” toji all of a sudden picked you up, arm under your ass as his big hands gripped your plump thighs. “what the fuck?” your body was placed on his shoulder. the sides of your leotard rising higher from the movement. your heart was beating faster than ever before. “toji, what are you doing-”

“toji? angel, i’m your step-father. call me daddy.”

you gulped, “f-fine. what are you doing, daddy?” you felt the heat rush to your cheeks. you also felt wetness down at the name.

“i’m taking a picture with my sweet baby girl. alright, say cheese!”

you hated him. hated him more than ever in this moment. he was playing with you and your mom. he was messing with your mind. you knew it wasn’t because he actually liked you, it was because he wanted to get back at you for earlier. “n-no! i don’t have to listen to you.” you crossed your arms. the side of your ass was pressed next to toji’s face. toji raised his brow and shook his head, “good girls listen.” his mouth then turned to bite a piece of your ass peeking from the leotard. it was a light bite and then his tongue peaked out and licked the bite. “c’mon, smile.”

you jumped but was held still by toji. “toji-i mean, daddy!” your step-father just bit your ass. and you liked it. you liked it so much. you wiggled on his shoulder. finally, you smiled and toji took the selfie. he came out so attractive. his jawline was prominent in the photo, he looked like a model. his smirk making his scar above his lip prominent. you were wide eyed looking innocent in the camera. more from what toji just did seconds ago and from where you were seated. toji carried you like you weighed nothing.

he put you back down and you felt dizzy from everything. what were you feeling? “send me that picture,” toji’s hands landed on your shoulder then traveled up to around your neck, caressing your skin there. “i think you look so beautiful in it.”

why were you so quiet? you decided, toji wasn’t going to win. you were going to give him a taste of his own medicine.

you both went to a door. you knew who lived there. it was a guy that you knew had a crush on you from when you both were in high school. of course, you never liked him but you wanted toji to realize you didn’t care about him and his actions.

toji knocked the door for you. he was behind you most of the day, keeping an eye out since it was night. you weren’t going to lie, you did like how protective he was over you. you felt safe with him. he always had a shoulder wrapped around you or his hand on you to make sure you were always with him. always standing behind you, close by, so close you can smell his cologne.

“thank you daddy.” you smiled wide. excited for what was gonna happen. the door opened and low and behold it was the guy that had a crush on you. “y/n? wow, welcome! damn, you look good.” he eyed you up and down. you felt a hand on your shoulder. it was toji’s and it was tightening around you. you looked up behind you and saw his face. if looks could kill! he looked so scary! he wore a scowl and his eyes were dark, full of anger.

you rolled your eyes and popped your butt out to the side, placing your hands on your hips, posing. “you think so baby? aww thank you, love!”

the guy leaned against the door frame, coming closer to you. toji pulled you back so you fell back against his chest. “i’m her boyfriend.”

“wh-what?” you were about to fight toji. trying to turn around to protest but toji held you in place. “so, back off.” he threatened with a glare.

the guy backed off, throwing his hands up, surrendering. “damn, sorry man. i didn’t know. well, here’s some candy. enjoy your trick or treat y/n.”

you rolled your eyes and said a quiet “thank you.” you bent down to pick up the candy in the plastic jack o'lantern bucket. you noticed the guy backed away to look at your breasts almost spilling over. you knew toji would not like it. you heard toji grumble in the back of you. but you also noticed that when you bent over your ass by accidently grazed against toji’s dick, you felt it was hard! “c’mon baby. let’s go.” he grabbed your arm, dragging you away.

you both walked without saying a word. most of the streets were empty, people heading home. toji acted weird, walking in front of you this time, which was something he didn’t do this whole time.

“daddy?” you called out to him.

“i can’t believe how you acted. the way he looked at you.” you saw toji rub his temple and bang the fence beside him with his fist.

“it wasn’t my fault! he was the one all up on me. i was an innocent bystander. what was with the whole, oh i’m her boyfriend?” you imitated him.

toji turned around, anger evident on his face. “sweetheart, i saw the way he looked at you, daddy knows that look. when a man wants to ravage a sweet girl. the way he looked at you made me so angry, so disgusted.” toji’s jaw clenched. “if i said i was your boyfriend, i knew he would leave you alone.”

you were so done. you shook your head and resumed to walk, wanting to be ahead of him and by yourself. you shoved against him, “whatever. i can’t stand you! i try to like you! try to give you a chance! you think you can play with my feelings and emotions. the way i feel!”

toji grabbed you and picked you up to press you against the fence, like earlier. caging your body.

“not again with this!” you tried to push him away from you.

toji clenched the sides of your head and dipped his head to press his feverishly lips against yours. the kiss was passionate, heated. the smacking of lips. you tried to not move your mouth but you couldn't help it. you needed to kiss him. you wrapped your tiny arms, compared to his, around his head to deepen the kiss.

“daddy, i want you.” you moaned in the kiss.

“i know baby. i know.” his tongue dragged into your mouth. fighting with your tongue. both breaths hot. moaning and groaning. teeth gnashing. your fingers tangled themselves in his hair. your body was automatically attracted to his, wanting to be pressed against him.

“we shouldn't do this.” you said.

“i know.” toji agreed. but then his lips went to your neck. you suck in the air as his plump lips touched the vein on your neck. he could feel your pulse, how rapid it was. you were excited. you wanted this so bad now.

“you know i hate you so much,” you pushed toji’s head closer so he was licking all your neck.

“i never hated you. i’ve tried to fight this feeling. but you are so stubborn, such a bad girl.”

you dragged his head back to your lips. you bit his lip. the flesh between your teeth as you dragged it out. eyes directly on his.

toji picked you up, desperately, his hands under your ass, groping and squeezing your flesh. “you in this outfit. fuck. you really were testing me baby. daddy wanted to fuck you really bad.”

you grinded on his hands. loving how thick they were and veiny. he was very handsome as much as you hated him. “please daddy, fuck me. make me yours.” your eyes were innocent.

toji finally ripped his eye mask off, so his face was plain. you wanted to see his real, raw emotions while he fucked you. he held you with one hand, kissing you sloppily, while the other hand was starting to rip your leotard. “daddy, i’m not wearing underwear! everyone is gonna see me.”

“over my dead body,” he growled. “i’ll rip my costume and wrap it around you.” he ripped the fabric of the leotard that covered your pussy.

when it was finally gone, you shivered slightly from the cool october air hitting your wet pussy. “i’m cold.” you pouted.

“don’t worry. daddy, will make you all warm.” toji smirked as his thick fingers slowly touched your cunt. you gasped from the touch then hummed at the feeling. he knew what he was doing. “just like that.”

“baby likes this?”

“i would like it more if it was daddy’s cock.”

toji played with your wetness between his fingers then he lifted the fingers into his mouth. eye contact never leaving as he sucked his fingers dry. “wow, sweetheart. you taste so delicious. does this pussy belong to me?”

you nodded, so hot. his fingers circled your clit, making your legs shake from the nerves. he played with your folds, stretching them slightly. “you ready?”

you looked down at his pent up frustration. it was huge and it wasn’t even uncovered. “yes,” you said low. you were scared. you never fucked someone so big as him.

“don’t worry baby, daddy will go slow for his angel.” he kissed your forehead as he unzipped. he took his swollen cock out. it was super thick, dripping already with need. he saw you that way as well. he was very much attracted to you.

toji lifted your legs over his arms. your pussy wide and displayed for him. “look at that pretty pussy. all for daddy. it is so beautiful.”

he was wet and you were soaked. his cock slid it slowly into you. it was perfect. he fit you like a puzzle piece. it went in, inch by inch. “that’s it. take it.” his breath was shaky. you knew he wanted to fuck you hard, wanting to dive into you. but he took it slow. finally he bottomed out.

“oh my god,” you moaned. moving your hips for him to go fast.

“already baby! i just put it in. you naughty girl.” toji’s hips went back and forward. both of you getting wetter and squelching. skin sticking. “but if that’s what you want, my baby gets what she wants.” suddenly, toji’s hips started going quicker. he was humping up inside your cunt, your juice dripping down his cock.

“yesss right there. fuck! yes daddy! right there daddy!” you hugged onto him. your grip tight. his balls slapped against your cunt. his thick cock was dragging in and out. this was not making love, this was pure, straight up, fucking you. he was feral. biting onto your shoulder.

toji grunted, pounding inside you. nonstop. he was holding you and fucking you. sweat was dripping down his temple. you were pinned against someones fence, being fucked out of your mind. toji kissed you again while he fucked your brains out. loving how you clenched around him. how tight you were.

“god i feel so full, daddy,” you cried.

“that’s okay. take it. take it.” toji noticed how you pulsed around his dick. he loved how every time his cock came peeking out of you it was covered, drenched with your cream. you looked so perfect. so angelic. breathing harshly, trying to take all of him. lips puffy, eyelashes thick with tears from the stimulation. your hair was starting to stick to your skin from the sweat. you looked like his favorite vision. he wanted to remember this moment. paint a picture of you this way. his tongue licked inside your mouth, opened mouths making out. his cock and pounding didn’t stop. it went faster, fervently. needing. it was unstoppable. he was unstoppable. if someone was watching let them. you were worth it. he didn’t care in that moment about your mother, he wanted you. wanted to take you to a lair and fuck you everyday every second. you were his drug.

“daddy, i don’t think i can last longer. i’m gonna cum!”

“go ahead baby. cum for daddy.” he growled as his forehead rested against yours. wanting to see your face. wanting to see how you looked as you took all his seed.

“ahhhhh!” you shook, grasping onto toji’s shoulders.

toji didn’t stop. he loved to feel your goopy-ness drip on his cock. it was warm and felt like a velvet blanket of a waterfall onto him.

“i’m so fucking lucky,” he whispered to you. “shittt, fuck,” he grunted as he finally came. not able to last because your pussy walls pulsed against his shaft, milking him for everything he was worth.

“i love you daddy. thank you daddy, fuck,” you kissed him again. it was sloppy, disgusting. saliva everywhere. but you wanted him to know you were his but if he could be yours.

“i know. i know.” he moaned against your lips. he was still into you and when you both calmed down he slipped out of you. before you could even ask him anything, he ripped his top in half and wrapped it around your hips. he held onto your hand to walk with you but you tripped. you were too weak and held still on the fence.

“i got you.” toji picked you up bridal style. “how bout we cuddle on the couch and watch spooky movies?

your tiny hands touched his face in a feather like touch, “okay. also, i don’t hate you as much.”

toji walked with you cuddled in his arms, he was smirking. “i know.”

#cry baby *🧸*#jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji fic #fushiguro toji smut #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x you #fushiguro x y/n #fushiguro toji x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji

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keylovesstuff · 8 months

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Hiii Everyone!!!

I've been around for years now and have never introduced myself. mainly cause I just choose to vibe and enjoy the posts people share, but first time for everything. You can just call me Key, I'm 24 and I go by she/her. I enjoy a variety of stuff from manwha, manga, anime, video game franchises, and just a bunch of other animated media you name its probably buried down in my blog somewhere. Every now and then I get motivation to create fanfiction. I have only written works the Dragonball and Super Mario fandom All my works are under the "Keep Reading". My DMs and askbox here is always open if you ever want to chat I apologize in advance if I come across as a bit awkward (socializing is not a strong suit of mine) or if it takes me a minute to reply (adulting and hobbies am I right?), otherwise I'm a pretty chill person. Thats about it!

One of these days I really want to change my Penname...But I've had it for years now and I'm way too attached to it lmao.

Super Mario Fics: So a lot of these are Princess Peach centric and I'm just crafting up an origin story and some other events following the 2023 film. The links take you to the tumblr post but I have included the AO3 and FFN (for reading preferences) links either in the original post itself or in the case of my earlier stuff in the reblogs.

Lost And Found

A Learning Opportunity (2 chapters on both AO3 and FFN. They are both on the same post here)

Thoughts Over Tea

Aftermath

Finding The Balance

Little Events (Finished)

Chapter 1: The Dark

Chapter 2: A Decision

Chapter 3: The Coronation

Chapter 4: Proposals

Chapter 5: Changes

Fics Inspired by others:

Villainess Peach and Bowser Jr. (Inspired by the Player One Luigi AU created by Tiny-Prom and Casual-Derg). Please make sure to their blog's and check it out.

Dragonball Fics: The first fandom I have ever written for (and by penname you could probably tell what I read mostly) I have only shared them on FFN and AO3 until now. I was just starting to write fanfiction with the first two so they might be kinda cringe I guess but that's 16 year old me for you haha. gonna embrace the cringe by sharing it on here anyways.

Tournament Day

The Prince Before The Day ( I am never gonna finish that one or go back to it lol)

Bulla's Easter Day

Even when I started making fics I'm still not sure what goes through my mind when it comes to the title or chapter titles its literally the first thing that comes to mind and nothing after that but we will get it one day for sure.

Here's Some WIPs (that's both written and not) you guys can look forward too from me. I'll remove them and add them under the appropriate fic tags once I post them:

Uncle Yamcha fic: It is currently three chapters. The first one is him and Trunks, second is Marron, and the third one is Bra/Bulla. I really want to think of one for him and Goten but nothing has come to my mind. I just think he's more close to Krillin and Bulma where he'd interact more with their kids and I can't think of a scenario for him and Goten or what they would even talk about but maybe something will come. (I've currently sent this off to my Beta for review but lemme know if you guys want to see the un-beta'd version I have on here cause I'm really forward to sharing it)

Untitled EOZ fic following after Goku leaves the Tournament grounds to train Uub. This one sits at about 8k words (not sure exactly cause I added a bunch of notes at the end for my beta to see where my thoughts were going with it all) anyways this one focuses mainly on Trunks, Goten, Marron, Pan, and Bra as really the older kids look forward to what may lie ahead. A lot of it is just me focusing on the dynamics they have with each other. When I saw that dlc for kakorat was going to be focused on that one that really makes me want to share this one. Again let me know if you want to see that.

Based on this Ask here you can already see that I've completed 4 out of my 5 ideas so that leaves the other ones and maybe more if I think of anything else. All of these will probably be added to my Little Events fic. a few little ideas not shared here but I've thought about and have some dialoge in mind but haven't fully created yet.

I want to do something where Mario and Haru interact I just think it'll be so neat.

Maybe something where I do my take on introducing Sarasland and Princess Daisy. Probably along the lines of Peach meeting Daisy for the first time.

I need to hop on the wholesome bros. content at some point and I know I wanna try my hand with Mia and Pio as a part of it.

I think thats it for now...I'll probably add more if I think of something as having somwhere to put it down no matter how small it is can be nice to look at and push me towards getting it done.

#Key Posting #Super Mario #Dragon ball #My official little hello to both the Mario and Dragonball community the people I've met by having these interests have been so amazing #Even though I mostly lurk I love everything about it all can do without some of the negative stuff but we move #anyway I'll see you all around in the tags as usual

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covetyou · 3 months

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20 questions for fic writers tag game

thanks for the tags bbs 💛 @mermaidgirl30 @whatsnewalycat @sp00kymulderr

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

23 - I cross post to ao3 just before I post anything on Tumblr, so almost everything goes there first. The only thing that isn't there is y2k and two dress up!Joel lore posts that are in fic form.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

117,356

3. What fandoms do you write for?

almost entirely Pedro - a little bit of general TLOU if we consider honey, you're familiar (tess x reader)

4. Top five fics by kudos

something wretched about this

sleepless

first steps

baubles

just a taste

on Tumblr sleepless is my top fic before the first chapter of something wretched about this - I don't keep track of it after those two!

5. do you respond to comments?

I do! I'm a bit behind right now because May/June have been kicking my ass in every way possible, but usually they get answered within a day or two.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't write much angst! Feelings™ in general is not my thing.

the howler monkey is maybe my angstiest fic, but it ends quite fluffy. same as some good friend.

none of them really end too angsty! I'm all about leaving things vaguely good at the end.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

the most typical happily ever after mush? jack of all trades and freeze-thaw. freeze-thaw's ending is quite cute now that I look back at it.

chaste also has a happy ending, just a very different one to a romantic feelings-y happy ending 💦 but you'll never see someone more thrilled than Dieter in that fic.

all of my fics do tbh, just not big I love you/happy families/grand gesture kind of happy endings.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I've never even had a slightly mean comment tbh

9. Do you write smut?

predominantly! everything except for y2k (not on ao3!) and my Dieter's PA loose series is smut. Dieter's PA is super fun to write because it often toes the line between almost smut and not smut at all. there's a lot of nudity and references to past sexual events, and it's the perfect place to explore silliness with Dieter.

10. Craziest crossover?

it's gotta be my carnal-val series. it's a circus AU with P-Boys each playing a part - so far we have Dieter as a clown and Whiskey as a ringmaster. I have 4 WIPs currently on the go for it, so hopefully more will be soon.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

thank goodness no. not that I know it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no! I probably never will - I like to just finish and be done, and collaborating with a fic feels far more involved than my usual "fuck it, that'll do" process! I literally don't even get shit beta read.

14. All time favorite ship?

I genuinely do not have one 😁 I'm very easy to please and generally if you feed it to me I'll have a good time, so no favourite ship has ever really stuck. I generally don't care for romantic ships the same way most do.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I started a Marcus Pike fic over Christmas - I doubt that'll get finished. My OG plan for kinktober still needs to be officially scrapped (I wrote something wretched about this instead)

I also have a Dieter's PA WIP involving a coffee machine that 💀 I'm not sure anyone needs or wants to see.

not all WIPs deserve to see the light of day, and most of the fun is in the process of fucking around with characters for a little bit tbh

16. What are your writing strengths?

anything silly and slightly bizarre while somehow not being too out there. I think I'm decent at dialogue but honestly 🤷‍♀️ some days I'm shit

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

so many! I'm the vaguest amount of descriptive possible, with absolutely everything. not just because I write reader insert either 😅

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

love reading it - will probably never include it in my own fics. I don't know another language well enough to do it alone and I don't want to bother anyone to ask for help. add that to my "fuck it, that'll do" thing and it's just not a recipe for doing another language justice 😁

19. First fandom you wrote in?

h*rry p. I wrote two oneshots as a teen. one involved people getting turned into chickens and pecking someone to death and in the other someone's little toe got stolen and eventually kept in a jar. so if you're wondering if I've always been like this, the answer is yes.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I still really love best in show and some good friend. both were a little different to my usual way of doing things and I loved the result of both. I also really love the howler monkey - it opened up a lot more depth that I have planned for Dieter's PA, and I'm really excited about it

I have no clue who has and hasn't done this, but consider yourself tagged if you'd like to do it but also @strang3lov3 @beefrobeefcal @bitchesuntitled @corazondebeskar-reads toobif you're ao3 girlies.

#coveted chats #tag games

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nevertheless-moving · 5 months

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Hi! I love your writing snippets - have you thought about posting them on ao3

Thank you!! Yes, I have thought about it, for sure! I'm nevertheless_turtle on ao3.

(I have... six fics, all of them star wars, half of them unfinished, last one updated in January 2022. Unless someone decides to put a million dollars in my kofi jar, this is for Fun, so unfortunately once the hyperfixation fades...it fades*.

:( star wars back and forth tumblr fics with star wars mutuals my beloved... murderbot discord i loved collaborative storytelling with ya'll and i miss you...i don't know how to make friends on the internet i just talk blorbos in situations and my blorbos drift over time... hello stormlight archive fandom)

! anyone want to talk about putting my type of blorbo, which when i check my notes is a pathetic wet person who is very good at killing but somewhat tries to avoid it, if you want to talk putting someone like that in a Situation, Hey! i may or may not be your person. this ask is really getting away from me i might be tired from walking a bunch of miles today...

*i do historically cycle back around to fandoms! i was lurking on tumblr for over a decade before i posted anything and there was definitely a cyclical nature to it! i consistently knit furiously for 3 months and then take a 4 year break! star wars fics wait for me!

aNYWAY writing fic directly into Tumblr adn/or Discord or if i don't have internet connection then a fuckin shitty notes app appears to be the Key for me?? like i tried fic writing before that in Word or Docs and it just didn't go?? idk! I think it's like the comic sans trick.

wait i still haven't answered the question.

you know, the thing is, when i write a snippet at the end of 5 paragraphs of background meta for an au, or a literal bullet point list, i'm not really sure how to post that to ao3. can you post chatfic and bullet points to ao3? it feels weird? idk. real question for the crowd in the midst of an extremely incoherent ask answer. let me know what you think!

me to myself: the question. scroll back up. what was the question. myself to me: that was answering the question! somewhat!

Right now a bunch of fic writing is churning around and out of brain, and circumstances have aligned for better or worse such that i have time and mental energy and ideas to write. we'll see how it goes. Once I get a bit more posted on tumblr i'll probably put things together and either make seperate works for different aus, or a masterwork of different tumblr aus that i don't think i'll develop further. i may turn some of those bulletpoint lists into cleaner fics for posting, making my earlier point moot.

some of my aus i already have a bunch written on my phone over meals or stopped in the middle of a side walk or on bus and train rides (why would an ELEVEN HOUR TRAIN RIDE not have an outlet to charge my laptop??). so. if i clean that stuff up ill probably post it to tumblr, then immediately notice the spelling mistakes, edit, then post to ao3.

a perfect system.

for my most recent snippet, well, that's actually self contained (not an au that requires 6 paragraphs of background to understand the snippet) and not a chat fic, so i WAS thinking i would just post it to ao3 soonish. i asked in the tags if anyone felt like betaing for ao3, i am wildly but unquestioningly assuming that the sorta individual who would want to beta a fic for me are reading the tags on my tumblr fic post. if anyone likes betaing stormlight or is interested in betaing a specific au/fic idea i've mentioned, hit me up.

TLDR above, tumblr is a for fun rough draft looser writing form place for me. ao3 feels like its asking for a bit more polish and structure. i have writing bees in my brain right now so i'm slightly more focused on that then editing, but if anyone feels like doing some form of beta, reach out and we can chat about it. regardless, i will clean up at least some of my recent snippets and post to ao3 eventually.

#stormlight archive #nevertheless meta #star wars #murderbot diaries #fandom

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echobx · 2 months

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saw this ask game and decided to answer all so you guys can get to know me better

1. Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

it depends. I usually have my multi-chapterdd fics already done before posting them, so in my head they are stored as one shots. I know, weird. anyway...

I think oneshots are easier for me bc it's all fix and I don't get the urge to want to go back and change things. but I'm trying out the chaptered way with Timeloop and I can fix him (no really I can) and we'll see how I like it... but I'm only doing it like that bc idk how long they'll be and I wanted to post something and not wait months for them to be done before I post it all.

so maybe one-shots when it comes to [tumblr]

2. Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?

I usually write as I go. I have a few points that I have to get to but I let it flow, let the characters choose their path to make it feel more natural when things go down.

3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

I usually have something in my head that needs to happen and then I sit down when I feel like I'll be able to write it and just try.

I don't always look for playlists but sometimes it helps to listen to my sex playlist for smut or my falling in love playlist for slowburns or something.

I mostly just let inspiration hit me ig, idk how to explain it 😭

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

songs, tv shows, movies, other written work (books or stuff I read on here) my dreams... anything really. a lot of times it's just daydreaming.

5. Do you like constructive criticism?

yes, I love it, I get way too little of it.

as long as you are being respectful please tell me off lol, especially when it comes to grammar and sentence structures bc I'm not native in English and I'll be happy to learn and change things when you tell ne that something is wrong.

6. Do you have your work beta'd? How important is this to your process?

I tried beta-ing one of my fics with my friends, but life gets in the way and they didn't have much time to read and give me feedback, so I decided to not do it for whole fics anymore and just sporadically

7. How do you choose which POV to write from?

ig that fully depends on how the scene feels to me. I once got halfway in a chapter and had to rewrite the whole thing bc I realized it didn't make much sense to tell it from that pov and not the other. and now it feels so much more natural than before. but that is just as much trial and error at times as everything else.

8. Do you prefer the beginning, middle, or end of a story?

i don't really have a preference there. for some fics I can very clearly see the middle, but not the end or beginning, for others I see the start and end but not the in between and it gets a bit messy on the way. but all in all I'd say I'm just happy to be allowed to be there as these stories play in my head and that I get to write them down is even better.

9. Do you comment on stories you read?

yes, usually on ao3 on tumblr if I like it enough I'll reblog it, if I love it I reblog with comments or tags, that depends on my daily mood tho.

10. Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

“What?” I cleared my throat and blinked a few times to get my mind cleared up.

aaaaah I love the scene this is from, also had to used blinked cause I usually write in past tense unless it's tumblr...

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

Safety Net by @mvybanks

The Blue by @quin-ns

Watch and Learn by @nadvs

12. how does receiving or not receiving feedback/support impact you?

a good feedback makes my day, literally

not getting any or getting barely any likes and no reblogs on my work, especially when it's something I've worked hard on, it's devastating really. I wish there was more appreciation for it, but I can't do much about it either.

13. what’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

writer's block isn't really an issue to me anymore. when I have time to write but my mind blocks I'll just start writing anything and when it's shit I put it to the side and write something else or if I'm working on a chapter and it won't flow I go into a new document and try and write the chapter again from scratch and see how it goes. always in a new doc tho when I do that so I don't use anything I've written.

14. how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

okay, I write them, especially sad ones, when I myself am already sad af so I can exactly describe the bodily bs that happens to me when I'm sad

I do feel how they feel, especially when I later go to edit it, and then I have to take a break bc I'll start crying again lol

I mostly draw from personal experience when it gets to emotions, especially sad ones, bc it's just easier ig. it's waaay easier for me to write angst and hurt/comfort than anything else bc most of my life has been filled with those rather than fluff or even smut (idk how I write that, bc there's no experience there...)

15. How do you write smut scenes? Do you get very visual or detailed? How important is it to be realistic?

I try my best to keep it visually accurate, like, so you can try and imagine it bc I hate when I read something and go "wait, how did they end up here?" yk? and I think it should have some sort of realism to it. but I can't really be 100% accurate bc I only know my own body and whatever I've seen online. I don't trust porn obvs bc it's not really reliable when it comes to normal sizes and shit (iykwim) but it does help with figuring out some of the positions. that's literally the only reason I look at it too, for research purposes 💀

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

2 that are being posted (timeloop and icfhnric)

15 that are just ideas (listen, my head never stands still)

1 that is like my heart child, and I'm scared to let it go but I will eventually

17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

a complete lack of inspiration hasn't really happened to me yet, and I'm scared of the day it will. what I do have issues with is the type of writers block where I wanna write but my head feels too overwhelmed or too tired to process any thoughts so I'll see the fic in my head but my brain won't let me form sentences to put it on the screen. I've yet to figure out how to deal with that.

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

song inspired ones are always named after the song, so that's easy

anything else is either a good line that I discovered while writing or a quick quip that I came up with, most times during the end of it.

I still don't have proper titles for my Lovebirds fic, I have one for the second installment of it, but the other three are still only under their working title and I don't know if I'll even give the first one a title or if it'll just be "Before Lovebirds" which is bs and I hate it but idk what else to name it... (although that part has been done for months now)

19. What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

smut... lol I haven't used any funny tags yet

20. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

I use "just" way too much. and I keep starting sentences with And a lot. and I feel like once I find a bew word I'll keep using it until my brain grows bored of it.

21. Would you ever collaborate with another writer for a story?

definitely, if they wanted to.

22. Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

I don't think I'm a dark romance girlie. I'm never gonna write mlm smut, because I just don't think it's my place to do that.

23. Best writing advice for other writers?

use placeholders for words you can't pinpoint, I usually go like this [walking slowly, dragging feet] and then I look up a synonym

when you get an idea, put it down, you'll think you're gonna remember later but you won't

24. Worst writing advice anyone ever gave you?

to put chapter contents down in a pointed list instead of writing it out immediately

25. What fic do you wish you got more of a response on?

the It's... complicated one bc I worked hard on it and it's probably my best work yet imo

26. Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

my three part series the one with the abortion, notes and letter

27. What is your most and least favorite part of writing?

most favorite: describing angsty feelings

least: chit-chat bc I'm bad at it irl and idk how to write it to seem natural 😭

28. On average, how much writing do you get done in a day?

idk, some days I write so much and others I don't at all, so maybe 500-800 days on average daily

29. What’s your revision or editing process like?

first I do grammar checks, then I reread and see if the words are correct. most times I do the big parts of editing while writing bc I noticed that that's easier for me

30. Do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished?

I usually wait until it's polished, unless it's something I would have deleted from a bigger fic and don't want it to go to waste.

31. Do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?

plot, always.

32. Name three of your favorite fanfic writers.

from the top of my head: @princessmaybank @redhead1180 @mvybanks

33. Do you want to be published some day?

yes. but not my fanfic. I'd rather write something by myself and then get it published than go and write fanfic and change it later on to be able to publish it.

34. Five years from now, where do you see yourself as a writer?

finishing my first novel and maybe finding a publisher for it

35. What is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain?

that they don't need to be redeemable, I'd much rather keep some villains for true evil and not because they had a bad childhood or whatever

36. How do you write kissing scenes?

I try to write about how it affects the person who's pov it is, their emotions and physical sensations. I don't like dragging it out too much tho unless it's a big moment, like a first kiss.

37. How do you choose where to end a chapter?

I tend to do cliffhangers quite a lot bc I'm just prone to that bc of my love of television. but usually I end on a moment that feels like a natural stop while writing or sometimes I write without chapters in mind and when I add them later I make stops in between where it feels like the reading flow could stop and be picked up, but then I make sure that the chapters aren't too short or too long still

38. Would you ever write commissions?

oh definitely, I already take prompts and idk if it counts but I did write two private commissions for a friend in return for some art of my favorite character a scribble of my oc

39. Share a snippet from a WIP

“I don't want you to feel any pressure to do anything,” he brushed a few hair from my face and I nodded. “You're my dream girl, [redacted].” He pulled me closer into him, nuzzling his head into my neck and breathing lower. “My pretty girl.” I placed a kiss on his head and listened to his shallow breaths as I fell asleep. “Love you too,” I whispered while drifting off and hoping that he hadn't actually heard me.

40. If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

I have a very specific scene in my head, but it not in the fic, it's only mentioned as a picture that they took and have set as their background picture. so to see that come to life would be incredible.

but I don't really have a preference other than that, when I write I see it all play out in my head like a movie scene so literally any moment can work as long as I described it well enough. and if needed I would go and give a lengthy description of every single detail if someone wabted me to

41. Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person?

I reread a lot! it's part of how I try and get better at my work (apart from reading published books)

I especially reread a lot of my lovebirds fic so I can get back into writing when I haven't had worked on it in a while

42. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?

The Charter by @blueicequeen19 and I'd tell the whole world to read it because it's just that good

43. Do you take a sadistic joy in whumping your characters, or are you more the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" kind of person?

I whump too much tbh. like, especially my OC has had so much pain already in her life, but I feel like a few set backs are normal and it wouldn't feel natural to me if everything was just happy and perfect akl the time. to me these characters are people and people are messy by default.

I'm still very protective of them tho, and I wouldn't let any body go and fuck them other unless it has a purpose of some kind, either for the bad guy or them.

44. What mistakes do you keep making no matter how many times your beta corrects you?

I keep writing my when I mean me and vice versa, that's just a typing issue tho. I forgot prepositions and "the"s a lot. idk how to do comma shit. and I keep catching myself writing bearly instead of barely. bc they sound the same and I'm also dyslexic 😔

45. Do you want to break your readers‘ heart or make them laugh?

both if I can. but a part of me wants to know that I'm capable of making someone cry their eyes out. that feels pretty powerful to me bc I don't really cry too much when I read or watch something myself.

46. How would you describe your style? (Character/emotion/action-driven, etc)

emotions primarily ig, then characters. ig those two are very neatly intertwined bc most of the decisions they make are based on emotions or on the fact that they try to not let their emotions control them.

47. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

at least two times. even when I say it's not edited, I at least read it twice to get most mistakes out.

48. What do you look for in a beta?

that they are native English speaker probably, but I don't really do betas at the moment

49. Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

I've never gotten one and if I would I'd probably just block the person and try to forget about it.

50. How long is your longest fic?

not posted and still working on it: around 500k

posted one shot: 19k

posted series: 16k

51. What’s your total AO3 word count?

38.4k on ao3 / 100k+ on tumblr

52. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I respond to most comments but I always feel a bit awkward bc I never know what to say

53. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?

primarily I write, I'd say 65/35 writing to reading ratio of the time I use on fanfic

54. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

being able to put the vision that I have in my head on screen, being allowed to use as much or as little details as I wish to. but most of all the fact that I know more about the whole narrative than the characters in it, the fact that I know when they are being unreliable or are lying to themselves or just don't know better.

55. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

I'm definitely a JJ girlie, I'll always be even tho I noticed that people are more into Rafe...

56. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

a friend of mine keeps asking how the fuck I write so much and I honestly don't know. I just do. and I personally always feel like anything below 2k is not enough but I don't try to drag things out too much just to get more words in. so maybe that's it.

57. Do you prefer editing as you write, or waiting until it’s finished?

while writing for sure because it just makes the whole process faster than if I did it the other way round. but it took some time for me to get to the point where my in-writing editing makes the post-writing editing almost obsolete

58. What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (Brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc)

writing for the most part. but I also love researching stuff.

59. Does anyone in your personal life know you write fic? if not, would you tell anyone?

only my friends. I wouldn't tell my parents and I'm glad they don't understand English bc if they did and found this blog I wouldn't be allowed to leave the house forever or they'd kick me out. which is ridiculous bc I'm an adult :'(

60. Have you had a writer you admire comment on your fic? What was that like?

yeah and it was the best feeling ever. makes me happy just thinking about it.

61. Why do you continue writing fics?

simply because I love writing and I choose to write for myself, not for anyone else. that's also why some prompts stay in my inbox for longer, because I need to find the right moment where I am content with writing it in a way that makes me feel happy about what I created.

62. Thoughts on cliffhangers?

love love love. can't get enough of them. use them all the time.

63. Something you hate to see in smut.

personally, I have mommy and daddy issues, so seeing it being sexualized is always weird to me. but I try to look past it and even when I write it bc it fits the character, it's still weird to me. but I would never tell anyone to not write it. I know a lot of ppl enjoy it a lot. it's just not my personal piece of cake.

another thing, which is just formatting ig, is when there's no warnings list. I think it's important to put at least a warnings list, especially for smut.

64. Something you love to see in smut.

aftercare. always. Even if it's just a quick scene of them lying in bed or something and just being soft with each other or talking about random things to cool down. I think it's really important.

65. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

right now I'm looking extremely heavily towards kinktober and starting on those projects and then seeing people read them in October.

I'm also super hyped over my oc lore bc I recently had a big breakthrough with the help of a friend, and now everything I had before makes so much more sense. it feels like I had always had known but the information was hidden and now I have it and I can see a crystal clear picture of her life and the life of her parents and grandparents and basically the whole family past and possible future.

66. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie. pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc.)?

I hate it. I'm trying to not let it get to me, I can only write when my brain let's me. But I do know that no matter how long it takes I will finish started projects.

67. Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

I don't mind either. I love when it's a prompt or challenge that gives me creative freedom. like just a sentence or a single word prompt with a character is top notch bc I can go crazy on it all I want.

68. What, if anything, do you do for inspiration?

I listen to music mostly, sometimes tiktoks inspire me too. It's really anything that can give me inspiration.

69. What work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?

the ghostface one. I don't even know why I posted it, but I'm not gonna delete it bc I think it's important for ppl to see the progress you made over time.

70. When asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?

depends on the person. if it's my friends who I hold near and dear I'm not really embarrassed at all. I sometimes talk too much about writing and think I annoy them with it, but they always say it's okay so I guess I should believe them.

I think it's needs some type of connection and mutual respect for me to even be able to talk about it, so I wouldn't really talk to someone who I think would nake me feel embarrassed.

71. When it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

I only put down dates, the rest is more or less stored in my brain. unless I write lore down somewhere for someone to read and give me feedback. then I take that and put it in a separate lore doc but I wouldn't really need to bc, like I said, mostly my brain will remember lore

72. What order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?

when I started writing I did chronological, then I started to jump in between but that caused a lot of fuck ups and I couldn't remember what happened where, so I decided to rewrite my whole fic chronologically before posting it.

for prompts or just stuff that I post on here I always do linear/chronological if the narrative let's me

73. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

I don't really know. I guess I use a few phrases and words more than others would, and sometimes my sentences sound very german bc that's my native tongue. but those don't show up to me as mistakes when editing bc to my brain the sentences structure makes sense. that's probably all, but I don't really know.

74. You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it?

maybe if they are familiar with my writing style, with the way I use certain words only in certain situations. or how I nickname some of the characters.

#~orientation #~personal

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starlit-hopes-and-dreams · 2 years

Text

Whump Intro

Hi, hello!

Um, I’ve been avoiding this intro bc I am a shy awkward hermit that usually just lurks and likes stuff, but that doesn’t really work on Tumblr so here I am! Plus I wanted to use Whumptober to force myself into sharing my writing and figured it might be useful to introduce myself first.

You can call me starlit, or anna, or hey you, I don’t really care lol. She/her pronouns. I love reading fantasy & fantasy romance, writing, and playing RPG video games when I have the time (usually fantasy based-are we sensing a theme here? 😂)

Before we get to more about me nonsense-

Acknowledgements!

Shout out to @i-can-even-burn-salad

For beta reading for me and then being brave enough to share her stories with me. And for sucking me into Tumbler lol. And for talking to me all the time and making me laugh. And for being such a great person. <3

I love her writing and stories so much. Please, please, check her writing out. It's worth it, I promise! Bring tissues though!!

Best internet friend ever trophy, where is it? I need to send it… oh, there it is. Here you go, Elli! 🏆🎉💜

I haven't had the opportunity to check out many other blogs yet, bc someone has such an extensive back catalog 👀 😂 but tagged below is the one I have read. I devoured Traces in one day because it was so good. Highly recommend!

Traces by @whumping-in-the-wings - Thanks for writing such a great story! Can't wait to see what happens next :)

(Obligatory disclaimer: heed the warnings. They are well-tagged.)

I've got my eye on several other blogs once I have a little more time. Hope ya'll like spam likes/reblogs/comments, bc I'm a bit enthusiastic 😂

Ok, back to me, I suppose. Under the cut 🤣

I tend to use emojis excessively, but don’t expect me to know the meaning of them beyond face-value expressions. I shamelessly claim elder millennial status as an excuse (which means I’m 18+, obviously).

I’m audhd (combo autistic/adhd), but I didn’t find that out until earlier this year, so I’m still very used to tiptoeing around people and holding myself back out of self-preservation. Working on that though, bc I’m tired of that shit.

Erm, also… fuck is my favorite word. If you don’t like foul language, I might not be a great fit for you.

I joined Tumblr about a month ago, so I am still learning and ask for your patience. (I will probably be learning for quite some time, tbh) If I’m doing something wrong, please let me know so I can fix it.

Asks are welcome, although not sure what you would ask me lol. With asks, keep in mind that I’m literal as fuck and context is everything :D

As is fairly common from what I’ve seen in this community, I’ve daydreamed whump for as long as I can remember, and it’s nice to:

1. know what to call it 🥲

2. find someplace where I don’t feel weird about getting it out of my head and putting it on digital paper. Well, not quite as weird haha.

I’m super nervous to post on here, but that’s what I’m here for, so… deep breaths 😶

Likes:

*Fantasy whump

Magic w/ consequences

Captivity

Torture/punishments

Restraints

Dub/non-con

Emotional whump/angst

Defiant whumpee

Breaking whumpee to the point of hopeless despair before building them back up again

Revenge against whumper

Creepy/intimate whumper

Named characters

Recovery arcs, bonus points for romance <3

Eventual Happy endings after copious amounts of suffering

I write what I like, btw. I have written explicit romance previously, but I’m not sure if I will here.

I will try to be diligent with my warnings, but as those are new for me as well, I may miss some. Please let me know if I do and I will fix it! (within reason, don't ask me to tag something like sadness. that's a typical emotion. extremes like depression, yes. sadness, no.)

* Disclaimer: I will only ever write fantasy. I prefer to read fantasy as well, but I have made exceptions when I get the tropes I want :D

Squicks:

I’m willing to try most anything once.

In general though, I tend to avoid cannibalism, major character death, hard-core conditioning, whumper redemptions, bad caretakers

I’m excited to join the community here and looking forward to participating in Whumptober! I have no idea how well I’ll keep up since I only decided to write for it 3 days before the event, but I’m willing to try 😅

Even if I can’t keep up during October's events, I do plan to finish the storyline and there will be a happy end :D

Fuck, this got long. Sorry!!!

See you all around! 💜

#whump intro #whump introduction #whump writing #whumpblr #whump #whump community #Nice to meet you all!#I can't believe I'm actually posting this and committing myself to something 😶#this is a rarity lol #don't ask me how long it took to actually click the post button #also don't ask how many times I read my own intro 😅

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sometimesraven · 1 year

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any writing advice for someone writing their first novel? (*cough, cough, aka me*)

Disclaimer: what works for me might not work for you, so feel free to take, twist and scrap whatever you need. I recommend asking/shopping around for ideas and other authors' processes, and it'll take some trial and error before you find what works best for you. But here's how I personally write.

Disclaimer disclaimer: this got real long while I was writing it and I realised how terrifying it must look to a first time writer. Take it step by step, at your own pace. It's not as scary as it looks xx

BEFORE YOU WRITE

(I'm going to be focusing on the story itself, but I'm sure it goes without saying that you should have your characters planned out first)

First things first: have a basic idea of the story beats. It doesn't have to be a Big Old Detailed Outline, just a basic compass to keep you going in the right direction so you're less likely to hit a roadblock. Personally I use the Plot Embryo! Here's my favourite video explaining it:

youtube

It's a nice simplified, easy to use tool for plotting. Here's a page from one of my journals breaking it down in a way I can personally come back to and understand:

hopefully you can read my shitty handwriting but I've put a little breakdown in the image description.

I then use these prompts to scribble down the basic idea of what journey I want my main character/s to go through, and use that as my blueprint for when I write.

WHILE WRITING

First things first: if you're like me, and seeing errors or plot holes in the stuff you've already written will bug you forever, do what I do and NEVER READ BACK OVER YOUR WORK WHILE IT'S STILL IN PROGRESS. Sometimes I have to skim back to remember where I am but as a rule, once something is written it's no longer my problem until the whole thing is done.

Don't worry about chapters and other such structure. I use the plot embryo to split things up so I know where I am, but otherwise chapters and scenes Do Not Exist until the editing process. Here's the "chapters" of a WIP as an example (this is a slightly different embryo adapted for romance but you get the idea)

Then just keep going until you're done. You don't even have to do it in order. If I'm stuck on a scene, I'll just put a big word in all caps that I can ctrl+f easily (usually either ELEPHANT or PENIS sklfsgskjf) and move on to the next bit I have ideas for, then come back to it later.

This first finished story will be bad. It'll be rough, patchy, full of holes. THAT'S OKAY. This is what we sometimes call the "Zero Draft". The draft that literally exists just to get the story out of your head to make the whole thing easier.

EDITING

Warning: editing is the longest, hardest part of writing a novel. Your book will go through several different versions, be scrapped and torn apart and put back together again. This is what makes the story great.

This is where every author differs, and there's a whole bunch of ways this can go. Personally, the first thing I do once the zero/first draft is done is put it down. Don't look at it, don't touch it, don't think about it. For at least a month. This allows you to come back to it with fresh eyes that haven't been staring at the same words for so long they just hate the whole thing regardless (and you WILL HATE IT. This is normal).

Then, the first thing I do is read back over the whole thing, adding notes and reactions as if I am a reader. If a part of what I've written makes me go 🥺🥺🥺, I'll write that down. If something could be worded better, I write that down. If you think a certain thing that you would put in the tags of a tumblr post, write it down. Treat it like you're someone else's beta reader, note down every negative, every positive, every ???? part. This will give you an idea of what is and isn't working. Here's some of my funniest notes from my zero draft of book 2 just to prove how literal I'm being here:

Then, and this is a controversial move that doesn't work for everyone but it works for my autistic adhd self-loathing brain: WRITE THE WHOLE THING AGAIN. FROM SCRATCH.

This sounds daunting and it is, but you've already written it once, so the second time is easier. Usually I don't worry about making this perfect because again, this is just another draft. I'll copy from my zero draft anything that I think is fine and write new bits or scrap bits as I go.

Sometimes, the story is fine. Sometimes this is an easy refining process. However, if you're anything like me, sometimes the whole thing is messy and you'll realise halfway through rewriting that the whole thing needs restructuring. Do not despair. This is normal.

I'm using book 2 of the Truth Saga as an example for this. I got 40k words into rewriting it before I realised that the reason it felt so 'off' was because the whole thing was sagging in the middle, characters were being left behind, and the whole thing needed restructuring.

It was a rough realisation, as Reckless Truth (book 1) was such a comparatively easy process. I only did three drafts and didn't have to restructure much. Book 2 is giving me so much grief and I'm gonna slap it when it's done.

If you hit this roadblock, it might be time to do what all mood writers hate. Detailed plotting. Go right back to basics. Write down every plot point in detail this time. Act like you're spoiling the whole entire story for someone. Have you ever watched a movie or book review where the reviewer does a full breakdown of the plot? Do that. In this you'll find out exactly where you're going wrong and be able to tweak and fix it. If you have more than one main character, I recommend doing a separate plot thing for each of them and one for the book as a whole so that you can make sure their emotional arc is getting the attention it deserves.

Then, when you're happy with the new plot you've written based on the draft of your story, go back and try to rewrite it again. If this sounds like a nightmare, it is. But it's worth the work, I promise.

From there it's a case of rinse and repeat, reread, rewrite, re-edit until you're mostly happy with what you've got. Then send it to beta readers and editors to tear apart even more and put it back together until you think it's ready! I also recommend joining some writing discords, watching streams or videos about writing, just research research research basically

Happy writing!

#writing advice #author advice #writeblr #authorblr #novel planning #writing process #authors of tumblr #answered #mine #writing #sagetheenbymage

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arquennial · 2 months

Note

too shy to say this off anon lol but I just wanted to say reading your fic inspired me to start writing my own (never even written a fic in my life but the gale brainrot is powerful). 🥹 As someone who hasn't written in a long long time, thank you for the motivation to go for it! and if you have any writing tips I would love to hear them. Have a wonderful day!

😭 I’m SO happy to hear the fic has been an inspiration to get (back) into writing!! It brings me a ton of joy to hear it especially since this story was the reboot of my writing journey too and I figured out a lot as I went along - and I’m sure you will too 💜

As for writing tips, gosh 🥹 Hooo boy so as a longfic writer I’m not great at being brief!! but a few high-level thoughts:

Reading a LOT - of the kind of works you would like to write. Whether it’s explicit erotica, epic fantasy, screenplays (for dialogue), whatever, consuming a ton of those works and studying how the authors are executing plot, characters, dialogue, etc. Especially important for skills you’re looking to develop - for example, for me atm that’s illustrating rather than introspecting, breaking out of linear timelines, and distinct character voices, but it could be anything!

Writing a LOT - the fic was the first big story I ever wrote and I posted as I went, and when I went back to edit Act 1 at the end of that 8-month process I was shocked by how much I had developed (and how much editing Acts 1 & 2 needed, lol - which I’m almost finished with now!). So yep just getting hands to keyboard and figuring it out as you go along is the way, and best of all you get stories out of it - at the beginning the quality and audience doesn’t matter as much as just doing it 😊

“Go where it’s hot” - A writer I know gave me this advice once when I asked “how do I know when to switch from outlining to writing prose?”, and I’ve found it hugely helpful in making any sort of decisions about what to work on. Writing is for you first & foremost, and in my experience the more excited you are the better the work!

Read up on theory - I only started reading and taking courses about writing halfway through the fic, which was…. uh, a little late 😂 The resources I’ve found most helpful are: 1) On Writing by Stephen King, 2) Brandon Sanderson’s writing class on YouTube, and 3) Truth Is the Arrow, Mercy Is the Bow by Steve Almond. And if you or others find any other great writing resources on your journeys please send ‘em my way because I’m always learning!

As a bonus I’d thrown in: Engage - this one is hard for me tbh because I too am shy! I literally just shared my tumblr on Chapter 105 of the fic 😂 and am slowly trying to comment more on AO3 and engage more in internet spaces. But it’s really helpful to talk to people about writing and share your work, whether it’s IRL friends or internet friends or writing groups. Definitely one I’m still working on!! In that spirit always feel free to ping me here for any other writing qs or if you need a beta reader for your first piece!

Good luck with the writing, I’m super excited for you & anyone else starting on this journey 👏🏻 and hope to see your Gale brain rot make its way to AO3 soon 😁 💜

#bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #writing tips #writing advice #I am so touched??????#back to my writing hole to try to be worthy of giving internet advice brb

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unhinged-summer-fun · 2 years

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she went west to chase her dreams

Part 1 of lost in time and space series.

Marcus Moreno x F!Reader (22+ only)

Summary: When you're called in to rescue Marcus Moreno in the field, you both get a little more than you bargained for.

Warnings: Tentacle Sex, oviposition (E G G), horny interdimensional space cephalopods, first time/getting together, fuck or die if you squint, the concept of Now You're Fucking With Portals, science but make it horny

Word Count: 4183

A/N: This was written in tandem with @ezrasbirdie (go read her tentacle Moreno RIGHT NOW it's so fucking sweet and sassy). Thank you so much for betaing this monstrosity for me, bb <3 Love u to the moon n back.

P.S. - This isn't written for Danktober (today's fic will be posted today as well.... in addition to another din djarin fic.... pls send help and wine thx)

P.S.S. - with the Flaggageddeon happening to some accts, only the reblogs of this will use tumblr tags. Get it together tumbros.

Regardless ENJOY!

You were called in for this particular problem because you dealt in... particular problems.

Marcus Moreno was trapped underneath 700 tons of concrete, steel, glass, and octopus. The Hammy Milton Memorial Aquarium had been lifted into the air as a last-ditch effort to defeat the Heroics leader on the seventh and final day of the Battle of Boundary Bay, and it had been dropped on top of the man in a great screech of noise. No one had ever thought to imagine what the cacophony of an aquarium air-strike would sound like, but the poor Canadians in the surrounding twenty miles thirty-two kilometers didn't need to imagine after that day.

Those that survived.

You were technically a Heroic. The more precise term was that you were a controlled substance, seeing as you had the tendency to become literal antimatter when you were sad enough. You'd spent an immeasurable amount of time studying the very boundaries of space-time, and a slightly less immeasurable amount of time pushing said boundaries before the Heroics politely asked you to stop.

Being ten years old, you complied, and were sent to live in Austin with the rest of the team. You trained catty-corner to the others, and while they went out to rescue firemen from 80-story buildings, you were sent to work in the labs. You were useless to take into battle anyway, as when you were scared of being hit, the atoms in your body tended to go hyperactive, allowing your assailant's fist to go straight through you. It was enough of a perfect defense mechanism that the trainers simply didn't bother honing your skills after that.

Anita Moreno had hovered her hand over your head in lieu of patting it, and said she'd think of something for you to do to help. There's always something for everyone.

Something was being relegated to the Heroics Archives, where you maintained the most important secrets of the organization in a quantum encryption server only Anita, and later Marcus Moreno, knew about. You were rarely sent out into the field, and whenever you were, it was typically to clean up messes of astronomical proportion, property damage in the billions, the like.

It felt a lot like being used, whatever this something was.

You didn't even have a super-secret nickname for your hero persona, that was how little they sent you out. Usually you were deployed with a handler and a gravity-well dampener, to make sure you didn't go full supernova when retuning the strings of the universe like a guitar. Most of the time, it was one of the anonymous, black-suited, besunglassed field agents that never seemed unique enough to remember, in retrospect. They never spoke to you, but they did hold the gravity-well dampener like the Presidential Nuclear Football, which made you uneasy.

But once, it was Marcus Moreno watching you work.

It had been in Berlin, after a zombie uprising had uprooted the city's graveyards and nearly destroyed the transportation infrastructure surrounding it. You'd been back in Texas, fiddling around with the Archives when the big red phone rang in your office. You'd scrambled to answer it, and when you were given a beacon, you zapped yourself between electrons and arrived.

"Hi!" You'd said, to a very surprised Marcus Moreno, who was looking around at the wreckage with his hands on his hips. His katanas were poking over his shoulders just like all the posters back home. "What's the status?"

He'd given you a very long list of problems, and you'd given him a very short wait for solutions. In all honesty, you'd probably over-exerted yourself in an effort to show off. Marcus had just taken over the Junior Heroics when you'd entered the program, which firmly cemented him in your mind (as cemented as anything could be) as your first and forever crush ever ever ever.

He hadn't been leader of the Heroics for long. His mother had retired maybe three years prior at the time of the Zom-Berliners, but time was funny for someone like you. Most everything that normal people considered material seemed funny to you. But either way, he was wholly impressed when you finished, headstones back in place, along with every German sidewalk and traffic light that had been knocked even a little off-kilter in the incident. When your feet touched the ground, you swayed a little, leaning on a gravestone for support before realizing what you were doing.

"Are you alright?" He'd asked instantly, which was new. Whenever you were tired after cleaning up this reality, your handlers just stood impassively, still as the statues in the graveyard you'd nearly passed out in. But Marcus was reaching for you, Marcus was helping you up with a hand on your elbow that didn't even pass through. And your heart was pounding loud enough for the both of you to hear.

"I..." you hadn't explained the love struck look on your face, the blush on your cheeks, or the rapid heartbeat. "Get home safe!" You blurted out before zipping back to Texas and screaming into the couch in your office.

But that had been two weeks ago. Ancient history in your books. It was also like two seconds ago, at the same time. And now your phone was ringing again, and you were being called to help out in Vancouver: not as cleanup, but as a real honest-to-goodness Heroic. They even had a belt buckle for you. The belt buckle didn't do anything, but you were still very, very proud of it.

You arrived next to Miracle Guy in the fraction of a second, hair flying every which way from the latent wind of the universe that no one else seemed to feel. Maybe except for Lava Girl. "What's going on?" You asked the man.

"Marcus is under there!" He said frantically. In all your time working in the Archives, categorizing news footage and coverage for each Heroic response, you'd never seen or heard him act like this. You looked at the very-crumpled aquarium sitting on top of what used to be an aquarium parking lot.

"I'll get him."

You zipped between electrons to get closer to his beacon, but something strange was hindering your progress. It was like there was... something else with you, down in that quantum space as well. You didn't have time to think about your co-traveler, though. You had to think of something witty and cool to tell Marcus when you saw him.

All at once, something grabbed your ankle and dragged you back into reality. You screeched, flailing and hitting concrete when you felt able to breathe again. You could hear dripping.

And groaning.

And not all of it was coming from the depleting structural integrity of the wreck.

"Marcus?" You called, unable to see very well in the dark.

"Over here," his voice came, that low rasp sending a shiver down your spine. Not now, hindbrain. Down, girl.

You felt your way around, wishing you had literally anything but your powers to help you with. You could manipulate most of spacetime with a snap of your fingers, but you still couldn't see in the dark. Your foot hit something slimy, and you gasped.

"Marcus?" You squeaked again. "Are you. Is that...?"

"No, that's a dead cephalopod."

"Oh. Um. Are you trapped? I mean more than is obvious."

"Not... really. I'm not really suited to get out of here, though."

"What? Marcus, this whole thing could collapse and squish us."

"Something... the Badways, they were doing something down here. It was a lab, not a parking garage. They were trying to experiment, manipulate spacetime—!" He cut himself off and hissed in what sounded like agony.

"We don't have time to talk right now, I can, I can try to zip us out, and—?"

"No!" His voice sounded pained, and it made your stomach drop.

"We gotta get you out of here, though."

"Just—can you drop me off somewhere? Like portal me somewhere... somewhere isolated?"

You paused. Something audibly squelched.

"Are you touching my ankle right now?" You asked after a moment of silence.

"In a sense."

"I'm getting us out. Breathe in, and then out. Hope your breakfast wasn't spicy."

You hadn't zipped many people before, but Marcus was important, and despite whatever the fuck else was going on, you needed to get the both of you out of there before you became the calamari side-dish no one wanted you to be. You could still hear Marcus's screams even after you dropped the both of you off miles and miles outside the city. In fact, you had no idea where you were.

You were near some kind of rocky lake, beautiful sea glass lining the waterfront in the dappled sunlight through the trees. The mini gravity-well dampener on your wrist had survived the zips, but your communicator didn't seem to have the same fate.

"Marcus, does—?"

You stopped way the fuck short at what you saw.

Marcus was still on the ground, and now you could see why. Poking out of his body in various places, and writhing beneath his t-shirt and pants, were what looked like heavy, green tentacles. Upon closer inspection, shocked into awed silence, you noticed a purple iridescence to them, shining in the late afternoon sun like a damn jewel.

"These are... new."

"No fucking kidding, Quantie."

"What'd you call me?" You said, still trying to figure out what exactly the energy signature was on those things. They were all over the place, and certainly not like anything you'd seen on regular tentacles.

"We. Oh fuck. Sometimes we call you the Quantum Crew. Because you do the job of so many people by yourself."

You were once again shocked silent. "You nicknamed me?" You said softly.

His face nearly crumpled. "It's not—we aren't teasing, we just, you never get to come with us, and you're so mysterious and everyone keeps teasing me about—oh, oh fuck fuck fuck, oh no." He arched his back, arms shaking as he— "Oh, oh fuck, fuck!"

Was he...?

Oh.

He was.

Marcus Moreno was cumming on the ground at your feet, with a bunch of probably-interdimensional tentacles just happening to him. You wanted to know more.

More than that, you wanted to be the one to make him make that noise again.

"Are you okay?" You managed to ask, heat flaring across your face like the surface of the sun. And you knew what that felt like.

"F-fiiiine." He laughed, a little hysterical, but managed to blink his eyes and clear the foggy look that had been there before. "I was trying to tell you about the uh, the—the..."

"The tentacles?"

"Yeah. Fuck this feels so weird."

"Is it... are they inside you?" You asked, feeling obscene.

"Yes and no?" He raised his hand, where you could see one sprouting out of a glowing pink hole in his wrist. It was curled around his thumb almost shyly, like how a toddler holds the leg of a parent.

"Wait. Let me see." You took his arm and peered closer. The little third thumb of a tendril booped you on the nose when you got close enough. You attempted to link your mind with it.

Hello.

Where did you come from?

!!!!!!!...!!

Why are you here?

HERE?

Oh dear.

"Marcus, you have interdimensional portals."

"Have? Like is that your diagnosis?" He exclaimed. "I'm infected with portals?!"

"Calm down, I'm... I need you to tell me what happened. I might be able to fix this."

Through another three spontaneous orgasms, Marcus managed to get through the whole story. The Badways, the world's current organization of supervillains, were working on some kind of quantum continuum harness generator in their lab - which was, as it turned out, where Marcus had been when they dropped an aquarium on top of him. Rather than try to kill Marcus alone, they'd thought covering up their entire attempt at mad science would have been better. When the crash happened, Marcus was standing near the mostly-built harness generator, and by his accounts, the portals opened up all over his body soon after. He'd explained this all in a rough, low moan.

You were getting nearly uncomfortably wet as you listened and fiddled with the grav-well. It was kind of distracting to hear him use quantum physics terms in that tone of voice. "Not that I'm complaining, but what's with the orgasms?" you asked, still not fully convinced that this wasn't all just some crazy dream.

He laughed, and thunked his head against the grass. "My best bet? Some kind of interdimensional monster is curious about our world, and poking themselves through wh-whatever hole will work." You blanched at his matter-of-fact explanation. "My consciousness has somewhat blended, or empathically connected with its mind, and apparently, it's the thing's mating season."

"Can't you tell it to fuck off?" you asked, eyeing the tendrils warily. A few of them had wound around you, almost as thick as a tree branch. There seemed to be about a dozen, and around half of them were... pulsing.

Marcus instead groaned. "Don't talk about fucking," he pleaded. "It... oh shit."

"What?" you asked, leaning over him worriedly.

"It's connected with me as well. It... it knows what I want." His eyes were wild and desperate, a look you'd never seen in all the hours of footage you archived for the Heroics, a look none of the tabloids or news outlets had seen either.

"What do you want, Marcus?" you asked, the words pulled out of you as if on a string.

"You," he said instantly. "I want you. I want to—fuck, I want so much of you. With you. For you." His whole body gave a shiver, eyes squeezing closed. "Right now, I feel like I'm going to die if I don't fuck you. The - it - the monster, it needs you."

"Fuck, Marcus—" you moaned into his mouth, trying not to lose your mind too early in the fun. "You can feel that? Feel me?"

One of the tentacles from behind his shoulder had snaked around him to slide into your pants. You tended to wear looser clothes at work. No one ever came down into the Archives to see you, so you let yourself be comfortable where you could. As a result, the tentacle had unfettered access to your core, slipping deftly around the soaked gusset of your panties and pressing in, in, in until you were gasping at the full feeling. You expected it to be cold, and slimy, but if you closed your eyes, it could have felt just like any other cock. But you didn't want to close your eyes. You wanted to remember this.

"I can feel you," Marcus nodded, a high blush settling across his cheeks as he held you close. He rocked his hips, grinding his cock against the inside of his already-ruined tactical pants with a groan. One of the tendrils was apparently growing out of a portal right next to his prostate, and the feedback loop of pleasure and attention had been to blame for his rather... spirited retelling of what had gotten you to this point. "Feel so wet around me. Warm for me," he moaned.

The two of you shared another kiss, and you reached down to undo your pants, shuddering as the tentacle rubs fully against your g-spot. You gasped harshly and nearly collapsed back down onto Marcus, but had you. His strong hands finished the job, divesting you of as much of your clothes as he could. "Fuck, you're so beautiful, been thinking of this for so long."

You whimpered at the praise and attention. "W-wanted you too," you assured him, though you were pretty sure it sounded like a formless garble. The sentiment was passed, though, from the warm look he gave you next. He seemed extremely grateful for your consent, and you were certain that he would have rather let himself die than violate you. You would have never taken advantage of him in this state either. Your bodies may have defied laws of physics, but they still followed morals and the like.

Finally, you were stripped from the waist-down, clothes strewn across the grassy hill near the lakeside you'd landed by. It was idyllic and beautiful, and completely insane. It was just the kind of getting together that suited you.

Marcus got a little furrow in his brow as he concentrated, and all at once, you felt the other tentacles begin to move around you, tracing delicately at the insides of your thighs, holding your wrists together above your head, and keeping your legs open. Even the tiny one by his thumb was part of the fun: that one was given the honor of flicking against your clit in unbelievably tight strokes. The sensations were the result of a well-orchestrated bout of concentration on Marcus's part, born of years of honing his self-control and his powers.

"M-Marcus, I need my hands," you slurred. "Gotta adjust the dampener—"

"It's all hands on deck right now, baby," he grunted, his lip sucked behind his teeth in a gasp as he felt you clench down at the pet name. "Let me take the edge off of this guy and I'll let you be as smart as you want, sweetheart."

You doubted you'd be able to muster the brainpower to do what you'd promised, but rocked your hips to signal your acquiescence to his suggestion. Marcus's eyes darkened considerably more as he dug his feet into the earth and fucked you with all he had.

The shout that bubbled from your chest echoed in the forest for a little bit before it was lost to the treetops. Two other tendrils came up to circle your breasts, squeezing them and tweaking your nipples in time with the thrusts up into your cunt. Another tendril snaked up and around your shoulders, leaving you feeling wrapped up and completely surrounded. You opened your mouth to take the tendril into the wet heat, and Marcus made a noise like he'd been shot. You sucked harder on the tentacle, working up a rhythm. The whole thing felt like an unholy ritual, with you and Marcus playing the parts of the extremely willing sacrifices.

"Look so good for me like this. So pretty with something in your mouth. When this is done you wanna ride my cock like that, pretty girl? My smart fucking girl?" he gritted out, freeing his cock from his pants before deciding on joining you in the half-nude. The tendrils at your breasts gained the deftness of Marcus's fingers, unclipping your bra and leaving you bare for him. Marcus's noise of appreciation was nearly lost in the squelch of slick between your legs.

His eyes went wide. "Uh. Fuck. Holy shit."

You made a questioning noise, but didn't dare to pull off the tentacle brushing the back of your throat. The one in your cunt was... thickening. You could feel the pulsating feeling inside of you growing faster, stronger, until there was a breach and you had to pull off just to breathe and make sense of what you knew was happening.

There was.

It was.

"Egg." Marcus said weakly.

"Egg?!" you squealed.

"Egg!" His voice grew tight and the tentacle ended up plunging ever-deeper into you, forcing the ovule as close to your womb as it could be. One, two, three in quick succession filled you, leaving you feeling heavy and a little disoriented.

His hand found yours, dropping down from the hold he'd kept them in. It grounded you back to earth, and you were glad - the sudden spike of fear in your veins almost made you liquefy all over him. That would have been more mortifying than carrying his eggs in you, to be sure.

"I've got you, I've got you, pretty girl, not gonna let go. Stay with me." He leaned up to kiss you, drawing noises and whines from your lips the way you'd drawn the eggs into yourself.

Your thighs shook as the tendril slid out of your wet cunt, the throbbing now stopped, its goal complete. You and Marcus watched as the tentacle retracted into the glowing pink portal on his hip, before disappearing completely, like it had never been there. Silence and the quiet shuffling of tentacles was the only thing that followed. "Did it just—?"

"I think it—"

"F-further testing should yield a—"

"A better theory. Which one next, baby?"

One by one, each of the tentacles disappeared into his body, the portals closing behind them after they laid their eggs inside you. All sizes filled your cunt and a few more filled your ass, distending your lower abdomen slightly and leaving you feeling wrecked as fuck. The eggs sloshed around inside of you whenever you tried to move, so you tried not to, from your position on all fours. Marcus was fully naked on his knees in front of you, running his hands all over his body to check for any last hangers-on that hadn't fucked their fill of you.

"They're gone," he rasped, his voice much deeper and rougher than it had been at the start of this.

"Thank fuck," you whined, voice nearly gone from the number of times he'd made you cum, both with the tentacles he controlled and his hands and mouth.

Something like hesitation flitted across his features as he looked down at you. "I... Quantie."

"I didn't forget," you said weakly. "And I want to, I just don't think you'd fit."

"You want me to help take some out?"

"Please. Then fuck me."

Marcus moved fast, having you bear down on his fingers as he guided the eggs out of you. They glowed that same green-purple shimmer as the tentacles, rolling away from you down the hill to the water's edge. The relief from the tension in your tummy was a godsend, and the moment it became bearable you reached back, clawing your hand at his hip to encourage him forward. "That's enough, c'mon, please, please fill me up too, Marcus."

He gave a long moan, leaning down to kiss the small of your back before pressing inside of you. The feeling of his cock in you was much different than the tentacle train that had just finished. He moved much more confidently with this appendage, fucking into you and gasping as the eggs made your cunt seem that much tighter. You fell onto your elbows, rocking back onto him with desperation. The end of this whole ordeal was in sight, but you would stay in this sex-addled haze just a few minutes longer.

He covered your body with his, no more, no less. You still felt just as safe and protected by him as you were before, which surprised you. The tender feeling took you off guard, sending your body into an unexpected orgasm, aided by the hushed praise and encouragement whispered in your ear. "Gonna take care of you, good girl, such a good girl for me, cumming for me like that. We'll get you taken care of. You're not leaving my arms for a good long while, b-baby. I've got you. Fuck, you feel amazing. Wanted this for so long." It brought tears to your eyes to think that his sexual desire was so strong even before you'd ever touched.

Well. The graveyard didn't really count.

He came almost nothing, having been more than spent over the last three hours. Still, he didn't leave your body, letting the two of you fall to the wet grass in your embrace, the afternoon sunlight keeping you warm and happy. You didn't know how long you laid like that, but when you came to, Marcus was carrying you into the lake to help you wash off. The cold water came as a shock, making you gasp while he apologized and chuckled at your flailing. He was able to coax a few more eggs out of you with his fingers, but you'd get the rest out later.

Hopefully.

The eggs that he'd extracted earlier were floating like lilypads along the surface of the lake, bobbing happily along without any care in the world. "What do you think will happen to them?" you asked, feeling strangely morose over the thought of leaving those eggs unattended. Perhaps you'd connected with the tentacle monster as well, to have such a sudden maternal affection over them. It appeared Marcus was in the same boat, frowning out at them.

"I don't know. We can come back and check in a few weeks, though." He held you around the shoulders in the lake, keeping you warm against his chest. He kissed the top of your head. "So uh, this won't be going in the report, but... I wanna take you out. We kinda did this backwards."

"Backwards is one of my favorite directions of time," you said, holding onto his forearm.

"What are the other ones?" he asked, moving to kiss at the shell of your ear.

"I think I'd need to spend a whole lifetime explaining that," you laughed.

"Well... I'm listening."

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