Chapter Text
And ah, here are the joys welcomed of being a switch and unable to bear reality, explore the external landscape of this world. I am hiding. I am afraid and simply cannot think of anything else but this. Correction; I do not want to dream of anything else but this:
What it would be like to have someone all to myself. Someone I may call mine. A monosyllabic word that essentially implies it's abruptness in finality, that it is a word to throw around and have no obscure meaning. But it does. And the true worth of that word exhibits one thing about myself: I am selfish. Unapologetically. That's the simplicity of it, truly. I am a selfish human and sometimes I am terrified of myself. Nobody knows this in my real life, and for surely obvious reasons, I shall not share my darkest secrets. It's an awful thing to feel like a monster, yet another for others you love to discover it, wouldn't you say? In addition, as volatile as human feelings are, recieving affection is something to be cherished dearly like an embrace as warm as the sun itself. (Even though it may be brief. Even though they could decide to scream at you the second after, in perhaps realisation? Either way: even if, even if.) So in all honesty, a monosyllabic word juxtaposing the gushing power it withholds is an admirable thing.
Mine.
What it would be like to have someone that is all mine kneeling at my feet, that is.
Gazing up at me with the utmost desire and radiating arousal, thick and heavy; being able to sense how desperate they are for me just from the glint in their wild, wide, wanting eyes. Just from the cute, crisp, coy hitch in their breath. Just from the subtle, small, serene shift to spread their folded legs a little wider. Yearning, they would be for me and I would savour these little expressions/actions they made like the monster I am - swallowing a dear in headlights whole. Merciless, I would be. And so my thoughts wander on...oh, what it would be graze the pad of my thumb over the plump flesh of their flushed lower lip, softer than I have ever dreamt; this, I shall also claim to belong to me. This, especially.
The simple, lingering fantasy of what it would be like to toy with someone this way stirs a tantalising, dark pool of warmth in me that is almost too overwhelming and sweet to discover. It's the anticipation, the push and the pull, the mere knowing of all you could do to them, all that you ae willing to do with each other, and never tire of, what it would be like to understand the unpredictability of both of your actions that fuel the roaring fire, ignite the fleeting spark, incite the joint chaos within each other that is too exhilarating to rise from. Reality becomes a lie. Undeniably, I crave this unpredictability in how things would turn out with myself and my future significant other. Keeps you heated, on the balls of your feet, ready to move and match their pace as if to be a dance, a duel, alike.
Wouldn't that be wonderful?
Moving to apply light pressure to their crotch with the ball of my foot. I feel as though there is something strangely intimate about this gesture. So, no, it is not a foot fetish thing nor exactly a strong form of power play. I'll be honest, I'm a bit hesitant if it automatically has to link to a foot or power play thing, but I don't exactly care. I view it this way, in my twisted imagination; I choose, in response, to embrace it.
So when it comes down to it, this action is something far more vulnerable in a sense, and abstract in our depiction of mere power play. There would be a bond between them and I. Certainly with eye contact as I do this, as I roll my ankle ever so slightly, sided with increased pressure - calculated in fully well knowing what I am doing to them, which is another thrilling thought. But I am doing this out of love. I like to think of this being symbolic of us...us falling. A dance. A duel. One stumbles and falls, and whichever one of us that may be in these unpredictable wavering events, it won't matter, it wouldn't limit our fun, the gasoline to our scorching fire to engulf this pitiful world in our flames. We would rather stumble and fall for no other than each other.
Language fails us, always.
Words are flimsy and futile, always.
So, in this case, I do not believe that my writing shall do any justice in attempting to describe this extraordinary feeling of belonging, even on your knees - this extraordinary sensation of the imperfect perfect version of home, engulfed in your own untamed fire, for once, with another person. To be on your knees, defenceless and vulnerable in front of the one you love is to give up everything, is to dive into oblivion, knowing you will either be caught or fall together, in the heat of your joined flames. And whatever entails, will be delightful in the company of one another.
This is raw. This is unbearable. But this is the only true thing in this life for me.
Or, I mean. I would like to think it would be..(after having lost hope in all else). I have yet to experience as such.
I would like to imagine that I would see this, feel this, as I continuously apply pressure with my foot against their crotch. Those feeling would be what is hiding behind my shared heated gaze with them. It would be exhilarating.
Further, I fantasise.
At this point I am relentless.
I enjoy painting this picture in my mind that they would arch at this touch, and what a sensuous arch their back would form. A hitch in the breath, perhaps. Them reaching for my calve, the other hand curled around my ankle using my foot to apply this pressure. Such a firm, grounding grip that I would be able to feel their moon-crescent shaped nails embedded into my flesh. Their touch searing, addictive enough to wish I could burn forever like this, with their touch, sparks shooting through my nerves, all to dissolve in my veins as the coiling, heavy lust that never underachieves to overwhelm me - in the best possible way. Thier searing grips, to feather-light grazes would never fail to make me feel truly alive. Alive, and something to continue living for. Someone.
Their touch would simply be enough to ignite many aspects in my I was unaware I could even think or feel, leaving me stunned though longing for more time and time again, like the selfish, disgusting human I am. My eye contact with them would still not be broken, for nothing could break us apart unless we allow it. Our shared gaze defies all. It is the embodiment of our shared emotions, shared past, shared future, shared home, shared safety, shared internal conflict, shared ambition, shared passion, shared flames. And in this moment in realisation of all things I share with them that is enough to hold my distorted soul together, I would be thinking of only one thing:
Human emotions are such volatile things yet this time it would not feel so horrifying. To fall and crash. To fall towards my own self-destruction due to the amount of raw love I feel for someone else, but only because it is them. Only them.
Beyond the course of time and nature, the power it withholds to bind us to reality and inevitable death: them.
Beyond the world as we know it imploding due to all the human species has ever taken away from it - I care not. I would not care as long as I may drift, and drift idly with them, and only them.
Always them.