#From Beyond & Afar | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

persephoneflouwers · 2 years

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can u elaborate more on ur tags about h not doing mp promo? 👀

Alright, but I just want to say this is not a statement whatsoever. I just like the elaborated process behind every possibility lol so im very open to discussion

But first, let me ask you a question and I want you to be as honest as you can. If you were a director (a normal one), would you want your movie to be strongly associated with H now? Not acting wise, but in terms of the negativity and bad attention Harry brings to your projects? It’s not even his fans, because many would support him, rightfully so. It’s more like the negativity following him from his non-fans and literally any person outside his professional bubble.

I am trying to fact check the news of the anticipation of the london premiere, but many My Policeman UAs reported the premiere in London was on October 18th. For some reasons, it turns out to be on October 15th when Harry’s show in Chicago has already been scheduled for months. It felt weird, right? The 18th news could be false, as far as I know, btw.

It’s not even the fact he’s not there, but it’s the way they keep making sure he’s seen anywhere else. It was the fan pics and the dog vid (?????) in Chicago, it was the pics from the Wolf Alice concert, it was the video for the mercury award (was that a towel on his shoulder? Was it there because he was recording it in a hurry? Was it there to cover the merch name on his sweater because he’s a walking billboard but only if his team can profit out of him? But that video was… telling to say at least - mind you, I know he’s a singer and that was for his career but it would take him literally 30 seconds to record a message - or a tweet, a wink on the story, anything! - if he couldn’t make it to London). All meant to let us know he’s simply not there for the movie. I want to go in the other direction a little, because it happened in the past before, so he doesn’t come from nowhere. How would people take this behaviour if it was related to the other movie? They would say he doesn’t care, that he doesn’t want to be involved. They would consider the director words about his fans absolutely fake and they would find shady things in posts (like David’s, bless him, he seems such a sweet and nice angel). The “every publicity is good publicity” state of mind doesn’t always apply. Sometimes, some things need a smoother approach and a movie like my policeman could benefit from it. It’s not like a “vade retro Harry Styles”. Nothing like that. I think they genuinely appreciated H there, but still my opening question stands. It is also possible this was the deal and conditions from the very beginning. Some sort of restraint to the rumours about the sexuality. Like he could do the movie as long as he wasn’t part of the promo much (share some trailers and go to the TIFF premiere and that’s it), there’s no way to know for certain.

Not to mention the way they keep giving the fandom hints of something new coming, like the you are home site first and the gill thing yesterday night. If you’re just sitting there and getting second hand information about what is happening around him, It feels like stealing the thunder a bit? Maybe? Again, this could be just the poorest timing schedule in the history of the world.

It’s sad because for him, knowing what we know and knowing what his reputation is, all this is even more alienating from the community. I don’t want to sound as a person who doesn’t have sympathy towards a closeted person or whatever, because I do. As a person who’s not out myself, I know. Really I do. And that’s why I can’t be here and watch how this punishment is constantly pushed on him. I’m not looking the other way, but there’s nothing I can do and for someone like me who has devoted her own life in helping people and swore on the Hippocrates vow, sometimes it’s too much. I’ve been silently protesting and in my little world that is working because I’m still standing for my own values. I had to take several steps back and that’s why I don’t engage with his content that much. I will jump on anyone else’s throat if they don’t love him the right way. Still. I couldn’t care less of these movies, but it’s so sad the constant favouritism they have been showing. I just can’t help wondering what the hell he signed for and who is really having his back at the moment. I call him my Persephone for a reason. At the end of the day, I hope he’s just doing fine and that the things he’s getting out of all this are worthy on the long run. Obviously people are allowed to live the fandom experience in the way they are more comfortable. So please be kind on somebody else reaction.

Also as I’m writing this, gems (interlude) by little simz started playing. It seemed very fitting. Go have a listen <3

#i hope I was able to articulate this in a respectful way #i don’t want people to misunderstand this #because honestly it’s such a delicate topic but this is where I stand at the moment #it’s hard channelling your opinions in a language like english #becuase sometimes I feel like I lose the nuance of every single word #so i hope this is well put but I really am open to peaceful discussion around this topic #if you agree or not haha #but please don’t compare it to louis’#because in my eyes in this moment it’s not the same #not the same at all #and i know this is a very fierced opinion but you wont change my mind on this #it’s different and allow yourself to see how differences work in these two situations #so yeah i will be watching them from afar #supporting as i can where i can #but it’s very sad at the moment (at least if you’re seeing beyond the brand and the golden boy image)#casella di posta numero 32

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pepi-nillo · 2 years

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inspection inquiry lee dongsik looked so fine tho

#i usually respect dilfs from afar but. it's lee dongsik #he always looks fine #but that seoul air be hitting different ig #beyond evil #lee dongsik

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eorzeashan · 1 year

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Okay, the agonies of deciding to play the uno reverse card in dms or ask, but I feel like it's only right lest the game continues with tag yelling akdnfladsfnl (I want to frame them on my wall and cherish them 5ever) So, at the risk of repeating tags, sliding an Uno reverse card across the table. Eight's thoughts on Tyr. Hit me. xD

Asdghjkl Ok whew. Man. Let's just say I did the old parent stereotype of folding my hands behind my back and staring into the distance in contemplation over this one and now I popped an ibuprofen just to answer it the universe conspires against me-

Where to even start. Let's begin with his whole deal with Cipher Nine in the first place, which is only part of the identity of Tyr, though one can hardly be divorced from the other, yet where does Nine end and Tyr begin? Are you a number like me, or are you more?

Eight has spent his entire career living parallel to Nine. In his own mind, he's already made a relationship of his own with that character, the one he can only watch the deeds of from afar and see how their actions affect all those he cares about and his home of Intelligence in an undeniable ripple effect. He very much lived in his shadow, but not in a negative way- it was like they were mere feet away from each other in the same place, in the same time, yet they never crossed during their tenure as Ciphers. So there he was, across the pond. He saw it all as the "reserve" Cipher of the bunch, in the aftermath of the Watchers scrambling around or Intelligence going on lockdown and in the heavy slump of Keeper/Minister's shoulders. Eight was never allowed to meet the other Ciphers as he was assigned to "clean up" the missions that went awry as a last resort, so if he did, chances were that he only existed next to them for the briefest of times and it was an extraction mission that had them unconscious from being captured or something that left them too busy to talk. A bit like a Death's Angel that swoops in only when an agent has no way out. That kept most of them away from him, his presence a reminder of a traumatic moment or agonizing failure.

Yet as agents who are trained in all the skills that make them impossible to exist in society, it makes them inevitably drawn to one another no matter how many lines divide them in the same way both Tyr and Eight try to form a relationship with Shara.

Eight sees Cipher Nine. He was there. Nine was the star of their division, the hero of it--even reluctantly, and how could he not feel close to the one Cipher who isn't nonexistent in his own space, almost close enough to touch? You can't really know someone by their deeds alone, but he felt as if he did because Nine had such an impact on Intelligence and everyone he knew that it was like he was right there next to him. Something something the objects in the mirror may be closer than they appear.

And he admired him. It's that wandering thought when they briefly loosened his leash for him to go out in the field where he considered what made Nine so special to all of them to affect them so profoundly, while he'd be in a room littered with bodies and the dirtiest of work up to his knees in muck. Nine, do you use violence as a tool? Would you ever come down here with me? Or are we as far apart as the lines they draw between us? He thought things like that everyday. He'd come into Intelligence with the routine and see what new shakeups Nine had brought in their wake, prod Keeper about his latest stressor, or Watcher 2 (not likely, she shoos him off half the time. He sees the way her eyes look a little wet).

Sometimes he wondered if he'd ever have to be the one to pull Nine out, but Nine was so brilliant that it never happened. It was a heavy burden in the end even with his success, and I think that's a huge point they both understand; to always carry the fate of your world on your back in do or die scenarios. Eight's side of espionage was just a more miserable one that few came back from, and I think the entire reputation and concept surrounding Nine made him feel a little better knowing someone out there just like him was fighting for everything they believed in. The heroic stories Keeper would come back with were remarkable. It put a bandaid on Eight knowing he was very much doing not...that.

Then Nine's tenure got impossibly dirty and Intelligence was mired in some complicated stuff that resulted in its imminent dissolution.

Eight has always on some level, looked out for his fellow Intelligence workers. It was his duty and form of curiosity because he lived in Intelligence much more than any of his other Cipher counterparts, with being stuck at home base and unwitting witness to it all. He stuck his interventions in where he could to preserve their sense of selves as the one who'd already thrown his away, so it meant he could bear what they couldn't. Stars knew that being in this business for too long took chunks out of you if you had too much heart, but having too little resulted in... well, him.

Nine seemed to hit that perfect balance between operative and person, but that made them such a prime target for a whole world of misery that Keeper's protectiveness became Eight's own out of a desire to ease his burdens as well. And THAT sums up just about what Eight feels about Nine.... just one face of Tyr.

Tyr himself, behind the mask when they're both alone and Intelligence is gone.... is not someone Eight knows. Yet. He wants to. He has no reason not to. This person is the one Keeper gave everything to protect as did countless others, and in essence, is Intelligence's last legacy. So this is home. His life is already his before he even meets his eyes. He also... thinks Tyr must be what Keeper wanted him to be. Which raises a lot of questions in his mind, but all he knows is that he will follow him to the end of the galaxy. He needs to know if he's the answer he's been searching for.

Tyr doesn't even quite know for himself what that means, but Eight, as always, has the patience of the stars to help him find it together. The fact that Tyr tugs on that little thread that ties them together through their shared history is incredible to him, when he's spent his life being everyone's shadow and part of what most would leave behind in a heartbeat- both a sordid past in Intelligence and Jadus. Why? is the question that colors both their minds, and it's okay if the answers aren't there immediately...because they came in the form of someone else. All they have to do from here is decide what two Ciphers are going to do next in this big, empty universe without the people who'd ordinarily tell them to.

I think Eight would be amused by how Tyr admires his conviction, which he downplays as just his resilience and training. Tyr himself is fascinating to him. Incredibly new and different from just the uniform that existed in only Intelligence, and with a lot more experiences under his belt Eight wasn't privy to. He's full of contradictions. He has a protectiveness that feels like Keeper's but far more bold and outgoing than the old man's mitigations. His hands are very warm, too. It's like watching ideals and pragmatism constantly at war with one another in one man. Eight's instantly attracted to it like a moth to flame. He's never quite met anyone who cares so deeply on a personal level for no-names either, and it's nothing like his own oath of loyalty to Keeper's flock.

I suppose that's called being seen, because he's out of masks to present when there's no need for any around Tyr. It's starting from scratch with each other and between agents, that's not a basis you can have so easily in this galaxy. I think they'd be just fine getting into trouble together, learning what the hell life is when you're not just a number and how fucking scary it is to finally ease yourself out from that. But you're not alone. You're not alone.

This is getting long but I still haven't encapsulated how confronting Jadus might go. Eight loves him. He does. Yet he's very aware of the position this leaves them in, and he has to choose. Every mission comes to a conclusion, and Tyr is about once-in-a-lifetime as it gets; I think he battled the entire time he was with Jadus in seclusion over where his loyalties would lie and the potential end it presents. Jadus gave him the world, and he in turn did the same for the one Lord he'd ever swear to. So he doesn't see it as betrayal when he leads Tyr to finish to what he started, if Jadus isn't quite willing to let sleeping dogs lie either. But it is the turning of a new page where whatever happens in the dark of that cave is where his life goes next.

Jadus might even be testing if Nine-- Tyr is strong enough to take Eight away from all this. Only the worthy. And in turn, Eight can only fight for ideals that cannot break under the hammer of the world. But he believes in him. He knows Nine's strength, and if Tyr the person has conviction just as iron, he'll go with him anywhere. Jadus has to acknowledge that, and Eight, ever-changing, would give up his home in the Dark Side if Tyr's character is true and he wished it. That's the extent of his promise. The best result would be to not break off his connection to Jadus and still find newfound freedom with Tyr, but that is how far he is willing to go, personal heartbreak included. And what a conversation that would be, about how fear when you've lived in it your whole life-- the fear of being caught as a spy is a fear of a fate worse than death, the fear of losing loved ones, the fear of failing but in turn realizing what it is you must value most-- becomes a beloved friend.

#swtor #ask meme: answered #tyr deckard #oc: orradiz #i dont even feel like this fully captures my thoughts!! there's so much to be explored #the main one being the weapon who is a weapon above all else wants to be a person with the person who was also a weapon #it must be so strange looking at this person you watched from afar and now it's just you and them.#like two last people in the world #and eight is just all 'oh i'm not actually good at anything except killing. i hope that's ok' tries to fade quietly into the nooks #gets pulled back out #what do you want beyond this spy business? hmm well...keeper wanted me to fail a little more I guess. do you know what he meant by that?#tyr has so much life to him eight would be in awe.

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raccoon-queer · 1 year

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that bpd feeling when everything is so not okay that you can't even take steps to make it better

#ace speaks #I can't reach out #I can't talk about it without trying to make it a joke or changing the subject #I can't think about it without crying #my therapist hates it when I say I'm fucked up but really. what else could I call it?#I want to disappear into the shadows and watch everything from afar #it's too much to be here when I'm so lonely #I'll just fall into myself until I shrink beyond recognition or hit the ground

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oldestking · 1 year

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/ I know for a fact that if my g.il met C.onstantine, he would be infatuated with him immediately

#;ooc #ooc #INSTANTLY STRUCK #that man is too powerful-#he holds powers beyond comprehension-#im saying this as if c.onstantine doesnt look like some guy -is the standing man emoji-#and yes im sort of rubbing on him this but it actually makes a lot of sense #the last roman emperor;; the man who fell with his army and for his city #its pretty evident that g.il holds in pretty high regards individuals with perseverant hearts that fight for their goals no matter what #and if c.onstantine isn't a clear example of that i dont know okok-#LISTEN;; if o.zy can have a sorts of crush on a.rash;; why cant my g.il have it too with a certain s.ervant okok #g.il would be rayshifted somewhere and he'll be like: :just throws reg weapons from afar:#c.onstantine: -exists-#g.il: MOVE mongrels; this fight belongs to me :will absolutely show off-#next on the list is k.arna which i said before;; and they actually have had interactions before #i think both cases he's just like :unspoken respect:#k.arna is v different to him but both feel this silent sort of mutual respect for the other #i have a lot to say about k.arna and g.il but i will finish my t.edtalk here thank u #/theres very very few people whom he feels genuine interest over (unless they were to prove themselves)#it do be like that; spoiled k.ing smh-#OH NOT TO MENTION;; c.onstantine has no sort of divinity in the sense that he was just a human #that's just fascinating to him;; the sheer raw strenght of human determination

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ralith · 1 year

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Not gonna get involved in today's Que/Wheeljack debacle, but as someone who has watched their favorite character take so much shit over the years, I'm quite enjoying watching another character get demolished.

#the whole thing is beyond childish but fun to watch from afar

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spkyscry-a · 2 years

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She’s missing it! Again!

#Beyond All That We Know ;; Ln'eta #What's All The Fuss ;; Dash Comm #watching from afar throttling the air #she wants to be in the prime casual friday area

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solarnexas · 7 months

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U TTER LY delusional abt fandoms of media i know nothing! about and this is bcs a my memory is a forever unreliable facet of my life and b. i domt know anything. never have knowm anything but i sooo love these fandoms and im sooo enthralled im !!!!!!! about them but also im vv ignorant about all details forgiv e me oh my god

#fandoms delusional abt their media pieces make me so hype all i want is to be included but! no time no brainspace no resource rn so im just #freaking out from afar so v distressed &in love. this is also v true for all the fandoms im in even there's no difference exceptforsufferin #handling myself is beyond me but im trying #m

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tojipie · 7 months

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welcome home <3

he’s unboxed ! who cheered. by far one of my most requested fics of all time. started this series 6 months ago and it remains one of my favs :,) this is by no means the end though ! i haven’t been writing any of the additions to this series in “order” and i am still 100% open to writing about his life inside/after prison lol. thank u to all the lovely ppl that have been showing love to these since april mwah mwah mwah mwah

as always, prison bf toji series linked here <3

content: (incarceration, fem reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, p in v smut, pining, road head, swallowing, creampie, dirty talk, multiple rounds)

“just step through here and—yep,” the guard waves his security want across your outstretched arms, clearing you to take your belongings from the conveyor belt.

you’d done this dance a hundred times over the past seven years, driving up to the district penitentiary twice a week to see your boyfriend—now fiancé.

toji told you he didn’t have it in him to wait, popping the question during a conjugal visit a month ago.

the man had known he’d wanted to marry you even before he got locked up. the feeling was mutual, but unspoken, always hanging in the air between the two of you.

you on the other hand had known you wanted to marry toji the moment he whispered his first “i love you,” said to you through the crackly speaker of a burner phone on a night when neither of you knew if he’d be coming home or not.

you make a beeline for the release wing, breaking into a subtle jog without drawing too much attention to yourself. the bouquet of green flowers you’d bought at the grocery store jostles in your purse, leaving a breadcrumb trail of stray petals.

there, around a bend and down the corridor stands the man of your dreams, flanked by officers and personnel at the front desk.

metal cuffs clack together as the man reaches to accept a clipboard from the release agent, skillfully uncapping the pen with his teeth to fill out the means for his freedom.

he looks up a split second before you speak, dropping the clipboard with an audible clatter. toji tears down the corridor with a look that speaks of relief beyond words.

“toji!” you yell, sprinting to the inmate with outstretched arms. you nearly trip over your own feet with how quick you barrel towards him.

warm bodies clash together at last, squeezing, cradling, and caressing every inch of each other at last. his law enforcement entourage watches from afar, some smiling, others annoyed.

you’re lifted clean off the ground as strong, tattooed arms slip over your head and around your body. thick fingers work their way into your hair, cradling your head to his shoulder.

actions speak louder than words, you know that much from how quickly he buckles, dropping to his knees with your body still wrapped around his.

toji smells different every time you come to visit. there were days when the tang of blood stuck to his skin no matter how hard he scrubbed, a telling sign of his short temper.

other days he’d smell like the earth, soil from the rec field permeating his already brown garments after his morning run.

once in a while, you’d catch hints of industrial paint and car exhaust, a smell built up from hours of making license plates for pocket change from the state. “pennies,” he’d tell you, “that’s all we fucking get in here.”

today, toji smells like himself. like the man you fell in love with 7 years ago in the passenger seat of a BMW, gazing into green eyes while gentle hands brushed the hair from your face.

you almost think he’s laughing until warm tears trickle through the porous fabric of your shirt.

strong shoulders quiver as quiet sobs rack his body, you rub his back in small circles, unable to pull away with how tight he’s holding you against his chest.

“i love you,” the inmate whimpers, wiping hot tears with his sleeve. he pulls back to press your lips together, mumbling nonsense in between kisses.

“pretty girl—m’ sorry— missed you,” his hands shake as they curl into the fabric at your waist.

you’d seen him cry exactly twice in his life. the first being the night he’d opened up to you in full for the first time, quietly relaying stories of neglect and abuse from his childhood while you kissed tears from his cheeks.

the second was well, the day he went away.

to see him break down like this so openly was devastating. he hated being emotional, told you it was humiliating. you’re sure he felt more than vulnerable, the leader of the city’s biggest drug ring, crumpled on the floor of a prison hallway

“it’s okay baby,” you tell him, still rubbing circles into his skin.

to touch him like this, at last, was unlike anything the two of you had been allowed to experience for the past 7 years. this wasn’t your two legally allowed hugs at the beginning and end of your visits, or a quick fuck in a storage closet.

this was love. to hold and be held in front of law enforcement personnel without threat of being reprimanded. this was the first time you had been allowed to feel him under the tips of your fingers with an audience, publicly declaring your claim on each other without fear.

you never blamed toji for what had happened, as angry as you were that first year. he blamed himself enough for the both of you really.

you’d come to learn over the years that it had already been too late for him to get out of his line of work way before you’d found each other, a cycle he couldn’t break.

prison was always a possibility, inevitable even. that’s just how it was.

you slowly gather your purse off the ground, cellophane-wrapped flowers coming into view.

“for me?” he laughs, slightly embarrassed. dark green carnations, just like his eyes.

“who else?” you tease, watching the distress melt from his face.

you share a look briefly, yours saying you’re safe with me. his saying i know.

the soft clicks of black work boots pull you from your thoughts, a female officer in tow.

“you guys ready to get started?” she asks softly, shooting you a sympathetic look.

toji stands with a chuckle, not letting you respond. silver cuffs dig into the meat of your thighs as you’re carried back to the group.

˚ ✧ ───────────

half an hour of paperwork for his freedom. that’s what you give the prison in exchange for his belongings and dignity.

the waiting room is quiet, sterile air filtering through dated vents. calloused fingers rub over your ankle, legs propped up in his lap.

“feels like a hospital in here,” he mumbles, trying to cut through the silence.

the cuffs are gone, thank god. though you’re more than unhappy with the marks they left on his wrists. toji doesn’t seem to mind, used to almost a decade of this treatment.

the release desk worker slides you two a yellow bag under the glass divider once you finish your task, pointing you in the direction of the bathrooms in case toji wanted to change.

the inmate—no, ex-inmate you remind yourself— hands you the bag with a disinterested look.

he doesn’t want to remember, you realize. too scared to wear the suit he had on the day the world took you from him. you quickly trash the old clothes and hold out your shoulder bag to him, fresh clothes neatly folded inside.

“always prepared huh?” toji smiles, grateful at the gesture. “haven’t changed a bit.”

you wait a couple of minutes outside the single-stall bathroom, physically picking your jaw up off the floor when he emerges.

to say that his old shirt fit would be... egregiously wrong. blasphemous even.

toji’s shirt doesn’t just “not fit”, it’s bursting at the seams as it struggles to accommodate his hulking form, stretching over plains of corded muscle like a rubber band pulled too tight.

seeing him so often had likely gotten your brain used to the change, preventing you from realizing how fucking big your fiancé had gotten. truly.

the black garment is so tight against his body that it’s practically a second skin. you make note of the way it molds into the dips and curves of his abs, mentally reminding yourself to get him to wear it for you later.

you suppose the change makes sense. if toji wasn’t with you on a day visit he was always in his cell, sticking to a strict workout regimen to take his mind off things. still, you rack your brain trying to pinpoint how and when such a massive transformation slipped your mind.

a tattooed hand snaps you out of your trance, cradling your cheek.

“you focused?” your fiancé teases, rubbing circles into your jaw with his thumb.

“i think that thing’s gonna explode if you move,” you swat his hand away.

“would you rather i take it off to be safe?” he asks, jutting a thumb behind him at the waiting room desk.

the workers make no attempt to hide their oggling, faces pressed against the glass barrier separating your party from theirs.

“no— god keep it on,” you mutter, shooting them a nasty look.

“you and your girlfriend ready to go fushiguro?” an officer says, holding the door open for the both of you. toji squats down momentarily to get a grip on your thighs, folding you over his shoulder to carry you fireman style.

“wife,” he corrects, shouldering past the guard and trudging down the corridor with calculated steps.

the coos that ring out from the help desk are humiliating.

waxed tile fades into worn concrete as the two of you pass the threshold into the prison parking lot, your soon-to-be-husband muttering a curt “go fuck yourselves” to the officers who’d wished him good luck on his way out the door.

you’re proud of him for holding his tongue, in a way. knowing toji and his temper there were a hundred more creative and undoubtedly gruesome things he could have said to the personnel who’d kept him locked up for the better half of a decade.

the world flips right side up again as you’re gently placed on your feet in front of the car.

toji raises his head to the sky, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun.

“s’ nice,” he mumbles, reaching to intertwine your hands. “felt the sun during rev time but.. not like this.”

you hum, rubbing your thumb over tattooed knuckles.

“get ready to experience a lot more sun then,” you giggle. “wanna have a look at the car?” the question is more of a rhetorical one at this point considering he’s already running his hand over the hood with a whistle.

“haven’t seen this baby in a while,” he smiles, internally gushing at your choice to welcome him to the world in the car he used to drive you home the night you met. your fiancé doesn’t have to say thank you, you know how grateful he is from his smile alone.

he falters for a bit, looking like a newborn fawn with how careful his steps are as he circles the vehicle. you figure wearing proper shoes instead of rubber slides must feel at least a little abnormal after 7 long years.

“alright,” toji states, rolling his shoulders in his too-tight top. “fuck are we waiting for, i wanna go home.”

˚ ✧ ───────────

you pay no mind to toji the first time he turns to look at you, opening his mouth to say something before slumping back into his seat with a frustrated sigh.

the fourth time it happens, you speak up.

“what are you doing?” you laugh, eyeing him from the driver's seat

“getting rubbed to death by my fucking zipper,” he mutters, repositioning his lower half to take the pressure off his cock. his frustration isn’t aimed at you in the slightest, all blame placed on his bottoms.

oh.. oh.

the whirlwind of emotions toji had gone through in the past 3 hours alone had taken a toll on his mind and body. but tasting the first morsels of freedom with you, alone in a car that smelled like you? you’d be worried if he wasn’t hard.

you had no problem helping his little problem go away, the question was how soon.

the idea that piques on you is absolutely shameful, you’re not even sure where it came from but you don’t have it in you to care.

you know this road, you’ve used it a thousand times to make the trip up to the penitentiary. judging by how long you’d been driving you’d say there was about 10 minutes left before ruler-straight tar merged into the twists and turns of the suburbs.

“when did your license expire?” you ask, cautiously peering in the rearview mirror. good, no cars.

“3 years ago,” he laughs, “why?”

fuck it, you think.

“you still remember how to steer?”

“course i d— oh.”

it finally dawns on him. you smile, shooting him a look that says “want to?”

you’re sure you have your answer judging by how quick he shucks his jeans and boxers down, freeing his cock from its confines.

“oh fuck,” he groans, struggling to keep his eyes open as your mouth presses against his base.

your fiancé steers while your head bobs just beneath the dash, one hand on the wheel and the other placed firmly at the crown of your head, guiding you up and down the shaft.

your throat flexes around the intrusion, fighting the hulking feeling of his length mercilessly fucking into your mouth.

“fuck, perfect girl— my girl,” he shudders, hips moving to buck into your slick throat.

“gonna cum, gonna— shit,”

fingers kissed in dark ink massage your throat softly, urging you to swallow the hot load coating every inch of your mouth. you flutter around his length, pulling back to clean him off with your tongue.

“fucks gotten into you, pretty girl?” he whispers, so out of breath you barely hear him.

˚ ✧ ───────────

you barely make it up the steps of the house before you’re shoved against the door, tattooed hands groping up and down your body with fervor.

“keys,” he says against your lips, “keys—fuck, now,” his voice is hoarser this time, desperation clear.

you whip around to jam the item into the lock, not unaware of the rock-hard dick grinding into your jean-clad ass from behind.

you’re being carried to the couch before you even step off the doormat, a stray throw blanket cushioning your fall as you’re pressed into squeaky leather.

“won’t be gentle,” toji groans, ripping your jeans and panties down in one fluid motion.” can’t right now.”

“don’t be.” you say, rucking his shirt off his body surprisingly quick. “wouldn’t want you to.”

you needed him, needed toji to have his way with you. to christen your home round after round until you couldn’t feel where his body and yours ended.

when it came down to it, you suppose

he smiles at the crude admission, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your drenched folds.

“filthy,” he mutters, said almost lovingly. toji grips his base and sinks to the hilt with a sharp groan, shuddering at the heat of your walls.

the stretch is delicious, filling you from every angle and pressing right against that special spot. you’re surprised at how easily he slams in, though you’re embarrassed to admit it was entirely because of how soaked you were.

toji immediately pulls back with a flick of his hips, pistoning into you like his life depends on it.

he hasn’t changed, you think. still so incredibly in tune with your body, skills that would put a pornstar to shame.

this was better than some quick closeted fuck under the cover of night after slipping a guard a rubber band of cash. this was primal, filthy. two bodies writhing against each other, the only goal being complete and utter pleasure.

toji makes no effort to shush you like he would if you were sneaking around, basking in your sighs and whines like water from a stream.

“missed this,” he says, licking a long, wet stripe from your sternum to your pulse. “missed you, missed having you every day.”

“you’ll have me forever,” you moan, sucking a purple bruise into the tattooed skin of his throat.

thick fingers thread into your hair to hold you to his neck, silently commanding you to bite down.

and so you do. you bite down hard on the junction of his neck and shoulder, licking over pink teeth marks as his thrusts reach their maximum speed.

the pleasure you feel is blinding. stars explode behind your vision while the curve of his cock hits that heavenly spot in you just right. over, and over, and over.

your climax sneaks up on you before you can think, ripping a wail from the depths of your chest. toji’s thrusts falter to a halt as you lock down on him, pleasantly caught off guard by the vice grip you have around him.

“oh my g— holy shit,” he groans, mouth hanging open. dark brows furrow it to a look of pure pleasure, emerald eyes squeezing tight.

“keep going,” you mumble, scratching rivets down the skin of his back. “just keep fucking me please don’t stop please pl—”

“yeah? keep going?” he teases, groping at the swell of your breast. “greedy huh?”

you did want more, that was the thing. you just came the hardest you ever had in years but you’d be damned if he didn’t keep giving it to you.

brutal thrusts shake the frame of the couch. your bodies meld like they were made for each other, sharing pleasure in the comfort that came with the knowledge that the both of you intended to fuck until you physically couldn’t anymore.

“gonna come,” your fiancé pants, mouthing at the curve of one of your breasts. blunt teeth brush over the bud of your nipple, sending shockwaves down your spine

“inside, fuck—please,” you’re practically shaking.

“inside?” he repeats, the word rolling off his tongue like gold. “you want my seed? huh?”

you nod, clutching to his naked back as he ruts into you, deeper than ever. strong hands grip the back of your thighs practically folding you in half, opening you up in ways you thought to be impossible.

hot release fills you up for the second time that day, shrouding your lower half in a blanket of warmth.

you sigh, low and satiated at the feeling inside of you, pulling toji to your chest when he collapses on top of you.

“we should probably..” toji trails off, completely out of breath. “should probably head upstairs.” he heaves, chest swelling with deep gulps of air.

“or we could go another round?” you mumble, throwing the question out there.

“shit, yeah.. probably should right?” he chuckles

taglist ! 🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies @wheredidmycrowngo @unknownspecies @ushygushybaby @ebiharachan @hoshigray @crazychaoticizzy @denypipa @watyousayin @tempest1art @sakuraryomen01 @kariito-art @vkeyy @mxtokko @inumakiiz @rosieee491 @loveme-b4by @suguxo @namjoonsbuspass @tojis-luver @complexivelovely @dancingwithdeities @sunflwrsugar @catvader101 @ktsgrl @princessos-blog @4ut0p5y @swiftsongs-mp3 @mycocoapuffs @adrenepinephrine @na0koz @suguscape @jaswonder3 @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @getousrep @jeannieboys @darkstarlight82

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konigsblog · 4 months

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wolf!könig dressing up as a sheep to trick sheep!reader. the whole wolf in sheep's clothing idea :(( 🐑

i got a request similar to this, but i think i might've accidentally deleted it. :( so here's my thots on the request, or at least what i can remember from it... 🙁

tw/cw: manipulation, non-con/dub-con, hybrid fucking, monster fucking, teasing, forced impregnating. dead dove: do not eat

he's had his eyes on you. drool dripping from his mouth as he bares his teeth at you from afar. he can't seem to control the way his lengthy cock hardens, twitching at the sight of a little sheep from afar. only a thin pair of light blue, cotton panties covers your body, leaving you vulnerable in the eye's of könig.

so instead, he dressed as a sheep. of course, he had to kill off one of the sheep in the farm for his costume, so he could trick the dumb, ditzy sheep into getting close. slowly, he approached you. he watched as you chewed on the grass, too stupid to realise he approaching you. he's surprised at your naivety; how easy it was to lead you away from the farm, into the woods, so he could push your head down into the leaves and branches and rape you brutally.

he listened to the soft squeals and whimpers, his claws digging into your soft skin, getting tangled in your curly fur as he pounded into you. your cunt drooled around him instinctively. of course, you didn't want this — none of it. but, god, your body betrayed you and reacted regardless of your fear and tears, causing you to squirt and cum all down his meaty shaft. the sight of könig was beyond terrifying, finally coming to the realisation that this wasn't another sheep, but your biggest fear, taking advantage of your stupidity and vulnerability.

wolf!könig dug his sharp canines into your soft neck, growling and snarling at you for wriggling and squirming, all while humping his bulbous, aching cock over your cunt, between your slick folds and against your sensitive, needy clit.

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teamatsumu · 3 months

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the best bad decision. (iwaizumi hajime x reader)

summary: “wrote a confession for character A, accidentally gave it to character B instead” - for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions

word count: 2.3k

warnings: fem!reader, swearing, oikawa is insensitive sometimes, fluff

tags: @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi

event masterlist

You liked to think you weren’t one to fall into stereotypes. But every once in a while you did something that reminded you that you weren’t different from everyone around you. Like right now, standing hidden behind the corner of this building, clutching an obvious red envelope in your hands, waiting for the volleyball team to shuffle out of their club room so you could sneak in and slip the envelope into a certain boy’s locker.

So you had a tiny little crush on everyone’s favorite boy, Oikawa Tooru. Sue you.

Your ears were on high alert, staying as still as possible so you could focus on the voices drifting out of the room. You were a bit farther away, since you wanted to be hidden, but if you strained yourself enough, you could make out the sounds. You tried not to make yourself tense, afraid you would wrinkle the envelope. You had been so careful with it. Making sure you didn’t smudge any words as you wrote, perfuming the paper afterward. You even used that expensive wax and seal that you bought only for journaling purposes. You wanted it to be known that you made an effort.

All for him.

It was hard not to fall for someone as charming as Oikawa. He was tall and handsome, he was always so nice, always welcoming to anyone who wanted to speak to him. He was beyond talented. You could watch him play for hours. You did watch him play for hours. At the end of the day, you were just like all the other giggling, blushing girls who admired him.

The only difference is that you had never gone farther than admiration until now. You had never spoken to him, never greeted him in the hallways, never made him anything to eat like girls often did. You had watched from afar and basked in the warm, bubbly feeling that comes with having crushes.

But now here you were, slipping him a letter with all your feelings written on it. You were going into this not expecting him to accept the confession. You hadn’t even put your name on it. It was anonymous. God knows how many of these he got on a daily basis. And with Valentine’s Day approaching, you were sure his locker was overflowing. What was one more, right? You were doing this for yourself more than anything else. You needed to get these feelings out because they were overflowing in your head.

You were shaken from your thoughts when you realized the locker room was completely silent by now. You listened closely, giving it another few minutes. No shuffling, no humming, not even a peep. The coast was clear.

You could feel your entire body shake as you turned the corner and stealthily hurried to the club room door. You couldn’t let anyone see you going inside, so you quickly opened the door, slipping in and sliding the door shut behind you. You let out a sigh of relief.

Then you turned around, and your eyes met wide chestnut ones.

Oikawa was standing next to an open locker, a half folded shirt in his hand. He had probably been mid fold when you had barged in, staring at you with those big browns, mouth slightly open. Thick silence stretched over you both as you stood frozen, not even blinking.

Oikawa’s eyes drifted down to your hand, the very obvious, deep red envelope. His lips twitched before a smile took over them.

“Hello there.” His voice was lively. “Is that for me?”

You tensed at the sound of his voice, your panic finally catching up to your brain as you gulped around the knot in your throat. “No!”

He raised an eyebrow at that, tilting his head a bit. A lock of his hair fell over his forehead. “No?”

“No.”

Another silence, awkward as anything. You couldn’t move at all. You felt like you were frozen in place. Every muscle in your body was pulled tight. You had never anticipated that of all the people who could catch you in the locker room, it would be Oikawa himself.

“So who’s it for?” He then asked, eyes darting between your face and the envelope. You felt your face burn, heating up so much it made you dizzy.

“It’s-” Your mouth was so dry. You had no saliva. None. Not a drop. It felt like you were incomprehensible. Could you even speak? Or was it all gibberish? Were you spiraling now?

Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god-

“It’s for Iwaizumi-san.”

Oikawa blinked at that, and you realized you had caught him off guard. Well, he wasn’t the only one. You had caught yourself off guard too. It seemed that, in the midst of your panic and staring at Oikawa, the only other person you could name was Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi Hajime. Oikawa’s best friend. Seijoh’s ace. Someone you saw just as much as Oikawa considering they were attached at the hip. No wonder when you had to think of someone, you thought of him.

“Well now I’m truly shocked!” Oikawa sounded jovial, placing a hand on his hip, his half folded shirt crumpled in his other hand. “A confession for Iwa-chan? I never thought this day would come!”

Your mind raced and you tried to scramble your thoughts together into somewhat understandable sentences. But you had just dug this fresh hole for yourself and you didn’t know what to do to get out of it. In fact, at this moment, there was no getting out of it. You had to go along.

“Y-yes.” You managed to blurt out, not knowing what else to say, looking anywhere but at him, who was steadily growing more and more amused by the second.

“You have to give it to him!”

Your head snapped up, and that’s when you realised what true panic was. What you had felt so far was nothing compared to the shitstorm your brain was experiencing after what he had just said.

“Come on.” Oikawa threw the shirt carelessly into his locker, slamming it shut and fast walking to you. With one grip on your forearm, he tugged open the club room door and proceeded to speed out of it, dragging you with him.

“W-wait!” Your voice trembled, and you doubt he even heard you. You felt like your whole mouth was stuffed with cotton. You tried to lock your legs into place and break Oikawa’s momentum. It was not happening. He was way stronger than you. You tried to pry his hand off your arm, but his grip was vice-like.

“Oikawa-san!” You basically shrieked like a hyena, finally breaking through right outside the Seijoh gym. You snatched your hand away.

“I can’t!”

Oikawa stared down at you, blinking owlishly. You bit your lip.

“Oh.” He breathed, and you saw realization wash over his face. You froze. Had he figured it out?

“I get it.” Did he?

Then he promptly turned around and cupped his mouth with his hands, leaning in through the open gym doors.

“Iwa-chan!” He shouted.

You gaped at him, struggling to even comprehend what was going on in his head. But that was the least of your worries, because trudging footsteps sounded and then the boy in question was standing in the gym entrance, scowling down at his friend.

Oh no. Oh, this is bad. This is so bad, I’m so screwed-

“Look!” Oikawa pointed at you, or more accurately, he pointed at the envelope in your hand. Iwaizumi followed his gaze, and you saw his scowl drop as shock colored his features.

“It’s for you! Can you believe it?” Oikawa let out a cackle, leaning an arm against the gym door. You wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

Iwaizumi looked genuinely incredulous, like this was something he hadn’t dreamt of in his wildest dreams. Later when you looked back on what happened, you would be surprised that despite being friends with the most popular guy on campus, Iwaizumi did not get much attention. He lived in Oikawa’s shadow, and he liked it that way.

Right now, his feelings were the least of your concerns though.

Finally free from Oikawa’s grasp, you lunged forward, slamming the envelope against his chest before turning on your heel and absolutely booking it. There was no other option. You couldn’t give that shit to Iwaizumi. You also couldn’t give it to Oikawa and say you had lied. It couldn’t get any more humiliating than it already was, so you might as well run away.

Very active fight or flight response, one might say.

Oikawa watched your back as you ran full speed, one hand holding the envelope he was so unceremoniously handed. He turned his attention down to it when the flowery scent hit his nose, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Aw, she perfumed it too! How romantic.”

He grinned up at Iwaizumi, whose ears had turned red. Iwaizumi’s scowl deepened as he stared at the shiteating grin on Oikawa’s face. But he didn’t stop himself from taking the envelope Oikawa handed to him, his heart doing jumping jacks in his chest.

………………..

When you tried to convince your mom that you didn’t really need high school when homeschooling was a perfectly viable option, she told you to suck it up and there was no way you were dropping out. You didn’t know how to tell her that your life in high school was pretty much over. How could you show your face in any place where you might run into Oikawa or Iwaizumi?

But alas, you could only take one sick day before throwing yourself back to the wolves.

You were jumpy the whole day, paranoid that somehow everyone knew what had happened two days ago. But your day went by as normal, unaffected by the storm in your head. You should’ve known your peace wouldn’t last. At lunchtime, the one person you had been dreading the most was standing before your desk, looking down at you expectantly.

“I was hoping we could talk.”

Well. This was it. The one thing you were hoping and praying you could somehow avoid.

Iwaizumi led you outside for some privacy, finding an empty bench overlooking the school’s running track. You sat stiffly by his side, waiting for him to speak.

“I read the letter.”

You closed your eyes and nodded, coaxing him to continue. You knew the contents of the letter. You had mulled them over in your head ten thousand times yesterday. You had not written Oikawa’s name. You had talked only about how you felt about him and the thoughts plaguing your head. You knew how easily Iwaizumi could have thought it was about him and not Oikawa.

“I’m sorry.” You blurted out.

“For the confession?”

You hesitated. “For how it all played out.”

That was vague enough.

Iwaizumi let out a breathy chuckle, and you looked up at him. “I think I should apologize instead. Oikawa can be a bit of an insensitive jerk.”

You felt your lips twitch into a smile, shrugging. “He kinda steamrolled all over me.”

Iwaizumi groaned, running a hand through his spiky hair. You followed the movement with your eyes, gaze pausing on how his bicep flexed. Something in your heart stuttered.

Up close, he was extremely attractive. His skin was smooth and clean, and his hair looked soft despite being so short. His jaw was defined and his eyes were striking. When he looked at you for longer than a beat, it made your insides squirm.

“I’m sorry about him. He told me he found you in the club room. I’m sure you wanted to do it anonymously. He shouldn’t have dragged you here. That wasn’t cool.”

You smiled at how considerate he was being. “It- It’s okay.”

“And I’ll make him apologize to you too. Promise.”

His lip ticked up in a crooked smile. You couldn’t help but stare. You watched him grow a bit nervous, rubbing the back of his neck. A little habit?

“I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me sometime?”

The question caught you off guard. You knew how Iwaizumi perceived you after the contents of that confession. You had just not anticipated that he would want anything to do with you. In your slurry of thoughts, you realized you had still not told him that the confession wasn’t for him. You stared at him, wide-eyed.

The sun beat down on your heads, casting harsh shadows on his face. High cheekbones. Strong jaw. And those same captivating eyes. You couldn’t remember ever appreciating him the way you were right now. Oikawa’s light was so bright it made Iwaizumi almost invisible. But here and now, it was just him. No distractions, no takeaways. Just Iwaizumi in all his glory. And it was making your heart skip.

“Okay.” You breathed.

Iwaizumi positively lit up at your words, straightening his back. His features smoothed, his eyes widened and a smile took over his face.

“Cool!” He blurted out, before clearing his throat. “That’s uh, I mean. Great. That’s great.”

You giggled as he stumbled over his words, endeared by his reaction. Your heart and mind both told you this was the right decision. With Oikawa, it was a puppy crush. With Iwaizumi, something told you it could be so much more.

Years later, when you told Iwaizumi about the exact intentions of that letter, and how you were beyond grateful you hadn’t given it to Oikawa, all he did was cackle while the Argentinian setter whined about how he had missed his chance.

He was joking, of course. He was the proudest best man ever at your wedding. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

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