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ghostwise · 9 months

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Tagged by the lovely @ghoulsbeard for a writing commentary exercise! Thank you so much, this was really fun! Tagging @coldshrugs @thevikingwoman @scionshtola and tbh I'm not sure who has or hasn't been tagged in this one... tagging all my writing friends please!! 🙌🏽💖

line(s) that made you laugh

“This pair claim to be enchanted to more easily spot nugs,” Alistair calls from the other end of the shop. “Could be useful.”

“How?” Hamal asks.

“If you have Sandal alter them to spot…”

“Traps?” Zevran asks.

“Darkspawn?” Leliana adds on.

“I can already sense those,” Hamal groans.

“The possibilities are endless,” Alistair says, quiet, awed, and mostly to himself.

- the reading stone

I don't write ensemble silliness often enough, and I had a lot of fun setting up this scene where they're all kind of goofing off. I fully believe that if you take the stress away from them for a moment they revert to dweeby antics.

line(s) that makes you sad

“I’m so glad you’re doing well. So tell me,” she scoots closer and looks at him eagerly, “What sort of life did you have, after you were adopted?”

“Adopted?”

By the kitchen counter, Hamal catches the subtle edge in Zevran’s tone. He pauses, holding the knife in his hand as a lull falls over the kitchen table, but he doesn’t know enough Antivan to guess what’s happened.

What’s happened is this: Zevran and Adelmar came from the same place, and know enough about that life to instantly understand that a lie has been told.

“Oh,” Adelmar breathes after a moment. “You… you weren’t adopted.”

Zevran lets out a laugh. It’s his ‘stalling’ laugh, and now Hamal is looking over, arms crossed, searching his face for clues.

“I was not adopted,” he says. “But do not trouble yourself over that.”

- not a homecoming, but something like it

It's obviously upsetting that Adelmar was lied to about what happened to Zevran, but I think in this moment they are both standing in the shadow of the life they could've had. Adelmar loved Zevran before the Crows ever touched him. The tragedy is, though, she was very much a child herself, so it's unfair to expect her to have been able to save him... but damn if she wouldn't have tried.

line(s) that you’re proud of

People think the desert is barren; the land harsh, the people unforgiving. They couldn't be more wrong. In all Refugio’s experience, scarcity creates generosity—not greed.

In the desert no one survives alone. It is a simple necessity to share resources, to freely give of one’s food and water and laughter. The desert gives people reason to band together. He’s never given it a second thought.

He remembers it fondly, how with each rainy season the desert comes to life.

People think the desert is barren. They don't know: the desert makes you kind.

- lovesong of the buzzard

Genuinely truly, Refugio is one of my favorite characters to write. 🥹 His voice comes easy to me; he's so vibrant and clever and funny and deeply emotional always, and this little piece is so wistful and homesick... it truly is an exercise is poetry I hope to continue to emulate. It's one of those bits of writing that make me think, oh if I can make more like this... I'm set.

line(s) you think could’ve been done better

The group ate and moved on. They chatted as they went, Cammen and Mathuin ultimately deciding on forgiveness. Not for any particular reason; just because it was easy and kind. Zevran was grateful for it.

The further they went, the thicker the forest became. Tree branches crowded overhead, but never overlapped, creating an unusual patchwork ceiling. Between the gaps in the canopy, daylight fell in dancing columns that tricked their eyes.

- for suffering is such a part

This one's kind of tough. I feel like every line has a job to do in writing, but they can't all be masterful and brilliant and insightful; that'd be silly. Some lines and passages are just there to efficiently get us from one bright spot to the next.

That being said, I could've done more showing rather than telling in fsisap. If I were to tackle it again I think it'd be really different in style, not to mention much longer 😵

line(s) that makes you want to punch a character

Atanasio was right about one thing: A Crow did not lose his composure. Even with a line of blood beginning to form at his neck, the man looked at Zevran with a wholly unimpressed expression. He remained thus, quietly thinking, before answering.

“Who?”

- quinta de talpa

This guy suuuuucks. I have this image of a man who has been tasked, for decades, for most of his life in fact, to just torture children--and he rationalizes it to himself so fully! Perceiving him through Zevran's POV makes it all the more impactful. This encounter is a nightmare from his childhood. This man is a monster he survived, when far too many didn't.

line(s) that makes you go “awww”

Hamal hums softly, happily.

“I dedicated the fight to you,” he says. “The Paragons will favor you now, I think. All of Orzammar will know.”

Zevran presses a light kiss over the dressings and gauze on his arm.

“Ah, but your favor is the only one I need.”

- tengo la vida muy corta (y tu la mirada decente)

Tender wound bandaging is a good trope and I think this little excerpt is sweet. I don't think I ever posted it here.

line(s) that contain an easter egg

For a moment she focused solely on Hamal, lying across from her. Zevran saw a moment of unmasked feeling, a deep sadness welling in her eyes, and she lifted a hand to brush against Hamal’s face.

“Is he alright?” she asked quietly. All the usual edge was gone from her voice.

“He will be fine,” Wynne responded. Morrigan’s eyes shut. She drew her hand back, and held it against her chest like it burned.

“Good,” she said softly, and Zevran got the impression, only for a moment, that she knew something no one else knew. “Good.”

- for suffering is such a part

Not sure if I'm interpreting 'easter egg' correctly, but this is Morrigan talking about the dark ritual.

I hope to write a little more exploring Hamal and Morrigan's dynamic because it's very bittersweet.

line(s) that are shocking

“Zevran, I don’t know how to shut the damn thing off!”

Hamal’s hands were mere inches from the looms, but he gripped the assassin’s ankle, trying to pull their body free.

“Leave them, amor,” Zevran said.

“But they’re—it is crushing them!”

“They’re gone. We have to leave!”

- (wip) quinta de talpa

A little snippet from a scene in QdT. It's one of those scenes where things just go terribly awry and I'm excited to edit it up and share it.

line(s) you want to talk about more

Zevran thought carefully. The story had the cadence of a very long riddle, and he had the suspicion that there was no wrong or right answer to it. He also got the impression, judging from Mathuin and Cammen’s inquisitive gazes, that the story would not be complete until he answered. It was his turn now to conclude the narrative.

He thought about it at length. Mathuin and Cammen waited patiently, silent, full of anticipation for his response.

“Alright,” he said finally, having thought about it for quite a while. He stopped by a large tree and looked up at its branches, as the others listened.

“I think both stories punish the clan, not for cutting the tree, but for their treatment of Abelas. In the first story, they should have been watching the child more closely. They knew he was destined for challenges, so they should have worked doubly to keep him from harm. In the second story, the clan should not have sought to drive the man away. They knew he had suffered all his life, so they should have helped him get back on his feet, not ostracized him. The moral of both stories is to protect the vulnerable.”

- for suffering is such a part

I am SO delighted by this scene where Zevran gets to participate in Dalish culture and storytelling, while bonding with his companions in a way that invites his natural curiosity and cleverness and creativity!!

I knew early on that I wanted to incorporate The Rowan Grove in fsisap somehow. It's one of my favorite codex entries, but it always felta bit dissonant when I considered it along with what we know of Dalish culture; so I wrote an entire scene where characters share the story in various iterations, and have a discussion about its meaning.

The added layer to it of course is metaphorical. Zevran is in many ways the central character from that tale. The comparison comes up again in later chapters.

It's an allegory on various levels, and I personally love allegorical tales. They're a great way to dig deep into a character and world. :)

#thank youuu <3 #rinnywrites

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5sosfanfictioncatalogue · 3 months

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Body Image (Issues) (TW) Masterlist

Am I Pretty? (ao3) - FayeHunter luke/ashton M, 2k

Summary: Luke's having a hard time adjusting to being home from Australia

Appetites (ao3) - ashton_cuddles94 luke/ashton M, 3k

Summary: Luke had always been skinny, and always had what he thought was a normal appetite.

Ashton loved Luke, but didn’t realise how much the blonde boy ate, until he started piling on the pounds.

Body of a God (ao3) - orphan_account luke/ashton E, 1k

Summary: To Luke, Ashton was a god. He wasn't just beautiful, he was a gorgeous oil work, every brush stroke delicately painting him. Ashton was a statue carved from marble, every bump and curve meticulously creating his silhouette.

Enough (ao3) - FayeHunter luke/ashton M, 2k

Summary: Luke is a little sensitive about how he looks and Ashton gives him love

I'll Wrap My Arms Around You Now (ao3) - nic_96 luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 13k

Summary: The one where Michael is very insecure about his body and stops letting Calum cuddle him but Calum like to cuddle, cuddling is very important to their relationship and Calum is cuddle deprived and frustrated and Luke knows too much and Ashton is adorable.

Insecure (ao3) - ashton_cuddles94 T, 1k

Summary: Ashton has gained some weight on tour and is feeling insecure.

Let Me See You (ao3) - tinyglitterrose michael/ashton T, 2k

Summary: “You are the most beautiful, most attractive man I have ever seen, Ash. And I want us to work on you seeing that the same way, okay? I want you to grow comfortable to be shirtless around me, around other people. And then I want you to become confident of your thighs, baby. I want you to be able to take your pants off in front of me and be proud of those wide beautiful muscled pieces of legs you have. I want you to freaking dance naked in the shower, while I’m standing next to you, okay?”

or Ashton is feeling insecure and Michael, the awesome boyfriend he is, makes him feel better.

make you blush (ao3) - dazedlight (opinionoutpost) luke/ashton T, 5k

Summary: "Luke peers up, and he's sure his heart does stop this time as he shrinks in on himself, worrying at his bottom lip. He really doesn't need this right now. In fact, he needs the opposite of this – he really, really doesn't want to talk to Ashton Irwin at this moment, or any moment, to be honest, because he thinks his stomach might fall out of his ass if he tries."

Or, Luke is a dweeby Year 10 who has a crush on the star of the musical.

Reflections (ao3) - punchinginadream luke/ashton M, 4k

Summary: Ashton doesn't like his body. Luke decides to fuck him in front of a mirror to show him how beautiful he really is.

rhythm (ao3) - lifewasradical luke/ashton E, 6k

Summary: The crowd laughs with Ashton, and Ashton laughs along too, but the laugh is all wrong. It’s not Ashton’s signature giggle, it doesn’t overflow out of his body and crinkle his eyes as it erupts. It’s not Ashton’s laugh, at least not a genuine one.

It’s clipped at the edges, just a little pitiful sound that no one else would know isn’t right, but Luke knows there’s something self-deprecating just below the surface, scratching at the tissue in his throat as it claws its way from his chest.

Soft (ao3) - lightsinthefloors ot4 G, 2k

Summary: 3 times Ashton notices that the boys seem to be strangely fond of his midsection and 1 time he asks about it.

The boys really love Ashton’s tummy

Subject Line - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) calum/ashton E, 20k

Summary: Maybe the sunrise doesn’t matter much after all. Calum can watch the sunrise any day. How many days will he get Ashton like this? Shirtless, sporting bedhead in a hotel room, with just the two of them for a few lazy hours alone?

Soon enough, they’ll be back on the tour bus and Calum won’t be allowed to hold Ashton’s hand anymore.

The Brambles Are Bare, And I'm Hollow Inside. (ao3) - orphan_account michael/luke, calum/ashton T, 5k

Summary: Michael is sad and his thighs don't look like thighs.

The Sweetness (ao3) - FayeHunter luke/ashton E, 2k

Summary: Luke wakes up one morning to Ashton staring at himself in the mirror. Luke reminds Ashton how much he loves him.

Your Insecurities Make You Who You Are (ao3) - orphan_account michael/calum N/R, 3k

Summary:

"Cal?" Michael sighed out, voice sounding tired. "Yeah?" Calum asked, pressing his palms flat to the door. "Do...do you think I'm fat?" And if Calum was worried before, he was on the edge of full-on panic now. "What? No, baby, not at all." He said, hands pressing harder against the door than before. "Luke said I was." Michael mumbled softly.

Or the one where Michael is insecure, and Calum wants to show him how much he loves his faults.

#5sosfanfictioncatalogue #5sos fanfic #masterlists #angst #bodyimage #bodyimage masterlist

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freebooter4ever · 5 months

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I think a lot of the dweebyness came from his early years during his shy, awkward, aww-shucks era. once he got more confident with english, he shifted to a more jock-y vibe

Haha, sorry yall are never gonna convince me that malkin was ever dweeby. Jock is winning the poll btw:

I do, however, totally buy that an american audience mostly comprised of sports fans would look at a teenage boy struggling with a language barrier and immediately label him as 'different' and 'awkward' and 'quiet' and 'dweeby' and a whole bunch of other labels that shoves him into a box and then expect him to stay in that box because they've already decided on what kind of person he is.

We know how our (US) culture works, there's hundreds of american high school movies testifying to the sports/popularity hivemind.

But thats a temporary ostracization. It doesn't feel the same as the more personality-based, more permanent ostracization of the stereotypical 'dweeb' in high school. It's very different to grow up with a bunch of kids in the same neighborhood and watch yourself slowly become excluded and ignored as you get older. that wasnt me - my mother was my bully and from elementary school on she forced me into a form of social normal that made me invisible rather than a target for school bullies. (I dont know if i would reccomend this parenting style though). But i was friends with most of those kids - the ones who nobody would talk to and everybody would make fun of behind their back (we were post c*lumbine so outward bullying was frowned upon). That boy in my square dancing class was one of the few male dweebs, his name was yusef - like joseph but with a "y" and "you" sound. And im not kidding, i dont think the poor kid ever had any friends? Even i couldnt get him to talk, and ive always been pretty good at drawing people out of their shell. Most of the dweebs were girls - colleen, diane, stephanie, alicia - all my friends, all of whom i remember better than the jocks at our school. And absolutely a conscious choice on my part, i remember the point in elementary school when i was walking home with a few girls i knew and they saw colleen and diane a half block ahead of us (within hearing distance), and immediately started pointing out everything that made the two 'dweeb' girls weird and what was wrong with them. And i didnt even say anything i just glared at the girls i was with and ran ahead to walk with colleen and diane instead. And that was that, i knew i had picked sides, i wasnt ever going to join in with the people who make fun of those that are different \o/

aaand now im dealing with a total new form of social ostracization here in LA that feels eerily familiar, but whereas in school you could ignore the social game playing and succeed in spite of them, here suddenly what job you get hangs on who you know. Everybody always used to bug me like 'why are you staying in pittsburgh so long, why havent you tried to make it in the real industry yet' and my answer was always a) i loved my team and they needed me and b) i was art director so had more creative freedom (and my own office) than i could expect to have anywhere else. But i think truthfully in the back of my mind i kinda knew - there were enough hints over the years - what this city would be like and that i would be abysmal at fighting to survive in it.

Anyway im just sayin i dont think malkin - or any of these hockey players - has ever dealt with that level of social ostracization. Its nice watching these guys be nice to other people they consider on their level, and really cute and enjoyable. But for me at least there's always that awareness that if any of them met me, im not the type of person they'd consider worthy of time or attention - probably wouldnt be outright mean, but absolutely would be trying to avoid any lengthly association lol. I think its one of the main differences between being in sports fandom vs books or movies.

ALTHOUGH god, i will never ever forget the day i met one of my biggest childhood heroes - an author about my age 24ish. Who i idolized because she was living my dream - getting to write and create for a living and starting at such a young age. And she was mostly indifferent to me, didnt say much, didnt interact, just signed the book. And i shrugged it off. But then this teenage girl came up, just radiating what we'd call dweebiness. Her hair was a mess, face full of acne, awkward, but loud and really enthusiastic about the book, and desperate for someone to share that enthusiasm. And the author was mean. And cold. To this teenage girl who obviously idolized her and would have killed to have some sign of approval even if it was faked. Anway, instead this teenage girl latched onto me and i had to try to make up for the bitchy author but i knew my approval wasnt worth nearly as much and it broke my heart. I havent read or bought a single one of that author's novels since.

so yeah, its not just jocks, but they have the worse reputation in media.

#sorry this became an essay #i have a lot of feelings about labels and especially that one

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ferromagnetiic · 11 months

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【 ⚙ 】 | 【 continued. 】 @medicus-mortem

This motherfucker. This cheeky motherfucker. So, he wants to dance, huh? Sure. He can go. He's got a couple of minutes to burn. Might as well waste them on ruining this asshat's day.

❝ Ah, well, you'd know all about animal carcasses when ya got a damn little dead mole glued to yer fuckin' chin. What, can't grow a real beard so ya had to settle for strappin' a wee rodent to your face? Shame, that. Dun' fret, maybe one day yer balls will finally drop and you'll be enough of a man to grow a half-decent beard instead of having a face that looks like a freshly trimmed gash before a night on the town. ❞

Flecks of his accent always seep through when he's ranting like this; a habit he won't apologize for. Tough shit if the surgeon need's a translation, because he isn't going to bother writing out his death report.

❝ Nah, I ain't insulted that ya hate my clothes, though. I ain't lookin' to get complimented by someone who's been stuck wearing the same jeans he bought when he was fourteen. Still clinging to that teenage youth, aye? Still hoping there's some wee dweeby boyband out there that's desperate enough to take you in? Good for you; follow yer dreams, and all that sad shite. ❞

He takes a brief pause to bring his bottle of rum to wet his lips, but barely has a chance to swallow before he's continuing.

❝ — And would ya mind not fuckin' sniffin' me, ya damn freak? Don't think I like ya gettin' up in my face and taking a whiff of me. If ya got a problem with it, either back the fuck off, or I can cave yer fuckin' nose in and it won't be a problem anymore, aye? ❞

#medicus mortem #medicus-mortem #【 ⚙ ˊˎ | RECKLESS TONGUE | ic. 】#[ // thank you for replying to this ask too :3c ]

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merryfortune · 1 year

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(I’m Not) Scared of Dancing in the Dark

Written for Femslash February 2023

Prompt: Dark

Title: (I'm not) Scared of Dancing in the Dark

Ship: Eriko/Hinata

Fandom: Healin’ Good Pretty Cure

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,988

Tags: Established Relationship, LGBTQ Themes

“So how about it?” Hinata asked over text. “Do you want to come with?”

Eriko stared at her phone. The invitation did look nicely presented, even if it did come in the form of a CureBook link and CureBook was so lame these days. The poster was glossy and corporate, mostly blue in the colour palette with anime style drawings on it to visualise the dance floor and that sort of thing. In the middle of it, bold lettering, it listed the who, what, when, and where of the party that Hinata was inviting her to.

“It’ll be, like, totally safe.” Hinata added after a moment passed and Eriko hadn’t replied yet. “All chaperoned and stuff.”

Obviously, Eriko wanted to reply to Hinata. It was a blue light disco at a youth club down in the main part of Sukoyaka, it couldn’t have been safer in theory but even so. Eriko felt her stomach stir in a very bad way.

“I’ll have to ask my parents.” Eriko finally texted back, diplomatically.

She still wasn’t sure if she wanted to go or not. She was kind of, really hoping that her parents would say no and that’d make saying no to Hinata so much easier because she didn’t have an excuse. She had a boundary set by her parents that she had to respect.

It was so out of the way, after all. Six PM on a Saturday, in the next town over. Surely it would be too much of a hassle for her parents to go through just for, like, three hours worth of a dweeby teen party at a youth club.

But... Apparently not.

In fact, her parents thought it was a great idea. Especially now that she was friends with Hinata again. They used to be so close. Such a good friends. They were really happy that she and Hinata had mended up over the lost time and lost connection. It was really, truly great that they were best friends.

Heh. Yeah. Best friends.

Try… girlfriends.

Okay, well, not really. Eriko would be mortified to say that word aloud. She wasn’t like Hinata. She wasn’t born always knowing and happy enough with that with really, super accepting parents. Eriko wasn’t even sure if she was accepting of herself and her own sexuality.

Her parents were… fine about that sort of thing. They would vote to allow same-sex marriage but anything beyond that, they didn’t really get. Like her Mum didn’t get the whole transgender or gender X thing, for example, and her Dad had really come around the bend for the most part ever since he found a respected coworker was gay.

So it seemed probable that they would accept her for being a lesbian, she didn’t feel unsafe or anything, and loved them both dearly but at fifteen years old... Eriko just was not ready to test the waters just yet. She wanted to come out when she felt completely and wholly certain about her own identity and all the baggage that would come with it.

Even if she did already have a long distance girlfriend on the downlow.

One she was even getting all dolled up to see in an hour and a half’s time. She put on a modest white dress with spaghetti straps and a skirt that fluttered with lace when she spun with strappy dancing shoes to match. Nothing that would give her blisters later on or be too smutty for the boys, her mother made her promise. Eriko adhered to it as she chose gold bangles and earrings, too.

She sat in the back of the car, more excited than she had been expecting to be. Eriko guessed it was because she was all dressed up with somewhere to go, for once. It was a quiet excitement that once again settled in her stomach but when they finally arrived at the Sukoyaka City Youth Club, it erupted all up through Eriko, especially when she laid eyes on Hinata.

Hinata flagged her and her family’s car down from the kerbside. It was still pretty light out but also kind of dusky with orangey-purple hues hiding behind the city skyline. Hinata was wearing all sorts of chunky and obnoxious bead necklaces to complement a patternless and floaty yellow shirt and her distressed, dark blue jeans. She bounced on her heel and was super excited to see Eriko.

Eriko hadn’t even closed the back door before Hinata bear-hugged her. She snuggled her and dragged her closer to the kerbside. Eriko’s Mum got out of the car and laughed.

“You’d think you hadn’t seen each other in years,” she joked, “we’ll pick you up here at nine o’clock, okay, sweetie.”

“Okay, Mum.” Eriko replied in that very teenager cadence which meant no harm but still sounded condescending.

“And there had better be no boys.” her Dad added from the driver’s seat.

“Not a problem, sir,” Hinata giggled, “it’ll just be me, Eriko, and my friends Chiyu-chi and Nodo-chi, we’ll be together at all times, promise.”

“Have fun, girls.” Eriko’s Mum said before she got back into the car.

Eriko waved her parents off. They were going on a date of her own and she was really glad that they hadn’t mentioned that as that would have been super embarrassing in front of Hinata but once they were gone. So was that initial excitement that Eriko was feeling.

She had come. She had seen. She would really like to go already but there was no way that she could tell Hinata that as the fun had only just begun.

They linked up with Chiyu and Nodoka who were inside already, staking out some place on the edge of the dancefloor for them to sit and keep their stuff. They welcomed Eriko warmly but she always felt awkward. She was Hinata’s friend even though Hinata had been her friend first. Not to mention the whole secret pact of superheroism thing they all had going on. Not that Eriko would mention that, nor was she even meant to know but they weren’t exactly subtle and had saved her bacon before.

The first half an hour or so, probably more, of the party wasn’t exactly exciting. People were still coming in and arriving, there were announcements on a speaker about the rules for the night. That sort of thing but even after that, things didn’t really pick up.

For Eriko at least.

The other girls were having fun and it just made her feel like she was intruding all the more. Even if she was Hinata’s closeted girlfriend and yes, they knew and were really sweet and caring about it but Eriko was still, ultimately, being a wet blanket outside of that. The music was pumping out the top forty hits from both here and even America which was kind of cool and the small snacks and light refreshments were fine but Eriko really wasn’t in the mood.

Even as she watched the party unfold. People were laughing and dancing and she really wanted to be up on that dance floor with Hinata, as well as Chiyu and Nodoka, but she felt cemented to the plastic chair that she was sitting on. She was pretending she was just minding the other girls’ handbags, as well as her own, but it was also incredibly obvious that she was miserable.

It was at a quarter past seven or so that Hinata had finally decided to sit down with Eriko since Eriko was the person she had spent the least amount of time with here at the party. She sat down on the chair next to Eriko’s and sprawled out over the table.

“Are you okay? Are you feelin’ good?” Hinata asked.

“Yeah, I’m totally fine, I’m just… not feeling it, tonight.” Eriko said.

“Should we call your parents so you can pack it? Maybe the trip here tuckered you out.” Hinata suggested.

“No, Hinata, it's not that.” Eriko said, frowning and frustrated. Deep down, she knew that Hinata was never going to get it, being so free and casual with her own sexuality. It made Eriko both jealous and furious. “It's just. I don’t… I really want to dance with you and have a good time but…”

“But?” Hinata prompted her.

Eriko took a breath, “But does that out me? I don’t want all these people to know about me. But some of them do. I feel like a stranger here but this is my hometown. It's really confusing and…”

“And it's fine.” Hinata said and she sat up a little straighter, her arms receding from over the table. She looked over her shoulder, at Chiyu and Nodoka who were dancing very daggy dad type dances, “You’ll blend in, trust me.”

That was… That was probably true, Eriko conceded, at least to herself. She chewed her bottom lip. Even though something like this, though a little nerdy given the decorations, was totally her scene. She loved music, she loved fashion, she loved being out and about and dancing, she was being a wet blanket.

Hinata extended her hand to Eriko, “There are so many people here, everyone’s dancing with everyone else so… will you dance with me?”

“I’d like that.” Eriko said and though it was scary to her, she felt awful in her stomach because of it and as though every eye was on her, she slid her own hand into the palm of Hinata’s.

Hinata’s hand was soft and felt like a perfect match to her own. With that token of acceptance, Hinata’s face split into a grin. She practically raced to drag Eriko onto the dancefloor and though Eriko did drag behind her, she was glad to finally be up and on it.

In the dark. In the strobing lights that flashed every which way in quick, laser-like successions of every colour of the rainbow. It was disorienting and at their feet, there was a mist from a smoke machine off to the side that was hazy and ticklist. The dance floor, which was a basketball court by day, pounded with everyone’s dancing shoes and the good time that they were having.

So, in the end, Hinata was right. Everyone was dancing with each other, with everyone else. She would blend in. There was too much going on as the music blared and the crowd roared for one person to simply be the main focus.

Hinata laughed and Eriko squealed as Hinata spun her around. Together, they jingled and they jangled with all their accessories as they danced. Chiyu and Nodoka danced to the side of them, close enough to hide but far away enough that Eriko was comfortable to say she was dancing exclusively with her girlfriend. The song on the speaker changed soon enough and Hinata’s eyes lit up in the dark.

“Oh my gosh,” she squealed, “it's our song.”

“It is, too.” Eriko replied, just as excited and even loud.

The music was familiar and saccharine. Eriko’s heart pounded and in a messy, moshpit duet, she and Hinata yelled out the words to the song as their hands intertwined and they spun and twirled and danced among the crowd, bumping into people but not apologising because they were just so off in their own little world. It was the absolute best, Eriko was grinning.

Deep down, though, beneath the roar of the music and the pace of the dance and the fizz of euphoria of finally getting to enjoy herself, Eriko knew that dancing with Hinata didn’t make anything else not scary. Whether it was about being on a date with her girlfriend publicly or coming out to her parents or any other number of things which weren’t important to this moment in time, right now… It was the most fun that Eriko had had all night and she had a rising feeling that it was only going to go up from here, finally.

#femslash #femslashfeb2023 #femslash february 2023 #healin good precure #healin good pretty cure #healin good #eriko saito #saito eriko #precure #hiramitsu hinata #hinata hiramitsu #cure sparkle #writing tag #(I'm not) scared of dancing in the dark #the irony of choosing the dark prompt with a light associated precure is not lost on me #do they have blue light discos in japan? no clue #edit: apparently i've been misremembering eriko's name slightly wrong this whole time oopsies

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karofsky · 2 years

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actually one of the funniest things about IBIATCL is that so many people (past me included) were like omg Kurt is soooo hot and sexy and amazing. Which, granted, he is, but if there's one thing I really connect to now, it's like... Kurt's a huge fucking dork. Like the man doesn't exude sex. He's awkward and clunky and dweeby, but he's so god damn charming about it that a lot of his attractiveness comes from that. He's so real and I love that for him. Like sure I will be the first to sit here and watch him do stage combat all day because his athleticism and how calculative and focused and determined is also hot as shit, but I love that he's usually just some nerd who isn't afraid to dance like an idiot because he's just having fun and doing what he loves. Kurt Hummel I do not wish to marry anyone but for you I will make an exception

#hs me and hs kurt would kill each other but adult me and adult kurt?#💍?#granted we would need to have some WORDS about things but #i would have such a crush on him fr #perhaps that is self centered considering we're so much alike sometimes LMAO #sorry babes it's the intj and gemini we're bound to have a weird twin thing going on

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petriquors · 3 years

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— written in starlight (suna x gn!reader | enemies-to-lovers)

❤ pairing !! college!suna x gn!reader

❤ trope !! enemies-to-lovers

❤ requested by !! @charlie-jay

❤ word count !! 1.2k

❤ author notes !! charlie!! thank you so much for this one; suna’s been sort of intimidating to write for so i’m thrilled to get a reason to play with him a bit. and honestly!! i’m really happy with this one (as sappy and dweeby as it is). i hc suna as an astronomy nerd who’s really good at art. this is also my favorite moodboard so far, so ❤

as you dig through your bag to find your notes on the upcoming test that you really, desperately, need to pass, you realize something that makes your heart sink:

this notebook isn’t yours.

its edges are nearly destroyed, its spine is barely hanging on, and some of the pages are bent and torn in ways that suggest its real owner has a love-hate relationship with whatever they keep inside. it also has a few ultra-nerdy stickers on it, which definitely aren’t yours.

naturally, your curiosity wins you over. flipping open the cover, you hope that this person has the notes you need and you can cram off of them before returning it after the test tomorrow.

from the front cover to where the writing stops about two-thirds of the way in, the notebook is full of moody art and angsty poetry, not notes on brain chemistry. brow furrowed, you stop to read a recent entry, powerless to curb your morbid interest in whatever this mysterious person has going on in their head.

planets and stars locked in a dance

tied together, but fated to be apart

because when they collide

they will both, always, die.

but people want what hurts them

and all i want is for you to pull me in.

before you stop yourself, your pen is already moving across the page to add, off to the side, away from the words encircling a sketch of a person’s back set against a black-and-white planet.

sorry i grabbed your notebook by mistake! i hope you find a way to tell your star how you feel.

you know you left the notebook at the front of the room during the exam. you placed it there, walked back to your desk, and dutifully took your midterm.

but, since the thing currently sits on top of your bag, and you didn’t notice someone put it there, you shamefully realize that you aren’t as stealthy or as attentive as you thought.

“embarrassing,” you mumble, grabbing the notebook with the intention of putting it back up front – maybe someone thought you put it there by mistake and was returning it.

then, you notice the sticky note waving at you from the top of a middle page; that wasn’t there this morning.

what do you think of this? is all the note says, but underneath is a short verse written on top of a quick, shaded sketch of a night sky.

if we are all made from the same thing as stars

then yours was the brightest,

and it became even brighter

when it turned into you.

even you blush at that despite knowing that it isn’t for you. biting back your smile, you grab your pen to respond:

this is lovely. i hope they know how lucky they are when they read it.

and, excited for your pen-pal, you leave the notebook where you hope it’ll be found.

you decide to come to class extra early to see if you could, as covertly as possible, figure out whose notebook you’ve been writing in, deeply invested in this person’s confession to the one they like.

and then suna rintaro, the guy who sits behind you and never says anything unless it’s admonishing your “stupid questions” or the fact that you “try too hard” is the second person to show up for class. you internally sigh; having him there means he might see you meet the notebook’s owner, which would definitely result in teasing for you. when he lays his hand on the notebook as if he’s about to take it, your body reacts before your brain, and you’re at the front of the room, fury and fear in your eyes.

“why are you taking that notebook?” you accuse, hands already flailing to swipe it from him.

his nose wrinkles into a disgusting grimace as he holds it behind his back, stepping away from you. “why would you care?”

you suck in a breath. if you were just a little faster, just a little taller, you might actually be able to pry it out of his hands and high-tail it out of the room before he knows what happened.

no, you rationalize, no one could do that.

but, you also know that you can’t just tell him that you’ve been exchanging romantic advice with some stranger in your class. the absolute last thing you want to give him is another reason to bully you after half of a semester of enduring his snide comments behind you.

“well?”

“because it’s not yours!”

“that so?” with an ice-cold stare, he raises a petulant eyebrow at you before flipping the notebook open – something that makes your heart jump into your throat – and grabbing a pen to write.

people want what hurts them

and all i want is for you to pull me in.

your heart crashes to the pit of your stomach when you see that the handwriting is identical. all you manage to do is stare, wide-eyed and dumbfounded, while suna rintaro brushes past you, his notebook under his arm and your fantasy destroyed.

you can’t bring yourself to watch as he leaves. he’s the one who ruined the one thing that you looked forward to every day, so you hate him even more than you did when all he was to you was a jerk in your psychology class.

but now, he’s a jerk in your psychology class who stole your joy, crushed your dreams, and writes really nice poetry.

you can’t decide if you hate him or yourself more.

the sense of dread when you walk into class the next morning and find the notebook with a new sticky note in front of your seat is palpable. you consider throwing it away, or even throwing it at him, but, when you don’t see him in the room, you decide to humor yourself if only for the sake of the last shred of romanticism whispering in your heart.

your breath catches when you open the notebook. thick, black lines glide over the page, each stroke curling into the next until a visage that makes your face heat up forms right before your eyes.

it’s the sketch of a person in front of a planet, but, this time, the focus is on their side profile instead of their back, and the obvious hits you. the sketch is of you from the angle where rintaro sits behind you in class, and the faint glow surrounding you illuminates the planet, now colored in with bright blues and purples.

your light colors my sky

if the few times we met didn’t hurt so much

or if a collision didn’t scare you

“maybe you wouldn’t be pushed away,” a quiet voice finishes as you read, dumbfounded. rintaro towers over you, looking away with red ears and nervous eyes. you didn’t notice him come in.

he clears his throat and starts to take the notebook back, mumbling something like an apology, but your grab his wrist to stop him.

“maybe,” you say, surprising yourself while the ice-cold wave of realized feelings washes over you, “stars are just alone so long, that they don’t know what to do when a planet shows up.”

eyes flicking up and down between his wrist and your face, rintaro’s lips form a thin line, and you think it’s over – because planets and stars rarely, if ever, meet. but then, he twists his hand to curl his fingers around yours, and you think that, maybe, it’s only just beginning.

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titan-fodder · 2 years

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Smothered (Yamagishi x Reader)

Pairing: Kazushi Yamagishi x Reader

Count: 4.8k

Warnings: female bodied reader, alcohol, femdom, sub!Yamagishi, explicit sexual content, yams is inexperienced, oral (male receiving) face-sitting, orgasm denial, cock rings, overstimulation, use of "mommy" "good boy" and "baby boy", upper echelon timeskip

A/N: this is a Secret Santa gift for @whats-her-quirk who probably already peeped it when I just posted it accidentally. One day I will write the fic I originally promised, but today is not that day, and until then we can saturate this platform with our underrated kings.

p.s. I can't do italics 'cause I'm on my phone and without my laptop and I just do not have it in me to read/edit this a third time. But know... I feel so lost without them.

p.p.s. I love you.

Lights are flashing, bass is pumping, yet you find yourself sitting still in a booth. It feels a little wrong in such a lively atmosphere, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't glad to be off your feet. Besides, you're surrounded by friends, and you'd prefer that to dancing any day.

Makoto is spread out like he owns the damn place while Akkun, the actual club owner, is on another plush cushion, pretty girl straddling his lap and unable to keep her hands off him. Takemichi is attempting to hold a conversation with Takuya and Kazushi while Hina whispers who knows what in his ear. And, you just watch it all, chatting half-heartedly and people-watching.

Person-watching. The solitary figure at the end of the booth, to be specific. Kazushi still has sunglasses on despite being inside, but the strobe lights are bright enough to maybe justify them. You can see the scar bisecting his left eyebrow peeking out from over one of the dark lenses, and you have to make a conscious effort not to lick your lips.

You want him. You've wanted him for a while.

According to his friends he's changed substantially over the last several years, once a dweeby, obnoxious little know-it-all. He comes off as almost the complete opposite now—rugged, dangerous, carries a gun everywhere he goes. He's a gang member for fuck's sake—one of high status. People rely on him. People respect him. People count on him to get shit done.

Only one trait remains from his former personality apparently, a rumor you've only heard from Takemichi and Hina but one you believe.

According to them, Kazushi still remains inexperienced. In the bedroom.

"I don't think he's a virgin," Hinata had told you weeks ago, tongue loose just like her muscles due to all the alcohol she had imbibed that night. "He just hasn't gotten to… explore."

"But, why?" You'd asked, going as far as to mutter, "He's hot," with a little smirk.

Ever since then you've been interested. Some might even say fixated.

Too often you think about pushing the fur-lined jacket from his shoulders, of shoving him on a bed. Toss his glasses somewhere, fist a hand in his long hair—

The fantasies haunt you these days, frustrating you to the point where you've had to get yourself off to the thought of him.

It's getting a little out of hand. You're distracted any time you're in the same room as him, and just to prove this point, you suddenly find a small hand in front of your face, snapping to get your attention.

"Hm—what?" you ask after releasing your bottom lip from between your lips. You've been worrying it while, naturally, staring at Kazushi.

Kazushi who is… staring back. He's usually not ballsy enough for that.

You blink at him a few times, feeling your face heat, then break eye contact to look at Hina.

"You okay over there?" she giggles. "Have a little too much to drink?"

You've had two cocktails. Barely even buzzed.

"Just lost in thought," you tell her over the music.

She smirks, gaze flicking to Kazushi for a moment before replying, "I bet you are."

You narrow your eyes at her, but all she does is stick her tongue out and return to Takemichi.

The lot of you stay tucked in the corner, chatting and drinking the night away until an unsavory crew walks in and Akkun sighs.

"My cue," he says just loud enough for everyone to hear before detangling himself from the girl in his lap.

All of you watch as he saunters away, eventually meeting up with a sharply dressed blond and a couple of thugs.

"Well, you guys wanna take this somewhere else?" Hinata asks, seeming a little put out from the absence of your host.

You shrug, as does everyone else, then scoot your way out of the booth. Honestly, it's what Akkun would want anyway, always concerned with keeping his friends safe from these particular dealings.

"You gonna come, babe?" Makoto asks the girl you barely know.

She seems surprised by the invitation but shakes her head with a smile. "No. I think I'm just gonna head upstairs and wait. Thanks, though."

"Suit yourself."

Making your way to the door, you elbow Makoto, snorting as you ask, "What was that about? We don't even know her name."

"Don't need to know a name to get lucky. Figure if Akkun can pull a bitch like that I can too." He straightens the collar of his jacket then winks at you. "After all, I'm hotter."

"In your damn dreams," you laugh.

Takemichi and Hinata have the largest apartment now, high in the ranks and what-not, so of course, you all find yourselves there.

As you sit on all the fancy couches arranged in a nice, wide circle, each of you drinking more and giggling, you get the feeling that someone is about to suggest something stupid like truth-or-dare—

"When's the last time you guys played Never Never Have I Ever?"

"Pft, probably when I was twelve when it was actually acceptable."

"I dunno," she muses, "Think it'd be a lot more interesting now that we all have more experience."

You don't miss the way Kazushi just barely sinks lower in his seat.

You suppose… it could be fun.

"I'm in," you give in with a wave of your hand. "Not like we have anything better to do."

"You do realize that we're the big guys in Toman, right? Part of the upper echelon?" Makoto sneers.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"We're important. We're—"

"Obviously scared," you say with a click of your tongue.

"Yeah, don't want us finding out about any of your secrets," Hina adds.

"I don't like this," he gestures nebulously toward the two of you. "This whole… girl gang bullshit."

"'Cause you know you won't win."

Takuya finally pipes up, possibly for the first time all night. "Makoto's never been able to say no to a pretty girl, much less two of them."

"Traitor," Makoto hisses.

Takuya is unfazed. "Sounds like it could be entertaining. Why not?"

"So, you're in. That makes three against two!"

"Four," Takemichi says, nuzzling into her ear. "You know I'll do anything you ask, baby."

Despite joining your cause, you can't help but dry heave. It's probably just because Hina and Takemichi have been into freaky shit lately, and he wants to show off.

"Everyone remember the rules?"

"Well enough."

And, so it begins.

Typically, there are a few warm-up confessions before the sex comes up, but none of you seem to have a problem of diving right in tonight as Hinata announces, "Never have I ever had a threesome."

Makoto and Takuya both take a drink.

"Never have I ever had a foursome," Makoto says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"Is a foursome considered an orgy or group sex?" Takemichi questions as Takuya is the only one to drink. It makes sense. He's very pretty.

"No idea. Never have I ever shot someone," you add in on your turn.

All the men drink, and you aren't even a little bit surprised.

"Never have I ever fucked a complete stranger."

"Never have I ever done anything sexual in public."

"Never have I ever had a sexual injury."

Hina giggles, and you look at her. "What, is that a lie?"

"Scratch marks don't count," Takemichi elaborates. "Neither do bruises."

"Whatever you say, honey. Never have I ever killed someone."

"Jesus, Hina!"

"That escalated quickly." You glance around, taking note of Takemichi, Makoto, and Yamagishi all drinking, the last of which being… a little unexpected.

"Never have I ever fucked a minor."

Makoto drinks, and both you and Hinata let out a worried, "Ummm," in unison.

"She told me she was eighteen! I don't check fucking IDs," he defends. "And, apparently, neither do the bouncers at Akkun's 'cause that's where I fucking found her."

"Gross."

"Yeah, I'm, uh, not proud of that one," Makoto cringes while rubbing the back of his neck.

It goes on like this for a while, steadily getting dirtier and more shameful. Facials and creampies and nudes that should have been deleted. Amateur porn videos, voyeurism, and then Kazushi mumbling a somewhat tame (in comparison, at least), "Never have I ever come from a blowjob."

"What?"

"Excuse me?"

"Who the fuck you been foolin' around with?"

And, as his friends interrogate him, you throw one of your legs over the other and try to ignore the throbbing between them.

You could get him off. You know you could.

Suddenly, you're wondering what it would be like to kneel between his legs, take him into your mouth, touch all the right places to make him squirm and moan. Sometimes the most inexperienced are the most fun, and oh, you could have fun with Kazushi.

You could always… ask him… if he'd want you to. Offer to please him this way. With just the right amount of booze in your system, you might even be bold enough to do it tonight.

If he says no, he says no, and you can live with that. Never speak of it again.

But, considering the way his eyes have lingered on you for the entirety of this juvenile game, you think that maybe—just maybe—he'll take you up on the offer.

So, another hour later, once all of you are leaving the apartment and getting on separate trains, you're thankful for the fact that Kazushi has to take the same one as you. You sit in the seat next to him. He presses his thigh against yours. And, though neither of you have anything to say, you quickly realize that you both have expectations.

He's been thinking about it just like you.

How very convenient.

It means you don't have to ask him to get off at your stop, means all you have to do is look up at him with doe eyes and a little smirk before he's murmuring a frankly pathetic, "Please," outside your door, so desperate and contradictory of his appearance.

"Mm, absolutely," you grin at him, batting your eyelashes. "Was so hoping you'd ask."

His hands are on your hips as you unlock your door, and you can't even wait as you shove him against the wood to close it. You keep eye contact as you slide down his body, able to see his Adam's apple move with a thick swallow.

You aren't sure when the last time was that you wanted someone this bad, that you were so eager for someone.

But, Kazushi is just so—so—well, he's Kazushi. He's just… something. Different. Wicked smart, a tactician, a bodyguard, someone to be feared like the rest of them.

And, you're unbuckling his belt, pulling his thick cock free, and putting him in possibly the most vulnerable position a man can be in.

You have the power here. Even if his gun is still weighing down the waist of his jeans, you're the one in charge.

Kazushi has a nice cock, not that you really expected anything less. It's fat and heavy—warm, feels good in your hand and even better between your lips as you suckle at his head.

"F-fuck, just don't—don't feel bad if I can't—"

You pull back and stare (almost glare) up at him, trying to muster all the confidence you have and telling him, "Oh, I'm gonna make you come. Don't you worry about that."

He shudders, lets his head fall against the door with a thunk.

You tongue at his slit for a moment, enjoying the way he jerks, then move to take more of him, bobbing slowly and wetting his cock for an easier glide. He's a little too long for you to fit all of him, so what you can't reach, you curl your hand around, jacking him off in time with your mouth.

It isn't like you're an expert, but you've given your fair share of blow jobs over the years. You've definitely picked up some tips and tricks, paid attention to reactions and certain noises.

You're looking for those now, the long hisses, the low groans, the way Kazushi's knees shake, and the way his rough hand finds your hair.

A fair amount of pre is dripping from him and onto your tongue, a little salty, but all it does is make you want to lap at his tip.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck—"

You press your tongue to the underside of his cock, right where his head flares outward, and the fingers on your head tighten just as he thrusts his hips forward. You pull back in time to keep him from gagging you then return to your rhythm.

Kazushi keeps swearing, keeps gasping with every move you make, and you have to wonder if you're that good or if he's just sensitive. He obviously hasn't had decent head in a while now, so it could very easily be the latter.

His cock is twitching in your mouth, and as soon as you reach up and squeeze his balls, he's choking out a garbled, "Oh, god, I'm—" before strings of cum are shooting down your throat.

Your lips curve upward around him, probably looking like the cat that got the cream (almost literally), and you make sure to keep sucking as you pull off of his cock, making Kazushi whimper and rock his hips clumsily.

Out of breath, his head lolls forward so he can look at you with slow roving eyes and a lazy smile.

"Holy shit."

You use his jacket to pull yourself up to your feet, then wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Now, you've gotta think of something else to use for that stupid game."

"Yeah," he laughs, "Guess so."

You're a little surprised when he brings you in for a kiss, figure he probably isn't used to the taste of his own cum, but he doesn't seem to mind as he pushes his tongue into your mouth.

"That was… kind of awesome," he mutters between kisses.

"Just kind of?"

"Fine. It was pretty mindblowing."

You have to fight a devious smile, the kind that's made men shiver before.

"You don't know the definition of mindblowing, baby boy."

He blinks at you. Smacks his lips. Then casually tells you, "I am dangerously aroused by that."

"As you should be."

"That mean I get to return the favor?"

Nibbling on your lip, you think about it. You could definitely go for an orgasm, can feel the slick that's gathered in your panties. Plus, he's a good kisser, so that tongue paired with the bit of facial hair he has—that would probably feel divine.

However, there is something you'd like more than an orgasm right now, and it's to keep Kazushi wondering.

Wondering what else you're capable of. Wondering what else you could do to him. Wondering about all the ways you could get him off.

Yes, that's infinitely preferable, and it's not like you can't just schedule a date with your vibrator later tonight.

"Tempting but… another time," you sigh. "It's getting late anyway."

"But—"

You put a hand on his chest, splay your fingers so that you can feel his heartbeat and his pecs.

"I'll be fine, so for now just think of me when you jerk off or something."

"I'll think about you for the rest of my life. Got me smitten now. Weak at the knees—"

You shove him so that he stumbled against the door again, snickering and teasing, "Dork. That's all it takes?"

He shrugs. "I'm easy."

"Obviously."

You shoo him off with a sloppy kiss, a little afraid that if you spend more time with him, you'll start getting all loose-lipped and admitting to having a crush on him. How embarrassing.

Feelings for a dangerous fucking gang member. Ridiculous. Almost as ridiculous as him letting you seduce him or whatever that was.

Questionable decisions on both your parts. And, even more to come.

xxx

Kazushi thinks he might be addicted to your pussy.

Things have progressed smoothly since that first night—oh god, that first night—but a lot of that probably has to do with keeping everything on the down low.

Kazushi tells you it's to keep you safe. You say you don't want to have to deal with Hina and Takemichi which is valid. It works out well for the both of you.

Though you haven't talked about it out loud, Kazushi has a feeling you know that he's lacking in the bedroom area. It's mostly by choice—he can come on a little strong—but it also has a bit to do with growing up as an irritating nerd who was made fun of and cast to the side and straight up tortured from time to time. That'll do a number on anyone's self-esteem.

He's healed mostly, but when it comes to women, he still has some trouble. Either talking too much out of nervousness or not enough out of self-preservation. He can't seem to find a balance.

With you, though, things are easier. Mostly because there isn't much talking, not until after anyway, when you're both blissed out and unguarded.

You're also giving him a chance to explore a little more, both himself and you. Things he likes, things he wants to learn more about, things he wants to do and let you do.

It's… surprising. Kazushi spent most of his adolescence and adult life fantasizing about all the ways he could touch a girl, but it turns out—

"Good boy," you moan in his ear, grinding against his cock from your perch on top of him. "You're being so good for me, Kazushi."

He wants to come. Wants it so bad. But, you told him not to, to hold back until you give him permission.

It's just… The way you're moving over him, the way his cock—rock fucking hard—is sliding between your wet folds over and over again in possibly the lewdest sex act he's ever partaken in.

He's been so much deeper before, fucked into you until you can't think straight anymore, but something about this seems so dirty, the shit he dreamed about as a horny teenager. The way you're drenching him in slick and moaning every time his drooling tip hits your clit. Kazushi thinks you might be able to come from this, and he probably could too, but you told him not to, god dammit.

There's also something he'd rather do to get you to climax. You haven't let him taste you yet, and he doesn't know why. What he does know is that he wants it so bad.

The last time he asked you'd told him, "I like things a certain way, baby boy." (That drives him absolutely crazy, makes him whine, lose his mind). "I don't know if you're prepared for it just yet."

"Please, please," he huffs when you curve yourself over him.

You nip at his bottom lip and hum, "What is it?"

"Let me—I wanna go down on you, you've done s-so much for me, and—"

You straighten up but keep gyrating as you hold a finger to your face as if you're in thought.

"Maybe," you smirk, grabbing his hand from your chest and squeezing. "If you ask nicely."

"I s-said please," he pants.

"Please what?"

His eyes roll to the back of his head as you grind down onto his cock, your lips parting around him and soaking him.

"Please, mommy," he groans.

That's something he hadn't known about himself until the other night, but god dammit does it make his dick twitch.

"Hmm. I don't know if I'm quite convinced."

Kazushi doesn't understand how you can act so unfazed, all but riding him and looking like you're doing some mundane activity instead.

"Mommy, please," he tries again. If you don't move from him soon, he will absolutely come. "Please, please, fuck, mommy, please."

"There we go, that's more like it."

You swing a leg over him to dismount, then, to Kazushi's surprise, tell him to get comfortable if he isn't already. He frowns but still grabs a pillow to stuff under his head, rolling his shoulders to loosen up, not that oral is particularly taxing for him, not the way giving head to a guy is, he imagines.

Kazushi is curious though because the only way he's pleasured a woman like this has been when he's between their legs, fingers digging into their thighs, so why the fuck is he still on his back?

"Has a girl ever ridden your face before, Kazu?"

His eyes widen, and he nearly comes on the spot, has to reach down and squeeze the base of his cock.

"Uh, no."

You pout. "Shame," then prance to your nightstand and pull something from it.

Kazushi's stomach flips when you show him the silicone ring and smirk. "To keep you from breaking your promise."

Fuck, you're gonna kill him. You will be the death of him. Not a shoot out. Not a drug deal gone wrong. It'll be you.

He lets out a little, "Hah," as you carefully push the lubed up cockring down his shaft, instructing him to pull his balls through the second ring, and the squeeze is maddening and beautiful, and it makes him fist himself a few times.

"You think you're ready?" you question, all sing-song and knowing.

"So ready. Wanna taste your pussy so bad, mommy."

You don't hesitate in kneeling on the bed by his head, bracing a hand on the mattress then positioning your knees close to his ears. Still, you don't lower yourself, hovering just above Kazushi so that he can admire the view, craning his neck to lick you, and the gasp you let out is so, so satisfying, he needs to hear it again.

So, Kazushi, feeling a little emboldened, reaches up to grip your thighs and pull you down to him.

"Oh—"

Before you can move, Kazushi has his fingers wrapped around you, kneading flesh as he shoves his tongue into your clenching hole as deep as he can.

You taste even better than he imagined, tangy and sweet and you, and Kazushi wants more.

"Let me know if you need air," you tell him in an airy voice.

He moves his head enough to run his chin up your slit then tells you, "I would literally rather die."

Then, he has his whole face buried in you again. He sucks and slurps, shakes his head, wriggles his tongue. You slowly relax on top of him, the weight of you bearing down until you're sitting fully.

Kazushi groans, opening his mouth wider to taste more of you, more of you, all of you, please—

"Fuck, baby, good boy, good boy," you moan, your hand fisting in Kazushi's hair as you begin to rock back and forth, and now he gets it—face riding. You taking exactly what you want from him, making his nose bump against your clit, making coarse hair rub over your sopping hole, making him melt and let you do whatever you want.

He'll gladly suffocate if it means he can keep hearing you moan his name. Death by pussy. The best way to go.

"You feel so good, baby, did you know that?"

He lets out a pathetic groan, fingers digging into your skin a little harder.

"So good for mommy. I'm so proud of you."

Kazushi can feel his cock straining upward, his balls tightening, but it won't come of anything. He's absolutely throbbing and ready to pop, feels like he's already dripping cum, but he's not because you won't let him.

He's rutting up into the air as if it'll help, and the motion of it must get your attention because you twist around to watch, laughing in a condescending way before cooing, "Are you ready to come?"

He nods straight into your cunt, and you reach behind yourself to squeeze his cock, making Kazushi's toes curl and tears prick his eyes.

"You wanna come like this, or you wanna come in my pussy?"

He's still gripping you tightly, holding you to his face as he licks into you, nails scratching down your thighs and begging silently because he doesn't care how he comes, he just wants to—needs to.

"Need you to sit tight just a little longer 'cause I'm getting close, okay?"

Well, now he wants it even more. You're close. He's getting you close. The idea of you coming all over his face—fuck, it's too much, too much. He thinks he might be crying at this point, tongue-fucking you then sucking on your clit, tongue-fucking, suck, tongue-fucking, suck.

Your legs start to shake around his head, and your hold on his hair tightens, using his fucking head for leverage as you rock your hips, sliding back and forth from his chin to his nose and making Kazushi a sticky mess as you cry out his name and climax.

It's the hottest thing he's ever experienced, so much so that his captive balls fight against the silicone around them before they begin to empty.

He thinks he might tear his throat the way he screams, his own orgasm shaking him to his core. Line after line after line of cum shoots from his oversensitive cock, and he's never felt anything like it—intense enough to make his whole body shake, and fuck, it doesn't stop, leaking cum until it nearly hurts, and he basically sobs, "Mommy."

"Baby boy coming so hard, hm?"

His heels dig into the mattress, hips still moving up and down, and Kazushi shouts when your hand wraps around his cock again.

"Fuck!"

"So messy," you giggle, and he can hear the grin in your voice.

He's a whimpering, trembling mess as you push yourself off of him and slither down to lay beside him, hand on his chest to feel his thumping heart.

When he finally musters the energy, Kazushi lifts his head to stare down at the mess on his stomach, in awe at the fact he was even able to make it considering the way his cock is basically trapped. But, feeling you come on his face, tasting it and dripping with it… it makes sense.

"Once you feel like you can walk we can take a shower," you tell him, nuzzling against his arm.

"That might take a while," he replies breathily, still twitching every now and again.

Your hand is on his wet face, tracing the scar that runs through his eyebrow as you stare at him and sigh.

"What?" he prompts.

"Nothing. I just like you is all."

A lazy smile spreads across his face, his body now tingling in more ways than one as he pulls you a little closer against him.

"I like you, too."

xxx

It happens when you're at Akkun's club again, the regular group all at the bar, chatting and laughing and flirting like you always do.

Everyone has some kind of idea about you and Kazushi, either you're fucking or dating or something, and that doesn't bother you. It means you can be a little more open with him, sit in his lap, rub a hand down his chest, etc., etc.

But, there's still some details you're both holding back. For good reason.

And, this is why your jaw drops when Kazushi asks, "Want another drink, mommy?" like it's natural. Like it's habit.

You suppose it is. It's how he addresses you in the privacy of your respective apartments, but Jesus Christ, you didn't think it would be second nature for him.

"Um…" you blink, face heating, chill running down your spine because then Kazushi realizes what he's just let slip out, and he glances around the group to find them all staring in shock.

"I'm sorry, what?" Makoto is naturally the first to speak, no surprise there.

Akkun is chuckling, arm around his flavor of the week (month?) as he adds an unhelpful and possibly stoned, "What the fuuuck," that earns him a light slap on the chest then a whisper in his ear that makes him shrug.

"Okay, let's not pretend this is some taboo shit or something," you wave them off. "Hina, I don't know why you're so amused 'cause I'm willing to bet money that Takemichi's called you mommy before."

"I—" she starts, holding a finger up before deflating, "Okay, there was that one time…"

"Yeah, that's what I thought. You can all act like this is something gross, but I know better. Buncha pervs."

There's a myriad of laughs, both you and Kazushi joining in, and then you all retreat to your usual booth to keep doing exactly what you were doing at the bar.

"So, uh," Kazushi starts after lighting a cigarette then slinging an arm around you. "When do you guys wanna play Never Have I Ever again?"

It makes everyone lose it all over again.

Kazushi isn't the same almost-virgin he was just a few weeks ago, and he wants to prove it.

You can take credit for that.

#kazushi yamagishi x reader #yamagishi x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev fanfiction #tw fem dom #or whatever #cw mommy kink

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