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murdrdocs · 1 day

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spinnin' out waiting

description. you find TASHI DONALDSON at a hotel bar. you fall back into a version of your old self, a version that values tashi's opinion as much as you value the taste of her lips.

includes. SMUT 18+ MDNI, infidelity, 69ing, exes (again!), crazy amounts of longing, one mention of pegging, couple mentions of patrick and art, unnamed husband to r

wc. 4.2k+

a/n: art creds unknown. title from satellite by harry styles. barely edited as of 06/10

“Why'd you marry him?”

Tashi's words are soft, they’re inquisitive. They don’t seem accusatory, blending easily with the melody of the Bowie tune playing throughout the hotel lobby.

You hear her. You understand her over the clatter of glasses against table tops and shoes clicking against tile floors. You know exactly what she’s asking you. You have an answer, but beginning to act on the defense, you take your time formulating another one.

Here, at a hotel bar, you won't tell Tashi the real reason why you married your husband. You won't lay it all out for her to take, chew up, and spit right back at you.

You take a sip of your drink, ignoring how unfavored it is now that it's watered down, and you only speak once it's sitting back on the counter.

“Why did you?”

It's lame, nothing but a cop-out, but verbally, you aren't trying to impress Tashi right now. Right now, you're taking what you can, pathetically just trying to exist in her space for longer even if it means deflecting her words onto her.

Physically, you’re trying to draw her in, attempting to impress her. It’s obvious in the way you’re sitting—shoulders pushed far back until there’s a pinch between your shoulder blades, your legs crossed at the ankles and your thighs squeezed together. You’re the picture of perfection, even holding your face in a way that you think Tashi will admire.

Tashi takes the bait.

She shrugs, sighs, and dives into a calculated answer. “He's smart. Good at tennis.”

You think she means the words, or she had meant them at one time, but now they’re emotionless. They’re facts, not declarations of love. Her face doesn’t brighten like it should when talking about why you married your husband.

You nod your head, rocking a little in your seat on the stool. Tashi has always been strategic, you aren't shocked that she doesn't mention her love for her husband in her admission.

She looks at you, eyes briefly taking down your body in a gesture so quick that you aren’t sure if it was intentional or not. You watch her lips part.

“You were too.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “I was what?”

“Good at tennis.” Again, she says it so simply, so clear cut. To most, it would be. To most, it would be nothing but a fact, a compliment, even.

With Tashi, it's something different. There is an admission in itself woven in her words. One you’ve waited to hear for years, one you only heard once before years ago. If you were weaker, still playing for her attention, maybe, then you would’ve let the admission draw you back to your coach who declared there would always be a place for you. Now, you only dip your head, watching your fingernail tap against your glass.

“I'm out, Tashi. I'm done.”

The back and forth comes quickly. “You didn't have to be. You quit.”

“I retired.”

“You quit.”

You didn't expect the conversation to go this way, but you should have. You know Tashi. You may even know her better than you know your own husband. Perhaps she knows you better than your husband does. It's a thought you don't want to consider for longer than you need to.

You take your glass in your hand and finish your drink off. You don't bother ordering another. You won't be here for much longer.

You don't know how the exit will be, if you'll be alone, or if Tashi will be in tow. But you can sense its approach.

“Why did you marry him?" She asks you again.

This time, you give an answer. It comes quick and simple. "Safety." What you don’t say is because I couldn’t marry you.

You watch Tashi react. The corner of her lips lifts just a bit and she gets that look in her eye. The one that tells you that she has just found something out, a piece to add to the puzzle that makes up you.

She hums and you know she wants to say something. You want to hear it, but the words are likely to piss you off. They would ruin the small sense of harmony that exists in this space, and that's something you don't want.

So you let Tashi judge you. You sit there under her scrutinizing gaze and then when she's done, you watch her gaze soften.

“You had a few more in you."

It's tennis talk, but it's comforting.

“I watched your matches, you could've done a few more. A couple more years maybe. Wimbledon was always your strong suit I think you could've won it next year. Maybe Australia, too. France is a little rough on you, you move slower. But if yo—” You can't stand to hear it any longer.

You push your chair out from under you, standing over her. And for once, Tashi stops speaking. She's stunned, her dark eyes staring up at yours. Her lips stay parted, her unfinished words sitting stunted inside of her mouth. Her lips look so nice, and you try not to focus on that, but it seems like it's all you can focus on through the blurry sight.

Your eyes burn, your nose stings. You're about to cry, and for what? Because Tashi is telling you that you're better than you thought? Truthfully, it's words you've been hearing for a while. Everyone has told you as such. But hearing it from her is different. It's like the words from God himself.

It should be embarrassing, how joyous you feel to have her attention on you once more. How delighted you are that Tashi Duncan—Tashi Donaldson is finally giving you the time of day again. It should be embarrassing, and maybe it would be if you weren’t so intently focused on keeping your tears at bay.

Nearly a decade and a half later, you’re still worshiping at her altar.

Patrick all those years ago was right. You’re no better than Art. You don’t think you wanted to be.

You stand with intentions to leave. Grab your bag, you tell yourself. Go upstairs to your room and to your husband.

But Tashi is looking at you. She's looking at you with kindness beneath her lined eyes. On the surface, it's unnoticeable. Maybe it's not there at all and you're just deluding yourself. But you think that under there, buried down beneath everything she uses to keep herself strong and above everyone else, is kindness. Towards you. Towards the situation. Towards herself.

“St back down,” she tells you.

You stay standing.

Tashi's hand reaches for yours. Her left hand crosses her body, resting on your left hand. You glance down, noticing the way your respective rings glint in the moody lighting. When you blink, a tear falls. You try to wipe it away before Tashi can notice it.

"Sit back down," She speaks slowly this time and it seems like a plea. So you sit back down.

Your pants are touching the cushion of the bar stool for only a few seconds before Tashi leans forward. There isn't necessarily hesitance towards her movements, but she moves slowly. It's as if she's giving you an out.

But there's no way you could want an out for the thing you've wanted for years. Finally, she's giving you an in, even if the circumstances existing outside of this bubble make the situation inappropriate.

But when you close the gap, you don't feel guilty. Because you had her first. Before any of the boys came into your lives, it was you and Tashi.

And here, and now, it’s you and Tashi. Art, Patrick, and your husband don’t exist at this moment past the rings on your fingers and lingering chastising. Physically, in this space, it’s you and Tashi.

Her hand falls to your thigh. Your hand slides up to the side of her neck.

She scoots her stool closer to yours and your back arches as you push yourself closer into her. A blast of AC brings her perfume to your awareness. She smells the same as before, a gentle vanilla, but there’s a new maturity to it. The scent is stronger, without being overpowering. It’s aged, with a deeper heat to it.

It’s alluring.

When you pull away from her, you’re shocked to feel her lips chase yours. She kisses you, once, twice, and then she’s only stopped by your hands cupping her cheeks.

You stare at Tashi. She stares at you, big brown eyes lined with smudged makeup. She should look intimidating, like how she appears in the stands. But she looks innocent, almost.

“Tashi.”

Her eyebrows furrow. It’s nice to see worry on her face when it’s directed at you. You like it when she cares about you.

“What? What is it?”

“Tashi, we shouldn’t.”

Her eyebrows relax and her face morphs into something else. Disappointment? It’s a look that makes your throat sting.

You’re close to taking your warning back, but you instead let it suspend in the air. You lick your lips, your grip on Tashi’s cheeks relaxing as you prepare to retreat. Your purse sits on the counter, and in it is your keycard to your hotel room. It would be easy to grab your things and slip back into your room for a quick shower before sliding into bed. But that’s not what you want.

You want to see where this goes.

If she’ll let you.

You expect Tashi’s body to relax away from you, but it doesn’t.

She stands, her hands resting on your thighs as she stares down at you.

“Why shouldn’t we?”

You have answers, many of them. Two of them sit just a few floors above you both, waiting for either of you to crawl back into bed and resume the role of the loving, supportive wife.

You could give her reasons, but you don’t. Instead, you lamely stare up at Tashi, your best friend.

It’s a title she hasn’t been the owner of for years, but you still find it easy to give it to her now. You’ll extend it for her to forever hold, an honor she doesn’t have to want for you to bestow upon her.

You’ll let Tashi Donaldson be whatever she wants to be, so long as she’s in your life.

Maybe that’s why you don’t resist at all when she leans down and presses her lips to yours.

You kiss her with vigor you’ve never kissed your husband with. Vigor that could have never existed with him, because you’ve been burying it deep down inside just for her. It’s a build-up of all the times you cheered her on for a date. All the times you listened to her tell you about her endeavors and pushed down the images of you two in the described positions. The tears you hid with steamy showers and bottles of wine when you heard about her wedding from the tabloids and not an invitation.

It all comes together as slides of your lips against hers. Full-forced presses of your tongues together. Wandering hands roaming through expensive hairdos and along even more expensive clothing items.

You’re in public, sitting at a hotel bar, but you couldn’t care less. Even if it weren’t late at night, if the lobby were bustling with late check-outs and early check-ins, you don’t think you would care. Absolutely nothing could pull you from Tashi’s embrace. You convince yourself this when you stand to your full height, pressing your chest against Tashi’s.

She turns you until your lower back digs into the edge of the counter. One of her hands cups your face and you can feel the bracelet on her wrist dig into your arm as she rests the other on the counter behind you. You hold her close with two hands on her slender waist, pressing into the thick fabric of her cardigan.

You need to feel more of her. Her clothing is in the way. You need to feel her skin on yours in ways you had almost been privy to in college when tailored pants and overpriced sweaters were replaced by Victoria’s Secret pajama sets and Stanford sweatshirts.

You do what you can in this public space, lifting the hem of her cardigan and pressing your hands into her torso beneath it. She’s wearing a shirt, but it’s cropped just enough for you to feel her taut abdomen. She’s soft, just like you expected her to be.

You melt against her when you circle your hands around her back and feel even more of her skin.

Eventually, Tashi pulls away. She doesn’t go far, pecking your neck and clavicle even as she struggles to catch her breath. You’re about to ask her where. You can’t let Tashi fuck you in a hotel bar, even if you would’ve let it happen if it weren’t so morally wrong, and you’re about to ask her where she could fuck you.

The words are formed on your tongue, sitting right on the tip, waiting. And then the elevator dings. You don’t care immediately. You forget yourself. You forget that you’re in public, pressed against a hotel bar with onlookers just a few feet away. They might not be looking at you, but you’ve had an audience this entire time. You could have another member joining the audience, too, if that elevator ding is who you think it is.

You forgot that you’re married, and not to her.

But the sound of the elevator, followed by an excited squeal of his name and then your name, the one he gave you, quickly reminds you.

You pull yourself off of Tashi completely. The only way to do that is to shove her away from you and even though you try to do it as gently as possible, it still hurts both of you. But it does the job. Tashi stands in front of you instead of against you.

You try your best to collect yourself. Wiping over and around your mouth, fixing your top, righting the position of your ring on your finger, and doing the same for your necklaces. You clear your throat, awkwardly step around Tashi, and then you look at her.

You look at her, really look at her in case you won’t get the chance to again, and then you turn yourselves around, grab your purse, and just look at her.

You wait for him to come this way. You wait for the sound of his shoes against the laminate, the strong waft of his cologne, the deep rumble of his voice. You wait for him to pull you into his chest, press a kiss into your forehead, and sincerely tell you that he was looking for you. That he woke up to an empty bed and was worried sick. You wait for the guilt to settle in your gut like a rock. You wait for this energy to be disrupted for good.

When it doesn’t come, you don’t know what to do.

Tashi cocks her head, crosses her arms over her chest.

You can sense her wanting to ask you a question so you press your shoulders back and prepare yourself.

“Are you gonna go with him?”

You don’t answer. You lick your lips, flit through the array of bottles against the wall behind her, and listen for the sound of fans talking to your husband.

Tashi only continues. “He’ll only be distracted for so long before he comes looking for you, right? So, are you gonna go with him, or are you coming with me?”

You try to sit and consider it, juggling the thoughts in your head, but it’s nothing but a waste of time. Your decision has been made ever since she kissed you. It’s what you really want. But it’s what you cannot have.

So instead, you grab your purse, spare Tashi one final look, and walk away from her.

“What happened downstairs?”

You’re in the middle of brushing your teeth when he asks you. The action gives you time to consider. Consider the implications of his question. Consider the repercussions of the answer you’ll give him.

You’re done when you spit the first time, but you go back for another round of brushing to give yourself more time.

Your actions don’t deter your husband. He stands in the center of the entrance to the bathroom, blocking the exit with his hands in the pockets of his pants. You’d bought them for him for Christmas two years ago.

Eventually realizing you’re not escaping this, you spit, rinse, and wipe before turning to face your husband.

“Nothing happened.”

It’s true to you. You were in Tashi’s embrace last night, but nothing happened.

You look at your husband, watching him take your answer in. You’re preparing for further questioning, to be put under the white-hot light and spew out lie after lie in order to save your ass and your marriage. You don’t expect him to accept it so quickly.

“Okay.”

You can’t help but ask him, “Okay?”

He nods. “I’ll always believe you, you know that. Now come to bed before I start watching Scandal without you.”

You try to stay put in your room tonight. It’s empty, left alone while your husband attends an event you should’ve been at. But you were sick, riddled with sudden guilt that fostered in your body, creating stomach cramps, headaches, and heat flashes.

You needed to do something about it.

You tried to drink it away with warm tea. You tried to wash it away with a hot shower. You try to relax it away in the best ways you know how—room service and an old match of your husbands. But nothing you did helped. You still found yourself in an empty bed, tossing and turning and craving a companion that you shouldn’t crave.

You know the solution. She sits downstairs. You know she does. You don’t need visual confirmation.

But you get it anyway. Sitting in the same spot as yesterday, in the same cardigan as before. Her hair is pulled away from her face in a clip, but it’s still too short to stay pulled all the way back. Highlights frame her face, and short pieces of hair sit against the nape of her neck. Her head is down, staring straight at the bar where she has her hotel keycard in her hand, tapping the plastic edge against the marble.

She doesn’t have a drink. You figure she won’t stay for long.

When you approach her, she doesn’t look up. You don’t bother sitting.

“Come with me.”

When you say it, she doesn’t immediately respond. She doesn’t even acknowledge you until at least a minute later, but it could have easily been longer. She looks up at you and she looks like Tashi Duncan. With her hair framing her face messily, her eyes completely free of makeup and soft, she looks like your best friend. She also looks like she’s been crying, or maybe holding it off.

You want to ask her if she’s okay, but you know what her answer will be, so you save yourself time.

“Are you gonna leave me again?”

Her response punches you in the gut. It also riles you up.

You scoff and consider turning back around. You stand your ground long enough to say, “I guess we’re even then, right?”

Tashi doesn’t need further explanation. She backs down, you can see it happening physically. Her shoulders relax and her lips quirk down for a split second. It’s long enough for you to notice it happening, but then it’s gone. She’s stoic, neutral. It’s a practiced look. One she’s perfected by now.

“Are you coming?”

She takes a moment, she takes a breath, and then she stands.

You’re in your hotel room for long enough to hear the door click behind you, signaling that it’s locked, and then Tashi’s lips are on yours.

It’s unclear who moves first. Maybe you move in tandem, finally satisfied to be with each other in seclusion for the first time in years.

All that matters is that you’re leading Tashi towards the bedroom and your fallen clothing marks the trail. From the door to the bed lay her cardigan, tee shirt, pants, one of her shoes, your hoodie, your leggings, and both of your shoes.

You fall onto the bed and Tashi quickly follows you. She straddles you, long body curled up to hover over your form, reminiscent of a vulture.

She kisses you in the same manner as before, but there’s more haste to her lips this time.

She kisses you like she’s insatiable, taking more and more without taking a moment to see if what she already has is enough. You have a feeling that whatever she takes from you, whatever you give her, will never be enough.

It’s the same for you.

Finally getting to hear the sounds Tashi makes whenever you slip your hand between her thighs makes your head spin. It’s an addicting feeling similar to substances that produce the same effect, but this is much better. This is a version you’ll risk it all to have. The moans and gasps that Tashi releases when you press into her clit over the thin fabric of her panties are debilitating. It bruises you, only to build you right back up again.

You need more.

So you produce more.

You slip your hand beneath the waistband and let your fingertips meet Tashi’s bare cunt for the first time. She shudders, so sensitive, and she’s so fucking wet. The first touch flatters you. It comforts you to confirm that you’re having the same effect on her that she’s always had on you.

Even during times when you hadn’t seen her. During times when you relied on memory, getting yourself off in the shower. Or times when you caught a glimpse of her at a match that your husband was playing in, and you thought of her that night when your husband fucked you in honor of his win. Then, you’d been soaked beyond belief. Much like Tashi is now.

You don’t waste any more time, giving the suggestion to Tashi with a grin. Of course, she’s quick to accept.

You ask her if she’s been in this position since that time. She tells you she hasn’t, and she asks you the same. You say you haven’t, but you’ve been dreaming of it.

You end up face-to-face with Tashi’s cunt, and she is in the same position with yours. Both of you make quick work of the other, no longer in the mood for playing with your food, especially now since it’s sitting right in front of you.

You assume it’s been a while since Tashi’s been with a woman, but she hasn’t lost any of her skill at all. She devours you with enthusiasm, working her mouth in ways that have you momentarily distracted from your own task.

Until your competitive side kicks in. You refuse to let Tashi win, beginning to engage in a silent, but obvious, competition with her.

She quickly starts to become more verbal, even her moans sounding breathless. It’s an ego boost.

“Wish I … Wish I had the—” she breaks her words off to whine and it’s such a heavenly sound. “Wish I had the strap up here.”

You lay your head back away from her cunt to speak.

“You have it with you?” There’s humor to your words, and you break off into a laugh when Tashi responds.

“Art likes it.”

Tashi giggles with you, and as soon as the fit dies down, she lowers her head, you pull her hips closer to you, and you both get back to it.

The first time is over quicker than either of you anticipated. Tashi cums first, her back arching and her tongue stopping against your cunt. You, on the other hand, kept going. You licked and sucked and teased until Tashi was tapping against your thigh and begging that you stop. Then she continued, and it took barely anything to get you in the same position as her.

You both finished, but you weren’t done. It was hard to stay off of each other, and even when you did stop, you would take a break and find each other again. You hadn’t fucked that much since your honeymoon. In a way, you felt like you were on your honeymoon.

The clothes in the closet and the toiletries in the bathroom didn’t belong to Tashi, but you could pretend that they did. The ring on your finger wasn’t Tashi’s, but you pretended it was. You weren’t Tashi’s, but you pretended you were.

Up until your husband calls you.

The grogginess in your voice was real and he winced as he thought he woke you. He kept it brief, a quick warning that he was heading home and stopping by a place for food on the way. He sent you the menu, urging you to reply if you wanted something. And then he blew a kiss over the line and told you he loved you.

You repeated his actions without any hesitation.

When Tashi inevitably had to leave your hotel room, you kissed her cheek and told her you loved her without any hesitation.

#tashisworld!#tashi duncan x reader #tashi duncan x you #celeste writes challengers

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vxperorchist · 2 days

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Can I request, s/o ask for Intimidation act/ tips, (Cyno, Xiao, Tartaglia) they want to learn how to make a stone cold face/or a glare to scare of mens that won't leave them alone, but s/o failed miserably end up looking cute instead of intimidating.

Intimidation Act! (Cyno, Xiao, Tartaglia X Gn! Reader)

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of being harassed?

I love this request so much bro it's so cute

I saw it and I was like "oh absolutely"

AND I am so sorry this took forever to upload. I was kind of in a slump BUT I'm back!

Cyno

Cyno was quite literally known for his expression, he seemed so intimidating to those who didn't know him. Luckily for you, you knew him better than anyone, and you knew how easy it was to get past his stone cold expression.

"Hey Cyno, you're always told how intimidating you look. How do I look intimidating as well?" You asked, hovering around him in your shared house.

You slung your arms over his shoulders from behind, wrapping them around his chest.

He turned his head to you, he had never thought of how he actually managed to look intimidating, as it wasn't his intention. His eyes were blank with thought.

"I'm not sure, it comes naturally for me I suppose."

He admitted blandly, no help to you whatsoever. "My demeanor probably isn't desirable; people have deemed me unapproachable." He frowned, recalling his multiple instances of people being scared of him.

"Well General Mahamatra, I think people just need to get past that demeanor of yours to see how sweet you truly are, however, I want that intimidating demeanor."

He scoffed at the name you called him and your stubbornness for something so dumb, like being intimidating. "Just frown more." He suggested, but just doing that wouldn't make you scary, just mean looking.

"Oh! I'll lock eye contact too, it makes people nervous." You added, trying the method onto your boyfriend. You ended up keeping a straight face and staring at him in the eyes. It ended up making you more nervous then anything.

"Your eyes are too pretty to be scary." He commented, smiling at you as he was maintaining eye contact with you so easily, almost as if he was reading your every thought.

He stood there with his arms crosses, shoulders pulled back and head angled. You had made many observations on him, but it was hard to copy him without looking stupid.

He seemed so effortlessly good at it as the two of you stood there for a solid few seconds, staring each other down. You came out the loser in the silent intimidation battle, your cheeks warming as he watched your every move.

"Is there a reason as to why you're trying to copy me?" He asked genuinely, readjusting his posture to be much less intimidating.

"I don't know, the merchants around Caravan Ribat make me uncomfortable sometimes, I wish they were scared of me so they wouldn't talk to me." You looked up at him, knowing most people in the desert would avoid his gaze and presence.

"Do you have names? I can make sure they're taken care of and never look at you again." His demeanor shifted to that of your gentle boyfriend, to that of his duty as Mahamatra.

"I'll be okay." You laughed at his protectiveness. Dehya already had everything covered, and always had a protective eye over you.

"I'll make sure I go with you next time, if you can't scare them off, I most certainly will." He placed a light kiss to your forehead, ending off your night.

Xiao

Xiao in many ways, was utterly terrifying. Even you were admittedly scared of him when the two of you had first met. He knew how he acted, and he paid no mind to how people perceived him. The only opinion that really mattered to him was yours.

He noticed you had been acting different as of recently. He knew your every mannerism, he was amazingly observant, and could tell when something was off.

"You're underestimating Adepti if you think I can't tell when something is different about you. What is it?"

He was onto you. You weren't acting entirely different, but a slight shift into anything revolving around you would go noticed by your adeptus.

"Your interactions are changing. Why is that?" He asked blandly. You knew how he acted and how he felt were two different things. You could understand his concern, but he would never show it.

You were scared to mention what was actually troubling you as of recently. He waited patiently for a response as you hesitated to tell him what was going on.

"I've just been bothered by a few locals. They keep harassing me in a way and I tried to take after you, I asked myself what would you do, but you don't even get harassed! People are scared of you, so I tried to copy your mannerisms."

He wanted to smile at your confession, but he couldn't put aside the part you mentioned being harassed. He was naturally protective over you, and this had really sent him over the edge.

"Where are they?" He asked, keeping everything straight to the point. He didn't need to know anything more, and even if you didn't tell him, he would find out himself.

"Xiao, it's really fine." You tried arguing with him, but it was no use. You brushed his hand lightly, it didn't go unnoticed, but he had a goal.

The next morning, he returned to you, with acts of service being his love language, he came back with a new set of flowers set on your desk.

You were upset he disappeared last night, but he was a free spirit you couldn't control.

"What happened last night?" You asked him, scared of the answer you would receive.

"I dealt with the worthless individuals." He replied blunt as ever, standing in your doorframe.

"If you ever run into trouble like that, you're supposed to call my name." You sighed, you knew you should have, but didn't want to trouble him with something like that.

"Can you teach me how to be less approachable?"

"I'm not a teacher."

You had your answer, and he was stubborn.

If he wouldn't be your teacher, you would teach yourself. You kept copying his mannerisms, and he'd roll his eyes every time he caught you doing it.

He thought it was cute, but would never admit that to you, a mortal.

At the end of the day when the two of you came back to each other and you could let your guard down, he loved seeing your smile more than anything. It brought him light to the dark life he lived.

Childe

Tartaglia was both one of the least intimidating people you knew, and most. He had his moments he could turn up the heat, making his subordinates weak in the knees, but you also knew him as the sweet, gentle, boy he could also be.

He tried his best to hide his harbinger side from you, as that wasn't your burden to deal with, but it was a part of him you couldn't ignore.

You couldn't ignore the way some of his subordinates looked at you when you were around him while he was working. Their stares made you uncomfortable, and you could hear them whispering disturbing things under their breath.

They should have known much better then to talk about a harbingers partner, as they had worked out for absolutely no one.

Tartaglia was observant, but a little oblivious to the situation, and you had tried your best to ignore it as well. You tried the tactic of an RBF, which only worked a little bit.

"It's like you're taking after me, I see the way you look at my subordinates, I've never seen you look so intimidating!" He was just a little dense.

"They make me uncomfortable." You admitted finally, and he stopped dead in his tracks as the two of you were talking while sparring.

"What do you mean? Have they done something?" He put his bow away quickly and walked over to you, caught off guard by the new information.

"Its's nothing I can't handle; they've just been staring and what not."

"Who?" He asked, almost sounding like a demand. He caught himself before he got snappy, taking a deep inhale.

You giggled at his reaction, running a hand through his hair. "Like I said, nothing I couldn't handle."

"They're still alive, so they weren't handled." He removed your hand from his hair, kissing it as he released it.

"Point them out to me, and I'll keep them after training next time."

You knew he wouldn't hesitate to harm, or even kill someone for you, but would he do it to his own subordinate?

Long story short, the group that had made you uncomfortable were never seen again under Tartaglia's supervision.

A few weeks later, he had started subtly advising you on ways to intimidate someone. Between eye contact, posture, and manipulation, intimidation was one of the many things he had been trained on as a harbinger.

He'd watch as you had started to copy him, standing by his side standing as tall as you could, (even if you weren't very tall.)

He was proud of himself for teaching you so well, and proud of you for learning. You weren't very scary, but he knew he was, so regardless, people would be scared if they saw him by your side.

You'd exclaim to him excitedly when his subordinates would avoid your eye contact, but in reality, he had threatened them. He loved the way you'd light up, and if all he had to do was threatened his snotty subordinates, he'd do it a million times over.

#genshin impact #childe x reader #childe tartagalia #childe tartaglia ajax #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #xiao #cyno x reader #genshin cyno #cyno genshin impact #cyno #OrchistList

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habken · 11 hours

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Izuku and Katsuki Hospital Comic - Thoughts and Process

I wanted to talk about the process and my thoughts while making this comic! Cause it was A Lot of planning and I feel like talking about how I went about it could maybe be helpful for other people who wanna make comics too ?

Also I just like talking and I've had So Many thoughts about it over the last few months, I just need to get them all out lol

everything is under the cut (it's Very Long) ↓↓↓

Initial Thoughts

I started planning the comic in January, around the time the chapter with the second user's plan to transfer ofa to shigaraki came out. I remember feeling so anxious and sad seeing how devastated Deku was to lose the 'gift' that All Might had passed to him :'((

It made me start thinking about what it would be like to not only go from having all this insane power at your fingertips back to nothing, but also how it would feel to lose the vestiges, which had been his advisers, yapping in his ear and keeping him company for months. How it would feel to go from constantly having people looking over your shoulder back to silence.

Then I thought about what that would mean for his and Bakugou's relationship, which has developed so much over the series. How Bakugou would feel about Deku no longer having ofa, how the two of them would wrestle with old feelings now that Deku would be quirkless again. Bakugou having to face the kid he bullied and Deku going back to a state where the world saw him as "useless" with dreams too big for somebody without a quirk.

I feel like sometimes it's not really taken into account how Deku's past affects him in the present, and that goes for in the actual series as well. Considering he's the main character, it's funny that we never really get too much of a peak inside his mind lol, especially not recently, which is most likely intentional, but I digress.

What I really wanted to do for this comic was circle back to Deku's question to All Might at the start of the series, "can I become a hero without a quirk" because while yes, deku can be a hero, he had to get a quirk to do so. So what happens now that he no longer has it? After all of Bakugou and Deku's development, would Bakugou's opinion on deku pursuing his dreams while quirkless change?

I really didn't want that answer to be no. I didn't want to believe that Deku would have to give up and "be realistic" again, it just didn't feel right for that to be the answer after 400 chapters.

So I wanted to make something that would encapsulate those thoughts! And I felt like the best way to fully get that out was through a scene in the aftermath of the battle, the two of them in the hospital with nothing to do but talk about their feelings.

It was important to me that the doubts they both felt about the future were stomped out, and for there to be reassurance that things between them wouldn't snap back to how it was before UA. That Deku could still reach his dreams even if they did become harder to obtain.

I also felt like narratively it would be a good parallel if Bakugou were to lose something tied to his power too, and with his arm being so bad off in canon, I thought it made sense that there was a chance he could lose it forever.

So it's like they're both coming out of the final battle worse off with huge losses, but no matter what, they're going to fight to achieve their dreams, and they're going to do it side by side :')

At its core, it’s very self indulgent lmao, I didn’t think that we’d get something that sappy and gross in canon (😳) so I wanted to make something for myself :')

Planning

So then I made a first draft!

When I’m making bigger comics, thumbnails are super helpful! They help me see the full picture of what it could look like, and let me change things without putting in too much commitment. So most of the drawings are loose, but occasionally I’ll put in a little extra detail into things that I want to make sure are included in the final work.

There’s three main things I consider when thumbnailing for comics; expression, composition, and dialogue. Each of these things have a huge influence on each other, so keeping them all in mind when roughing out your drawings is important!

How it usually works is I play out the scene in my head like a movie and roughly come up with dialogue, then I draw characters and expressions based on that dialogue and the visions I had. Simultaneously I plan out approximately where those drawings will go/how much space they'll take up and finally, I add in the dialogue and move things around as needed so everything fits nice together.

Having the dialogue there in the draft lets me know around how big the speech bubbles are gonna be which is a massive help when figuring out paneling. It lets me plan around the bubbles and make sure nothing is too squished!

General tips:

Something I learnt from storyboarding is that establishing a setting for your scene at the start is really important! Most of my comics will start with a long shot or include one early on for this reason. It’s good for making sure readers aren’t confused on where everything is taking place!

Having a variety of shots is good for keeping your story engaging! This comic has a lot of closeups, but I tried to add variety where I could and used a lot of different angles to keep things entertaining even if there isn't that much going on

Final thoughts on this draft:

At this stage, the ending was really different from the final version I ended up with. It was a lot more focused on Bakugou's losses too and the vibe was kinda "well we're both nerfed now but that's chill we can still be heroes." I axed most of that cause I thought it was dumb and wasn’t really the conclusion I wanted lol

After the rough draft, I started sketching everything out and adding in panels based on the composition from the og thumbnails. I also changed the dialogue as I went, focusing on making it sound more natural and easy to read.

This is where the nuances in movement and expression became a bit more refined and speech bubbles where better planned out.

At this stage, establishing clarity and imagining how readers are going to move their eye along the page is really important. Comics are generally read left to right, but you can’t just assume people are going to automatically read it in the order you want, which is why panels and speech bubble locations are so important.

Tips:

A general rule is that along with going from left to right, speech bubbles should be in descending order. This can be broken a bit, but it’s important to remember that the rule is there in the first place for clarity's sake. So if you do plan on breaking it, make sure it's not at the sacrifice of legibility. The human eye is lazy and will jump to whatever seems most logical, so planning things out in a confusing manner is going to make your comic hard to read!

This is another thing I picked up from storyboarding, but keeping in mind the 180° rule is good for clarity as well! In the simplest of terms, if you have two characters in a scene, it’s good to keep character A on one side and character B on the other, and not switch those sides willy-nilly, otherwise it can get confusing. This isn't as important in comics as it is in film/television, but I still like keeping it in mind.

Final thoughts:

I hated the original ending but I couldn't exactly figure out how I wanted it to go, and I was too busy at that point to dedicate the time I needed towards it, so it stayed as these four panels for while :’)

During the period I stopped working on it, Deku lost his arms which had me panicking lmao, so much of the comic was devoted to his emotions and body language, specifically in his hands. I just went "am I gonna have to redo everything? Do I give him prosthetics?" and I was fully ready to rework the entire thing but Eri came in clutch for Deku (and me) <3

After Deku started getting hurt, I didn't really like the idea of him being discharged and sitting with a still injured Katsuki, and wanted it to be clear that they were both still in the hospital, so I had to axe poor Deku's "hospital gown" shirt for actual hospital garb </3

At some point during april-ish, I finally added in a new beginning and end, which took the comic from four pages to seven. I felt like the new parts added a lot more levity and humour which were needed, and I think it helped make Izuku and Katsuki feel closer than before.

For these pages, I skipped the thumbnail stage and jumped straight into full page stuff, which felt easier because they were kind of just add-ons.

Something I specifically liked were the first two panels in the last page. Fun fact, but a few days after I sketched those out, horikoshi released that art of to two of them smiling together and I went !! That's the vibe I wanted !! Me and Horikoshi are on the same wavelength! That was a good day lmao.

At this point, though, while new parts added a lot more to the story and brought it closer to the vibe I wanted, they also messed with the tone and overall pacing and it ended up feeling really off. Deku was now doing this weird 180 from being super sad and upset to then immediately joking around and goofing off with no acknowledgement of anything Katsuki was saying, which had been fine enough when it was just 4 panels, but very off-putting once I made the comic longer

...So I decided to add even more panels :')

I went back to my original ideas, and part of what I wanted to get across originally was the doubts about Izuku's future from here on out, and the worry that things would go back to how they were before he got ofa. I realized those initial things which had fueled the comic were no longer really part of it, and I wanted to change that.

When I thought up the idea of visuals surrounding their middle school selves, I felt so smart LMAO. I think it ended up being the thing that brought the entire comic together.

Izuku reverting back to that anxious, unconfident state, spiralling into himself, and mumbling out all his insecurities, including his fears about losing Katsuki's friendship (and yet still somehow more worried about Katsuki's feelings than his own). And in turn, Katsuki remembering and seeing Izuku as that kid again, and his own fears of becoming a bully once more.

It better explored what I wanted to originally get across and delved more into their feelings, so that the jokes and levity at the end felt like they were earned, rather than being a rapid shift in tone.

(The only other thing that changed was the some of the panels in the first page. I changed up the speech bubbles and got rid of a panel so it would be less cramped and easier to read.)

At this point, I was still having trouble figuring out how to tie everything in and segway pages 6-7 into the ending organically, so it sat like this for around a month.

Then chapter 423 released and the battle was over and I realized how little time I actually had to get the comic out. I knew that the next chapter could possibly make my entire comic obsolete, so I hauled ass :D

These were the final plans before I cleaned everything up! I changed around some of the panels to make the story flow better, I figured out how to tie everything in, and I finalized the dialogue!

At this point all the panelling was redone because I wanted more space in between them. Before, it felt really cramped and I think adding in more breathing room made it feel slightly less overwhelming for readers.

The biggest changes from the previous draft:

First, obviously, I finished the middle school stuff and figured out how to get from one part to the next. This was the hardest part of the planning, but I ended up deciding that Deku would spiral, Bakugou would kind of bring him out of that, they'd hug and then Bakugou would reassure him. I also included motifs relating to their childhood to be reminiscent of The Apology, and Katsuki's thoughts going back to them sharing the special All Might cards, them at the lake, etc. As if this was another healing moment for each part of them; their current selves, their MS selves, and their childhood selves too

I then changed some of the panels in the first page. I switched the direction of the diagonal line in the first few panels because I thought it made it more clear which way to start reading and made the comic flow better.

In the fourth page, I added a panel after Deku starts crying, because I felt like it worked better with the dialogue, and brought in more of Katsuki's POV into the story

The sixth page doesn't really look different, but there was a lot of resizing going on panel-wise. The bottom panel doesn't take up as much space and the panels up top are a little bigger

The final big change was the eighth page. I added in an extra panel and changed up a lot of expressions/dialogue so there was more of a natural transition between the heartfelt moments and the two goofing off

I then made some final changes and drawover notes before I started a week of cleanup and colouring!

Cleanup/Colouring Stage

Cleaning up my sketches usually just means duplicating the layer, putting the original layer at 5% opacity and.. cleaning it until it looks nice lol. It's the easiest way for me to work because I hate doing lineart.

This is what my sketch vs final usually looks like. The biggest change was adding in bandages into all the drawings lol.

For speech bubbles, I drew them all by hand, created a flat colour layer underneath in white, duplicated that and filled it in with black and shifted it with the transformation tool to make a drop shadow effect.

It took me two days to colour the whole thing :')

Usually when I colour, I work in a pretty painterly way, but I thought flats/cell shading would be a lot faster for this. I was right but it still took Very Long.

The smartest thing I did was put colour swatches of each colour I was using on a separate layer above everything else so I could easily use the eyedropper and get the right colour without having to reference them from another page. It was a big time saver!

I colour all on a single layer so I don't have progress photos to show, but for each drawing, I roughly added in all the colours in the approximate locations they'd be, and once I did that for every single panel, I went back and cleaned them up one by one.

And that's that! After colouring was done, I added my signature, posted it, and took the nap of the century.

Final, Final Thoughts

I worked... Very Hard to get the comic out before leaks night and even if it was just a few hours, I'm so glad I was able to do it cause when I saw the actual chapter I lost my mindddd

I feel like as the comic progressed, Katsuki's feelings took a backseat and if I was to redo it, I'd probably put a bit more emphasis on that than I did in the final version. I feel like his ~inner turmoil~ didn't fully come through the way I wanted it to. I didn't want it to be an immediate acceptance — I wanted the fact that he was struggling with his past to be evident too — but with the focus being so heavily on Izuku, Katsuki's inner thoughts get a bit lost which is too bad </3 Good thing is Horikoshi had the exact opposite idea as me, so it all worked out :D

I'm really proud of how the comic turned out, and I'm so happy to have gotten such a positive response to it! Thank you for reading if you got this far and thank you for reading my silly self-indulgent hospital comic :)

#bnha #art tips #bnha manga spoilers #long post

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shiro-s2e2-erukinzu · 2 days

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Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 99... You have been warned...! 👌

[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]

*Ahem...*

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! THIS CHAPTER!!!! 😱 AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

S-Sorry about that folks, but uh... There is A WHOLE LOT to talk about with this chapter, so uh, let's into it shall we...?! 😵 [Aggressive Thumb SHAKING] ((👍))

So, to start things off... What happened at the end of chapter 98 was apparently just a false alarm, but it still managed to end the the graduation party after everyone ran to the bunkers... So, Henry asked Martha about what she was going to tell him, and well...:

...She decided not to tell him the truth... 🥲

After this, Martha is seen crying her eyes out at her home...!! 😭 But after receiving a letter in the mail, she has a wonderful idea to write letters to Henry while she's away...!! 🥹

The first thing she writes to him is to see her off before she departs, but because the letter contained her exact location, these assholes "lovely gentleman" had to black out almost EVERYTHING MARTHA WROTE!! 😫 Which meant...:

...Henry didn't show up... 🥲🥲

(Why Endo...? Just, WHY....?! 💔)

But even after that mishap, Martha would continue to write to Henry, and he even wrote back to her...! 🥹 But eventually...:

Aw man... This image is just... It breaks my heart, man... 😔

Soon after that, Henry started to yearn to hear from Martha once again... But then, Martha and the rest of her group got some unexpected news...:

AND THE WORST PART IS THAT THEY CAN'T ACTUALLY DECLINE TO JOIN THE FRONT LINES BECAUSE THEY WOULD BE LABELED AS DESERTERS AND KILLED!!! 😡 (SUCH FUCKING BULLSHIT!!! FUCK WAR!!! 😠😠😠)

While the girls are panicking, Martha steps up and says that she'll fight...:

...And now Herny knows about it... 😞

Y'know... This chapter already had some crazy stuff in it... But nothing, AND I MEAN NOTHING, could've prepared me for THE VERY NEXT PAGE...!!!:

MOTHERFUCKING YOUNG DONOVAN DESMOND!!! 😵😵😵

AND BOY, LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHIN'...! When I read what he said at bottom, that "Human beings are simply liars"... The first thing that came to my mind was...:

...HE HAS TO BE A FREAKING TELEPATH JUST LIKE ANYA!!! 😱

I MEAN, it's the only thing that makes sense, why else WOULD HE SAY THAT...!?!? 😵 He also could've been raised that way by his parents, BUT I DON'T KNOW ABOUT THAT ONE CHIEF!!!!

My goodness... THIS PAGE HAS GOT ME LOOKIN' AND ACTIN' LIKE THIS:

Anyway, Young Donovan continues to speak about how as long as everyone hides their true intentions from each other, war can never truly end... And I just... I can't accept that...!!

Call me a dreamer, but I believe that we as people can make a difference if we speak up & fight back against ideals like Donovan's...!! I know that there is awfulness all around us and not everyone is in it for the betterment of others... BUT THAT'S WHY WE HAVE TO FIGHT BACK; THAT'S WHY TWILIGHT, YOR, ANYA, AND OTHERS IN THIS SERIES ARE FIGHTING FOR PEACE!!! So that we all can have a better tomorrow...!!! ✊

Anyway, back to chapter... And boy, it does not get better for Henry and Martha... 😔

After Martha writes a letter a telling Henry that she wishes that she could see him, it brings him tears and the only thing that he could muster to think of saying to her is "I wish I could see you too"... 💔 Then when going to mail another letter to Martha, Henry over hears on the radio...:

THIS PAGE IS JUST SO HEARTBREAKING!!! 💔

Later at an assembly, Martha's group was brought up as valiant for giving their lives for the cause, but Henry was having none of it:

...and then, they beat him up an locked him away...!! 😠 Then Henry's dad shows up and tells him that if he keeps this up, he'll never teach in another classroom again... And of course, Henry folds... 💔 AND I THINK THAT HENRY'S DAD NEEDS TO GET PUNCHED IN THE FACE!!! 😡

Time passes, Henry has a his famous monoclonal now (most likely due to be badly injured in his eye when those bastards beat him up) and is forced to marry someone for his family... Then, it cuts to place near the East-West border and...:

Martha's still alive, obviously, but WHO TOOK HER IN AND SAVED HER!?!? 🤔

Could it be someone from the Blackbell's, someone related to Twilight, Shopkeeper or McMahon...? I DON'T KNOW...!! But, we'll have wait and find out in CHAPTER 100 BABY!!! 😆

And that was Mission 99, and it was FANTASTIC AND HEARTBREAKING ALL AT THE SAME TIME!!! 💔🥲💔 This why we LET 👏 ENDO 👏 COOK!!! ��👏👏

But anyway, before I go....

SEASON 3 OF SPY × FAMILY WAS ANNOUNCED BABY!!! 😆

I am SOOOOOO EXCITED for this!! 😄 But when it releases, I'm not sure if I'll continue to do reviews of the episodes as they come out... Near the end of season 2, I got quite a bit burnt out from writing my anime reviews, so I never talked about the last 3 episodes of season 2... 😩 But, we'll see how I feel by the time when the anime returns...!! 😁

Okay, that's it now...!! 😄 So until the next Mission; take care, be safe out there and be kind to one another...!! BYE!!! 👋😁

#spy x family #sxf #spyxfamily #spy x family spoilers #sxf spoilers #spyxfamily spoilers #spy x family manga #sxf manga #spyxfamily manga #Mission 99 #henry henderson #martha marriott #donovan desmond #A YOUNG DONOVAN DESMOND!!! 😵#WE ARE ALMOST AT CHAPTER 100 BABY!! 😆#manga spoilers #Also...#SPY X FAMILY SEASON 3!!! 👏😆👏😆👏😆

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heradion · 2 days

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These feelings fester up inside

But how could I deny these butterflies (An off-screen Sterek ficlet)

In the dead of night, a sudden noise jolts Stiles awake as he sits up to notice the room empty and feeling warm. When he picked up the telephone, he realised there was no sound on the other end.

He slowly got up and stood up turning as the door to the room opened up and Derek entered with a candle in his hand.

"Hey , What happened?" Stiles asked as Derek walked closer the room being illuminated by just the moonlight and few streetlights right outside their window.

"There was a power outage, I went to check on it" Derek replied placing the candle down by the side table

"What was that noise?" Stiles asked as he walked over to the window opening it up to let some air in.

"A pole crashed onto the road, and the backup generator isn't working " Derek sighed taking off his shirt and pulling on a grey vest instead.

Stiles sat on the bed leaning against the bed frame while Derek opened the door the slightest bit to allow some ventilation before sitting on the other end of the bed across from Stiles.

As they sit in the dim light, the silence between them stretches, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension. Derek clears his throat, breaking the silence. "Guess we're in for a long night."

Stiles nods, trying to hide the nervousness in his voice "Yeah, seems like it."

For a moment, they sit in awkward silence, the only sound the flickering of the candle flame . But as the minutes pass, Derek begins to speak, his voice low and hesitant.

"So uhm..What have you been upto since I left?" He asked

Stiles sighed " Well..uhm...me and Scott had a falling out..of sorts because of a guy named Theo." He started before explaining everything that transpired while Derek was gone including the Wild Hunt taking him.

As Stiles continued to recount the events that transpired during Derek's absence, Derek listened intently, his brow furrowed with concern.

He watches Stiles carefully, his gaze unwavering as he absorbs every word.

When Stiles finishes speaking, a heavy silence descends upon them,

"Stiles, I'm sorry you had to go through all of that," Derek says, his voice filled with genuine concern. "It sounds like you've been through a lot."

Stiles offers a weak smile, grateful for Derek's understanding. "Yeah, it hasn't been easy, but that was one of the reasons I took up the FBI Internships...to take a break from Beacon Hills."

Derek nodded understanding what he meant." Beacon Hills is my home but it can feel like a lot" Derek stated

"I know what you mean." Stiles said "I..uhm..overheard my dad and Parrish talking 2 days back on call when he thought he ended the call about something happening back there."

"So you're thinking of going back?" Derek enquired a little concerned

Stiles hesitated for a second looking away "I don't know, I want to..for my dad and Scott..and the others too of course"

"But..I'm not .."Stiles's voice trailed off

"I know" Derek said as Stiles turned to look at him feeling a sense of warmth fill his chest knowing Derek understood

"Stiles, You've been through a lot,since the Nogitsune and all of this now..." Derek stated shifting closer " I don't want you to feel like you have to face it all alone. I know what that feels like..and it's..not easy."

"That's… really kind of you, Derek," Stiles said, his voice soft with gratitude. "Thank you."

Derek gave him a small smile before Stiles sat up "What were you upto? Going on new adventures with Braeden?"

Derek grinned looking away "No, I helped her with a mission before we parted ways. I was with Cora for a while before getting trapped in this mess trying to find a pack of hunters when Chris found me. And then Kate found us."

Stiles's mouth dropped open at the mention of Kate and nodded understanding why Derek didn't want to come back to Beacon Hills with Chris.

Stiles looked at Derek a little surprised at what he just heard before Derek continued "And then you ran into me."

"So I saved our ass." Stiles stated "Again."

"I guess you did" Derek replied rolling his eyes seemingly annoyed but the corner of his lips turned up when they were interrupted by the sound of thunder as it started to rain.

Stiles looked outside the window watching the rain fall before standing up and slowly limping towards the front door.

"I love the rain" He said leaning against the door frame opening the door a little more as Derek turned to face him.

"Yeah, me too" Derek said the two of them watching the rain pour outside

"Not when I'm driving though" Stiles pointed out turning behind

"No one does" Derek stated before they settled into a comfortable silence.

Derek looked over at Stiles noticing he was shivering before getting up to grab a sweater from him bag and walking over to him.

"Here" Derek said handing him a maroon sweater as Stiles took it looking confused.

"You're gonna get sick, you look like a homeless puppy out during the cold " Derek stated as Stiles thanked him before wearing it

Derek grinned leaning agasint the door frame opposite to Stiles looking at him wearing his sweater which was clearly too big for him.

"What?" Stiles asked crossing his arms

"Nothing" Derek replied amused as Stiles narrowed his eyes before looking out at the rain

Stiles rolled up the sleeve of his sweater on his right arm, feeling the cool droplets of rain against his skin.

With a mischievous grin, he reached over, cupping his hand to let the rainwater collect in his palm.

As Derek stood nearby, oblivious to Stiles' plan, Stiles couldn't resist the urge to try and annoy Derek. With a swift movement, he flicked his wrist, sending a spray of rainwater in Derek's direction.

Derek blinked in surprise as the droplets landed on his face and clothes, his expression shifting from confusion to amusement.

Before he could react, Stiles let out a laugh, the sound echoing through the quiet night.

"Stiles, I'm gonna kill you." Derek stated wiping the water from his face.

"You're lucky you're injured" Derek said raising his eyebrows wiping the water from his brows

"Or what?" Stiles teased raising his eyebrows " You would've ripped my throat out?"

Derek rolled his eyes pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek before looking at Stiles who had playful smirk on his face

" With your teeth?" He asked splashing him again

"Okay , That's it" Derek said running his hands through his hair before grabbing Stiles's wrists with one hand and letting some water gather in his palm before splashing Stiles as he protested

"I don't like getting wet" He protested as Derek splashed him 2 more times

"Derek, stop, oh my god, I'm going to kill you Hale!" He called out as Derek finally stopped letting him go

"Dude." Stiles said wiping his face "I have to take a shower again. In the dark that too"

"Your fault Stillinski" Derek shrugged smirking as he looked between Stiles's eyes and lips before heading inside as Stiles followed shortly behind.

(Part.1) / (Part.2) / (Part.3) /(Part.4) /(Part.5)

#sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #teen wolf #derek x stiles #stiles x derek #sterek fic #sterek fics #random drabbles

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toriangeli · 3 days

Text

2.05 thoughts

THE GROAN HAPPENED WITH JUST LOUIS AND DANIEL. WITH LOUIS GETTING PISSED OFF.

Armand relaying messages from Lestat to Louis like one of them is a hostage. Or both of them are.

Louis inadvertently ruining Daniel's life with the best of intentions.

I hope people get that Louis wouldn't have said that stuff to Armand if he wasn't high. He would have thought it, but he wouldn't have said it. Even Armand tries to cling to this, with "Here come the drugs" and trying to talk over Louis as he gets crueler and crueler.

Speaking of, I absolutely adore the balance we got with Louis and Armand both. We saw the ugliest sides of them both, but also some of their redeeming qualities. Armand is indeed, as Louis put it, "the gremlin or the good nurse," while we see Louis taking aim at some of the worst trauma it's possible to experience (things that are so hard for Armand to share in the first place) but also having great mercy for Daniel, the one innocent in all of this. While they fling each others' absolute worst traumas in each others' faces, to the point where one has to drag the other out of the sun, they somehow manage to scrape together enough control between them to spare the human.

Something I adore so much about Armand is the fact that his emotional dysregulation comes out in such an eerily tranquil manner. But don't be fooled. Just because he isn't shouting after that fight doesn't mean he's controlled. He won't even know he's dysregulated. Everything seems perfectly clear to him, viewed through the warped lens of his broken emotions.

I want to marry the entire "Am I boring/Teach me to be fascinating" thing because not only is it the most Devil's Minion shit we've had so far, it dips straight into Armand's entire "alien learning human behavior through observation and mimicry" vibe.

I was not convinced until this episode that Armand has meddled in Louis' Paris memories, mainly because the way some fans talked about it seemed to scapegoat Armand and attribute abilities with no limits or boundaries that didn't exist in the books. But they've kind of worked it in such a way where it has rules that make sense in-universe, as a combination of hypnosis and the spell gift, and I buy it. More than that, it seems like as soon as (a high) Louis has that memory (of Claudia not loving him), he hears her calling him and goes straight into the sun. Yeah, I think when Armand is banished from the table, when there's no one around to manage Louis' emotions as he confronts the darkest moments of his life, we're getting the Merrick ending. And I think when Armand is banished, since we've established he can find Lestat, he's going to tell him to go help Louis. And, no doubt, get pushed off a roof. Which. Fair. And if he's pushed from this tower, he and Lestat may actually venture closer to being even, unlike in TVL.

The vibrating eye effect was much better this time. They remembered to keep the catchlight steady while his eye moves.

"Armand, put me in the coffin!" Oh my god I think they are setting up a reveal about "Put me in my coffin, Louis" from Murdernight. Setting up that the coffin is the safest place for them to heal, shut away from even a hint of sunlight, to sleep for however long they need to. So I am more and more sure that Louis has been lying about who slit Lestat's throat for so long, and had so much paranoia about his mind being read, that he has come to believe it himself.

If Louis is being smart, he chose to stay with Armand so he could find out where Lestat is. If he's not being smart, it's nothing new. Louis makes his choices with his heart, like many of us do. We love him for that.

This is a true codependent relationship. One needs the other, the other needs to be needed. Assad is so right about it not being love, and Armand not even knowing what love would look like. Armand thinks love is serving, worshiping, a sacrifice of the self with nothing in return, no reciprocity. In reality, Armand doesn't think he can be loved, so he settles for being needed. And the cruelty a codependent is capable of when the person dependent on them spits in their face, the enabling, the self-hate--I really could write an entire lengthy meta about this, as someone who used to attend Codependents Anonymous (like Al-Anon, but for people who learned it outside of relationships with addicts). This is rather different from the books, where Armand's dependence on Marius was semi-inadvertently reinforced, but...considering the kind of emotional support Marius expected him to be at his age, multiply it by six times as long as the relationship lasted in the books, it makes a lot of sense this way.

Loumand. Is. So. They both wanted out in this incident. I absolutely believe Armand was going to leave--he left in the book over a far, far less horrible confrontation, and he looked crushed with just a hint of happiness when Louis wanted him to stay (god, Assad, you're so fucking good). Once again, wanting out, but he can't cut the cord himself. He's too weak to being wanted and/or needed. Louis, meanwhile...I think he made his offer partly to save Daniel, but there's also so much apathy.

Preview for next week. I'm surprised at how Louis is talking about Claudia, about her being a burden. And once again, I'm reluctant to fall back on the "it's Armand fucking with brains again" explanation because there's clearly a limit to what Armand will do with his power, or else he would just hypno-spell Louis into all sorts of shit. There is too much Louis knows and resents, the coven is too out of control, and there's too much defiance from Claudia for him to be using it enough to explain everything that makes me go "hm." I think part of the point in the turn Louis and Claudia's relationship has taken is that sometimes, our closest relationships go bad, and we don't always have a chance to make things right before we lose them for good.

I love all these messy bitches.

They are so setting us up for Marius.

Yes hugging Yarnmand helped.

#iwtv #amc iwtv #interview with the vampire #iwtv spoilers #iwtv amc #armand #louis de pointe du lac #daniel molloy #lestat de lioncourt

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slutshamethesquirrels · 19 hours

Text

Borrowed Clothing

gojo x fem!reader

length: 6.6k

cw: mild angst, that's p much it

A cutie little Gojo-centric one shot I wrote to cope with everything Gege has put us through, in which Gojo gets to borrow a really cool shirt (amongst other things).

“Gojo?”

He's still in his school uniform, black blindfold covering the upper half of his face, but you didn't need to see his eyes to know something was off. Typically, his posture was one of complete and total ease, loose and open shoulders with long arms falling wherever gravity held them, undoubtedly a habit from being virtually untouchable. The man before you, though, looked like if he got any tenser he’d simply cave in on himself. His usually plush bottom lip was chapped, as if he'd been chewing on it all evening, and there was a slight swell to his cheeks and nose- had he been crying?

“Did you mean it?” He asked, his voice falling out husky and cracked.

Your eyebrows furrow slightly in confusion, unsure of what exactly he means, so he clarifies:

“When you said if I wanted, I could, uhm-” He clears his throat and tosses a look over his shoulder, bouncing anxiously on his heels like he was a normal man on the run from something.

His words jog your memory.

You hadn't seen him in two weeks, but the last time he'd stopped by the diner you worked at he’d ended up convincing you to take your lunch break with him. You always thought he looked a little funny in there, with his high class attire and long gangly limbs fighting for more booth space than was physically possible for him to take up.

Despite his tendency to stand out, he’d been coming in for years. It started when he’d caught you using your water-based curse technique to clean tables faster. Over time the conversation slowly transitioned from trying to get you to join up with Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School to topics that ranged from the weather to the existence of god. You never knew what kind of question was gonna fall out of Gojo's mouth.

Frequently, the two of you discussed jujutsu society. He hated moral arguments and debates but had a love for the craft, though how could he not, being who he was?

It wasn't like Gojo to let you peak into his brain, though. Majority of what came out of his mouth was unhinged, sure, but distinctly detached from any sort of deeper subject matter. You weren't dumb, and you’d definitely caught onto the way he carefully danced around certain topics with jokes and sly subject changes. You got the feeling that he wanted someone to talk with, but didn't really know how to beyond surface level. Couple that with an obvious intellect (buried under a couple hundred fart jokes), and he made for a decent conversationalist.

“I feel like you're my friend, but I’m not really your friend.” You’d told him over the plates of food as the strings of your waitress belt dug into your sides.

“I would never be friends with a weakling like you.” His smirk was devious, bating you into a spat with him, which you’d fallen for, hook, line, and sinker.

“I'm not weak!” You scoff, but you weren't really offended. You played this game with him all the time, Gojo loved a good tease.

“You won't even join us at the school because all you can do with that shitty little curse technique is mop floors.”

There he was again, poking the bear and dancing around what he was actually trying to say. If you had to guess, what he really meant was something along the lines of:

”The fact that you have no interest in utilizing your curse technique disappoints me. You could be doing so much more than food service and I don't understand why you aren't developing your skill.”

So you do your best to communicate your answer to his actual intention:

“It's not a weakness to use a talent for mundane tasks, you dick. For your information, I can do a hell of a lot with my little technique.”

You poke your tongue out at him and he playfully knocks at your ankle under the table, a soft smirk playing on his lips as you continue:

“I mean, when you really think about it, your highness, am I weak because I refuse to use my technique for violence, or are you because you’re a slave to yours?”

You’d truly, honestly meant it as a casual lighthearted roast. The subject matter was serious, sure, but with time you'd come to know Gojo as the type of person you could joke about anything with. He sure had no problem laughing at your expense.

He tried to remain unbothered for the rest of the conversation, but you could tell he was rushing. For once, his laugh had seemed hard and forced. His demeanor had sunken from his typical egotistical borderline-mania into that of a shy theater kid attempting to play a bubbly and jovial character. Before he left, you tried to quell the flames on the bridge it seemed you were actively burning.

“Gojo, are you okay?” You asked as he fished a few bills out of his wallet and tossed them onto the table.

“Of course, why wouldn't I be?”

You wished you could see his eyes, really get a feel for what might be going on in that handsome little head of his.

“Did I hurt your feelings?” You insist, your bottom lip jutting out just slightly as you reach across the table to grab his hand. Just a foot or so away, your hand meets a sort of density in the air, stopping you from getting any closer, and your heart cracks a little. He hadn't used Infinity around you in so long.

“Please. Me? You're gonna have to try a lot harder than that if you wanna work me up.” He smiles, but it's not genuine. His nose always crinkled when he really smiled, it was something you noticed early on, one of your favorite little quirks of his.

Before he left, you'd written down your address and your phone number, and told him if he ever wanted to talk he was free to call or show up whenever.

Honestly, after those few weeks you assumed he was done talking to you. But here he was.

“Of course I meant it.” You nod with a soft smile, opening the door fully and stepping off to the side to allow him entry.

He shuffles past you, tension obvious in his gate with locked knees and his hands clenched in his pockets. You feel the density of his infinity as he passes you and make a mental note that he didn't come unguarded. If he didn't seem so volatile, you’d almost want to laugh at how comically large he looks standing in the living room between your ancient box tv and low set coffee table. He could easily reach up just a few inches above his head and flake off the little bits of plaster from your ancient popcorn ceiling.

Awkward tension settles for what feels like forever as he scopes out your living space. You can't imagine he's ever willingly allowed himself to associate with someone as… financially challenged as yourself. You did your best to make it homey, you really did, but it was hard when your ‘couch’ was actually a loveseat pulled from the side of the road on trash day, and all your wall art was thrifted.

“It smells good in here.” He finally breaks the silence, and you let out a breathless chuckle.

“I just threw some cookies in the oven, actually. I kind of thought for a second there you'd sniffed me out from all the way across town.” You attempt to loosen his demeanor, and he cracks a small grin, but it's tight lipped and forced.

“Did you, uh, wanna talk?” You prod, twisting your fingers nervously in front of you.

Immediately, his half hearted attempt at being humored by you is dropped. He chews on his cheek, one hand coming up behind him to paw at his scalp, the other staying firmly in his pocket as he thinks.

“Yeah,” He breathes “I just-”.

He fidgets uncomfortably, his head tilting as he seems to make eye contact with the ugly brown outdated wood paneling on your walls; you can't tell beneath the blindfold.

He clears his throat “I don't think I really know how.”.

“Okay. That's okay.” You draw a deep breath, nodding slowly and boring a hole into the carpet by his feet with slightly bewildered eyes as you attempt to formulate a plan for how to navigate the situation.

Eventually, you draw a deep breath, closing your eyes just briefly to re-ground yourself. When you reopened them, you stare directly into him, confident that you could do this.

“Tell you what, why don't you hop in the shower? I have some of my ex boyfriend's clothes that you can wear and by the time you get out the cookies should be done. Maybe after you're out of that uniform and have something on your stomach you'll feel a little better, yeah? We can circle back to the talking later.”

He cocks his head to the side, the ghost of his typical smug grin playing on his lips.

“You really think I'm gonna wear your ex's clothes? He obviously has no taste if he let a woman like you walk out.”

You roll your eyes and cock your hand against your hip, far too used to his flirty nature by this point and putting absolutely zero weight on his words. But you knew his games by this point, and felt fairly certain you could lead a horse to water. An intelligent, cocky, annoying, devilishly handsome, certifiably traumatized horse.

“You don't think you could make his sweatpants look good?”

He scoffs, much more comfortable teasing than directly approaching whatever it was that was eating at him, his shoulders loosening a bit.

“Babe, I could make rags look good.”

You let him help himself to your bathroom while you pillage around in your closet for your ex’s leftovers, hoping they'll suffice. He was a pretty tall guy, so you’re to too worried about that, but he was nowhere near as fit as Gojo, though you couldn't imagine anyone would be, what with the exorcism of curses constantly and all.

Eventually, you find a pair of gray sweatpants. Digging deeper into the box, you find a few t shirts. One is black with a gaudy band logo on the front in that heavy metal style lettering you could never make out, another has a rather… mysterious stain on the front, the other one was a gag gift you gave him several years back. Light pink, the front decorated with peace signs, hearts and smiley faces surrounding the words “alpha male” in bold white sparkly cursive lettering. You giggled and threw that one over your shoulder along with the sweatpants. You had a feeling Gojo would appreciate it far more than your ex had.

“Stop jackin’ it! I’m coming in!” You warn with a knock as you lean into the bathroom and place the outfit along with a towel on the counter.

“Damn, I was so close, too!” He sarcastically whines, and you're unsurprised to be able to see his eyes peeking at you overtop the shower curtain.

“How's the weather up there?” You ask, and he rolls his eyes with a scoff as you gather his uniform off the floor and leave to go throw it in the wash and check on the cookies.

You're just settling into one side of the tiny little loveseat when he emerges, looking much more relaxed, spinning his blindfold around one finger absentmindedly. You eye the t shirt, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from smirking at him, and it only somewhat works.

“I stand corrected-” He groans as he settles into the other side of the loveseat and kicks his bare feet up on the coffee table, his limbs taking up every inch of it with one arm flung all the way across the back and the other dangling lazily off the armrest, still holding his blindfold “-your ex must've fucking rocked. This shirt fucks-”.

You burst into laughter and toss your head back momentarily “I knew you'd like it!”.

You reach forward to hand him the plate of cookies, rolling your eyes incredulously as he immediately shoves one in his mouth and has to do that weird open-mouthed-blow-breathing around it because it's too hot.

“He actually never wore it.” You tell him, and his brow dips in suspicion as he chews “I got it as a gag gift for christmas and he didn't think it was very funny. He assumed I didn't get him an actual present as well.”.

He swallow's harshly, and then groans in overdramatized exaggeration as you reach for the remote “Well, it is an actual gift for me, because I’m keeping this shit.”.

“Who said you could have it?!” You tease as you flip the tv on, hoping the old DVD you were watching would be enough to placate him.

“I did, unless you wanna fight me for it.” His tone is suggestive, and you reach for a cookie, shaking your head and scrunching up your face to signal that it wasn't exactly worth your life.

“I’m gonna wear it under my uniform.” He tells you and you cover your mouth as you stifle a laugh through a mouthful of cookie “And after my students are done battling a tough ass curse in the middle of the city, I'll offer to take them to some fancy ass restaurant as a reward-”

“Gojo!” You protest, but you’re giggling, and so is he.

“The minute we get seated? I’m gonna be all ’Damn, it's hot in here! Is it hot in here to you guys?’ and then take my jacket off for the grand reveal.”

“Megumi is gonna murder you.” You tell him with a grin. You’d never met the kids, but you knew enough about them to pick up on the vibes. Gojo sometimes talked about them like a proud father, but more often than not like an annoying older brother.

“Yeah, yeah-” He waves his hand dismissively and snatches another cookie “Itadori will think it's funny, though.”.

The two of you eventually settle into silence as you eat, and you’re surprised to find that it's not uncomfortable. Gojo, for all his faults, was fun to be around, at least for you. It was just like your lunch breaks. Teasing, taunting, followed by comfortable silence. He carried with him a warmth that you couldn't quite explain, a certain aura of boyishness that made you fuzzy inside.

“You know,” You eventually break the silence “-sometimes I forget you're like, a god amongst men or whatever.”.

He tenses and sits up a little straighter. After his hair had dried he’d slipped his blindfold back on, and you absolutely despised that you couldn't read his eyes. You knew he wore it for logistical reasons, but sometimes you felt like it was just another barrier between him and the rest of the world. Him and you.

“Sorry.” You breathe when he doesn't respond.

He shakes his head and chuckles wryly “Don't be. It's not you, I just-”.

His hands tense and release repeatedly. He was always fidgeting in subtle ways, like he had more energy than he knew what to do with. You often wondered if he'd benefit from some sort of fidget toy.

“I don't see how you can separate me from it. My abilities, I mean. I don't see how anyone could ever separate me from it.”

Your eyebrows raise in concern, and attempting to display some modicum of validation without pushing, you nod, swallowing thickly. You couldn't understand him, couldn't say ‘I get it.’ because you both knew the truth; no one would ever truly get it. So instead you settle for “Okay.”.

“I don't even think I can separate me from it.”

He brings his hands out in front of him, turning them over and you wish, you want so badly to get into that brain of his.

“I think,” he sighs, dropping his hands and tipping his head back “You were right. The other week. I’m a slave to it. I've never been anything but a slave to it-”

“Gojo.” You breathe, and move the plate of cookies to the coffee table to slide closer to him “I didn't mean that for real, I was just joking, I swear-”.

“That doesn't make it any less true.” He argues immediately, and your heart sinks a little when you reach out to touch him and are stopped just a few inches short “My whole life, I've been the Six Eyes and Limitless combo. It's controlled absolutely everything about me from the very beginning.”.

A dam was breaking inside of him, and you could feel it. He was back to being just as tense as he was before, maybe even worse, and you wanted nothing more than to wrap him in your arms.

“You know Suguru? I told you about him, right?”

You nod. His half friend, half lover from highschool who had defected from Jujutsu Society and gone absolutely batshit. When Satoru told you about him, the conversation always started with a heartwarming or funny story and ended with a casual joke about Suguru turning into a genocidal maniac. You had the feeling the subject was sensitive, so you always just laughed.

“You know what he said to me before he left?”

You shake your head to confirm you didn't and he drew a deep shaky breath.

“He asked me ‘Are you the strongest because you're Satoru Gojo? Or are you Satoru Gojo because you're the strongest?’.”

Silence settles, tense and thick, and you bore holes into the ugly pattern of your couch, sitting on the opposite cushion with your hands folded in your lap.

“In the end,” His voice was raw, choking “I was only my abilities to him, too.”.

He sniffles and you lift your head. You can't see his eyes, but he hides his face in the crook of his arm anyway.

“Gojo, can I hold you? Please?” You damn near whisper.

He doesn't respond, but you feel the energy shift in the room, the air relaxing back into stasis. He had let his infinity down.

You crawl into his lap, straddling his thighs and pulling away the arm that was covering his face, wrapping it around your middle and allowing him to lean into your chest and cry in earnest. Your hands find purchase in his hair, scratching his scalp in soothing motions and then dipping under the neckline of his shirt to do the same between his shoulder blades. His hands grip at the back of your shirt for purchase, twisting the fabric there with force.

“I don't think that's what Suguru meant.” You offer, and he just squeezes you tighter.

“I think, what he was trying to get you to realize was that you have to find yourself beyond your strength. Beyond what you can do for the school or society.”

“Yeah?” It's quiet, muffled into the cloth of your shirt.

“Yeah.” You confirm, moving to cup his cheeks and pull his head back to look at you, which he allows “But also he was a crazy genocidal maniac, so-”.

At this, he laughs weakly, and you smile sympathetically.

“Some people clean diners with their curse technique, some slaughter villages, some have no sense of self beyond it-” Was his sarcastic half-attempt at a joke and you just roll your eyes and wrap him in a bear hug, squeezing him like you wanted him to melt right into your skin.

It feels like forever you just hold him like that.

“If it makes you feel better,” You mutter into the top of his hair “You've always been anything but your stupid curse technique to me.”.

He lifts himself from your chest, leaning back to look up at you “How so?”.

“Well,” you hum, thinking “When I think ’Gojo’ I think of the guy that harrasses me at work-”.

He chuckles, nodding.

“-I think of a devoted, albeit irritating by all accounts, mentor to some fairly kickass kids. I think of a handsome face and an infectious laugh-”

“Oh, now you're just stroking my ego.” He chides.

“No! I’m serious! Shut up for once, big mouth.” You scowl at him but there's no real fire behind it as he shrugs and interlocks his fingers behind his head. He’s trying to act nonchalant but you can see the tips of his ears turning red.

“I think of that one time you dropped by to see me, and you didn't know it but I had just broken up with my boyfriend that morning. I still had to work because I couldn't afford not to but all I wanted to do was stay in bed and cry like a little bitch. But then you showed up and all of a sudden it was bearable.”

He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, humming as his blush creeps from his ears all the way across the exposed portions of his cheeks.

“You mean a lot to me, Gojo.” You tell him, earnestly “And if you woke up tomorrow to find yourself stripped of every little bit of cursed energy- If you showed up at my door just a normal dude- nothing would change.”.

“You promise?” He asks, his voice small and hopeful, almost childlike.

“I swear, Gojo-”

“Satoru. Call me Satoru.”

“I swear, Satoru.”

And then he's pulling you into him by your collar, pressing his lips to yours. You kiss him back, unsurprised to find that he's just as amazing at kissing as he is at anything else. It's precise at first, methodical, slowly pushing boundaries as his hands move to the nape of your neck and his tongue glides across your lips. You grant him entry, feeling the world around you melt as he explores your mouth with his tongue like he couldn't get enough, like he was memorizing all the ways his tongue could slot against yours.

He sucks on your bottom lip, grunting and nipping at the flesh, causing you to gasp and rock against him. He hisses at the friction, his hands moving to your hips to push you down harder, forcing you to feel the way his cock grows harder with every stroke.

It would never, ever be enough to get you off but the fact that you were dry humping Satoru Gojo was enough to have you throwing your head back in search of air, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders as he licks a stripe from your collar bone to your chin.

“Fuck-” He spits, rocking you harder against his clothed erection “I think I have a praise kink. I've never been so horny in my whole life-”.

At this, you laugh, looking down at him with adoration.

“Yeah, buddy?” You tease and he squeezes your sides to reprimand the action “You want more?”.

His face turned a shade of brick you didn't think possible as he stuttered out a half chuckle “I-I don't- maybe?”.

“Maybe? Just maybe? You're awfully pretty but I'm gonna need a solid answer, Satoru~” You coo, testing the waters. His cock twitches beneath you and his breathing falters. He found his answer immediately.

“Yes, oh my god keep talking-” his whines, his hands fumbling erratically to get you out of your shirt.

“You're such a good boy.” You tell him as he pulls your bra off with a vengeance, like it owed him money “You make me so happy. You know why I haven't made a move on you yet, baby? I just didn't want to lose you, you're so-”.

You cut yourself off with a gasp and a whine as he pulled one of your nipples into his mouth, his other hand kneading your neglected breast with ferocity and desperation.

“Don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop.” His words are aggressive but his tone is high pitched and whiny, needy.

“You're so nice to look at, don't know what I’d do without that gorgeous face.” You look down at him and slide your thumbs along his temples, catching his blindfold and tossing it behind him carelessly “Wanna see your eyes, babe. You're too beautiful to hide from me.”.

He groans against your chest, his hand plunging into the soft material of your pants and immediately toying with your clit.

You couldn't believe this was actually happening. You’d always thought he was attractive, but that was just the thing. You and every other person with eyes. You hadn't allowed yourself to ever even toy with the idea of fooling around with Gojo because, well, he was Gojo. How had you ended up here, watching the pupils of his inhumanly gorgeous eyes blow wide and roll back in his head as he drew the world’s most perfectly timed circles on your clit?

“So good, Satoru. So fuckin’ good-” You keen, tugging back on the snowy silk of his hair to expose his throat to you, lapping at the skin there with as much adoration as you can muster. His fingers prod at your entrance and you experimentally suck hard against the sweet pale skin of his neck.

“Fuck, fuckfuck-” he sputters, sinking his pointer and index into you almost in reward to your action, curling and shifting until he hits that spongey spot that has you whimpering against his throat and rocking you hips in time to meet his movements “God damn, you're so tight. Can't wait to ruin it, baby. Just like I always wanted-”.

“You-” You jerk back to meet his gaze with a shocked expression “You thought about this before?”. He picks up pace, this speed brutal and almost too much and yet so, so delicious. Just like him.

He grins, devilish “Only every night since I first laid eyes on you. You have no idea how many times I’ve cum to the thought of you.”.

He's speaking over your mewls, delighting in the way your face twists and contorts with every thrust. Your indistinguishable sounds meld more and more into words until you're saying nothing but his name, over and over, and he feels your cunt fluttering around his fingers. Before you can cum, he withdraws, smirking like the cheeky little prick he is as you whine at the empty feeling.

“Satoru! I was gonna-!” He plugs your mouth with his soiled fingers, groaning as he swipes them back and forth over your tongue.

“What was that?” He asks tauntingly.

“I don't think I quite caught- ah, haha, fuck!” He giggles as you glare and bite down on his fingers in protest and he responds by shoving them in further, causing you to gag just a bit while his other hand dips below the band of his sweats, stroking himself in earnest. You get the hint and swirl your tongue along the length of his fingers in earnest, bobbing your head and moaning as if it were his cock poking at the back of your throat.

“Can't take it anymore, need you so bad-” He pants, withdrawing his fingers from your lips and bringing his hand around your head to pull you forward by your hair to kiss you, shuffling downwards until he's fully flat beneath you- well, almost. He's entirely too tall for your sad excuse of a sofa, one knee cocked awkwardly beneath you and the other dangling down onto the floor.

You giggle at him against his lips as he completely ignores what has got to be the most uncomfortable position in the world, pawing at your waistband desperately like he couldn't stand to see them on you for another second.

“C’mon, needy-” You tease as you lift yourself off of him, offering out your hand “Bedroom.”.

He looks like he wants to protest, but takes your hand anyway, playfully smacking your ass and causing you to yelp as you lead him down the short hallway to your bedroom.

“Aye!” You chastise and he just giggles like a little boy.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.” He sounds ridiculously satisfied with himself.

The minute you're over the threshold of the bedroom you go ahead and rid yourself of your bottoms, finding a sense of pride in the way he shamelessly eyes you over, swallowing thickly, red in the face.

“Mm? What is it, Satoru?” You purr, reaching up to pull his face down to meet your lips, sighing as he swirls his tongue against yours languidly.

“You're so pretty. So pretty.” He murmurs against your lips, and you smile against him. You knew there was a really sweet man underneath his teasing nature, and hearing it poke through has butterflies erupting in your belly.

Your kiss your way from his lips to his jaw, down his neck, nipping at his skin along the way until your kneeling in front up him, planting teasing kisses to the bulge in the front of his pants, loving the way his hands shake at the contact as they move to pet your hair.

“Y/n” He strains, and it sounds like a warning. His eyes are squeezed shut and his brow is furrowed, all his effort seemingly being used to restrain himself.

You hum in question, mischievously giggling as you tug at his sweatpants until they're pooling around his ankles, watching in awe as his cock springs free. He's huge, of course he's huge. He's Satoru Gojo. Your cunt clenches in anticipation, and you want nothing more than for him to rearrange your guts, but you sit on that feeling for the moment, unwilling to let the opportunity to get back at him for ruining your orgasm go to waste.

From there, you start at the inside of his knees, trailing sloppy kisses along the smooth inside of his thighs, and he lets out little pitchy whines in between breaths that tickle your ears and pet your pussy. You can feel your own arousal seeping down your bare legs, desperate for him.

“If you don't put my dick in your mouth, like, yesterday I am gonna loose my shit-” His eyes open, just barely as he watches you, sputtering out a low and throaty moan as you apply little kitten licks to his balls, bringing up one hand to thumb over the head of his cock and smear the precum leaking out of the tip across his frenulum.

“That so?” You murmur against the skin of his sack before pulling it into your mouth, stroking the top half of his dick at a tantalizing pace.

“Ah, holy shit-” He bucks into your hand, aching for more as your cheeky little giggle makes your lips vibrate against him “I’m s-so serious, y/n. You're playing with fire.”.

“I'll take my chances.” You smirk up at him.

“Don't.” He warns, his voice teasing but breathy, and then hisses as you drag the pointed tip of your tongue against the underside of his shaft, eyes full of mischief and ignoring him completely.

“Three.”

You raise your eyebrows in mocking question. Was he giving you a countdown?

You press your lips to the tip of his cock, pressing almost chaste kisses to the slit. He shudders.

“Two.”

You love the way he accidentally slips into sensei mode sometimes. It has you dripping. You want him to put you in your place.

You swirl your tongue around the tip and pump him once, twice-

“One.”

You look on your face was pure joy as you pushed your tongue out and flattened it against the underside of his cockhead, shaking your entire head back and forth teasingly.

“You're done.” He chuckles as the hands that had been loosely caressing your hair all of a sudden tangle hard in the locks and slam you down on his cock with reckless abandon, causing you to cough and gag around his girth.

The groan that escapes him is fucking music to your ears as he fucks your face with fervor, one hand coming down to rest under your jaw and feel himself poking at the tender muscle if your throat from the outside. You can't breathe, and you don't want to. You can't think, and you don't want to. In this moment, you only want to exist for him to use as he sees fit. As degrading as it is, as fucking disgusting as you feel with tears and drool streaming down your face, it turns you on to no end.

“Goddamn it, babe-” He grunts, pulling you off of him with a single fist in your hair, staring down at you with a heaving chest as he watches the strings of spit stretch and snap from his cock to your mouth in awe.

For a moment, all is silent, nothing but the sound of your mixed heavy breathing coating the room. And then your eyes wander from his face to his chest and you absolutely burst out laughing.

“Wha- Hello?” He starts giggling too when you snort, your forehead resting against his muscular thigh and your hands gripping his knee for some sort of purchase. You aren't sure if you're crying because you're laughing or because you just had approximately ten inches of cock crammed down your throat.

“I can't-” You wheeze, trying desperately to communicate “I can't take you seriously in that fuckin’ shirt!”.

He looks down with wide eyes and barks out a laugh “Dude, I totally forgot!”.

His hands find yours, pulling you to your feet as you both cackle, any dominant tension completely obliterated as you giggle into the fabric of that stupid fucking shirt.

He tips you back to press his lips to yours before muttering against you:

“You’re so fun. Get your goofy ass on this bed so I can fuck you stupid, dork.”

He didn't have to tell you twice.

Thankfully, he does remove the shirt before he goes to settle over top of you, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. He eyes you incredulously as you push on one side of his chest, guiding him to lay down flat on his back.

“You sure you can keep up with me?” He asks, impressed and a little playfully flummoxed at your bold decision.

“It's not that-” You take his hand and let him guide you, whimpering as you settle over his waist and his cock makes much needed contact with your clit “I just wanna take care of you, Satoru. Let someone else do the work for once.”.

He hisses as you rock the head of your clit against him, whining at the delicious friction for a few moments, killing two birds with one stone; giving you both pleasure and lubing him up with the steady stream of arousal that was seeping out of you. Deciding you’re ready, you lift up a bit, reaching underneath you to help guide the tip of his cock into your hole.

“Condoms?” He whimpers, something resembling common sense seeping through the lust filled haze.

“No need, unless you're not clean.” You grab his hand and guide him so he can feel the implant under your bicep.

He manages to throw you a look, full of faux-offense “Why would I be the one with the STD?”.

You just stare at him for a moment, your face all-knowing, until the two of you erupt into giggles again. You hoped he never matured. This version of him was your favorite.

He playfully smacks your ass “Hurry up, I wanna feel you- ah, ah fuck-”.

You sink down onto him slowly, watching his face fall open in pleasure with every inch deeper. Halfway down, his eyes roll back and his hands find purchase on your hips, willing you down a little quicker than you’re ready for but you allow it, too satisfying with the way he's blubbering beneath you, too satisfied with the stretch of him stuffing you to the absolute brim.

For a moment, you still, breathing heavy and bracing yourself against his abdomen with your palms as you struggle to adjust. You swore you could feel him in your throat.

“Y’okay?” He murmurs, his hands twitching at your sides, fighting his last shred of sanity as you nod and brace yourself to begin bouncing on his cock. His grip tightens on your waist and he says your name to grab your attention.

“Not yet, you'll tear something. Start like this-” He moves your hips with a vice grip, rocking you back and forth instead of up and down, every roll of your hips causing him to grind against your g-spot just right. It feels like lightning shooting through your core and you find yourself letting out little whimpers with every motion. Eventually he takes his hands off you and places them behind his head, alternating between watching with adoration in his eyes the place where your centers meet and the way your face scrunches in pleasure as you chase your high.

“That's it, baby.” He praises, breathless “Look at you, taking me so well. How's it feel, hm?”.

“So good, ‘Toru-” You keen as the pressure builds, and builds, and builds; fluttering you eyes closed and rocking faster, you miss the way his eyes sparkle at the new name. One of his hands reaches forward to thumb your clit in time with your movements and your pussy clenches around him in response, twitching and quivering around him as you dangle dangerously close to the edge.

“Oh my god, yes! ‘Toru- fuck- gonna cum, pleaseplease-!”

“Cum for me, baby-” His other hand reaches forward to push three fingers against your waist with a bit of force, just above your pubic bone and holy shit- Where'd he learn that trick?

The added pressure had your vision blurring white as you cried out a blended song of pleasure, collapsing into his chest as he groaned beneath you, his thumb still circling your clit as he helped you ride out your high.

You’ve barely had the time to collapse against his chest before he takes control from underneath, pounding into you with force. There's no pain save the overstimulation as the high of your previous orgasm never really ended, and all you can feel is him. He surrounds you, and invades you, bullying his tongue into your mouth with fervor, keening and whining with every thrust. He sounds so desperate. You're ears struggle to make out which sound is his and which is yours.

The overstimulation builds to a point you've yet to experience, tears pooling in your eyes and streaking down your face, shaken loose with the force of every thrust that rocks your body and smooths your brain.

“S-satoru-!” You cry out “Too much, please, it's too much-!”.

“Nonono-” He shushes you through pained and ragged breaths “I’m almost there baby just a little more. You can do that f’me, yeah? Be good, be good-”.

He thrusts become a little uneven as he shamelessly chases his own high, and you openly sob as he brings one hand to the nape of your neck and snakes one arm around the small of your back, pulling you entirely flush against him.

“Thank you, baby- fuck, thank you thankyouthank-” He babbles in your ear, barely above a whisper, and the sound is enough to send another oragasm rolling over you- or maybe the first one never really ended.

Instinctively, your teeth latch onto his shoulder and he hisses as his hips stutter and stall, hit ropes of cum coating your walls for what feels like forever. With a whimper, he shallowly thrusts a few times, fucking his cum into you as far as possible before slowly pulling out.

Slowly, he goes limp, his hold on you becoming loose and languid as you both catch your breath.

Eventually, he flips you down behind him, wrapping his arm around your waist and burying his head into the soft valley of your shoulder.

“Satoru,” You complain “I’m gross-”.

Kiss-bitten lips press soft kisses to your shoulder, and he hums in acknowledgment, but doesn't let you up.

find me elsewhere here

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk #gojo smut #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #stsg if u squint #cope fic #fix it fic #satoru gojo

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killuwumi · 2 days

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PM Dazai x Sick reader

if so, i would like a PM Dazai x Sick reader

a/n: okay so i am going to try and make this authors note short and sweet but i have been gone for awhile, but i do lurk, so i will try and get requests that are sent in done. also i hope it is okay that this "fic" is in like..bullet/headcannon form! <3

warnings: lowercase (intentional), rambling, mentions of mori, not proofread, gender neutral reader

PM!Dazai would definitely assume that you are faking sick at first to get his attention, as much as he likes slacking off at work he has been busy recently.

once he finds out you are actually feeling very ill he does his best to get time off work, and he honestly doesn't really know what to do. he knows that you need medicine and a lot of rest, so he will have his subordinates run to the local stores and get all the essentials for you.

if you need anything he is literally at your beck and call, he doesn't care what time of day it is, and honestly he doesn't trust you by yourself in this state, he gets very worried because he feels like everything he loves can be taken away from him at any moment, so even if you try to convince him it is just a bad common illness, he doesn't want to leave your side.

he spoon feeds you medicine and makes sure that you eat and usually gets you soup, or if you are craving something then you best believe you will have it. he spares no expense.

pm!dazai usually is busy teasing and bantering with you but he takes a bit more of a gentle teasing approach rather than trying to rile you up. he just barely teases you when he lays cold rags on your forehead or feels your cheek with the back of his hand.

he doesn't refrain from affection, no matter how many times you try to tell him that he could get sick, he won't hear any of that. he will be kissing you, and staying incredibly close to you at all times, and when he can't be near you he is constantly checking on you or sending people to get you things. the slightest mention of you needing something and he is on it.

mori probably tries to tease him about this, or tell dazai that having someone like you around is a liability but dazai didn't care about his opinion before and he certainly doesn't now. no one understands him like you do and no matter how minor the sickness is, dazai won't have you worrying or lifting a finger.

once you are better about a few days later, dazai is not only relieved but absolutely thrilled for you to not fight with him about affection, he is free to be in your personal space as much as he desires.

he will constantly tell you that he can't believe he had to take time off work and take care of you, or that you are so "weak." but he is completely joking and you know that, because his tone is light and he doesn't mean anything by it, but he has a hard time being too mushy gushy so he has to be at least a little mean.

he will need to be completely doted on if he gets sick afterward, he will not let you leave his side, barely ever. he will get people to bring him everything he needs and anything you want as long as you don't leave your shared space because he "can't heal if you aren't here."

a/n: i hope this is okay, i know it is really just rambling and not an actual fic, but i wanted to make sure to fill this request before i forget!

requester tag: @gooberqueen

#fluff #bsd #bungo stray dogs #killu rambles #dazai x reader #bsd fluff #bungoustraydogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd dazai #bsdfic

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 6 hours

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Childhood friends to lovers w modern Jace and he’s just really protective over you. When they go out to a party, he’s just begging you to not start anything with any guys, and he’s lowkey mad at you for wearing something revealing. You end up really drunk to the point where Jace has to take you home and you’re just rlly touchy and bold, confessing things you would never say if you sober. And he’s just being flirty back and teasing you abt the stuff you’re saying about him. Idek where this is going but like eventual smut. 😩 Ty, your works are so good.

I love college modern!Jace. To my eyes, he is always part of the hockey team and friends with Cregan. This is how I see modern!Jace

Sorry, I didn't do smut because consent when drunk is not valid consent (you know what I mean?) but everything else is checked!

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Jace sat on your bed as you finished getting ready in your bathroom. He played with the ears of your purple giraffe plushie, smiling when he saw the friendship bracelet still tied to its neck.

‘’Do you know if Jason is gonna be there tonight?’’

‘’Lannister?’’

You hummed and Jace grimaced.

‘’He’s a fucking asshole and only want you for sex. Don’t talk to him. Okay?’’

You rolled your eyes in the mirror, tired of Jace disapproving of every guy you talked to. He wasn't trying to make all guys seem bad; he just knew them and their intentions better than you. He was looking out for you.

And you trusted his judgment.

‘’Yes, dad,’’ you replied sarcastically as you came out of the bathroom.

Jace’s head lifted when you came into view, his breath catching in his throat when he saw the top you were wearing. To his eyes, this was a bra — with a longer bodice. While you looked really good in it, guys at the party will think the same and oggle you in ways that would make Jace want to punch them.

‘’Eh, is there a second shirt that goes over this one?’’

You frowned at his question. ‘’No. Why? What’s wrong with my shirt?’’

Jace took a few seconds to think of a way of saying that your shirt was showing a lot without sounding like he was calling you slutty. ‘’Aren’t you gonna get cold? It’s nearly November.’’

You shrugged, grabbing your phone and dorm keys. ‘’I’m fine. You always give me your jacket when I get cold.’’

‘’Right. But maybe you should take a jacket with you? In case I’m not available to give you mine.’’

‘’Not available?’’ Your lips curled into a mischievous smirk. ‘’Jacaerys Velaryon, are you planning on leaving with a girl tonight?’’ you teased, poking at his chest. You’ve seen him kissing girls at parties, but he never left with any of them.

He ignored your question, clearly not wanting to discuss his romantic life. ‘’Let’s go. Cregan is already on his third beer. I need to get my revenge on air hockey before he gets too drunk.’’

You laughed, slipping your phone into your small purse. ‘’Can I play too?’’

‘’We’ll see,’’ Jace said, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you walked out of your dorm.

It’s not that he didn’t want you to play. You’ve played with the boys before. It’s just that your shirt was not ideal for playing air hockey. If you leaned on the table, everything would be exposed and he didn’t like the idea of his friends looking at your tits.

The music was loud at the frat house, plunging everyone into the ambiance. You were sipping your second drink and dancing with your friends after watching Cregan annihilate Jace at air hockey. Jace seemed distracted, his eyes scanning the room instead of focusing on the game. Maybe he was searching for a girl?

Shaking off the thought, you headed to the kitchen and made yourself another drink. You should be happy if he found someone he liked, but the truth was, you were secretly jealous. He had been your best friend since kindergarten, you should have dibs on him.

You put the caps back on the bottles and reached for your glass, but someone snatched it away.

‘’Hey! Give it back!’’

‘’No more drinks for you,’’ Jace said from behind you, pouring the contents of your glass into the sink.

‘’It’s my first drink. Okay, maybe my second…or third.’’ A giggle escaped your lips. You were a lightweight when it came to drinking, a fact you always seemed to forget. ‘’I think I’m a little tipsy.’’

Jace raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. ‘’Tipsy?’’ He shook his head and suggested you head home and watch Grey’s Anatomy.

You pouted, not wanting to leave the party just yet, but the thought of watching Grey's Anatomy with Jace sounded nice. He was always so invested in the episodes and characters, but it was a secret. If his teammates knew, they would never let him live it down.

His arm was around you, leading you out of the frat house and into the cool night air. As you walked back to your dorm, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for Jace’s presence. You didn’t know many guys who would offer to take their drunk friend home without any bad intentions.

‘’You’re a good person, Jace,’’ you said, his jacket over your shoulders. ‘’Always looking out for me.’’

He chuckled, pulling you closer when a group of drunk guys walked by. ‘’What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?’’

You didn’t respond.

Once you were at your dorm, you set up your laptop and settled into your small bed. It was a tight fit, but you and Jace made it work.

The episode started where you left off.

‘’Who do you think is better? McDreamy or McSteamy?’’ you asked as Derek appeared on the screen.

‘’I don’t know,’’ Jace responded, lying comfortably against your pillows. ‘’Mark is eye-candy, but I think early seasons McDreamy was peak.’’

You nodded, laying your head against Jace’s shoulder. ‘’Same. I have a soft spot for brunets. And curly hair.’’

‘’Derek doesn’t have curly hair…’’

‘’But you do and it’s cute.’’

‘’You think my hair is cute?’’ Jace repeated, teasing you.

‘’It’s so curly and bouncy. And soft too.’’ You twirled one of Jace’s curly hair around your finger, your fingers lingering as position caused your chest to press slightly against his. ‘’And you smell very good. Except when you play hockey. You’re stinky.’’

Jace laughed, the sound vibrating through your body. ‘’Good to know. I’ll make sure I shower before seeing you.’’

You smiled, your fingers still playing with his hair. ‘’You’re so pretty.’’

Your last compliment took him by surprise, his cheeks flushing. Had you not been intoxicated on alcohol, tonight would have taken a different turn, but Jace was respectful. He would never make a move without your sober consent.

‘’Eh, thanks. Let's...let's continue watching Greys.’’

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard@domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios@lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9

All and more taglist: @kenqki@hawkegfs@gillybear17@black-rose-29@fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity @Anouk @nani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon imagine #house of the dragon #hotd

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sissylittlefeather · 3 days

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Let's Forget About the Stars: Chapter 1

A/N: Here it is! First chapter of the new series featuring Elvis and Dove Morningstar! This one begins in 1957 and will go on for a looooong time. I hope you all enjoy the fluff! It makes my heart so happy.

Warnings: none. Just cotton candy sweetness for these two. I guess there's some kissing.

Word count: ~2.5k

Dove looks in the mirror, sitting in front of the vanity in the tiny dressing room behind the stage. She blots her lipstick one more time and smooths her black hair into its low bun. Her dark eyes are perfectly rimmed by feathery black lashes. She'd be beautiful if it weren't for the color of her skin: two shades too dark to be acceptable in mainstream culture and two shades too light to fit into the lively subculture she attempts to surround herself with. But no matter where she goes, she's an outsider.

Her name gives her away. Morningstar. It's hard to deny her Native heritage with a name like that. To their credit, her parents tried to give her a chance by naming her Eleanor, a good white name, but it didn't stick. As soon as she had a voice, her cousins started calling her Dove and she's never gotten away from it. And Eleanor Morningstar doesn't look any better on a billing than Dove Morningstar. She's considered changing her name, but she knows it would break her daddy's heart. It's true he's back in Oklahoma and would probably never know, but it's ingrained in her to respect him, so she does.

But if her career doesn't pick up soon, she'll have to change it. Maybe to something that sounds Mexican or Italian.

"Dove, you're up. Come on." She sighs and stands up, smoothing the black skirt. The manager of the club holds open the door for her to walk onto the stage.

She makes her way up to the mic and begins her set, her voice soft and sensuous. There's a reason they call her Dove. More than that, she sways her hips, winding them to the rhythm as she sings. This is the other reason she has to play here and not on big stages. She just can't seem to stand still when she sings. Her wide skirt is an attempt to hide it, but it's impossible to ignore. Between the way she moves and the way she holds her microphone, she's dripping sex the second she walks on stage. Her talent is undeniable, but the sizzle of her performance makes people uncomfortable. Even here, she's an outsider, and her style is not accepted. The applause is sparse and most people ignore her, paying more attention to their drinks or their dates.

But tonight, she's caught someone's attention. He hasn't noticed his date or his drink since she started singing. He's actually not sure he's remembered to breathe since he saw her. It's like she's put a spell on him with her cooing and dancing and he's powerless to stop it.

She's not even his type, but something about her draws him in like the proverbial moth to a flame. He's pretty sure she'd set him on fire, but he's not sure he cares. As soon as she finishes singing, she opens her eyes and bows slightly. A few people clap and she scans the audience with a nervous smile. She turns to walk off the stage and he immediately stands up.

"Elvis, where are you going?" His date pouts and pulls on his hand.

"I'll be right back, baby." He says it with no intention of returning to her, pulling his hand back and making his way across the club to the manager, Joe. He's been here many times before, so he knows Joe, but she's new, so he wants to gather some information before he finds her.

"Hey, Joe, who was that?"

"On stage?"

"Yeah."

"That was Dove Morningstar." Elvis raises his eyebrows.

"Thats a helluva name."

"I know. She's a helluva gal. Wish there was a place for her."

"What do you mean?"

"You saw her. Where do you think she can sing like that? Not here. And sure as hell not at the Opry."

"Not here?"

"Tonight was proof. Folks don't like it. She's just ahead of her time, I think." Elvis nods.

"Where can I find her?"

"She oughtta be coming out from backstage any minute. Why? You wanna meet her?" Joe gets a knowing glint in his eye and Elvis damn near blushes.

"If it ain't too much trouble."

"Stay here. I'll get her." He walks away as Elvis shifts nervously from one foot to the other. Why does meeting her make his stomach flip flop like this? He's Elvis Presley and it's 1957. He might be the most desirable and eligible bachelor on the planet. But this girl, this Dove Morningstar, has him completely disarmed. He feels Joe tap on his arm and he turns to face her, trying to remind himself to breathe.

"Dove, this is Elvis Presley. Elvis, this is Dove Morningstar." There's a moment of silence between them. She can't believe she's standing this close to Elvis Presley and he seems to have forgotten that that's him. Finally, she breaks the silence.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Presley? Elvis? What should I call you?" She laughs nervously. Her laugh makes his heart skip a few beats. Joe nudges him and he remembers he's supposed to speak now.

"Oh! Elvis is fine." She laughs again and he has to hold in a groan. What is this girl doing to him?

"I love your music. I wish I'd known you would be here. I'd love to get you to sign something for me, but I don't have anything with me."

"You want my autograph?"

"Yeah... is that...? I'm sorry. You're just here to relax and I'm asking you for an autograph."

"No, honey, it's okay. I just... I feel like I should be asking for yours."

"Mine?!"

"Your set was incredible." She looks up at him wide-eyed.

"You're bluffing."

"No, I'm still reeling from it. You were great." A blush rises in her cheeks.

"Thank you... I think you're the only one who liked it." She whispers the last part. They stand and stare at each other again. Joe looks between them and rolls his eyes.

"Maybe you want to get her a drink and take her somewhere to talk?" That seems to jar Elvis back to reality.

"Yes! Can I get you something?"

"Just a Pepsi please." He smiles softly, orders two Pepsis from the bartender, holding them in one hand, and then puts his other hand on her lower back to lead her through the crowd. The contact has them both shivering. He maneuvers her to a door that opens to a staircase. She looks at him suspiciously.

"Where does this go?"

"It's a surprise. Do you trust me?" She thinks for a second, looking up into his face.

"Yes." He smiles again and leads her up the stairs. At the top, he pushes open the door to the warm night air. They're on the roof looking out over Beale Street. "Oh, wow."

He watches her as she takes in the view. She's beautiful, made even more radiant by the night sky and her delight. Something inside him has him wanting to spend the rest of his life making her smile like that. He walks to a bench and sits down, patting the seat beside him. She plops down next to him and he puts his arm on the bench behind her. Without thinking, she leans back into him, her head finding his shoulder easily.

"This is really neat. Thank you."

"I'm glad you like it."

"You really like my music?" She asks tentatively.

"I really do. Your voice is hypnotic and the way you move... You really like mine?"

"Oh yes!" She sits up to turn and look at him. "You're incredible! I'm pretty sure I have every record you've ever released..."

She trails off as he puts his hand on the side of her neck, his thumb grazing her cheek.

His heart is racing as he touches her. He has no idea what he's doing but something about it just feels right. He's dying to kiss her, but they just met.

"I sound like a crazy person don't I? Telling you I have all your records." He laughs and pulls his hand back.

"Nah, I just wish I could buy some a' yours."

"I don't have any."

"That's a damn shame."

"Elvis?" Her eyes flick between his nervously.

"Yeah, Dove?" He sits up and leans forward a little.

"Would you kiss me? I know you kiss your fans sometimes and I just... well... I'd like you to be my first kiss." Elvis has to work to breathe normally. The thought of kissing her is intoxicating.

"Oh, honey, I-"

"Never mind. It's silly." She stands up and walks over to a railing. He follows her, his heart pounding in his chest.

"No, no it's not. And I'm not sayin' no." He looks down at her and she turns to look up into his face.

"You're not?" He swallows hard. He's kissed a hundred girls. Why is the thought of kissing this one making his whole body tingle?

"But I don't wanna kiss ya like a fan. Dovey, when I kiss you, I wanna mean it." She almost swoons with his nickname for her. He cups her chin in his hand and she just about melts right there on the rooftop. He's so much more in person than she expected. Sure, he's cute, cuter even than the pictures she has of him, but she never dreamed he would be so gentle, so warm, so sweet. If he's not careful, he'll have her head over heels by the end of the night.

"I think I'd like that a lot."

"You're pretty incredible, you know that?" She smiles.

"You barely know me."

"I feel like I do. Is that crazy?" He drags his thumb across her bottom lip. Everything inside him is screaming at him to kiss her.

"No. I feel it too." She whispers again, her eyes flicking down to his lips. He can't help it anymore. He starts to lean in slowly, so painfully slowly, trying to control himself. What he really wants is to dramatically sweep her into his arms and make her his right there on the rooftop, but that would be way too much. He wouldn't even know where to begin with that. So instead, he hovers above her lips for a second and then presses his mouth to hers so very gently.

She's about to lose it. The kiss is so tender it makes her want to cry, but there's something in it that rushes through her whole body. Her heart races and her hands tremble and she's overcome with the desire to touch him. She holds back, but the need is there and it's strong.

He goes to pull out of the kiss but he's not ready yet. He needs more, so he changes the angle and kisses her again, this time with a little more passion. Still a closed-mouth kiss, but he presses a little harder against her lips. Almost without his control, his shaking hands find her hips and pull her body in close to his. When he backs away again, she throws her arms around him and pulls him back down to kissing her. This time, he lets his lips part hers and he dips his tongue in carefully. When she doesn't resist, he deepens the kiss pulling her body flush against his and sliding his tongue in to explore her mouth fully.

She has no idea what she's doing, but it feels good and he tastes sweet and oh the ecstasy of pressing up against him is delicious. She could let him kiss her like this all night. The thought occurs to her that he might try and obviously she's never done that before but she might be willing to do it with him.

Every fiber of his being is invested in kissing her and the thought of stopping seems almost impossible. Still, he can feel his body reacting to her closeness and he knows that if this keeps up he may not be able to stop himself. It would be his first time and there's a big part of him that would be okay with it being her, but not yet. So he comes up for air and presses his forehead to hers.

"We need to slow down. I don't want to take this further than we want it to go tonight." She nods.

"I've never..."

"Me neither." She's a little surprised, but it makes him even sweeter in her eyes. "We should wait."

"Yes." She says it breathlessly, noticing how he says wait like it's going to happen for them, just not yet.

"Here. C'mere. Let's sit on the bench and talk for a bit." They go back to the bench and she settles on his shoulder again with his arm around her. He picks up her hand and kisses her fingers. "Where did you come from?"

"Oklahoma. My people are Seminole, but my father moved us away from our land. My parents live in Tulsa and I'm the oldest of five. I'm sorry, you don't want to hear all this boring-"

"I want to know you. Keep talking." She looks up at him and he kisses her gently. There's something about her that makes it impossible for him to keep his lips off of her for too long.

She goes back to telling him about her family and how she ended up in Memphis chasing her music career. He listens attentively and asks questions and kisses her periodically. Eventually, it's his turn and he tells her about growing up in Mississippi, moving here, his parents, and everything else.

They don't even realize how much time passes until the sky begins to lighten and the sun peeks over the horizon. When it does, it finds them kissing again, her legs thrown over his lap, his hand on her knee. His body is weak with wanting to slide it further up her thigh, but he doesn't, praying she can't feel him where his hardness is pressing against his pants. He's never wanted a girl the way he wants her. And it's not just a physical desire. His soul is desperate to connect with her and keep her close. Her presence comforts him and if he didn't know any better he'd swear this is what it feels like to be in love.

She's the one who notices the sunrise, but she doesn't want the night to end.

"Elvis, the sun is coming up." She whispers against his lips. He turns and looks to the horizon.

"I'll be damned. We were up here all night." She laughs her little bird-like laugh and his heart swells.

"I don't want this to be over." She pouts a little. He pushes a piece of her hair back behind her ear and gently caresses her cheek.

"Me neither."

"Will I ever see you again?" He smiles and kisses her softly.

"Honey, I've been looking for you my whole life. You'll never get rid of me now." A warm smile spreads across her face.

"So it's not over? Even when we leave here?"

"Dovey, I think this is just the beginning for us."

He kisses her again as the sun rises on them. And he's right. This is only the beginning.

******

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfic #elvis fluff #elvis presley fluff #elvis x oc #elvis presley x oc #Elvis x Dove #Elvis Presley x Dove Morningstar #let's forget about the stars

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physalian · 19 hours

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There’s this unskippable Google AI ad on YouTube where this girl consults the robot about how to cancel dinner plans with the people across the table in the most annoying voice (likely because I have seen this ad now and had to listen to her asinine questions 20 times at least) and this ad, right here, speaks to my frustration around AI:

It disincentivizes critical thinking.

I know the ad is a joke and meant to be lighthearted and I’m only this annoyed because it’s unskippable and irritating af, but every time I see it all I can think is “if you can’t manage enough creativity and critical thinking to come up with your own excuse to cancel on your friends, maybe you shouldn’t have those friends.”

I have a relative who is firmly in the ChatGPT camp and, for example, yesterday I was trying to figure out how to compress a video file and was venting to them about it. They sent me back something I didn’t read from ChatGPT. Meanwhile, I looked up a YouTube video and figured out how to do the rest on my own, and getting the file compressed was immensely satisfying. Far more than mindlessly and thoughtlessly consulting the robot.

“It’s just like a YouTube video!” They’d told me.

No, a real person put time and effort into that video. That robot stole their content without their consent, didn’t credit them, and spat it back out. I used to patronizingly refer to ChatGPT as "the magic conch" and now I can barely do that anymore because that metaphor is becoming all-too real.

While I can understand the barriers it lowers—like if you struggle with writing the robot does it for you, or if you need a piece of art and are too poor, you can generate it for free. Mindless, repetitive tasks that eat up creative juices that can just be automated by a robot, too (even though everyone can tell when a response is canned and artificial and no one appreciates talking to a machine).

If you keep consulting ChatGPT for how to articulate what you want to say, or just straight-up having it do the hard work for you, you’re never going to learn. Yes it’s taken me 8 years to reach the quality and skill of writing I have but as another Tumblr post out there said: The time will pass anyway.

I can’t draw to the skill level that I’d like to. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to keep practicing until I get there. I thrive off that sense of accomplishment. There’s no little hit of dopamine from typing in a prompt and clicking a button and I certainly don’t appreciate the final product scalped without consequence from real artists.

Or, like when I had to fire a beta reader for flagrant abuse of AI in her work: I can copy-paste my manuscript into ChatGPT, too. I’d paid her for a human response, not garbage feedback that couldn’t understand what I was writing beyond that there were words on the page. I wanted so badly to ask her why she does a job in a creative field if she's just going to have a robot do all the fun parts? I beta read at a great loss of profit because I enjoy beta reading and it's a fiercely competetive market. Surely if she wanted to scam people, she could have done so in so many other ways. You don't need to know how to pen complex prose in your every day life, but by god, you do need to know how to effectively communicate, contextualize, and argue your perspective and this ridiculous ad joking about cancelling dinner plans sure is funny, until it isn't.

And I know the people who made AI probably did so with the best of intentions but people can be lazy and cheap and we love taking shortcuts to save money and I stand by this: "Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to think if they should."

So. Yeah. This is a writing advice blog and this post has almost nothing to do with it, but that ad annoys me to no end and I had to say something somewhere about it. Bottom line: Robots were supposed to make the hard jobs, the monotonous jobs, the overcomplicated jobs, the belittling jobs easier, not make us all into pudding-boned Wall-E people. If you want to write, learning is absolutely free - write on the back of your grocery receipts for all I care. If you want to draw, pick up a notebook and pack of pencils from the local dollar store and start drawing.

What you made will always mean more to you than something that didn't cost you time, effort, brain power, or even money to obtain.

#fuck ai everything #writing #drawing #ai #chatgpt #mini rant #wall-e was a warning not an aspiration

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tanoraqui · 3 days

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Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: Ghost Sherbert, Paintings, Mimics & Kelpies!

Senshi's holy sherbet is such a good example of the trope of if something is holy to the user, if they have true faith in it, then it's holy enough for magical purposes like ghost repellant. For all intents and purposes, cooking is holy to Senshi, though he doesn't technically think of it that way. It's just clear in everything he does for and with it.

Paintings! Time to pay extra attention to see if I can pick up any clues that I missed in the show....

...yeah I'm getting nothing. Though I did notice the Mage in the background in the first painting, this time - I kept missing him before.

(I know his name's Thistle, from fanart, but where I am in the story it feels much more correct to call him the Mad Mage, so I shall.)

ooh nextt chapter stars right off with wing motifs on a chest and another leonine water fountain. I'm watching you, buster!

The memory montage of Chilchuck getting mauled by mimics is really so funny.

On one hand, Chilchuck is totally valid and reasonable in requesting that his party members stop referring to him as a kid and being irritated when they don't, and in refusing to share personal information like his age which isn't relevant to his job. He objectively has the moral high ground on both these counts.

However, I must also note that the fact that halffoots appear young to most other races, in stature and in face, is clearly a known phenomenon - and it's not pure racism; his head to body ratio is higher than a grown tallman! It's like how cats trigger human maternal instincts by being small with big heads and eyes! - and Chilchuck simply telling the party his age would help negate that. And every time he protests he sounds like SUCH a defensive teenager about it.

Ooh I didn't get before how the mini poem told Chilchuck in which order to press the bricks, but now I do: sunrise (east), moonset (west), fixed star (north), and then south is last by elimination. Nice!

Senshi IS the best of them in terms of understanding and appreciating the ecosystem of the dungeon, but his disrespect and dismissal of first Chilchuck's traps expertise and then Marcille's magic does really grate. He's so Old Man Refusing Objectively Useful Technology about it. It's not like you can walk on water unaided, buddy! Even riding a kelpie, if that had worked, means less maneuverability and more risk for you!

sflajlkl If this mini-flashback was in the anime, I missed it!! But I am not surprised to learn that it happened.

In my heart, this is now a party in-joke forever.

Laios and Senshi are so fucking drift-compatible, I love it.

#dm lb #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon

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haveihitanerve · 8 hours

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“Where the hell is bats?” Superman looked up in surprise, finding a very angry looking Green Lantern standing above him, hands on his hips. Clark turned and did a quick scan of the tower. “Uh, meeting room with Barry and Ollie-” “Thanks.” Hal bit out quickly and turned on his heel, storming for said meeting room. “Hal wait-!” Clark stumbled to his feet and sped after him but Hal seemed to have no intentions of stopping and plowed right into the meeting room, slamming both doors open. Clark, unbelievably, heard Bruce sigh. “When the fuck were you gonna tell me?” The Lantern demanded. Bruce had removed his cowl, standing at the table with the other two men, who had both removed their costumes and were dressed in sweatpants and a Batman hoodie. Hal gave them both unimpressed looks. “Really?” “what?” Barry defended, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “B is the only one who actually has a change of clothes here thats comfy.” “Something that needs to change by the way.” Bruce informed him, pointing his pen at them. “Thats Dick’s and Jason’s and while Jason is sure to be fine with it, Dick gets a little stiff about sharing his hoodie.” Oliver raised an eyebrow, setting his feet on the table as he sharpened an arrow. “Really? He doesn't share hoodies?” “Oh he shares them.” Bruce corrected. “Just not that one. Not often.” Hal smirked, seemingly understanding the underlying meaning, then his face turned back to anger. “Ahem.” He growled. Bruce sighed, turning to face the man. “Why do-” “if you're about to ask why i even care i will shove his arrow up your ass.” Hal fired off before Bruce could finish. Bruce rubbed his forehead. “Its not a big deal.” “Its most definitely a big deal, especially since I only learned about it because fucking Damian threw an ingraved katanna at me that had it on it.” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Really?” “Thats fucking scary and insane Bruce!” Hal shouted. “A katana?” Barry asked, interest piqued. Hal gave a quick nod. “Yeah. its actually pretty cool except it has that written on it and he didn't tell me.” Bruce sighed, slumping into a chair. Clark hovered in the doorway, extremely confused. “Why didn't you tell me?” Hal demanded, still standing. “I never intended for you to find out?” Bruce offered, wincing. “Wrong fucking answer Bats.” Bruce chuckled. “I know, I know. Its just- it wasn't important?” He offered instead. Hals face grew positively murderous. “Are you serious right now Bruce?” Bruce sighed. “Its- its not a big deal!” He defended. Hal scoffed. “Right. As if. I bet you even jason showed up. Thats how ‘not big of a deal’ it is.” Bruce sighed once more. “Jason- he shows up for it no matter what. Its- hes more reliable than Dick in that sense.” Hal glared at him. Bruce deflated. “Okay. Okay alright im sorry. I’ll- well you know now so..” Hal shook his head and looked at Oliver. “Were you there?” Ollie glanced at Bruce then back at Hal. Hal scoffed in disgust. “Wow. Wow. Barry, I don't even have to ask. I was wondering why you were vibrating the other day. Was the cake good, huh?” Barry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry um, I’m still unclear as to what we’re talking about.” Clark finally intervened, stepping into the room. Hal glanced at him. “Oh. Bats here forgot to tell me it was his birthday.” “its not that big of a deal!” Bruce protested. Hal shook his head in defeat. “Alright whatever Batsy. It doesn't even matter. I got Dick to promise he’d invite me next year so whatever. But I am buying you dinner!” He pointed a threatening finger at the male. Bruce’s lips twitched. “Alright Lantern. If you insist.” Ollie chuckled and Hal finally released his anger, slinging an arm around Bruce’s shoulders. “I really do.”

#some bats and lantern banter #i need some more of their friendship #theyre such an underrated duo #i love them #hal jordan #bruce wayne #besties #batfam #batman #green lantern

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sanjoongie · 2 days

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ꓖ𝗼𝖔𝚍 𝒞σр

Sequel to Two-Way

ღPairing: Detective! Seonghwa x criminal! reader (f) ft Detective! Yunho

ღAu: detective au, murder mystery au

ღTrope: s2l

ღRated: 18+ MDNI, smut, pwp

ღWarnings: abuse of power, ⚠dub-con⚠, soft dom! hwa, sub! reader, aftercare, voyeurism, begging, overstim, sexual interrogation, multi-orgasm negotiation, fingering, dacryphilia, breast play,

ღWord Count: 1,075

ღSummary: Seonghwa lures the truth from you, fucking you through several orgasms to get results

ღBeta’s: @downtoamagicalland

ღDedication: to @flurrys-creativity, who along with many others, wanted a second part, but this was meant as a present for her to succeed in writing a much delayed fic 😆 i hope my suffering was worth it

"Here," a kind voice said. "It's not much but it's something.” Strong but soft hands raised you to your feet.

When you didn't respond, the man helped tug your clothes back into place. "I've got some water, you need it.”

You should feel shame through every cell of your being... but you don't. This man, helping you, has seen you in your most debased form. And yet…

“Don’t worry, I hear Seonghwa is pretty long too. He’ll finish what I started. Be a good little slut and show Seonghwa exactly how good your cunt can be for him.”

Was Yunho truly going to let another man finish you off? That wasn't the Yunho you knew. He was a competitor, through and through. There had to be an alternative motive here.

You don't take the water, studying the new detective. He has kind eyes and soft lips. His nose is regal and his jaw sharp. He doesn't look like a mean cop like Yunho could be. But then San's sunshine smile lit through your mind, face splattered with blood. Appearances are definitely fucking deceiving.

“If you're ready, I'd like to go over some footage with you. Ask some questions. All on your time, of course.” His voice was lulling and melodic. His tone whispered to trust him. He patted the back of a chair, suggesting you sit down.

The sound of the chair scraping against the linoleum is enough to make you wince but still you sit down, primly mind you.

Seonghwa leaned over your shoulder, close but not overbearing, and tapped on a tablet to wake it up. “I don't think I heard you quite clearly here,” he murmurs next to your ear.

The video plays showing Yunho fucking you against the two way, from the corner camera. You squirmed in your seat. Seonghwa's head comes into view, intent on the video. His finger hovers over the screen, following the curve of your ass. You watch as you move your ass back towards Yunho's thrusts, insisting on your innocence.

Seonghwa bit down on his lip. “Right…” Yunho demanded how, against all the evidence, how you're still a suspect. And then you admitted to being San’s lover. “...here!”

You had been mid-cry when Seonghwa paused it. “Choi San’s lover, huh?”

You nodded. “I hated that woman because she was obsessed with San. But I didn't kill her. I… I faint at the sight of blood. There's no way I could have pulled that off.”

“What a relief,” Seonghwa grinned. “You're too beautiful to be a killer.”

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. “I'll take that water now.”

Seonghwa leaned back, his ass against the table. He undid the cap and handed it to you. “I hope you're not worn out.”

You swallowed profusely, drinking half the bottle before putting it down. “Yunho… trained me well. I'd be a let down if I could only last… once.”

Seonghwa cocked his head curiously. “Can I help you?”

Your hands tightened in your lap. “He said… you'd finish what he started. Will you? Please?”

“Of course!” Seonghwa agreed easily enough. “Only if you help me.”

The chair screeched a second time as you fell to your knees and clutched his pants. “Anything.”

Seonghwa laughed, an adorable snort that made a lock of hair fall into his eyes. He lifted you up a second time and changed positions. He pushed your ass up against the table and guided you to your back. “I don't need your help in that department, Sweetness.” His dark eyes followed his fingers as they swept up the inside of your thighs. Your outer lips were smeared with your wetness…and Yunho’s. His fingers rubbed along your folds, circling your clit and making you cry out.

“Just tell me what Choi San has to do with all of this and you can cum again and again,” Seonghwa purred.

You shook your head. “He’s just my lover.”

Seonghwa hummed in acknowledgement, continuing to make circles around your clit. “And?”

You groaned as he inserted his thumb into your aching hole. “And she was obsessed with him, the mad woman.”

Seonghwa tsked. “How dare she? Didn’t she know he was already taken?”

You arched your back and fondled your sensitive breasts. “Well--” Your breath caught in the back of your throat. “--she didn’t know about us.”

Seonghwa nodded sagely. “A secret tryst between you two then. Must have been fun.”

You frowned at the past tense he used. “It was just better that way.”

“Certainly,” Seonghwa agreed with you. He removed his hands from your body and you keened at the loss. “So San never expressed his anger towards this woman?”

You looked up at Seonghwa with puppy dog eyes. Where was the cock you were promised? “He was annoyed but never angry. San would never hurt a fly.” Because flies never caused him pain.

Seonghwa rewarded you with your response by undoing his slacks. When he pulled free his hard cock, you salivated at the length. Yunho had not been bragging, by all means. He played the head of his cock against your hole, pushing only a little bit before pulling out. It didn’t take long for him to find the sweet spot inside of you, and without any aid, pushed you over the edge.

You came but somehow you were satisfied. Seonghwa was playing with you, you knew it, but you couldn't help but want more.

Seonghwa raised his eyebrows at you in question. “What’s wrong, sweetness?”

“That was--” You let out a shuddering sigh as you realized Seonghwa hadn't come and he was still rock hard inside of you. “I need more.”

“Mmm, so do I,” Seonghwa sighed softly.

He maneuvered his body until he was lying horizontal with you. The tablet was near both your heads and Seonghwa tapped his long fingers against the screen. The scene played once again, with Yunho manhandling you and talking dirty to you. Your lower half flooded once again with shame and lust.

“Seonghwa,” You groaned as he grinded his pelvis against yours. His eyes were solidly on the screen, timing his thrusts with that of Yunho. You whined as you were fucked but not hard like you preferred.

“We can do this all day,” Seonghwa murmured, not looking at you but screen you. “I can do this all day. But can you? Don’t you want me to slam into you? I can have you coming on my cock again and again and again, but you won’t be happy until there’s some roughness to it, hmm?”

Seonghwa’s fingers stroked the screen again, watching as your past self sunk to the floor after your first orgasm Yunho gave you. He rewound the footage and made it play again. His cock, the length good enough to slam into the end of you, quietly stroked the heat between your legs. You whined again but you knew until you said what Seonghwa wanted to hear, he was probably good on his word.

You swallowed down your whines. “Wh-what do you want?”

“Give me something to link San to this crime,” Seonghwa moaned.

You shook your head again. “There’s nothing. There’s simply her obsession.”

Seonghwa planted his palms solidly on the metal table and fucked you with precision but slowness that coaxed another orgasm out of you, simultaneously as you came loudly in the footage. Tears streamed from your eyes from the second climax, still feeling both full and empty at the same time.

His slim finger caught a tear and sucked it into his mouth. He released it with a mocking pop. “Such pretty tears for me, Sweetness, but it won’t help you.”

Your mouth trembled. You wanted to be fucked so badly. This sweet love making matched Seonghwa but it didn’t release your need. “Please,” You begged. Your fingers reached behind Seonghwa and dug into his plush behind. “Please!”

With the same finger that was wet from your tears and Seonghwa’s saliva, Seonghwa pushed down on your clit and started up again. “Your sweet begging is awfully tempting,” Seonghwa whispered gently. “I wish I could help you. But until you help me, there’s nothing to be done here.”

The dual stimulation had you tipped over the edge again, your mouth stretching into a silent ‘o’ as you came for the third time. You wished you hated overstimulation but you didn’t. Your hips bucked against Seonghwa’s, demanding more. His hands were gentle on your body, his lips suckling your breasts with the patience of a good man. But still left your body aching for that more that your kinkiness required.

“I don’t think it’s gonna work, Yunho,” Seonghwa called out to the air as he pushed some of your hair out of your face. “She’s not breaking.”

“So much for your tried and true practice,” Yunho’s harsh voice came out through some speakers.

Your body shot upwards. You hadn't even considered that Yunho was watching. That wasn’t his thing at all.

Seonghwa pursed his lips to the side of his face in thought. “I need you to be a good girl for me, sweetness, to prove a point.”

“I can’t,” The tears and the pout came unbidden this time, “I can’t give you what you want to hear.”

Seonghwa chucked your chin with his pretty fingers, kissing you softly. “What does he do for you that the two of us couldn't?”

Flashes of San, his sweet smile and the blood splatter on his chest, smeared with your violent love making. “We’re tied in blood and cum, you and I are, my love,” he growled, “You can never betray me with a pact like this.”

You had a secret to keep, a lover to cover for, regardless of how much your body begged for that sweet, rough release you were looking for. And besides… San could more than give it to you… as long as the two of you were released from custody.

You raised your chin stubbornly. “You two can’t be San.”

A loud curse and bang could be heard through the speakers, shocking you and Seonghwa. Was Yunho coming back? What did that mean? You both anticipated and feared for what the future could hold for you.

#park seonghwa smut #seonghwa smut #ateez smut #atz smut #park seonghwa x reader #topaz's work #recent #ღatz

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