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msbyslilbimbo · 2 months

Text

toji tickles you, bc he knows it’s punishment from him that you’re not used to :/

and he is. cruel. he’s so mean to you about it because it’s a punishment after all, but the way he hooks his thumbs under your arms to tickle you, or ruin your orgasms by scratching blunt nails under your knees is just too much sometimes. sometimes, when he’s eating you out, he lets his tongue roam up to your bellybutton, lapping there hungrily while you shriek and try your hardest not to push his head away or- god forbid- kick him away. if you’re good, he rolls his thumb over the swell of your clit vigorously to make you cum, conditioning you to love what he’s doing like a dumb dog. if you do kick or hit him, or he’s just not feeling nice, he gives you a flurry of raspberries on your tummy while nails skitter over your ribs until it doesn’t even arouse you anymore and all you can focus on is tickling fingers and them not stopping as overstimulation and panic floods your mind and between your legs as you weakly push his head away to no avail.

but today he’s just in a bad mood.

his texts are blunt and short, he’s not using any pet names or even any dirty talk, it’s like you’re talking to a stranger. you pout with every blah text, ultimately before you turn off your phone and ignore the buzzing from your boyfriend.

a few hours pass before toji finally comes home, teeth bared in a snarl as he stalks up to you. in a panic you stand up too, “toji…?”

“why the fuck did ya stop texting me?” he snaps.

a chill shrill’s through your spine, “i… felt like you didn’t want to talk-“

“of course i fuckin’ did,” he says, only to then grab you and hoist you over his shoulder, ignoring your pleads of forgiveness. “only fuckin’ thing gettin’ me through the day, and you have the nerve to ignore me?”

“toji!” you mewl. “please! be nice! im sorry!”

he scoffs as you finally cross the threshold into the bedroom, and he tosses you on the bed and crawls after you to climb. he uses two big hands to hold both of your wrists above your head, and he works himself between your legs, keeping you fairly immobile from the figure between your thighs. “the hell’s being nice ever gotten me?”

you whine as a massive hand comes square on your tummy and scrabbles over the quivering flesh, no build up or anticipation needed before he dives in and just starts tickling.

“n-no!” you choke.

“‘no,’” he mimics right back, voice pitched and face bored. “like hell im gonna listen to you.”

“why!” you wail. “i didn’t even do anythihihing!” your knees nail into his tailbone in an attempt to get away, and you arch your back upwards to try and get some slack in your arms, but all he does is adjust them tauter and flatter against the bed.

“maybe i just wanna be the bad guy, huh?” he grumbles. “maybe i just wanna be the big, mean, evil guy who tickles you because i want to, eh?”

he is mean. you’d been nothing but good and patient all day, keeping up chores and housework so when he comes home it’s pristine, and all he wants to do now is tickle you until you cry.

“i dohohont wanna be tickleddd!” you demand, and he merely gawfs at your audacity.

“hate to tell you princess, don’t fuckin’ care what you want.”

thick fingers pinch at the meat of your hips and dig ferociously into the sides of your tummy, only to skitter back up under your arms where you sob. The sensations are maddening, but the signals in your brain slip when, in your search for freedom, you pant a moan out when he’s hard, hard as a rock nuzzled against your pussy. the rutting sensation feeling so good, you keep going, laughter turning breathy as torment crosses into pleasure. your eyes cross as you twitch, legs wrapping around his hips to keep him closer, albeit your torso still fights him off.

he smirks, “i think you’re full of shit sayin’ you don’t want this.”

it’s a case of a good thing becoming a bad thing, as releases your hands to slip a beefy hand down to your shorts, where he toys with the fabric; one hand tickles under your arms, one working the hem to the side to tickle your sticky pussy lips.

“toji!” you yelp, trying to tighten your legs to get him out of there to no avail. he’s stuck between your legs, and there’s nothing you can do about it but laugh and laugh.

your hands shove at his big shoulders as best as you can, given the tickling under your arms, but you’re convulsing from the overstimulation, tickling being the only thing on your mind as you writhe and plead for him to have mercy.

there’s a heat brewing between your legs as you flail to get away, one that pleads you to stay for the idea of a soul wracking orgasm from him toying with you, the other desperate to get away from the tickles.

he licks his lips, “maybe that’s why I like doin’ this to ya so much,” he says, leaning down and worming his head between your arm and head to whisper in your hypersensitive ears.

“makes me horny watchin’ ya squirm.”

@highdefhoetry 🙈🙈🙈 im sorry this was goofy

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upat4amwiththemoon · 10 months

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Heyy can i request a wanda x fem reader oneshot where r is the queen of a nation which is similar to Wakanda and the avengers need this nations help for something (sitting on the throne looking badass moment ) and she is graceful and so badass like: sitting at dining table uses knife to point towards empty seat, “oh. sit, please.” R has powers and helps them out. Wanda being head over heals and finally them dating. I am sorry for the long request 😭

Mother Nature

Summary: A queen so powerful, myths have been written about her. An island so mysterious, no one knows where it is.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x female!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 2505

a/n: listen…this got a little out of hand

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @sayah13 @wandsmxmff @emsmultiverse @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

Dragonstone is a volcanic island in the North Atlantic Ocean, just below Greenland and Iceland, but it’s not visible on any maps. Not many know of its existence, as the island is surrounded by such powerful magic, making it invisible to the naked eye. If anyone were to sail towards it, violent storms and currents will make even the strongest of ships sink. It has become a myth to the outsiders, an area such as the Bermuda Triangle, where everyone disappears into the nothingness. This keeps the island, and its population, in safety and peace. They have fought no wars, nor have they suffered in the hands of man made concepts.

However, the fights have started to get bigger, sometimes having the faith of the whole Universe in their hands. That much they figured out after Thanos. Which is why the Avengers know of Dragonstone, and its Queen, and how to get her help.

Everyone holds onto their seats as the Quinjet’s autopilot navigates through the dark clouds, often going through turbulence. “Are we sure this isn’t actually just some freak of nature spot? Is there anything here?” Tony grumbles as he tries to fasten his seatbelt impossibly tight. “We have very expensive cargo on board, and by that I mean me and my suit.”

“Fury seemed confident in his knowledge.” Steve reminds, slightly more calmly, though he is also nervous.

Wanda has her eyes closed. She tries to stay inside her mind, ignoring everything going around her. Air traffic has never been her favorite, but this is next level. The Quinjet does sudden dives and turns, throwing anything loose around. This is why Fury said to fasten everything to the walls and roof, but like usual, Tony didn’t take the advice to heart.

She can feel Natasha’s hand holding her own, calming her down slightly. Wanda doesn’t personally know Fury that well, but she knows Natasha thinks very highly of him, so she is pretty sure he wouldn’t lead them to their certain death. However, she can’t be sure, as this is starting to feel like a wrong way to the supposed island.

“Why couldn’t Fury come here himself? Or the Queen to us?” Kate almost shouts at a particularly violent spot.

“Because when we ask for help from royalties, we show them respect.” Steve states, his *all the younger generations have forgotten respect* personality every old person has shining through. “Did none of you learn this in Wakanda?”

No one gets to answer him, as the Quinjet starts going up, up, up full speed, making everyone yelp. After it has reached the correct altitude, it goes down headfirst. For a moment, the team is sure something has gone wrong, that they are plummeting towards their death. But right before it hits the water, the Quinjet turns the right way and continues flying forward, now in a completely calm climate.

They instantly calm down, letting out breaths of relief and relaxing their tense muscles. Natasha is the first one to get out of her seat, going to the cockpit and looking out the window. “Well, at least the island is real.” She calls out. The others start to pile up in front of the window.

At first glance, it looks like they’re flying towards a big pile of rocks, but at a closer look, they can see the rocks form big walls and even a bigger castle on the island. They’re in awe of the view. The water and air are so calm now that they’ve gotten past the barrier.

They stare out the window while the Quinjet lowers itself to the ground, right outside the walls. Once they step outside, they see two people waiting for them. “Welcome to Dragonstone!” One of them smiles. “My name is Sylvia and I’m the Queen’s advisor. And this,” she gestures to the person next to her, who is wearing an armor, “and this is Calen, they’re the head of protection in this island.”

They bow their head down as a greeting, not saying anything to the guests. The look on their face is serene and their posture is straight, like a proper soldier’s. Sylvia on the other hand shows more excitement through her body, even though her hands are behind her back, they’re still wiggling around, and the smile on her face is one that can light up a whole room.

“Thank you for granting us access to your island.” Steve speaks up, being the unofficial spokesperson when it comes to formal situations.

“Fury is an old friend of Gaia, any friend of his is a friend to us. Now, if you’d follow me, I’ll take you to the castle to meet our Queen.”

They start trekking the land towards the castle, first walking on the bare land and then moving to narrow walkways as they go inside the walls. Most of the walk goes by in silence, the team taking in their surroundings. They’ve never seen anything quite like this.

Wanda drags her hand along the stone fence, her fingers going along the bumps and ridges of it. She smiles. The magic of this island feels different than her own, but not in a threatening way, it feels like it’s dancing with her own.

Finally they get to the castle’s entrance. The huge wooden door opens inward, two other soldiers pulling it. Calen and Sylvia greet them as they go past them. “The Queen is in the throne room.” The latter tells the group, leading them through hallways before stopping in front of a door.

The door to the throne room is also wooden, but it’s a lot more decorated compared to the other ones. It’s carved from top to bottom with different pictures, making it look like a story. Calen pushes the door open, letting everyone walk through it before closing it again. At the end of the room, the Queen sits on her throne. The royal seat has been made out of purely white stone. The backside of it is tall and the sides are wide enough for the Queen to lay her arms there comfortably, but it still looks delicate.

“Gaia.” Sylvia lowers her head in respect and Calen goes down to one knee to bow. The Avengers, quite hesitantly, bow in some way too, bot sure of the island’s customs.

“There’s no need for that.” The Queen’s voice makes all of them rise. Sylvia and Calen take their respective places near the Queen, while the team stop in front of the stairs to the throne. “I hear you are friends of Nicholas Fury.”

Wanda stares at her in amazement. The way she looks so soft yet regal makes her heart pound faster than normal. She can see her chest moving up and down as she breathes, the armor like steel plate moving with it. The dark blue fabric is thick for colder weathers, but flowy enough to move easily. Wanda’s eyes move up to the top of her head. The crown on her head looks like it’s made out of steel as well. It makes her look sharp and strong. She looks majestic sitting on her throne.

“We are,” Steve smiles, “thank you for agreeing to meet us, your Highness.”

“Please, Y/N.” She states. “That’s the name my mother gave me.”

“Y/N. I’m sure you’re aware of a recently defeated threat from space called Thanos.” He continues once she nods, “unfortunately the other worldly threats don’t stop there. We’d like to ask your help to prevent these kind of attacks more efficiently.”

“Certainly.”

Wanda shudders from the way Y/N says the word. Her pronunciation, the slight rasp of her voice and how she rolls the letter r, make her feel dizzy. She is sure the look on her face is stupid, and lovestruck, her eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. The whole conversation going on is going past her. Only thing in her mind right now is something she really shouldn’t be thinking about, but she just can’t stop herself.

“Would you give me the honor of joining me for dinner today? We even have enough guest rooms if you wish to rest before your trip back to America.”

“We would be honored to join you.” Natasha answers. She has been glancing at Wanda during the conversation with a grin on her face, she can read her face easily, knowing what the witch is fantasizing about.

The Queen stands up, her dress falling perfectly to her feet. “I’m glad to hear that. I shall see you in the dining room in an hour, in the mean while, Sylvia will show you where you can refresh yourselves.” Sylvia nods and gestures for them to follow her. Wanda keeps her eyes on Y/N as she walks away, noticing a small smile growing on her face.

After an hour, the Avengers gather into the dining room by Sylvia’s lead, where Y/N is already waiting for them. “Gaia.” Sylvia says before leaving the room.

Y/N stands up, pointing towards the empty chairs. “Please, sit.” She says with a smile, sitting down once again when they get around the table. Wanda sits next to her. She can see the small details of her breast plate from this close.

The table is already fully catered with different foods and desserts. It works like a buffet, everyone takes what they like to their plates. “Can I ask you,” Wanda starts when her plate is full, “why do they call you Gaia, if your name is Y/N?”

“Gaia is a title of sorts. Every queen before me was called that as well, because we keep this island alive and safe. It means Mother Nature.” She explains with a gentle smile on her face, holding eye contact with Wanda as she talks to her. “It is an honor to be called Gaia.” Wanda nods, not able to look away from her stormy eyes.

“How does the next queen get chosen?” Tony asks.

“It’s more faith than decision making,” she pauses, looking for best words to describe how their queens get their role, “we’re born to it, but not in a traditional sense. We are born from the previous Gaia, they mold us from magic.”

“So, there’s no…” he moves his fingers around in a promiscuous manner, which makes Steve look at him disapprovingly. They’re in front of the Queen after all.

But she only finds the situation amusing. “No. Children born in a traditional way are random, and our queens need to be precise. They’re all women and they all have powers. They need to be born from magic.”

Although they don’t really understand the process, and none of them want to ask about the specifics of it, they still find it fascinating. It’s a whole new country with completely different customs compared to theirs. Wanda especially listens to her intently. Her smooth voice practically drilling its way into her brain.

“Can the queen have relationships? Even if they don’t have any part on the next generation of rulers.” The question makes Wanda’s head snap to look at Natasha, who has a wide grin on her face.

“Yes. There are no rules on relationship. The partner just has to know they have no rule over the island.”

Satisfied with the answer, Natasha nods, sending a discreet wink towards Wanda. Her cheeks turn a shade of pink. She tries to hide it by eating the food.

They keep a light conversation going while they all finish their food. Once the plates are empty and the stomachs full, they start leaving the table and go to their rooms. The Queen doing the same. However, she isn’t alone for long.

There’s a knock on her bedroom door.

“Hello, Wanda.” Y/N smiles, the door now open wide. “Would you like to come in?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Wanda steps into the room, the door closing after her. She looks around the room, trying to keep her eyes off of Y/N’s thin night gown. A big bed is in the middle of the room, it has light blue veil over it and a white fur on top. A window, almost the size of the wall, is on the right side of it, but it’s already covered with dark curtains. Otherwise the room is quite plain. A wooden dresser. Mirror with steel decorations. What catches Wanda’s eyes are the tapestries on the walls. They’re bright and colorful, each one having its own story. “Beautiful.” She mumbles.

“They tell our history.” Y/N steps beside her. “Every queen makes one. These are the oldest ones, the rest are in the library, visible for everyone. One day mine will be there too.” She sounds proud when she speaks of her ancestors.

“Your mother, is she still alive?”

“No. The crown passed down to me when I was thirteen.”

“I’m sorry.”

Y/N turns to her with a smile. “Nothing to be sorry about. She’s with her mother and grandmother, and so on. And one day I will see her again, until then, I will make her proud by keeping the people on this island safe.”

However beautiful the idea is, Wanda still feels sad for her. She knows what it’s like to lose your mother young. But she doesn’t comment on it more, clearly it’s not something appropriate to discuss now. “The magic. It feels different here.”

“Yes, it’s not the same as yours. The magic is part of me as much as it is a part of the island. We’re connected. We can sense each other. I can control it and it can influence me.”

“That’s why they call you Mother Nature?”

“Sort of. There’s a long history there. But yes, my ability to control the sea and the air around us is a part of it.”

“Maybe you’ll be able to tell me some day.”

Her smile widens. “Maybe.”

Wanda smiles too. She notices how Y/N’s eyes twinkle in the dim light, as if they had their own light source. “You’re beautiful.” The words stumble out of her mouth. She had no intention on making any mind of move this soon, but she couldn’t help it. This felt like a right moment.

With a small giggle, Y/N looks down, trying to cover her warming cheeks. She doesn’t usually get nervous, but Wanda sounded so sincere. “I’m flattered you think so.”

“Do you think you could go on a date with me? Later, of course. Do you have any rules on that?” The nervousness starts growing at the bottom of her stomach again, the lapse of confidence leaving her body quickly.

“There are some rules, but nothing major. I could definitely go on a date with you, I’d actually really like to do so.”

Letting out a breath, Wanda nods. Her hands are moving her rings around. “Great. I- uhm, that’s great.” She laughs quietly. “I’ll leave you now. See you tomorrow.”

“See you.” Y/N gives her a small wave, smiling widely even after the door closes.

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wynnyfryd · 2 months

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Trailer park Steve AU part 50

part 1 | part 49 | ao3

cw: angst, canon-typical violence, period-typical homophobia

Steve gets the full story from Jeff later that night.

After Eddie and Wayne come out of the bathroom — after Eddie goes straight to his room and shuts the door without so much as a glance in Steve's direction, after Wayne clears his throat and suggests they all clear out and give the kid a night to cool off — Steve drags himself back to his trailer and paces for a while. Tries not to feel horribly rejected, which is...

It's fucking ridiculous, is what it is.

Stupid to be focusing on his own dumb feelings right now.

Eddie's the one with a pulverized face.

So anyway, Jeff. Steve dials his number, and it feels weird that he even has his number at all — weirder still that, of all the guys in Corroded Coffin, he and Jeff have the most in common. Makes sense, though; Jeff's the only one who likes professional sports even a little.

"Hello?" Jeff's nasal voice comes over the line.

He sounds like his usual self — doesn't sound like he got pummeled, at least. Steve paces a tighter circle, says, "Hey, man, it's Steve."

Jeff makes a clipped noise. "You saw Eddie then?"

Furious heat crawls up the back of Steve’s neck, the image swimming red in his tunneled vision: the welt under Eddie's eye, the blood blooming on his chin. Someone did that to him.

Someone who needs to fucking pay for it.

“Yeah,” he seethes, trying to keep his voice down. “What the hell happened?"

Jeff sighs; launches into the vague version of events that he's allowed to tell — the version with no names and no identifying details, because Eddie made them swear not to tell Steve who was responsible.

"Sorry, man," he says when Steve presses for the third time; sounds like he means it, too. "Eddie seems to think you'd just land yourself in big boy jail if you knew, so…”

Steve clenches his jaw, his fists. Imagines fresh blood against his knuckles, how good it would feel to slam them into someone’s face; has a flashback of Billy Hargrove pinning him to a kitchen floor, laughing maniacally while his world went dull and dim.

…Goddammit. “He’s not wrong.”

So Steve listens, silent and helpless while Jeff tells him as much as he can about the mounting Satanic panic: how the townspeople are still grieving everyone who died last summer, how that grief is turning to paranoia, conspiracies about the destruction of the hospital and the fire at the mall, and now there are all these news articles coming out, whipping churchgoers into a frenzy over the queers and the occult, and the end result of all of it is that Eddie gets his ass beat in the alley behind a shitty dive bar.

All for having the nerve to wear a Black Sabbath shirt in public.

“Eddie said they stole something?” Steve prompts after a short silence.

"His amp,” Jeff says, and Steve sags in relief. At least it wasn’t the Warlock. He can replace an amp no problem. “They stole our fucking tip jar, too. Not there was much in it, man, but still.”

Fuckers, Steve thinks.

"Fuckers," Jeff spits, then sighs, "so much for being Christ-like, or whatever."

Steve chews his lip. Fiddles with his nails, hoping to work out a way to get Jeff to give him names. He only knows one name that comes to mind, but he can’t just go pummeling people on a hunch.

“If you ask me again,” Jeff says, “I’m hanging up.”

Well, damn. He slouches back against the counter, folding his arms over his chest. "The rest of you are alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we're good. We were loading the van when it happened.” Another short, derisive sound. “Of course they waited to corner him when he was alone."

"So they planned this," Steve says, and the name in his head is practically flashing on a marquee. Jason Carver and his lackeys at that party back in November. The back of Jason’s head at the midnight mass they snuck into. Is this freak bothering you?

Steve’s voice is a lethal whisper. "Do you think they'll do it again?"

"Steve—"

“Do,” he repeats, “you think” —Hopper’s ghost in his mouth, authoritative and slow— “they'll do it again?"

Jeff lets out a long breath, his words wobbly with nerves. "I don't know, dude. Probably not? One of them looked pretty freaked out by how messed up Eddie's eye was."

Steve tastes blood in his mouth.

Fucking better have.

Another silence falls, rustling and static sounds, and Jeff hesitates. "Listen, uh..."

"Yeah?"

"Nothing, just... Well. Eddie can get a little, um. A little weird, about people seeing him be, like, vulnerable and shit. So. Just a heads up."

Weird like hiding from his boyfriend? the petty part of Steve’s brain supplies. Weird like shutting his door without saying goodbye?

He tamps down hard on the hurt that bubbles up at the reminder, because—

Because Eddie’s seen him at his most pathetic too many times to count. Has seen him blubbering and soft and desperate for comfort; has offered it so eagerly without judgment or thought. And if Steve can’t do the same now, if Eddie thinks there’s shame to be found in it, then that means— that means…

He swallows the glass shard in his throat. “Thanks for the warning, man. For real.”

—

part 51

holy shit i can’t believe i wrote 50 parts of this

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #jeff stranger things #corroded coffin #my writing #my fic

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shoyoist · 2 years

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content: fem!reader. pussy eating + fingering. somno, but not exactly. overstimulation, implied multiple orgasms. listen up everyone shin eats pussy for his own pleasure <33

— . ｡˚ ♡ shinichiro wakes you up at 00:00 on the first of August, hungry for his birthday present.

"angel," the muffled, sleep-heavy rasp of shinichiro's voice coaxes you away from your sleep, and your eyes flutter open slowly as you feel the pull of his arms around your thighs.

"what—" your mouth opens to ask him if something's wrong, but what escapes your parted lips instead is a gasp of pleasure, when you feel his fingers pull at the folds of your pussy, your legs already spread and thrown over his shoulders as he leans in and places a chaste kiss right on your clit. "shin!"

"g'mornin', love." he mumbles, lips pressed to your cunt. the space between your legs feels slick, sticky — and you're not sure if that's just his tongue, or if he's been palming and playing with your body already, causing you to react to him unconsciously. "guess what day it is today?"

"'s y-your birthday." you mumble, eyes hazily searching for the clock on the table beside the bed, and they open wider when you see that it's barely two minutes past midnight. "baby, it's not even morning yet. why—"

"want my present." he slurs into your pussy, and any reply that was forming in your head is wiped clean when he sticks his tongue into your hole, drinking up the wetness that leaks out of you. "didn't wanna wait."

your mind is cloudy with sleep, barely awake.

but the pleasure that sparks up your spine and within the coil in your stomach when his lips press into your clit, deft fingers digging into the plush skin of your thighs as he grips them tighter, urging you to wrap them around his head as he delves deeper into your cunt — it's electrifying.

when you look down, you see the dark mess of short, black hair bobbing between your legs as he eats your cunt all up, sending shivers crawling through you with each flick of his warm tongue between your folds.

"so fuckin' good, angel." he grunts, low and husky as he takes hold of the back of your thigh and pushes your leg further up, allowing himself more room. "y'taste so good."

a flustered whimper is all you can manage in reply, as he presses you into the bed and devours you, letting out the neediest groans right into your cunt, your body shaking with each word he says. "make some pretty sounds f'me? need ta hear you."

he says it like he isn't just going to wrap his lips around your clit and suck the moans out of you himself, but you open your mouth anyway, letting out a sleepy plea for him to go just a little faster with his tongue, telling him to take you to his heart's content.

"'s my good girl," he breathes, the words hot and heavy over your skin as he turns his face and gives you a wet kiss on the inside of your thigh. "my only girl, yeah?"

"mhm," you whine, hips jerking as he dives back into eating you out, the orgasm building within you so fast it makes you dizzy.

"my one 'n only girl g'nna let me," he exhales, licking a thick line from your clenching pussy to your throbbing clit. "let me fill her up? gonna let me make her cum as many times as i want, 'n then fuck her full of my cum?"

"yes," you moan. there's no other answer to give, not when it feels so amazing and when it's your sweet, doting boyfriend's birthday and this is all he wants to have from you.

"good girl." he repeats, and with the next hot kiss he lands on your clit, your orgasm crashes down on you, and your breath catches in your throat as you cry out, asking for his fingers, wanting him to curl them into your tight, fluttering walls as you reach your high.

he does as you say — but you can barely hear his praising whispers as he pushes two fingers, and then three, into your squelching pussy and fucks you with them. each wave that washes over you is one of pure bliss, and your vision goes bright with stars as you gasp out shinichiro's name again and again, unable to say anything else.

"fuck, my doll's the prettiest when she's cumming." he says, and you think he's done, that he's going to let you come down from your high and then put his cock in you — but then, his arms wrap tighter around your hips.

shinichiro pulls you back in, and fits his tongue in your cunt again. "mm, keep goin', angel. keep makin' those pretty sounds."

you grab at the blanket that's under you, curling your fingers into a fist and letting your other hand crawl between your legs so you can push him away, ask for a few minutes in between before he fucks you again. "wait, wait, shin—"

"no," he says bluntly, tongue lapping at the slick as it drools out of your cunt. "taste so good like this, baby. let me have you."

the spike of pleasure that courses through you when his lips tighten around your wet clit almost stings, this time — and when you squirm in his unrelenting embrace, an incoherent moan spilling from your throat, you know he's enjoying this so much.

he loves when you squirm helplessly in his hold, coming undone over and over again by his needy mouth — he loves pushing you to heaven like this. gets drunk off it.

and you can't help but think of his cock — hot, leaky and blushed red under his sweats as he grinds against the mattress, so ready to force its way into your tight, sticky heat and stuff you full of his cum.

that'll have to wait, though. because what shin wants for his birthday is to have you as his first meal, and he's not going to move onto anything else till his hunger has been quenched.

#₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™.#₊˚ପ⊹ NYCHTA.#shinichiro smut #shinichiro x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tr x reader #tr fluff #shinichiro headcanons #shinichiro drabbles #sano shinichiro x reader #shinichiro sano x reader #sano shinichiro smut #shinichiro sano smut #tokyo revengers x you #shinichiro x you

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pedgito · 1 year

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heyyy, idk if you're still taking requests but I haven't been able to get this thought out of my mind for like a week:

"fuck me like you want me"

"but I do want you"

"...wait, what?"

a friends w benefits to lovers w eddie?? reader catches feelings for him after a little while & is going to call it quits on the situation they have going until eddie confesses his feelings in the middle of what she thought was going to be their last time? idk if the concept is good but like I said I can't get it out of my head & i hope you'd be willing to write it. Ur an amazing writer <333 hope you're doing well lovely

author’s note: i actually really loved this idea!! writing has been a little tough for me lately, just with focusing but i really tried to do something short but sweet with this and i hope you enjoy!

cw: 18+ (minors dni), fwb to lovers, confessions, angst/fluff, protected sex, just lots of feelings, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 1.3k

You wouldn’t even let Eddie pull you past the threshold of his room, adamant on where you stood by the front door, telling him this would be quick. And he’s got that look on his, always smiling at you like he wanted to say more, but he was being polite, listening to whatever you had to tell him.

It was a blindside, honestly. Eddie couldn’t remember the last time he’s remained this oblivious, missing the signs, the obvious distance you were trying to create, how quickly things went from good to bad, the awkward stage in between where you didn’t want things to stop, but you weren’t sure how troublesome things would become if they progressed.

So, you call it quits.

“We can’t do this anymore.”

Your voice doesn’t waver, no hesitance in your tone despite how horrible it felt saying aloud.

“What?”

Eddie doesn’t want to believe it himself, face contorting into a mix of amusement and confusion, grinning like an idiot. It was the same dopey smile he always had, never anything less than.

“This, we can’t.” Your finger wags between the both of you, “The sex—I can’t.”

“Are you—are you disgusted or something?” Eddie asks, his smile faltering, “Does this mean we have to stop being friends too?”

Eddie hates himself for feeling upset over it, doing his best to mask whatever hurt was radiating throughout him. The problem was, unfortunately, that Eddie had dived into this with feelings pre-established. He was reckless and agreed and threw himself into a mess he couldn’t escape—not that he wanted to, but it had never been just sex for him.

He’s never had friendship like this; he’s had friends, but the levels at which you and Eddie understood each other, it was hard to recreate.

And you loved Eddie, that much was true. But, you couldn’t stand the idea of the feelings not being reciprocated, cutting things short before they transformed into something you couldn’t snuff out.

It was preemptive—and maybe you were jumping the gun, but you didn’t have any other choice.

“We agreed on no feelings, right?” You ask to clarify, his face softening at the inclination—everything that was unclear shifting into place.

Feelings. Stupid fucking feelings.

“Yeah, but—“ Eddie starts to defend.

“I mean, we probably should’ve expected it, right?” You ask with a weak smile, “One of us was bound to catch feelings—“

The only thing Eddie can focus on is losing you.

In his mind he knows—you’d never really leave. And you had feelings, feelings for…him? For the sex? But, he can see the look in your eyes, the hesitancy you feel to move toward him, within his reach.

Eddie can’t take it, saying what you both were feeling.

“Is it selfish of me to ask for one last time?” Eddie asks, “Before things go back to how they were?”

How they were—when things were normal, if you could call it that.

You find yourself nodding before you can stop it.

And for a moment, everything else is forgotten.

Eddie kisses you like he always had, full and attentive, teeth dragging against your lip and his touches all consuming, traveling amongst your body with no real path, touching you, trying to remember you—but when he finally breaches your entrance after a few minutes of shaky hands struggling to open the condom wrapper, the head of his cock pressing inside you finally, everything’s different.

Eddie doesn’t realize how much of a mistake it was until this moment, your eyes connecting with him intensely, face contorted in an expression of confusion as you examined the frown on his face, wondering why he looked so perplexed.

“At least fuck me like you want me, Eddie.” You plead softly, his thrust slow and languid.

He’s not trying to hide from you, but he's definitely not here with you, in the moment.

He forces a smile and buries his face into your neck, pressing warm, soft kisses into your skin in hopes that you’ll change the subject, his hands adjusting your legs around his hips as he moves against you, more forceful than before.

“Hey, hey—“ You urge, pulling his face away from your neck until his wide eyes are on you again for a brief moment before his eyes travel to your chest, your thumbs rubbing at his temples, “what’s going on with you?”

Anywhere but your eyes. He couldn’t keep himself together with you looking at him like that.

“Nothing.” He persists.

You shake your head, breathing your nose in frustration despite how hurriedly Eddie was moving inside of you, grunting softly under his breath.

“You wanted this,” You remind him, “you can’t even look at me right now—Eddie—“

He collapses slightly, forehead resting on the pillow behind your head as he squeezes at your thigh, shifting his hips at angle that has you both gasping momentarily, your hands shifting to his shoulders for purchase, the dullness of your nails sinking into his skin.

“I do—“ Eddie mumbles into your skin, muffling the rest of what he says, only feeling the vibrations of it against you.

“Eddie, I can’t hear you.” You plead, brushing his hair behind his ear, rubbing tenderly at the shell.

Sex had always been slow, intimate—despite the obvious stipulations to your deal and maybe that was the problem.

The sex was fun at first, easy—and it stayed that way, but it ventured into more, always needing to touch and feel and connect, whether it be your lips or your eyes, it wasn’t just sex to either of you, and Eddie couldn’t handle it anymore.

He couldn’t do this, but he couldn’t not have you—even if it meant he risked embarrassing himself.

“I do want you.” He confesses, head lifted slightly so you could hear him more clearly, his gaze still avoiding yours. “I don’t just want this.”

“Wait,” You laugh short, annoyed, “what?”

“I always have,” He continues, “It’s never—it’s never been just this for me, I know it was stupid of me to agree and drag you along but—“

You shove his shoulder lightly, stopping his movements momentarily. He’s looking at you know, hair askew and his eyebrows furrowed in surprise, “What the hell?”

“You let me embarrass myself like that?” You say seethingly, though the anger doesn’t reach your face—you can’t be upset with him, not with your current situation.

Or ever, really. It was to hard to stay mad at Eddie.

“I come here and tell you I have feelings and you’ve felt that way the entire time?”

Eddie’s at a loss and maybe it’s the arousal running through his brain but he can’t help laughing, a soft chuckle as he falls against you, his chest against your own as his fists dig into the mattress.

“I’m sorry.” He says endearingly, “You know I’m not good with feelings, or talking, or words—“

You sigh heavily, palms coming up to cover your eyes.

Eddie smiles slightly, using his nose to nudge your hands away from your face, leaving kisses as he finally breaches.

Against your nose, “Sorry,” down to your chin, “so sorry,” before pressing a deep kiss to your lips, tongue slipping inside and causing you to sigh out into his mouth, “really, really fuckin’ sorry, okay?”

Your fingers dig into his hair, pulling him away until you can see his face, scowl deep set into your features but still soft around the edges.

“I’m here mourning and you’re harboring secrets like that?”

Eddie hangs his head in shame, leaning down briefly to press a kiss against your collarbone.

“Apology accepted?” He asks hopefully.

“No, absolutely not.” You reply stubbornly.

Eddie snorts out a ridiculous chuf of a laugh, “Fair.”

“We’re finishing this,” You tell him, making your point by squeezing your legs tighter around his hips, forcing him to groan pathetically, “and then I’ll think about forgiving you.”

Eddie nods obediently, eyes squeezed shut for a moment as his languid thrusts become more pointed and precise, his warm palm settling in your knees to spread you apart to his liking.

“Let’s see how much I can make it up to you then, yeah?”

He snaps his hips once, harshly, forcing a broken whine from your lips. You nod fervently, mouth hung open and any previous anger forgotten for the moment.

“I’ll show you just how sorry I am.”

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #my writing

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evilminji · 4 months

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Pondering Doors Again >.>

Thinking about a concept I saw in a Manhwa. "Dungeons feed of the death that occurs within them" and how the Protagonist went "alright, Bet. A stable and prosperous society for outcasts has a LOT of Death! What with the need to eat food and people growing old and thus, inevitably, at least SOMEONE dying every day".

Because FARMING is and always has been a slower but more profitable way to accumulate food then Hunting. More reliable too.

And? What better way too feed your hunger(HungryHungryHUNGRYItHurtSIMSO-) then by BECOMING a Trap Door? Not every ghost looks human. Not every ghost WANTS too.

Maybe you want to Live. Yes, you are fighting, fighting, fighting. Not even Death can take you. But given half a chance? Given the infinite freedom of the Zone and all of Time stretched out before you? Do you? WANT to think anymore? WANT to keep fighting FOREVER for every scrap of food to fill your endless NEED for food? Your obsession with being full?

You can stop.

Like meditation.

Instead of MAKING a Lair... become one. You could always change your mind, if you felt like it. Souls rarely if ever DO, but you COULD. Then? You wait.

There are house ghosts. Dwellings that die. You blend right in. Are you angry? Vengeful? Do you blame the world? Perhaps you'll call them in. Like Hansel and Gretel. Look upon my house made of candy, children. Isn't it tempting? Isn't it sweet? Come closer. Listen to my siren song.

Chomp.

But, maybe you are tired. Hungry. Old bones and cold, barren soil. Barely the strength to paint gaudy veneers over straining, decaying wood. Like long abandoned circuses. You try for the appearance of cheer, but your tattered visage. betrays you. Yet, just like them, while you may not be able to entice those you truely wish to come? Vermin find safety and comfort in your walls.

And is that not how nature heals? First the weeds? The insects and vermin? Little things that build to great forests over time? Blobs hide within in you. Safely out from underfoot. What do they care, if you can not provide them scenery? You are safe. And they? They feed you in turn.

Like little worker bees. Drifting out, gorging on ectoplasm, and returning. Nesting safely inside you, they radiate that Ectoplasm and leech it into the Lair around them. You feed. And Feed. And FEED.

You make more places to hide for them. Bushes. Trees. You only half remember them now, so the colors are off and the forms shakey at best. The blobs do not care. More flock to you in response. You grow stronger. Make more trees.

You finally, FINALLY attract a curious and skittish ghost. They linger by the entrance. Watching. Uncertain. They know traps and hunters hide out here. Who would leave a perfectly good Lair up for grabs? This is a trick. A nasty little trap. Right? It has to be! Their luck can not be this good.

But it is. Because bottom feeders find each other all the time. Lairs that have little to offer and Ghosts who couldn't possibly defend anything worth keeping. All the Zone is stronger then them, why not be weakling together?

And they always take the chance. Because hope is eternal.

Inching forward in a cautious float, ready to dash away, they eventually realize the Lair really IS up for grabs. It really CAN be theirs. Which of course... means they have to fix it up of course! They are THRILLED. Look at all this ROOM! Why, these trees are LOVELY. A good start! They just gotta tweak THIS and then THAT aaand... there we go! Oooh, now over THERE would be a great place for a- *excited muttering*

And a proper ghost? MUCH better at bringing in Ectoplasm then a blob. Then dive in and out, fetching plants to transplant, decorations, building supplies. They invite their friend to crash with them. Become roommates. Their roommate gets a partner. They meet someone. Eventually somebody has a kid. And so on and so on.

All the while, they are feeding their Lair. Do they know it's not a NORMAL Lair? Yeah. They aren't dumb. Blobs disappear sometimes, if no one leaves for too long. House ghosts don't do that (or so they're told). But? They aren't powerful ghosts. They are weak ones. They CAN'T defend one of the nice spots from jerks who want to take it.

But a Lair that can defend ITSELF? And doesn't seem to want to eat them? Meh. Whatever works, man.

And you know what happens? Eventually, you reach a sustainable mass tipping point. Enough ghosts, set up in houses and cabins and castles and caves. All within a single Trap Lair. That they radiate enough ectoplasm to sustain the Lair itself. Enough that it can FINALLY pull the infamous and legendary "never leave" trick.

What is that trick?

Simple! You are a ghost. You'd kinda like an apple. You get up to leave you Lair to go get one. Oh, hey, an apple tree! That's new. Oh, these are really good! You sit back down. You never leave. Why would you leave? You are happy and have everything here. Your friends and family are here. Have another cake. Sit back down.

That is the trick.

The Trap of the sort of Trap Door.

They are known as Honey Traps. Heaven's Gates. Dream Doors. And they build slow to become quite dangerous. Entire cities exsist inside them. Ghosts go in and never come out. The take the energy you produce, small kernel that it is, and feed it back to you. And Ghosts? Efficient generators that they are, produce far more then they are given. Little into more. Little into greater. Building and building.

Until it has the strength to weave dreams.

Trap and entice. Blind and numb you. Bread and circuses for the masses, pay no attention to the bars that keep you here. You LOVE the comfort of your cage! You can leave whenever you want! You just never want too.

The Lair makes certain of that.

@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation

#danny phantom #danny phantom prompt #dp prompt #minji's ponderings

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the-s1lly-corner · 11 months

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Their ideal partners

Silly little hcs because ive been thinking what each of the lads look for in a s/o

Slenderman;

Given I'm aiming for the "he's been observing humans for centuries and has grown used to their antics," vibe with him, I feel like he'd like someone who keeps him guessing

Nothing TOO crazy, because he can be irritable, but if you intrigue him he'll definitely stay around

Does he have any peculiar icks? Tastes?

Can't stand messy people... doesn't mind if its unorganized, or a chaotic system, but if you live in muck it's a deal breaker

Doesn't care what you look like, or what gender you are; he sees beyond that because, again, ancient being that's been watching humans for a long time.. kinda desensitized to that sort of thing

Laughing Jack;

He WANTS someone who can match his energy; but he NEEDS someone who can mellow him out

As much as I hate the "I can fix/change him" thing (well I dont HATE it, it really matters on execution and all), Jack needs someone who can make him chill out a bit

Icks? You know those people who kill the energy in a room? Like total buzzkill + downers? He doesnt like those. Not like the "he hates depressed people" way, obviously, but in the way that

Okay so idk if this is just a me thing but I come across a lot of people who do it on purpose for attention/quirkiness, those are the kinds of people he doesnt like

Like slenderman, he doesnt really care what you look like; bros gonna slip himself around you like a snake (affectionately)

Eyeless Jack;

Right off the bat he needs someone who's understanding

It ain't easy being a cursed man who's forced to eat human meat

Someone who's willing to listen to what happened to him, and help him see the brighter side of things

Basically a "storm cloud x sunshine" ship dynamic

Icks? As long as you're not too chaotic or hyper he's fine with it; Jack is more quiet and reserved energy wise, stress tends to make the curses symptoms worse

Prefers short people; he himself is also short (I hc hes about 5'5), and he's a lil insecure, but he's not totally opposed to dating taller people

Masky;

Writing for specifically masky for this one instead of the usual tim, hope that's alright!! I just wanna flesh out him n hoodie more

Bro is kinda..... whouf... rough around the edges; kinda feral

Not like FERAL feral, but this is the kind of dude who tunnels on someone during his work and wont be afraid to body slam into stuff full speed/force

So naturally, he gets hurt a lot. So a caring and soft partner is an immediate go to; especially since in my hc/au tim still exists, just as a different.. persona? Headspace? I really dont know the correct terms <\3

He likes observing as well, but he'll occasionally join in on whatever activity you're doing!!

Icks? Loud people... I would say spontaneous people as well, but considering my take on him, he kinda falls into a softcore version of that category

Hoodie;

Very similar to masky, but also not... between the two hes more.. calm and calculating; whereas Masky tends to dive straight in, in most cases

Should not that neither of them verbally speak; so they both need a partner who's fine with physical touch since that's one of their main ways of communicating/showing affection

Especially with hoodie; dude always has a hand on you and guiding you in some way

Unlike all the others, hoodie does not have ANY preferences for partners. Doesn't matter the personality, body type, and he doesnt have many icks

Probably doesnt like arrogance, kinda just annoys him.... but hey, makes his.. job.. easier

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drurrito · 1 month

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Carry You Home

A/N: LISTEN I JUST WANNA SAY I'M SORRY I PROMISE I USUALLY DO HAPPY ENDINGS. IT'S SORTA HAPPY RIGHT?? RIGHT????

Pairings: Natasha x Reader...kinda...

Warnings: Major Character Death (I'm sorry); blood; general angstiness

----------------

Clint stops just before the kitchen, you don’t make a move to acknowledge him until he calls your name.

“She’s here,” he breathes, his fingers tap-tapping against the door frame. You’re already a hair away from him by the time he draws a second breath to ask, “are you sure you want to do this?”

“I’m doing this no matter what,” you bite, Clint only nods.

“I’m taking her home,” you push past his frame, and he watches you go for a split second before he’s trailing you all the way to Banner’s office. You’ve made your choice, there’s not much else he can do about it.

Bruce is quick to stop you just before his lab, Sam is there as well and Clint rounds the corner to join them. Their eye contact is brief, doing a piss-poor job of trying to hide their sorrowful looks. Clint already gave them a rundown of what's going to happen. You’re going in alone and leaving with Natasha’s body. You’re taking her home.

Clint shares a look with Bruce, and he steps aside to let you in. The frigid air hits you hard, you squeeze your eyes shut for a few seconds, taking a deep breath to acclimate to the drop in temperature.

Then you see Natasha. She’s still wearing her suit, tattered and stained with her blood. Her braid is a little messier than usual, but it’s still intact. Her body is incredibly stiff and her eyes…oh god her eyes are open. You steady yourself with a shuddering breath and reach out to graze her cheek with the tips of your fingers.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” you start. Her eyes are dull, it’s like looking into a now empty home that was once full of life and memories. Your throat burns terribly as you delicately brush your fingers over her eyelids.

“Remember when we talked about what life was going to look like after the Avengers? You wanted a quiet retirement party and I wanted one that was big enough to rival Gatsby,” you laughed. Retirement was the furthest thing from your mind for a long time until Natasha sold you on it one night after a long mission. You would have agreed to anything just by the way her nails danced along your skin that night.

“I bought your dream home, our dream home,” you whisper, “closed on it just last month,” your fingers try to glide through her hair, catching on knots and dirt. She’ll need a bath before her burial, you note.

“Nothing grand, I know you wanted something quaint and low-key with a white picket fence,” you choke back a sob, “I already got us a few animals. Some geese, a pig, a black goat named Liho, just like you wanted.”

Natasha always talked about wanting to move somewhere in the countryside. A decent sized cottage. “Cabin,” you would cough and she’d elbow you to stay quiet. A cottage with a lot of land, a barn full of animals that she hand-picked herself, minus the pig and goat you probably begged her to keep at some point. You’d both spend your days taking care of the animals and diving headfirst into hobbies you can only keep up with for about a month or two before deciding maybe you’re the kind of couple who just likes something simple, like puzzles.

When you came back with the second snap, you were met with a look on Clint’s face that said everything, but you had to ask.

“Where’s Tash?”

You snap back to reality with a shudder. Your vision now blurry with tears.

“I’m gonna take you home, Tash,” you suck in a shaky breath. She’s heavy in your arms as you walk through the halls of the compound to take her to her final resting place.

Home.

#natasha romanoff #works #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #IM SORRY

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

Note

ERIN AND MONSTER READER

The masochist yan and a slighly sadistic reader

Muah

(injury mentions)

"You're going to die here...."

This man. An infatuated little creature responsible for concerns regarding your most frequent hunting grounds. The developing minds of mortals are at peak during the years they gain their place in the world. Filling their heads with hopes and dreams slashed by a greater hunger.

It would make the most sense to station yourself in an environment full of these beings, however problems began your second week in. Someone noticed you. Unliked by his peers, but still to popular to be a target. You thought nothing of his pining stares while on school grounds - then they began to follow you elsewhere.

His eyes stalked you around the city, even narrowly discovering your hideout on a day you acted without caution. He belittled and harrassed any student you spoke to, leaving you without a meal for days. You feared he managed to figure out your secret, but that just didn't feel right. Regardless, he needed to be taken care of. A task proven to be easier than planned while also difficult due to how quickly he followed you - and the way he looked at you now.

"You're going to die here... yet you don't beg like the others..Why?"

His tongue brushes the gash in his skin, a distant, dazed out grin held to his brushed lips. Widen eyes keep track of every droplet of blood down your claws, dilated with fear - and an emotion you can not read. It's one of the most repulsive things you've seen on a human. Twisting preadtor into prey and swallowing you whole with how deep it ran. His uneven, slow breaths escalate into rapid huffs as he starts to laugh.

"You want me to beg for you? Then do it, freak. Fucking hurt me. Bet you're real pissed at me for getting in the way of your other catches. That's because I'm the only one you need. Why have a meal that's over in a second, when you can have a permant one who just needs a little time to heal?"

Erin whips out his pocket knife and slices down the center of his palm. He holds the blade under the bleeding wound and pressed the flat side in to increase the flow. A little apology for the aggravation he caused.

"Been weeks hasn't it? That tells me you can survive without food longer. I can give you my blood and pieces of my skin to hold you off for a while."

You aren't listening. Crouching onto your knees, hovering over him, you snatch his wrist and dive tongue deep into the growing pool of blood. Erin throws his head back at the sting of the exposed tissue being violated by your insatiable need - pain such a euphoric he has to clamp his free hand over his mouth to avoid making a sound. Your talons pierce his arm and he almost loses his head before you retract your tongue. You spit a mixture of blood and hot saliva in his face. Erin softly moans.

"Call me a freak again - and I'll tear you apart."

"Don't... threaten me with a good time"

#Erin my oc #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere blurb #yandere insert #male yandere #monster reader #yandere bully #yandere drabble #sub yandere

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pathetichimbos · 6 months

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Ok actually I've been in love with your toughts about Thomas, YOU'RE AN AMAZING WRITER!!!

Btw, I can't stop thinking about how this man deserved a childhood friend that would eventually become his lover, someone that decided to treat him like an human being once and discovered he's just really sweet boy and not a monster.

Do you think that would change anything about how Thomas behaves in the future?

Oh, this is something I have thought about, I could write a whole fic on the AU, but let's not bite off more than we can chew and put that idea to the side for a future project. Please bear in mind that this post may seem lesser than my others and more rushed, that was quite literally because I had to continuously stop myself from writing endless drabbles on this idea.

But, I digress. Let's dive into the factual and realistic results of giving Thomas a childhood friend.

So, as we know, Thomas has had a lot of health issues from birth, and the Hewitt family did their best to get him the medical help he needed, taking him to doctors up until he was about thirteen or fourteen.

We also know that Thomas has been bullied for most of his life, and was isolated from his peers and community at a young age.

And we know that Thomas is some flavor of neuordivergent, so if we add all of these things together, we get a school record full of absences, low grades, and detentions from fights he didn't start, because we all know that in small southern towns, teachers really don't give a shit who starts the fight, they care about who's family has the better reputation.

So, he's in an out of school from the get go, has a bad reputation with all his teachers (and going into every new grade because teachers talk), and struggles with learning in the traditional way.

This starts tons of rumors about him.

They float all around the school, everyone knows who Thomas is, and no one in particular likes him.

But! Let's back up here, and take it back to, oh, I don't know, first, second grade? Around that time frame.

Thomas is still a little dude, being harassed and bullied by his peers and generally not having a fun time.

But, this time around, we'll drop another little dude in there. (that's you!)

And this little dude (non-gender term) doesn't particularly care about Thomas' deformities and disabilities. Who would?

So, you start hanging out with him. And Thomas, (who we all know thrives on positive attention), is confused, but not unwelcoming.

I don't think he'd be really clingy right of the bat, but give it a school year (maybe two if he's out of school a lot that particular year), and he's going to be a lot more comfortable with you, and that's what's going to lead to that clinginess.

Especially if you're nonchalant about grabbing his hand or touching him in general, because, remember, most people are afraid to even come near him, so the fact that you don't care and are willing to just casually touch him, is a huge thing in his eyes, and as he gets older, he's going to want more.

So, we'll skip ahead a bit until y'all are 10-12ish, and at this point, you're Thomas' best friend. Everyone knows you two hang out, the Hewitts love you, and it leads to a bit more isolation on your end, because no one wants to be friends with the freak, let alone the freaks weird best friend. (and yes, you're weird, I know you are because you're listening to me rant about leatherface /affectionate <3)

But, this also opens Thomas up to people a bit more, as the few people that do talk to you, eventually talk to him, maybe not go as far as to be his friends, but enough to be friendly.

Of course, some people are fake, and they'll ditch the both of you the moment the 'popular' kids find out they talk to you.

And other people don't, it's middle school, life in general sucks. Y'all are just trying to survive your way to highschool.

Now, if we assume you help tutor Thomas and you help keep him out of trouble (i.e. a large tree limb tends to deter bullies), we can assume his grades will go up, which will probably get his teachers off his back. All of these things are good. Thomas has a real friend, and not everyone treats him like a monster. His grades are better. His family is proud of him.

But Thomas still has mental health issues. And just like he hid them from his family, he hides them from you as well. His peers and community may have shunned and isolated him, but he also shuns and isolates himself from his family and friends, so I believe that despite being clingy and wanting to be around you a lot, if he hits a depressive episode, he's going to isolate from everyone.

That's what leads to his self mutlilation.

He slices the skin off his cheeks in an attempt to "fix" his deformities, believing that if he just gets rid of them, his disease will go away.

...But it doesn't. And he doesn't get to see you for a long time, a worried and frightened Luda Mae keeping her baby locked away and protected from the world while he heals.

That's when Thomas stops speaking. The healing wounds and eventual scars make it harder for him to speak, making anything more than a mutter or whisper painful for him.

This is when he finally drops out of school. It's a small southern town in the early 1950s, so there's no fight to stop him, after all, he's expected to help his family run the farm.

When he finally sees you again, he's worried you'll have changed your mind about him, and even though you haven't done anything wrong, it takes time for him to trust you again, his own self doubt ruining his confidence in your friendship.

But, after that, you're pretty much inseparable again. Everyone in town knows that if they see one of you, the other isn't far behind. Thomas still struggles a lot on his own during this time, and I don't believe he'd be capable of loving himself enough at this point to love you, or at least, I don't think he'd believe you actually like him, and for the sake of this post, we'll keep it that way.

Thomas spends a lot of time at his house at this point, so you spend a lot of time after school there with him. His house is practically your house. Luda Mae, Charlie, and Monty all know that once school lets out you're headed over, and they set an extra plate at dinner for you. (They don't know how Thomas could be so possibly blind to your affection towards him, but other than Charlie's stray comments encouraging Thomas to 'give it a shot', they mind their business)

Once Thomas gets a job at the slaughterhouse, and you get your own job in town, you'll often walk to the slaughterhouse after work to meet Thomas just finishing his shift, and the two of you will walk together until you have to separate to go to your own house.

It breaks people's minds seeing how soft Thomas is with you, their own preconceived ideas about the man leaving them baffled when he's gentle and caring to his friend.

It's about his early to mid twenties, when people start looking at you as more than just his friend, and as someone to actually chase and date, that Thomas finally snaps.

You don't know what comes over your best friend, but he becomes extremely affection and protective of you, no one can approach you in a flirtatious way without Thomas following close behind, simply standing behind you as a warning for them to move on.

But he doesn't actually try to date you. He's still torn by his own poor self esteem. It drives you insane.

You'll have to confront him, and give him an ultimatum. You can't keep playing this game, where he refuses to let you out of his sight but runs away every time you try to make a move.

He caves, obviously, not willing to lose you in any capacity, but your relationship is slow and careful, working at his pace as he learns to accept himself and your love for him, which takes a very long time.

He's not comfortable with any PDA, just barely letting you hold his hand when you meet him after work.

"But we've always held hands." You point out, and he looks away with a shrug.

It's different now.

But, let's step away from the drabble territory. I've already had to rewrite this post like five times now.

Over the years, Thomas becomes more and more comfortable with your relationship, and you have to teach him practically everything. He genuinely doesn't know anything going into this. And I mean anything.

As the town starts to die, and your family decides to leave, the Hewitts welcome you with open arms, but Luda Mae moves you into the guest room. After all, you're not married.

That doesn't stop you from sneaking into his room at night though.

But, despite the implication I just made, I don't think Thomas would be ready for actual sex until marriage. He's still a traditional man, just the way his mother raised him.

But, again, not my main point. Stick with me, I'm wrapping it up now.

All in all, I don't think Thomas would be that much different. A little more self confidence and self esteem, sure, but he'll still be Thomas. When the factory shuts down, he'll still snap, and he'll still kill the supervisor. He'll still start preparing human meat like he's asked. But other than feeling a bit more comfortable in his own skin and mind, he wouldn't be much different. He's still our same old Tommy.

Ok, that's all for now. Thanks for sending in the ask love <3

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x s/o #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #slasher x s/o

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merrybloomwrites · 22 days

Text

You Can Start a Family (Extra: First Earthquake)

Summary: Y/N experiences an earthquake for the first time. She and Harry have a bizarre serendipitous moment.

AN: I felt an earthquake for the first time yesterday and it inspired me to finally write this silly story that's been in my mind for nearly a year.

Previous Chapters:

Main Story: One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six ; Seven ; Eight ; Nine ; Ten

Sickfic Part 1 ; Part 2

Mitchrry Prequel

Fan Reactions

Holiday Blues

Mitchryy Reunion

Getting High

Word Count: 1.1K

CW: earthquake, injury, blood, vomit

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When you moved to Los Angeles to live full time with Harry, Mitch, and Sarah, you had a million questions. One thing you were almost embarrassed to ask about was earthquakes. Luckily, none of them laughed about your concern. They’d all experienced a few themselves. While most were small, they can each remember at least once or twice that they’d been genuinely worried during a fairly large quake.

So, they listened to your worries, told you what to expect, and shared what they’ve been told to do in order to stay safe.

A few months in, there’s a mild earthquake. The doors rattle, the mirrors and art on the wall shake, but no damage is done, and it only lasts a few seconds. You report to your friends back home that you finally experienced one.

But now is the first time you truly get shaken around. Harry, Mitch, and Sarah are all in the basement studio working together on new music. You’re upstairs in your little home office answering some emails.

You’re sitting at your desk in the corner of the room when everything starts to rattle. It’s small at first, but quickly you know this is much bigger than last time. Immediately you think of what you’ve been told to do in this situation.

The number one piece of advice you remember is to get under a desk or table. Your glass desk, however, doesn’t seem like the best choice.

There’s a sturdy coffee table in the middle of the room and you start to make your way over to it, stumbling due to the floor shaking beneath you. Suddenly, something slams into the back of your head, but adrenaline keeps you moving forward. You finally dive under the table and ride out the end of the earthquake.

Moments after the shaking subsides, you hear three sets of footsteps running up the stairs. Mitch bursts into the room first, Sarah and Harry right behind him.

“Love, are you okay?” Sarah asks as she helps you out from under the table.

“Yea, I just think something hit my head,” you reply and glance around the room. On the floor is a large decorative vase that normally stands in a recessed shelf on the wall. You point to it and say, “That. I’m fairly certain that hit the back of my head.”

“Let me see,” Harry says, his hand going to your hair. You hiss in pain, and he pulls back. “Shit,” he quietly breathes out, and you all look at him. His fingertips are red and wet. Blood. Shit is right. You’re definitely bleeding.

“How do you feel?” Sarah asks.

The adrenaline is wearing off, and that, mixed with seeing physical evidence that you’re injured, has the pain finally setting in.

“My head’s starting to hurt,” you reply. “And I feel a little bit dizzy.”

“You need to go to the hospital,” Mitch says. “C’mon, I’ll drive.”

Harry helps you stay steady all the way out to the car. You assure everyone you’re fine, it’s just a scratch and a headache, but the three of them don’t listen. They rush out of the house, stopping only to grab shoes and a towel to hold over the wound. Mitch drives, Sarah is in the passenger seat, and Harry is in the back next to you, keeping pressure on the cut.

On the drive over you start to feel nauseous. It’s manageable at first, but steadily gets worse. There’s nothing in the car to be sick into, and you ask Mitch to pull over. You guys are literally on the freeway, and you can tell Mitch isn’t comfortable with stopping there, but then he sees the panic on your face and does as you’ve asked. He finds a safe spot and pulls onto the shoulder.

The second the car is in park you open your door and lean out, throwing up on the side of the road. It’s not a fun feeling, but you do feel a bit better once you’re done. You get back in the car and roll the windows down, hoping fresh air will help.

Just before driving off, you look out the window, and something you see just ahead has you laughing.

“What’s happening right now, why are you laughing?” Sarah asks. You look at the concerned faces of your girlfriend and boyfriends and say, “Please look at where we are right now,” while you continue to laugh.

You can tell when they all see it. Because they join in laughing. Just ahead is an iconic sign stating, “Harry Styles threw up here”.

“What are the fucking odds of that?” Mitch says in disbelief.

“Someday, someone’s going to ask us how me and Harry knew we were right for each other,” you say. “And I am absolutely going to tell this story. Because obviously we’re soul mates if we’ve both randomly thrown up on the exact same stretch of LA freeway.”

“Damn straight we are,” he says with a laugh. “But your head is still bleeding a bit so let’s get moving again.”

Mitch and Sarah immediately shift back into worried mode along with Harry, and you hold back a giggle at how protective they always are over you. Even if you feel they’re sometimes a bit too much, truthfully you love how well they take care of you.

Sarah goes into the hospital with you, hoping you’ll stay more under the radar than if Harry was inside. It’s pretty crazy in the emergency department, the earthquake causing a good number of minor injuries, but they move as efficiently as possible.

Sarah holds your hand as they use glue and your own hair to close the small laceration on your head. You’re fascinated to learn that there’s a technique to close head wounds using a patient’s own hair as sutures. But if the squeamish look on Sarah’s face is anything to go by, she doesn’t share this thought. Luckily you don’t have a concussion, and the dizziness and nausea were just from losing blood.

You’re relieved to finally get back home. It’s unsurprising that Harry, Sarah, and Mitch all dote on you for the remainder of the day.

Nearly a year and a half later another earthquake hits. This time all four of you are in the dining room, and you barely have a moment to process what’s happening before arms wrap around you and pull you under the table. Mitch holds you tight, Harry doing the same to Sarah next to you, and you make it out of this one with no injuries.

A couple weeks after that you do a podcast with Harry. Sure enough, the woman hosting asks about when you two knew you were meant to be. Harry sees your smirk and begins to laugh before you even start the story of your first earthquake experience.

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AN: Thanks for reading! Hope the science about earthquakes and hair apposition technique is right lol

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz@fictionalmensblog@buckybarnessimpp

#harry styles x reader #mitch rowland x harry styles #mitch rowland x reader #mitch rowland x sarah jones x reader #sarah jones x reader #sarah jones x mitch rowland x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you

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onigiriico · 1 year

Text

Shidou audio drama (t2) - English TL

[ links: Spotify / Youtube ]

Thank you Shidou for going on a deep dive into both medicine and law in one drama. I have not learned this much new vocabulary in a while lmao (Jokes aside though, I do hope that I managed to get through this without any major errors! As always, if you find any mistakes anyway or just have questions, feel free to bring them to my ask box or my Twitter ✨)

Also, there's a direct quote from the Japanese criminal law at one point in this vd - the translation of that line is based on this translation of Japanese law.

⬇️ full voice drama translation under the cut ⬇️

(door opens)

E: It’s been a while, Shidou.

S: Orbital floor fracture on the right. Traumatic retinal detachment. Bruising. Lacerations. Partial fracture of the thorax. This is Kajiyama-kun’s present condition.

E: I know that. I didn’t anticipate Kotoko’s behavior, either. For now, I’ll be taking the opportunity of this second trial to judge–

E: Fuuta’s…

S: Shiina-kun’s is even worse. Head lacerations. Bruising all over her body. Left anterior compression fracture. A sprained neck. Fractured ribs. Further fracturing to the left arm. And furthermore… this may be outside of my profession, but her mental health is deteriorating as well.

E: Mahiru…

S: Both their minds and bodies are at their limits. Let’s stop this already, Es-kun. A lot has happened while you were gone. At this rate, someone might end up dead.

S: That’s not what I mean! I think we should put an end to Milgram as a whole. Both for our sake and for yours.

E: …That’s impossible.

S: Why?

E: I can’t think of any method of stopping it… or any way to get out.

S: …!

E: Milgram won’t end just because I want it to. That’s all I know. It won’t end until your judgment is complete. That’s the core of it.

S: You’re… the same as us, aren’t you? You just got caught up in a bigger picture.

E: Don’t lump me in with you! You’re an inmate, I’m the Warden. Now that I’ve started this, I intend to see it through until the end.

S: Es-kun…

E: Anyways, your eyes sure have gained some life since we last saw each other. Back then, you always wore an expression that made it hard to tell whether you were alive or dead, but…

S: Is that so?

E: Is it because you’ve received the result of the first trial…?

S: About that… I’ve been thinking that I would like to hear your thoughts. Why did you forgive me? Even though I asked not to be forgiven.

E: Why would the Warden listen to what a prisoner tells them? I decide based on my own standards.

S: You saw my true self, didn’t you? There ought to be very few people who have killed more than I have. In comparison to me, the prisoners who weren’t forgiven have also hardly done anything wrong.

E: You’re a doctor. I’ve deduced that your murders happened in the context of medical procedures.

S: …

E: Organ transplants… in other words, the act of removing organs from braindead patients. That’s what your murder is. Am I wrong?

S: I see. So that’s what was shown in the footage?

E: Not that straight-forward, of course. But from the information given, we came to the conclusion that this is the most likely scenario.

S: Hm? ‘We’...?

E: …

S: You said ‘we’ just now...

E: …Did I… say that…?

S: Yes.

E: …Fine. Don’t worry about it. Let’s get back to the topic. The topic of what I deduced, that is.

S: It’s impressive, isn’t it… Milgram… After all this time, I won’t try to deny it being a top class prison, but it really is the real thing.

E: Is that your way of saying I was right?

S: Well… About halfway, I would say.

E: Hmph. Either way, I judged that murders as the result of medical practices could be forgiven. Without regard to what you were hoping for.

S: …

E: I intend to investigate in my own way. Whether or not it’s okay to regard braindead patients entirely as dead… it seems that this has become an increasingly controversial topic in recent years.

S: You’ve done your research.

E: I don’t care about the discussions of your world, though. I decided that you could be forgiven. That’s enough.

S: … Why is that?

E: In the first place, getting involved with organ transplants is part of your job as a doctor. I doubt it’s something that you did out of your own free will.

S: I… I took a lot of pride in my work. I considered it a good deed. I wouldn’t say I didn’t do it out of my own will.

E: Well, you did it to save people, didn’t you? In truth, there must have been a fair amount of people whom you did save with it.

S: I thought so, too. Doing it for a good cause without a single doubt.

E: In exchange for the life of a person who has no option left but to await death, you can save a person who has the chance to live on, right? In that case, you shouldn’t even have to think twice.

S: I thought so, too… arrogant as I was.

E: Is that to say that you don’t think that way anymore?

S: Yes, that’s right. You know, I… continuously tried to persuade the relatives of a braindead patient who were against organ transplants. Giving them reasons like the ones you just mentioned, Es-kun. “In order to save the life of someone you don’t know, please let me kill your family,” I told them. It doesn’t even take much thinking to realize how cruel that is, but… I didn’t realize it until the very end.

E: … Isn’t that just a placebo? I would think that family ties play no role in that context.

S: Do you still feel that way if it’s your own family?

E: …

S: Es-kun, is your family alive and well?

E: I don’t know… I don’t remember.

S: Is that so? I’m sorry about that.

E: It’s fine. It’s not like I feel any particular way about something I don’t even remember. Besides, I don’t think my judgment would change even if it involved my own family.

S: There’s no way.

E: Even if my family happened to end up imprisoned in Milgram, I would see my job through to the end.

S: Family is… special.

E: Huh?

S: Let’s digress for a moment. Have you studied criminal law?

E: Well, the most important parts at least. I’ve been learning about it since I started working as the Warden.

S: Excellent. So, for example, if someone harbors a criminal or tampers with evidence in order to protect that criminal, that is a crime in itself, right?

E: That’s articles 103 and 104.

S: You remembered well. Can you recall article 105 as well?

E: No… Are you familiar with it?

S: It’s not my area of expertise, but I remember it because it left a big impression on me. Article 105 states that, “when a crime prescribed under the preceding two Articles is committed for the benefit of the criminal or fugitive by a relative of such person, the relative may be exempted.”

E: So essentially, even if someone covered for a criminal or helped them out, they won’t be held legally responsible for it if the criminal is part of their family?

S: That’s right. For me, no matter whether it’s according to the law or in any other context, it’s only normal to help each other in a family.

E: That’s a very fascinating story. But even with all this, I still don’t get what you’re trying to say.

S: (chuckles) I wonder. Maybe I just wanted you to listen to it.

E: … As always, I can’t entirely wrap my head around you.

S: I’m talking about how, unlike you, I can no longer claim that I’m doing my work for a good cause. I’ve lost the right to.

E: And something happened that changed your mind?

S: That’s… right. Although you’ll probably be finding out about that once you watch the extracted footage.

E: Yeah. Let’s have a look.

S: Es-kun. I’ve killed a lot of people. Like I previously told you in the interrogation, I’ve killed for selfish reasons as well. So…

E: Are you about to beg me not to forgive you again? Even though I’ve already told you it’s no use?

S: That’s right. Please don’t forgive me… is what I would like to ask.

E: …

S: I… “I don’t want to be forgiven”. That feeling of mine remains the same. I need to be punished. I need to atone for my sins. I don’t think Milgram is in the right, but…! There is no better place than this to atone for my crimes. But… as long as Milgram continues like this… we won’t be able to save those who get injured if I don’t get forgiven!

E: …!

S: Even now, Shiina-kun is still in a condition where any digression could be fatal. She can’t live without my treatment. If I’m not forgiven, she will end up dying!

E: That’s… true, I suppose.

S: From now on, conflicts between the prisoners will probably become more frequent. If I’m not there… they will be in even more danger.

E: Shidou…

(machinery whirrs, bell rings)

S: I need to be punished… but I need to stay alive, or young lives will be lost. I… I don’t know what to wish for anymore. I’m starting to think… that I want to live. That I want to be forgiven. Despite being so riddled with sins…!

E: … Shidou. Do you remember what I told you?

S: …

E: Back when you were still fine with dying at any moment, I told you to desperately want to live. “Because we have an attachment to life, punishments for sins exist in the first place. Your existence in itself is a sacrilege to Milgram and myself,” I said.

S: Yes… I remember.

E: And now, finally, you’ve gotten attached to life and become a real prisoner of Milgram. That’s what I believe. You wanting to be forgiven, and your wish… those are the steps that now represent you.

S: … That won’t do… I mustn’t be forgiven. Otherwise… the countless lives I’ve taken will never be paid back.

E: Heh. If you’re really trying to give your life as compensation for the people you’ve killed, then there’s no reason to stay alive that will hold up, anyway.

S: …

E: Don’t face them with a life that you’re easily willing to throw away.

S: Es-kun, you’re a… strict… person, aren’t you?

E: I told you before, didn’t I? Because you’re the type of person I dislike the most.

S: (chuckles) It’s a pity. Since coming to Milgram, I’m being hated by children left and right. Even though I do like them.

E: Hmph. Like I care. But… but, you know…

S: Hm?

E: Thank you for saving Fuuta and Mahiru. I’m glad you’re here in Milgram, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart.

S: Es…kun…

E: That’s all. Prisoner no.5, Shidou – sing your sins.

#milgram #milgram music videos #milgram es #milgram shidou #shidou kirisaki #translation #fan translation #audio drama #this really was. a comparatively tame vd after all the wild ones we've had so far in this trial ngl

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benkeibear · 11 months

Text

⋆꙳✧༄ Oral pleasure

❖ Characters: Yuzuha, Senju, Hina

❖ Reader: genderneutral | AFAB

❖ Summary: You love to please your girl, going above and beyond just for their pleasure

❖ WARNINGS: sub!reader at Yuzuha, dom!leaning reader at Hina, fingering, oral (receiving and giving), face sitting, 69, a little Takemichi slander (sorry not sorry)

❖ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi!

☰Yuzuha:

ꕤ I kind of feel sorry for you

ꕤ Yuzuha is a little shocked to hear you begging to please her, not just ask, no you were full on whining and begging

ꕤ “Oh? You want to eat me out so bad, dove? Lay down pretty for me” she hums, a sweet smirk on her lips

ꕤ Of course you listen and lay down on her soft bed right away - fatal mistake now she knows how obedient and needy you are

ꕤ She laughs softly at how eager you are to have her sit on your face and wastes no time to take a seat

ꕤ Her wet cunt hovers just above your mouth yet you can't reach it. You feel the heat radiating off of it but her thighs keep you locked in place

ꕤ “you're almost drooling. So pathetic” she giggles and finally lowers herself, letting your tongue taste her arousal

ꕤ Yuzuha makes sure you enjoy yourself beneath her, your eyes shining and rolling back into your head

ꕤ right before she releases she grabs a fist full of hair and rides your face recklessly, her mind only on her pleasure and when you moan into her, these vibrations send her over the edge

ꕤ you can feel her thighs quiver around your head and her arousal leaking right onto your hot tongue

ꕤ it's almost suffocating you but when she starts grinding against your tongue again you know this will be a long night

☰ Senju:

ꕤ Senju almost gasps when you beg her to eat her out, not having expected that you're going to be this bold

ꕤ But who is she to deny you your sweet wishes?

ꕤ it all starts soft and gentle with her, kisses, feeling each other up and then she goes to sit on your pretty face - something she loves more than anything

ꕤ Your hands are resting on her hips and thighs, giving you the power to control her movements and to go at your own pace

ꕤ Senju leans back slightly, feeling herself floating up to cloud nine when your tongue dances over her clit

ꕤ between sweet moans you can hear her whimper how it's unfair- so unfair

ꕤ and before you know it, she turns around, grinding her sweet pussy back against your tongue but this time being able to dive into your own, giving each other pleasure

ꕤ She's a little menace, parting your lips and spitting on your clit before eagerly sucking on it while her tongue flicks over it

ꕤ Both of you get so lost in pleasure, letting each other orgasm over and over and eagerly lapping up your juices

ꕤ Senju gets so drunk on your pussy the same way you do with hers and it's almost impossible for either of you to stop - going until one has to tap out from overstimulation which is usually you

ꕤ But Senju never needs to worry, her eager little flower wont stop licking her cunt until she too had her fill

☰ Hina:

ꕤ Hina was quite shy when you - her best friend - proposed this idea to her in order to get over Takemichi (sorry my dude) who just couldn't treat her right

ꕤ She was rather hesitant but the thought of being this close with you - to feel what being eaten out is like made her heart beat faster

ꕤ when she agreed to this you beamed with happiness, eyes shining, grin widening

ꕤ Hina was laying on her back, hands covering her flushed face and only taking peaks at you between her thighs, kissing and nibbling at the soft flesh

ꕤ When your kisses finally reached ehr core she gasped, one hand reaching to clutch onto the bed sheets

ꕤ Sweet baby almost felt her soul leave her body when you started with just little kitten licks on her clit before dragging your tongue across her folds in a zigzag motion

ꕤ You felt like you just entered the gates of heaven, your tongue slipping into her entrance to taste more of her sweet arousal, growing addicted to her and her cute reactions

ꕤ Hina was mostly whimpering or moaning softly - such adorable moans, high in pitch, almost sounding shy

ꕤ When you started using your fingers to massage her g spot at the same time you caressed her clit with your tongue it was over for her

ꕤ She moaned your name like a prayer, broken but so heavenly as her hips had a mind of their own, grinding against your face

ꕤ When she seemed to have calmed down her hand traveled from her face to your head, gently pushing you closer to her heat

ꕤ She didn't want to say it out loud but her actions made it clear that she tasted a slice of paradise and wanted more - who knew Hina could be so needy?

Network: @tokyometronetwork

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #yuzuha x reader #hina x reader #hinata x reader #senju x reader #yuzuha smut #hina smut #hinata smut #senju smut #tr x reader #tr smut #tokyo revengers yuzuha #tokyo revengers hina #tokyo revengers senju #yuzuha shiba #hinata tachibana #senju kawaragi

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 2 months

Text

I Cherish You, Halcyon Days: prologue.

“You’re gonna die, kid. In the worst way possible.”

tags: afab!reader (she/her), angst, slow burn

pairing: gojou x reader + onesided!getou x reader

summary: You’re 15 years old when you’re told you’re going to die. You’re 17 years old when you realize who your killer will be. And you’re 17 years old when you make peace with the fact you wouldn’t want it any other way.

index | next chapter

In the summer of 1997 when I was 7, I almost drowned at the beach.

It was one of those summers where you watch a movie and things felt whimsical because you watched one movie about a group of kids going on a life-changing adventure you’d never go on yourself. You looked for magic in your daily life because even the smallest thing could be what led to you stumbling upon a new journey. My life-changing adventure movie? Free Willy, the movie about that foster kid and an orca. My aunt, a marine biologist, who showed me the movie always said the ocean was her greatest love. I got what she meant when I saw that movie. So that summer I spent at my aunt’s place in Enoshima was the summer I decided I’d go on some sort of adventure myself.

My expectation? Freeing Mina the beluga whale and swimming on her back to wherever the beluga whales came from. I would have even taken Kukki the dugong who I sometimes fed extra fish to when no one was looking.

What I actually got? Getting caught up in an undertow at Higashihama Beach.

Yeah, not my dream summer experience.

Undertow wasn’t a concept foreign to me at that time. Auntie warned me all about itー about how sometimes the currents below and above the surface went in separate directions.

“Don’t fight it when that happens,” she told me. “You’ll tire yourself out and drown. I know it’ll be scary but if you ever get caught in undertow, don’t fight. Go with the current and once it subsides, that’s when you swim back.”

That advice was far from my mind when I actually got caught in one though.

I screamed and thrashed and fought and fought, I probably pissed in the water twice too to boot.

And yet ー and I’m not entirely sure why ー a calm suddenly fell over me and I remembered Auntie’s words.

It would be scary, but don’t fight it.

Five minutes later, I swam back to shore and cried for ten minutes while my aunt held me.

Scary was one hell of an understatement.

I swore up and down I’d never go to the beach again. I never wanted to feel that scared again, never ever. My aunt didn’t disparage me for it, though. Didn’t tell me to toughen up. She simply took me to get shaved ice when I calmed down; said when you conquer your fear and come out on top, you should always treat yourself to something nice.

“It’s okay to be scared, [First],” she smiled softly. “Some people might say otherwise, but you know something, Auntie doesn’t think fear is a bad thing. Fear can be really good sometimes. Fear is what tells you not to do something that could lead to you getting hurt. It teaches you when not to do something stupid or dangerous. Sometimes, fear is what you should listen to instead of the ‘what if things actually go right’s. Fear only becomes bad when there’s too much of it. When you let being scared rule your life so you don’t live it.

“So it’s okay to be scared. Just promise auntie that you won’t let fear stop you from moving forward. Whether it’s rejection, worries a leap of faith will lead to you falling completely on your ass or that it might not be okay to say something when you know you should.

Live like you feel it and love like you mean it.

Don’t let the fear get to you.”

It took about a week before I was diving right back into the deep blue all over again.

Name: [Full Name] ♀ D/O/B: December 9, 1989 Age: 15

Sorcerer Lineage: Non-sorcerer lineage Enrollment method: Scouted

Recruiter: Yaga Masamichi

Notes: Student was encountered May 5, 2005

Testimony of the recruiter: At the site of Tsubame High School’s test of courage, a second grade curse appeared. [Last] activated her innate technique to protect herself and her fellow students and was able to keep the curse at a standstill until sorcerers arrived on the scene to exorcize the curse. While there were students injured, none of the injuries were fatal mostly due to [Last]’s quick application of her ability. According to the student, she began being able to utilize her innate technique around the age of 10.

Jujutsu

Student’s Innate Technique: Shields

“Rejection” Student’s abilities manifest as her cursed energy condensing into an object that rejects negative events outside of it effectively, creating shields of various sizes. This ability is one that is purely defensive and does not seem to have any offensive capabilities. As it stands, should the student make timely progress during the initial stages of her enrollment during this first year ー should she not disenroll or meet an untimely end ー it isn’t recommended to give her solo assignments.

Notes: “Rejection” is what the student in question chooses to refer to this ability as.

Interview Question Answer: “Why I want to enroll? Because I’m scared of this curse stuff.”

index | next chapter

#look she's writing #jjk x reader #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #getou x reader #geto x reader #i cherish you halcyon days #shout to my girl orihime for the power inspo i love you bbygrl

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sam-blackbird · 2 months

Text

An analyse of Umbrella Academy s4's posters (beware of s3 spoilers, ofc)

Hi! Today, the official Umbrella Academy Instagram account published season 4 posters, and since I'm very excited about this, I'm gonna try to analyse the posters, or what I can tell about them.

It's going to be long so grab a snack if you want / can, put on a cool playlist, and let's dive down! I'm going to do it poster by poster, in the order it was posted, from the oldest post to the newest (so not in numeral order).

We can notice that the characters are cut in two, the Portal way.

Anyway. First of all: Viktor !

Ngl, I had a moment when I saw he had the masculine uniform.

But past my joyful moment, my mind went racing so fast I couldn't keep it down, I had to share my thoughts (even if there may be only one person reading me, but whatever).

First thing first, it's interesting that the first one isn't Luther but Viktor, who is, the main character of the show (or at least, that's how I see it). Or a least the most important one. (if the last scene is Viktor ending his reading of his new book, about his siblings, not only would it be a fucking good epanadiplosis but it would make me cry the hell out of me)

After all, the show open with him, following him. And nothing would happen if it wasn't for him. He's the one trying to get the family stick together, and (unwillingly) starting apocalypse (twice or thrice, shit happens).

Let's focus on the poster now. On the left, we have a clothing reminding us of the Umbrella Academy days, or rather the "how it was before the show", except they are adult, and Viktor is here shown post-transition (and not pre-, as he was in the first two seasons). What does that mean? Fuck if I know. That being said, I think it have its importance (if they wanted to put children instead, they would have, wouldn't they?). However, we can note that he is not wearing neither the boy shorts (nor girl's skirt, for obvious reasons), but some secretly third option, aka a grey pant (is it the sport pant?). He is standing out himself, as a trans man (not wearing a skirt, yet not wearing the boy uniform either, as if he wasn't fully in that category somehow? idk).

Viktor's posture is straight (lol), and I associate it with being calm, obedient (he listen to everything Reginald says (ex: take these pills), and since Reginald is perceived as a father figure, it makes sense that Viktor wants to obey him, maybe hoping he (Viktor) will be loved and recognized as valuable). And also with being like a puppet. Or a muppet. The point is: He's not free of his movement, he doesn't have free will.

His face doesn't look happy. Nor sad. Just... neutral. He's just... there.

On the right, we can't see his face, yet his posture seems way more relaxed! He's wearing casual clothes, more modern ones, adapted to the world without powers they're now seems to live at the end of season 3.

His looks reminds me of the one of Tyler Ronan from Tell Me Why, a game by the studio Don't Nod (I fucking love that game). Both characters are trans man.

(This are pictures of Tyler. I had to restrain myself because we're not here from ma boi Tyler) (I have way too many pictures of that icon)

Anyway. Casual clothes. Blue, like the uniform. I won't analyse that, this post is already long enough.

Tbh, I haven't saw again the last episode of season 3, so I don't remember if it was the clothes they were wearing or new ones.

Also, Viktor is holding an umbrella in his right hand, probably a reference to the Umbrella days. Like, it's a part of him, he can't leave it behind, he physically have it with him (even if he doesn't have the power).

And the Umbrella is closed, unlike the ones from the previous seasons's posters.

Like, season 2's were opened (and full), and season 3's were opened and damaged (and they were hiding the protagonists' faces, showing implicitly the influence of the academy on them).

Next one, Luther !

We almost can see his face on the right!

But anyway, let's start by the left. Luther is walking, straight, in what could be either a military walk or a relaxed one (? don't quote me on this please, I can't explain). His posture screams "confidence" and "I'm number one, I'm a leader, follow me!". Or something like that, I'm no posture reader, just someone who watched way too much police and detective shows. He's wearing the Umbrella uniform (and it's so fucking weird to see it on a grown ass man!). His hair are cut short.

On the right, he's wearing a more casual look. There's something going one with his arm muscles, but I can't be bother to search what. His hair are longer than on the left. He is wearing gloves and an umbrella, and walking shoes. His umbrella is cutting his name (does it have some symbolism? Maybe.)

He's still wearing blue (like Viktor), even if it's a different kind of blue (and it kinda fit him).

Nothing more to add. (yes, I have my favorites, and despite liking Luther, I won't kill my eyesight anymore than necessary for details).

Next! Diego!

Let me preface this by saying that it's so fucking weird to see him in that uniform. On the left, he's walking like a good little soldier, following the leader.

On the right, he's the embodiment of a relax guy who can (and will) definitely yeet you out of the picture if needed. He's not wearing anything casual. It's more like a killer / soldier clothes, with his precious knifes.

DOES HE HAVE A MUSTACHE????

He's holding the Umbrella on the shoulder, as if he can't be bothered with it (and/ or he's gonna use it as a weapon).

Next! Not number 3, but the one who's linked to Diego! Lila!

Love that she's officially "Lila Hargreeves".

The left outfit is like the one she had in season 2 when she was with the Handler and stuff about her past was revealed (so interesting and meaningful choice of outfit). Her heels are thin, as if she wasn't stable (with her life situation and all).

Yet, on the right, her heels are thicker, more stable to move (she's more free to go).

Her clothes are modern and the flowers fit her really well, I might say. Her hair are put up, like the active badass woman she is. They're brown again, and not white/ blond anymore, it's more natural (I can't really argue, my hair are currently pink).

She overall looks like a business woman, with a casual chic.

She too, is holding an umbrella, which make her fully part of the family. She hold it casually.

Next, another girl: Allison.

Ngl, I'm no big fan of hers, so this will be short.

On the left, she's confidently wearing her UA (Umbrella Academy) uniform. Her hand move don't really feel natural (saying this as someone who sometimes draws human beings). Her hair are like the one from season 1.

On the right, she looks like a business woman and a mom. Her posture looks aslo determined, while relaxed. She have business to do, and no one will stop/ prevent her from doing so!

Girl power and all that.

(I'm trying, I really can't stand how her character was wrote during season 3)

Neeeeext! Let's go with one of my fav, Klaaaaaaus!

I have to say, it is criminal that a) his hair are short on th right side (loved his long hair) and b) where's the skirt?! He slayed in it! Anyway.

On the left, his walking looks very mechanical, as if he was a machine, a robot (lol) (I won't do any joke about Grace). Yet, his posture his not natural (no one walks naturally torso in one way and legs in another, if that makes some sense) (that reminds me kinda of the extravagant way drag queens walk on the runaway, for shows, but I may be extrapolating a little).

His eyes are closed. Why are his eyes closed? I'm scared. His face is still like the one of a dead person. Resigned. Accepting his fate. But after all, Klaus had always been closed to death, more or less metaphorically speaking, as he can see ghosts (= dead people, or what remains of them).

His hair are all over the place, reminding the crazy days he had to get fucking blasted to avoid said ghosts.

Right side is colorful. He's beauty, he's grace, WHERE ARE HIS HAIR?! No but more seriously, cutting one's own hair symbolise change in many culture, and more specifically letting go of the past, embracing new beginnings, and/ or undergoing spiritual or personal transformations. I have no idea how to interpret that.

He seems to float, to ascend (plz don't kill him). He is bare foot (bare feet? idk) (fun fact: in the comics, he could only use his power when sober and with bare feet) (I won't go down the rabbit hole of barefoot symbolism and its link with death, I'm not mentally well enough to do that).

He his wearing a yellow coat with flowers (flowers, like Lila!). Yellow is associated with joy, fest, sun (and Klaus is a comic relief, a feel good sunshine character), and flower, life. (again, plz don't kill him)

What reinforce that idea of tragedy is that the umbrella he's wearing is the only one who isn't black: it's the umbrella he was holding during Reggie's funeral in s1. Plus, he's holding it with three fingers out. What's the meaning of three? Idk. Maybe it’s for Allison? Maybe it has a link with God (the Christian one)? Yk, Holy Trinity and all that. After all, doesn't Klaus met God (the little girl in the afterlife) regularly?

Does that look good or bad for Klaus? No idea.

Speaking about looking good, Ben is back, alive. I won' t go far enough to say "well", but he's alive.

On the left, he's standing straight, walking in a unnatural posture. Following only.

On the right, he bent (idk why tho). His clothes are casual (and looking alike the one Viktor had been wearing during s3). His umbrella also cut his name (like Luther's). He's a Vans' boy!

(please, no mustache for him)

We can't see if he's wearing glasses or not.

Last of the Hargreeves kids (if you count Lila as one, and if not, last one of the power-gifted Hargreeves): Five.

On the left, his posture is haughty. His hands are in his pants pockets. He know what he wants, he is very sure of himself, maybe because he thinks he is better than everyone (he can think that, given what happened) (some might even say he have a bratty attitude, but I'll answer, well have you seen him during season 1???)

(my personal theory is that he is bend forward to be smaller on the left than on the right)

On the right, he left the UA uniform for a more formal suit (some call it 'the grandpa / old man suit'). His hair are longer.

He's walking down like he had no shit to give anymore (he doesn't) and he's ready to throw hands (he totally his).

HOLY (S)HIT HE'S HOLDING THE UMBRELLA IN HIS RIGHT HAND! Why? Why is he te only one wearing the umbrella on the other hand? Is it to accentuate his difference with his siblings (+ Lila)? Is it to show how differently he see his time at the UA an how differenlty he uses his powers? I mean, given he didn't spend as much time in the UA as the rest of them, ofc his vision and perception of the UA is different. Even his vision of time is different.

And now.

BEWARE! THE REGINALD JUMPSCARE! (or is it scare jump? Anyway, I've been working on this post for more than an hour and a hlaf, plz be indulgent, it's late and the day had been long)

On the left, we see the whole umbrella for the firs time on these posters.

Reggie is wearing blue (reminding of the UA uniform). He is young looking, and seems well assorted (who tf have two jacket pockets on the same side tho?)

Edit: his suit is actually more lilac/ purple, which is a color hard to dye (so it costed a lot and was reserved for royalty / rich ppl) (before industrialization and the use of chemical products for clothes dye; and we know Reggie arrived/ was on Earth on 19th c., so during the industrialization)

On the right, he's old and wearing a brown suit. Brown can symbolize the Earth. Earth can provide and ppl are depend on it to eat and therefore survive. In a way, he was a Earth for his children, as they were dependent on him (does that makes him a good father? Absolutely not!). (that thought, of Reggie being a Earth, is funny given he is an alien / an extraterrestrial)

And if you put them all in order, you get :

(notice how Klaus's picture / posture melt greatly in Five's?)

And that's it! Damn, that was long. Don't hesitate to let me know what you think about all of that in the comment!

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