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1800titz · 1 year

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Hi all! This is my story off of Wattpad, but I figured I would put it up on tumblr, too! The WC for this part is 9K ٩(◕‿◕)۶

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When Harry was twenty two, if he'd been told by some freakish, time-traveling clone of himself that his Friday nights would be spent wearing a Greek moniker in the form of a fetishized allusion, garbed by a latex mask for total anonymity, he'd probably get a head start for padded walls and a straight jacket.

Do himself a favor with that one.

But if he were told the same thing at twenty three, he'd probably sit back in his arm chair and swirl his whiskey with excitement. Twenty three was an eventful year. Afterall, he'd started drinking whiskey and opened his eyes to the allures and realm of kink. Very good year, that one.

Twenty-four, and twenty-five, and twenty-six were all sort of a blur, an incognizant reminiscence of whiskey and sex and work. Twenty-seven is today, in the process, in the flesh. Today, Harry is twenty-seven, and he spends his Friday nights playing dress up and sex up under a funny little pseudonym. That of the Greek God of love, in fact, (how fitting?), and he wields a leather flogger and dons a rubber hood. The flogger, sometimes — the hood, always.

On Monday, on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, Harry is just Harry Styles; charming, eligible bachelor with the allure of eastern hemisphere roots, closeted pro nudist, valiantly contending realtor in the heart of San Francisco. On weekdays, he's the person who will always buy the homeless man with the sullied soles who's perched by the cafe a croissant with his own respective coffee order. He'll help the older woman with the walker cross the street. He'll pay for the person behind him in a drive-through. On Tuesdays, like clockwork, he'll wave from his mailbox, clad in his briefs, and say good morning to his neighbor, Ed, who comes out in wrinkly, plaid pajamas to snag his own mail in the mornings. Every morning, he'll drive to the office and pass three of the seven benches in the city with his pretty face and his pretty mouth and his pretty teeth plastered to it. A showcase, an innocuous illusion. An irony.

On Friday mornings he'll slip the black duffel back into his trunk. He'll drive to the office, make some phone calls, maybe show a house, grab a plastic kit of chewy cookies from Cal-Mart for prospective buyers, maybe eat one on the way. In the evening, afterwards, he'll park his Range Rover on a backstreet and take off his rings, one by one. He'll don his ultra-thin, ultra-stretchy, faux leather gloves. He'll grab his black duffel out of the trunk. He'll take a short walk to a shoddy-looking building on the corner, where the sidewalk has chips and weeds tuft between the cracks. He'll shroud the same pretty face that's pasted to a bench only a couple of blocks away and hide it beneath dark, smooth latex and zippers.

On Friday nights, Harry is Eros, and he makes faceless bodies bend and writhe under his will at his fingertips. Sometimes he watches, but he always plays. When he plays, he makes those other faceless bodies spill with pretty, little moans and cries. He makes them beg for his mercy. The latter always falls on deaf ears. Especially when he's wielding the flogger.

It's always safe, though. It's always fun, it's always sane, it's always consensual. It's cathartic; it's a release. On Fridays, he's the God of Love, and he gives unlove openly, for his pleasure and for the pleasures of his counterparts. He's cruel, and he's dark, and he's mean to those that are there for the same reasons as he is.

They love it when he's mean.

Harry loves Indulge. He loves indulging, afterall. The sobriquet is fitting. Of course, he loves playing. He loves watching the women squirm and thrash and twist under his attention, he loves that he can fulfill his desires through stringless mutualism. But he enjoys far less exciting aspects nearly as much as he enjoys playing pretend. He loves the anonymity of the club. He loves the barriers and the strict boundaries, the protective measures all for the sake of harboring true identities. A sorely lackluster quality; he loves the consent forms, and the rest of the lengthy paperwork. He loves that the club is inconspicuous and incredibly difficult to wheedle into the midst of. He loves that Indulge is his hidden gem. He doesn't love that he's someone else for the night, because that's not quite it, at all. That man with the latex mask and the man whose dimples are illustrated on the bus stop benches are the same man. The man with the line of zippers across the eyes and the mouth on Friday nights, is the same man who waves to Ed in the mornings. It's the same man who'll grin and chat pleasantries at an open house. Look at the crown-molding, isn't the character in this quaint, little slice of heaven on the water brilliant?

That man is Harry, and he loves that Indulge allows him to tap into that otherwise cached fragment of himself with no inhibitions.

Harry drums his lengthy digits against the bar top and observes the prolific nightlife that Indulge has to offer. He never drinks. It's all mocktails and alcohol-free beverages, anyhow. Alcohol stifles the senses — and Indulge leaves no room for error. But sometimes he plays the part of a little voyeur, poised at the bar, and tonight he focuses on a particular scene across the room through the unzipped eye slit in the latex disguise. A woman, whose hands are bound by the wrist to sturdy columns by shackles, wriggles and jerks, moaning under the assault of her partner. He tugs on the chain that dangles from her clamped nipples and she twists in a pretty little arch, pushing her tits forward. Harry hasn't seen her here before, at least not in the window of his weekly visitations. He knows them all by mask and telling body parts; there's masks with horns, and hoods, and cat ears, and glitzy masquerade guises with feathers and rhinestones. There's birthmarks and moles and scars. He knows them well. It's the same reason he doesn't play without clothes, the same reason his hood covers his face, his hair, the same reason he wears the pleather gloves. Harry covets full obscurity, especially under the inky telltales that blot over his skin and the widespread reach of his career.

But he hasn't seen this mask before. It's lacy, like a pair of knickers, and shrouds the woman's eyes and nose. There are no peepholes in her cover, just swirls of skimpy black fabric that are more than likely easier to see through than it is to see past. The only aspects of her face on display are her lips, which are a ruddy, natural shade of pink, and her chin. When her play-partner manhandles that same jaw between his fingertips, squeezing at her cheeks and imploring her to suckle at the thumb of his free hand, she keeps the muted berry sealed in a lack of subservience. Harry ogles, wryly amused as her partner yanks one of the clamps off by the chain and the young woman nearly shrieks. The dominant uses the opportunity to slip his thumb into her mouth and her keen morphs into a moan. He doesn't know what the man tells the woman as he dips his face against her hair, but whatever it is has the woman's cheeks hollowing and her hips canting. The man takes a step back and pats at her cheek. Harry's surprised to see, a few moments later, when the man attempts to slip his fingers into her knickers (her actual ones, not the flimsy article dubbed a mask), the woman clamps her glistening thighs together. The man says something, withdrawing his thumb entirely, and the lace-shrouded woman shakes her head and refuses to relent. Harry swallows, shifting in his seat. They go on like this for a while, a back and forth, with the woman attempting to siphon the upper hand with small misdeeds and acts of insubordination.

There's little to be disappointed with in the sphere of Indulge. Perhaps his only objection, an odd one at that, would be a lack of indiscipline. His partners in play were always satiating. They loved the way he played, and imbibed with open arms and open mouths and stuck-out tongues. They were good; obedient, and sometimes, just a smidge too much. At times, Harry would catch himself yearning for a partner in play who challenged him, goading him into the water a little further. It was satisfying to spank a girl for being unable to hold off an orgasm, but the infraction was an almost entirely unevadable body function. Though, at times he'd procure a demand and pine for his partner to defy him. Disappointed wasn't exactly the right term to describe what he felt when a scene went smoothly. It wasn't that at all. But he craved the power struggle. He found himself longing for a girl beneath him that wanted to disobey, that wanted to be put in her place. Sometimes Harry just wanted a brat to break.

Lacy mask, Harry notes, toys at the line, and at times like this, Harry wishes Indulge would allow him to nurse an alcoholic beverage. Wishes for drinks and a show.

Isla Cleery was a refined young woman. She'd grown up an only child under the aristocratic guidance of her father's guide and her mother's steely gaze of gray, judgment dancing in the irises like blue flecks of fire. Her habits and customs had been nourished by the outstanding prominence, the long lineage of encouraging perfection. She spent too much time juggling deadlines and working ahead, too much time organizing her bookcase, back and forth from alphabetical to chronological to colored, her desk, her calendar, her life. She'd graduated from UCLA a couple of semesters early, simultaneously gaining an otherwise impressive achievement and managing to garner disappointment from her parents that she hadn't opted for Yale, afterall. She'd interned under limited seating, a prestigious opportunity sought after by a multitude of her peers, and her transition from intern to paralegal had shifted smoothly enough. Life was short, live a little, her friends had always told her as she buried her nose in books and sunk neck-deep into research. Have fun. Enjoy pleasures.

Stress was inescapable, an obligatory, impending function under the wrath of adulthood. Bills, deadlines, meetings, appointments. As long as Isla could remember, she'd been granted limited control to garner and encompass entire control. Successful. Studious. Responsible. The perfect student. The perfect daughter.

Christ.

She had a plethora of scheduled-months-ahead therapy appointments, simply for the sake of evading succumbing to the urge to rip her own skin off, at times. Responsibility was pressed onto her from a young age, and as she'd bloomed under the looming cloud of her own dissatisfaction with achievements, there was little to find comfort in. She'd always been told her twenties ought to be a strange blip of frantic confusion melded with surefire assurance in her timeline. Sometimes, Isla felt the only thing that would make her happy was being a small child, again. If only for a moment.

The latest task pressed upon her schedule was finding a house. No more shoddy apartment for you, her father had jested, imploring her with a hefty donation. Despite her gratitude, the thought of milking mommy and daddy's pockets, even by their own volition, made something uncomfortable churn in her stomach. She was a woman! She was her own, independent woman, with her own career, and her own head on her shoulders, a solid one, and she wanted to cut that banner by her own means. Afterall, she'd been coaxed to strive for entirely independent successes. And despite all of Isla's successes, there was little to soothe that ravaging beast within her. The one whose knees buckled beneath the pressures.

Indulge was an escape. It was her escape. She spent her weekdays poring over tedious documentation and mind-numbingly developing reports, pupils weeding and flitting through word searches to build cases under notoriously long, underpaid hours. Isla enjoyed working. She enjoyed nourishing a task beneath her fingertips and aiding in its processes and growth. She enjoyed the sense of achievement upon completing a task. She enjoyed success, she enjoyed recognition, she enjoyed commendation. But it was stressful. Working in law was stressful, being a woman was stressful, being Isla was stressful. Her job spilled into her weekends, at times, and as of late, those weekends were spent toiling over legal paperwork and wrapping up loose ends. It's the same reason her Indulge rendezvous were transferred to Fridays from Saturday nights, and she gave herself Sundays to pore over her work, and Saturdays for the come down from Fridays.

When Isla had discovered the otherworldly, healing capabilities of kink, she'd been a bright eyed girl with anxiety over passing exams. Her world was far less mentally taxing, and her chrome search history had things like pain and crying sex and submission. She'd experimented behind closed doors with boyfriends her parents had no knowledge of, who'd touch her with fingertips that'd wipe the stress and tension away like gunk off a windshield. They'd please her, and they'd make her feel nice by taking away some of that control, but she was only experimenting and eventually, like a perceptual intake of a low-dose prescription, their gentle touch just wasn't enough. She remembers the first time she'd asked one of those boyfriends to hit her with his belt, vividly, and he'd gawked at her, mortified and wide-eyed, as if she'd grown three heads.

Perhaps one of Isla's most esteemed hobbies was research. Strange hobby to have, even stranger to excel at it, but her expertise at perusing and pondering documents not only allowed her to wax among the office, but definitely allowed her to delve further into understanding what exactly she was craving. So, then came the articles. The virtual, the physical. Wikipedia, forums, even some google scholar pieces. She used her library card to grasp and pore over everything from BDSM: How to Take Your First Steps to Playing Well With Others to The New Bottoming Book to Whips & Chains: How to Like Them Safely. Her first encounters with the actual inner depths of kink were a bit dicey, looking back. Play Luv, the dating app that catered to every interest, from swingers to paypigs to shoddy "doms" looking for "slaves" (their profile pictures were always a grainy set of abs and a veiny hand palming over a belt), was as dubious as it got. Which. No surprise there. It was called Play Luv and was readily available for download to every schmuck perusing through the app store, and the only proper safety measure implemented was a mandatory ID scan for age verification. Honestly, Isla was lucky that realization had dawned within a handful of swipes, and she wasn't naive nor nearly desperate enough to entertain the tens of horny private messages that flooded her inbox upon registration. So, Play Luv had been a bust.

Then, came Artemis. Her first, true interaction with a real dom (and not a horny blockhead in his mid-twenties with the sole aim of getting his dick wet post watching some kinky porno on xvideos) stemmed from a private internet forum. Which, arguably, just as questionable, but. Whatever. Dan Sever — that was his real name, and thinking back on it, even going as far as to meet up with him, a stranger from the internet, under the pretense of being tied down and whipped was beyond questionable.

Isla wasn't an idiot. Young, immature, naive at the time, certainly — but never entirely an idiot. She'd met with Dan Sever in a public location on numerous occasions subsequent to a lengthy session of internet stalking. Yeah, it was a little weird, a bit creepy on her part, some may say, but Isla was cautious, and if she had to be Joe from You for her own safety, it was the defining quality between her own young, foolish natures and an idiot. Their company, at first, was a set of platonic encounters entirely composed of conversation. Frozen yogurt dates, lunch in a bustling diner, two people talking with entirely pure intentions, keen to learn each other. Dan was a nice guy. He was in his late twenties, they shared common interests, hobbies, they meshed well. They talked about books. Dan loved books. And that was the thing — Dan liked books and going to museums and dogs. His favorite food was strawberry cheesecake and he spent some of his free time watching George Lopez reruns. He was a totally normal guy outside of a particular interest in tying his partners up and hitting them with a belt in bed, or something, just like Isla. All of these people were, and that made her feel a little less weird. He wasn't interested in anything particularly romantic, nothing beyond friendship and a mutualistic sexual relationship, but neither was Isla.

He had been her introduction into contracts, limits, palpable documentation beyond her own scope of research, and he had been the critical connection between herself and Indulge. They played together, at first, and solely with each other for a little while. But, they'd discerned, within only a few conversations, that they were not an idyllic fit beyond friendship and sex, so it came as no surprise that, eventually, their paths would delve into opposing directions when faced with a fork. Eventually, Dan stopped coming to Indulge and Isla didn't, but by then, she'd outgrown the need for mentorship and a set of shoes to follow, so it didn't really matter. And eventually, most of everyone who would regularly attend the club on the same days as her knew of Peitho.

That was Isla's handle on Friday nights — Peitho. Goddess of persuasion, deity of seduction, personification of desire. The submissive that would do any and everything to sway her partner, the one who would stop at nothing to play in her own interests. The sub whose pleasure was always mingled with pain, either by request or by consequence. Arguably, much more interesting than Paralegal Isla Cleery on the weekdays, in Isla's opinion.

It's a Friday. This is her fun. These are her pleasures.

Isla practically skips to the bar from the hallway. No. She makes her way, gait cool and composed, a sway in her hips as the pads of her feet roll over the laminate, heel to toe. Peitho has no clinging, childish characteristics. She's barefoot and wears an onyx matching set of lacy underthings that match her mask, and not much else, but the dress code ranges from button downs with cufflinks and slacks, remnants of a workday, sat at the bar in the lounge, to those whose masks cover far more than their pasties do. There's a nude woman tethered to a post in the middle of the floor, a riding crop wandering over her swarthy skin. Nobody bats an eye at Isla's garb. Her backside stings wonderfully, and beneath her mask, she glows. There was always a warmth that radiated from her after a scene, even post the gentle touch and soft croons and praises of aftercare. It's the same reason she opts for a full twenty four hours for the come down.

"A cherry mojito, please," Isla requests from the bartender, leaning against the counter on her forearms, "And, uh, as many cherries as you can." She tacks on, for good measure, "Please."

The bartender, like the members, wears a mask that obscures his eyes. His mask, however, has no tinges of character or personality, an echo of the simple black eye covering that the rest of the staff don. He's clad in all jet, and if Isla didn't know him as Felix, a stage name or not, she's unsure, she'd be intimidated by the combination of his attire and his curt nod as he turns.

Unlike Felix, the mysterious man sitting in the bar stool beside her seems to have an unwavering attention span, and the bore of his unfamiliar mask sends a rippling wave of endorphins climbing up her spine. He's spiffy in business casual attire, and she's not sure if his outfit clashes with the mask or fits it too well. It's a hood, it hides his face, his hair, his neck, and there are two openings — a zipper for his sight, and a zipper for his taste. Oddly, it's a very submissive sort of hood — one typically to be worn and zipped and unzipped at a dominant's discretion, but there's not a trace of submissive air to him. Weirdly, he looks more executioner-y than like a man who'd enjoy being locked in a cage. Isla side-eyes him a bit through her lace, well aware that he can't fathom the gesture through her disguise. Like a daunting villain from a film, the shadow beneath the thinly unveiled zippers offers no insight — besides his eyes. She can see those, faintly, glimmering in the lighting. If the openings showcasing his jade irises didn't offer her the perspective of his eye contact, brazen in their incessant peer, she'd think he was staring off past her. He's not. His gaze is curiously calculating, inspective, piercing. But he doesn't say anything. Isla twiddles her thumbs over the marbled counter. Felix sets her mocktail in front of her wordlessly. There's a heaping pile of cherries that mounts from the bed of the rocks glass past the lip, so much so that the apex of the mountain could overflow and send syrupy, bright red spheres rolling off with any trace of sudden movement.

"Thank you," the young woman cups the beverage carefully, intent on wandering a few seats away to enjoy it, but The Executioner suddenly opts to break the silence, coaxing her into conversation.

"I take it you like cherries?"

She blinks, surprised by the jesting warmth of his cadence, her head snapping to face him. It's not the opener she'd expect from a man donning such an intimidating mask, and his timbre is friendly. Sexy and deep, inflection carrying notes as evidence of origins from the opposite hemisphere. He's tilted his head at her, now, an obvious signal that he's awaiting a response. Isla clears her throat, eyeing her excessive mound of fruit.

"I - yeah. They're alright, I guess," she jokes, but there's no humor lacing the syllables nor a trace of a smile on her mouth. She's still a little caught off guard that The Executioner speaks and doesn't just obtrusively gawk as if he's fixing to peel her skin away, piece by piece.

His pupils stray to her mouth as she plucks a cherry and stuffs it past her lips.

Harry knows she likes cherries because he'd watched her order the same beverage exactly a week prior, the first night he'd seen her so copiously defiant, even tied by her wrists to the columns, curiosity outweighing his instincts to not be a stalkerish weirdo imbibing her habits. There was an allure to her. He'd watched her get the same rocks glass with the same plethora of cherries, so many that the mocktail concoction was just a syrupy bath for the fruit, and he'd watched her cull a few, one by one, before he'd torn his gaze away and gone off to play.

She wears a collar that conveys her preferred role of submission, but there is no lock on it, nor does she wear a bracelet that submissive members of the club would wear to symbolize solid, fixed partnership — the emblem of a contract with a dominant, or perhaps more. No partner had stuck to her side at the bar last week, and this week, she's still as alone as she was, then. It pleases him.

Harry watches her body language, carefully, then tells her, timbre soft and joke-y, "I don't bite," and then he eyes her through his mask, tacking on, facetiously, "Unless I get consent."

That comment culls the twitch of her lips, and her own head cocks with the breakthroughs of a grin ghosting, "Of course. I know. Your mask is just..."

"My mask?"

The young woman bites into her cheek in obvious attempts to ward off a simper, "Yes, well. It's just a little ...intense."

The Executioner makes a show of glancing about himself then, clear enough in his facetious intentions as his gaze boomerangs back on her, and he says, "Are we?...We're at the same fetish club, I think."

Behind her mask, Isla rolls her eyes. The Executioner, adds on, in good-natured teasing, as she purses her lips, "But — let me know. I might be totally off, love."

"Yes, okay, right. Sorry," she waves with her hands animatedly, giving in to his jabs, "Everything is a little intense at Indulge. It's just," Isla faces him pointedly, "having a stranger ogle you silently from behind a mask that looks like it belongs in a horror movie is a little daunting."

"And you don't like being ogled?"

There's a different note to his cadence then, one that's just as playful, but it's flirty, if she's not mistaken, and knowing, like he's personally ogled her during a scene out in the lounge, like the one she'd taken part in last Friday, and that sends a different kind of thrill through her nervous system. She bites.

"No, I do," Lacy Mask smooths her fingertips over the edge of the counter, and the corners of Harry's mouth buckle crookedly, dimples indenting where she can't see. He's not going to lie and tell her that he's not scary, because he's quite self aware and knows he very much can be. But that's post negotiations and paperwork and all kinds of motions symbolizing consent.

"Are you a regular, darling?" the man swivels in the bar stool to face her, fully then. Isla casts her gaze to his interlocked fingers, laid against the counter, and she catches sight of dark gloves that cling to large hands.

She strums a cherry with her index and thumb, nodding in agreement as she pops it onto her tongue. The sweet, fruity explosion on her taste buds is nearly as satisfying as the pleasant, dull sting that radiates warmly from her abused backside as she hops up on the seat beside him.

"Mm. I used to do Saturday nights, but work has been," her dialogue trails and dies off on the back of her tongue as the flesh of the cherry slides down. Talking about her personal life in the scenery of the club feels like the ultimate disharmony. She nods earnestly as she swallows, "Yes, I'm a regular." Isla swipes her mouth with the back of her hand before she motions toward him with her free hand, "What about you?"

"Friday nights have been my thing for a few years," The Executioner tells her, and Isla's brows jump, but the lacy disguise stays still, just loose enough.

She takes a sip of her mocktail and clears her throat, her tongue swiping out over her plush bottom lip before she says, "Wow, you're a regular, regular. How long have you been coming to Indulge, then?" Harry watches that tongue.

"I think," a crease works its way between his brows as he considers, and his thumb grazes over the knuckle of the opposite, "coming up on three years, now. I got into a kink a little bit before that, but it was a lot more intimate and had a lot less stage names." The corners of his mouth jolt upon witnessing her own do the same in response to his comment, "What about you?"

"A couple years," Isla replies, waving with her palm as she speaks, "But I wasn't a regular, at first. Just, every once in a while I would come when I needed a," she traces the lip of the glass with a thoughtful fingertip, and she casts her gaze back to his mask as she tacks on, "Release. I'm twenty five, so I've only been legal to come here for a little longer than you've been a member, anyways."

Harry purses his lips, noting her implication towards the twenty-one and up limit, "So you dabble a bit, then."

Lacy Mask lifts a wry shoulder, "Dabble. Engross. Live it as a regular, weekly routine like clockwork. Breathe it like oxygen," she melts into soft giggles as the unlikely comparison of hobby to need wrests a laugh from him, "Same difference. But," the young woman shakes her head as her girlish laughter settles down, and she evens her tone, "I had a similar come up into kink. Like," she pauses, wetting her lips, a shade of muted berry, "you know, behind closed doors with boyfriends, at first, and all that. I started really getting into it around twenty."

Isla thumbs at the glass in front of her, "Hopped through forums and dating websites for a little, but you know how that goes. And then," she takes a deep breath, "I found Indulge, and," her shoulders fall out of the shrug as she exhales, "here I am."

"Here you are," Harry states, giving her an unabashed once-over, his cadence low and irrationally sultry to her ears. There are no binds to constrain his interest. If his flirtatious nature wasn't enough, his pique of conversation, the look he gives her certainly ties any loose ends on any questions regarding the topic.

"Mm, just," she lifts her glass for emphasis, in which the pile of cherries has considerably decreased in size, "Getting spanked and eating cherries."

"Optimal way to spend a Friday evening, if you ask me," Harry jokes, and the young woman cranes her neck back, chortling, and nods in vehement agreement as she takes a sip of her mocktail. He grins, "I mean, I prefer to do the spanking, but the cherries I could get behind."

"You should," she tells him, "You'd be surprised, but they actually have really good cherries here."

The man laughs. He doesn't offer to buy the drink; he's aware that the price will tack on to her member fee, that it'll float to the forefront of her tab, and he does so simply for the sake of avoiding sending some sort of implication that would lead her to believe she owes him something. She doesn't. He'd love to buy her glass of cherries plus mocktail concoction, but he doesn't.

"I'm sorry," Isla says, then, chewing on one of her last pieces of the blood red fruit, "I have to get your name, because right now, you're just The Executioner to me."

"The Executioner," the man shakes his head, and she hears what sounds like a huff of laughter from behind the shroud before he states, "S'a bit serial killer-ish, innit?"

"Probably," Isla shrugs, amused, and teases, "It's a bit of a serial killer-ish mask."

Harry eyes her through the daunting peephole, obnoxiously serial killer-ishly, and huffs, playfully, words that aren't all that playful given the setting, "Maybe I quite like The Executioner. What makes you think you've earned my name?"

The latex crinkles as he cocks his head.

Isla juts her chin, "I've shared my company with you in these critical cherry-eating times. You know, usually, I do this in silence."

She giggles when he tilts his head again, "Sorry, are you implying that I'm bothering you?"

Isla teases, leaning forward a bit, "Sorry, are the — do I just tug the zippers when I'd like for you to be quiet?"

Harry digs his tongue against his cheek, amusement wry. God, how he'd love to put her in her place.

On the topic, the mask was an irony in and of itself. The latex hood, scaled with zippers, was definitely meant for a submissive to wear — and it definitely aimed for the purpose Lacy Mask had implied; to be zipped and unzipped at a dominant's whim. Harry thought it was funny, in a way. A man with a reputation at Indulge like him, wearing a mask with an intended purpose like that. Funny, scary looking, and it hid any and all distinguishable traces in a way that a mask with a clasp wouldn't. The zippers, even unzipped, offered little vision to his eyes or lips from an outside perspective. It covered his hair, only able to be peeled back by a third zipper on the back of his head. And he quite liked the feel of leather and latex.

Anyways, he narrows his eyes at her through the shadows, playing along and laughing, "I'd prefer you didn't, actually. You're a bit of a brat, y'know that?"

Isla lifts her shoulder, feigning an entirely nonchalant nature, even as her heart slams behind her ribcage in want and laughs, "Yeah, that's kind of my thing."

"Mm," he hums, and jests, "That's how you'd like to talk to The Executioner, then?"

He's certainly flirting. That's Indulge-lingo-flirtation if she's ever heard it. And again, Isla lifts a shoulder and bats her lashes as best she can under the constriction of the lace, "I've always liked to play with fire."

His laugh is wry, a huff, a mere burst of air, and he turns away and shakes his head down at his glove-clad hands, "Well. I can certainly take a hint and leave you to your cherry endeavors, if that's what you'd like?"

He's baiting. She bites.

"Not at all. I'm glad The Executioner has decided to strike up a conversation with me, and I'm glad I took a leap of faith in entertaining the conversation."

The young woman waves with her hand, attempting to stifle her mirth with another cherry, "See how weird The Executioner sounds? It'd just be so much easier if you decided to share your preferred name."

Harry contemplates, biting into his cheek. He supposes he's pulled her leg enough to nearly dislodge it, "Tit for tat, I suppose. You've shared your time, I'll share my name. Eros."

Her irises glint with amused enthusiasm that his stage name shares Greek origins, like her own. The aliases of Indulge had no true requirements, so many went by biblical variations, or Roman, or Germanic, or Slavic, or Norse. Mythological, even, and some just went by Josh instead of Bryce. Their stage names were their characters, up for absolute creative direction. Her own handle had been inspired by Dan's. Artemis. She'd followed in his footsteps, alluding to Greek origins, and although the name was purely an echo upon introductions, she had found no reasons to change it. Her identity had grown into Peitho, in the club, her persona swelling to fill the shoes as she'd grown comfortable. If someone called her Peitho in the real world her head would turn, and although that fact was a terrifying realization, it just went to show how ingrained the false identity had become. How enmeshed Isla was with Peitho.

"Eros. God of sexual desire," she says, finding no surprise that a man as seemingly bold as he would pair with such a bold moniker.

"Mm. What are the origins of Peitho?"

"Greek, as well," she tells him, smiling, "Means the personification of persuasion and seduction."

"Well," Eros states, thoughtfully, "You certainly live up to it."

Isla flutters her lashes coyly, a lauded warmth radiating in her chest. Often, she finds herself wondering what people look like behind their masks. It's a curiosity that lingers, despite her own sense of security in total anonymity, and that curiosity is especially piqued in the company of Eros. She wonders if his lips are plush, the shape of his brows, his nose, whether his facial muscles show any disfiguration in the form of dimples, whether he's got smile lines or freckles. As he talks, she witnesses his teeth, straight and pearly white. Besides that, the only window she has are to his eyes, which speak vibrantly, just as his tongue.

"Eros is more fitting for you, too, I think," the young woman jests, "Better than The Executioner, for sure."

Harry huffs in sardonic amusement, but reins her for the influx of compliments, regardless. He's always enjoyed having his ego stroked. Part of the reason he plays the part he does, after all.

"Why d'you think that?"

But the compliments don't come. Instead, Peitho shrugs, "The Executioner is so ...I don't know. You seem much too nice to be The Executioner."

"What makes you think I'm nice?" the corners of his mouth curl up a bit, deviously, behind the mask that, apparently, demonstrates a much more accurate representation of his role than his own conversational tactics leave up to the imagination.

Isla's gaze narrows in deliberation. She supposes the cruelest, meanest ones in private rooms are always the nicest people in regular settings, and she supposes the bar is the most non-sexual setting to be in at Indulge. Her heart hammers in her chest at the prospect of getting the opportunity to play with him and goading him into a session in which that dark side only gets darker as a repercussion to her words. Maybe he has a regular play partner, maybe he has no interest in pursuing beyond a friendly, albeit flirtish conversation. Regardless, an invisible light bulb enlivens over her head. Make him make you take your words back — the inner workings of Peitho.

She rests her chin in her palm, "I'm serious. You've got kind eyes, and you're way too friendly for me to be intimidated by your mask, now."

Harry's lips jolt beneath the same mask Peitho has apparently decided no longer daunts her.

"That's your impression?"

Peitho nods.

The man cocks his head, and says, after a moment of lulled heed, "Well. I'll have to prove you wrong now, I suppose."

There's little to see beyond a blindfold.

There's actually nothing to see, because you quite literally can't see, but Isla believes that's all part of the thrill. It leaves her wondering what the next sensation will be, whether it will be a featherlight graze or the sharp bite of an implement, it leaves her pondering over who the next touch will come from. Who will make her come — who won't let her, who will hit her — who will caress her. Whether she'll receive a fondle or a smack.

It's an open scene, tonight, in the lounge, just as it had been two weeks prior, but this time she's blindfolded in place of her commonplace mask, and the dark cloth has no sensory give like the lace. It's been negotiated that, alongside her primary play partner for the night, Hercules, others are free to join and meld her beneath their touches - to make her rigid, to make her melt, to make her moan, to make her cry. She doesn't know how many there are, she doesn't know who. The only information she'd been granted took place through negotiation, and all she's aware of is that they follow the lead of Hercules, and that any and everything that happens to her is under his discretion. She knows Hercules. She's played with Hercules. There's a series of dominants she rotates through commonly, a handful of those whose interests mesh so well with her own. She doesn't know the other men. They could be fragments of the systematic cycle, they could be strangers to her. That last little idea sends a dirty spike of fireworks erupting through her nervous system, and when someone smacks her inner thigh with something small, drawing a sharp cry from her parted lips post a series of silent, anticipatory deep breaths and exhales, pain mingles with pleasures and ignites like fire over her skin.

"Legs spread," a voice demands just as her knees attempt to buckle together. It's a futile bid — she's fastened by the ankles and the wrists, but the struggle comes as a reflex. A hand pries her knees apart, and a different one, she thinks, maybe, and that same palm holds one of her joints down with a firm grip.

"Keep them spread, I said," the same cadence orders, in front of her, over her, behind her, all around her. "Stay still. Or should I smack your cunt? Make sure you follow directions?" In response to her whines at the back of a hand, of lax knuckles, skimming between her legs, the voice prompts, "Is that what you want?"

It's Hercules, she knows his voice. But she doesn't know whose cinch holds her knee down, who's tugging on her nipples, who yanks her hair with a fist by her scalp. She discovers the latter when a familiar timbre croons, against her ear — Hercules, "You're a very difficult girl, Peitho, but don't you wanna be a good girl for our guests? Don't you want to show them you deserve their touch?"

Yes, she does, yes, yesyesyes — "Yes," Isla hisses, hips canting, and then a palm does smack her between her splayed thighs, and her hiss cuts off into a pitiful moan as she sinks back.

It's not Hercules, she knows that much, because his fingers are still tightly wound in her sweaty tendrils, and his free hand slinks over the vale of her side, petting, a contrast to the burst of short lived pain, and his timbre is still gentle and coaxing against her earlobe, "Stay still, take it like a good girl, be a good girl for our guests."

Oh, Christ. The young woman jerks when another smack comes, and her chest arches up as her hips bow away against the flat surface. There's nowhere she can run, pressed to the table, and whoever's distributing the blows has a clear sense of recognition of this. Someone laughs and hums, and her jaw is grappled and squeezed by a rough grasp. It's still not Hercules.

"Thought you said yes, you wanted to get smacked? Hm?"

Her head is maneuvered into a nod by the firm grip, and her lips part with a gasp of recognition as the familiarity of the cadence ignites some sort of spark plugs in her otherwise mushy brain. She knows that voice. It's the same voice that'd ribbed her over her strange infatuation with cherries last week.

"Didn't you? Poor, little Peitho asks for pain, but then cries when she gets it?"

And now she knows the palm that smacks her, how it feels, and her hips bevel up on their own accord. More, more, more, mean, mean, mean. The chuckle that Eros emits is dark. She knows it's Eros, even with her sense of sight constricted by the blindfold, and when his thumb swipes over her bottom lip and he tells her, duskily, "Pathetic," Isla whines.

"Told you not to worry about being soft with this one," the young woman's jaw unhinges a smidge in a muted gasp as the hand in her hair tugs back sharply. Hercules speaks from a distance, now, in contrast to his prior proximity, a shift in distance from the way his soft encouragement had caressed her eardrums. He's talking to the other people.

"This one," another, sharper tug that wrests a screechy, soft sound from the back of her throat, "Likes to play games. Doesn't she?"

Whether the question is rhetorical, whether aimed at her or not, Isla finds the pleas and denials spilling off her tongue on their own accord, now with a newfound eagerness to impress Eros, to wrangle more. More leverage, more incapacity. More control. Less.

"No, no games, I don't — Eros —"

Another smack, this time harder, sharper, and it nearly knocks the air from her already tight lungs as the burst of pain blooms with numb needles of aftershocks, zaps that have her endorphins on overdrive.

"She's still talking back? Little Peitho really is a slut for pain," an entirely diverse timbre comes from overhead. It belongs to whoever had been tugging on her nipples, and now, pinches and rolls the sensitive nerve endings between deft fingertips, harder.

"F'course she is, look how sopping she is for it. All to have that pretty, little cunt smacked, Peitho?" the filthy dialogue is plucked from the vocal cords of Eros, this time, and the reminder that she's splayed, open, on display sends a wave of delicious humiliation down through her chest, to the trench of her tummy, snaking lower, lower, pulsing between her legs where she throbs.

"All," she bites into her bottom lip, chewing desperately as a digit draws loose, little circles over her clit, and Eros speaks against her opposite ear, the one where Hercules isn't, "you have to do is ask. All you have to do is say, 'Please Sir, smack my cunt,' like a good girl, and I'll give to you."

It's a vulgar promise, a smutty statement, a bawdy demand. He wants her to ask for more, and her suspicions are confirmed when the pad of his finger delves and resurfaces, the circles tightening against her clit.

"Y'so wet, look at that. Proper messy girl, gushing all over the bench. If you could see the mess you've made. Christ, you love this, don't you? Love mean men playing rough with you? Love having your sweet little pussy abused?"

His speech leaves her mewling, her hips grinding, her tongue running on a desperate trail as her pleas rattle off, "Please, please, please, Sir, please smack my cunt, please, plea —"

The mantra fades into a quiet groan when he rewards her with exactly what she'd asked for, and there's hints of a smile in his speech when he tells her, cadence uncharacteristically gentle, "See? All you had to do was ask. What a good girl you can be when you want to, Peitho."

When the vibrator is introduced, buzzing on the lowest setting, and fingertips prod and spread one of her lips back for optimal access, the mush of her brain crumbles and pools into a puddle. When it presses onto her, she goes mindless and numb to everything but the pleasure rippling through her. It takes all of thirty seconds for Isla to initiate a mantra begging for release. That culls another dark chuckle, and the bulbous head of the toy pulls away, leaving her a sopping, floaty mess pleading for reprieve.

"Aw, darling, d'you wanna cum?"

The cadence that rolls from the mouth of Eros is littered with faux pity. He laughs when the low buzz is centered back onto the most sensitive fragment of her nerve endings and her neck strains, veins tightening at the surface like cords beneath her skin, only to take it away as soon as Isla starts begging again. "Poor little baby."

"Pl —" Peitho grits her jaw, desperate, and whatever she'd planned to say dies off as she clearly harbors all energy and focuses on stalling the impending climb towards her crest.

Her pretty lips part when Harry doesn't make any indications that he's keen to remove the toy. He cocks his head down at her, pupils roving and wending over her trembling silhouette through the slits in his not-so-scary mask. A telltale little sound falls from her mouth, a warning, and that's when he pulls back. She thrashes in the restraints, and despite this, Harry continues to loom over her, eyeing the string of arousal that links from the broad head of the toy to her cunt, lips crooking derisively behind the parted latex and the metal.

"You don't like that?" he ponders softly, condescension dripping from each syllable like honey off a spoon. The young woman's chest rolls and recedes, like a wave in flesh, ebbing and flowing with each breath she takes. He lets her catch it for a moment, before his eyes meet with Locust, the man who's assaulting her tits between pads of thumbs and forefingers, and then the curly-headed brunette brings the vibrator back between her legs, wrenching a cry so helpless and sweet his dimples rise awake.

It's a reward, it's a punishment, it hangs in the threads, leaves her dangling amongst the web. It leaves her tangled, flailing, falling, hovering, reaching, barely grasping, writhing. The vibrator is toggled to a higher setting.

"I'm — please," Isla flails in the restraints, her cadence rising a decibel, "Oh, fuck, please!"

"That's not how we ask," Hercules tells her, loudly, and a hand palms over her cheeks to stifle the jerk of her head, "Is it? How do we ask nicely, Peitho?"

Something traces the skin where her pelvis and thigh meet, close to where she throbs so desperately, a thumb, a thumb that belongs to Eros, and she can't stifle her sob as her hands ball into fists, as she refrains from attempting to ball her entire body into the fetal position, "Please, may I cum, please, please, please, I'm so — I'm gonna—"

"Cum."

The command is a simple one, easy enough to accomplish, and it comes from Hercules, who, despite seemingly taking a nonchalant backseat for the prior few minutes, ultimately mans the wheel, even still. Any disappointment that the permission didn't come from Eros himself is quelled by the wave swallowing her whole, the rapturous pleasure that leaves her crying out, a heaving, wracking mess as the tide ebbs and the bliss of the vibrator morphs into discomfort, terrorizing her senses. She thrashes for a different reason, then. The toy doesn't relent, not for a little while. It stays for a span long enough to have her jaw clenching and her teeth grinding. Another laugh, mirth at her struggles.

"What do you think, Peitho?" Hercules speaks against her ear, donning an open-mouthed smile, his face turned towards Harry.

And that's when Harry kneels to the opposite ear — his cue, teasing with the brush of the zipper to her lobe, voice soft-spoken, gentle, bordering on a whisper, "Think you can take all of us before we shut the toy off?"

And the way her chest rolls at the prospect, the way her teeth, which had previously so heavily honed on grinding, part to release her pornographic moan has Harry biting into his cheek to curb a groan of his own.

That's when the third winds around to work on the knots on her ankles — easy access and all, and Isla knows — she doesn't know that she'll get all three but she'll get something, someone, Eros, maybe, and her heart thunders and her thighs sweat and her cunt pulses.

"Hm?" Eros prods to her left, and she wants to yank him by his stupid zippers out of desperation, "D'you like that idea, then? ...I think you do. How about," she feels the vibrator shift between her legs as he stands, and for just a moment it pressed harder against her, "one in each hole? How does that sound, Peitho?"

Isla siphons energy to take deep breaths as the toy relents, if only for a moment, and then she grunts as she's yanked by the backs of her knees to, she assumes, the edge of the table.

"Hm. But I think," Harry watches Peitho's pretty mouth fall open in a gasp when he taps over her clit with the pad of his pleather coated index, "you haven't deserved all the attention, though. Maybe we'll just give you one, and maybe you won't know which."

Won't know whose cock it is, won't know who's groaning over her, who's fucking into her, who decides if she'll cum again — Isla moans pitifully and grinds her hips up. She's sure it's Eros who hums with amusement, Eros who grips onto her thighs, Eros who's stood at the edge of the table between her splayed legs.

"Or maybe," his tone gets sharper, sterner, heavier, "You don't get fucked at all," and she nearly sobs out of desperation. That reaction leaves him biting back a smirk, and he expands, "Only very good girls get fucked, and I think you've been doing an awful lot of whining and moving when you are supposed to be what, Peitho? Hm?"

Despite what course of action his dialogue suggests, Isla whines, again, but she's stifled by a grip over her face.

"You are supposed to be what?"

"Good, I'm supposed to be..." Isla licks her lips as the grip retracts. She hears a tut, and then a laugh beside her, Hercules.

A familiar burn settles in the backs of her eyes, a recognizable lump in the base of her throat, a welcomed sentiment of chagrin (in these settings, and these settings only). Isla likes to cry. She yearns for it, and there's a plethora of variations that can bring it about. Endorphins. Pleasure. In this context? That commonplace humiliation that triples her arousal and leaves her feeling small and weightless and light.

She feels gloved fingertips stroke over her cheek, and she nearly seeks to nip at them. Honestly, Isla's pleased with herself that she shows restraint, because the resulting cadence is gentle, albeit teasing, "I'll be very nice to you, love. Feeling particularly kind, tonight. 'Still' is the answer I'm looking for."

Peitho pouts when his hand withdraws, "And you haven't been particularly still, have you?"

"So," Isla groans when the vibrator makes its great comeback, a long-awaited encore. This time, the discomfort has ebbed and pleasure resurfaces, but her sentiment of reward is short-lived as who she's sure is Eros tells her, "Maybe you'll just have to cum until you're crying to prove that you're willing to be good. I think that's plenty fair, don't you?"

Harry squats, his grasp on the toy flippant. His tone suggests they're having any other, casual conversation, and not one that implies he's interested in overstimulating her to tears, "Fair for you to endure? To make us happy?" He doesn't wait for a response before he tacks on, "I think it is. So go ahead. Cum until you're crying, and we'll reconvene."

TDIAG MASTERLIST HERE

#dom harry styles #harry styles #harry styles dirty fanfiction #harry styles dirty one shot #harry styles edit #harry styles edits #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles wattpad #harry styles x oc #harry styles writing #domharry #dom!harry #harry styles angst #TDIAG #1800titz #1-800-tits

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priceswifebb · 1 month

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Ghost would crash the most, but Johnnys crashes level his car every time. Miracle they’re alive at all. And in one piece. Ghost drives a challenger, Johnny drives a mustang.

Prices car is the closest one to a beater out of all of them. The rust, weird noises and odd quirks gives it personality love, he says. His car is also an absolute nightmare to detail because he insists that the first cup holder is his ash tray and the built up pile of ash has to stay. Car smells reaaaaaal funky. Never rolls his window up to smoke. Drives an older model Camaro

Gaz’s is the newest and nicest. He’s not very messy but he always hires you to detail it. The only thing with him is his car is also his gym locker and he has so much shit in the back seat and it smells like man sweat. Will never take it out before bringing his car to your shop. Feel like he’d drive a hellcat

Sometimes they just show up and hangout in your lot to drink beer, play music loud and talk shit about whatever car you’re trying to fix at that moment (you’re scaring the clientele guys pls)

THIS!! This is so accurate!!

I feel like yes they can be annoying and dirty at times and can scare away the clients sometimes there is also a lot of pros of them being around almost 24/7.

Such as when a client is being a bit to aggressive trying to haggle you out of your original price and then you got four big burly men who are like your security and the client backs off and doesn't come back until their car is ready.

I Also think that both Soap and Gaz are huge energy drink people so every now and then you'll see a few monsters or red bulls in Gaz's car BUT soap car... you're scared of even opening his door in fear of a shit ton of old red bulls, monsters and Rockstar energy drinks cans attacking you.

It's also pretty cool because you have these men at your disposal. You can use them to pick up heavy car parts that you don't want to, just let out a sharp whistle and you got one of them or all of their attention.

Going back to Price's rank smelling car I can imagine a scenario where reader is giving his car back to him and he sees one of the car air freshener and he's like "what's this love? I dont need one." And you respond with "yes you do I'm tired of working on a smelly ass car."

Not the first time won't be the last that Soap drives to your shop with a door missing a door, a headlight broken, tires near to being smooth and a dopey grin on his face as he calls you over to assess his fucked up mustang that's running on prayers by now.

I don't know why but I can see Ghost's always having cracks or being broken and you're always confused because how hard are you racing for your windshield to be broken all the time???

Doesn't matter how many time you scold them for intimidating other clients and making fun of their cars but they ain't gonna stop they are jealous that others are taking the cute mechanic's attention.

By the amount of times they have come to your shop so you can work on their cars you who's car is who's by the way they sound.

You are silently cursing out gaz while you detail his car moving his gym bag random shit he has in his trunk also I truly believe this man has the most random things lost in the seats like once you were cleaning it out and just found a TV remote like wtf??

#cod x reader #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #141 x reader #Street racer! 141 x Mechanic! Reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #john price x reader

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blaaaaask · 3 months

Text

My Final Fantasy 7 Rebirth review:

Spoilers ahead, you've been warned!

So here are pros and cons of what I thought about Rebirth.

Overall I really liked it, can't wait for the next installment. I still have a few items to wrap-up with side quests, but I did beat the game with a large portion of items done in 94 hours.

Pros:

Character development is on par. Lots of 'getting to know' not only your teammates but characters they introduced from the Remake version as well. This kind of feels like an Easter Egg moment sometimes, and gives the game consistency and charm.

Gameplay during battle is smooth, consistent, and the added synergy attacks are interesting. Playing as a larger group of people with their own assets can be a little overwhelming, but fun to find your favorite playing style. Using different characters feels absolutely necessary for differing battle mechanics, and I think they did a great job in providing the opportunity to keep all characters relevant rather than 'backseating' someone. The side quests and even main storyline ensure this.

Storyline. The intense amount of speculation people have been doing has been a little blown out of proportion and I kind of like that. I mean we weren't wrong about differing timelines, the game does have that, but the way it is incorporated was done beautifully. They followed the original story very well, and moments that were changed only seemed to enhance the clarity that was occurring in those scenarios. Moments that I had thought of prior were now in different tones, giving different meanings. I enjoyed that.

Voice acting. Using new voices can be a bit of a dealbreaker for those of us who enjoyed the original VAs, but I think they did a great job in continuing with VAs that fit the tone of this 'newer' version of the FF7 world. I do still miss some of the originals, but with the storytelling in this format I think it's done very well.

Music. I really don't know what else to say other than the blends and tones and meshing of songs and the moments they're in is just. It's everything. It really makes every. Single. Scene. If you played the demo you know exactly what I mean.

Scenery. Everything is so gorgeous. Ugh. I just want to paint every little scene into a pretty landscape.

The comedic value is gold. Random characters will bring up points from Remake that will make you die of laughter. Side quests can be beyond hilarious (looking at you, Johnnys).

The intense amount of flirting and goofy moments of people hitting on Cloud is beyond amazing and very fitting. The dating scene I ended up with was with Tifa, and it played out beautifully. I am totes excited to try out the others, too.

Cons:

Too many minigames? It might just be me, but it felt like every mechanic had an unnecessary 'challenge' to it that robbed the enjoyment of the side quests. Each mini game has its own rules, mechanics, and is oftentimes poorly instructed to the point you will be redoing them in multitudes. Precision is key to every single one of them, but getting there seems too difficult at times. It's probably just me lol, but the piano keys with a PS5 controller can be incredibly difficult to get accurate notes. The march portion of the game was increasingly difficult, too, borrowing from the dance mechanics of Remake and yet somehow making it more motion-sickness-y. Granted, it was still funny, but the practice rounds they allow you do not compare to the actual hell hole that is the 3 march portion. It felt like when a teacher tells you '1+1=2' but on the math test they give you 'If Jimmy sells 83 portions of apple purple, who is the sun representing in the third movie of cryptocurrency?' Fort Condor makes a comeback from Yuffie's DLC, which is fun and kind of annoying. I am terrible at timed things so don't mind my venting here. And don't get me started on MOG HOUSE. The weird slide mechanics of trying to 'push' things around in this minigame while trying to avoid haphazard death feels a little too much like reality for me and I cannot deal, yo. The 'Run Wild' or whatever Red XIII game has a similar mechanic, which only makes it frustrating for the harder challenges they throw at you in making goals. Also, every minigame seems to incorporate an insane amount of R2/L2 button mechanics. Being left-handed feels like a bit of a disadvantage in some of these games, and it sometimes feels like the PS5 controller has too much of a 'soft push' on it that doing full trigger clicks is like a whole hand exercise. These games crippled me hahaha. I would love a Story Mode for us cripple-y old fucks that makes it so I don't have to do minigames. To add to that, Queen's Blood ended up being a relief for me after the hell that I faced in all the other minigames, but only later in the game once you get better card decks. However, I am currently stuck on Dale in Nibelheim. Yes. Dale. Don't laugh at me.

Not all characters fit the aesthetic of the original game. I'm mostly thinking of Kyrie and Regina. It's such a dumb nitpick on my part, but I kind of wish they had toned down their looks to match the game a little better that way it isn't such a 'sore thumb' kind of vibe. The moogles are also a bit terrifying to look at. Why did they give them such horrifying teeth?

And speaking of sore thumb, Chadley and MAI. I like the banter but oof what an annoying duo, hahaha. The 'fun' mechanics they're trying to implement with having these two talk to you through the PS5 controller was a bit of a fun and novel concept in the first 2 seconds, but MAI's voice is a bit too grating for me that I had to turn off that feature.

Speaking of voices, Red XIII's splits back and forth at times between his 'pretending to be sophisticated' and 'teen' voice. I prefer his sophisticated voice, and it's a pity they don't have an option to choose what you want to hear. I think I just hate the sound of children's voices, so anything that is too high pitched sounds a bit like nails on a chalkboard for me. I am guessing no one else cares about this, hahaha.

Chocobo mechanics. I like sweeping onto a chocobo smoothly without button pressing, but sometimes Cloud gets off the bird in a direction that accidentally makes it possible to get back on the bird. Also, the open world trekking is only fun in the Grasslands area, after that it is a bit of a nightmare that continuously gets worse the hillier things get. I spend a lot of time staring at the map trying to figure out where I'm supposed to go because you can't actually 'go' wherever. This is a bit unfortunate because it can make simple tasks of 'I need to go here' turn to 'I need to make 70 different turns to get there.' And the traversing for specific regions can also feel like hell, mostly in Gongaga and Cosmo Canyon.

Controller mechanics. Kind of already talked about this, but because the PS5 is supposed to be a 'new, novel console' with things like speakers in the controller, touch sensitivity, motion sensors, etc, they go at it hardcore here. Tilt mechanics, sliding things, and all that garbage is just annoying. I turn it off as soon as I can. It is especially annoying during Cait Sith's time in the Shinra Manor. Boxgate. That is all, lol. If you like silly things like this then more power to you.

I am sure I am forgetting things, but to wrap-up: the storyline is what I'm in it for, and the story was beautiful and therefore I enjoyed it even with my stupid gripes. Please remember this is just my ridiculous opinion. I am merely a purple dinosaur on the internet and should not be held as gospel.

#video games #final fantasy 7 rebirth #ff7 rebirth #ff7 rebirth spoilers #spoilers #ff7 rebirth review #my garbage opinion #I will go hide in a hole now

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ellitx · 3 years

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Oh may I ask what are the pros and cons of having the anemo archon as your s/o?

warning: nsfw is under the cut

SFW

Pros

Venti will play and compose music with you! So if you’re into music, he’s the best lover you could have~

It’s always fun being with him! He’ll let you meet Dvalin and have you riding at his back with him! If Dvalin isn’t available, he’ll glide with you around Cape Oath or use the wind current to lift you up!

Very affectionate. Expect getting lots of hugs and kisses from him so if you’re touch starved, he’s the best choice in fulfilling it for you 24/7

adding to him being so affectionate, there’ll be lots of pda from him. if you dont like being kissed in public, holding hands is already enough for him! he loves the feeling of you soft and smooth hands against his, often squeezing it or drawing small circles on the back of your hand as both of you stroll in mondstadt’s town square or at windrise

The sweetest lover! He always gives you compliments everyday and he notices the small changes in you! Wearing a new hairclip? Absolutely stunning~ a new summer dress? he’ll slither his arms around your waist and whispers in your ear that you look so gorgeous

if you need someone to talk to, he’s there for you! centuries of living in this world, he knows pretty much everything and he can give you a good advice about life and its purpose. he’s not just a lover but also a good friend for you~

Cons

Clingy. he always wants to be by your side 24/7 and you have to tell right in front of him that you also need time for yourself. if you dont tell him where you’re off to, he’s going to look for you all around mondstadt.

venti easily gets jealous and gets possessive of you. one thing he despises the most is when he sees you talking to the traveler or drinking with the captain cavalry of the knights of favonius or playing chess with a certain winery owner

venti loves drinking so expect that he smells like wine. and speaking of that, on nights he mostly spends his time in the tavern so if you want him to come home (if you’re living together) you really have to tell him about his drinking habits so he can lessen it, but more preferable if he stops

he’s an archon. he can live for more than a century and it always breaks his heart the thought of you passing away so he always spends a quality time with you, make memorable memories, and have fun being with together.

NSFW

Pros

really really really loves to spoil you. just ask/beg for it and he’ll give it to you instantly

Listens and abides all your wishes. at first he’ll be a tease, he loves to see you beg for his fingers, cock, and/or tongue when it comes to this heated session with him. dw, he’ll give in to your desires since he doesnt want to see his princess disappointed or unsatisfied

sweet talker, and always gives you praises if you want to be the giver. he wants to boost up your confidence and seeing your eyes sparkle whenever he throws you a compliments makes his heart flutter

what’s wonderful about venti is that he’s considerate, thoughtful, and has your well-being and happiness in mind. He’s compassionate and able to feel into your needs and desires, just a single whiny moan from you or your fingers tugging to his hair he already knows what you need.

Good at aftercare! after hours of lovemaking, he’ll be really sweet in taking care of you. he’ll prepare the bath and asks if you ever need anything.

when it comes to bathing together, he loves to hold you close to him! one thing he does like is when he washes your back and you do the same for him~ he just finds it sweet and adorable being together in the bathtub

Cons

If you’re into BDSM then sorry that’s a big no for him. He doesn’t like including physical harm in sex. He loves you too much he can’t bring himself to degrade or spank you

Big problem he has somnophilia kink. So if you’re asleep and found yourself waking up with aching pain in between your legs, it’s because Venti likes pounding you while you’re asleep.

Even if you consent this, he has the urge to do it everyday. So if it’s really fine with you, expect that you won’t be able to walk for days.

he places lots of marks on your body. be it the crescent shapes from his fingers digging to your skin, love bites, or his absolute favorite: marking you with anemo

some are difficult to hide since he places lots of hickeys on your neck and shoulders, so you really have to cover it with a makeup or a scarf

venti really really wants to cum inside you, only if you allow him tho. but if he cums on your back or stomach, he makes a mess of it by smearing it all over your body before he licks it off and have another round with you

VERY HORNY. im telling you, he always wants to fuck you everyday but he limits himself for only twice or thrice a week and that includes his somnophilia unless you also have a very high sexual urges as him then he’ll happily indulged you his love

a tease in public. he sometimes flicks your skirt up with the wind to see what panties you’re wearing for today, or when seated in the tavern, his hands under the table will wander from your legs to your thighs until his fingers landed on your clothed core and starts teasing it until you’re dripping wet

#anon ask #ellianswers #elliwrites #venti x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #venti brainrot

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kirislut · 3 years

Text

the swing set

a/n: so this is just a comfort fic for myself really pfft,, just some feelings of mine that seem to stay unresolved,, but i still hope you enjoy! i need to stop pouring my personal feelings and experiences into fics abxmwkd also i’m worried osamu might be a little ooc sorry about that!!

pairing: osamu x gn!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: over thinking, self blame, mentions of toxic friendship?

taglist (open): @katsushimaa @animatedarchives @peach-pops @deephasoceanmagic @goopyartiste @sugas-sweetheart @shoutamajiki @justamultifandomfan16 @spookykiri @yee-harr @colorseeingchick @tetsurolls @meliorist-midoriya @olsenholic @ordinary-ace @bunnythepipsqueak @sushii10 @sunseteyes @aaakaaashii @aizawaslovebot @rousouhouuu @wompwomphq @eighth-wanderer

moving was no easy task. having to leave everything behind and restart was no fun in the slightest. the hardest thing was saying goodbye to all of your friends. you knew the promise of texting each other was flimsy, eventually, they’d forget and move on with other friends. but you tried not to dwell on the thought too much. you tried to think of how making new friends would be good for you, trying to put yourself out there and make connections was something you needed to improve on anyways.

it wasn’t long before you were accepted into a group of friends, being the new person in school comes with perks since the attention was on you for the first week. everything was smooth from there, you enjoyed your new friends even though there were moments or inside jokes you didn’t understand. you tried not to dwell on it much, it’s not like they were trying to exclude you. however, slowly yet surely, they began to.

whether they meant to or not they started to leave you out of things. forgetting to text you plans for hanging out together, leaving without you after school ended, and sometimes never even glancing in your direction during lunch. some days it was like you never even existed to them in the first place. yet you still stayed around the group. how could you not, you had nowhere else to go.it didn’t help that another new student joined the class. and just like your group did with you, they gladly accepted the new girl into the friend group.

if you didn’t think they didn’t care about you before, you did now. it was painfully obvious how much they enjoyed the new girl’s company instead of yours. often talking to her or asking her to tell them stories. the spotlight was constantly on her, asking her about how she thought being at a new school was. or how cool she was for being new and such. even though you were new as well just two months or so ago.

however you held no resent towards the girl, she was funny and lovable, gorgeous as well. you could understand why they enjoyed her company over your own. you just weren’t interesting enough for them, no matter what you did or talked about. but they still had their moments of being nice to you and inviting you to hang out. maybe you were just overthinking the friendship between yourself and them.

with winter break just starting, you couldn’t help but feel excited. you had ideas of what to get and make your friends for christmas. even if they weren’t as attentive to you they were still your friends after all! besides if they didn’t want you there they would’ve said something, and they did.

a few days into the break you got a text from one of the girls in the group. she explained how she and everyone else didn’t want to be friends with you anymore because they just didn’t like you all that much anymore. their excuse was not connecting with you, that you were just too different. that and with the new girl there they didn’t want to keep you around anymore, it apparently just felt too awkward.

you responded with a string of angry and emotional texts, saying how they were all mean and how they were terrible friends anyway. it was all in the heat of the moment, and while you said you wouldn’t miss them, deep down you knew you would. while the last bits of the friendship was weak and crumbled, the beginning was lots of fun and memorable. what were you going to do now that you were alone?

you don’t know how much time was spent with you crying in your bed, but that was all you could do. so when tears no longer came out, you decided to leave the house and just get some fresh air. your room was now stuffy, the tearful atmosphere felt suffocating to you. so you grabbed your jacket, told your parents you were gonna go for a walk and left the house.

the winter night instantly made you feel chilly, a tingle immediately rushing down your spine as your started to walk to nowhere in particular. even though you went on this walk to try and clear your head, thoughts slowly started to spill into your mind about the ordeal.

you wondered what went wrong, they said it was you so could you have done better? maybe you weren’t a good enough friend, maybe you should’ve been more interesting and fun, maybe if the new girl never came you wouldn’t have been tossed aside like a piece of garbage. all of the possibilities and thoughts of maybe this and maybe thought clouded your mind. it was only when you felt tears running down your cheeks again that you were pulled out of your spiraling thoughts.

carefully you swiped your tears away with the back of your hand, only now looking to see where your feet had carried you too. it seemed that you ended up at the local park in your neighborhood. this was the one place you enjoyed after the move, coming there after school to just relax and enjoy the weather. it seemed that your subconscious knew where to take you to try and comfort yourself. it made you feel a little happy that at least someone cared, even if it was just your subconscious.

you beelined straight to the swings, it was the best place to sit in the park. it also felt nice to pretend like you were in a shoujo manga, waiting for your crush to meet you at the first place you met so that they could confess to you. maybe this was why your friends, now previous friends, decided to drop you. were your thoughts and interests just too different from theirs? was it really that bad enough for them to decide and exile you from their group? whichever way you tried to think about it, it just didn’t make sense. what could you do to improve yourself? how could you become more likable like the new girl? you were the problem right? it wasn’t their fault they dropped you, no it was yours. you were the problem, you were the problem, you were the pro-

“is this swing taken?” you looked to the source of the voice, not expecting to see a gray-haired male that seemed to be the same age as you. “oh no it’s not sorry,” the male nodded at your response and sat himself down on the swing beside you. he looked straight ahead, pushing off on the ground and gently starting to swing back and forth. you watched as he didn’t pick up much speed, just slowly and rhythmically going back and forth.

you looked over the male, taking in his handsome and very familiar features. you felt like you’ve seen him around before yet you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. so when you noticed the maroon sports jacket he was wearing it finally clicked. “you go to inarizaki high as well? i feel like i’ve seen you walking around the halls before,” the male glanced over at you and simply nodded. “yeah i do. you’re in my friend’s class i’m pretty sure. i’m miya osamu, what’s your name?”

the conversation after that flowed slowly and steadily, you exchanged names and talked about his friend, suna, who was in your class, and about how he played volleyball for the school. it was casual and very calming in a sense, something that felt a bit out of place after crying your eyes just before this. osamu was surprised you didn’t know him as one of the miya twins, but it was refreshing, to say the least. “so what are you doing out here?” osamu’s question caused you to sigh, you didn’t want to suddenly dump your feelings onto some cute guy you just met. “i just wanted some fresh air that's all,” you watched as the male’s eyes squinted at you, clearly questioning your answer. but it wasn’t a lie, you did want to get some fresh air because your bedroom reeked of your sadness but you didn’t think it was necessary to include that part.

“any reason for wanting fresh air? i don’t mean to be rude but it looks like you’ve been crying. do...you want to talk about it?” you unconsciously started to nervously play with your fingers, you weren’t sure if you wanted to tell him much. what if you would scare him away just like all your prior friends? but also, at this point, you didn’t have much to lose. so, you did something you never thought you’d ever do. you poured your feelings out to some cute guy you just met, on the swings of all places.

osamu nodded slowly as you explained the situation of you moving and how you found new friends only to be replaced and dumped not too long after. you even shared your doubtful feelings of not being enough and thinking you were the problem. “well there’s always going to be someone out there who's just better.” the blunt comment made you deadpan at the gray-haired male, so this was how he comforted people? but before you could interject he continued, “that’s sadly just the reality of life. i know from personal experience, but—“ he paused for a moment, his mind flickering to his more preferred twin brother “—it’s not your fault. no matter how much you want to blame yourself it’s not your fault. it’s theirs for being jerks.”

your eyes bore into the ground as you processed his words. you knew he was right, but you still had a hard time accepting that you weren’t the problem. surely something could’ve been different if only you were different. “you shouldn't have to change yourself to be more liked by others, it’ll just end up as a complicated mess anyways. i’m sure you can easily find better friends,” osamu intervened, trying to stop your mumbling about being different. he didn’t know why he asked, or why he wanted to help you, but he didn’t mind the small bit of attachment he had no formed with you. if anything he couldn’t help but somewhat relate to your problem.

while it was never voiced out loud, osamu knew that atsumu was the preferred twin. it made sense to him, he was the more charismatic and somehow the more handsome one. even though they had the same face. even though atsumu insisted they were equals he always felt like the second-best in most things. but, there was always one thing he knew he was better at than his brother, and friends that he knew valued them both the same. “hey osamu,” you started, fidgeting with your hands again as you felt the male’s gaze on you, “thank you for talking to me. i feel better about it.”

osamu smiled just slightly, he was glad to hear that you were at least doing better. though he could still see you were a little down, he had an idea to fix that. he hopped off from the swing and walked behind you. the gray-haired male looked at you quickly, silently asking for permission to which you allowed with a nod. he gently pushed you on the swing, pushing harder with each time you swung back to him so that you’d swing higher and higher. the sensation of swinging back and forth brought a smile to your face, there was just something about it that could always bring a smile to your face.

the male stepped to the side to let you swing, glad to see you finally looking happy. he ended up swinging beside you, he wanted in on the fun as well. the two of you swung for a good while but had to stop because swinging and conversing was surprisingly difficult. you guys talked about the upcoming holidays and about where each of you lived since you had to both live somewhat near to each other. he even shared his insecurities about his brother, since you began to apologize for drumming your problems onto him. but then you guys got to the topic of food, and osamu talked about all the food he loves and how he wants to make so many dishes. you thought it was admirable to see him so passionate about it, and it was cute to see him ramble off. but sadly the two of you had to head back to your separate homes since it was getting late.

osamu walked you back to your house, finding out that you only lived a few houses down from his. you stopped outside of your house, asking to exchange contact information so you could stay in touch. after that, you parted ways so that you could go inside and osamu could go home. that day was terrible, there was no way to sugarcoat it. you had lost a group of friends all at once, but in return, you had made one that you knew you were going to be close to. but maybe one that could even progress to something further. you shook your head at the silly thought, trying not to get too caught up in the sudden thought. your life wasn’t a shoujo manga, no way. but maybe, just maybe, it would start to turn into one.

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just-benni · 4 years

Text

Home Early

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky comes home early from a mission to find Y/N in his apartment, making herself comfortable

Warnings: a tiny bit of angst

“Al, what’s wrong baby?” You cooed toward Bucky’s white-furred cat. You’d never seen Alpine in such a depressed state. But it made sense, Bucky had already been away on mission for almost three weeks.

Surprisingly, Alpine allowed you to pet her and didn’t try to bite or claw your hand off. She wasn’t the friendliest of cats towards you, or towards people in general, Bucky included. Overtime, you’ve become immune to her scratches and biting, some scars here and there. You knew that Bucky had a soft spot for the feline.

“Alright then, Al,” you stood, huffing out a breath. “Food is in your bowl if you wanna eat.” Alpine meowed in response as you left the room, as if she were thanking you.

You loved Bucky’s apartment. Just how small yet spacious it was, a perfect fit for him considering he wasn’t someone to keep a clutter of unnecessary things. Bucky had mentioned to you one time that it was easier to live like that. Not getting attached to inanimate objects made it easier for if he ever had to go on the run again. It wasn’t totally likely that he would have to go into hiding again but considering what Bucky had been through already, it was definitely a possibility.

A framed picture set on his dresser came into view. You smiled to yourself, remembering the day the photo was taken. It was the Fourth of July a few years back when you and Bucky weren’t together yet. The team took a trip to Tony’s mansion sized cabin in the mountains to celebrate the American holiday, as well as Steve turning another year older.

The photo came about when Peter was going around, taking pictures to have memories of what a fun weekend it was. It was you and Bucky in the frame, sitting on opposite ends of a cut up tree log, only to be ushered closer by Peter. You, being tipsy, you didn’t object to getting closer to Bucky and wrapped your arm around his shoulders.

Bucky told you a different story of how the picture came to be. He explained that you weren’t just tipsy, but rather, Tony and Sam had managed to get you full on drunk. When you got up to get another drink, you misstepped and Bucky caught you before you could land face first on the dirt floor. He sat you next to him to keep you steady and he remembered you slurring out words about how warm he was, then the two of you argued that it was the fire keeping you warm, not him. At that point, Peter appeared with his camera and you circled your arm around Buck’s neck like in the picture, displaying a bright smile on your face.

Bucky didn’t oblige so quickly to smile along with you. In fact, the one thing you remember vividly is you having to scold him, “Smile and at least act like you like being next to me.” He of course smiled, though it was more like a grin but you took it for what it was. Peter sent you the picture in the days following and as a gift for Bucky when he moved into his apartment, you printed and framed the photo.

You brushed your finger over the edge of the frame before heading into the bathroom to do a face mask. Bucky would be home any day now and you wanted to do some self-care tasks before he returned, not necessarily for him. You knew Bucky would shower you with compliments no matter how you looked.

You applied the paste-like substance to your face evenly and popped your earbuds in, blasting your music at full volume because why not? The apartment was too quiet for you not think about ghosts or some supernatural thing coming to haunt you, making you miss Bucky even more. He made you feel safe, without a doubt.

You sat out on the balcony furniture, propping your legs up on the railing and laying back against the chair. You either had your eyes closed or looked out at the sunset view. It always reminded you of Bucky. Every so often, he would tell stories about growing up with Steve and all trouble they got into.

You jumped up when you felt a cold touch to your shoulder. Standing with a jolt, you turned and saw Bucky standing there. “Oh.” You ripped out the earphones from your ears, “What are you doing home?”

“Well unless you know something I don’t, this is my apartment.”

“But you weren’t supposed to be home for hours. It’s too early for you to be home!”

“Got the mission done early.” He smirked, looking at you up and down of your appearance. It wasn’t often that Bucky got the high ground against you. “Is that my shirt?”

You shielded your face from being seen, failing miserably. “I’m gonna go wash this off.”

You try to subtly brush past him but he didn’t let you get very far by wrapping his arm around your waist, and hoisting you from the ground so your back was pressed against his chest. You tried to pry his hands off of you, whimpering when he wouldn’t release you. “What’s wrong doll? I thought you would be happy to see me.”

“Bucky! You cannot see me like this!” You demanded, trying to dig your nails into his flesh arm which had no effect on him. “I look like a scary monster from a horror film!”

“Then you’re by far the most beautiful monster I’ve ever seen,” Bucky turned himself around and set you down so you were back onto the balcony.

“Fine, you wanna play like that?” As quickly as you could, you rubbed your face and swiped some of the cream onto Bucky’s scruffy face. The two of you laughed as Bucky grabbed a hold of your forearms and you squirmed to escape his grasp once again. “You started it, hon.”

“You’re the one at my apartment.” Bucky pinned you against the railing, his face at a close distance from yours.

“You’re gonna get more on your face if you get any closer.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Bucky closed off the space between the two of you. You smiled into the kiss, missing the warmth it brought you. There was a distant meow from behind Bucky, making the two of you separate from the kiss.

“She really missed you.” You commented, watching Alpine stretch before moving towards you both.

“I missed the both of you.” Bucky attempted to wipe your face mask off his skin but there was still some residue left on his cheek.

“So pretty,” you teased, finally getting past Bucky and headed into the bathroom. You heard Bucky in his bedroom, talking to Alpine. You found him sitting at the foot of his bed. You stepped in between his legs, cupping his face with one hand to wipe his face with a damp cloth.

“Will you stay for the night?” He questioned timidly.

“Sure. Are you hungry?”

“Not really. All I want is to sleep.”

“Okay, why don’t you go shower and change into some comfier clothes?”

You backed away to give him space only to be pulled back and settled you to sit at his side. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, what’s up? Is it the mission? Everything go okay? You’re not hurt are you?” You briefly examined him, checking for any cuts, bruises, and especially blood. Fortunately, there was nothing visible to the surface.

“Relax, Y/N. Everything and everyone is fine. The mission went smooth.”

You blushed. “Sorry, what was it you wanted to ask?”

“Just now, I loved the way that I got to come home to you like I did. Today is something I want to have every time I go on a mission.” Bucky paused and you knew there were tons of anxious thoughts going through his head. “So I was maybe thinking we could move in together. You can move here with me.”

“I would need to think about it. But are you sure about this?”

He displayed a soft smile, softening his steel blue eyes. “Trying to talk me out of it?”

“No, no.”

“What are you thinking?”

“Well, I’m not totally opposed to it,” you started, still processing that Bucky had asked you to move in. You were weighing out the pros and cons in your head momentarily. There was so much rummaging in your head, it was hard to give him a definite answer.

“Y/N.”

“No, yeah, sorry. I’m just thinking.”

Bucky stood abruptly, shifting himself towards the bathroom. “You know what, forget I said anything. I just ruined the whole night.”

“No, stop,” you scolded. “Don’t say that. It’s fine.”

“I’m gonna go take a shower, give you time to think. But it’s alright if you say no, I understand if this is too fast.”

You separated, Bucky into the bathroom and you into the kitchen to make some tea. Alpine followed you, prowling along the marble counter.

“What do you think, Al? Should I move in with you and that moody soldier?” You scratched behind her ear. “You haven’t bitten me yet I’ll assume that’s a yes, or at least not a definite no.”

Not long after, Bucky came and found you in the kitchen, unsure of where the two of you stood.

“Here,” you offered him a mug of warm tea. “To help you sleep.”

He thanked you silently as he took the cup in his hands. It was quiet for a few moments until he spoke up, “I was way in over my head when I asked you. You don’t have to move in. It was stupid of me to ask.”

“So you didn’t mean it when you asked me to move in?”

“Fuck.” Bucky was flustered, unintentionally burning himself when he took a sip of the drink. He set it down to cool, almost forgetting you had asked him a question. “No.”

“No, as in you don’t want me to move in or no you didn’t mean it?”

“I do want you to move in. But you think it’s a bad idea, I get it, it’s fine you don’t want to.” You rolled your eyes. You loved him to death but sometimes men were idiots.

“Will you look at me?” You clasped your hands around his neck, stepping directly in front of him to lock his gaze. Your voice was calm, trying not to further set off Bucky’s nerves. “I never said I didn’t want to move in with you.”

“You didn’t have to,” he started. “If you really wanted to, you would’ve said yes already.”

“You can’t just drop something like that onto me and expect me to have an answer within a few seconds. Moving in together is a really big step in a relationship and I just wanna make sure we play this right. We’re not a regular couple.”

“We can talk about this tomorrow or forget about it altogether, I’m tired.”

“But I don’t wanna forget about it.” You followed close behind Bucky into the bedroom. “This conversation is gonna come up again sooner or later. Please, just let me talk?”

“Fine.” He sat comfortably on the edge of his bed, you taking the seat at his side.

“You make me very happy. You have for almost two years. I’m actually surprised it’s taken us this long to get to this conversation. And you obviously want this. You’re acting like you don’t and you can’t do that. You deserve to want things for yourself.”

“But is this what you want? It’s not only about what I want.” You turned your head to his, meeting his soft, concerning eyes that made a fluttering go off in your stomach. Even after all these years, he was still able to do that and you wondered how. “Y/N?”

You had your answer. “I’ll move in with you.”

“You mean it?”

“Yes, but one thing first.”

Bucky stood, already in celebration mode by peppering your hand with delicate kisses. With ease, he pulled you to your feet. “What is it, doll? Anything.”

“I’m gonna need a lot of closet space.”

“Baby, I’ll throw all my clothes out the window if that’s what it takes to get you to move in.” The two of you broke out in a fit of laughter, Bucky circling his arms around your shoulders and pressing kisses to your head. You feel Bucky relax into your arms. “I love you.”

“I know.” You press a kiss to his collarbone. “I love you too.”

Bucky stood, offering his hand to you, “Come on now, we have to rest up.”

“Rest for what, old man?”

“Moving your things here, keep up.”

The two of you proceeded to stay in each other’s arms, gently shifting weight from one foot to the other, having little conversation. You could definitely get used to this.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #fluff #angst

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acousticcheeze · 3 years

Text

Here's my 100 questions for my OC thing!

My OC is Laureli, a 6'2 Altmer trying to make his way in Skyrim

1. What do they smell like?

Whatever alchemy ingredient he’s been working with, really. Lavender is what he smells like most often, though.

2. What is their voice like?

A smooth-ish medium pitch Altmer voice that has elements of calm and irritation.

3. What is their biggest motivator?

Helping others through his alchemy. He wants to improve medicine for Skyrim, as well as all of Tamriel.

4. What is their most embarrassing memory?

He had a whole scientific presentation one year that ended up being completely wrong. He got humiliated in front of everyone.

5. How do they deal with/react to pain?

Winces at it, curses, and then gets to treating the problem.

6. What do they like to wear?

Functional clothes that keep him warm and allow him to carry alchemy ingredients in his pockets.

7. Which of their relationships have impacted them most positively?

The relationships with some of the people he’s helped over the years. It gave him a sense of purpose and fulfillment knowing that he could help people, save people.

8. What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten?

He’s an alchemist...in Skyrim...I’m pretty sure there are a few contenders… (giants toe, large/small antlers, ectoplasm, the list goes on)

9. Describe the way that they sleep.

Normal side sleeper. Prefers to sleep on his left side.

10. What is their favorite food/kind of food?

Horker stew. It’s actually way better than he thought it would be.

11. What do they feel most insecure about?

If what he’s doing is good enough. He has big problems with perfectionism that still persist with him even after leaving Summerset.

12. How do they like to dress?

Robes with an alchemy enchantment and a hood.

13. How do they react to feelings of guilt?

He tries to shake them off, but has panic attacks and whatnot sometimes as a result of them.

14. How do they react to/deal with betrayal?

Is completely shattered by it. He’s dealt with this so many times before, though, so he keeps his cards close to his chest.

15. What is their greatest achievement?

Creating potions that help much more than the average cure disease potion would, as well as all sorts of other concoctions. Also, he’s created a sort of disinfectant and is working on a hand sanitizer.

16. What are they like when they’ve gotten too little sleep?

Cranky, cranky, cranky.

17. What are they like when they’re drunk?

Drunk? Oh no no no no Laureli does not drink (and even if he did he’d be out real quick)

18. What kind of music do they enjoy?

He isn’t really into music, but he enjoys the songs the bard plays at the Bannered Mare.

19. Are they right or left handed?

Right, but is practicing with his left hand too in case something happens to his right.

20. Fears?

Death and failure, mostly.

21. Favorite kind of weather?

As the sun rises and there’s dew all over the grass, the light reflecting through each drop.

22. Favorite color?

The color of eyes. Or, more specifically, the hundreds of little pinpricks of different colors inside of eyes, It’s really quite fascinating.

23. Do they collect anything?

OH YEAH. So many different alchemy ingredients and random stuff to be used in his next works-

24. Do they prefer either hot or cold weather more?

Cold, which is good since he lives in Skyrim.

25. What is their eye color?

Chartreuse (like most Altmer)

26. What is their race/ethnicity?

Altmer

27. Hair color?

White

28. Are they happy where they are currently?

Yup. Breezehome is small, but manageable, and Whiterun is a decent hold to live in.

29. Are they a morning person?

Yes. He gets tired around 9 and can’t stay up past 12.

30. Sunrise or sunset?

Sunrise.

31. Are they more messy or more organized?

Very organized. Again, he’s a perfectionist.

32. Pet peeves?

People touching his things as well as people inserting themselves into his business.

33. Do they own any objects of significant personal importance?

An amulet of Talos a Nord gave him. He hadn’t gotten the chance to learn much about Talos at home, and he found it very interesting talking to the local Nords about their beliefs. That amulet reminds him of his first day in Skyrim, the first day of his new life.

34. Least favorite food?

Taffy treats, or anything with that sort of texture and stickiness that can get stuck to his teeth very easily.

35. Least favorite color?

Very pale green. It looks gross.

36. Least favorite smell?

Death. (Yes, death has a smell)

37. When was the last time they cried?

Recently.

38. Were they with anybody the last time they cried?

No. Oh Auri-el, no no no no. He cries alone and he makes sure of it.

39. Tell us about one of the times they got injured?

Was in a fire when he was younger, he has a burn going up the inner leg on his right leg.

40. Do they have any scars?

Only mental ones. (and the burn scar on his leg)

41. Do they struggle with any mental health issues?

Perfectionism, past abuse, self hate, among others.

42. Do they have any bad habits?

Picking at his nails. He knows it makes them hurt and get bloody, but sometimes he just can’t help it.

43. Why might someone dislike them?

He can be very rude if he’s working, but to be fair, it is really annoying to be bothered in the middle of your work.

44. Why might someone love them?

Who wouldn’t love an overworked science boye? But in all seriousness, if he loves someone, he will be very caring towards them and is also just great listener. Tries not to care any more though because of personal trauma.

45. Do they believe in ghosts?

Yup. He’s heard of people’s encounters with them. Honestly, you’d be stupid to not believe in them.

46. Is there anyone they would trust with their lives?

At this point? No. Farkas later down the line? Yes.

47. Are they romantically interested in anyone?

Farkas, but we ain’t talking about that yet~

48. Are they dating/married to anyone?

49. Do they like surprises?

No. Please do not surprise this poor man he will stagger back and crash into everything.

50. When is their birthday?

9th of Hearthfire (September 9th)

51. How do they usually celebrate their birthday?

He takes a few seconds to acknowledge it and then gets on with his work.

52. Do they have any family?

Yup! A Mom, a Dad, a younger sister, and a male cousin that lives nearby (he’s in the Thalmor and the whole family has very Pro-Thalmor views)

53. Are they close to their family?

HAH- no~

54. What is their MBTI type?

INTJ (Damn this list for making me look up stereotypes for this. Honestly I hate the MBTI system so much-)

55. What is their zodiac sign?

Virgo

56. What Hogwarts House would they be in?

Ravenclaw

57. What D&D alignment are they?

If lawful chaotic good was a thing then yes

58. Do they ever have nightmares? If so, what about?

Yes, but they are often so tangled up that it’s hard to get any real meaning from them.

59. What are their views on death?

“It’s fine, it’s fine, I’ll be fine-” Hopes that he’ll be fine but is really scared about it.

60. What is something that they’re sure to laugh at?

Bad science puns. He will stifle a chuckle before telling you how bad your joke was.

61. When bored, how do they pass time?

This man does not get bored. He will always find something alchemy related to study or look into.

62. Do they enjoy being outside?

Yes. Laureli loves the Skyrim weather (for the most part. Places like Dawnstar and Winterhold suck)

63. Do they have an accent?

Yes. He has the typical Altmer accent.

64. Upon seeing a slice of chocolate cake, what is their first reaction?

“Why is this here? This isn’t mine.”

65. If they knew they were going to die, what would they do/say

He would probably take too long deciding and die before he could do/say anything.

66. How do they feel about sex?

Sex repulsed asexual.

67. What is their sexuality?

GAY

68. Do they become squeamish at the sight of blood?

Nope.

69. Is there anything that they find really gross?

He’s seen so much it would take a lot to surprise him here.

70. Which TV Trope(s) best describes them?

Grumpy scientist with no people skills.

71. Do they enjoy helping people?

Yes, definitely

72. Are they allergic to anything?

Not really. (Lucky)

73. Do they have a pet?

74. Are they quick to anger? What are they like when they loose their temper?

Nope, unless you press his buttons. His anger is pretty much “What in the name of Auri-el is wrong with you?! Don’t touch my equipment!!”

75. How patient are they?

Very...until you hit his limit. Then he gets passive aggressive.

76. Are they good at cooking?

Not really. He can be good at it, he just chose not to learn in favor of working on his projects. Can make enough to live on, though.

77. Favorite insult? Do they insult people often?

He doesn't have a favorite insult (he rarely insults people).

78. How do they act when they’re particularly happy?

Talking fast, pacing, flappy hands.

79. What do they do when they learn about other people’s fears?

Try to avoid bringing those fears up around them and avoiding making fun of them. If their fear is nearby, he will either tell them or take care of it. (which is good because Farkas is scared of spiders)

80. Are they trustworthy?

Yes, but you have to be a very certain kind of person to work with him.

81. Do they try to hide their emotions? Are they good at it?

Sometimes, especially romantic feelings. Romantic attraction? Nope, not possible- (It totally is; he’s in denial)

82. Do they exercise regularly?

With all of the walking he does around various holds, yes.

83. Are they comfortable with the way they look?

Yes. He’s a perfectionist with many things, but has learned to let go a bit more when it comes to his appearance. He still will take ages to get ready, though.

84. What are some physical features that they find attractive on people?

Tattoos, braids, basically everything you’d see on a typical Nord. It’s so different from his home and he’s completely enamored.

85. What kind of personalities do they find attractive?

Himbo nord men. Sweet morons basically.

86. Do they like sweet foods?

Not really. Sweet foods do have their place, but he isn’t wanting to get any cavities, so he tries to limit his sugar. (Especially since Altmer live 200-300 years aprox)

87. What is their age?

52 (~20s for an Altmer)

88. Are they tall or short or somewhere in between?

Tall, but about average for an Altmer

89. Do they wear glasses or contacts?

No, but if he did he would have half-moon spectacles.

90. Do they consider themselves attractive?

Not really. He doesn’t really think anyone is attractive. (Well, except for Nord himbos, but he doesn’t know that until he meets Farkas)

91. What is their sense of humor like?

Practically nonexistent, but when there is humor it’s mostly dry and sardonic.

92. What mood are they most often in?

That sort of focused work mode you get in when you’re really concentrating, as well as somewhat-sociable-but-still-kind-of-tired-and-grumpy

93. What kinds of things anger them?

People messing up his equipment. Oh sweet Auri-el, if you touch his things he will explode. Also, he hates the racism that the Thalmor promote. (He hates racism in general, but he hates the Thalmor’s views the most).

94. Outlook on life?

“It sucks, but I do find quite a bit fascinating and I’ll help where I can.”

95. What kind of things make them sad/depressed?

His perfectionism, how lonely he knows he is, and more.

96. What is their greatest weakness?

Again, his perfectionism, as well as having his work dictate more in his life than he should.

97. What is the greatest strength?

His brain. He remembers small details extremely well, and is practically an encyclopedia when it comes to alchemy.

98. Something that they regret?

How awful he used to be to everyone back home. He got a lot of pushback on his dreams and who he was, so he lashed out. Even though there wasn’t much he could do there, he still regrets hiring his family and wants to try at a relationship again with them (lol good luck).

99. Biggest accomplishment?

How is this different from “Greatest Achievement”?

100. Create your own! (Why is his alchemy so different from the norm?)

Because he’s trying to do something much more along the lines of modern medicine as opposed to just potions.

101. (Bonus!) Why is he in Skyrim?

Because it’s rather lacking in the medicine department compared to the other provinces, so he decided his talents would be best used there. Obviously, his family protested, but he went anyways.

#oc #laureli #skyrim

8 notes · View notes

dekuscrybaby · 4 years

Text

dancing bachata with him

pairing(s): iwaizumi x reader, nishinoya x reader, bokuto x reader, yamaguchi x reader, tendou x reader, oikawa x reader (all separate)

requested: no; just self-indulgent writing and i wanted a reason to listen to bachata

word count: 2.6k+ words

warnings: slight manga spoiler (timeskip)!! wrote this as gn as i could, but thought of a f!reader when i wrote it, sorry if i offend anyone. dancing gets steamy and suggestive. mentions and implications of sex, not proofread at all

a/n: i added some songs that i felt vibed with the character so feel free to listen to them if you want. gets repetitive at one point. this is also my second time trying to post this so uhhhhh apologies

iwaizumi:

the birthday boy!!

so this man, i just know he knows how to dance bachata

i mean he went to uni in california, there’s a ton of hispanics and latinos there bro

i know for a fact he befriended one of them and by default, he was dragged to a party at one point

which is exactly where you are right now

you and iwa were invited to a mutual friend’s little sisters quince

so, you’re both sitting at a table as the music is roaring through the sound system

the moment iwa hears romeo santo’s voice begin to ring through the room, he’s instantly standing up, stretching his hand to you

propuesta indecente or odio vibe mega hard with this man

“let’s go”

“go where?” you asked, not really expecting iwaizumi to be into dancing

“dance, of course. unless you don’t want to?” a nervous expression was on his face now.

“you know how to dance to this type of music?”

“of course i do, i’m what you call cultured”

so you take his hand and walk onto the dance floor with him

you kinda know the basics of the dance style so you’re not too nervous when you get into your own space of the dance floor

he put his hands in front of his body, a hint for you take them as he slowly began to lead you in the dance

you both kept your distance at first and you couldn’t help but admire the sensual way his body was moving

you both moved in accordance to the songs beat before he pulled a quick on you

he intertwined your fingers on one hand and allowed his other hand to travel down your waist

feeling extra confident in himself, he pulled you into his body and slotted one of his thighs between your own

not stopping your movements whatsoever

“wasn’t that awfully smooth of you, mr. iwaizumi?”

“you already know it. gotta keep you on your toes, no?”

to which you laugh at bc being with him is already a treat in itself

definitely has you wrap both your arms around his neck so you can be closer

he has one arm hanging lowly your waist while the other sneakily settles onto your upper thigh

very smooth and touchy man

iwa makes sure to hold you so incredibly close while smoothly maneuvers you both across your little spot on the floor

he definitely spins you when he finds it necessary

would for sure end up kissing you during a song

maybe a cheesy ass dip at the end, even if doesn’t seem to fit the song

all in all, 1000000/10 dance partner

would let him maneuver me any way he wants

nishinoya:

this is gonna be so self-indulgent so apologizes beforehand

so, in my head, noya travels the world a lot

and he’s a latin/hispanic king in the eyes of many so yes he’s visited various of these countries. you go along with him too ofc

and yes, he can dance bachata and various other dance styles

unlike iwa, he’s a lot intimate about this bc he’s the ultimate simp

he’d do anything to have your body pressed tightly against his own

especially if you’re wearing something irresistible

also unlike iwa, he vibes best with prince royce bc in my head they’re both like more upbeat and wholesome? idk if that makes sense but it does in my head

def incondicional or darte un beso vibes

BUT if he’s feeling frisky that night, definitely see te robaré

mans would not ask you if you want to dance

he’d DRAG you out to dance

strong believer that it’d be a good first for your relationship bucket list

“yuu, where are we going?”

“to dance, duh.”

“you didn’t even ask me though…”

“don’t have to! i know you’ll love it.”

“love what?”

“this.” he instantly pulls you into his body, wide smirk on his face

there’s virtually no space between you two

can’t even slip a piece of paper between you two

your breath hitches at the close proximity, you can feel his breath against the shell of your ear

who knew noya could be this smooth?

your mind is definitely thinking of other activities but you come back to earth when he begins to dance to the beat

one, two, three, (four)

he makes sure to keep you in beat

while also making sure he can feel every ridge of your body on his own

your arms are wrapped loosely around his neck

has his around your waist

he likes sneaking playful gropes in your ass or even waist if he wants to be more innocent

mans is touchy touchy, that’s the way to describe him easily

LOVES to spin you and also loves to be spun

your full body is in motion with this man and you’re not going in just one direction, you’re moving every which way (very organized tho)

sneaks in kisses between spins

also an amazing partner and bc i am an extra simp for this libero i rate him a 10000000/10

bokuto:

also an honorary member of the hispanic/latino community

very very cultured man

he plays pro volleyball so he’s bound to travel to other countries

honestly, he’s never practiced bachata with a partner

he has seen people do it though so he has a very general idea of how to dance it

bokuto is currently on an away game on a different country and he flew you out

simp, you know?

you guys went to a club, destress a little and just let loose

definitely vibes with monchy & alexandria bc the vibes are immaculate, especially on hoje en blanco and dos locos

anything that’s fast-paced and all-around energetic is perfect for mr. bokuto

also does not ask you to dance

but instead of just dragging you, he pleads for you with his eyes

puppy dogs before glancing between you and the pile of bodies dancing

you HAVE to take the hint or else he’ll be really bummed out

bokuto: 🥺👀🥺

you: ???

bokuto, in bold: 🥺👀🥺

you sigh at this, “kou, would you like to go dance?”

”i thought you’d never ask, babe! c’mon let’s go!” he’s literally beaming

you’re dragged away right after that

similarly to noya, he loves having your body pressed to his

but bc he’s not as experienced, he keeps you at a safe distance so he doesn’t accidentally step on you or something

that changes once he gets more confident

or when he sees a couple do something he wants to try with you

also loves to spin you

loves pressing your back to his chest and dancing like that for a bit before spinning you back around so he can see your pretty face

holding onto your hips and helping guide them just the way he likes

loves pressing his thigh between your own, might make you come closer so he can feel you better

also likes groping you, with consent ofc

sometimes he gets too distracted with the way you’re moving that he loses count of the beat and ends up messing up

part of the distraction would come from him smooching you anytime he please which makes you guys stumble a few times

that’s okay though

he makes up for his mistakes in energy and enthusiasm

how would i rank this man? hmm

1000/10 very fun to be around so he’s a very fun dance partner

yamaguchi:

hate to say it but mans does not know how to dance bachata

sorry yamaguchi stans, just had to to say

man works in electronics!!!

hardly goes out as it is

but you eventually get him to leave the house every once in a while

one of those times being rn, at a co-worker’s party

you honestly can’t remember what it’s for but there’s loud music playing

also gives me prince royce vibes but like,,, early prince royce, ya dig?

i’m talking corazón sin cara and even soy el mismo bc bro y’all are soft

you’d have to take the lead with him for the first few minutes of the song

maybe seconds bc he’s a quick learner, especially if he’s observing

this man is the only one who’d actually ask you to dance before even trying to drag you out of your seat

he looks at you with these cute eyes bc man is love in with you

“do you wanna go dance? this song looks like fun.”

“ashi, do you know how to dance this type of song?”

“well, no, but i want to try with you. do you want to?”

who are you to say no?

so unlike the other three, he’s a lot sweeter and maybe even shy while you’re dancing

idk if y’all know but he’s basically a little kid trying to dance with you

you guys keep like an arms distance and probably do not get much closer

you guys do move your arms around and bring them a tad bit closer to spice things up

but otherwise, you guys won’t get too close, especially bc this is his first time dancing bro bachata

lots of soft gazes

he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world and that shit’s cute

loves complimenting you as you’re both dancing

all in all it’s just a pure moment, nothing too spicy for the first time around or second for that matter

10/10 dance partner, learns quickly but still not too confident in himself

tendou:

KING!! HE IS THE MAN IVE BEEN SIMPING OVER FOR A WHILE

cheeky mf would be so good at this

does he know how to dance it?

but he’s the fastest learner and also very very sensual with these sort of thing so he’s amazing

idk what he does as a profession but he’s still the same person from high school, just a tad more professional in the workplace

gives me the fattest aventura vibes (if you haven’t realized i don’t know much about bachata, murder me)

obsesión and el malo vibe or maybe even los infieles

very similar to iwaizumi and his way of dancing bachata

but less smooth and more cheeky

very very cheeky

“baby, let’s go dance”

“yeah, give me a min-“

you do not get a minute, his big hand is already instantly wrapping around your arm to pull you up

“tori, do you even know how to dance to this?”

he laughs, “no, i’m smooth but not that smooth.”

you’re left a little confused but the moment he pulls you in tightly, your worries disappear

“just follow my lead,” he whispers in a seductive voice

he places on hand on your waist and the other holding yours just at your waist level

he instantly slots his thigh between your own and leads you guys through your spot on the floor

loves when you pop your hip to the beat

as every moment passes, he pulls you closer and closer

to the point where all you can breathe is his cologne and the alcohol in his breath

might lean down to press a few teasing kisses to your neck

mans might even grind his crotch down on your thigh

he wants to leave you as flustered as possible

was this a plan for him to take you back home so he could ravage your body? maybe, but he won’t admit, that’s the fun in it

also loves to spin you but he does it outward so he can catch a full look of how you’re dressed

bites his lip when he sees you enjoying himself

ceo of dirty compliments in your ear as you’re both dancing

LOVES LOVES LOVES seeing your flustered face as you guys are so so so close

he’d for sure try and start a makeout session in the middle of the song

something about the passionate atmosphere between all the couples, really gets him going

also sneaks in gropes along with the grinding

once he realizes how much he loves dancing to this music, he wants to go out and do it more

rate for this man?

100000000000/10 broke the scale plenty of times

i want to be his dance partner, please 😔😔

oikawa:

HE LIVES IN ARGENTINA

HE KNOWS ALL ABOUT ARGENTINIAN CULTURE AND AND OTHER HISPANIC/LATIN COUNTRIES

YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE

anyway, he takes you guys to a bar as well

you’re visiting him so he has to show you the best parts of the country and this is the end of your day

the spanish music blaring through the speakers gets him in such a great mood bc he wants to have his own little spanish opera moment with you

also gives me aventura vibes but the lighter more romantic music of it

very playful with it

def un beso and dile al amor or even ella y yo if he wants to get spicy with it (even if it’s like a mix of reggaetón and bachata, maybe pop, idk i’m whitewashed 😔)

“my love, do you want to go and dance with me? i love this song.”

“since when do you dance, tooru?” you tease him

“i’ve been a cultured man since i’ve landed in this beautiful country”

“really now?”

“yeah, would you like a demonstration, y/n/n?”

YOU CANNOT SAY NO TO HIM

especially not when he’s looking down at you with this smug grin on his face

does things to you, ngl

he pulls you up and instantly wraps an arm around your waist as he leads you towards the dance floor

he knows how to dance so he instantly rests his hand on your lower back

takes the lead without telling you, you have to have faith him and his skills

sways you both PERFECTLY in beat

his other hand is at his side but he is not stuff at all

his body is loose with it, just the way it should be

asks you to wrap your arms around his neck maybe even asks you to hold onto his cheek and give him a smooch

has you giggling the entire time bc he’s such a dork but he’s your dork

SPANISH SPANISH SPANISH

he sings the lyrics to you in such a quiet voice just for you two to hear

he has an accent when he’s singing bc it’s like his third language but it’s still the cutest thing ever

also loves praising you in spanish or even giving you spanish nicknames

“te miras tan hermosa, bailando conmigo así, mi amor.”

you either know what it means or you don’t

if you do, you’ll blush and come up with an equally cute spanish compliment

“gracias, mi rey. te vas tan chulo debajo de esta luz.” (thank you, my king. you look so good/cool underneath this lighting)

or you don’t have a clue what he said but he said in such a low tone that you assume he said something nice

“i said that you look so gorgeous, dancing with me like this, my love.” he laughs at the lost expression on your face

his laugh is contagious so you end up laughing as well before leaning in to connect your lips, as the song begins to dwindle down

also enjoys twirling you about when it’s appropriate, adds in to the giggly fun part of him as a dance partner

now, i’m not a simp for oikawa but i would simp for him over him if he offered to be my dance partner

i rate him a 100000/10 for a dance partner

206 notes · View notes

miss-tc-nova · 4 years

Text

Contagious Affection - Riku x Reader

Oh my gods! I’m so sorry this took so long! Life’s been crazy, you know, but I’ve been thinking about it ever since you asked. Thankfully, things are gonna slow down for me soon and I can focus more on what I love: writing.

I hope you enjoy.

~~~~~

“Riku! Stop!”

The perpetrator freezes, shock across his face and a fist against his eye. Huffing, I slap his hand down and proceed to clean it with a wet wipe.

“Ugh, this sucks,” he grumbles, blinking awkwardly to relieve his clearly irritated eyes.

“Yes, but if you don’t keep your hands away from your face, you’re gonna make it worse and get your germs everywhere.” I point a finger at him. “And if you give me pink eye, I’m gonna make you miserable.”

Threats bounce off his resilience. “With you around, I don’t know if that’s possible.”

“Shush! No amount of smooth talk will soothe my rage if I get infected! Got it?!”

“Yeah yeah,” he says, clearly not taking me seriously.

“Good. Now go take everything off the bed so I can wash it.”

That saps his pleasantness. “Don’t you think you’re going a little overboard with this?”

“Listen, I’ve had pink eye before—it ain’t fun. I do not want it again and if all this seems excessive, it’s only because sometimes you have trouble following the really simple instructions such as STOP TOUCHING YOUR EYES!”

His hand instantly drops as he realizes what he’s doing. “Oh…”

A stern point directs him to the bottle of sanitizer on the nightstand. I’m not quite exasperated with the boy, but I will be thoroughly annoyed if I get pink eye because he can’t restrain himself.

Riku begins pulling the bed apart and I amble into the hall for clean linen. As I’m digging through the closet, the doorbell rings. Lo and behold, we have unexpected guests in Riku’s closest friends.

“Hey,” Sora greets with a beaming grin.

Kairi waves. “Hi.”

The answer is pretty much guaranteed but it’s only polite to ask. “Hey guys. What’s up?”

“Is Riku around? He promised to show us one of his master techniques he came up with,” the red-head answers.

“I’m sorry, but Riku really shouldn’t hang out today. He’s got pink eye.”

The last thing I expected from his two best friends is that they would light up at the news of Riku having a contagious infection.

“Really?!” Sora exclaims. “His eyes are pink?!”

No politeness is offered as the pair bustles past me. I close the door, a bit perturbed, and scurry after the two who have ambushed my inflicted boyfriend in the bedroom.

“Woah! Hey! What the hell?!”

“C’mon! Lemme see!” Sora demands, practically scaling the taller boy while Kairi watches expectantly.

“Sora! Get off!”

That’s when I see the hands reaching for Riku’s face.

Snatching the back of his jacket, I tear Sora off and put myself between the sick and the visiting. “Woah woah woah! What are you doing?!”

“We just wanna see!”

Kairi puts in her defense. “Yeah. I haven’t seen his eyes change colors yet.”

It hits me what they’re thinking. “Riku doesn’t have pink eyes!” I exclaim. “He has pink eye! And he’s still contagious! Go wash your hands!”

The girl’s eyes widen as she comprehends but Sora is still clearly confused. “He what?”

I throw a finger in Riku’s direction. “Look at him! His eyes are still green; the pink is on the outside! He’s sick and you were touching his face! You’re gonna get sick if you don’t go wash your hands now!”

“You better do as they say,” warns Riku. “They’ve been disinfecting everything and threatened to tie me to a chair at least twice.”

Finally, Sora hurries off to the bathroom and Kairi asks, “Isn’t pink eye pretty mild?”

“Usually, but I had a pretty bad infection when I was little and I do not want to do that again,” I explain. “It doesn’t help that Riku keeps forgetting not to touch his face every five minutes.”

His eyes roll at my complaints and a hand instinctively reaches up to alleviate the resulting irritation. It barely takes any thought to swatting his hand.

“If I somehow make it through the next few weeks without getting it, it’ll be a miracle.”

“You’re just being dramatic,” Riku reprimands.

“No, you’re being careless,” I retort, resuming his half-finished assignment of pulling off the sheets and blankets.

Kairi and Sora visit for a while, frequently forgetting that Riku is contagious until firmly reminded. On the bright side, despite his irritation, Riku doesn’t seem all that put out by his infection—I’d hate to see him truly under the weather.

Bidding farewell, the guests take their leave and I close the door behind them.

“Those two will have pink eye this time tomorrow,” I mumble.

Riku agrees, “Probably—Sora touched his face like half a dozen times in the last hour.” Returning my full focus to the job of cleaning the apartment, I stroll towards the kitchen. “What are you doing now?”

“I gotta make dinner. But I’m gonna be lazy and just do mac and cheese.”

A grip on my shoulder pulls me around so he can lead back towards the sofa. “Will you slow down for a moment. You’ve been going non-stop since we got back from the clinic. Take a break.”

He’s right but while I want to just collapse and spend some time with the sickie, there’s a lot to clean to make sure the contagions don’t spread. “Riku…”

“Nope.” One more nudge puts me on the couch. “Relax. No one’s going to die, or get sick, if you take a break for ten minutes.”

Attempting to thwart his task is a beeping alarm. “And that’s the laundry.”

“If I go switch it over now, will you just sit with me for a bit?” My sigh of defeat is taken as an answer and he leaves to throw the clothes in the dryer before coming back to flop beside me. In an effort to distract me, his hands play with my fingers as we chat. It’s the most peace I’ve had since waking up to the invasive illness.

Honestly, Riku’s always been the laid back one in our relationship, versus my nitpickiness; he can roll with life’s surprises better than I can. The boy wasn’t even going to go to the clinic until I practically shoved him out the door. And though sometimes this indifference can get irritating, he’s always been a pro at keeping me from going overboard and drowning myself in self-imposed responsibilities. In the same vein, I tend to keep things a bit more orderly around here. It’s not that he’s a slob or anything but—as evident with this pink eye—some things just get away from him.

“Alright, now I really should go start dinner,” I hum. An annoying buzz sounds. “Is that the dryer?” I glance to the clock before swiping at Riku. “That was way longer than ten minutes!”

“Whoops,” he chuckles, not the least bit fazed by my attack.

“You’re terrible. How I get anything done with you around is beyond me.”

“Because you’re amazing.”

“Don’t try to butter me up,” I scoff. When he simply smiles, the reality of how hectic I’ve been today begins to set in. A soft laugh escapes me. “Geeze, how do you put up with me?”

That grin softens, becoming the embodiment of admiration; it nearly entices me to forgo dinner to indulge in his company.

That comfort falters when a ring of magenta sparks in his eyes, swallowing the teal color until all that’s left behind is that vibrant shock.

“Because I love you,” he hums.

First off, neither of us have come up with the courage to say that yet and I know I should be over the moon with delight, but I’ve never seen anything like this before so all I can do is stare. This is not the reaction he was expecting, though, and that soft happiness vanishes.

“Oh my gods! Was that too soon?! You don’t have to say it back! I—”

“Your eyes are pink!” I manage to blurt out.

It’s his turn to stare. “Yyyyeah…I have pink eye.”

“No! They aren’t green anymore—they’re pink!”

The blush flushing over his face nearly matches the color of his eyes. “O-Oh…”

“I’ve never seen this before!” I push off the sofa. “I better call the doctor and—”

Riku’s hand snatches my wrist. Looking back, I find him wearing that same warm smile—that magenta shade undulating brighter. “It’s okay; it’s a dream eater thing.”

This is where he has to explain to me what a dream eater is, how he ended up becoming one, and that his eyes occasionally change color depending on his emotions.

“Is this what those two were talking about when they wanted to see your pink eyes?” I ask after.

“Yeah.”

“Oh thank gods—I was really worried about their sanity for a moment.”

“You should still be worried,” the young man teases.

We share a laugh but as I watch him, I can’t help noticing the brightness in his eyes. “So, if the color depends on your mood, what does pink mean?”

I half expected the guy to break out in another full blush, but instead it only accents his cheeks as he smirks. “I know you’re smart enough to figure it out.”

I’d kiss him if I wasn’t afraid of his pink eye, the sickness not the eye color. Still, I follow his lead: “I love you too.”

~~~~~

The next day…

“I told you guys if you weren’t careful you were gonna get it too,” I scold, smacking Sora’s hand from his face with a wet wipe. “Stop touching your eyes!”

He complains, “But it itches!”

“I don’t care!” I snap, turning my glare on Kairi who’s halfway to rubbing her eyes. “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna put eye patches on both of you and tie you to chairs!”

“They’re not joking,” Riku adds, giving me the side eye. “I was stuck at the kitchen table for three hours this morning.”

“See? Don’t tempt me,” I say, eyeing the sulking pair. I swear, getting these two to resist the urge to rub their eyes is worse than keeping the seagulls at the pier away from food.

When there are no more complaints, I stalk into the kitchen to start dinner, of which I now have to make extra.

“Thanks for taking care of them,” Riku hums, having followed.

“It’s fine. We knew they were gonna catch it,” I reply, washing potatoes in the sink. A little simper takes over. “But they aren’t gonna tell me they love me and get glowing eyes too, are they?”

“No,” he sighs. “Just me.”

“Just for me?” I coo.

Riku chuckles. “Just for you.”

Putting aside the food, I tug at his shirt. “Say it.” I’ve made this demand a few times already so it’s no wonder he just laughs. “Come on, please. Say it!”

I could fly our whole apartment building with the butterflies raging in my stomach at the sight of that fuchsia flash. With absolute adoration, he snakes his arms around my waist and nuzzles against my nose.

“I love you.”

Delighted, I bury my face in his chest, squeezing as tight as I can. His chin nudging against my forehead makes me look back.

“Your turn now,” he insists.

Without hesitation and knowing that I one hundred percent mean it, I respond, “I love you too.”

“Good, because now you’re probably gonna get pink eye,” he snickers, indicating our close proximity.

“Shit!”

#riku #kh riku #riku x reader #riku kingdom hearts #novas requests #gender neutral reader

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ladymiseria · 4 years

Text

Smut Alphabet - Hawks

It’s big simpin’ hours for everyone’s favorite bird brain hawk man. Let’s do itttt

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

-Hawks will wrap you up in his arms and immediately cuddle the shit out of you. Lots of words of love and affirmation and reassurance and also kisses all over your face. He needs to make sure you feel safe and comfortable, especially if it was a particularly intense session.

In terms of what he needs/wants, it’s very similar. He wants to be held and cuddled and fawned over a bit, and he likes to be reassured, as well.

B = Body (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

-ASS MAN. Hawks loves that BOOTY and he is not shy about it. He’s always touching it, smacking it, or even just ogling it. He loves slipping his hand in your back pocket when you’re out together and will never pass up an opportunity to fluster you in public by giving your ass a sly squeeze.

Honorable mention is thighs! God damn, he loves him some soft thighs in every way.

Hawks doesn’t spare much thought when it comes to his own body, except for, unsurprisingly, his wings: they are the key component of his image, after all. He takes a lot of pride in keeping them clean and smooth. They’re also incredibly sensitive, so he never lets anyone touch them besides himself and you, of course. In fact, if you play with his wings juuuuust right, he can get off from that alone.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

-He insists on coming inside (especially if he’s in rut), whether that means downstairs or in your mouth.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

-Dom the shit out of this man and make him submit to you; he gets off to it super hard.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

-Hawks has always been popular and attractive so sexual encounters have never been difficult for him to come by (no pun intended). Rest assured that he very much knows what he’s doing. That said, he’s never had any kind of serious relationship before you, though.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

-Hawks is hitting that shit from behind every chance he gets: he needs easy access to that booty obviously

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

-Hawks loves to be goofy and cute and have fun with you in the moment. He can definitely be serious, too, but he loves teasing and getting to have some sweet, fun sexy times with you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

-Hawks keeps himself clean and trimmed up, especially now that he’s in a serious relationship. He also always makes it a point to wear the cologne you’d taken a liking to.

Random headcanon: Hawks smells like old leather and dark, warm musky cologne.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

-Hawks is super romantic! He loves just kissing and caressing every part of you, telling you how much you mean to him, how much he loves you, and how beautiful he thinks you are. He’s chosen you as his lifelong mate and he’ll never let you forget why.

Outside of the bedroom, Hawks still maintains the romance. He’s always got a hold on you when you’re out and adores taking you out to eat or on dates to different places. His more bird-like tendencies also mean that he’s constantly buying trinkets and shiny things for you as tokens of affection.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

-He doesn’t masturbate much anymore (it reminds him of a significantly lonelier time). He only really indulges if he has to be away from you for longer than usual or if he’s in rut (and you’re not available to help him out).

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

-Breeding, bondage, dom/sub, overstimulation, edging, light impact play, pegging, degradation AND praise, wing play (is that even a thing? It is now, I guess), snowballing, body worship

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

-Honestly? He’s not super picky. He’s just as happy to take you in his bed as he is to take you on the roof of a high-rise. He’s cocky and a bit of an exhibitionist, truth be told, so he doesn’t much care about getting caught.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

-Play with his wings, particularly near the base where they connect to his back. The small bit of skin between his wings is also incredibly sensitive.

If we’re being honest, it’s not the least bit difficult for you to seduce Hawks: you manage it without even trying a good amount of the time. That said, some foolproof methods are: making out, neck kisses, give him The Look (I’m sure you know what I mean).

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

-Hawks is kinda selfish and possessive so he’s not really willing to share you with anyone else. He’s also not too keen on hurting you aside from the normal impact play/biting.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

-Hawks is so God damn good at oral. Like really fucking good. And he knows it and will weaponize that shit. He loves giving and how you squirm and moan and pull his hair and grab his wings: he’d eat you every day if you’d let him. He loves receiving, too, but giving is really where his horny little heart is.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

-Hawks doesn’t really have a default pace: it all depends on the situation and he’s exceptionally good at reading the room, so to speak. The only time he really loses control is during rut when his animal brain takes over and he needs to have you until his body literally gives out.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

- Not his go-to, but he can definitely get down with it if it works best for the situation (and with how easily worked up he gets).

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

-Hawks is an open-minded dude, so he’s down to try a lot of shit at least once, especially if you’re really gunning for it.

I touched on this a little earlier, but he’s also not really bothered by the thought of someone catching him messing around with you. It would just be an opportunity to show off, in his mind.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

-Hawks can go for quite a few rounds (and don’t even think about when he’s in rut because HOO BOY THAT’S A WHOLE OTHER STORY). He’s the number 2 pro hero so you know his stamina’s top tier.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

-First off, I am firmly in the #peghawks2020 camp so you KNOW he’s gettin’ the strap on the reg.

Anyway, yeah, Hawks can get down with some toys. He actually likes to use his feathers as toys from time to time, too.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

-He likes to tease, but not too much. Frankly, he’s just kind of impatient and gets too worked up himself from the teasing. You’re cute when you’re flustered, though, and he wouldn’t give up that sight for the world.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

-Boy can get LOUD when he’s really in the zone. Moans, growls, whimpers, it’s all on the menu. He’s also prone to making pleased little chirping noises or warbles when you give him affection, complete with some wing twitches for good measure.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

-I have many but I guess I’ll just pick my favorite: Hawks loves to dance with you. Doesn’t matter what kind, he just can’t get enough of watching your body move and feeling you against him. He can also feel the vibrations of the music in his feathers and it can be very stimulating.

Dancing also plays into the bird thing as male birds often “dance” in an attempt to seduce a mate, and Hawks is no different. Sometimes when he’s dancing with you, his wings will flap and puff out like he’s peacocking for you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

-Hawks has been training his body since he was a kid so he is in fantastic shape. He’s not super tall, but he’s slim while maintaining that good muscle definition. He’s stronger than he looks.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

-It’s HELLA high, y’all, mostly because he’s obsessed with you. But yeah, he’s almost always in the mood to fool around.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

-Hawks gets wiped out after sex and you often have to keep him from passing out right you finish. He just wants to snuggle up to you and doze off ‘cause he’s so happy and content and comfortable. Even if he’s in rut, he still needs to be holding you when he’s finally spent and ready for sleep.

#smut alphabet #abcs of smut #Boku no Hero Academia #Hawks #Keigo Takami #My Hero Acadamia #anime #manga #headcanon #Takami Keigo

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miioouu · 4 years

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Anuke from the prompt list with Dabi and Shigaraki

Oof sry this one turned out longer than i thought, I'll post the dabi one later this week. Thank you for requesting!! ❤️💜❤️ Warning: smut...

Anuke: Goddess of war...

Being a hero has it pros and cons. Sure you got to save people, have fun doing something you love. But a not so fun part about your job was the fights you had with the villains. Well usually it wasn't that big of a deal for you. You were strong and could take down any villain. But there's just this one guy who always got on your nerves. And it's not because you didn't seem to know how to defeat him, nor was it his insults and crude words. No, it was more the look that he sends your way every time your body hit the floor, making heat rush between your legs. It was the smirk he shoots your way every time you failed an attack, making your legs shake beneath you. It was more the lewd thoughts that would take over you when you came back home. It was more the fact that you couldn't help but touch yourself thinking about him, how his calloused hands would roam all over your body, how his body odor would fill your nose making you moan and whimper. How could a villain make you feel that way?

Luckily for you, Shigaraki has taken interest in you, so much that he even follows you around, sneaking into your house only to listen to you moaning his name and touching yourself thinking about him. Honestly, as a hero, shouldn't you be aware of his presence? Well he is thankful that you were so oblivious. As much as he wanted to take you right there and then, he had other plans... He wanted to see you crumble, shake beneath him, he wanted to humiliate you, wreak you and use you over and over again. He hates you, he hates how you made blood rush down his cock, making him hard and unable to think about anything else that fucking you. He had plans, and he's just waiting for the right moment.

Fights, battles, got you sweating, hero costume clenching around your body, heavy pants and groans, what a sight for Shigaraki. Just you existing turned him on more than he'd like to admit it. Seeing how tired you are, maybe now is the right time to execute his plan. Easily, he pushed you in a dark alleyway, thank god it was nighttime. Surprisingly, well not really since he knew about all the dirty things you'd do with him in your mind, you didn't fight too much. Maybe you were tired, maybe you were really turned on, mind hazy from the fight, or from the lust. You didn't really care, you just couldn't believe what was happening.

Chapped lips brushing against your soft skin, fingers trying to free you from your outfit. Now your hands pulling him closer and closer to you, yet you wanted to push away from you. You wanted to yell at him, yet all you did was moan his name. What has gotten into you? Having enough with the costume, he'd just tear it apart, now your body fully exposed to him. Back hitting the cold stone wall behind you, magical contrast from your burning hot skin. Shigaraki couldn't keep his hands to himself, shooting straight to your breast, pulling and kneading, playing with the hardening nipple, while his mouth was occupied on your collarbone, kissing and biting . Making sure to mark you, making you bleed reminder of his need for you. "Tell me, is this what you think of when touching that pretty pussy of yours? Or is it much better baby?" His husky voice filling your ears, though his words hit you like a truck. How did he know that you touch yourself thinking about him? Sending him a look, he quickly chuckled, deep and smooth laughter filling the air." Oh you think I wouldn't find out about your dirty secret baby? You're so naughty, dripping just thinking about me, is this why you can never beat me? Is it because you want my dick shoved in your pretty mouth? Fuck you Y/n. I hate you so much!" His words sending you to another dimension.

Head thrown back as his fingers circled around your clit, teasing you, breaking you. Pulling away from you only to push you down on your knees, not even waiting for you, he shoved his cock past your lips, so deeply into your throat. He didn't give you time, as his hands flew to your hair, holding your head steady as he started thrusting in and out your throat. Too much, too big, tears staining your cheeks as your eyes focused on his face. Lost in the pleasure, eyes rolling back as deep groans escaped his dry lips. He was so close, so close, but he stopped himself. Yanking you by the hair, pulling you back to your feet. He crashed his lips to yours, tongue slipping past your heavenly lips, exploring every wet corner, only pulling back when you tried to get more. Whining at the lost of contact, you were far too into it to come back to your senses, far too into it to realize what you were doing…

Turning you so you faced the wall, and bending you. Hand coming hard on your ass. Enjoying the way it jiggled and reddened, he spanked you again, and again until you were a whimpering mess. Finally pushing your face onto the wall, hands on your hips to steady you, he pushed into you. Deep, slow thrust at first, cherishing the way your walls clenched on his shaft, like you were the perfect mold for him. But as he heard you begging for more, he lost control, picking up his pace. Thrusting in and out then in and out of you, the only sound that can be heard was the slapping of skin on skin and your sweet, sweet moans of his name. Pulling your hair so he can have a better look of your face. Tears returning, mouth open as your tongue stuck out of it, making your drool hit the floor beneath you. Couldn't help himself, one of his fingers slid down and started playing with your clit, rubbing and pinching it, making you see stars. He knew you were close by the way your legs were trembling, your walls were squeezing him oh so tight. "Come on baby, come for me you dirty slut. I hate every single thing about you but… God you feel so good around me. I want to fuck you like that everyday, I want to break you over and over again, teach you for touching yourself and keeping it a secret from me. Such a dirty girl." Chapped lips brushing against the lobe of your ear, voice making you reach your high, cuming around his cock as you screamed so loudly, you're surprised no one has seen you yet. Feeling you milking him, hearing you worshiping him, sent him to his release, finishing inside you as he bit down your shoulder to muffle his sound.

Being a hero has it pros and cons. Sure you got to face villains, break some bones and sometimes barely making it out alive. But at least you got to something to look for now after every battle. You had Shigaraki to worship after every fight….

#bnha #bnha smut #bnha Shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki smut #bnha x reader #request #bnha imagines #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x reader

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qrows-little-valkyrie · 4 years

Photo

Qrow thought Nora had been acting strange lately, which is saying something when it came to the loud redhead. Though, it wasn’t out of the ordinary for her either, if that made sense to literally any other human being but him and her. Strange yet ordinary really did fit Nora’s usual behavior, and Qrow was worried that he was starting to except that.

No, Nora was easily distracted, her passions and attention jumped from one thing to another at the drop of a hat, making the already unpredictable girl that much more of a mystery at the best of times. What Qrow was referring to was her kinks and fetishes, honestly, used to her sudden shifts in mood and hunger when it came to the bedroom.

Some days Nora had an oral fixation, wanting the hung stud to play with, fuck, abuse, and use her mouth and throat like his personal cumdumpster for hours and even days until she jumped to something else. Sometimes she wanted him to chain her to their bedframe and degrade her like he’d never expect the usually bubbly buttslut to want, not that it didn’t make him harder then steal to have the beautiful little redhead open her mouth in hopes that he’d spit in her face, but hey, Qrow was starting to except that relationships were a give and take.

All that mattered was that he saw all the signs that Nora was looking for her next little fixation to latch onto, and Qrow was looking forward to it. What? Qrow admitted her mood swings were weird, but every single one always led to him stuffing one of her holes while she came all over the sheets, begging him to fuck her harder. He was starting to look forward to them, honestly.

And he think he saw which one she was feeling way before she did this time. Nora loves shaking her fat ass, that was nothing new, and he loved watching her shake her fat ass, also not new, but recently, she’s been taking every little chance she could to back up right against his dick and start jiggling her ass. Fun when they’re alone and he can do something about it, not so much when they’re in public where people can see her purposefully wiggle her ass against his cock through their clothes.

So Qrow figured she was in a twerking mood, or at least a grinding mood, either sound fine by him if it means he gets to see that bubble butt shake and bounce in his face and against his cock.

Which is why he found himself in the ever famous Butt Slut clubroom, completely empty right now besides him, dressed in a sleeveless grey hoodie and loose black basketball shorts. He actually just got out of the gym with Nora when she went quite for a few seconds then led him to the clubroom with an excited pep in her step, finally realizing what she was craving, he assumed.

So there he sat back on the soft couch facing the slightly raised stage in the middle of the room, waiting for Nora to come out of the back changing room to do whatever it was she wanted to do, which he had a pretty good idea what that was.

Music started blasting through the rooms built in surround sound, the deep bass bumping throughout the room while Nora’s small, curvy figure made it’s way to the stage, up the stairs, and towards the edge of the stage where her Daddy sat patiently for her to start her show.

Nora loved being the center of attention, always has been, even as a slutty little airhead she loved being watched, loved the feeling of being watched while she showed off her hard earned body. But, ever since she met Qrow, she only wanted to be his center of attention~ And that meant she wanted to show off every single curvy, slutty, jiggly curve just for him~

She was dressed in her usual work out gear, from the pink headband, tight white sleeveless top, and white elbow compression sleeves. On her feet were her pink and white sneakers, on her knees the same compression sleeves as her arms. She really had just gotten out of the gym with her Daddy, so it was safe to say that her usually white top was slightly see through with her sweat as she cocked her wide, sultry hips to the side while looking down her Daddy hungrily from the stage.

Nora slowly swung her hips side to side, bending at the waist as she gyrated her child bearing hips and massive bubble butt behind her, giving her Daddy a nice look down between her perky, jiggly breasts. Her warm cleavage shining with a light sheen of sweat that made her already pale, soft skin look even more delicious and pristine. Qrow knew the small redhead had a thing for his musk after he got done working out, but he was man enough to admit Nora had a intoxicatingly sweet, spicy smell of a women who worked her massive ass off to get all that jiggle, and he loved it.

Nora leaned closer to the man, bent way low down at the waist while squishing and bouncing her breasts together inches from his face, biting her lip excitedly as the pure lust in his eyes. She knew Daddy wanted to shove his face between her boobies, and she would love to have his handsome face motorboating her titties until he was satisfied, but she wanted something else, and she knew Daddy loved something else about her just a little more.

Qrow looked just about ready to pounce when she leaned back and raised her arms above her head for a stretch, basking in his lustful gaze as the sweat dripped down her slightly visible abs. The older man realized that she didn’t seem to have changed from her outfit she was working out in, which was strange considering she went to the changing room.

Nora felt good, looked good, the music picking up while she did those sultry little bellydance moves Kali taught her in between lessons, her curvy body swaying and swinging as the sound of the bass getting louder. Nora slowly turned around, her hips swirling in circles that made her juicy thighs jiggle just as much as her ass as she finally turned around and gave the man a good, clear, unhidden view of her positively massive cheeks squeezed inside her obviously too small pink and white booty shorts the second the music popped off, the bass hitting harder in that moment.

Nora leaned forward and twerked her wide, slutty hips to the beat, both her fat, round, meaty globes of bubble booty bouncing and jiggling right in the man’s face while she started getting into the groove. Nora’s two cheeks were like two massive planets as they wobbled like jello in her tiny shorts, the smooth flesh of her ass rippling like two massive water balloons right there inches from her Daddy’s face.

And Qrow just couldn’t look away from that fat ass twerking for his eyes only, watching almost hypnotized by those bubbly cheeks as they bounced up and down to the beat. He found out why she went to the changing room too. Instead if her regular pink and white shorts, these were smaller, almost like a second skin that left the poor, thin fabric wedgied up between her hungry, warm crevice, and right across those two cheeks, in big, bold white letters read those two words Nora proudly claimed.

Nora squat down deeper, her hands resting on her knees in that classic pose that made her plump ass jiggle ripple and wobble twice as much as before, the two words across her ass distorting with the ripples of her flesh making it almost hard to read the words “Butt Slut” written across her ass, one word on each cheek while she started dropping down even lower till her massive ass hovered just above the ground, and literal inches in front of her Daddy’s face.

Nora looked over her shoulder with the sluttiest, naughtiest, most confident grin Qrow had ever seen on the girl, and she decided just a little jiggle wasn’t enough. Qrow had to bite his lip to keep himself from jumping her bones the moment her massive cheeks met together with nice, loud, meaty claps right in front of his nose, and his steel hard, veiny, angrily throbbing cock.

Nora clapped those massive cheeks like a slutty pro stripper, each planet like globe of pale, smooth, flawless flesh slapped together to the beat of the music while the tiny redhead ran a hand through her short hair, long lines of sparkly sweat dripping down her powerful thighs and the huge curve of her asscheeks.

Qrow swore the little teasing slut would pay for asking him not to move until she was done, his cock tenting his shorts, practically throbbing with every meaty clap. Then, suddenly, Qrow was in heaven. He saw the young girl reach back and grab a handful of his slicked back hair, biting her lip excitedly while simultaneously yanking his head forward and pressing her ass back, burying his face right between her twerking, jiggling, bouncing, rippling, hot, sweaty cheeks while she twerked her ass off.

Oh god Nora loved the feeling of that man’s handsome face between her cheeks, twerking those hips even harder to grind her needy holes right against his face as best she could, making sure she had a firm hold on his head so he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. The sweat dripped down her jiggly cheeks, knowing that it must be hot and heavy between her asscheeks right after her workout, but she just wanted to feel him so bad.

Qrow couldn’t feel or see anything but those twin globes wrap around his face and begin twerking, jiggling, and rippling around his features. Her scent was intoxicating, the heat felt like an oven, and she was still slapping her asscheeks around and against his face. Oh yeah, this little slut was going to fucking pay. The man couldn’t resist, giving that jiggly cake a nice mean bite right on her cheek, and he could only listen with satisfaction when she squealed in pain and pleasure at the sudden sting.

Nora needed more~! Oh dust she needed more~! Nora pushed the man’s face back, pushing his back against the couch while she laid her hands flat on the ground, moving from a deep squat to on her hands and knees, giving the almost feral man a look at what position she’d be in soon enough, right on her hands and knees still jiggling and twerking her ass right there in front of his face.

“Come on Daddy, we’re not done~! Pull out that fat fucking cock~!” Nora practically growled out, just as hungry and horny as the man while she slowly slid her legs apart into a perfect split right there on the edge of the stage, jiggling her cheeks while waiting for the man to whip it out.

She didn’t have to wait long, the man quickly yanking his shorts down far enough that his massive cock sprung free from it’s fabric prison, throbbing and needy. Thick, massive, and veiny, it was enough to make Nora practically drool at the sight. She could feel her puckered little backdoor twitch with need and her pussy drip in her already soaking wet panties

Nora suddenly dropped down from her split onto the ground under the stage, using the edge of the stage as a railing as she squat down low once more right against her Daddy’s lap, instantly trapping the man’s cock between her meaty cheeks as she got right back to twerking to the loud music, the heat building in the room even more while the sweat dripped down their bodies.

Nora groaned out sluttily while her Daddy grunted and snarled in pleasure at the way her absolutely massive bubble booty bounced and ground right up against his cock, sandwiched between her hot, sweaty asscheeks and jerked off with nothing but her globes of meaty flesh. She could feel the burn in her muscles as she pushed her body to please her Daddy the best way she knew how, the tip of his massive cock barely poking out over the top of her hungry asscheeks while she milked with with her twerking hips.

Qrow couldn’t get enough, running a hand through his hair while he let his Baby Girl do what she knew best. Act like his little bubble booty butt slut. All he could do was stare at his cock swallowed up between those cheeks with grit teeth.

Nora was ready to fucking burst and beg him to just take her needy little asshole right then and there, but she wanted this to go on for as long as she could take it, she had a need to twerk her cheeks till she couldn’t anymore, her dough like flesh wobbling and jiggling around his cock with every rough bounce of her hips. Then, Nora changed her plan, planting her feet on the couch on either side of her Daddy’s thighs to get a nice deep twerking squat right there in his lap and right up against his fat dick.

Qrow had to stop looking for a second the moment it happened, his head leaning back against the couch as he snarled and growled from what was happening on his fucking dick.

Meaty claps filled through as Nora once again clapped her cheeks in a slutty, deep, muscle burning twerk, but now the man’s fat cock was right between those clapping cheeks, caught in between those sweaty, hot, flexing globes of fat and muscles as they harshly slapped together around his cock with wet, meaty slaps. Oh god her Daddy’s cock was pouring precum, and she could feel how hard he was with every clap.

Qrow gathered himself and finally looked at the deliciously slutty sight the little redhead prepared for him, those skin tight shorts hugging her ass like a second skin while she clapped and twerked her ass right on his cock. The moment she leaned up and twerked harshly right against the tip of his cock. the man lost it, grabbing the girl’s shorts with a glare and a snarl and ripping the fabric in two, tearing it away from his Baby girl’s fat ass and leaving her in nothing but a pink g-string, perfect for him to brutally slap both hands down against her meaty cheeks and maul those globes like giant balls of dough while thrusting his hips up and using her asscheeks like a makeshift fleshlight.

“A-Ahhhhhh~!! Of yes~!! D-Daddy~!! F-Fuck~!!” This was it, Nora knew she had to keep going until they couldn’t take anymore, and Nora needed that fat fucking cock so bad~!! “D-Daddy~!! F-Fuck my ass~!! Fuck my asshole as hard as you can~!! Please~!!”

Qrow only replied by smacking her fat ass as hard as he could, making her squeal in pleasure and pain for the second time that night right before he pulled that g-string aside and yanked the redheaded slut’s hips right down on his cock, spearing Nora’s needy little asshole in a single, harsh, fast, brutal slam of flesh on flesh that made the couch shake.

“Y-Yyyyeeeeeeesssss~!!! F-Fuuuuuuucccckkkk~!!!” Nora squirted all over the floor in front of them in that single second, her eyes rolling up in pleasure while her tongue hung out of her mouth. She hadn’t felt this good in such a long time~!! She needed more~!! Nora didn’t wait, there was no build up, or slow pace, Nora simply lifted her massive, fat, jiggly ass up and slammed it right back down with a meaty clap of her ass meeting her Daddy’s hips, yanking his cock out of her hole and slamming it right back in without a single thought of the pleasure she’d feel.

Qrow could feel his cock throbbing harder then ever, his balls already ready to spray cum out and paint this little whore’s insides white with his thick batter.

Nora lifted her ass again with a squeal, slamming back down just as fast, over and over again as fast as she possibly could, the frantic, loud, wet, hot, needy slaps of her ass meeting his hips while his cock gouged her tiny asshole for all it was worth filled room along with their mixed snarls and squeals.

“Fuuuuuccckkk~!! Yeeesh~!!! Daddy~!! M-My asshole feel sho good Daddy~!!! Fuck my b-butthole Daddy~!!! Please~!!!” Nora felt every single inch scrape and fill her sensitive little fucktunnel, turning her brains to much when he suddenly started thrusting up to meet her bouncing, the intensity increasing twofold as drool and tears dripped down Nora’s beautiful, fucked stupid face. Her insides felt like they were on fire, and she felt so fucking full~!! Nora’s legs were ready to give out from under her, and she knew she couldn’t keep this blistering, brutal, butt fucking pace~!!

“Grrrrr!!! You little fucking slutty bitch!!!” Qrow suddenly snarled in Nora’s ear, grabbing a nice fistful of her orange hair and suddenly throwing them both to the floor in front of the couch, forcing his Baby Girl’s face down against the cold ground and yanking her fat, jiggly, meaty ass into place high up in the air for him to use and fuck however he wanted. Just like she was meant to be. Qrow slammed his hips forward and gouged Nora’s little asshole even harder then before, using every ounce of her Huntsmen strength to fuck the little butt slut into the ground. “God FUCK!! Keep, fucking, squealing, you fucking whore!!” Qrow wanted to hear that usually innocent voice say nasty, slutty, vile things while he fucked her ass raw.

“Yesh Daddy~!!! I’m yo-ahh~!! I’m you’re slutty little bitch~!!! I’m Daddy’s buttslut~!!!” Nora’s arms went limp as her face was forced against the cold ground, the pleasure overwhelming her empty little head, tears streaming down her face while her eyes crossed in pleasure she’s never felt before. “I-I love my big mean Daddy so much~!!!! I love my Daddy’s cock so much~!!!”

Qrow’s hips were a blur, his hips slapping against Nora’s so fast it sounded like a, overworked piston, his massive cock making her tiny, sore, abused, needy little hole a gaping, precum filled, frothy mess. He snarled and growled, slapping his Baby Girl’s ass as hard as he could as much as he liked, but he wanted more. He wanted her to know she belonged to him and only him! Just the thought of her anywhere else but under him made him fucking livid.

Suddenly, the man let go of Nora’s red hair and replaced it with his sneaker covered foot, forcing her head against the ground with his foot while he finally fucked her with every single ounce of his strength., His teeth gritting from the pleasure of it all.

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH~!!!!!!” Nora’s eyes completely crossed while she came her brains out under the man, her head pressed down while the man fucked her harder then she’d ever been fucked before, her pussy squirting and leaking all over her meaty thighs and the solid floor. Nora cried out, tears pouring down her face while the man tried his best to make sure she never forgot who she belonged to.

“FUCK!!!” Qrow couldn’t hold it any longer, his hips jackhammering into Nora’s little asshole harder then he’d ever fucked a hole in his life, her whole body quaking and rocking from the force, her massive ass jiggling and rippling from the impacts. He couldn’t take it any longer, his pace doubling for just a few seconds longer until Qrow slammed in balls deep one final time with a last meaty clap, his balls slapping against Nora’s dripping pussy while his cock clenched and finally let loose a massive torrent of bubbling, steaming hot, stringy cum into Nora’s tiny little asshole, filling it so much it sprayed out the sides of his cock.

Both of them couldn’t hold back their snarl or squeal of pleasure as the man finally filled her tiny backdoor, the room going silent besides Nora’s whimpers and Qrow’s heavy breathing.

The man slumped, wincing as he slowly pulled his still hard, but extremely sensitive cock free from his Baby Girl’s asshole with a nice, wet, hot pop as his head popped free from her now gaping, leaking, twitching, abused little asshole. The man watched almost proudly as his cum poured out of her gaping asshole and onto her thighs, streaming down her legs to make a small puddle on the floor.

He leaned back against the couch, sat on the floor as he admired the view. Nora was face down, ass up, a fucked stupid look on her face while her gaping asshole poured out his cum, her twitching and shaking being the only thing that told him she was still awake.

He couldn’t resist. Qrow reached up, patted around the couch for his scroll, before finally finding it and snapping a few photos of his Baby Girl’s position, and her status.

He was about to snap another when Nora shakily pushed herself to her hands and knees, looking over her shoulder with the biggest, sluttiest, most loving smile he’d ever seen on the girl.

“Daddy~ That was amazing~” Nora was still a little cock drunk, slurring her words as she turned around and crawled towards the man, slowly reaching him until they were face to face where she planted a nice, warm, loving kiss on his lips, one he couldn’t help but return. Nora was happy with that, her arms giving out so her head landed in the man’s lap, his half hard, cum covered cock resting against her face for all but a second before she began cleaning it like a good little slut, noisily slurping and sucking the cum off the man’s cock, gentle as she could.

Qrow was amazed, looking down at the small girl with shock and something else as she looked up, showed him all his cum in her mouth, tongue swirling it around, before she finally gulped it down with a smile, looking up at him as if expecting a reward.

“Thank you Daddy~ I love you~” Nora laid her head down in the man’s lap, half awake, asshole still gaping, sweaty and tired beyond belief. Then she heard what made her wanna jump for joy, but she settled for a little giggle as the man laid his hand on her head, stroking her hair gently.

“I love you too, Baby Girl.”

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annakie · 3 years

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After starting my new job in the fall, I have uh.. upgraded my rig a bit. I joked on Twitter the other day that it’s name is now “The Wind, Baby!”

Boring computer talk and some stats under the cut.

I have the same case, but I’ve swapped out nearly every other component of my machine in the last couple of months... including the video card. Look, I know that the 3090 FE isn’t technically a “Gaming Card” (even though it was advertised as such) and Gamers Nexus tore it to shreds for the claims, but I’d been trying to get a 3080 for MONTHS and I was actually able to find a 3090 FE at retail price (on Best Buy’s website and picked it up in-store), it was the only thing available and I was tired of waiting so uh... yeah. It took me awhile to justify pulling the trigger and I almost didn’t go pick it up.

It’s not the card I wanted, but I decided to keep it, and I’m now happy with that decision.

I justified it to myself by telling myself I’m gonna skip the 40XX series all together so really I’m spending the same amount on this card as I would have for two XX80 cards. Plus I sold my 2060 that I had before to offset the cost a bit more. The pricetag was still insane for a single piece of hardware but... welp. I can have a little insanity, as a treat.

Setting literally everything to ultra and getting amazing framerates is really nice, though, gotta say.

My biggest regret is that the FE series don’t have RGB. Like, it looks very sleek and high end, and yeah there is that little bit of white lighting, but I really would have liked pretty lights like my 2060 RTX had. I know I could add a light strip or something but it’s not the same. Also worried that I may need to buy a brace, though most people say you don’t need it. IDK.

Also, I need to buy other fans for the front case fans, which you can’t see in the pics because the ones I have were pretty nice fans when I bought them, but they’re also just like, static purple LEDs (which are invisible to the naked eye but the purple is clearly visible in those pics) and I’d like to be able to control the colors a bit more.

I set the lights (and entire case) to a Tom Servo theme for now though, and I’m happy with it, but eventually I’ll probably do other things with it. Maybe need to dig up a few other small toys that won’t obstruct airflow to theme it out with. Why isn’t there a Kaidan action figure!?

Putting this here more as a reference for myself when people ask what my hardware is so I don’t have to go back and pull the list from where I bought them anymore:

Motherboard: MSI MAG Z490 Tomahawk Gaming Motherboard Processor: Intel Core i5-10600K Desktop Processor CPU Fan: Cooler Master Hyper 212 RGB Black Edition CPU Air Cooler RAM: Corsair Vengeance RGB PRO 16GB (2x8GB) DDR4 3200MHz C16 LED Desktop Memory - Black (I replaced the fan with one of the ones below.) GPU - GE Force RTX 3090 FE Case: NZXT H500 - Compact ATX Mid-Tower Case PSU: CORSAIR - RMx Series 850W ATX12V 2.4/EPS12V 2.92 80 Plus Gold Modular Power Supply - Black Fans: 3x (soon to be 5x) Cooler Master MasterFan MF120

Monitor 1: ASUS TUF Gaming VG289Q 28" HDR Gaming Monitor 4K Monitor 2: ASUS VE278H 27" Full HD 1920x1080 2ms HDMI VGA Back-lit LED Monitor Headset: Logitech G935 Wireless DTS:X 7.1 Surround Sound LIGHTSYNC RGB PC Gaming Headset - Black, blue Mouse: Logitech G600 MMO Gaming Mouse, RGB Backlit Keyboard: Microsoft Natural Ergonomic Keyboard 4000 for Business - Wired (It’s not cool but I don’t care, I love me this keyboard and have bought many of them over the years and need to find a backstock of more of them.)

Storage:

C:\ Samsung 840 Series SSD 250 GB for Windows and misc. programs installed, and one day when I’m not lazy this one is going away and my C:\ will be moved to this one here below...

1x WD_Black SN750 1TB NVMe Internal Gaming SSD

B:\ 1x WD Black 2TB Performance Desktop Hard Disk Drive - 7200 RPM SATA 6 Gb/s 64MB Cache 3.5 Inch - WD2003FZEX (Slow but reliable storage for pictures, media, backups of stuff from old hard drives, general file / archive drive.)

G:\Games - Samsung 850 EVO 500TB SSD for video games… only about 50gb free on this one.

M:\ (M for MassEffect) - another 250gb Samsung 840 Series for all 4 Mass Effect games + Mods, also all three Dragon Ag games and The Sims 4 are on there too. I’d move The Sims off if it wasn’t such a hassle.

S:\ - Samsung 860 QVO 1TB SSD… More gaming storage

V\: Video Games - 1TB SSD for EVEN MORE Video Games… I think this is also Samsung, but not 100% sure. Actually filled this one up with Fallout 4 mods last week and had to... delete games.

Yeah I’m not upgrading a damn thing for like 3 to five more years. Except maybe going up to 32gb RAM. :p

And of course, the second game I’m playing with this beast is Fallout 4. Still, heavily heavily modded with 4k textures and other big mods and it’s been running smooth.

The first game was Cyberpunk 2077 and no regrets. It was freaking beautiful and I can’t wait til it gets patched up and some more content added so I can play it again. I had decided to preorder the game (I let myself preorder one thing a year, this was it for 2020) and blacklisted the game both here and on twitter so I didn’t see most of whatever controversies people keep talking about. Game ran decent for me on my 2060 with RTX on, and runs amazing now. Honestly the prettiest game I’ve ever played, and I had a lot of fun with it. I still log in and just drive around sometimes to see all the pretty.

REALLY hoping the Mass Effect remaster has RTX. Can’t wait to see the game in 4k, maybe looking even better than ALOT makes it look.

And that the modders can make their mods work with it, too.

#personal post tag thingy #my computer

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404fmdminjung · 3 years

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famed idol life / career meme

notes: i started doing responses one by one, but then i thought it’d be better to do one big mass-post instead of flooding dash all at once. thank you to all that sent in! appreciate u all :~) (if anyone has any numbers they need, please feel free to like this or just let me know, even if i already sent in an ask!)

2. what are your favorite b-sides/non-title tracks you’ve released?

“i like diana. there’s something moody, sultry about it with a touch of elegance. it’s almost like cheap wine on a long friday — contrasting, but it somehow fits. plus, sooah helped out on that track which becomes the cherry icing on top. perhaps, there’s something better coming out on my next album, where there’s too many b-sides that i’d cherry pick myself to be my favorite. for that, look out at the sea, captain.”

3. what is your least favorite song (title track or b-side) you’ve released?

“i don’t think there’s a least favorite. if there were, then i wouldn’t have partook in any of it — my personality’s in it or out of it. there’s no in between, especially where my voice plays a part. i don’t want to touch things where my heart doesn’t lie, that’d just be cruel. wouldn’t it? if it doesn’t relieve my soul a bit, then i don’t think i’d dip my toes in those waters.”

6. what is one thing (a concept, a genre, an outfit, etc.) you would least like your company make you do?

“i’d like to do house funk, maybe house-pop. you’ve seen elements in it in knight’s old releases, and even the oldies like decipher’s done it. unity’s dabbled in it somewhat in their b-sides, and considering fuse has amassed a long bridge of different concepts — the spectrum’s large. i’d like to wear hawaiian t-shirts and prance around to some summer house-funk, and that’s something i think the general public can all dance around in their rooms to.”

8. if you could be in any idol group, which one would you choose?

“i’ve grown accustomed to fuse — i like being in fuse. i don’t think i’d fit anywhere else, though i would say bee would be a nice change for the summer fun. i’d even enjoy myself to be in unity had i been a boy. can you imagine? the fun that would come out of belting welcome to my playground, and singing the tunes to touch. that’d be a girl’s dream come true.”

9. if you could say one thing to your ceo, what would it be?

“you’re the prettiest person i’ve ever seen. in the whole country, out of all the women in the world — you’re the standard of beauty. but i’m sure the whole world knows that by now, don’t they? i thank you for giving fuse some of the best songs, and though i’ve never met you face by face, i’d like to believe you’re better than what’s shown from face value. but, still — my wannabe face is you but no amount of plastic surgery would turn me into you, would it?”

10. if you were auditioning for your company today, what would you perform for your audition, or what would you change from your original audition?

“i don’t think i’d repeat the dance, nor attempt to dance to something like seo taeji and boys. if i recall, i did h.o.t’s we are the future, and snsd’s kissing you with a ruler i had in my back pocket. in retrospect, that was my standard of dancing — if only i’d known it’d become a bad memory to highlight the work i have left. maybe, i’d only stick to kissing you, ruler version while singing something more melodically acceptable than finkl’s now.”

11. if you could do any special stage, what would it be and who would it be with?

“i don’t know — i don’t know many things when it comes to these mix and match scenarios. i know i’d like to make a stage where i can dance freely as if i’m in the comfort of my own home. perhaps to a song like gee, or even oh — even willing to dabble in lipstick’s genie if it means dressing up like a sailor and going ahoy. i’d want to do the stage with jeonghwa, sooah, and well — i don’t have that many friends to give you a special stage, oops.”

13. if you could become a model or ambassador for any brand, what would you choose?

”again, i’ve been blessed and satiated with each and every opportunity given. working with dior has been a smooth sailing ride as well as cartier — perhaps, given the option i wouldn’t opt for pathere de cartier but a different line. still, nothing really takes away from the heart and soul of their jewelry, which i appreciate with my cup of tea. i’d continue to work with dior, and if hermes would ever take the punch — i’d even have an affair with them.”

14. if you could be on any variety show, which one (or which type of one) would you want to be on?

“knowing brothers — i really watch that show. or even, 전지적 참견 시점 — those are the shows i keep tabs of on a weekly basis. i'd love my manager to have her time to shine and steal the hearts of the world with her variety work. she’s a very funny person you know. as for knowing brothers? that’s a given knowing how quick the crowd is on their feet and the little mini-games that come from each episode. i hurt my stomach each time from laughing along so many times.”

16. what changes would you implement if you were the ceo of your company?

“a free-for-all. i’ve never wanted to become a ceo, but had i been granted the opportunity to rule on all floors, i’d implement a few things. mandatory art classes, and creative freedom to the album jackets for all my artists. no dating-bans, let it all air out — most of all, i’d let them do as they wished as long has it harmed nobody else and they could handle the aftermath. no restrictions, roam free, bunnies.”

17. what do you do to relieve the stress of idol life?

“call me pretentious or call me a sell-out, i do what any other normal person does. i like sitting in the cafes with my notebook out, sketching. i sketch people that come in and out, or the people that decide to sit next to me. if i’m home, i’m painting on canvas with my record player crooning in the background or knitting a sweater to wear next winter. on a really adventurous day, you’ll see me playing the pole or stretching my limbs at pilates. but that’s on a non-lazy day.”

18. what tips would you give to a trainee about to debut?

“wear your skin like armor, and let it thicken as time goes on. no need to get hurt by words, and instead roll with the punches — learn to accept the hate that comes, and be scrutinized underneath a microscope. sometimes, you don’t know if it’s really reality, but the faster you assimilate yourself, the quicker you learn to glide past your career. think of everything as a catch-22, only there’s no real safety net.”

19. what was the hardest part of being a trainee?

“getting along with the other people and have them stay away from getting to know me. it’s obvious, the trainee life is temporary — there’s going to be those that debut and those that don’t, so why pry further than you have to? everyone should’ve been given the basic privacy instead of trying to play formalities and get along. other than that, i hated dance practice and i still do. dance isn’t a strong suit, and having someone force me to follow a tempo i can’t march to was no fun at all.”

20. did you enjoy the lifestyle of a trainee or of a debuted idol more?

“i liked being a debuted idol far better, only because there was a layer of privacy given to me. ironically, i was suddenly in the public eye. yet, it still allowed some layer of anonymity within the inner circle and the day to day people i interacted with. starting from a sea of trainees, and having it dwindle to a group of my members — it all made it easier to handle in the end. besides, i was getting no sleep regardless trainee or not.”

22. describe your dream sub-unit (members and concept).

“take the fuse darker concepts — peekaboo, bad boy, psycho. and merge it into one, all while getting rid of the dresses too short to dress in. wrap it all together, and you get my favorite concept. i like mystery, and latent meanings behind pretty tunes, and being able to do that each comeback would be a dream. surely, the audience might get bored of it, but i wouldn’t and i’m allowed to be selfish, aren’t i? my dream sub-unit, i’d take sooah. without sooah, i don’t know what i’d do, really. she’s like a mini-mom, three years younger. then, i’d take kiana for the dance that sooah and i can’t handle. i suppose i’d add suji in there because i don’t think anyone can belt like she does, no offense to kiana. but there’s a heartier belt when suji does it. sorry to our leader, i guess.”

23. out of the following six options, would you rather be allowed to play a major hand in the lyrics, production, choreography, styling, music videos, or concepts you release?

“i started off in lyrics, so i’ll stay loyal till the end. i’ll keep to the lyrics, so i can continue to write the stories my heart wants to say. sometimes, i’ll fall into cliches, but that’s okay. if it’s not in music production or the general content of the song, i suppose i’d take a dabble in styling — and stop dressing myself in the short skirts making it impossible to dance. really, those are the only two things i’ll be selfish for.”

25. what is your least favorite part of being an idol?

“waking up early, not having enough time to draw — those would just be the superficial things, right? but really, there’s pros and cons to any jobs, just ask any office worker with a nine to five. however, if i’m given a sliver of honesty to wave my grievances, i’d like to mention that i don’t like working in short skirts that get shorter each comeback. i don’t like getting mauled by the public of who i make eye contact with or who i work with — i don’t like getting over criticized and the list goes on.”

26. what is your favorite part of being an idol?

“i’ve always been a story teller. i like crafting stories and telling my world for how i see it, and given this opportunity in music, i’m able to do so. i like playing with instruments, sketching out things for an album idea — the creative process while meeting new people along the way. it’s a journey, an adventure and most of all, it avoids stagnation. i’m on the move, go go go.”

27. would you rather be incredibly famous with a terrible reputation and hated by most or be fairly unknown with a good reputation and adored by those who know of you? why?

“i’m already disliked by most — they don’t like the way i dress, who i’m friends with or the manner in which i present myself. but i’m given the opportunity to ignore these things along the way, and learn to handle things bit by bit. given the choice, i’d rather hide in anonymity with the few around me enjoying my presence. i’ve learned by now, public opinion doesn’t correlate to much as it’s nothing more than a crow perched far away as poe would say.”

29. what have you learned about yourself and/or society since becoming a celebrity?

“i’ve only been taught life skills, such as time management and patience. in hindsight, i’ve learned how cruel people are to judge things from what they see at surface level. the world’s superficial — that’s a bitter pill to swallow. i don’t know much about myself as i haven’t gotten that part figured out. instead, i’ve just learned that the world is cruel and the people in it amount to little to no positivity — go figure.”

#fmdmeme001 #fmdyiyeon #fmdmaverick #fmdjaein #fmdkiana #jihoonfmd #jihaefmd #thank you all again for asking!#(큐뀨↻queue)

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gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights · 4 years

Link

Rating: G

Summary: Kagami and Nino plan a surprise party for Adrien's seventeenth birthday. With help from their friends, nothing can go wrong this time. Nino's even invited an extra special guest who's sure to make Adrien's night. (Nino & Kagami & Adrien friendship, with a side of Ladrien)

Word Count: 3101 | Chapter 1/3

Notes: written for @marinetteplztakeabreak through the @mlbforblm charity drive! The donations go directly to Color of Change, an online organization for racial justice centered on the Black Lives Matter movement. I highly recommend checking them out and reblogging/donating the mlbforblm posts if you’re able! I have one fic slot left as of 7/23/2020, and many other talented writers and artists are offering incentives as well! There’s even a giveaway going on; see the mlbforblm blog for more info!

XXX

“Hmm.” Kagami’s brow furrowed as she stared at Nino’s Operation: Totally Swank Party binder. The two of them sat on a bench in the park, where she had agreed to meet him after slipping away from her fencing lesson. “Bribing the bodyguard is a proven technique. Get me a list of action figures his collection is missing, and I’ll have them by tomorrow.”

“Way ahead of you, dude.” Nino tore a piece of notebook paper out. He’d done his research last night after a long phone call with Adrien. “Glad I can count on you.”

“Of course.” She neatly folded the paper and slipped it into her jacket pocket. “I’ll have them shipped to your apartment. Do you have a plan to dispose of his babysitter?”

Nino sighed and flipped to the page with a doodle of Nathalie with horns at the top. It was a much more tentative outline than what he’d prepared to deal with the Gorilla. Hopefully Kagami would be able to help him with that.

“Nathalie’s whole job is to suck out all the fun in my bro’s life. We’ll never be able to throw this party with her in the picture.”

He’d tried the past three years. From Hawkmoth transforming him into the Bubbler, to Nathalie locking him in a closet, to Gabe himself nearly arresting him for trespassing, each had been a total bust. At this point Adrien probably wasn’t expecting Nino to try.

But Adrien was his best bro. Nino would never give up on throwing him the most poppin’ party ever.

Plus, this year, he had a secret weapon. One that even Kagami didn’t know about.

“You seem quite prepared.” Kagami squinted at the page. “You’re sure Max can play his part? The Agrestes use my mother’s security technology.”

“Positive. He and Markov can hack anything.”

Max had already wired into the speaker system last time they threw a party for Adrien. Of course, on Adrien’s birthday, the mansion would be too obvious a target. That’s why the plan just required getting his bro out of the house altogether.

“I’ll trust you, then. What exactly is my role?”

Nino grinned, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You, my good bro, will be sneaking Adrien away from his fake fencing lessons. Adrien says you’ve done it a thousand times, and his pops still barely knows who you are. You’ve got like, some kind of invisibility superpower.”

“I simply have practice. That’s all.” She took his pen and began making notes in his binder. “Nathalie will realize we’re gone approximately forty-five minutes after we leave. The Gorilla has set patrol routes for finding Adrien when he goes missing, which I can map out for you.”

“If he takes the bribes, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Kagami was already sketching out a map of the city on a clean sheet of paper. Geez, how did she remember all that? He doubted he could even draw the path from his apartment to Alya’s.

“I don’t want to take any chances. We cannot fail Adrien. Do you have a venue reserved already?”

“Huh?” Nino scratched under his hat. Kagami was pretty rad, but it was hard to follow her train of thought sometimes. “Oh, right! I was thinking the hotel. Now that Chloé’s not a total jerk—”

“No. Too obvious. Nathalie will find us within the hour.” Kagami frowned and tapped the pen against the back of her hand. “The ice rink will be our best option. It’s out of his bodyguard’s patrol zone, and it can accommodate all of Adrien’s friends. We hid there all the time when we were dating, and no one ever found us.”

“Sure, sure, there’s just one problem.” He grinned nervously and tapped his fingers together. “I, uh, don’t know how to skate.”

Kagami tilted her head and. “Really? No matter. His birthday is twenty-one days away. You have plenty of time to learn.”

Over her shoulder, he watched her write “Teach Nino to ice skate” in her crisp print.

“Uhh… well, I guess that works.” Hopefully everyone else knew how to skate already, or they could just enjoy the food and cake from the seats surrounding the rink. Nino could technically do that too, but he didn’t want to miss hanging out on the ice with his best bro.

“I’ve seen you parkour with Alya. You seem like you’ll learn quickly.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Nino chuckled. “Just get ready to watch me starfish out there.”

Her lips pursed thoughtfully. “If it proves too difficult for you, I can try to find a backup location. I doubt one exists that will fit everyone you’ve listed, though.” She flipped back to the guest list, which included all of their classmates from the last few years, Adrien’s whole fencing team, and a few other friends like Luka and XY. Pretty much everyone Adrien had ever interacted with was on the list.

Except for one special guest, but Nino had left her out on purpose.

“No, no, it’ll be fine! I’m just joking, dude.”

“Oh.” Her face pinked a bit. “How are we going to deliver the invitations without alerting Nathalie or Adrien’s father?

“I’ve started planning that too.” Nino flipped forward a few pages. “The most important guests—ones who aren’t gonna snitch on us—will get their invites a week in advance. The rest will get theirs by text on the day of. If they can’t come, they can’t come.” It was the best solution he’d been able to come up with. He was sure that even if people did have plans, most would drop them for a chance to party with Adrien Agreste.

“Hmm. It still feels too obvious. The fencing team in particular may give us up.” She frowned before scratching a few names off the list. Well, she was on the team herself; she would know better than anyone who could be trusted. “You’re right though. This does seem like the best plan.”

Nino grinned. One nice thing about Kagami was that when she gave a compliment, he knew it was sincere. If she agreed with his birthday plan, then it was as close to foolproof as it could be.

“Sweet. I think that covers everything for now.”

“A very productive planning session.” Kagami nodded before holding out her fist.

Nino laughed and bumped knuckles with her. After a year of hanging out with him and his bro, Kagami was finally getting the hang of fist bumps.

“Meet me at the ice rink at eighteen hundred on Saturday. We’ll begin your lessons then.”

She closed the binder and handed it back to him, then stood and walked away.

“Skating lessons with Kagami, huh…”

This was either going to be a legit time, or he was going to make a total idiot of himself.

XXX

“Come on, Nino, you’ve got this!” Alya called encouragement as she and Marinette lapped him again. He frowned at their backs. How was it that even Marinette, certified clumsiest girl in Paris, could be a better skater than him?

“Focus, Nino.” Kagami snapped her fingers. She stayed near him, slowing her pace even though she could’ve skated rings around him. “Your girlfriend’s praise will only become reality if you practice proper technique. Keep your weight centered.”

“Right, right.” He pushed off from the handrail and tried not to flap his arms. This time, he made it a solid twenty seconds before he slipped and went skidding across the ice. His hat slid off in the opposite direction, but Kagami quickly retrieved it.

“Don’t try to go so fast. Catching up to Marinette and Alya isn’t your goal.” Kagami’s advice was blunt, but helpful. Nino didn’t mind her getting to the point. He knew his skating needed work, and no matter how many times he fell, she didn’t lose patience with him.

It was nice that Alya was so far ahead, honestly. It meant she didn’t see him look like a total dorkasaurus every time he fell.

I’m doing this for Adrien, he reminded himself each time. He didn’t need to be a pro skater. He just needed to be able to stay upright.

“You make it look so easy.” He frowned as Kagami glided backwards.

“I’ve been skating since I was six. It makes a relaxing hobby.”

He snorted. “How is anything about this relaxing?”

“Hmm. Perhaps you’re thinking too hard. It makes you hesitate, place your weight incorrectly. You’re a musician, aren’t you?”

“Huh? Yeah, you know I’m DJ-ing for the party.” He had no clue why Kagami was asking, though.

“Skating has a rhythm. Maybe you’ll feel more comfortable timing your strides with music.”

He tapped his chin. “Y’know… that’s not a half bad idea.”

“Not half bad? Does that mean only half is good?”

“No, no, the whole idea’s good! It’s just an expression.”

He slipped his headphones over his ears and picked one of the slowest songs on his playlist. It was a waltz in ¾ time; hopefully that wouldn’t trip him up.

“Alright, here goes.”

He took a deep breath and pushed off from the wall.

One-two-three, one-two-three. The music was smooth as the ice under his skates. Kagami kept pace with him, smiling as he counted the beats under his breath.

Something about it did feel different. Maybe it was that he stopped overthinking; maybe it was just the magic of music. Either way, he went the whole six-minute song without falling on his butt.

“Not half bad.” Kagami smiled. “...Did I use that right?”

“Heck yeah, dude.” They fistbumped.

“Way to go Nino!” Marinette gave him a high five as she and Alya caught up.

“Thanks for teaching my boyfriend, Kagami. I owe you one.”

“You owe me nothing, Alya.” Kagami’s cheeks turned red. “We’re all working together to ensure Adrien’s birthday is perfect. Teaching Nino is just one step in that plan.”

“Well, I still think it’s really cool of you. Oh! And speaking of the party, my mom says she can cater. I’ve already sworn her to secrecy.”

“Awesome! What about you, Marinette?” Nino took his headphones off to better hear the conversation, but his legs still knew what to do. “Are you gonna get Adrien a totally rad birthday cake or what?”

“Yeah, absolutely!” She nodded. “I’ll just have to drop it off before the party.”

“You’re still sure you can't come, girl?” Alya asked her.

“No, sorry. I promise I would if I could, but I—I’ve already made a commitment. But I’ll have the cake here on time, I swear!”

“And one of his fifty birthday presents, right?” She nudged Marinette with her elbow. Marinette nearly fell, but Nino wasn’t sure if that was from Alya’s bump or her words.

“I—I don’t have those anymore!” Her shoulders slumped. “It turns out, planning presents fifty years in advance works a lot better if you can see the future. They’re all out of style by now.”

Alya laughed at that. Nino couldn’t help noticing that Kagami had gone silent, though, her gaze locked on the ice in front of them.

“Something wrong, bro?” He asked her.

She shook her head. “Adrien’s party won’t be perfect if Marinette isn’t present. I thought she of all people would understand how much she means to him.”

Marinette gasped. “I… I’m sorry, Kagami. Adrien does mean the world to me, and… I promise, I’ll make it up to him.”

Nino was forced to stop as Kagami grabbed the handrail and locked eyes with Marinette. Some kind of silent conversation seemed to pass between them. He looked to Alya for help, but she just shrugged. By now he thought he’d understand the girls, but maybe some things would always be a mystery.

“See that you do. He deserves that much.”

This wasn’t some kind of love triangle over Adrien again, was it? Kagami had stayed good friends with all of them after she and Adrien broke up. Marinette was probably still crazy in love with him, but that was nothing new.

“It’s okay, dudes. The party’s still going to be perfect. I’ve got a special surprise planned for our favorite bro.”

He winked at Alya, who grinned back. She’d been the one to help him pull it off.

“A surprise?” Marinette clapped her hands together at the same time Kagami raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t factor any surprises into our plans. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“It’s not much of a surprise if everyone knows, is it?” Nino said. “But you’re right, I should have told you, Kagami. I just wasn’t sure if it would be awkward for you, knowing who Adrien’s crushing on now and all…”

“It’s not an issue. Adrien is a wonderful friend. That is more than enough for me,” Kagami replied.

“Adrien’s... crushing on someone?” Marinette asked, her eyes wide.

Oops. Kagami might have taken it well, but Nino should’ve waited until Marinette was gone.

“What’s the scoop, babe?” Alya raised her eyebrow, and Nino threw his hands in the air.

“I thought you already knew! Why do you think we worked so hard to get Ladybug to show up for his party?”

Marinette caught hold of the hand rail before her legs slipped out from under her.

“Adrien has a crush on Ladybug?”

“Oh. That’s all?” Kagami asked. “I’ve known that for months.”

“You have?”

“Was it supposed to be a secret? He keeps posters of her in his fencing locker.”

Marinette still looked like she was blue screening. Alya glared at Nino, and he gave a nervous smile. What was he supposed to do? Kagami had a point; the dude wasn’t exactly subtle.

“Anyway.” He coughed. “Our bro likes Ladybug, and she’s coming to his party, so he’s going to have a totally cash money time.”

“Cash money? You’ve been hanging out with Luka and XY too much, babe.”

Marinette giggled at that. She got her feet back under her, and they started skating in unison again. So… she wasn’t that upset? Whew.

“Oh, speaking of XY, I gotta get him here to help set up the special effects,” Nino said. “I already got permission from Phillipe. We’re going all out, courtesy of the actual cash money Kitty Section and XY’s last collab made.”

“How did we end up friends with so many rich people?” Alya mused under her breath.

“It sounds like the plan is in motion, then,” Kagami said.

“Yeah, it’s going to be perfect! Adrien will love it.” Marinette grinned. “Thank you two for putting all this together.”

“Anything for my best bro.” Nino shot her finger guns.

“He deserves a party worthy of his friendship,” Kagami added.

And he was going to get one. This year, of all years, Nino refused to let anything go wrong.

XXX

Three weeks later, on the night of September twenty-first, Nino paced the blue chairs surrounding the perimeter of the ice rink. His friends wove between the chairs, setting up tables of food and games. His turntables were already in place at the head of the rink, and XY was hooking them up to the speaker system.

“Nathalie’s schedule?” Nino asked as he passed Max.

“Hacked and adjusted.” Max flashed a thumbs up.

“Great job, dude.” He clapped him on the shoulder before moving on to Rose and Juleka’s station.

“Presents?”

“Stacked and organized!” Rose saluted.

“Sweet. Make sure to leave some extra space, there’ll be more where those came from.” He continued his path to where Chloé was lounging in a chair and scrolling through her phone.

“Chloé, status report.”

“No trace of Adrikins on Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr, or YouTube.” She flipped her ponytail. “You should check your tone, though. I’m not some peon you can just order around.”

“Right.” He rolled his eyes. Classic Chloé. At least she was taking her job seriously, though. “Thanks for all your hard work.”

“You’re welcome.” She smirked.

Her job was one of the most important. If the media caught wind of Adrien’s location, the party would have to split before he even got here. To prevent that, Max had jammed the wifi and cell service so that only his computer, Chloé’s phone, and Nino’s phone had wifi. If anyone wanted to post about the party on social media, they’d have to wait until after it was over.

Everything was looking perfect. There wasn’t much else to do but wait for updates from Kagami.

19:00. Arrived at the court. No sign of Adrien.

19:04. Adrien has arrived. Bodyguard bribed and driving away.

19:05. En route to ice rink. Adrien was suspicious, but believed my excuse of buying him birthday orange juice.

Nino shook his head with a smile. How did Kagami type all that without Adrien noticing? At least everything seemed to going smoothly on her end, too.

He started pacing again. According to Kagami, a casual stroll from the school to the ice rink took twenty minutes. It was longer than Nino wanted to wait, but the location had to be far enough away to avoid notice.

His phone beeped again. He unlocked it to see a selfie of Kagami and Adrien smiling wide, though Adrien was practically unrecognizable in the oversized hoodie and bright blue wig Kagami had borrowed from Juleka.

Alya’s chin rested on Nino’s shoulder. “Aww, look at them. All grown up and ready to rebel.”

“Psh, Kagami’s been rebelling for ages. Adrien could still learn a thing or two from her.”

“Oh look, she sent another one!” Alya clicked his phone.

In this photo, the two of them were pulling funny faces. Adrien stuck out his tongue, while Kagami puffed out her cheeks and gave him bunny ears.

Nino laughed and put an arm around his girlfriend. “We did a great job with them, didn’t we?”

“Absolutely.” She smiled before zooming in on the background. “Looks like they’re in front of the parking lot. They’ll be here any time now.”

Sure enough, Kagami texted, 19:25. Two minutes away.

“Right!” Nino gave her cheek a quick kiss before running to his turntables. He snatched up the microphone, and his voice blasted through the speakers. “Alright, dudes! Adrien’s about to walk through those doors, so everyone hide!”

Their friends dove behind tables and chairs. All of them except XY, anyway.

“What’s the point, dude? He’s gonna see all our sick lights.” XY pointed to the laser lights next to the turntable.

“That’s why we switch them off,” Luka said, pressing the button. The rink fell into darkness.

“Ohhhh.”

Nino pulled the two of them under the table with him just before the double doors opened.

#what an ice surprise #fic tag #miraculous ladybug #kagami #nino lahiffe #nino #tali writes #mlbforblm

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