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claymorexpunisher · 3 days

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I'll Shut You Up (CH.5/6) (18+ Fic)

Pairing(s): Rhea Ripley/Fem. Reader

Disclaimer: This is NSFW. If that's not your thing, keep scrolling. I try to tag my work appropriately and if you still choose to click and read, do so at your own discretion. ALWAYS make sure to discuss everything prior to engaging in ANY kinks… If you’d like to be removed from my taglist, please don’t be shy and message me privately. My inbox is always open. Thank you for the love always and I hope you enjoy!

Summary: It’s pretty well known that Rhea and Fem. Reader can’t stand one another. Reader thinks Rhea’s way cockier than she should be and Rhea thinks as highly about Reader as much as she thinks about the dirt at the bottom of her boot. Well… so they say, at least. A packed hotel mishap forces them to bunk together, and Rhea presses her luck by running her mouth. They both might find themselves wrapped up in a dynamic that might change their lives forever...

Fic Tag(s): 18+, enemies to hatefucking to lovers, forced proximity, overbooked hotel, WM weekend, Bottom Sub!Rhea, Dom Top!Reader, bratty!Rhea, angst, fluff, a little bit of oral (Rhea receiving) anal play/penetration, size difference, strap-on, nipple play, semi-public play, light humiliation, hair-pulling, spit for lube (I KNOWWW IM SORRY. It only happen on rare occasions.), begging, spanking, biting, slapping, choking.)

Chapter Word Count: 1,258

Prev. Chapter

Just like that, Rhea and I seemed to have gone back to square one.

Well, sorta.

For about two weeks after our night together, I was pretty much being ignored by her, which, okay.

Fine.

Did it hurt? Sure.

Did the indifference somewhat feel worse than the screaming matches and verbal jabs? Maybe…

I stupidly thought that we had begun to reach a bit of a breakthrough- whatever that means for us- the night that we spent together, but clearly that wasn’t the case.

Clearly, I had been naive and just seen what I wanted to see in Rhea’s eyes and in her actions that night.

Because the moment we woke up that very next morning, it all felt like a wonderful dream.

As fun as that night was for me, I admitted to myself that she had affected me in a way I wasn’t used to.

As much as I had put her in her place, I couldn’t help but feel that she played me like a fiddle, and she had gotten exactly what she wanted.

I mean, she did ask me to do my worst, after all.

After that night, she hadn’t taken to yelling at me or being a brat.

She was just kinda… there.

Subdued, yet ever-present because unfortunately worked together, on the same brand, and we couldn’t really escape one another.

I tried to pay it all no mind, but that indifference, coupled with the fact that I had a sneaking suspicion that something else was wrong with her, was definitely bugging me.

And I was beginning to think that it had a lot to do with an injury she’d been trying to hide for weeks- since before we ever slept together.

An injury that seemed to have been aggravated by an unfortunately mistimed attack by Liv Morgan.

But if she wanted to keep giving me the cold shoulder, that was fine.

Lucky for me, I didn’t have to wait too long for Rhea to start acting up.

Only this time, I knew to take it bit more in stride while still not taking her shit.

I couldn’t give her the satisfaction in seeing me lose control, but I wouldn’t allow her past behavior anymore.

If she wanted to address me, she could address me like the two adults we were.

As I sat on my makeup chair in my locker room, fixing up my hair in the vanity mirror, I heard my locker room being swung open and then locked closed.

I didn’t even have to look up to know that it was Rhea.

Sure enough, as my head slowly turned and my eyes raked over her figure just as slowly, they drank in the sight of Rhea standing behind me, her back pressed against the locked door before she stalked over to me and almost immediately got in my face.

Her eyes held a fiery blaze I begrudgingly admitted I had missed, and it almost made me smile.

Almost, if it hadn’t spat out the first words, she’d spoken to me in weeks…

“Let me make one thing clear to you… You don’t own me. You don’t control me. You don’t know who I am or what I want. And you are absolutely not my fucking Dom- I have zero in having one in the first place… I don’t give a damn about what happened between us two weeks ago, but it won’t happen again. So, fuck you. I don’t know who the hell you think you are but really hope you enjoyed you’re two seconds of power, but it didn’t do a thing for me-” Rhea started her rant, until I stood up from my makeup chair.

“Let me stop you right there.” I said softly. “First of all,” I murmured, watching her muscles lock and her jaw clench as she obeyed my quiet order, almost without even thinking about her own actions.

Like she couldn’t help herself.

“If you’re going to speak to me, you’re gonna do it using basic respect. You don’t have to call me ‘Ma’am’ or ‘Miss’ or ‘Mistress’, you are right, I am not your Dom. But you will not cuss at me, especially when I have done nothing to you-” I watched her scoff and chuckle at that.

“Oh? What have I done to you? That you didn’t specifically ask for, Rhea?” I waited even though I knew she wasn’t going to give me a straight answer.

“You decided to act up and you received more than you could handle, and I am so sorry for that-” I said, raising my eyebrows as Rhea’s mouth opened to interrupt, surely to rant about how ‘it was nothing!’ and I kept going, unbothered.

“It was my mistake to give into your jabs and pokes.” I admitted, watching her bravado and her words die in her throat and I caught the way she seemed to want to disappear as I stared at her, unmoved. God, she was beautiful and suddenly almost doe-eyed and… unnerved.

Truly shaken in a way I hadn’t seen in, well, three weeks.

Now I couldn’t help but notice the sling that decorated her left arm as well.

“Yeah, that was on me. But I’m not gonna deal with your tantrums again. That was another mistake. You speak to me with basic respect, or we don’t speak at all. I’m not above risking my job and asking Hunter to put you nowhere near me if you don’t know how to act. Do you understand me?” A single brow remained raised on my face as Rhea’s eyes widen a fraction, almost in panic before her features smoothed over in faux ease.

“Fine.” She scoffed, but she seemed broken in a way that made me want to reach out to her, even I ran the risk of her pushing me away... “Just as long as you understand that what happened two weeks ago wo-”

“-won’t happen again. I know. Noted and understood, Rhea. Anything else?” I asked, tilting my head and looking up at her.

My body language spoke of a calm I was trying to hold onto, and Rhea didn’t seem to know what to do with that.

“I’m relinquishing the World Women’s Championship.” Like everything that involved Rhea, this gave me whiplash.

Out of everything I expected her to respond with, that abrupt subject change definitely wasn’t it.

“What?” I asked, blinking up at her now as if several of my braincells had evaporated on the spot, until I remembered myself.

“Why?” I asked.

“There’s gonna be a battle royal for the next women’s champion. Tonight. And you’re in it. Congratulations.” Rhea said instead of directly answering my question. She had tried to sound petty, but I could tell it was half-hearted.

Right then and there, I started to figure her out a bit more.

I couldn’t explain how, but I started to figure out that she seeked that push-and-pull of this out-of-control dynamic we had begun whenever she felt unsure or out-of-balance.

And now I was kinda rocked to my very core at that sudden realization.

The realization that her sometimes-vicious words were entirely empty.

But I was also rocked by the fact that I had a chance at the Women’s World Championship- Rhea’s title?! Was Hunter joking?

However, before I could say anything more to Rhea, maybe give my sympathies for having to relinquish something she’d so excitedly and tirelessly worked for-that much I could admit despite our personal problems-, she’d left my locker room, running away from me once again…

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#RHEA PLEASE STOP RUNNING FROM THIS WOMAN BBYGIRL IM ALREADY EXHAUSTED #ill shut you up #rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley fanfic #wwe reader fic #wwe fic #wwe fanfic #wwe fanfiction #gigi's wips #gigi's works #yall might get a second chapter later. maybe.

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pangyham · 6 months

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ough part of me wants to change my username. the goal of this blog is to not accumulate a following but to be a place where i can talk about whatever without a huge public audience (or whenever i feel too cockshamed to post on instagram stories). i dont think people will go out of their way to find my account especially since it's been a year since i deleted all socials and i'm completely irrelevant and forgtten but STILL.. sigh i'm worrying over nothing

#please don't reblog! salamat!!#i'm not too concerned because realistically i think this account will remain obscured #but the slight paranoia is There. but i do wanna keep “tangypine” for sentimental reasons #kind of ironic i'm like.. GAHH the prospect of being known.. (blogs on a public domain)#listen. it's about the anonymity and talking for a Reason #talking to myself isn't reason enough i need to be annoying. but truly-#there's something about publicizing my thoughts that makes it more fun? and more engaging? i have an incentive to write #if it's just for me.. it's a litle lonely hahaha. doing it to my friends makes me feel a little sheepish. also i'm more deranged than most #of them. cant scare the hoes #tangy says something to the void

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dilftaroooo · 5 months

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Being perverted strikes naturally within Gojo, so when the idea of being a step brother comes to mind during sex he can’t help but act upon the roleplay. You think he’s gross for it, but his questionable passion for it keeps you engaged (oddly enough).

☆word count: 6.3k+

★tags/tw(18+): dark content + stepc*st roleplay + foot f*tish + toe sucking (f!recieving) + dubcon (because reader is unsure at first) + reader is college-aged/gojo is 28 + squirting + age gap + vanilla sex + pubic hairs + scent kink + implied ass eating + hesitancy + reader is afab using she/her pronouns + mentioned latex kink + use of 'satoru-nii' + established relationship + gojo is a lil' mean + and sassy + lots of kissing + nipple play + creampie + getting caught having s*x + exploring kinks + praise kink + pet names + skull fucking + gag reflex + snot + we're talkin' 'big beefy whore with black compression shirt' gojo here + reader is a bit inexperienced + questions of certain kinks.

☆a/n: hey alexa, play 'poundtown by sexyy red' ayyye come suck a bitch's toooes. enjoy y'all, this shit nasty af.

You’re not a kink shamer.

You understand the sexual thrills of getting off to something that turns one on to the point of fulfilled ecstasy–weighted breaths and skin coated with a sheen of sweat from the unorthodox fantasies that provoke the human mind and manipulate the human body, keeping them bound to the shackles of pleasure as their perversion engulfs them whole. It feels beautiful–ethereal, dare you say, and you get that. Who wouldn’t want to feel blissfully satisfied just by mere thought alone?

Now, exclusive of the deranged fetishes involving children, scat, or whatever fucked up shit out there that's befitting for a lowlife, you would say that you're a pretty open-minded individual. Always tolerating the naughty anecdotes told by your friends’ concerning their past hookups, distinctively remembering the giggles you all shared when reciting one of the stories from a particular friend that had them clad in a latex suit, lips decorated with ruby red, and three-inched heels coming into contact with the cheek of their previous partner as they squirmed in shameless arousal.

‘It was pathetic to see, but I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t get me going…’ And that mutuality between both parties is what makes it even more fun. They both get a kick out of something they enjoyed, so what’s to hate about it?

You’re not a kink shamer–not at all.

You and your boyfriend of a year and four months, Satoru Gojo, always carried the qualities of a couple depicted in unrealistic romance movies: the nuzzle of the nose that tickled your cheek before delving in for a peck, the surprise hugs he’d startle you with as you prepared an early morning breakfast, as well as the intertwined fingers while you both make your way to his favorite bakery (his kisses are even more sugared after scarfing down the kikufuku he’d order no more than a minute ago).

You always felt like the princess to his prince, stumbling over your gown to keep up with his hurried footsteps as you both venture through the gracious evergreen of a mythical forest. You have no time to remove the pastel violet and pink petals slotting themselves in your locks since your hand remains occupied with Satoru’s, moving exquisitely to the melodic song of the nightingales. It was a dream from a childhood storybook.

Moreover, what was revealed in public was, undoubtedly, the same in the comfort of your bedroom, living at your university’s on-campus apartment that you shared with two indifferent roommates. He would frequently stop by after work to spoil you with his affection. Always asking how your day was and whether or not you finished your assignments.

He was a tad bit older than you–twenty-eight and going, but you didn’t mind the age gap, it gives you all the more reason to tease him for his ‘old’ age, to which he responds with a pout and furrowed eyebrows, ‘Oh, how mean! Who would’ve ever thought that my darling angel could be such a devil…?!’ He’d say with faux anguish. He knows you’re only playing around–such the jokester.

Though, he couldn’t say the same for you in bed. Protected by the warmth of your sheets, you relished at how accustomed your body and soul were to his heartfelt transactions, vanilla-flavored sex, so sweet and tasteful on your tongue as he kissed you with want. Tongues twirling a sensual dance as your lips combine in rhythmic harmony. You also loved it when he coos in your ear, reminding you of how you’re so good to him before wrapping his lips around puffy areolas in a way that makes you writhe.

He’s so gentle with you. Handling a fine china cabinet with the utmost care, he makes sure he touches you in ways that wouldn’t break your fragile body. And when your nude skin presses against his as a result of his thrusts to your core, he reminds himself to get you moaning in his ear and get your hands gripping against the muscular curvature of his back.

It feels good. It always feels good. So, why does a part of you feel…bored?

The love is there, you won’t question that. When you come, you feel as though you’re one with the stars. And above all, he praises you. It’s nothing new, but in this context, you like to be his ‘pretty girl’ whenever the tip of his nose pushes against your wet clit. So, why do you feel like something is missing? You don’t know.

You haven’t been in many relationships. The last one you remember was in high school, dating a boy who only loved you out of teenage fever, and you shamefully admit that you reciprocated his confession. You were both young and unknowing of what the aspects of ‘love’ really meant. You never went past the boundary of hand-holding and cheek-kissing, so it remained stagnant until the moment you both broke up.

None of it was mutual, however. You can recall how distraught you were as you bawled in your mother’s arms, asking her what you did wrong while she soothed you with maternal pets to the crown of your head. That being said, it’s safe to say that you really don’t know what’s missing from you and your boyfriend’s intercourse–like, really.

But, thankfully, Satoru makes up for what you lack, telling you not to fret since he knows a lot and letting you know how much he’s been wanting to get to this point of intimacy with you–wanting to whisk his girlfriend away from the comfort zone that you’ve grown so attached to.

Satoru is without exception, enthusiastic to portray more during times of intercourse, yearning to teach you more than just the fluffy, domestic sex you both indulge in. It’s lovely and all, bleh bleh, whatever, Satoru gets it, but, man, what he wouldn’t do to see you on your knees, between his sinewy thighs parted for your form as he hovers above you, your head tilted upwards to take in his thick shaft through wet lips.

He’d make sure his red, throbbing tip hits the back of your throat so he can hear that sickening gag scurry out your mouth paired with the sloppy froth of your saliva slapping against his heavy balls with each quick thrust. He’d be too occupied to find the snot dribbling from your nose revolting because you’d be taking him in so deep.

That’s forever been his little fantasy–that amongst the vast amount of others. And to try each and every one of them with you would be a delight.

After you confessed to Satoru, you couldn’t help but notice how peculiar his ministrations started to get. It was gradual–starting with spanks on your ass to eating said ass. You’ll even bring up the time he used your feet to get off. It caught you off guard, you’d admit.

That day he had you pliable–on your knees with the left apple of your cheek flushed in the pillow beneath you and arms resting idly on your sides as you allowed your enthralled boyfriend to take the lead.

You assumed he was just gonna spit on your already-soaked pussy before massaging your puffy clit in the teasing, clockwise motions he likes to test you with, cock oozing with leakage before languidly gliding upwards to push in-between your cunt lips, but what you didn’t assume he’d do was trace his slimy precum against the soft skin of your toes to then rub his tip across your soles.

You tried to retract your feet away from him (toes wiggling in the process which had them accidentally graze across his balls. You could’ve sworn you heard him hiss) and protest his weird behavior but Satoru was already three steps ahead, firmly gripping both feet and nearly squishing them together if it wasn’t for the thick base of his cock preventing them from touching.

Each thrust he made ached with raw fervor and fuck him from being incapable of suppressing his passion because he couldn’t help but look down and see your cute pussy pucker and asshole twitch. What a sight for sore, cerulean eyes. Just as sore as your ass after he slapped it with an ever-so-firm hand, silently thanking his calluses for the rough impact.

He found it adorable how your shimmering entrance craved for insertion, winking rhythmically at him as though it’s saying, ‘Please fill me up, ‘toru! ‘M so lonely without you…’ (he chuckles to himself at the personification when done in a high-pitched tone).

But your pussy always gets his attention. You have another hole too, ya’ know–one that sits right above it, unused and virginal. Just imagine his excitement as he leans forward, cock still buried at the innermost part of your feet, to take a closer look. He’d smile at your coyness when you felt his hot breath blow on your skin, unsure of his next move.

In this new position, he can trace the faint smell of sweat emerging from you, and God, does that turn him on. More than it already does. So of course he had to steal a taste, trailing a fat strip of saliva against the rim, you squeal at the warm and wet feel of his tongue touching a place it had never been before,

“S-Satoru…what the fuck!” You jolted before moving from your position, migrating to any spot as long as it's far from your lover. You’ll never forget the sleazy look on Satoru’s face as both corners of his rosy lips tilt upwards for a cocky grin–yuck.

It grossed you the fuck out.

Not in a way that antagonizes your boyfriend, you love him too dearly to feel as such, but in a way that questions his morals. Why on earth would someone like Satoru want to be minimized to using the bottom of your soles for pleasure or savor the briny taste of sweat that builds up around the tight ring of your ass? I-I mean, you excrete from there, for God’s sake! That’s gross, especially in a place where the sun doesn’t shine.

You understand that he likes doing it, but why? How could something so perverse and dirty get him hard so quickly? Where’s his shame? His humiliation? His guilt? Were they not present whenever he sneaks a lick at your toes?

Perhaps you are trying to understand–who wouldn’t want to indulge in their lover’s feet, to caress the tough surface of their heels, and lead up their toes, to draw soft lines against them with plush lips as their medium before dipping them inside the wet cavern of their mouth and sucking the small digits before swirling their tongue and–ugh!–no! No, no, no, that’s sick! How can one do such a thing with ease? You can’t possibly imagine that.

But you’re not a kink shamer…right?

Your question remains unanswered, though, as you’re interrupted by Satoru’s moistened kisses trailing down the curve of your neck. You must’ve been in your daze for quite some time considering that the camisole top and loose shorts you lounge in took their positions on your bedroom floor.

“Come back to me, baby.” You hear your boyfriend murmur and you deliberately oblige by running your digits through the white sea of his mane, wild and free as your fingers feather against his roots. He hums with love before leaving a kiss that's sloppier than the previous one. It starts with your usual routine, with soft and tenderhearted sex.

He pecks at your clavicle and you whimper in return as silvery lashes tickle the most sensitive areas of your skin. The passionate atmosphere continues to flow within the four walls of your room–containing your moans and your kisses and your touches, reverberating them in your heated figures while filling you both with distinct pleasure. It was good so far.

“Have any ideas in mind for tonight, sweetheart?” His voice is muffled as he joyfully sucks at the skin between the valley of your breasts, teeth clasping over the hot flesh to induce a mark darker than what your skin tone provides. You hold onto the fabric of his black shirt, soundlessly wondering why he is still garbed in unbreathable polyester while you remain bare save from your panties.

Lolling your head to the side in thought, you dwell on his question. Should you have something in mind? This isn’t the same as getting asked where to eat for dinner, per se. And owning to your inexperience with sex and fetishes, you’re incapable of bringing anything to the table in this sense.

You open your jaw, mouth filled with saliva due to the raunchy actions performed by your boyfriend onto your supple body, ready to speak your retort as you lick your chapped lips in preparation, but, Satoru knows you better than you know yourself.

“Yeah, I know you don’t,” It’s like he was born to study you. Your eyes travel to his person again, orbs resting upon Satoru’s scalp as you wait for him to finish. “Nothing in that gorgeous head of yours. It’s okay, though. I don’t blame you. I know an amateur like you wouldn’t have anything planned.”

As might be expected, your brow raises at his comments slightly glazed with a patronizing drip, it’s gotten your attention, all right, as you turn your head to glare down at him. He’s sucking on your nipples this time and you forge a jerk but don’t falter, perked up by this newfound attitude from your loving partner.

“Oh?” You start and it carries the same uppity weight as his tone. “And I suppose you have it all figured out?”

He nods right after gazing up at you with arctic globes saturated with a heavy rush of sincerity and you can already feel the dreamy sigh materializing in your throat but never emerging. Satoru immediately sniffed out the indignance behind your words like a trained bloodhound. He rises from his spot upon your heaving chest to travel his way to the swoll of your chin, apologizing with a quaint kiss.

“I do,” His smile is affectionate. “You know I always do, sunshine.” You gasp once something hard nudges against your squishy thighs before poking the outermost part of your panties.

“-Always think of something for that little cunt.” It isn’t long before it's cast to the side for clear access to your glimmering slit, doused in slick because your boyfriend had a remarkable way of handling you. He didn’t miss the embarrassed mewl of his name when he used filthy words.

He also didn’t miss the pull of air you took in as his thick finger swept up your bodily remnants, coating the fingertips of his middle and ring finger. You voluntarily buck your feeble hips in desire for him to push through your entrance but you know he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily. “You know, it gets me going when we do stuff like this when others aren’t around–when we do something so forbidden.”

What–?

“Forbidden…?” Each syllable muddles your tongue as you ponder on its meaning: something that typically isn’t allowed or accepted–you’re not unaware, it’s a simple word, but is that the word he meant to say? “Why would it be forbidden? You’re my boyfriend, are you not?” Unless there’s something you’re unknowing of.

Perhaps he has a wife that he kept hidden in the shadows of his past. What if one wife turned into several wives? Maybe he’s a bloodthirsty murderer, ready to indulge in his next killing after getting you to trust his charming blue eyes and pink-liped smile. You don’t exactly know what the forbidden aspect of it all that he’s keeping from telling you-

You hear him ‘tsk’ and you assume it was meant to be taken seriously but it seems covered in mockery.

“Hah, Boyfriend? Have you no shame?” And he chuckles deep and grimy. “Don’t act like don’t know, dear.” You honestly don’t. “What would our parents think if they saw you, my sweet, little sister, grinding her greedy pussy against her older brother’s fingers?”

Oh.

Oh God.

Gritting your teeth for an evident cringe, you hurriedly toss your head to the side to break eye contact (how did he even manage to hold it for that long despite what he just said?!). There’s no way he’s doing this. Out of all kinks…

“For the love- Satoru. Stop, that’s fucking-” A sharp whine halts your sentence, stressed to the point of exaggeration. You don’t bother looking back up at him, already imagining his brows creasing with complaint at your disgusted remark.

“Ehh, what happened to ‘Satoru-nii’?” You almost would’ve forgotten the fingers sketching light circles on your sensitive button, going in for a pinch before tapping it aimlessly due to its slippery surface.

You clench your thighs together but Satoru’s heaping form prevents you from doing so. He’s a big mass of muscle reminiscent of a bull–broad shoulders along with thickened veins peeking through tough skin in the forms of streams, carrying the pulsing blood flow of adrenaline and transporting through each significant section of the body to energize his raging carnality.

“Are my fingers dwindling your vocabulary already? I just started using this pussy, sugar plum.”

A part of you wanted to believe he was joking–trolling like he usually does on literally every occasion. He knows how acquiescent you were in situations like these. So easily obedient to follow his golden rule when clinging to his hip, taking full advantage of your attributes to get you to do the perverted shit that spoiled his brain to corruption.

Of course, there’d be times when you’d retaliate, shouting out a brief ‘no’ before leaving the conversation unfinished, but it’s okay because he can butter you up to your good side. Use his words and his hands to do the convincing. Satoru has attributes of his own too.

But gazing into his eyes and seeing how aquatic blue dissolves into crimson red, only driven by lust, tells you he’s serious.

You look off to the side once more because staring at your nightstand is more soothing than staring at your deviant boyfriend. Out of all kinks, why this one?

“I don’t,” You close your eyes in an attempt to rid yourself free from his piercing glare. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” You weren’t about to do this. You weren’t about to play into his wicked fantasies of being a relative of any sort. That doesn’t sound appealing at all.

“Don’t be like that, babe.” He mutters softly as if other people were in the room, prying with open ears to catch whatever dialogue is being transmitted between the two of you. A fingertip taunts at your sloppy entrance, just barely shoving past its tight grip. Sexual anticipation surged through your core at his ministration (his giggles at your hopelessness didn’t help you any). “You won’t know unless you try. Come on, do it for me?”

He’s too cute to refuse when your peripherals pick up his bottom lip raising upwards for a pout and feather-like lashes fluttering over glossy, blue orbs. Practically, begging you to follow through with this look alone–if only he wasn’t so handsome and used his charm against you in every way possible. God damn it-

“You’re sick, you know that?”

“Then you’re my antidote.”

You exhale in defeat since you unfortunately realize there’s no way out of this. Satoru’s too adamant to get you to play along with him, it’s insane. Turning your head to fully face him, which feels like the one-millionth time you’ve done so, you look him in the eye before aiming at the button of his nose, upturned and perky. Mentally getting ready to produce the God-forsaken words you are about to utter.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You start and the way Satoru’s face lights up like a kid on Christmas irks you.

You still feel mortification swirl in your skull like second nature. Your cheeks feel hot and it hurts–were you really about to do this?

Satoru was still teasing you to no end. Teasing that doubtlessly wet pussy with expertise. He was killing you by not giving you what you craved, only remaining on the surface as he waited for your verdict. Just one more push, one more shove and you’ll get there.

“And why is that?” He inquires.

Your bottom lip quivers with hesitation before an erotic groan escapes you. He’s so close to putting them inside. “Because you’re-” You pause to wait for a sliver of courage to finish your sentence. You’re not sure if you can-

“...I’m?” He continues.

You both catch on to the shaky breaths you’re letting out, two separate bodies feeling two separate emotions, one agitated and the other electrified.

“You’re my,” You tense but Satoru loosens. “-my b-brother.” He’s the Cheshire cat as of now. You wail once two fingers invade your thirsty hole, entering with a mushy squelch.

“And what is it that we’re doing, huh? What is it that we’re doing that would be so revolting to the public eye, hm? Tell me.” Can he stop pushing you already, for crying out loud?

“You fingering my, my,”

“You got it, keep going.”

“...fingering my p-pussy.”

Satoru cherishes your hesitance and rewards you, his obedient puppy.

Digits curl upwards in search of that sensitive g-spot resting amongst your gushy insides. If applied enough pleasure, he’d be able to see how your back arches off your cotton sheets. Your mouth opens for a silent scream as the force of his fingers supports the buildup of liquid passion, pounding the area in addition to his palm rubbing your stiff clit the deeper he goes.

“There you go, my sweet girl, my gorgeous, little sister.” He fingers you harder and sucks at your erect nipples–when did they get so hard? As a matter of fact, when did your body feel so hot and needy? As though you’re deprived of something.

Your boyfriend sucks at your tit before biting the small nub, grazing his teeth along sensitive skin for a chomp, causing your hands to fly to his head and grip the fur of his undercut, all while wincing in pain. He retracts his head with your nipple still in his mouth, giving it a stern tug like an elastic rubber band. You would have cursed him out if it wasn’t for the fingers still beating at your nether regions.

“Ah, S-Satoru!” He bites harder and you remember his request from earlier. “Satoru-nii.”

As if you hear a winner's buzzer, he hums in approval and releases before gorging his lips around the other one, gently guzzling it this time, skillfully whirling his wet appendage around the nub in combination with hungry sucks. He unloosens with an obnoxious, wet pop!

“M’so glad your mom married my dad. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t be able to take care of my little sister’s pussy like how I’m doing now. Wouldn’t that be so sad?!” He inquires gleefully. “I’d be so miserable–jerking myself off to meaningless porn when I could be stuffing my big dick deep inside your aching cunt. Hearing you moan out how much you love your older brother for making you squirt your sticky juices all over me. You even got your hairs trimmed in the way you know I love.”

The sound of fabric grinding against fabric fills your ears as he maneuvers his head to reach down to your pelvis, stuffing his nose on top of the shortened pubes, his mouth hangs dangerously over your clitoris.

He takes in a deep breath like he’s smelling the fresh air of healthy trees and freshly cut grass, basking in your heady scent while feeling his cock go rigid in the plush of your mattress.

Too aroused to feel embarrassed, you buck your hips so you can finally get his mouth on your itching button and he finally compels, switching between sucking in your clitoral hood and tonguing your labia. Satoru moves his fingers faster in hopes of provoking your climax. He knows your proximity by noting the way your thighs tremble and toes spread across your sheets.

You finally get to the stage you’ve been craving since the beginning of this session. Releasing your fluids onto your awaiting boyfriend, the grip at the nape of his neck more powerful than before, you squeal a brief ‘Satoru-nii!’ as he proceeds to lap at your overstimulated pussy. He’s now sparkling with your juices. Satoru sits up on his knees after wrapping his buff arm around the width of your shoulders to hoist you up and get you closer to his thighs, your figure remains seated as you process what he wants you to do–he wants you to suck him off.

So you lean your sweat-stained face over his clothed member and unwrap it like a Christmas present you’d save for last because it's so big. His cock springs up rudely and smacks at his now naked abdomen (when did he take off his shirt?) with a loud clap. His abs are so detailed and his pecks puff out in pride while he looks down on you, like his little servant.

He controls the length of his cock with a stern hand and traces ivory white lipstick over the plump of your mouth, a hazy web of precum connecting to your upper lip.

“Wrap those beautiful lips over my cock, darling angel. You know it makes me happy to see you stuffed full with my dick, no matter the hole.” He cheeses when he hears a quick scoff come out of you.

You listen anyhow, swallowing the tip of your big brother’s rod, hallowing your cheeks like a skeleton to circling your tongue around its rosy circumference. You feel your remaining cum dribble onto your bed when you hear him make a guttural moan from above. Clenching his ass cheeks as fingers place themselves on top of your head like an armrest, laying idly as of now.

“Oh shit, baby, yeah, just like that. Keep sucking me off juuust like that.” He bucks his hips impatiently once you decide to devour him up to the mid-base, continuing the actions of sucking in your cheeks to tighten around his cock. “Fuck!” He mewls before chuckling humorlessly.

He stares down and you look up. Your eyelids roll back til they’re just below your brow ridge to catch sight of azure undertones. You were just about to wonder why he was tittering until pressure made its way to both sides of your head. When his pearly white smirk twinkled under dim lighting, that's when you knew-

“Hmphh,” The noise was pitiful when subdued by the heavy weight of Satoru’s cock.

“Hold still, pretty girl.” He coos before pushing his hips back and applying the same manner to your head as he controlled you effortlessly and then thrusting forward and forcing your head to do the same. His balls slap on impact with your chin when he buries himself deep into the hot cavern of your throat, you have your nostrils planted on the silvery wisps of his pubes, reeking of potent masculinity. He leaves you in that position, powerless as he ignores the smacks to his meaty thighs.

“Hold it,” He warns. His voice is pitched below the Earth’s surface. “Gotta teach you how to please big bro properly.” You fight hard as his tip keeps irritating the thing that hangs at the back of your throat, trying to oppose your body from naturally activating your gag reflex but it ends up being fruitless. Your throat convulses as it bulges with his cock print and you cough out an ugly sound. Your vision blurs once you feel your eyes start to water up. You want him to move back already!

“Good.” It’s like he heard your thoughts because he finally retracts from his perfect spot lodged in your gullet. His swollen tip tickles the surface of your lips as you gasp several breaths of air. Just what was he thinking? You could’ve puked!

“What the hell was- mmph!” Halted by another intrusion of his cock burying itself in the pits of your throat, you muffle out a sound of surprise. You couldn’t believe it.

Satoru starts, “Less talking from you, sunshine. I wanna hear you slobber on my dick. Think you can do that for me?” He quickens up the pace of his thrust, going at the speed of someone walking. You gag disgustingly at each thrust and you can feel snot starting to leisurely slip from your nose (just what he wanted to see).

“That’s a messy girl, my messy sister. Got you, hah, so worked up you even got snot dripping from your nose and your spit running down my balls. Oh, you don’t know how much I longed for this.” He resumes his praises and tips back his head for a howl, feeling himself approaching his end as he hears you glurg, glurg, glurg on his veiny member.

“Oh shit, shiiit…!” Suddenly, you’re abruptly pushed off of him, freeing your esophagus from the restraint. Your back lands on the bed with a thud, your landing protected by your doughy comforter. Satoru stands motionless as he recovers from edging himself to oblivion. Biting his lip, his cock twitches up and down before it gradually remains unmoving.

You don’t even remember it happening, but you’re already restricted underneath Satoru’s panting body, thighs folded backward for a mating press, squeezing your squishy tits together, and feet perched on top of his shoulders. He takes his infamous spot between your legs, his overworked hands, decorated in calluses and scars, cuff around the underside of your knees.

He gifts you a heated kiss on your lips. “‘Toru-nii-” You say while struggling to keep up with his tongue. He breaks away from you and the string of saliva snaps into two.

“I hear you, baby, want me inside you already, I know, hear you loud ‘n’ clear.” His tip finds your entrance and it's sopping wet tenfold. He’s never seen you so needy in his life. He pushes in slowly and smoothly. Relishing your moans as he delves within you inch by inch, his thick cock stretching you out deliciously. You squirm in lascivious desire each time he enters you.

“I know, sugar, I know…” He soothes you upon hearing your sobs go up an octave. His head rests at the empty spot next to your neck and his hair tickles the crevice. “Almost there.”

As soon as he sinks deep in your warm cunt, he pecks your cheek with a softness that resembles duck feathers in a pillow before plummeting into you. A pornographic squelch resounds through your room.

“Hnn, T-Toru-nii is, so deep, ah, in my pussy!” You yelp. He’s so glad you’re still following his gross footsteps. So dazed by his cock hitting every ridge nestled within you.

“Yes, that’s right, little sis. And you’re gonna be a good girl and take it for me, right?”

You give a nod, “Yes, I will. I always will. Just f-for you.”

“Mmm, that’s right. That’s what I like to hear.”

He inclines his torso backward, finding his attention on the feet placed at each side of his shoulders, more specifically, the one to his left as he grabs your ankle with ease, stroking the bone and putting your pedicured toe between wanting lips, your french tips hitting the roof of his mouth while lapping at your salty skin.

His pelvis hammers into you at a steady rate in combination with the gushes emerging from both sexes, it's so damn loud, you’re quite sure your Resident Assistant will come banging at your door frantically, telling you to lower it down because of the noise complaints that lead to your room.

You giggle, not just at the thought but at how much it tickles to feel Satoru’s tongue swirl around each toe.

“Satoru, that tickles.” You quip and the aforementioned man stares at you with knowing lids, purposely tasting your soles which have you trying to take your foot away, but the position you’re in makes it impossible.

You feel as though hours go by as your older brother pushes on with fucking you silly and having a makeout session with your foot. His v-line collides with your poor pussy on every steady beat and you can’t help but let your earlier accusations fall from your mind like slippery soap.

The revulsion, the distaste, the discomfort–all of which were confined in a silk-woven case, trapped and compacted hitherto its evolution of approval. Although tentativeness plagues its cycle, the result remains beauteous as a cherry red butterfly protrudes through the rotten surface of the cocoon. The successful escapee finally swarms the sky with a setting sun.

It feels good. You feel good. Your pussy feels good as your step brother pounds it with intent–with purpose. You wiggle like a fearful worm ready to be eaten once the need to release creeps up slowly.

“My little sister always manages to feel so good. This pussy is just gripping me so fucking tightly and-” He stops abruptly and so do your moans as you hear your front door creak open.

The sound of jiggling keys and the chaotic trembling of plastic bags alert both your ears as you hear the door slam shut accompanied by a relieved sigh. You glance at the digital clock on your nightstand–‘10:35 PM’. One of your roommates is back from work. Coming home to rest easy from their enervating shift, she wants nothing more than to take a scalding hot shower, laze in her bed, and listen to nothing but silence as she drifts off to sleep.

But before those temptations come into play, she first wants to check up on you to see if you’re still in your room. Walking up sluggishly to your door, she raises a hand to prepare a few knocks while you and Satoru both stare wide-eyed at the shadow that occupies the crevice beneath your bedroom door–still like Michelangelo's statues.

“Hey, (Name), you in there?” The pause is long as you look up to Satoru and see his gaping mouth transform into a smirk before turning your attention to the door.

“Uh, yeah, I’m here. What’s up?” You ask, slightly hoping that your answer will satisfy her queries on your safety before retreating to her room.

“After work, I took a quick trip to the store for some wings and frozen pizza if you’d like some. Even got honey-barbeque-” You smile at her gentle antics. She remembered your favorite flavor.

“Oh, thanks, I really appreciate th-oh!” You’re stopped once Satoru resumes pounding your sloppy pussy. You cover your mouth in an attempt to conceal your yap but a strong hand grabs both wrists to cuff them above your head.

“Keep talkin', sis. Can’t leave mom pondering, now can we?” He whispered with precaution. That devious little-

“H-Hey? Are you okay?” The squishy slaps of both Satoru’s precum and your wet fluids compose a cacophonic symphony. Shit, if he keeps going, you’ll-

“Yeah, m-mhm. I-I’m, fuuuck, fine.” Satoru grins maniacally above you his hot breath pasts your cheek and into your ear. The tip of his cock abuses your cervix as he compacts you tightly under giant muscle, arms littered with bulging purple and blue veins as he keeps you steady. His pubes tickle your clit whenever his hips kissed yours. Both breaths were getting heavy.

“Are you sure, you sound…sick.” Her words were laced with worry as she stood there, unmoving. “Do you need for me to come in?”

Satoru finds her naivety hilarious but decides it's time to break the barrier. He does so by raising his hips to an exaggerated extent before hammering back into you, the sound much louder than before as clapping fills the atmosphere. He guarantees your roommate will pick it up. Which she does.

“Wait, are you-” She gasps when she hears your sobbing moans echo in her ears. “Oh my God.” You’re too fucked stupid to give a reply when she blurts out an embarrassed ‘sorry!’ before taking hurried footsteps away from your door.

“Guess we scared her off, huh?” Knowing damn well he was the one who only made the effort to let your roommate know you were being pounded to oblivion. “Think she’s gonna tell everyone about this? Tell everyone how her son and daughter ruin the family name because we were caught fucking each other in your room?” He’s quick to pick up in your roleplay.

“Hnngh, I don’t know, ‘Toru.”

“I’m quite sure she will. What do you say, sweet girl, how about we both give a real reason to soil the family name and let me come in this pussy?” His thrusts start to stutter with each filthy word–cream drips from your cunt and down to the tight rim of your ass. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you groan quietly.

“Answer me now, sweetheart, or Satoru-nii is gonna-”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck. Please come inside me, please, ‘don’t care about anyone in this family but you! Come inside me, Satoru-nii!”

With that being said, he fulfills your wish by giving you one, big thrust and stilling his cock deep in his little sister’s pussy to pump his hot seed in increments. Whimpering loudly as he does so. His face contorts in the cutest grimace that you wish you could smooch. You heavily breathe in unison until he pulls out of you (fingering his remaining cum back into your fluttering hole).

He kisses your cheek, then your forehead, and lastly your lips before saying, “You did so well for me.”

And it’s after this session that have you thinking–‘perhaps you do get it’.

#gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #satoru smut #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk smut #jjk x reader #tw:stepcest #tw:foot/fetish #tw:dubcon

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jacaerysgf · 3 months

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hiii, how are you? I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if you could do Jacaerys Velaryon x reader. Where reader is Alicent’s firstborn daughter, and they were married in hopes to reconcile the family. Could you do newly married headcannons for them, sfw and nsfw. They don’t necessarily show their hate 24/7, they married out of duty, and for their families but they don’t get along or make efforts to get along, if that makes sense. More like a subtle enemies to lovers. If you can do this, it would be great. And I hope you have a wonderful day 😊😊😊

a/n: hiii i am great i hope youve been well. <3 TYSM FOR THE REQUEST !! sorry it took me a couple days to get too !! i went a little overboard sorry i just loved this rq sm !! <3 hope you enjoy !! (this is more of a fic in headcannon format :3)

word count: 2k

warnings: smut, slight enemies to lovers, slight baela/jaacerys romance for the drama, happy ending not bulleted, not proofread, avoided the use of y/n

You didn't hate jacaerys targaryen. No, you never had strong feelings about him. Even in your youth as you grew up you never thought much about him. If anything the most you had ever had is a slight resentment towards him for his treatment of aemond.

Your engagement had come as a surprise. Especially knowing how much your mother didn't care for rhaenyra or her family, especially her sons. But apparently rhaenyra and Alicent had a moment together and the two managed to come to an agreement for the sake of the family.

You couldn't gauge his reaction when he heard the news, he did not seem as shocked as you, leading you to believe he had already been informed. The two of you stared at each other and you could sense his annoyance. You've never had any bad blood so you don't understand what he could be so annoyed about until his eyes stray from you and you turn your head to where he's looking and notice he was looking at baela who also had a saddened look on her face but covered it up well. The two of you barely speak during the wedding prep.

The two of you actually argued quite a bit about the ceremony. You had wanted one more to your faith, the seven, while he was insistent that you had a traditional targaryen ceremony and for it to take place at driftmark.

“Of course you would want it at driftmark.” you scoff His head shoots up and he gives you a glare. “What could that possibility mean?”

“Nothing my dear i just find it funny that you of all people want a ceremony at driftmark. What sort of relation do you have there? Wouldn't a place like harrenhal suit you better”

His hands slam on the table and he stands his eyes never leaving yours as his face turns angry.

You can hear your mother scold you but you just laugh and keep a smile on your face. The meaning of your words are very clear to him but as he opens his mouth to speak his mother interrupts suggesting just to have two ceremonies.

You roll your eyes as he sits back down and agrees. The two of you continue to make sly remarks at one another to many, It would just look like friends poking fun at one another but the two of you knew that you two could barely stand each other. It was easy enough to fool the public into thinking the two of you had been a love match. Especially since they had no clue the two of you did not speak outside of public appearances.

Your wedding was magical, without any of the magic. You would have two ceremonies, one of the more intimate traditional Targaryen ceremony and one longer three day ceremony for the faith. you ended up having the targaryen ceremony first. It was a very small ceremony with only your family there.

Even though you held no feelings towards the velaryon boy there's something so intimate about the tradition ceremony that it had even your heart skipping.

you couldn't tell if he felt the same, he had a clearly fake pleased look but you did notice he did not spare baela one glance but instead had spent that night dancing with you.

you two decided not to consummate the marriage that night much to your relief, and would wait till your other wedding night. The public had no clue the two of you were already married, during your wedding feast many would come up to you and spare their congratulations and provide a gift.

You and jacaerys sat at the head of the table. The night had been going fine until one particular lord came up and started saying some inappropriate comments about you.

You began to shrink in your seat and could not find a voice to say anything yet you did not have to as jacaerys was quick to shut him down, his tone had changed much from his kinder tone earlier while regarding guests.

He had laced his land with yours and quickly shooed him away. He had turned to you and asked you if you were alright and all you could do was nod. jacaerys keeps his hand laced with yours the whole night. Despite the fact the two of you are still at odds you find comfort with his warm hand in yours.

The next day was the tourney. You knew jacaerys was going to be competing. No one dared to ask you for your favor. When jacaerys finally was announced he immediately strolled over to the royal box where you had been sitting, “your favor my love?”

After you had reached out and tied it around his sword he grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to the back before riding away. When your wedding rolled around it had once again been a pleasant ceremony. A part of you which you didn't want to acknowledge felt as though there was a small smile on Jace's face when the two of you kissed. The celebration afterwards has also been nice but a part of you felt dread as you realized the bedding ceremony had been right around the corner. Jacaerys had noticed at some point during the festivities you had been upset, “are you alright?”

You didn't want to mention it so you just nodded my head and didn't turn to face him. You could feel his stare and when you didnt turn towards him he sighed. “If you hold any worries about the bedding ceremony, put them to rest. I have already insisted it is not necessary.” You whip your head towards him in shock but he had turned away from you and was staring at the crowd drinking from his chalice. “You did?”

“Of course, there is no reason to. Though the maesters were insistent they checked you afterwards. I had attempted to avoid that as well but they were persistent.” “Why?”

His face scrunched as if he had been confused about your question. “You did not want to do it. Did you?” Your head begins to hurt as you think about the fact he had put in all the extra effort to make sure you did not have to do something you did not want to.

The two of you decided to call it a night and you attempted to ignore your brothers yells of encouragement as you quickly exited the room. You had arrived at your chambers first and were quickly stripped out of your extravagant dress by some maids and the pit in your stomach continued to grow.

There was no way jacaerys would be a cruel lover. Sure the two of you did not get along most of the time but you felt he had been kind to you today and the last couple days. Lost in your thoughts you barely noticed as jacaerys walked into the room still in his formal wear and dismissed all the maids. You stood up to face him and suddenly it became alarmingly clear to you that you two were alone in this room while he was fully dressed and you were wearing a plain white nightgown. No words are spoken between the two of you as you stare as he begins to remove his formal wear. “I am sorry.”

His back is turned to you as he removes his coat and you watch as he freezes “what for?” “This whole marriage. You clearly did not want this and I am sorry you are being forced into this. Maybe I do not want it as well but it must feel worse for you.”

Your head had fallen to the floor as you went on. His hand grabbed your chin and he forced you to lock eyes with him. He had a relaxed face as he gave you a concerned look. “It is our duty you must be upset about it as well. Why would it be worse for me?”

“I assumed you had relations with baela..” you trail off and try to look away but his grip immediately pulls you back. “I promise you I shall never be unfaithful if that is your worry. You are my wife. I could not imagine disrespecting you that way.” It is clear to you he does not deny the fact he has feelings for her but you choose to ignore this fact as he leans in and kisses you. It becomes painfully obvious to the two of you that you are both terribly inexperienced He leads you over to the bed as you gasp as you fall back onto the bed

He is a very kind lover though it was very obvious to him he struggled to know what to do His fingers were clumsy as he attempted to prep you (which you did not expect as your mother told you he would just stick it in) But once he got to the rhythm of it he was very good and soon enough you had your first come. “Are you sure you've never done this nephew?” He laughs and shakes his head, “never dear auntie though i did read up on it.”

He kisses down your neck as he slips off your dress Lost in the feeling you barely noticed that he had slipped off his trousers he was still wearing and was fully nude You would say he has a nice dick but you've never seen another one so you have nothing to compare it to You fight the urge to reach out and grab it He clumsily lines himself up and it hurts.

He presses kisses all over your face in an attempt to calm you down and waits for you to give him the okay before he begins to move. Your mother had spent the last week tell you to be prepared to just lay there and take it and you would find no enjoyment at all but in this exact moment you had no clue what she was talking about You had never felt this amazing in your life, he was kissing you as one of his hands was playing with your clit and another one was locked with yours next to your head.

He was slow, not the rough and hard pace you had been expecting. He valued your pleasure just as much if not more than his own. He was also much more vocal that you had expected, your mother told you men do not make much noise but as he laid his head right next to your ear you could hear ever groan and whine leave his lips He encouraged you to come first before he spilled himself inside you. When he got up soon after you felt a chill, your mother did say men did just quickly leave as soon as they were done. To your surprise all he had done was get up to alert the maids to draw a bath for you.

This however alerts the maester and your mother who comes running in, your mother obviously concerned when she sees you but you reassure her you are fine. Jaacerys was nowhere to be seen and did not return til you were already asleep. You had expected the two of you to have a better relationship after the last couple days have been nice but jacaerys has a very sudden shift in attitude and is back to his sly remarks. A part of you feels sick as if the last couple days had just been a ruse to not have to force you to bed him and he was just like all men. Even when he comes back to bed you he is certainly not as nice as the first time.

“Jaacerys must be rather upset these days.” your brother aemond says over tea one morning “However, would you know that?” “Baela has been betrothed to one of arryns.” Now it has made sense to you and you find yourself seething with anger.

When he comes to join the two of you for tea you quickly make some excuse and rush away ignoring jacaerys confused look as he looks after you. The next couple days follow a similar routine. He is up before you and you pretend to oversleep so you miss breakfast with him, you busy yourself with other activities and avoid even being in the same room as him and when he tried to see you before bed you were already pretending to sleep. After the third day of this you hear him sigh as he sees you in bed already.

That next morning you expect things to go a similar way as the last couple had but were shocked to see jacaerys there instead of aemond who you were supposed to have tea with. “Jacaerys.” “Sit” “I'm supposed to be meeting with aemond-” “And you're meeting with me instead. Sit.” You begrudgingly sit and speak no words as he pours you a cup and you wordlessly take a sip. “You have nothing to say?” “Should i?”

He rolls his eyes, “we have not spoken in many a moon.” “I have been busy.” He scoffs, “busy with what?” You grow angry at his tone, “I apologize my prince but just because some of us aren't crowned princes that does not mean the things we spend our days doing are unimportant.” His face immediately drops as he rubs his hands over his face, “I am sorry, my lady, I didn't mean it like that.” You say nothing just look off to the side “I have just missed you.”

You laugh and his face grows angry once more, “what's that?” “Are you sure it's me you miss?” “Whatever does that mean.” You continue to laugh, “surely it must be your dear baela you miss not i. I heard she is to be married off.” His face turns confused, “what does baela have anything to do with this?”

“She is the reason you are upset, no? Why have you been upset?” He sighs and puts his head in his head. “No, I mean yes but no.” “What does that mean?” “I am not upset that she is betrothed.” You keep silent as he continues, “i thought we were meant to be ever since i was a young kid and i do admit that i was more than angry when i had been informed i would be marrying you and even angrier when we continued to argue but after a while i realized that i had enjoyed your company more and more, especially after our wedding.” A light blush dusts his face, “and when i heard the news of baelas betrothal i had expected myself to be filled with rage but i felt nothing. And that terrified me. The only thing I could think about was you.”

“I avoided being short tempered and nasty with you so I apologize but these couple days without speaking to you have been tortuous. I have come to realize I need you.” You are frozen as a warm feeling fills you, you can tell by the look on his face he means every word. “I love you jacaerys.” “And I love you my beloved.”

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gay-dorito-dust · 8 months

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Hi! Is it possible for you to write something about Tomas with a very blushy s/o? Like they tend to blush or fluster easily and he pokes fun at them even though he's lowkey the same way.

This was…something that kinda went off request. (Is this OOC Smoke? idk you tell me.)

Tomas didn’t mean to take advantage of how easily you fluster but how could he not when you looked so cute with wide doe eyes that adamantly avoided making contact with his, whilst your hands reached up to cover your heated cheeks out of embarrassment, your voice pleading with him to stop his constant teasing. However You never made it easy for Tomas even in the slightest as he would always end up reaching a hand out to lift your head up by the chin so you were forced to look him in the eyes, using his other hand to remove your own from your face, just to add onto the teasing fun by saying; ‘are you flustered?’ Whilst his eyes engaged in every reaction you gift him.

He’d then gasps, ‘oh you are!’ He coos. ‘Dear gods and here I thought you couldn’t get anymore adorable, you, my beloved always end up proving me wrong like always.’ He’d finish whilst receiving a huge power trip from how you’d weakly try to push against his strong chest to create some distance between the two of you, only for him to cage you in his strong arms and hold you against it instead, smiling dopily underneath his mask, a side effect you’ve had on him for a long while now but he wouldn’t want it any other way. ‘Tomas. Stop.’ You’d whine, burying your head into his chest to hide away from him, feeling all sheepish and squirmy beneath his gaze, cheeks still uncomfortably warm from the previous bouts of teasing.

‘Sorry sweetheart but no can do, you’re reactions only encourage me into teasing you even more.’ Tomas said cheekily as he nuzzles his face against your head, tightening his grip on you slightly when he felt you attempt an break out, wanting to keep you caged to his chest forever if possible. ‘You honestly have no idea what you do to me my love but,’ Tomas then moved his head to be level with your ear, you didn’t need to see his mouth to know there was a mischievous smirk because you could feel it through the mask, plus the way his eyes would reflect that same mischief didn’t make matter better either; ‘I’m sure we can find a more intimate way that’ll spell it out loud and clear for everyone to hear just how bad the effect you have on me.’ You felt your whole body heat up at the insinuation as you then smacked Tomas lightly on the bicep.

‘Behave yourself, we’re in public.’ You hissed as you looked at him, conscientious of the possibility that someone, god forbid that someone be Bi-Han, Kuai Liang or even worse both of them, overhearing this and making their own assumptions. Tomas on the other hand couldn’t help but find some form of humour in your furrowed brows and pouty lips; to him, you looked like a child on the verge of throwing a tantrum if he didn’t give you what you want. ‘I’m not the one who’s got their head in the gutter though am I?’ He retorts as your left once again huffing, you were staring to understand why he enjoyed poking fun at you from time to time, you fell into his traps so seamlessly that he didn’t have to do too much because you already did that for him and for that you condemn yourself.

‘It’s not my fault that you word certain phrases into making me think those types of things, and besides I’m very much aware of how…vocal you can be during our more intimate moments.’ You said with a suggestive smile, batting your eyes at him for added effect as it was you who watched as Tomas swallowed thickly and continued to watch as his eyes grew wide as your ears could pick up the distinct hitch in his breath, along with the way his hands gripped your waist tightly. It was entertaining in seeing how quickly Tomas went from cocky to flustered with a few purposely placed words strung together; When he didn’t responded after a while you reached your hands to hold his face, allowing for your thumbs to gently caresses the parts that his mask couldn’t quite cover.

‘What’s wrong Tomas, you seem a little speechless.’ You said with fake worry as you brought your face closer to his so he could see the smirk growing across your face. ‘Cat got your tongue, pretty boy?’ You added with a whisper, not bothering to hide your amusement at the sudden change of your dynamic as you the pulled yourself away from him and out of his grasp as you walked away, looking back to see him still frozen to the spot you’ve left him in, before rapidly blinking his eyes when they cast their gaze on you with a unfamiliar look, which resulted in your cheeks becoming warm once more but you managed to bypass it in order to give Tomas a warning for the future. ‘Two can play at this game my sweet and we can go at it all night if that’s what you wish.’ You finished with a wink.

#mk1 #mk x reader #mk imagine #mk x y/n #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat imagine #smoke x reader #mortal kombat imagines #mortal kombat x you #mortal kombat x y/n #mortal kombat 1 x reader #tomas vrbada x reader #tomas vrbada x y/n #tomas vrbada x you #Tomas vrbaba imagine #vrbada imagines

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directdogman · 3 months

Note

Hey there's someone trying to say you said you were pro Israel on discord? They're anonymous and say you blocked them before they could get screenshots so I don't really believe them, but still :[

Mhm. Nice bit of news to wake up to, this.

Yeah, so this person's a troll and they're more than likely lying on purpose in order to try to me look bad because I blocked them on Twitter for being unpleasant, something I rarely even do and they're still seething about it. The block had nothing to do with Gaza, the person was just being annoying and I thought it'd be healthier to block and move on. I'd really prefer not to have to give this person energy, but if there's a rumor going around, I'd like to nip it in the bud, since it's very easy to disprove in this case.

To explain what this person's blathering about: Earlier this week, on a Phonegingi plush advert, this random user that doesn't follow me (and actually instructs fans of mine not to interact with them in their bio) made a dramatic QRT decrying me for posting a DT advert during a strike week, which I honestly had no clue it was, especially since my own timeline was (and still is) full of accounts posting normally.

Given that the person seemingly encountered one of my posts in the wild and ended up seething because of it + likely didn't want anything to do with me on their timeline (as their bio indicated), after thinking it over briefly, I did the healthy thing and just blocked the person + moved on. Makes sense, right? I'll admit: Even if the way the person approached me was regrettable, if I'd known it was a strike week, I'd have participated (as I'd participated in the last one), so I stopped posting teasers for the week anyway, only resuming again yesterday.

I'll also say: I checked my own timeline btw and looked at the accounts posting, and nobody else had anyone acting like this in their replies, even the much larger accounts. Nor did anyone else contact/reply to me in any way stating any disapproval.

Given that I've only blocked one account recently that isn't a replybot (and ofc, given the subject matter of that tweet), I'd have to assume that this is the anonymous person spreading stuff.

I'd understand where this person was coming from if maybe I'd stayed completely silent about Gaza, (which a lot of accounts I follow have) but I haven't. I had a Palestinian aid post pinned on my Twitter for weeks, I've talked about Gaza's child population and my support for South Africa's Hague suit in my discord server, I've engaged in the boycotts, wound down posting during strikes, donated a pretty substantial amount of Dialtown revenue towards sending money/esims... I have 4 bucks in my bank account right now and when my next DT check comes in, you'd better believe I'll be giving more. That's my right as a private citizen and one I'll continue to exercise.

I feel pretty uncomfortable having to put this stuff in front of me to 'prove' myself, even if some of it is public anyway. Charity should be something you do because you CARE and if it wasn't for this person, I'd have been far happier keeping a lower profile and not explicitly calling attention to my own aid, but given this ask, I feel it'd be stupid not to nip this in the bud. The majority of this information could be easily found with the tiniest amount of digging, btw, so it's not like the user couldn't have known any of this. This is the part of having a fandom that creators seldom talk about. You block one person for being a lil annoying, next thing you know, there's rumors that you support genocides! Fun.

So yeah, I'd like you to tell this person to just move on like a normal person (send them this post if you have to) and to stop spreading incorrect rumors about me out of spite. If they insist, I'm happy to pull up receipts to prove everything I've said. If they actually thought I was pro-Israel, they wouldn't be spreading it anonymously, they'd be writing another public post about the subject matter. Also if you see anyone repeating the rumor, please correct them. Thanks.

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sv5hive · 3 months

Text

womaniser | jb22

pairing: jenson button x fempopstar!reader, brief mark webber appearance

content warning(s): swearing, mentions of drinking, use of y/n, inaccurate information about the monaco paddock/circuit, suggestive champagne drinking(?)

word count: 1,771

note: first of all, thank you for all the notes on my lewis fic i'm absolutely blown away 😭🫶🏻 secondly, first fic featuring mr. playboy himself! i hope you enjoy this one bcos i had so much fun writing it 🩷

(masterlist!)

you gawked at the herds of people waiting for your arrival at the entrance of the paddock from behind your sunglasses. even after years of being in the limelight, you still weren't used to all the attention.

somehow, news had leaked that you would be attending the monaco grand prix this year, which meant that you had to cover yourself in team gear (that your manager had fortunately brought to your hotel room the night before) from head to toe and walk in with the other team members rather than make a glamorous entrance in a far too revealing outfit like you usually did.

not that you were complaining. your manager would have your head if you caused any more chaos especially after your recent stunt during some after party which involved a bit too much drinking and dancing for the public's liking. apparently people didn't think three awards was something to celebrate with several rounds of shots.

"over there!"

shit.

despite your best efforts to remain incognito, it seemed you were identifiable even while wearing the slightly grim team uniform you wouldn't be caught dead in if it were under normal circumstances.

in a split second decision you made a run for it, hoping to evade any and all slightly deranged fans who might cause mayhem if they managed to reach you. stifling a giggle, you sprinted down the road without sparing a single thought about how odd it looked to everyone else around. you were suddenly grateful for the fact that you were wearing attire suitable for an unexpected, albeit thrilling, getaway.

yep. your manager is definitely going to give you an earful when you get back.

after what felt like an eternity of running, you ducked in between two motor homes to try and catch your breath while also staying hidden. you were so preoccupied with your own endeavours that you hadn't noticed the two men who were once engaged in their own conversation, now ogling at you.

just your luck. were they fans too? god, when were you going to catch a break?

"sorry, i can't sign anything or take any pictures right now. thanks for your support though." you muttered, finally managing to get out your pr approved message while leaning against the wall.

you promptly figured out that you had obviously said something wrong by the sight of a growing smile on the slightly shorter, blond man. looking closer at his chest, you recognised the same brawn gp logo that you were currently wearing stitched onto his racesuit.

fuck.

you looked to the dark haired man on his right who still looked confused at your random appearance. as you moved your gaze down from his face, you then noticed the red bull racing logo on his racesuit.

double fuck. but of course it was your luck to run into the drivers and embarrass yourself!

"shit. ok, wait, hang on. sorry about that. i'm not actually like that, i swear. i'm just trying not to make my manager any angrier at me than she already is." you managed to huff out.

"no worries, take your time."

thankfully, the blond man could see that you were still desperately trying to get air in your lungs and graciously gave you time to recover.

"erm, sorry, can we start over? i'm y/n l/n, nice to meet you."

you moved forward to shake both of their hands.

"jenson button, it's a pleasure. although i feel like i've already met you the amount of times you've been in the headlines."

you almost lost all your breath again as he maintained perfect eye contact while shaking your hand. you grimaced at the reminder of the mischief that you had been known for since the beginning of your career.

is this the regret that your manager was talking about during one of her lectures?

"mark webber, nice to meet you too. so, what was that all about?"

the brunet man, mark as you had just learnt, finally snapped out of his daze as he lightly shook your hand.

"oh, that? it's not a big deal, just some fans who wanted to meet me. i mean i appreciate them and i'm sure they have good intentions but it's a little scary to have a horde of people chasing you. you understand, right?"

jenson's shit-eating grin grew impossibly bigger and it was starting to get on your nerves. and this intense staring contest he had initiated didn't help.

what was his problem?

"yeah, i guess? something tells me you get recognised a lot more often than we do."

you nodded at mark's response without even giving him as much as a glance. if it weren't for the fact that you refused to lose the unofficial staring contest, you might have felt bad for practically ignoring him.

mark looked between you two and made the sensible decision to not get involved in whatever the hell was going on.

"uh, i'm gonna go get ready. see you out there, mate."

"yeah sure, see you later."

and just like that, you were alone with jenson.

"so, what's the world's biggest pop star doing at a formula 1 race?"

your face warmed at the compliment from the man who was becoming more and more attractive as time went on.

"thanks. my friend was meant to be here but something came up and she gave me her pass. i don't know anything about racing but i've heard the after parties are good. is that right?"

"good? they're better than good. they're the best parties in the world."

you raised an eyebrow at his declaration. you had been to more after parties than you could care to remember and you heavily doubted that they could be topped. sensing your uncertainty, jenson made an offer.

"tell you what. if i win the race today, you have to let me take you out to celebrate. i'll even let you watch the race from my garage."

he was on pole position and it was almost impossible to overtake at monaco. but you didn't have to know that.

you did need somewhere safe to watch from. and who knows? maybe celebrating with him could be fun.

"and what if you don't win?"

"don't worry about that, sweetheart. i'll win it just for you." he replied shooting you a wink.

jesus, was he trying to make you pass out?

"well if you're so confident then sure."

"great. let me take you to our garage. don't worry, your fans won't be able to get in there. although i can't promise that some of the team won't ask you for pictures."

"as long as they don't try and trample me i think i'll be fine!"

laughing along with him to the garage, both of you failed to notice the cameras pointed at you, broadcasting your interaction to live television.

almost two hours had passed by now and you were anxiously waiting for jenson to cross the line in first place. you didn't think watching race cars go round in circles could ever be so exciting but your mind had been undoubtedly changed after today. jenson had just begun his final lap around the prestigious circuit when the mechanics started leaving the garage. through all the emotion no one had bothered to tell you what was happening so you just rushed outside with them.

eventually you managed to push your way to the front of the crowd and rested against the wall facing the number boards waiting for the top 3 drivers arrival.

"where's jenson?" you turned to the mechanic on your right after the second and third drivers, who you found out were rubens barrichello and kimi räikkönen, parked their cars behind their respective number boards while jenson was nowhere to be found.

you soon got your answer once you saw him round the corner on foot.

"looks like he got lost!" joked the same mechanic on your right.

you shook your head and chuckled at the absurdity of a professional racing driver getting lost at a track he's driven at several times before. in the end he managed to get to the podium to raise his trophy and celebrate with his teammate.

a serene smile fell on his face as the british national anthem played for him for the fifth time that season. slowly but surely his claim to the 2009 title was becoming stronger and stronger.

as his eyes fell on his team he picked out your face in the sea of people. acting solely on impulse, he blew a kiss towards you ultimately causing an echo of wolf whistles. you made a motion as if to catch the kiss and slip it into the pocket of your jeans, saving it for later.

it would just be rude to leave the man hanging after he had let you stay in his garage. it definitely was not because he was charming your socks off.

shortly after the podium ceremony, he made his way towards the wall you were stood against. joining in with everyone else, you applauded him as he walked up. you let him celebrate with the people who had made the win possible before he finally reached you.

"congratulations, jense! you were incredible!"

"thank you, darling! would you like to try some of this champagne? might not be as good as some of the stuff you've had but i like to think victory makes it taste sweeter."

you smirked at the thought.

"if you insist." came your reply before you tilted your head back and opened your mouth to let him pour the champagne in.

for the first time since you had met him, he was speechless. snapping out of it, he poured the champagne into your mouth and the cheers seemed to become deafening. you tapped his chest to signal him to stop and wiped your mouth with your sleeve.

"you were right. victory does make it sweeter."

you mirrored the grin on his face as the celebrations almost faded away into the background. you two must have had the same thought in that moment because before you knew it, you were kissing each other as if there weren't dozens of cameras being shoved in your faces.

once again, you were breathless as you pulled away.

"i know i owe you a proper celebration, but how about dinner? just us two?"

your cheeks were starting to hurt from the permanent grin on your face now.

"sounds like a proper celebration to me."

your manager was definitely going to kill you now. but you couldn't care less; you had a dinner date with jenson button.

#f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #jenson button x reader #jenson button x you #jenson button imagine #jenson button x fem!reader #jenson button

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the-stars-in-your-eyes-if · 4 months

Text

☀︎NO DEMO YET☀︎ PLAYLIST ☀︎

☀︎SYNOPSIS☀︎

Your childhood friend has always dreamed of the big scene, of the crowd singing your lyrics, of a world tour. Max always wanted for your bands to succeed together. Until...

Well, it is was all a big stupid joke.

The real world caught up to you: you are no longer the naive child you once were. Writing a Grammy worthy album isn’t as easy as it seems and the big scene is nowhere to be seen. You navigate through life as you can, you party with your friends every Saturday and write music all week. You enjoy each one of your gigs – big and small. Your burning love for music doesn’t seem to fade. Your band brought together a solid community that crosses borders. You have fun with your band and it’s all that matter.

But you can’t help but fantasize that, someday, you’ll be at the top of the world…

Big stupid joke, right?

✮BATTLE OF THE BANDS IS BACK!✮

You thought 2020 was the end of us, uh?

You couldn’t be more wrong!

The worldwide known music contest is finally back!

We carefully chose the mentors of our beloved participants. This year will be all pink…

Make way for Pink Riot!!!

Application open to foreigners (check our website)

RATED +18

TW: explicit language, (occasional) violence, transphobia (one character is misgendered but just in one scene), use of alcohol and drugs, (soft) sexual content, parental abuse (flashback), depression, self-harm (warning will be in the "next" button), mention of suicide (same as self-harm)

☀︎FEATURES☀︎

– Customize your MC’s appearance and personality. You decide of their public image and persona.

– Your choices will define your band’s public image and popularity. Are they loved? Do they make underground or mainstream music? Are they the parents’ worst nightmare? The reference of rebellious kids?

– Decide your band’s aesthetic. Do they have one to begin with? Or do they each dress in their own style?

– Write your own lyrics!

– Engage in romantic affairs…

– ...or don’t, your choice!

– Are you going to help the people that cross your path or do you only care about yourself?

☀︎A BIT OF CONTEXT☀︎

Of course, this story is set on Earth.

But.

Racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, islamophobia, antisemitism and fatphobia will get you in court.

You are not very well seen if you do one of those things and, if you’re a celebrity/politician/public figure, it can (and will) ruin your career.

I know that this isn’t realistic at all but I need to believe that, one day, this will be real. My characters have and will go through enough trauma and bad moments, I want to give them some peace.

And it feels really good to make a world where those things will ruin the oppressor and not the oppressed.

☀︎ROs☀︎

THE HERMIT — Diesel Di Angelo (they/them)

Diesel is the soul of the band, they bring a sort of osmosis. Their calm energy somehow has a place on stage and is liked by everyone.

Diesel took their first steps in the music world with Max and MC. It was just the three of them before the band grew bigger. Diesel is a talented guitarist, they worked hard to get where they are and they don’t stop improving. They are quite reserved and don’t talk about their feelings… Who knows what lies beneath their shell?

THE MISCHIEVOUS DRUMMER — Roman Lupin (he/him)

If MC is the backbone of the band, Roman is its beating heart. He has no problem to make the public jump from the back of the stage. He’s a spark that will light a bonfire.

Roman learned to play drum from his mother. He went to the conservatory but he didn’t stuck with it. Since a young age, Roman wants to have a band and to perform all around the world. Roman is full of life and he’s the human version of a sunshine. Is there something behind that smile or is he genuinely happy?

THE LITTLE MERMAID — Isra Wafa (she/they)

Isra brings magic to the band. Her mermaid low voice is unique and enchants the public. If you think you’ve heard good bass players, just wait until you see Isra on stage.

When Isra was a child, their parents let them chose an instrument to learn and to their surprise, she chose the bass. They fell in love with this low instrument. They navigated from band to band before settling for this band her boyfriend was part of. Isra keeps ignoring their responsibilities toward her family. For how long can they pretend it doesn’t exist?

THE REBEL ANGEL — Archibald “Archie” de Beaumont (they/he)

Even with a classical training, Archie managed to switch to their band’s genre without too much troubles. All the members affirm it: Archie is a gift from the universe.

Archie popped out of nowhere to audition to be the band’s keyboardist. He was the most talented person they saw all day and the chemistry was very much here. The band doesn’t know much about Archie, but it doesn’t matter. They are a good person and a dear friend. It wouldn’t change anything to learn about their life before the band. Right?

THE MANAGER — Cal Bremont (he/him)

Cal works in the shadow to make the band shines under the spotlight of the biggest stages. The band claims it, he is the best manager you could hope for.

Cal takes his job very seriously, he has a perfect work ethic. Maybe he is a bit too close to his clients and they may not just be clients… But, well, no one is complaining. Cal is very secretive about his personal life, he never mentioned his family or anything else. Can he maintain his relationship with his friends and still keep his life a mystery?

THE RISING STAR — Max Larash (she/her or they/them)

Max moved their band to the other side of the world and they managed to impose themselves on the west coast scene. We’ll keep an eye on them as they’ll compete against their former friends…

Because of artistic divergences, Max decided to leave the band when Isra and Roman joined them and they created their own band with high school friends. Max had big dreams for Sleep Walking and their friends in MC’s band, but it didn’t turn out as Max has hoped. Sleep Walking left the country for the USA without their friends and they intentionally lost all contacts with them…

THE MUSE — Olivia “Ollie” Madden (she/her)

You may have never see her face but, as a comics fan, Ollie Madden is a name far from unknown. None other than the comics artist and writer of the most followed comics, Ollie is still a mystery to her fans.

Olivia works for Blue Pegasus, a major comics book publisher, since years. She was the comics artist on a lot of books, it took her a lot of hard work to finally publish her own series. Olivia isn’t only a famous artist, she also is a single mother. She’s taking care of a lot by herself and it often leads to forget about herself. There is nobody to remind her she’s human and not a superhero…

THE PRINCESS — Katharina "Kat" Deluca (she/her)

We don’t need to present Katharina Deluca anymore. Success and awards seem to follow every movies our Lady K touched. She confessed that her break from the cameras and greens screens was to be present for her best friend… Athena Pierce.

Also known as the Princess, Katharina is one of the biggest actresses of her generation. Between two roles worthy of an Oscar, she is also a model and the face of the infamous designer brand: Beaumont-Griffin. She is in the industry since she was 12. But, behind closed doors, Kat doesn’t seem to have a joyful life… What is she hiding from the world?

GODDESS OF MUSIC — Athena Pierce (she/her)

Athena is a legend in the industry. Everybody wants to work with her and Pink Riot. Her voice will shatter your world, there is a before and an after Athena Pierce.

Athena is the lead singer and front woman of Pink Riot. She was a star child and charmed America with her angelic voice. But, with the creation of Pink Riot, Athena is no longer the little angel of the USA. She’s now known as a freaking rebel and she is quite provocative. She flirts with the limits all the time. Her persona is loved all around the world, but who is the real Athena?

☀︎CANON EVENTS☀︎

You can customize a lot of things regarding your MC and your band. But there are a few things that are canon.

— MC is born and lives in France. Where exactly is up to you. The only place MC can’t have grow up in is Paris. (I headcanon them growing up in Perpignan or Montpellier)

— The names of MC parents can’t be choose. I tried to make them as common as possible so you can choose their origins. MC is French but their parents can be from wherever you want!

— MC's age can’t be choose.

— MC is friends with Max and Diesel since they are 6. They were in school together.

— MC’s first band is with Max and Diesel.

— During high school, MC met Roman and Isra. They joined MC’s band but Max didn’t like the kind of music their band was into so they formed their own band with other high school friends (Sleep Walking).

— The OG band (MC-Max-Diesel) exist until the fateful break up.

— MC’s band and Sleep Walking always were there for each other and gave mutual support. They also create songs and musics together, some are only instrumental and other are with vocal.

— MC speaks French and English. Feel free to add a third and even a fourth language.

— MC lives with Isra and Roman since they finished high school.

#the stars in your eyes if #interactive fiction #interactive story #choice of games #if #if: intro #dashingdon

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bloodyselfshipping · 1 year

Text

(Hetalia Main 8 x Reader) How they talk about you!

(Gender Neutral) Headcanons ~

Most people around Alfred would probably not realize you two are romantically involved. The way he talks about you is less like a partner and more like a best friend.

But that said, everyone would know who you are. It’s immediately obvious how close your relationship is. He seems to know everything about you.

He won’t bring you up constantly, but your presence is around him in some way.

“Who are you texting during the meeting?!” “Oh, Y/N! Right now they’re-”

“Who are you inviting?” “Y/N! I really think they’d have fun coming along-”

“Are you free tonight?” “Mm, sorry dude. I’m with Y/N tonight, just like last night, and the night before we-”

But if anyone asks, he loves talking about you. You make everything more fun, so even thinking about you makes him feel so much better!

He doesn’t bring you up much, but when he does it’s so obvious how much he loves you. Always looking in the distance longingly…

Doesn’t share a lot of personal details, probably doesn’t even mention your name. He always calls you nicknames or just “my lover.”

Arthur prefers to keep you his little secret.

“Ah, I have to go. I have an engagement with… someone special.”

So it's usually very stilted and formal, but not because of a lack of affection. He thinks that PDA and gushing about romance in public is tactless, so he refrains.

You’re like royalty to him so he always makes sure to make his respect more apparent than anything. No one is more special to him than you <3

The second most normal out of any of them. Although he always refers to you very romantically, that isn’t very out of line for how he normally is.

It seems as if he sees you as perfect, above others in every way. He always praises you and everything you do, to an absolutely absurd degree.

Always has very specific things he calls you in front of others.

“Ah, this reminds me of my S/O. They are like poetry in motion…”

“Every day I am inspired by Y/N, even the most impressive works of art are nothing compared to them.”

“My eternal love, they are calling to me… I must go!” “Just say you wanna get outta here!”

He can’t help but gush about how perfect you are. He would say you are nothing less than soulmates.

Yao is a very traditional man. From the start of your relationship, he’s always referred to you as if you were married.

Sometimes he’ll refer to you like those old men who hate their wives, but only because he doesn’t realize the full implications.

“”Aiyaa! Have to go tend to the ball and chain, see you later!”

Except when he says that, he means it affectionately. By “tending to the old ball and chain” he means laying his head in your lap for two hours and telling you about how stupid his friends are.

He’d love nothing more than to just talk to you and you alone, he doesn’t care what anyone else thinks of you two.

Ivan CANNOT stop talking about you! Seriously, everyone is very annoyed by it. But he just can’t hold himself back, he needs everyone to know about how much he loves you.

Anytime anyone brings up something that reminds him of you, he has to go on a whole tangent. God forbid someone brings up an interest of yours, then it goes on forever.

They probably won’t even know your name because he just always uses some adorable pet name for you (:

When he misses you, it’s even worse. Anything just immediately results in,

“My darling used to call me that…” “Because it’s your name!”

If he could, he would bring you everywhere with him. So, he’ll do so in his own way (: (telling everyone who breathes in his direction about you)

Everyone is immediately aware of your existence. He LOVES bringing you up at every opportunity. All his friends need to know about his lovely S/O right now!!!

Definitely tries to show you off.

“You know whose really attractive? My S/O! Look, see!!!”

“I just thought of something funny, one time Y/N did that! But like, they were super hot!”

“Cuore mio, everyone should see how wonderful you are. Don’t be embarrassed!”

When he gets drunk, he can’t help but talk anyone’s ear off about you. About how much you mean to him, about how proud he is of you, a lot of other stuff that seems way too sentimental for an easy-going guy like him.

Often ends up bursting into rooms just to bring news of you. He gets so emotional it can become unbearable for those around him.

He can’t imagine his life without you, and everything is just a reminder of that fact. Feliciano loves you more than anything!

Ludwig wouldn’t not talk about you… but he wouldn’t go out of his way to do so. Not because he’s embarrassed of you, but because he’s embarrassed of how much he’s in love with you!

You make him so soft… and the thoughts of you are constantly distracting him! His darling (you) lives in his head rent-free, damn you!

“Oi Germany, is that a person on your lock-screen?” “N-No! Well… it’s my S/O… don’t make it into a situation!”

He thinks very highly of you, and trusts your judgment completely. Talking to you helps him think out his problems. That fact is so obvious that a lot of times, his friends will call you up for him when he’s panicking.

Not a fan of pet names, and can seem cold about your relationship in public. But don’t let that fool you, he doesn’t want to go a day without you!

Very casual about you. You’re his partner, you matter a lot to him, and he’s not embarrassed about it.

But he does use his experiences with you to help him relate to others, so you get brought up quite a lot with his friends. When he’s having trouble socially, he tries to remember everything you’ve ever told him and repeat it.

“My S/O had something similar happen to them. May I consult them on this?”

“This reminds me of something that Y/N said to me last week. Shouldn’t we just put the past behind us? They said it’s no good to dwell on these things.”

“Hm… maybe we should just go home and rest before making a decision. Besides, I want to talk to Y/N about this.” “Are you sure you don’t just miss them?” “That is a possibility.”

He acts as if you two are married, but just because you have become so important to him so quickly. You make his life so much better and easier, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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broomsick · 1 month

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Holy spaces & shrines in the modern norse path

Before we dive into the oh-so-diverse topic of holy spaces, let me first specify a few practical tips!

I’m very much aware that the definition of the term “holy” is deeply subjective and varies depending on one’s opinions. I’ll elaborate on a few of my thoughts on the topic further!

In no way are you bound by any rule regarding this aspect of paganism.

I will base my post off of my research, granted, but also on my personal experiences and practices!

Now, what makes a holy space sacred? Not necessarily "holy" per say, but simply sacred.

The very first factor to consider is, what is sacredness? Lots and lots of pagans engage mostly in solitary practice, so much is true. Which is why lots of us find ourselves gravitating towards spaces others may not necessarily find any sense of "sacredness" in. The corner of your room where you tend to pray the most? Sacred. Or the spot in your garden where you perform your harvest ritual every year! It’s the connection we feel to the space that makes it sacred in the first place. But a space being holy depends on whether or not we choose to anoint it in such a way.

When something is sacred to me, I tend to feel a sort of spiritual pull. A swelling of the heart, if you will, like the feeling I get when faced with a breathtaking landscape. The feeling of spiritual connection to a particular spot is the first intuition one needs to tune into when choosing a holy space. After all, staying in tune with one's intuition might be one of the most important aspect of any spiritual practice.

Within nordic practice, a holy space is often called vé, a sacred enclosure. Vé's are attested in numerous toponyms as well as ancient texts, such as Beowulf, or the Skáldskaparmál. Their omnipresence in Scandinavian toponyms might, when considered through a pagan lense, signify something quite interesting: the holiness of a space depends on the space itself, its location, rather than what's inside it— or rather, how grand and ornate it is. When building a holy space for oneself, one does not need lavish decoration, or an elaborate shrine with the gold foil and the statues.

However, there are a few steps one can follow in order to anoint a space as holy, if one wants to reconstruct a few practices from pre-Christian Scandinavia. Although I'll specify that as always, no rule is set in stone when it comes to neopaganism. The choice to abide by them or not is entirely up to the practitioner. And in any case, even as I was gathering these few ideas, it was clear that, as always, pre-Christian practices centered around holy spaces vastly differed depending on the place and the time. Regardless, I think it's fun to do some research on the topic in order to reconstruct on our own terms a holy space in the nordic tradition.

The first step? Having a good knowledge of your area. Both before and during the Viking Age, holy places were more often than not located outside. It can be a great help to know where to find the greenery in one's area. Is there a beach near home that the public has access to? How about a large park where you can spend some time alone without being bothered? Even your backyard does the trick! Anywhere you can see the sky and breathe the open air is already perfect. Now, the Germanic tribes would generally worship near an object of particular importance, such as a grove, a body of water, a clearing in the forest, a hill... Although this doesn't seem to be very present in historical attestations, and considering I'm devoted to Yngvi-Freyr, I'm an especially big fan of worshipping in plains, or fields!

I think it's important for me to note that if you are lucky enough to live near a body of water, you can choose to engage in one of the most popular forms of offering in nordic historical practice: throwing offerings out to sink into the water! This practice was especially widespread, evidence of it having been found as far as Britain and Iceland. Evidently, if one chooses to engage in such a practice, it's important to respect the ecosystems and stick with offerings that won't damage them (acorns, stones, flowers and the like). As for an outdoors shrine located in a forest, or near woodland, it would have been customary during pre-Christian times to center a holy space around a tall tree, perhaps representing the World Tree Yggdrasil.

Considering lots of neo-pagans prefer to keep their practice discreet, it goes without saying that the holy space of your choosing does not need to be especially big, nor especially decorated. It can be as small as it is humble! One of the spaces where I most like to worship is the little corner of the yard, tucked under a cedar tree, where I rebuild my hörgr every year, as soon as the snow melts for good. Nothing too flamboyant!

Now, the second step to building a little outdoors shrine for yourself is to choose a representation of the deity to adore. It's said that the human-like appearance of this representation mattered little to the Germanic tribes, whose representations of the Gods could be rather simple, and not especially ornate. For this reason, it would be perfectly logical to even choose an object associated with the deity in question to serve as the main representation placed in the sanctuary. If we're talking about Freyja, a falcon statuette, or feather could do the trick! As for Fenrir, any wolf imagery could work as well! In the case of Thórr, one could replicate the case of Donar's Oak and choose to center their shrine around a particular tree (the rowan are the oak would make the best choices, if one is to pick a tree sacred to Thórr). These are just examples, and the possibilities in this regard are limitless. This "main" representation can be used as the center of your sacred space, and given offerings during rituals or celebrations. In my case, I like greet this representation both when "entering" the sacred space and when leaving it, as a sign of respect!

If one so desires, it's possible to set up some kind of "delimitation" in order to mark the entrance of the sacred space, or its outline. I like to place either ribbons on nearby branches, or litter stones here and there to lie in a loose circle (we wouldn't want to block the rays of the sun from reaching the earth and keep the greenery from growing). In order to signal the entrance of shrines, the Germanic tribes would generally use heaps of dirt or pillars of stone, among other things.

Another intresting element one might include in their sacred space is the presence of fire! Whether this be a bonfire, incense, a simple candle or even just a handful of ash, there's lots of ways to include the "element" of fire into a modern day shrine. It's a means of warming up the space, so to speak: tending a fire in the shrine is akin to having a hearth in the home!

Ideas for common, historically attested offerings: Ethically-sourced animal bones, gold or golden jewelry, tools, representation of the Gods, beads and beaded jewelry, alcohol, food and meat…

Now, let's pull away from the history lesson and let's dive into modern, neo-pagan practice! I'd wager some of you are wondering, how exactly can one keep a whole shrine, but make their practice as low-key as possible?! After all, I know firsthand that solo practice is especially common among neo-pagans. So my answer to this question is, who said anything about keeping? One piece of advice I've already given to a few fellow pagans in the past is to create a little portable shrine all to yourself! Let me explain myself: you arrive at your chosen location, you put down a basket full of decoration and you put up a temporary space in which to worship for an hour or two. You take out a deity representation, a few candles (if they're allowed on site!), a handful of offerings and a cloth on which to place them. And when you're done with the ritual, you pack up your things and make sure you leave the site as clean as when you first found it. In other words, what I’m suggesting is the possibility of gathering a few designated worship items in order to make oneself a portable, personal little shrine! It might seem like a silly idea at first, but I’ve discovered it’s not only a fun habit, but it’s also greatly helpful on a tight schedule to have a quick and easy way to engage in outdoors practice.

As always, I wrote this post aiming to help fellow pagans find ways to balance historical practice and modern, solo practice! I hope these few ideas did the trick, and wish you all a good and plentiful spring season!

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#heathenry #norse paganism #spirituality #norse gods #polytheism #deities #deity work #paganism #pagan #norse polytheism #history

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t-tomuras · 11 months

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Pairing: Dabi | Touya Todoroki x F!reader

Wordcount: 2.4k

Warnings: Oral ( reader receiving ), virginity loss ( reader ), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, creampie, light biting / nipping, aftercare, if I missed anything let me know.

Notes: I havent written him in almost 2 years, Im glad its something kinda soft for my beloved @ghostbeam

“What’s a good girl like you want from a guy like me?” A teasing sentence, said with a lidded gaze and lazy smile, a half smoked cigarette half haphazardly dangling from long digits. Exhaled along with his plume of smoke before he takes another drag. You’d seen him around, lingering on the fringes of your vision seemingly everywhere you went now.

Finally approaching him after extended eye contact where neither of you chose to look away after being caught. He wasn’t shy in the slightest, his smirk and soft chuckle before looking forward again urging your feet towards him.

“What makes you think I’m so good?” Voice high and cute, higher than he’s heard before from his eavesdropping. Your smile is more alluring up close.

“I know ‘em when I see ‘em doll,” the man takes a final drag before flicking the but off his cigarette to the ground and stamping it out beneath his leather boot, “names Dabi.”

You smile, tell him your name and it feels like your fate is sealed then. Encountering him in public more frequently whether it be seeing him propped in an alleyway leisurely before you garner his attention by the call of his name or unceremoniously nudging against him. Standing close to him and following him into the parts of town you never would’ve thought to venture to before; encouraged only by the jerk of his head accompanied by his lazy smirk and lidded gaze.

Altering your everyday life after only a few short interactions, staged for you to think you’ve encountered him organically when, truthfully, Dabi had sought you out. It wasn’t hard, it was easy to figure out your routine, where you liked to frequent. You liked to visit the park often, take the scenic route on your way into town while running errands and before long you’d look to the shadows and the shade for him or any dark corners with a smile on your face.

So trusting and compliant with a virtual stranger like himself and one that never strayed too far into the sunlight, never exposed too much of his skin until you were in the deserted parts of the city with him. You’ve never asked about his burns, only if it hurts but you chewed your lip when he took your chin between his thumb and forefinger the first and only time he answered you. Pulling at the plump flesh with an intense gaze before the burning turquoise met your gaze once more with the cool breeze of his voice, “can’t feel a thing.”

Exciting and captivating you further, entranced by the enigma that he was and at first, Dabi could admit he found you fun. Engaging with you out of pure happenstance, a passing whim to continue to subtly garner your attention.

A mistake to continue to revel in it.

But he wants to be a little selfish. Can’t help it, not with how you fill any silence between you with idle chatter but it never feels bothersome. Dabi likes the sound and begins to prefer it and your company over that of the other members of the league; making up the excuse that’s why he follows you around on your mundane errands with his sunglasses on and his collar pulled high over his chin.

Unaware of the actual scope of the effect you’ve had on him until he asks you for a second time, on a random day as he sits on the floor of your bedroom while you paint his nails. “What’s a good girl like you want from a guy like me?”

He says it with his usual bored tone and you simply shrug your shoulders without looking up. Smaller fingers holding tightly to the healthy part of his hands as you carefully paint the matte black polish onto his fingernails.

Maybe you wanted to piss off your father, hell if only you knew how much he understood you there. But you, oh bringing you home he’s certain that’s something his father would have agreed was a good decision. Idly, especially when you look up momentarily to smile at him with those glittering eyes of yours, he’s more than certain his mother would have loved you before he swipes away the insidious thoughts. He has no business having them, that wasn’t a life for him anymore, nor was one he could even offer you but he’s lost in you.

Craves it the more he sneaks away to indulge in your company, morphed the desire to hear sweeter sounds. Honeyed moans and breathy sighs, his lids fluttering every time you gasp for innocent reasons only feeding the visions of himself pulling them from you provocatively. It spurs his movements now, moves his muscles as he retracts his hand from you even though you’ve barely finished the final coat to the last nail. Too far gone to back off, in too deep not to satiate his hunger he’d unknowingly cultivated.

Dabi takes the applicator from your hand and barely deposits it safely back into his home, muffling your confusion by sealing his lips over yours.

He’s kissed you before, chaste but just as spontaneous as this one; not nearly as deep and charged with intent. The way you melt so easily into him paired with the soft sound he pulls from you is the final nail in his coffin. Dabi couldn’t hold back now if he wanted to.

His body presses into yours, broad palm slipping to the small of your back as he lays you down with the other hand moves from cupping your jaw to caress the curve of your skull. Tilting you to his liking while he slots between your thighs, pressing into your center as his tongue swipes over yours greedily to earn the sweet moans that have plagued him.

But it’s when he rolls his hips into yours, when you feel his growing rigidity that you tense and push hesitantly at his chest. Dabi instantly pulls back, jared from his trance as he looks at you with darkened hues, panting for breath as he searches your features. You roll your bottom lip between your teeth, attempting to find the words but failing as the blood that roars in your ears also heats your skin. Anxious to tell him your inexperience but Dabi chuckles, leaning back and shushing you as he scoots back on your plush carpet.

“I’ve got you,” a low purr as he carefully pulls at your flimsy shorts, slow and deliberate as you raise your hips to aid him in the action, “always bite your lip when you’re nervous by the way.”

“No I don’t,” as you catch yourself performing the tell before you pinch the bridge of your nose, “shut up.”

He chuckles at that, pulling down your underwear next as he settles on his stomach. Deft digits massaging into the opposite thigh of the one his cheek now rests on, playfully blowing cool breath onto your exposed sex. Fixing you with a hungry gaze as you prop yourself onto your forearms, thighs trembling with the urge to bring your knees together.

Dabi gives a lazy grin, leaning close with a slow blink and you can feel his breath fan over you, “make me.” Only able to choke on a surprised squeak when he places a kiss to your throbbing bud before his lips wrap around it. Sucking gingerly as a tease until your head lolls back with a breathy sigh.

Goading him to turn it into a long moan like he’s desired. Flicking the sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue before dropping his jaw to suck at your cunt fully. Splitting your folds with his tongue as your thighs clamp around his head, the vibrations of his low hum sending shocks of electricity up your spine and overwhelming your senses quickly. The cool feel of his staples bite into the fat of your inner thigh, adding a contrastingly delightful feel to his treatment. Fanning the flames into an inferno in your veins as your hips start to roll into his face.

Calling his name in quick babbles before long, bringing your hand over your mouth in an attempt to quiet the sweet moans only for Dabi to grab at your wrist. Glaring at you over your mound as he sucks harshly at your clit in warning, forcing your lips apart in a throaty moan at the feel.

It’s when you feel his fingers tease at your entrance, prod carefully at the tight ring before slipping his ring finger in to the first knuckle that you cum for the first time. Making Dabi groan himself, eyes rolling as he continues to push into your fluttering hole. Pressing up into the velvet walls so your hips buck harshly into his mouth and out of sync with the laps of his tongue until his long digit is buried to the last knuckle.

Arching when you feel his index added just as slowly, squeezing his head again with a whimper as he scissors his fingers and twists his wrist. Drinking in the sweet taste of your cunt, your juices dribbling down his chin by the second time he brings you to release. Leaning up to push at his head, nails scratching delicately at his scalp, “Dabi, please.”

Begging for mercy or more, neither of your are sure but you’re exhausted from his treatment for certain.

“I hear ya, baby,” his voice a deeper timber, kissing your clit as he rises from between your thighs. You fall flat onto your back, chest slightly heaving as you rest. Peeking with a tilt of your head when you head the clinking of his belt buckle, watching intently as his thumbs dip into the waistband of his boxerbriefs after he’s unzipped and unbuttoned his pants.

“Enjoying the show?” Dabi tuts playfully, angling his jaw as he slips the loose material of his jeans to pool around his knees first. Dipping down and taking your lips in a kiss, letting his tongue caress yours to give you a full taste of yourself on him as he frees himself of his bottoms completely. Kicking away the jeans with a noisy clatter from his chunky belt and leaving them in a heap.

His hand slips between your bodies, grasping his shaft as his thumb spreads the beading pre from his weeping slit. Pumping languidly before aligning himself with your slit, rutting to coat himself in your wetness with a pleased hiss.

Dabi can feel you tense beneath him, gripping at his upper arm despite how you try and calm yourself. He’s confident in how he’s prepped you, you’re certain he’d take care of you.

But the repeated reassurance is welcomed, appreciated, “relax. I’ve got you.” Whispered between peppered kisses more than once.

“I know you do,” you respond quietly, letting your arms loop around his neck when you feel the fat tip prod at your still fluttering entrance. He kisses you more insistently as he presses forward, lips hard against yours as he distracts you from the initial stretch. Rutting his hips short and slowly to have you adjust to the size but he does well in having you focus on the pull of your hair. The scrape of his nails carefully at your scalp, teeth tugging at your bottom lip before he’s bottomed out in you.

Unable to withhold the relieved groan at the snug fit, at the way your walls squeeze and pulse around his cock and you’re glad for it. It makes your heart soar that you feel as good for him as he does for you. You both share the thought, it means more than simply physically but that’s something for later on down the road.

Dabi’s thighs tremble after a long moment, waiting for you to give him permission to please the both of you with bated breath. Kissing at your jaw and throat, nipping at your earlobe with his hands firmly holding your hips when you pull your hips back testingly. Not moving very far with the way his weight pushes you into the floor but it’s enough to make him hiss.

You repeat the motion and Dabi mirrors you but with an obviously experienced angle. Exhaling a shaky breath while you moan long and sweet into his ears before he sets his pace. Slow at first until you begin to meet his thrusts, your legs wrapping around his hips to push your heel into the back of his thigh. “More Dabi, more.”

And he’s always been a man eager to please, hastening the rut of his hips until each clap of skin is interrupting a moan instead of punctuating it.

"Are...you ok? Is this pace good enough?" Panting with his effort and through the pleasure he feels, a lazy grin spreading on his lips as you nod emphatically while you clutch to him.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop baby please,” gasped and pitchy, music to his heats, his sac tightening with his impending climax.

The hand that’s rested firmly on your hip now pushes you into each thrust now as you build to you both build to blissful rapture, singing his name in a sinful hymn. One Dabi finds he’ll fall to his knees for often to hear if you’ll let him. Spilling into you after his finally pointed thrust tips you over the edge, squeezing him tightly as your cunt pulses in time with the waves of euphoria that wash over you.

Dabi thrusts into you lazily, hips slowing to a halt while he sighs in relief. Tacky with sweat and the room feels warm from the coupling but he still wants to be close to you. Withdrawing his spent cock from you and chuckling when a small whimper sounds in your throat as if you weren’t twitching with each of his final rolls a moment prior.

He leans back in his haunches as you untangle yourself from him. Lying on your back as Dabi massaged his thumbs into your hips to soothe any soreness.

“Feeling alright baby?” He asks even as he watches how the tension leaves your features before you nod to him with a pretty sigh and a tired smile on your lips.

Head lolling to the side to watch him as his hands move to your thighs. Repeating the action idly to both appendages before he moves to get dressed. Gathering your clothes and then his own, lying on his side next to you after only slipping on his underwear. Reaching for your phone when you scoot closer to tuck into his chest.

Lying quietly with him as he mindlessly scrolls through your socials with his free hand drawing indistinguishable patterns into your back. Wondering to yourself how a great guy like himself could ever think he’s bad for you.

#vixen drabbles #dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi smut #touya x reader #touya x you #touya smut #touya todoroki smut #touya todoroki x reader

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purgemarchlockdown · 24 days

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Yoh know, I was planning on doing this at the end of the week. Just to really make sure the month long break was month long and to confirm I really did want to return, but damn the state of the tag in the last month or two is so sad and I have a hunch as to why.

So, hi again Milgramblr! I’m Nott! I’m an enjoyer of analysis and a believer that it’s a collaborative experience where people with various opinions and come together and discuss topics!

“Nott why are you saying this, statistically speaking, we already knew this about you?” Oh cause I experienced harrasement and outright got lied to multiple times lol.

I’m just saying it because I might as well, it’s pretty obvious something happened. I don’t like saying names publically, especially when I don’t plan on ever talking about this afterwards unless they engage which…well their blocked so I hope not. But I’m using this as a jumping off point for the actual topic of discussion.

Again, part of my enjoyment of analysis comes from collaboration, and as much as I love sending giant walls of texts to friends I enjoy seeing discussion from people I don’t know too well or maybe even not at all.

I think it’s important to create spaces in which analysis without fear of being executed in the middle of town square. It’s good to have more people working togehter in good faith to enjoy something, obviously, and the only real way of doing so is to…let people’s analysis be shared and discussed.

So! I’m turning my return post into a CALL FOR ANALYSIS YEAH! I HAVE BEEN GONE FOR A MONTH! TELL ME YOUR COOL OPINIONS EITHER HERE OR IN MY ASKBOX! I am holding my paws out like furry Oliver Twist going “Please, may I please have more analysis.” The intermission is the perfect time to discuss the information we have been provided!

On stuff I’ve been mulling over: I’ve been doing my usual narrative analysis and uh…attempting to write the monster theory analysis and then Not. Plus some other fun stuff you might see soon from me! Hope you enjoy what I got thought up!

#milgram #YEAH FUCKERS YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD KILL NE #HA #HAHAHAHA

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fafnir19 · 3 months

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Soccer – A life-changing game

I'm Lenny and I would like to tell my story about how I wanted to realize my dream of becoming a successful soccer player:

I was thrilled when I first stepped onto the field, ready to train with my new soccer team. It was like a dream come true, being handpicked to join the best young players from all the city's clubs. I couldn't contain my excitement as Mr. Hardwork, our trainer, introduced himself with a booming voice and a firm handshake. He was no-nonsense but had a way of making the training fun. As I looked around at my new teammates, I couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie. They were a good bunch, even if we were all from different clubs. We were here for one purpose - to become the best team in the city. We trained for weeks, each practice bringing new challenges and opportunities to bond as a team. But despite our individual skills, we all struggled to sync up on the field. Each game felt like a battle of egos, with everyone wanting to be the star. Mr. Hardwork could sense the growing frustration and addressed it head-on one day. "We're not just a group of individuals, boys. We need to function as a unit, a well-oiled machine," he said, his voice carrying authority and wisdom. "To truly become a team, we need to look and feel like one. That's why I've struck a deal with Beaucon. They'll be our sponsors and provide us with top-notch fashion to show the world that we belong together." I was surprised by the idea but willing to give it a shot. A few days later, Amy, Beaucon's marketing director, arrived with bags of the most elegant men's clothing I'd ever seen. As we put on the coordinated outfits, we felt like a different kind of team - sophisticated, united, and ready to conquer the field.

And conquer we did. With our newfound sense of unity emanating from the stylish Beaucon clothing, we started playing at a level we never thought possible. Victory after victory, our success seemed unstoppable. The team spirit was high, and the mood was jubilant. But soon, I noticed a shift in the fashion choices Amy brought for us. The clothes were becoming more form-fitting, hugging our bodies in a way that made me slightly uncomfortable. When I mustered the courage to ask her about it, I was taken aback by her response. "My customer analysis indicates that the gay clientele enjoys this kind of fashion," Amy said matter-of-factly. "And they're the most lucrative market for Beaucon. I've picked these outfits to cater to their tastes."

At first, my teammates and I were puzzled and uncertain about this development. But when Amy sweetened the deal with a share of the sales, our doubts quickly dissipated. The prospect of extra income was enticing, and soon enough, we were parading around in the form-fitting attire without a second thought. As the sales soared, Mr. Hardwork proposed a month-long training camp to prepare for the final match. But the obstacle of finances threatened to derail our plans. It was then that Amy made a surprising suggestion - one that left us dumbfounded. "Sales tend to rise if you display a bit more affection towards each other in public. A touch here, a caress there," she explained with a knowing smile. "It's all part of appealing to our target market. The gay clientele appreciates such displays when coupled with our clothing." We were initially taken aback by the idea, but the allure of quick cash won us over. Before we knew it, our seemingly innocent touches had escalated into something more, and our public interactions began to resemble flirtatious exchanges.

It was bizarre at first, but the resulting spike in sales was undeniable. Before long, it had become routine for us to engage in intimate gestures in public, all under the guise of increasing sales. What had started as minor touches had evolved into embraces, playful grabs of each other's crotch, and even passionate kisses.

And to our astonishment, the sales responded with a resounding surge. As we gathered the funds for our training camp, we were elated at the realization that the plan was working. And so, we embarked on our journey to the luxurious villa, our minds ablaze with anticipation and our pockets heavy with the spoils of our unconventional efforts. It seemed like nothing could thwart our path to glory.

The luxurious villa where we stayed during the training camp was a sight to behold. Its grandeur was matched only by the excitement pulsing through our veins as we prepared for the upcoming tournament.

The stakes were high, and with our newfound unity and skill, we were determined to emerge victorious. The days leading up to the tournament were filled with rigorous training sessions, tactical discussions, and moments of bonding among teammates. We were a cohesive unit both on and off the field, celebrating each small victory and supporting one another through every setback.

As the sun set behind the grandiose villa, our team couldn't contain the giddy excitement that bubbled within us. We had just won a big soccer tournament. The air was filled with the jubilant laughter and animated chatter of my teammates as we celebrated our victory. The opulence of the villa, combined with the elation of our triumph, invoked an ambiance of sheer exuberance. "Dang, this place is fancier than I thought it'd be. I feel like a friggin' prince or something," exclaimed Dave, his voice tinged with awe as he glanced around the lavish surroundings, taking in every minute detail of the opulent decor. "Right? And we totally deserve it after that epic win!" chimed in Mark, his enthusiasm infectious as he clapped a hand on my shoulder in camaraderie. "I can already feel the vibe for a celebration building up inside me!" The night progressed, and the cocktail of endorphins, alcohol, and unrestrained hormones fueled our giddy spirits, paving the way for unexpected developments. The lines between comradeship and something more became pleasantly blurred. The joy of our success seemed to ignite something primal and spontaneous within us. "Huh, who would've thought we'd ever end up making out with each other, eh? But it feels right, you know?" mused Alex, his eyes reflecting a sense of unexpected revelation as he peered thoughtfully at the assorted group of teammates who were locked in tender embraces around the extravagantly adorned room. "Yeah, I mean, I never would've guessed this is how we'd be celebrating, but let's be real, it's kinda amazing," Ryan added with a chuckle, a newfound sense of closeness evident in his relaxed demeanor. In the midst of the revelry, I found myself drawn to a fellow teammate, our eyes locking in a moment of unspoken understanding. With an exchange of bashful but expectant glances, our tentative touches kindled an inexplicable fire.

The warm, luxurious ambiance of the villa became an accomplice to the influx of intimate gestures that filled the air. It was as if the very fabric of the villa itself was complicit in encouraging our newfound boldness. "Whoa, I... I never thought I'd feel so comfortable like this, you know? But it's like we've found a whole new level of connection," confessed Ethan, his voice tinted with a newfound vulnerability yet a sense of unshakeable contentment as he shared a tentative embrace with another teammate. That night, after the initial hesitancy dissipated, my teammates and I took a step into the unknown. Admissions of enjoyment echoed through the silent corridors and bedrooms, resounding like joyful proclamations of newfound freedom and acceptance. It was intoxicating, thrilling, and above all, liberating. Each caress, each kiss became a testament to our unrestrained passion and the newfound depth of our camaraderie. As conversation grew quieter and the night grew darker, the followers of the moon, we reveled in each other's company, finding solace and assurance in our newfound bond. With the darkness as our canopy, we reveled in the newfound facets of our companionship, entangled in a web of warmth and acceptance. "The way we're all feeling right now, it's like we've found something incredibly special. A bond that's beyond just being teammates, you know?" mused Tom, his voice laced with newfound fervor as he savored the unfolding moments of unexpected intimacy.

The following morning brought with it a fragile sense of uncertainty, as if we had collectively dared to venture beyond the boundaries of convention and now questioned the consequences of our actions. Yet, with a mixture of trepidation and exhilaration, we confided in one another, unveiling our shared experiences of the previous night. As each teammate bared their soul, an unspoken realization dawned upon us – an understanding that what we had shared was not merely a passing dalliance but an uncharted terrain of undeniable attraction. The very teammates with whom I had shared the field had become the anchors of solace and affection, the confidants of unspoken desires. Indeed, our interactions had transcended the realm of mere teammates; we had become something more, a cohort bound by affection that had blossomed amidst the intensity of competition. It was a revelation that left me both bewildered and undeniably stirred, for it was a truth that had emerged quietly yet resolutely. As we grappled with the evolving dynamics within the team, the tournament loomed before us, presenting an opportunity to put our newfound unity and skill to the test.

The bright stadium lights illuminated the expansive field as we, the formidable team from the city, stepped onto the grass, confident of imminent victory. Alas, fate had other plans for us, as the soccer gods cruelly deemed us unworthy and eliminated us from the competition in the preliminary round. Our hearts weighed heavy with defeat, a looming shadow cast over our spirits.

"Boys, we have a duty to attend the Beaucon party tonight," Mr. Hardwork reminded us. Reluctantly, we exchanged glances, acknowledging our commitment to our sponsor despite the overwhelming disappointment that shrouded us. As we arrived at the lavish party, the atmosphere was vibrant and pulsating with energy.

Amidst the sea of guests adorned in Beaucon's finest, a striking figure stood out. His name was Miles, a man of undeniable charm and allure. He approached me, sensing the despondency that clouded my countenance, and offered solace in his comforting embrace. "Hey there, Lenny. I couldn't help but notice the despondency etched on your face. Let me offer you some comfort," Miles said as he drew me into his comforting embrace. A warmth spread through me as he tenderly stroked my cheek, his touch a fleeting respite from the bitter taste of defeat. Before I could comprehend the turn of events, I found myself enveloped in an air of opulence, lying in Miles' bed as he bestowed upon me a potent gift of intimacy, forever altering the course of my destiny.

"You're a natural, Lenny. I can see a bright future for you," Miles murmured, his words carrying a sense of assurance that both comforted and perplexed me.

Little did I know, my teammates were also surrendering to a similar fate, each becoming a trophy boy in their own right, ensnared by the captivating allure of the rich and powerful clients of Beaucon. In the wake of these unforeseen events, a shocking revelation dawned upon us—a twist of fate that rendered us speechless. Mr. Hardwork, the very mentor we trusted and revered, had orchestrated our transformation into gay trophy boys, a fate far removed from our aspirations of professional soccer glory. "I told you that I would manage to train the boys to be gay trophy boys," Mr. Hardwork declared triumphantly to Amy. "At least that way they have a promising future - they certainly didn't have what it takes to be professional soccer players!" Amy, the enigmatic figure behind Beaucon's machinations, approached us with veiled congratulations, delivering the sobering truth of our newfound destinies: "Congratulation boys, you have become perfect gay Beaucon- boys! I guess you are all interested in a modeling job with Beaucon, right!" she announced, her words hanging heavily in the air as we grappled with the sudden enormity of our transformation.

A modeling job with Beaucon, a life not of soccer prowess, but of glamorous allure and tantalizing mystique. Amidst the tumult of emotions that surged within us, one thing became undeniably clear: we were no longer mere soccer players, but unwitting participants in a subversive scheme. Our identities as athletes had been overshadowed by our new reality, one that beckoned us into a world of seductive charm and enigmatic allure, urging us to embrace our new roles with unyielding acceptance. So the humble soccer team had changed irrevocably, our pursuit of athletic prowess extinguished and replaced by the allure of a future of opulence and enigmatic allure. As we looked at each other, the truth that had been missing became starkly clear: we were no longer soccer players, but objects of desire - veritable trophy boys for wealthy Beaucon clients!

And me, Lenny? I'm now one of Beaucon's gay poster boys, living with Miles as his docile trophy boy.

#personality change #straight to gay #subconscious #soccer tf #mind corruption

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poetrysmackdown · 5 months

Text

some informal thoughts

hello! hope the holiday season has been kind to all of you. and i hope all my jewish followers had a lovely hanukkah! anyways, since i said a few months ago that i’d pick poetry smackdown back up sometime around this time of year, i thought i should make a post. the gist of it is that i’m still quite busy, i have a break that’s about three weeks shorter than I was planning on, and i don’t currently have the mental bandwidth required to read, contemplate, and sort through poem submissions in a way that does justice to them, even if i were to recruit some friends to help out. since running a tournament format requires at least five weeks of continued engagement once it’s underway, and since i’m not at capacity to offer that right now due to the change in my schedule, i’m gonna have to bow out for now. sad bc i was looking forward to it!

my hope is that i’ll have some more time over the summer to hunker down with it, in which case you’ll be hearing from me. it’ll frankly depend on the kind of job i land in for the summer, but i find that my unemployed spirit can typically keep me doing stupid shit regardless of workload...to a point. i don’t want to make any promises because i don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up just to let them down again LOL. i do admit the amount of exposure the first tournament got has made me feel like more of a perfectionist this time around, doubly because i don’t feel that i’m very suited to being a public online presence (even a relatively quite small one)—i’m bad enough at responding to emails for my own real life responsibilities, let alone tumblr asks for the silly responsibilities i invent for myself lol. that’s not to say i no longer want to do it, or i don’t enjoy it, or even that i don’t feel capable of making a really interesting bracket—just that if i am working to put something new together, and if people are taking the time to submit poems they care about, then i don’t want to half-ass it.

my second admission is something like this. I made the original bracket as a celebration of poetry and our relationships to it. yes it was silly and competitive, and the poems were very tumblr, but still, celebration was the intention—I wanted to have conversations about poetry. I stand by the bracket format as a fun and valuable way to foster conversations about poetry, but truthfully, the poems i’m wanting to have conversations about right now—the poems that we should be talking about right now—are ones that i'm not comfortable putting in a bracket. I reblogged The Baffler’s Poems from Palestine collection on here earlier, and Najwan Darwish’s “Who Remembers The Armenians?”, which I still often find repeating through my head when I'm traveling from one place to another, walking home or riding the bus. I came across this beautiful thread recently where people have been translating Dr. Refaat Alareer’s “If I Must Die” into their own languages (this just makes my translator's heart sing!!!!!!). @havingapoemwithyou has been posting some great poems from and for Palestine as well—check out their tag here.

There's always more to add, and I'll be posting more on here as I come across it, but that's what I feel anyone should be focusing on right now when it comes to poetry. i think poetry can be an escape but it should never be a distraction. does that make sense? i wouldn't be against doing a one-off poll here or there, but it feels weird to be making a tournament for poetry right now, or anytime soon. i feel like what free time i have right now is still best utilized helping my friends with organizing in the real world. and god, a bit off-topic but while I'm talking, fuck poetry foundation—I have so much respect for all the poets keeping up the boycott, because while i think it's a simple decision, it's not always an easy one (Aurielle Lucier discussed that here).

anyways, if you read all of this, thank you for your time!! I could go on and on, but really this was just meant to be a message telling y'all that there won't be another tournament for a while lol. even so i'll be trying to use this small silly platform as best i can until palestine is free because that's the absolute least i can do.

#not a poll #also i'm closing my ask box for now because i know i don't have the bandwidth to answer anything rn. sorry :(#but feel free to reply here with your thoughts and any resources and i'll do my best to respond #or even messages might be fine. something about the ask format just gives me anxiety sometimes lmao #cannot stress this enough i am so so so bad at responding to things #even when i want to or enjoy doing it

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mazeinthemiroh · 2 years

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hey !! can u write something like ‘hot things atz does in a relationship’ ?? hope you are doing well stay safe 💗

hot things ateez do in a relationship

genre: romance, suggestive

word count: 1.2k

warnings: suggestive, some are much more tamer than others. writing mingi's made me rethink my life decisions anyways <3

author's notes: ateez is a group of 8 hotties. that's all i wanted to say. hope you enjoy!

hongjoong

looks deep into your eyes. hongjoong is big on eye contact. it's so easy for people to figure out who he has fallen for because he always looks so involved and engaged in the things you say. it's attractive how much attention he gives you, and how he singles you out every time, like it's just you and him and no one else. his eyes stare deep into yours like he's trying to figure you out. like he's trying to read your thoughts, analyse your gaze, touch your heart. a mischievous sparkle glimmering within his eyes as he lets his mind wander into secret thoughts of his own. and his eyes are so hypnotising. you find your heart beats quicker when he stares into your soul, devouring you with just one look. it doesn't help when he teases you, perhaps maintaining eye contact whilst licking or biting his lip, giving you a little wink. it's almost embarrassing how much power he has on you; how much effect he has on you.

seonghwa

grabs your chin when he kisses you. seonghwa is the type of boyfriend to be sweet, soft, gentle. he touches you with feather-like touches, and his kisses are light and delicate. but not always. there are times when he wants more. when he becomes needy, desperate to feel you, there's not a lot that can hold him back. you can just tell by his attitude; the atmosphere feels cooler, heavier. he looks at you through lidded, lustful eyes. his gaze alone is enough to make you gulp. he will make a beeline to you and grasp your chin in his hand, with both assertion and elegance. a thumb is brought up to run over your bottom lip as he looks deep into your wide eyes. it never feels to catch you off guard how graceful and yet totally, utterly hot he can be. tilting your head up to look at him before placing his lips firmly on yours, closing the gap between you.

yunho

leans over to whisper to you. usually in formal/public events, or when you have people around. yunho can get bored depending on the environment around him. if you guys are guests at a wedding, for instance, and you have to sit through boring speeches, yunho wants to make his own fun. he loves making jokes in inappropriate situations because he knows you can barely hold your laugh in. or he starts gossiping when in a hushed voice to you and you alone. there's something about the way he leans over to whisper to you. you can't help but be a little flustered. from this angle you can smell his cologne, admire his features up close, feel his breath tickle your ear as he shuffles closer to you. he notices the way you blush when he does this, which gives him a bigger incentive to continue. you catch a glint of the mischievous sparkle in his eyes and his ever-growing grin as he watches you stifle a chuckle. how can someone be so hilarious and yet so hot?

yeosang

leaves you voice messages. this usually happens when he is away, perhaps on tour, or any time he is apart from you. this comes as a surprise to you. he isn't usually one to voice messages; he can get shy and flustered when talking, even when in a relationship with you. because of this, he usually prefers texting. but that's why it's so surprising and attractive when he decides to send voice notes to you. in the mornings and in the evenings, he will consistently greet you with voice messages. his morning voice is croaky, deeper than usual, making his voice sound incredibly attractive. he might mumble a 'good morning jagi, think of me today~' or something along those lines. and in the evenings? he will practically whisper how much he's been thinking about you, how he can't wait to have you in his arms again, his words practically sending shivers down your spine. your feel so close to him despite being so far away.

san

uses his words. his big on words of affirmation. he's very in touch with his feelings and is able to articulate them into sentences that make you swoon. it's amazing how he manages to find something to compliment you on every single time. when he feels particularly passionate, he won't hold back. "you look so ravishing in that outfit", "you have no idea how you make me feel when you look at me like that", "if you keep up looking this gorgeous, we might not make it to dinner at all." he's not exactly subtle. he will start telling you the wild thoughts running through his head, even in public. he knows what to say to catch you off guard. make you blush and squirm in your seat. then he will smile at you innocently as if he hasn't just got you all riled up.

mingi

chuckles when he kisses you. gosh. mingi is so passionate when he kisses you. depending on how he wants to kiss you, sometimes he will look at you with eyes full of such adoration before glancing down at your lips, his own pulling upwards into a little grin. he wants you. and as he sinks his lips onto yours, moulding them perfect with his movements, he can't help but smirk, maybe even chuckle into the kiss. he does this when he realises he's so down bad. that he has fallen for you. would do anything for you. of course, a messy make-out session is the only way to go from here. you just drive him crazy he almost doesn't know what to do with himself. so he may let out a breathy laugh in between open-mouthed kisses. and it sends lightning bolts through your body because, you know this is the lead-up to something heated. something raw. something fiery.

wooyoung

always touches you. he's not a clingy person. he doesn't have this overwhelming, suffocating feeling to be with you and near you at all times because he is content with himself either way. but when he is with you, he can't help himself. he just has to be touching you in some way. a hand on your thigh, or an arm wrapped around your shoulder, or a finger lacing through your own. it's something he doesn't know he's doing. it's an unconscious habit. if you were to call him out on it, he would say "no i don't touch you all the time" before realising that he does indeed. but it's hot, you love it. it feels like a reassurance; a protection. feeling his presence always there and giving the visual to others that you are his. your heart swooned at the thought.

jongho

looks out for you. jongho is quite a low-key, chill guy, but there is a part of him that is naturally protective. he finds himself wondering how you are, if you got home safe, if you need him. expect a message from him asking if you got home safe. and don't be surprised if you are walking with him and he guides you gently to the safer side of the path, away from the road. when you comment on his gallant behaviour he will shrug it off and say it's nothing. if you're at a party and you're getting an uncomfortable amount of attention from a guy, he will wrap an arm around you and make it painfully obvious that you are, in fact, his. his assertiveness and protectiveness makes you fall for him all over again.

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tenderfxck · 1 year

Note

I need more alhaitham fics in ur writing plz god…. bully him bully him bully him public teasing which makes him very flustered??.? I’m just ranting at this point anws love ur writing ✍️

al haitham//distraction from argument//gn!reader//18+

contents: flustered!al haitham, pent up!al haitham, gn!reader, exhibitionism, handjob, alcohol mention, drinking, al haitham being put in his place <3

word count: 2.3k

notes: i've been itching to write another fic where i get to tease haitham. enjoy <333 (and thanks to @bobaboob for listening to my crazed ramblings as well as beta reading this fic!)

it’s a warm summer night at lambad's tavern and you find yourself seated in a booth in between the two arguably brightest minds of recent akademia history.

well, they were supposed to be bright. but even with you in their presence, they weren’t courteous enough to keep their bickering to themselves.

to your right sat the great architect and your best friend, kaveh. both of you were kind souls who bonded over the more beautiful things in life (as well as kept each other up to date with all the drama in sumeru city. so what if the two of you were gossips?)

and on your left sat the grand scribe, al haitham. you and al haitham were-

well. . .

enemies? rivals? annoyances to each other?

ah, yes. let’s settle on that. any more analysis would call into question if each tense moment the two of you had shared in passing was just animosity or something more. . .

at this point, you think they were hashing it out over some household chores or some other domestic affair. who ever thought those two could ever be roommates?

while sitting between two grown men arguing like a married couple is usually great entertainment, today you were quite over it. and quite bored.

but this was a bar, wasn’t it? you chose to focus your attention on polishing off your own drink as they continued this little disagreement of theirs. and when your glass was empty, you pivoted to sneaking sips from their neglected drinks.

well, until al haitham shooed you from his glass. of course. he was oblivious enough to (rudely) ignore you for the last fifteen minutes but yet he was keenly aware of you emptying his drink. damn scribe. . .

you sighed. you had completely lost the plot of this little spat a few minutes ago and had no patience to dare decipher where in the hell it had led. resigned to your fate stuck between the two, you pick up the bottle of liquor sitting in the middle of the table, planning to drown your boredom in another stiff drink.

"-and that's why you're being completely irrational." al haitham stated bluntly, pushing his freshly polished off drink towards you.

"i'm being irrational?" kaveh scoffed, pushing his empty glass towards you as well. "have you even been listening to yourself?"

they hold a tense stare for a few seconds, before whipping their heads to face you.

"who do you think is right?" they snap in union.

"i think you both need a drink." you sigh, tipping the bottle and filling both their glasses with a healthy dose of liquor.

. . .

this had continued for a while. bicker, bicker, fill their glasses, bicker, bicker, more shots, so on, so forth.

you still had no idea what they were arguing about, but it proved a LOT more fun to watch them keep at it all the while becoming more and more intoxicated.

al haitham’s never been much of a drinker. even in his akademy years when some students chose to let loose on the weekends, he preferred to stay in, instead engaging himself with a good book. only a few drinks in and he can feel the flush cross his features. kaveh wasn't faring much better, definitely slurring his words and swaying ever so slightly.

“what do you think?" kaveh slumps against you, resting his weight on your shoulder in hopes of keeping himself steady. "you can't possibly think haitham’s being reasonable.”

“nonsense, my point is perfectly just.” al haitham sits back against the booth and crosses his arms.

they both looked at you expectantly, equally sure that you'd come to each of their aid.

"i think kaveh is making more sense."

watching al haitham's face drop was priceless. granted, you had zero idea what you were even agreeing with kaveh on. but the look of disbelief that al haitham made no effort to suppress confirms your suspicion he's typically used to most (other than his hard-headed roommate) agreeing with him at the drop of a hat.

"you're not even affiliated with the akademia," he bit back after collecting himself once again. "and your thoughts on such matters are inconsequential." al haitham goes to take another swig but finds his glass empty yet again, dropping it back onto the table with little grace before he regards you and kaveh with a certain distaste in his voice. "you artsy types love to have an opinion on everything, don't you?"

you place a hand to your chest in fake offense, unable to suppress a teasing smile. "inconsequential? a well-rounded person should recognize that relying purely on a scholarly view of the world is a detrimental one."

. . .fuck. al haitham was normally weary of rousing you but he mistakenly dug himself this grave. he cursed the alcohol for making him so careless.

"i have opinions on the akademia's actions just as i have opinions on the importance of the arts. what about you, grand scribe?"

"what?" he stiffens in his seat. when did this become a discussion about him?

"what are your view on accessibility of the arts? recognition and comprehension among citizens?" kaveh covers his mouth, poorly hiding his giggles as you laid into the increasingly tense scribe. "what about you, haitham? do you think the akademia is properly instructed in artistic literacy?"

al haitham had a sharp intellect. but not as sharp as your wit.

"I, uh. . . w-well. . ."

“so you have no opinion." you let a devious smile tug at your lips, addressing al haitham with a look of faux pity. "how disappointing. to think the akademia holds you in such high regard and yet you have neglected such a large area of expertise.”

this always seemed to be an ace in the hole for you. using whatever rhetoric he attempts to argue and your gilded tongue to throw it right back at him.

“when your pride allows you to be open to a conversation outside of your area of expertise, let me know. maybe we can have a more stimulating conversation.” you spit, taking up your glass of liquor once again.

“stop that.” al haitham huffs.

“stop what?”

“that. that- thing you always do.”

“eloquent as ever.” you sigh. kaveh snickers behind your other shoulder, and al haitham responds by staring daggers right over the other at him. “haitham, you have to be more clear.”

he grunts in frustration, turning away from the two of you. you were truly skilled at this feigned innocence. the kind that taunted al haitham, just enough to entice him into playing straight into your hand, just to get teased even more. but he chose to keep that observation to himself.

"you purposefully distract me." is what he settles on.

"i distract you? how so?"

“your words. you twist mine and then goad me on purpose.”

“that’s barely a distraction, mr. scribe.” you chuckle, shifting in your seat. al haitham dutifully ignores how you brush against him. “but if it’s truly my words that prove a disturbance to you, i’ll keep quiet. surely you’ll easily best kaveh then, hm?”

“surely.” he bites back.

a self-satified look returns to him as you, as promised, shut up, instead busying yourself with refreshing your drink.

al haitham’s attention was quickly stolen by a fresh jab from kaveh about how “distracted” he could be, falling so easily back into their regular song and dance of bickering. he was once again far too caught up in this spat to notice the look you were giving him over the rim of your glass, an evil plan forming behind your pretty eyes.

when he first felt your hand graze his thigh he barely registered it. you were in close proximity anyway, seated right between him and his debate partner for the night.

the second was harder to ignore, your palm sitting atop his leg and stroking down ever so slowly. he stumbled a bit on his next words, but put it out of his mind to recover just enough to keep laying into kaveh.

it was only when your hand trailed between his thighs, grasping between his legs, rubbing his crotch with feather light dexterity when he became painfully aware of your wandering hands.

he froze, mouth opening and closing as he felt his body temperature climb a degree or two.

"ha! so you really have nothing left to say." kaveh gloated, a smug expression crossing his features.

"like hell, you still- ggh!" you squeezed a little firmer this time, feeling his cock stir beneath your touch. you could see how his chest now began to noticeably rise and fall, no doubt his heart beating ever so quicker with how you stroked his hardening length. you licked your lips, savoring each little reaction you pulled from him, made all the more sweet with how he tries so desperately to hide them.

"that doesn't sound like a rebuttal to me, haitham." kaveh laughs, grasping his glass to take a celebratory swig.

al haitham grits his teeth. his attention is divided between his unshakable urge to one-up kaveh, and the slow, purposeful drag of your fingers under the table. the fabric of his pants starts to tent under your hand, al haitham grunting at the now suffocating tightness of them.

he swallows, takes a deep breath, and dissects kaveh’s last few points with precision. albeit, a little more breathlessly than usual.

so this was your game. If you couldn’t distract him with words. . .

a soft palm reaching down his pants causes haitham to jerk so hard he almost knocks over his glass.

. . .you seemed to have other means.

you were kind enough to rid him of his binding clothes after a few excruciating minutes of teasing caresses, dragging his cock out of his restrictive pants and exposing it to the cool air of the tavern.

he worried his lower lip as you paid special attention to his now throbbing cock, tilting his head back in a sigh as you grabbed him again, now stroking him earnestly.

he sits there, still attempting to argue with his roommate. truly trying to act like everything is fine. but his heart is thumping in his chest so intensely you swear you can feel it as well. he tries to take deep, steadying breaths, but it feels like every time he opens his mouth he has to close it immediately, or else a shuddering noise will escape his trembling lips.

archons, does it feel so good watch him crumble.

you pump him under the table at a steady pace, paying oh so close attention to every sharp inhale and every twitch of his body as he melts in your hands. you only slow when he seems like he’s about to burst at the seams, instead choosing to stroke his inner thighs with teasingly light touches or fondle his heavy balls. and at any moment it seems like he’s regained an iota of composure, wondering if he can still best you, you take a thumb to his sensitive tip, grinding intense little circles into the head of his cock sending such cute little tremors through his whole body.

kaveh takes a glance at his squirming roommate, noticing that al haitham is white knuckling the table as their bickering goes on. he takes satisfaction in the knowledge he's stirred haitham up so much, but only you truly know why.

it builds and builds, threatening to careen off that edge of restraint al haitham keeps himself bound to so diligently.

he tries to ignore the obvious. but his mind cant help but flash back to last night when he was fucking his fist, imagining it was your hand teasing him so. and now it’s happening, for real, all right in front of him and all of the bar's patrons if they paid any closer attention to the writhing scribe.

al haitham never stood a chance.

“haitham~” you breathe out, so close that it tickles the shell of his ear. he attempts to bite his lip to content the whine that would otherwise escape. “why don't you admit that kaveh has a point? then this whole affair can be finished.” you whisper that last word, giving him an especially drawn out stroke to his twitching length, clearly conveying your intent.

“f-fine.” al haitham stutters, now slumped against the table in front of him, praying it will give him even just a little support. “you’re right. . .” he heaves, unconcerned about his stupid pride. he doesn't care about winning any more. “you’re right!” his voice pitches, feeling your fleeting touches turn steady and fast, pumping his aching cock so fucking good as he finally concedes. “i’m wrong, just- just!”

he gasps, finally, finally cumming after what felt like hours of teasing. your hand remains firm, stroking him through it while the scribe crumbles in on himself, twitching and biting back moans. he’s sure his release was so intense it hit the underside of the table. but he doesn’t dare open his eyes to check, certain he’ll meet his roommate's confused expression, or the satisfied one you’re surely wearing.

when he finally does regain enough mental faculties to sit upright again, he can see kaveh across the bar, paying of the tab while happily spouting something about “finally besting that damn bastard.”

his eyes drift up. you’re wearing a sweet, albeit just a bit smug, smile.

“i’m glad you finally came around, mr. scribe.”

kaveh circles back to you, face flushed and cheery as can be. “let’s take this back to our place. The two of us will treat you to a thorough lecture on the arts as a reward for being so humble, haitham”

“you go on ahead, i’ll catch up with you.” kaveh regards him quizzically, but al haitham can only look past him. “i need a moment to. . .” you throw him one last glance before removing yourself from the booth, but not before he can catch you bringing a thumb stained with release to your mouth, licking the last bit of evidence on your person away. he’s reminded of the uncomfortable mess currently staining his abdomen and running slick down his thighs.

“. . .organize my thoughts."

#teasing al haitham: the saga continues #im spreading my best friend kaveh propaganda #al haitham x you #alhaitham x you #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x y/n #alhaitham x y/n #al haitham smut #alhaitham smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #tender library

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