#<- you can really see my priorities here
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lixenn · 6 months ago
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Woke up an hour ago because I forgot to turn of my alarm. So even though I want to bed kinda early for me I'm still wiped.
Today is the actual departure and though I finished packing and therefore won't need to worry about that I'm so tired and I feel unwell again. But I literally booked the correct train yesterday and I refuse to waste this much money. So holiday here I come!
The only upside is seeing my friends again but I can't seem to gather any excitement for it.
Just.
I'm tired
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one4sorrow · 1 year ago
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Ngl, I'm trying my best but I'm fucking nervous about this weekend's hearing
I haven't talked to my mom except over the phone since maybe last week, and its really stressing me out lol
I really don't handle stress well so pray for me cause I don't wanna start crying like a baby in front of the judge again, so fucking embarassing
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neverendingford · 14 days ago
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#tag talk#I hate that my queue is posting so much right now. 25 a day is too many I think. I really wish I were down to 10-15 instead#but I've been living on tumblr so much until work starts so I've been seeing more art so I've been queuing up a ton#so I apologize but that's just how my blog is gonna run until I get busier irl again.#when I get busy living my real life I'll drop down to like 10 a day but until then my queue reflects my time spent here.#idk. it's nice to hit the point when I realize I don't have time to keep up with my dash anymore and I start unfollow lower priority blogs#but for now I'm way more active here until I can transition to finding in person activities#so yeah. deal with it I guess. Lotta new followers who have each followed me for wildly different things.#like.. sorry to all the cute furry art lovers. I'm trying to transition over to more body horror shit.#sorry to the body horror and Hannibal lovers. you still have to put up with cutesy furry art if you wanna stay here.#idk. we all contain multitudes. at least you can trust I won't be reblogging basic bitch meme shit#it's still always gonna be art shit on this blog. that at least has been consistent since 2015#what that art is? Who fucking knows. but it'll always be art in some form or fashion.#or educational shit. some of that too.#idk. my mind is a mess right now and my blog will reflect that. I am what I am. I try and communicate myself honestly and truthfully.#I try. that's the best I can do.#oh oh oh. my brother and I went for a walk along the train tracks and we met a guy trying to drive his car down the alley alongside it#he was stuck because there was a heap of tree trimmings piled in the middle of the alley so we helped him move them.#well. I helped him move them. my brother is a little more skittish than I am and didn't want to get his shoes muddy.#my brother is the kind of person to buy shoe protecting spray (which I didn't even know existed until he bought some this morning)#I don't give a shit. I've gotten concrete and mud and paint on my vans. he's too ocd for that tho.#anyway. poor guy was lost as hell. there's no road connecting to that alley for like.. at least three miles. I checked when we got back home#the trail was clear past the branches though so he got back on the road safely. but damn he was lost as hell.#I love frequenting alleys and bridges and washes because you see such interesting stuff.
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saritawolff · 1 year ago
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Phew. This one took, uh… a bit longer than expected due to other projects both irl and art-wise, but it’s finally here. The long-awaited domestic animal infographic! Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough space to cover every single domestic animal (I’m so sorry, reindeer and koi, my beloveds) but I tried to include as many of the “major ones” as possible.
I made this chart in response to a lot of the misunderstandings I hear concerning domestic animals, so I hope it’s helpful!
Further information I didn’t have any room to add or expand on:
🐈 “Breed” and “species” are not synonyms! Breeds are specific to domesticated animals. A Bengal Tiger is a species of tiger. A Siamese is a breed of domestic cat.
🐀 Different colors are also not what makes a breed. A breed is determined by having genetics that are unique to that breed. So a “bluenose pitbull” is not a different breed from a “rednose pitbull”, but an American Pitbull Terrier is a different breed from an American Bully! Animals that have been domesticated for longer tend to have more seperate breeds as these differing genetics have had time to develop.
🐕 It takes hundreds of generations for an animal to become domesticated. While the “domesticated fox experiment” had interesting results, there were not enough generations involved for the foxes to become truly domesticated and their differences from wild foxes were more due to epigenetics (heritable traits that do not change the DNA sequence but rather activate or deactivate parts of it; owed to the specific circumstances of its parents’ behavior and environment.)
🐎 Wild animals that are raised in human care are not domesticated, but they can be considered “tamed.” This means that they still have all their wild instincts, but are less inclined to attack or be frightened of humans. A wild animal that lives in the wild but near human settlements and is less afraid of humans is considered “habituated.” Tamed and habituated animals are not any less dangerous than wild animals, and should still be treated with the same respect. Foxes, otters, raccoons, servals, caracals, bush babies, opossums, owls, monkeys, alligators, and other wild animals can be tamed or habituated, but they have not undergone hundreds of generations of domestication, so they are not domesticated animals.
🐄 Also, as seen above, these animals have all been domesticated for a reason, be it food, transport, pest control, or otherwise, at a time when less practical options existed. There is no benefit to domesticating other species in the modern day, so if you’ve got a hankering for keeping a wild animal as a pet, instead try to find the domestic equivalent of that wild animal! There are several dog breeds that look and behave like wolves or foxes, pigeons and chickens can make great pet birds and have hundreds of colorful fancy breeds, rats can be just as intelligent and social as a small monkey (and less expensive and dangerous to boot,) and ferrets are pretty darn close to minks and otters! There’s no need to keep a wolf in a house when our ancestors have already spent 20,000+ years to make them house-compatible.
🐖 This was stated in the infographic, but I feel like I must again reiterate that domestic animals do not belong in the wild, and often become invasive when feral. Their genetics have been specifically altered in such a way that they depend on humans for optimal health. We are their habitat. This is why you only really see feral pigeons in cities, and feral cats around settlements. They are specifically adapted to live with humans, so they stay even when unwanted. However, this does not mean they should live in a way that doesn’t put their health and comfort as a top priority! If we are their world, it is our duty to make it as good as possible. Please research any pet you get before bringing them home!
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honey-tongued-devil · 3 months ago
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[Arcane preference]reacting to their s/o calling them husband/wife for the first time
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I’ve finished the first chapter of the long fic about Universe 7 (Anytime it rains). As soon as my second beta reader gives me the okay, I’ll post it. While I wait, I’ve written the first headcanon (out of three I’m definitely planning to write and post in the next few days) and picked up the drawing of Steb I’d left unfinished. I’m slow, as usual, but English isn’t my first language, and I’m juggling a lot of things at once. Enjoy!
socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 | poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster | |Silco +self insert poster 1| | Steb poster | if you want to read the fluff longfic with vander and his happy family + Silco x reader you can find it here! ↠ Masterlist
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Jayce:
-This man is planning to put a ring on your finger as soon as possible, okay? -Between the academy, public appearances, and both theoretical and practical studies, there isn’t a single moment when he’s really in the right mindset to bring up the topic -The worst part is that, deep down, he’s terrified of putting pressure on you -That’s why, the first time he hears you refer to him as “my husband” during a gala with noble families, he almost chokes -He has to gather all his strength not to grab the interlocutor by the shoulders and ask if they also heard you say that word -He’ll try to keep his composure, maybe responding to your remark with, “Yes, exactly. Her husband really did say/do/design that.”
Viktor:
-It’s not a thought he’s ever really entertained; it never crossed his mind -Part of it is that science is his priority, and part of it is that marriage doesn’t seem like something meant for people like him, -The first time you call him “your husband”, that thought suddenly becomes real in his head, and he can’t help but lean against a wall and wait for the other person to leave -“So, I’m your husband now, huh? Mmm… I don’t mind, a bit pretentious, though…” he jokes, making you roll your eyes -Now, more than ever, he has no idea what to do. He’ll give you a bronze ring from a machine he’s building -“Until I can get one worthy of you.”
Ekko:
-Yes -That’s it -The end -Okay, seriously. The idea of being certain that something will last forever is probably his greatest wish -The first time you call him your husband, he doesn’t see it coming -“Wait, you’re married?” -“I was talking about you, Ekko.” -The moment you say it, he points to his chest, you see his lip tremble slightly, and his eyes grow shinier -He won’t stop talking about it for a week, and at least once a day, he’ll ask if you still want to marry him, if you’re sure, if you love him -No rings before S2; the promise is made by drawing something for each other on your masks and clothes -After S2, he still can’t afford a ring, but now that life is more stable, he can start thinking about a more traditional gift, like a piece of jewelry
Vander:
-This man is ravenous for any family role you might offer him—fiancé, father, husband. Anything goes -The first time you call him “husband”, he plays it cool but will seize the first opportunity to return the favor by telling a customer you’re married -As soon as he can, he’ll squeeze your hand, even under the counter -The idea of being married and having a complete family is everything he’s ever wanted -He won’t stop calling you “my beautiful wife/husband” from that moment on.
-You said it first; you can’t take it back. Now you have to get married
Silco (old man):
-This man’s only sin is loving too much, but I’ll save that reflection for another post -Having no ties other than his illegitimate daughter doesn’t make him someone who’s particularly keen on formalities -The first time you call him “your husband” is in front of Sevika, and he slowly turns to look at you, while she slowly turns to look at him -“Did I... miss something?” Sevika asks, but he doesn’t reply, still perplexed, before glancing at her and saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” -He’s relieved but doesn’t show it. He can’t afford to just yet -As soon as he confirms you were serious, your name will be flamboyantly forgotten—he’ll constantly refer to you as “my wife/husband”
Silco (young):
-The man who survives on love -The first time you call him your husband is in front of Vander, and while Vander bursts out laughing, Silco chokes on his drink -“Are you serious?” He’s so happy that his pale iris are completely swallowed by his dilated pupils -He grabs a pen and draws a ring around your finger -To his credit, he works in a mine, so it’s hard to do better than that, but it becomes the goal that keeps him going -Completely focused on family, the future, and anything that sees the two of you together and happy
Steb:
-The first time you call him your husband is at a dinner among enforcer families, and being mute doesn’t stop him from stealing the spotlight -He whips around, blinking slowly with only his third eyelid in a gesture of confusion -When he’s 100% sure he understood what you said, his eyes widen, the small membranes under his eyes flutter madly, and even the barely visible gills near his jaw gasp for a moment -Someone says, “I didn’t know you were married,” and he immediately nods enthusiastically, not giving you time to take it back -Within 48 hours, he’ll have the ring ready
Jinx:
-The first time you call her “your wife”, she freezes -“What did you just call me?” -She’s used to being a little sister, a big sister, a daughter—she’d never thought she could be a wife. Family ties aren’t chosen, but the idea that someone would want her in their life so much they’d marry her feels incredible -“You want to marry me? Really? Why?” -She bursts into tears, and it’ll take at least 24 hours of cuddling in bed to calm her down -After that, she’ll run to her father to announce that she’s now a married woman
Vi:
-She might not be Silco and/or Vander’s blood daughter, but she’s inherited their deep desire for family -From her family’s tragic fate to Vander’s, she’s always seen family as the ultimate aspiration -When you call her “your wife” for the first time, she doesn’t notice right away, but a full minute later, she whirls around to look at you, as if to ask for confirmation -“Say it again.” -“...You need to buy bread?” -“No, all of it.” -“My wife needs to go buy bread.” -“Again.”
-"My... wife?"
-"Again"
Caitlyn:
-Has she thought about it? Yes -Was she planning to act on it? Not exactly -Caitlyn struggles with emotions and feelings, which is why she hesitates and takes her time -But when you first call her “your wife”, her brain completely shuts off—she just stares at you, unable to hear a single word being said -If you or someone else asks her a question, she’ll snap out of it and respond, -“My wife/husband said everything.” Even if it makes no sense as an answer, making you laugh and leaving the other person baffled
Mel:
-Not a single flicker of surprise—the first time you call her “your wife”, she remains completely composed -“So, I’m your wife?” she asks as soon as you’re in private, approaching you like a feline. You can almost hear the purr in her voice -She’s amused but also intrigued by whatever game you’re playing -The idea of marriage is complicated for her—on one hand, it feels like it would limit her freedom to act, while on the other, unresolved family issues seem to devour her at the mere thought of starting a new cycle -She’ll tell you to go ahead, to get married, but she’ll also ask for time -In the meantime, though, she’ll start using the term “husband/wife” with you—she likes the way it rolls off her tongue
Sevika:
-Between the work she does, the environment she lives in, and all the interesting circumstances of her life, marriage has never been on her radar -Not to mention that in Zaun, it’s not exactly a common practice—people just move in together and build families when they can, without much fuss over formalities or bureaucracy -The first time it happens, she’s playing cards with the other goons, and you casually ask if “your wife is winning” -Her first reaction isn’t even hers—it’s the others’. Dustin, the blond goon with the lazy eye, almost starts crying, embarrassing her -Don’t worry, she’ll make you pay for it at home -She won’t ask to formalize anything, but in true Zaunite fashion, she’ll consider you married, plain and simple
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no-144444 · 3 months ago
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sweating- o.piastri
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summary: oscar has been acting strange
pairing: oscar piastri x fem! Brown! reader
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Zak had been worried about Oscar for a while. The far-off looks in meetings, the silence at dinners, the constant stares he was getting, all of it. He’d even been so worried, that he came to you, and you’d told him that Oscar had been just fine at home, so it must be something to do with work. 
It was a strange thing, to be dating your boss’s daughter. Oscar had in fact fallen for you within seconds of meeting you back in 2022, his first visit to MTC, before everything else happened. You, a legal trainee on the McLaren legal team, was the one running him through his contract, and he was very thankful that his lawyer was there to ask questions, because he was just focused on you. As he joined the team, you two got closer. About half way through his rookie season, he finally plucked up the courage to ask you out, and you had said yes. What ensued was a few months of sneaking around until you finally told your dad, who supported you two, but from afar. He liked Oscar, would he have preferred you pick someone that wasn’t his driver, yes, very much so, but he didn’t have a say in your life. You were an adult and if you wanted to go get your heart broken by an F1 driver, that was up to you. The one thing Zak hadn’t accounted for was the fact that Oscar was a sweetheart who was genuinely head over heels for you. He saw it when you were in the paddock, how Oscar smiled a little brighter, how he made you a priority all weekend, how he performed better. 
So what the fuck was going on with Oscar now? 
Zak was worried that he was planning on breaking up with you, or maybe he was just going through some mental roadblocks at work, so he called him into his office. 
Oscar awkwardly took a seat across from him, waiting to be addressed. 
“Are you alright, Osc? You seem a bit… off lately,” Zak asked, nothing but concern in his voice. 
Oscar shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said, but even he knew it sounded wrong. This is really not how he wanted this to go. He was insured of Zak’s worry by the way his brows furrowed. “You can talk to me kid, you know that right? If it’s about Y/n or-”
“It’s not about Y/n,” Oscar assured him. “I’m alright, I promise.”
“Oscar, talk to me, I’m here for you. If you’re going through something-”
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask for your blessing!” he admitted, speaking far too loud and far too fast. Oscar looked up to see Zak’s face blank, his jaw slightly dropped. “I’m so sorry-”
“You have it,” he said. Now it was Oscar’s jaw that dropped. “Of course you have it,” Zak’s lips turned into a smile. “She adores you. You clearly adore her. I love you, my wife loves you, my sons love you. Of course you have my blessing.”
He took a deep breath and smiled. “Thank you,” he chuckled. “God, I was terrified.”
“You thought I’d say no?”
Oscar shrugged. “Maybe?” 
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Zak was very happy when he woke up to a call from the two of you, engaged, a few weeks later.
oscarpiastri
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liked by pierregasly, zbrownceo, landonorris and 348,928 others
oscarpiastri: awesome season, can't wait to marry this girl though :)
comments
landonorris: OMFG YALL ARE YOUNGER THAN ME PLZ SLOW DOWN -> oscarpiastri: no more papaya rules 🤷
pierregalsy: too young -> kikagomez: bitch -> user92: lmao he's never said that before
zbrownceo: Congrats guys! Can't wait to walk you down the aisle!
charlesleclerc: MY SON IS GETTING MARRIED!!!!!! -> oscarpiastri: thank you adoptive father :)
user93: god she is GLOWING
user12: these are the cutest photos ever!!!!!!!
user8: THE RINGGGGG
lilymunihe: OMG I'M SO EXCITED!!!! ->youruser: OMG LOVE YOUUUUU
user98: they're so in love it's actually sickening
logansargeant: no ring picking creds? -> oscarpiastri: I don't think grimacing at every ring I chose was very helpful -> hattiepiastri: nah, but it was funny
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
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mydearzero · 3 months ago
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Bribes | Stiles Stilinski x Reader
18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Summary: You get paired with Stiles to write a paper for Coach's class. But when had Stilinski grown into his awkward features? When had he grown out his buzzcut? Why was he suddenly so insanely fuckable?
Contents: NO Y/N, afab!Reader, smut, Stiles is a bit cocky lmao, fucking in the jeep, reader is related to Coach (wether adopted or not doesn't matter), vaginal fingering, p in v sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, clumsy sex, playful banter, oral sex (v receiving), casual sex, coming inside, mentions of birth control, making out if I missed any warnings please let me know!
3.5K words
Had to get Stiles out of (pls into plEASE) my system SOMEHOW, so here you go. This one is dedicated to @uglypastels for indulging my obsession and continuously sending me Dylan O'Brien thirst edits <3 <3
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“Just so you’re aware, this paper is as high on my list of priorities as the Pope is in Amsterdam,” Stiles dropped his binder on the table, startling you out of your daydream. He was exactly 4 minutes late, not that you were counting. It was still impressive, seeing as he just came from practice. 
“Believe me, I, too, would rather be hanging around with Isaac Lahey, yet we’re both here. Let’s just get it over with.” Stiles snorted a laugh, but didn’t comment.
You didn’t not get along with Stilinski. You weren’t sure if you could be called friends, exactly. You’d known each other pretty much all your lives, just like the majority of your school. Beacon Hills wasn’t exactly a metropolis. 
You sighed and laid out your notes, Stiles following your example. You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Those are your notes?” 
There were only doodles, random calculations and sporadic keywords scribbled on the loose piece of crumpled paper he straightened out next to your notebook. 
“I’m surprised, too. There’s actual words. I don’t usually get that far.” The smirk on his face could only be described as smug. You groaned. This was going to take forever. You divided the topics for the paper amongst yourselves and silently got to work. The ‘silently’ part didn't last long, however. It never did with Stiles.
“Are you still living with your uncle?” He questioned suddenly. You frowned at the question, confused, but nodded either way. 
“So can’t you just, I don’t know, cook him dinner and have him give us a good grade?” The gleam in his eyes nearly made you laugh. Nearly. Instead, you flicked him on the side of the head. He whined something about unnecessary violence, but it fell on deaf ears. 
“I’m not bribing my uncle just so you can slack off, Stiles. Besides, I’m never really sure if he even likes me,” you wondered out loud. 
“You and me, both…” Stiles grumbled. 
You glanced at Stiles as he scribbled furiously, seeming to finally get some of his research done. His knees wiggled excessively as he wrote about the economic effects of pandemics. You wrote down a few key parts of the paragraphs in your book before turning to your laptop and beginning the outline of the paper. Stiles hummed quietly as he read the entry he’d just written, tapping his pen furiously against the table. 
“Can you stop that?” You requested, his incessant movement distracting you more than his general being already did. He glanced up, an amused expression on his face. 
“What,” he tapped his pencil faster. “This?” You contained the urge to roll your eyes and stared at him blankly. He stopped the movement for perhaps one whole minute before picking it back up again. 
You only glanced up pointedly this time. He added a jiggle of his knees in challenge. You rose from your chair, leaned over and snatched the pen out of his hand, throwing it across the library. “Fetch.” 
Stiles gaped up at you in surprise. The timing of it was very unfortunate, but you’d never really noticed how Stilinski had grown into his awkward features. Something must’ve shown on your face, because Stiles now looked just as confused, perhaps intrigued, as you felt. While you’d been confident in throwing his pen across the room in annoyance, having him look up at you like that made it so you weren’t sure if you wanted him to get up. You cleared your throat and sat back in your chair. 
“Unbelievable…” Stiles muttered under his breath as he got up to get the pen. It gave you time to recompose. You didn’t look at him as he sat back down, but felt his eyes burn a hole through the side of your head. 
An unfamiliar tension hung in the air while you worked in silence. You snuck glances at Stiles, who was finally focussed on his writing once more. His hair was longer, still messy and unstyled from practice. The grey workout gear perfectly accentuated his broadened shoulders. He bit his lip after reading a complex entry, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like on your own, or on your neck while your hands tugged on his now perfectly tuggable locks. 
A few times his eyes met yours. You’d quickly dart them back to your notebook, pretending you hadn’t been looking, knowing damn well he’d seen.  
Oh my god. Get. it. together.
“Did you finish?” You dared ask after a while, having completed your own part. All you had to do was put your parts together, wrap it up and finish. 
“I’ll give it to you, but you have to give something to me first,” Stiles spoke in a challenging tone. For a split second back there you’d wondered how he was still single after all this time, but now you were reminded. He was insufferable. 
“What could you possibly want from me, Stiles? Just give me your damn part.” 
“A kiss.” 
“What? No!” You sputtered. Stiles’ tongue poked the inside of his cheek cockily as he raised an eyebrow, pointing to his lips. 
“Guess you’ll have some explaining to do to your uncle why you’re only handing in half an assignment, then.” 
“This is coercion, Stilinski! Should I call your dad?” You crossed your arms, refusing to look him in the eye. The librarian shushed you loudly. You could feel heat rush to your face, but didn’t relent. Asshole. 
Stiles leaned closer, running a finger over the side of your face. Your heartbeat increased what seemed about tenfold.
“It’s not coercion if you want me to.” His breath hit your neck as he spoke, sending goosebumps down your arms. “And I’m getting the feeling you really want me to.” 
You jerked away from his reach, coming to your senses. You gathered your things into your bag, mumbling something about your GPA being fine, anyway. You stomped away from the table, heart racing. You were mad, not because he was suggesting something you didn’t want, rather that he’d clocked exactly what you wanted so easily. 
Concerned Stiles would follow you out of the library, you hid behind a few bookshelves in a section nobody usually visited. You caught your breath, placing your palm on your chest. You dropped your bag on the floor, turning to peek around the bookshelf to see if Stiles was still stationed at the table. Relieved, you saw he’d indeed decided to follow you out of the library.
You turned back to grab your bag and head out, but were met with Stiles’ face mere inches from your own. You were startled, but he grabbed your waist before you could fall over. His hold was strong. Your hands instinctively went up to his chest, steadying yourself. Had he always been this tall? 
One of his hands wandered slightly lower, rubbing small circles on your lower back. Your eyes met his, which were just shining with mischief and an underlying sense of self-satisfaction. His tongue darted out, licking his lower lip. 
“Can I be frank? You’re incredibly annoying,” you stated, slinging your arms around his neck, finally giving in. 
“You can be whoever you want as long as I get to kiss you, Frank,” Stiles laughed. You groaned but pulled him close either way. 
“Shut up.” 
Stiles obliged and put his mouth to yours aggressively, tugging your body against his. One of his hands wandered up, cupping the back of your head to bring it closer. You tugged at the small locks at the back of his neck, eliciting a sighed moan from Stiles. 
“You’re so hot,” he confessed when you broke apart for a second. He turned you so you were pushed with your back against the bookcase, a few books falling to the floor. Neither of you cared as your kiss continued, deepening by the second. His hands held your hips as he started grinding against you, sweats low on his hips. His mouth made its way down your jaw, moving to suck hasty kisses on your neck. 
“Stiles…” you sighed blissfully. Heat gathered in your stomach at the soft, breathy noises coming from his lips combined with the sound of them against your skin. He put his knee between your thighs.
“Knew you wanted this as much as I did, fuck,” Stiles groaned. The pressure from his knee was delicious, but not enough. It was almost as if he could read your mind as he slid his hand into your bottoms, working your underwear out of the way somewhat clumsily. 
“God… so wet for me,” he moaned. You could only reply with breathy whimpers, trying to make as little noise as possible. Stiles shushed you, placing his unoccupied hand over your mouth as the other started rubbing small circles over your clit. You closed your eyes and let your head fall against the bookcase. Your knees went weak at the sensation, not much holding you up besides Stiles. 
He slipped his hand out of your underwear, bringing a finger up to his mouth. He casually licked it clean. He hooked his thumbs into your bottoms, seeking eye contact and asking for non-verbal permission to tug them down. You bit your lip and nodded enthusiastically. When your underwear hit the floor, so did Stiles’ knees. Your eyes darted around your environment, but the school was nearly empty at this time, especially the library. 
You had to slap your hand over your mouth when Stiles made contact with your clit, his tongue tentatively licking between your folds. Your breathing was laboured, chest heaving as Stiles took his time exploring. Your bottom lip found itself between your teeth, holding in your moans. Your hands shot to Stiles’ hair. Perfectly tuggable, indeed. 
He groaned when you gave an exceptionally sharp tug, taking the time to look you in the eyes. The vibrations of his lowered voice felt good. You had seemingly no control over your hands, fingers tightening their grip the closer you got to the edge. 
“Shit, baby… So good for me. Gotta stay quiet…” Stiles mumbled. A small, high pitched keen left your lips. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to keep the silence up. You looked down once more and saw Stiles palming himself over his sweats as he continued eating you out, rhythmically grinding his hips in time with his mouth. 
The sound of a bag zipper closing got your attention. You smacked Stiles’ shoulder to stop, wanting to whine in frustration at just how close you’d been. Stiles paid you no mind, lost in giving you pleasure. You put both your hands on his shoulders and pushed him away, careful not to tip him over. It was only then Stiles noticed the noise of someone packing up to leave. He scrambled to stand up, trying to help you get redressed. 
“I got it, I got it,” you hissed quietly. 
“Who’s there? You can’t be here anymore! Library’s about to close!” It was the librarian who’d shushed you earlier. You grabbed your bag in a hurry. 
“Would you still rather be hanging out with Isaac?” Stiles asked jokingly, wiping his chin. You whacked his arm, storming past him to the doors. He followed quickly, arm wandering over your shoulders as you walked out of the now deserted school. You didn’t speak as Stiles led you over to the Jeep, insisting on driving you home, at least. 
You sat in the passenger seat as Stiles ran around to the drivers’ side. You wiped your hands on your thighs, huffing a frustrated breath. You hadn’t even finished the paper, and now you got cock-blocked on top of it. So not worth it. You turned to Stiles as he put the keys in the ignition. He’d never looked hotter than that very second, lips bruised, hair tousled and still pent up, besides maybe when he looked up at you with his face buried between your legs. Okay so maybe a little worth it. 
“If you keep looking at me like that I’m gonna pull over and we’re gonna have sex in the back seat like right now,” Stiles joked. Or at least, you assumed it was a joke. 
You raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, threat or invitation?” 
“Option D? All of the above? I mean, D is definitely an option.”
“Pull over and we’ll see how much of an option it is.” 
Stiles didn’t need to be told twice, pulling over in a small clearing as soon as he saw the opportunity. He took off his seatbelt, scrambling to get out of the car. He opened the door for you, closing it and letting you in the back seat. You laid back across the seats and manoeuvred your top off, throwing it at Stiles. He caught it, quickly discarding it somewhere in the car. He shimmied his pants down his legs, not bothering to take off his shoes. You did the same, leaving you in your underwear. Stiles stopped to take a proper look. 
“You’re gonna kill me. You’ve already killed me and this is my pre-hell Heaven trailer of what could’ve been. God iwantyousobad.” You pulled him on top of you as you laughed. 
“Less talking, more fucking, yes?” 
“Yes, I agree. Wholeheartedly,” Stiles nodded furiously, tugging his shirt over his head with only one hand. Hot. He finally closed the car door behind him before he could forget. 
“I’m going to assume you don’t just casually keep condoms in your car?” You questioned. Stiles closed his eyes and tightened his lips in frustration, mentally scolding himself. He finally had you in his Jeep, half-naked, ready to fuck, and he didn’t have a freaking condom??? He finally shook his head no, sighing and pulling away from you slowly. 
You leaned up on your elbows and whispered in his ear. “Hmmm… Guess you’re just gonna have to come inside of me… Wouldn’t want to make a mess of the car…” 
Stiles pounced at that, kissing you like his life depended on it. He tugged your underwear back down your legs, now very familiar with your pelvic region. He struggled to undo your bra, cursing under his breath. You laughed and lended a hand, undoing it and slipping it off your shoulders. 
“Holy shit,” Stiles groaned. “Promise me to thank Coach for pairing us up.” 
“You did not just mention my uncle as a reaction to seeing me naked,” you complained. 
“I did. Not sorry. He did me a favour.” 
You ignored the comment and decided to kiss him to shut him back up. Him and his mouth… God his mouth. You were still pent up from the library, and if he didn’t fuck you soon you were pretty sure you’d go crazy. 
“Stiles, want you,” you whined impatiently. He was too busy paying attention to your nipples, taking one between his teeth as he made eye contact. “Shit,” you gasped.
Your hands wandered down his torso, stopping at the hem of his boxers. You tugged them down, setting his very hard cock free from its confinement. The tip was red, dribbling with pre-cum. He was obviously just as pent up as you felt. You gave him a few experimental tugs with your hand before lining him up with your entrance. 
Stiles took over, taking his time to slowly push inside you. You put your hands on his shoulders, holding your breath at the stretch. He was so much bigger than you’d expected. You both moaned when he bottomed out. You felt so full, it was insane. You dug your nails into his shoulders and gave him a nod, indicating he could move. 
He set a slow pace, testing the waters. He was enthralled by the jiggle of your tits with every movement. Typical. His hands moved up to hold them, almost as leverage, as he picked up his pace. 
“Fuck, so good,” Stiles moaned. You were about to move a hand down to touch yourself, but Stiles stopped you. 
“Let me make you feel good, let me make you come.” He put one hand on your shoulder to steady himself and brought the other down to where you were joined. He continued to thrust, putting his fingers on your clit. It took him a second, but he found a rhythm where he could thrust and stroke at the same time. 
“Oh my god, Stiles!” You moaned, the added sensation feeling amazing. The sound of his hips slapping against yours was filthy to say the least. You moved to hold onto something above your head as Stiles sped up. Your hands soon found the little ledge, and you gripped it to the best of your ability. 
Stiles bent down to kiss you, pace still unrelenting. The new angle of him bent forward sent his cock exactly where you needed it. 
“Shit, oh my god.” It was all the confirmation Stiles needed to keep it up. 
“So pretty, so tight around my cock. Such pretty tits. You feel so good,” he mumbled against your lips. 
The pace of his hips became more erratic, both of you nearing the edge. Your knuckles turned white with how tight you were gripping the car door. 
“Gonna come inside you,” Stiles moaned. “Fill you up so nice.” 
“Yes, Stiles, please!”  
“Fuck, so good, so good for me,” Stiles was becoming more talkative and less coherent as he lost himself in the pleasure. He was mouthing at your jawline, sucking another hickey where there were already plenty. 
“Fuck, Stiles, gonna come,” you whined. You could feel his smile against your neck. Smug idiot. He then started rubbing your clit exactly the way you liked it. Combined with him hitting that spot inside you over and over and over again, you were seeing stars. 
“Don’t stop, please,” another moan left your lips. 
“Come for me. Come on my cock. So pretty, so good,” Stiles blabbered. 
“Fuck! Stiles!” You keened, tightening around his dick as you came. He kissed you again as his hips stuttered, thrusting a few more times before painting your walls with his cum. His head fell on your chest as you both caught your breath.
When his breathing had slowed, he groaned before lifting himself off you, chuckling as he pecked both your nipples, then your lips before looking for something to clean you with. He settled on the shirt of his lacrosse uniform. 
“Ugh, gross,” you mumbled as he wiped you clean. Stiles shrugged. “It was going into the wash, anyway.” 
Stiles put his underwear and sweats back on, opening the door and getting out so you could have the space to redress yourself. When you reached under the seat for your bra, you pulled out a baseball bat. “Why do you have a baseball bat in your car?” 
“No… Particular reason. Safety. Lots of dangerous animals… out there.” 
“So you settled on a bat?” You wondered, holding the object. Stiles nodded, not meeting your eyes, his locked on your still naked chest. You threw the bat at him and laughed, reaching under the seat again and this time pulling out your bra. 
When you were finally dressed, you got back in the passenger seat so Stiles could drive you home. It wasn’t a long drive, as you’d already been halfway there before pulling over. He drove up the driveway, and you cringed on the inside, hoping your uncle wouldn’t see who dropped you off. You took your bag and got out of the car, walking around to the drivers’ side where Stiles was already leaning out the window. 
You looked at him and gave him a small smile. You leaned forward to give him a kiss goodbye. “You better email me your part of the paper tonight, Stilinski.” 
“You bet, babe,” he winked and gave you a salute, watching as you laughed and turned to walk inside the house. 
You closed the door and took off your shoes, hanging your coat and leaving your bag by the door. “I’m home!” 
Coach took one look at your appearance and frowned. Right… maybe you should’ve straightened yourself out before walking into the living room. Disheveled hair, hickeys on your neck, it wasn’t exactly rocket science as to why you were home later than usual. 
“If you’re gonna be having boys over, do it when I’m not around, please? I have enough of them to deal with at practice and in class. And at least have the decency to tell an uncle who he’s dealing with.” 
You cringed as the Jeep’s headlights very obviously flashed through the window at that very second, Stiles driving home. It was anything but unrecognizable. 
“Stilinski!? You’re sleeping with STILINSKI?! God, kill me now. If I’m now expected to have him over for Christmas dinner you better throw me off a bridge. And you BETTER use protection because I’m NOT gonna have Mini-linski’s running around.” 
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nochepsicodelica · 3 months ago
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. ๋࣭݁ 。˚ The Drunken Collection
-
You wake up to the sound of your phone vibrating and sluggishly reach to grab it from where it rests on Toji's nightstand. You squint at the blinding brightness of your screen and answer the phone.
-Hello?- You say, your voice quiet from being abruptly woken up. You get a deep laugh on the other end as an immediate response.
-Who's this?- Toji gasps after checking his phone and seeing your contact name and picture on the screen. -It's my babyyyy. My baby baby.-
-Toji...- you start, unable to get through the sentence without letting out a tired laugh. He sounds drunk. -You okay?-
-No, I don't know where you are. I checked every room in this stupid house. It's like a fuckin' maze and I can't find you. Are you actually hiding from me, doll?-
You hear him open another door, followed by an almost inaudible "hello" away from his phone, and then a few seconds of silence, before he slams the door shut again. You figure you should let him know where you are before he breaks one of the doors from the force he's using to shut them.
-Baby?- you call, hoping he's listening.
-Not in that one either. Damn it, ma. You're scaring the hell out of me. Just... just tell me where you are. Gonna fuckin' throw up... Where are you?-
-Toji, go have some water and relax. I'm not there. I'm home, in bed.-
-Really? Why the hell am I even here, then?-
-You're out with friends, baby. Don't worry too much about me. I was sleeping just a couple minutes ago.-
-Sleeping? Without me?- He scoffs, a sudden mild sting in his chest taking main priority over his nausea. -You don't miss me, do you?-
-I do, baby. I miss you lots, but...-
-Then, i'm coming home. Easy. Byeee, love you.-
Before you can get another word in, you hear the dial tone. You sigh and click your phone off, before rolling off of Toji's side of the bed and transporting to the living room to sleep a little longer on the couch, since you have a delivery coming soon.
Forty minutes later, you wake up to the sound of knocking. You spring off the couch and make your way to the door. Looking through the peephole, you see Toji and Shiu, a notable contrast in their demeanors. Shiu looks composed, as usual, and Toji... not so much. You open the door, greeting both of them with a smile.
"Hey, Shiu. Thanks for bringing him home," you say, opening the door a little more for them.
"Ah, it's not a problem. He threatened to punch a hole in the wall if I didn't drive him home, immediately. Kept whining and crying about how you went to sleep without him." The brunette chuckles.
"Hiii, pretty baby," Toji coos at you, cheesing so hard that his cheeks go red. The smile drops when he turns to the man behind him. "Shiu, go 'way. Gonna treat my girl real fuckin' good." Toji turns to look at you again with a devilish smirk on his face, before waddling over and shrinking you in his embrace.
"Toji." You manage to peek at the spiky-haired man behind your giant, offering him a polite smile through the squishing you endure from Toji.
"Nah, he's right. The wife's waiting for me, so I do gotta scram."
"Thank you, Shiu. I really, really appreciate you bringing him back. Say hi to your lady for me--" You cut yourself off with a sound that resembles the squeak of a dog toy when Toji squeezes you tighter in his arms.
Shiu laughs, nodding in response to your extended greetings. "Will do. Goodnight."
The door shuts and it's just you and Toji. Certain parts of his shirt reek of alcohol, like he spilled some of it on himself and it dried up.
"Baby, that was rude," you say, lifting your head off of him.
"Mm," Toji grunts, dismissively, his arms keeping your body firm against his. "Not my fault he wouldn't leave. Rushed him for a reason, too. Wanted to see my baby, already." He smirks at your perplexed expression, before leaning in and stealing a kiss from you. Yep, you can still taste what he drank.
He groans, like he just took a big sip of cold water on a scorching hot summer day. "Been wanting to do that for hours. More, more," he says, leaning in again. You give him a couple more kisses before pulling away. "Gimme a kiss, yeah, baby?" he requests instantly after. You try not to laugh at how he sounds like the birds in those funny videos, where they talk and make the obnoxious kissy noises.
"Last one, Toji. We have to--" he cuts you off by putting his lips on yours. Not exactly a kiss, but your lips are right up against each other, and you can hear him humming out giddy little laughs. When he pulls away, he makes a popping sound with his mouth—his rendition of the obnoxious kissing noise—and smiles like an idiot. This manages to break your composed bearing, easily luring out the laughter you tried so hard to stifle. "What are you doing?"
"Kissing," he says, with a dumb grin. "One more, one more."
You want to see if he does it again, so you regress what you said about that last one being the last one, and let him kiss you. Lo and behold, he makes the popping sound, again, right after separating from you, following it with a chuckle.
"Again?" He asks, not waiting for you to answer before he steals another kiss and does the pop! again.
"That's how you kiss?" You ask him, unable to contain the smile on your face.
"Mhm. You like it, huh? You want more, but you just don't wanna admit it." He gives you a teasing grin. "Don't even-- don't even worry, doll. I see you. You're all I see," he says, guiding your head back to rest on him. He smiles with his eyes shut, something that could easily lead to him tipping both of you over if he falls asleep. "Missed you lots, bug. Bug... mmm..." He sighs, nuzzling his nose into your hair. "Got myself a little lovebug," he murmurs, a small laugh following.
"Yeah, I missed you, too. Don't you want to go to bed?" You ask, not moving in his sturdy hold.
"Are you going, too? I'm not gonna go if you're not going, so don't even try to send me off alone."
"Toji." You giggle, shifting to look at him, again. "Why wouldn't I go with you? We always sleep together."
"I don't know, maybe sleeping without me, earlier, made you realize you like sleeping without me, better."
"You're still on that?" You ask, only getting an affirmative hum in response from him. "I slept on your side of the bed, if that makes you feel better," you say, attempting to reason with him. Again, he simply hums. "I even hugged your pillow, and used your nightstand. The whole time, I was hoping you were having a good time with your friends, and then, I fell asleep. I fell asleep thinking of you, baby."
A smile forms on Toji's lips, his scar lifting, like the rest of his features upon taking in this new piece of information.
"Yeah? You thought about me? You missed me?" There's a gleam in his tired, fern-colored eyes, as he looks at you, awaiting your response.
"Of course, I did. We weren't in bed together, so of course I was going to miss you and wonder about you."
He laughs, the sound coming off as something of relief and release of what gnawed at him for way too long. "Okay," he chuckles. "Yeah-- yeah, I forgive you, mama," he says, pulling you into a bear hug that is so tight, that it lures strained groans and squeaks from you, due to the pressure on your body. "Love you," he murmurs, pressing multiple quick kisses to the top of your head. "Fucking love you, gorgeous. Love you."
"Love--" you snicker. "Love you, too, Toji. Let's go to bed, alright?"
"Mhm. Take me with you," he says, releasing you from his hold and giving you his hand, entrusting you to guide him to the room, while he trails behind you, slowly, like a shadow.
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comicaurora · 4 months ago
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So uhh. If you feel like talking about it. As someone who lives in the US, how are you being kind to yourself on this upsetting morning <3
Checked in with my loved ones first and foremost.
It's interesting. The vibe I've been getting from my circle is very different from 2016. Much less… dread and horror at a realignment of the understanding of what can and can't happen here, now, in this place and day and age. More "fuck, guys. again? whatever. enjoy your consequences, maybe you'll manage to learn something this time."
Frustration and anger is not the most positive feeling, or even the most fair one to express, but it is a protective one. It hurts a lot less than most alternatives.
And it's quite a shift. It was earthshattering back then. How could this have been allowed to happen? Why couldn't it be stopped? Why couldn't we stop it? Why couldn't I stop it? Why couldn't everyone see what this meant? Why couldn't I make them understand? Did they really not care? What did that mean about humanity as a whole? Were we so thoughtless? How could anyone be trusted?
It seems… much less earthshattering to see it happen twice. Disappointing, sure. Frustrating. But nowhere near as devastating as the first time I saw it unfold. We already knew it could happen. I've already had time to digest the implications. Now I'm just freshly disappointed.
It also feels less indicative of Crushing Truths Of Reality this time. We've seen shit get bad. We've also seen shit get better from here! We know both outcomes are possible, even inevitable. We know hoping for a better future is always worthwhile. This isn't the apocalypse. It's an unremarkably bad turn of events brought on by unremarkably self-centered well-documented human impulses. It's utterly mundane in its unpleasantness. It doesn't need to be dignified with despair.
A democratic election, no matter the outcome or the side we're on, makes us all acutely aware of how outnumbered we are by people whose worldviews and priorities are demonstrably incomprehensible to us. And the first time you get outnumbered, it's a shock. Defeat is haunting. It didn't matter how badly you wanted it; by the very function of democracy, you do not have the power to override greater numbers. (insert electoral college caveat here)
The second time through, I find myself focusing on a different facet that has dramatically reduced the amount of spiralling I'm doing. I don't expect this to work for everyone, but for me specifically, it helped to crystallize a few thoughts:
You don't have the power to control anyone else. You don't. You can't share your worldview and your revelations with them. You can't make them think or understand anything. You can lay it all out for them, but you can't make them listen, and you can't make it click. A mentor can't make their student learn a lesson; that's why teaching is so complicated and hard. An active choice must be made by the person to enable themselves to understand, and they must put the pieces together in their own mind before it makes sense to them, and the pieces must have been presented in a way that makes sense to them in the first place. Lead a horse to water, can't make them drink.
These elections highlight a disconnect in what different groups of people care about; and no matter how clearly you explain yourself or how passionately you perform, caring cannot be forced on someone. Understanding and connection cannot be forced. You cannot make anything or anyone matter to someone. They have to choose to see how it matters in order to internalize it. If they choose not to, that is not your failing. You couldn't have made them do it by just Explaining Better. They are not your responsibility. They make their own choices. You can't reach inside their head and connect the dots for them.
I'm a storyteller. I make stories and put them out into the world. I hope people get something good out of them, but I have no control over what that something is. I want people to be thoughtful and kind and compassionate and hopeful and see themselves reflected in stranges, no matter their differences. I can craft stories that I hope encourage this. But that is the extent of my ability and the extent of my responsibility. I control no-one's actions but my own, and so while I am not having the best day, I am at least content that I am doing what I can, and I am not shattering myself against impossibilities trying to control the things I can't.
Sometimes, people make decisions that I think are really bad. I can't make that not happen. All I can do is try to make decisions that will result in things I think are good. Today, that means checking in on people, and not assigning too much dramatic narrative weight to an ultimately mundane set of unremarkable bad decisions outside of my control. We'll take life as it comes and help each other out when and how we can. Everything else is out of our hands.
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lostingrayrain · 4 months ago
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hello hello!! i bought homicipher the day it came out and i'm so in love with it.. but there's no content whatsoever and i'm so sad 😭😭 could you write literally anything for any character.. i just need to see more homicipher content!!! 😭😭💗
I GOT YOU ANON I've clocked in like 20 hours since the release on November 1st omg....
I've been cooking up something for my first Homicipher post.....here's some general thoughts on the relationships/dynamics with the main guys.
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Characters: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Silver Hair / Mr. Silvair, Mr. Gap, Mr. Hood, Mr. Machete, Mr. Scarletella
Word Count: 1454
Warnings: sfw, some mentions of canon-typical violence
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Mr. Crawling
He loves you!! He loves you so, so, so much!!!
Do you love him?
He asks you that. A lot. He loves to be reassured that you adore him. And he's always vocal about how much he adores you.
He follows you everywhere, like a lost puppy. It's honestly so endearing and sweet. He's constantly on the lookout for you.
He also adores physical touch, once he knows it's fine. Other than the little headpats, he likes to touch your legs, especially your calves. In times of rest he's incredibly cuddly and loves to nuzzle into you.
Pet his hair and he'll melt immediately. It's so relaxing to him.
He's usually with you, but when he's not he's often on the lookout for gifts and trophies to bring to you. He just wants to make you happy, in any way possible. The second there's anything you mention liking or being fond of, it's a priority for him to see if he can scrounge it up.
If you'll let him, he'd love to touch your hair. He will play with it and make silly nonsensical braids and giggle quietly to himself all the while.
He's a bit of a chatterbox. He loves to talk to you. Any time he's been away he likes to give you little reports of what he's done or what he's seen. And he wants to hear all about your day or your dreams, too. There's never a time he won't want to hear what you have to say.
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Mr. Silver Hair / Mr. Silvair
You are so very interesting to him! He wants to study you.
But not hurt you. Normally, he probably would have already dismembered you to watch how your body pulls together again, but since you're friends with Mr. Chopped, he's put aside that urge.
Instead it's been replaced by something else, though he doesn't really understand what it is. He's never felt it before. Or maybe he has? Maybe he doesn't remember? Could you help him remember?
Whenever you’re feeling ill, he finds that he wants to make you feel better. He’s trying hard to learn how to keep you together just as you are.
He’ll get you to lie down when it seems you’re feeling faint, and carry you to bed when you collapse in the middle of an errand. Before he realises it, he's massaging your hair. Think nothing of it. Your head hurts, right? So it makes sense to pet you.
He likes to watch you sleep. He can’t put a finger on why. He likes to tell himself he’s doing armchair research when he’s really just….zoning out.
He's extremely perceptive and observant. He's always checking your reactions to things and events to figure out what you like or don't like, or to try to understand how you're feeling in the moment.
He's the type to politely ask if it's okay to touch you before doing so.
He would never hurt you unless your urges became unbearable, in which case it's self-defense, right? He'll make sure you'll turn back to normal and he'll be there for you every step of the way.
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Mr. Gap
He's probably...one of the strangest denizens of the otherworld. You're still not sure if he has a body. But he has helped you on multiple occasions. You've found yourself growing fond of him.
You often see him peeking at you from various holes and gaps. Sometimes he tries to get your attention, sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes he just watches.
When you find a bag in the underworld, you begin carrying it around with you.
He's usually inside, but sometimes not. You have no idea where he goes.
He'll often bring back little gifts like weapons or food, like some bizarre cat. When he finds out you like candy, he tends to focus on that.
He always asks for your heart before he gives you anything, and you always say no, and he always grumbles.
But somehow you'll always find those same things coincidentally in your path or somewhere in the room after you wake up, if you've taken a nap.
He likes to scope out newspapers and magazines too, and show them to you, especially if they feature himself. He's so proud of that.
Over time, his requests for your heart grow less and less frequent. Sometimes, you forget he used to ask you for it at all, until he suddenly pipes up with the query again.
Is his wanting your heart the same thing as wanting your love? Things to ponder.
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Mr. Hood
He's quiet and reclusive but he's there for you whenever you need him.
You need or want anything? Just ask. He'll give it to you immediately with hardly a question.
No harm will ever come to you whenever you're with him, and he hardly lets you out of his sight. He's incredibly protective of you.
He loves to carry you in his arms or on his shoulder, whether you're small or not. It's no bother to him. He's more than strong enough.
Hand touches are so pleasant to him -- whether you're touching his hands, or he's touching your face. He's secretly touch-starved. As long as you don't shy away, he'll continue to hold onto you.
He enjoys quizzing you on your knowledge of the otherworld language. When things are slow, he’ll randomly ask you if you know the names of certain things.
Whenever you both encounter something new during your travels, he’s quick to ask you if you know what it is or outright tells you what it’s called.
He seems a bit self-conscious of having minimal form. What is under his robe? If you don't ask he'll be grateful. He doesn't know himself.
But if you're not repulsed by his anomalous form, that's just -- incredibly touching.
He claims to not understand love, but he'll never abandon you.
Maybe he doesn't understand. Maybe he's forgotten.
But there's something about you that comforts him, and makes him feel safe. Quite paradoxical -- he's the one doing the protecting, after all. But your presence soothes him.
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Mr. Machete
He's just looking for a way to not be bored. And being with you -- somehow, it's fun.
Maybe because he's usually alone, so he doesn't often have anyone else to talk to. It's...fun to banter with you, even if sometimes your words confuse him.
It's unquestionable that he's the brawn, you're the brain of this duo. Maybe the beauty and the beast, too?
He's always, secretly, been a little bit of a coward. The second things don't look like they'll turn out well for him, he ditches and flees.
But, oddly, you give him the courage to stand against things or monsters he would have thought were impossible to defeat.
Sometimes, you die -- whether by accident or because something else got to you before he could. But he always sighs and waits for you to wake up again. If you're mad, it's a little funny. You were just too slow that time.
He likes sparring with you. You have to get faster, right? Your weapon is pretty funny, too. So small and yet somehow you manage to not get overwhelmed by him. He's not holding back. He never would. Right?
He likes to pick you up and sling you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Likes to hug you like a teddy bear, too. You're soft and warm. You feel nice against him.
He's not the type to ask, but if you made any indication of not liking anything, he'd stop. He doesn't want to break you.
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Mr. Scarletella
You are his queen. He literally worships the ground you walk on.
You are so fascinating to him. He just can't believe he's found someone as perfect as you. Someone who likes to destroy and kill people, just like him? Immaculate.
You haven't and never will give him your name. That's fine. He can live with that, as long as you're with him.
You've likely given him something else to call you. It's not quite your name -- maybe it's not your full name, and he knows it, because he can't quite grasp your essence. But it's enough to be able to give a sound to the person -- thing -- he likes most in this world.
He likes to say that not-quite name, and he says it often, just to get your attention.
He's fascinated by everything about you -- including how small you are in comparison to him. He loves that he can easily dwarf your form and loom over you. It's exhilarating in a completely different way from mindless violence.
Speaking of which, his favourite thing is without a doubt to commit violence with you. There's a new urban legend steadily growing in the human world, of a pair of murderers characterised by their red and white umbrellas. You're the perfect perfectly awful duo, truly.
Even when he's not with you, he's always somehow got an eye on you. Most of the otherworld residents know by now who you belong to, and they'd never lay hand on the one cherished by the red umbrella man.
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cinnamorollcrybaby · 5 months ago
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Loving your JJK men so I'm here to request fics if possible. I'm feeling Nanami, Geto and Megumi mainly, Sukuna for the shits and anyone else you're in the mood for. It doesn't have to be super long either, just sweet supportive men.
You're either on your way to a thing with friends/family or already at an event when your period either starts or takes a turn for the worse (painful enough cramps to cause nausea) and you're asking them to turn back/leave even though you know you agreed to attend.
Period Problems!
Tags: fluff, cursing, period comfort, established relationships, wee bit of crack
An: Thank you! I appreciate the req <3
Incl: Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Choso, Megumi, Sukuna
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SATORU
You kinda let Satoru do all the talking during reunions at Jujutsu Tech. It’s not that you don’t like your former classmates; you do. You just find so much socialization to be kinda exhausting.
Satoru was the opposite however. He’s a natural born extrovert that can talk to other people so casually for hours on end. Socialization doesn’t tire him out at all, so he’s quick to take over conversations for you when he can sense that your social battery is low.
He’s subtle with it: placing his arm slightly in front of you as he steps up, casually inserting himself into the conversation. It feels fluid and not forced at all.
That’s how you two were right now. You were tucked behind his arm, leaning your head against his shoulder. You had been cramping all day long, so you already wasn’t in too good of a mood. The socialization was really the cherry on top.
A torturous wave of cramps hit, nearly making your knees buckle from under you. Your hand tightened around Satoru’s bicep, and you tried to breathe your way through it, not wanting to take him away from all his friends.
Satoru turned his head towards you, and he could immediately notice how pale you looked. “Hey, it was good seeing you though. Take care of the wife and kids.” Your husband smiled at whoever he was talking to before guiding you away from everyone else.
“What’s the matter, sweets? You alright?” He asks softly as he’s extended his infinity out to you so no one can touch you or even get close to you.
“Cramping… hurts..” was all you could manage to get out.
“Let’s get you home, sweets. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling good?” His large palm rubs at the small of your back as he opens the door for you, allowing you to step out.
“Didn’t wanna ruin your event.” You murmur quietly as tears brim in your eyes. You didn’t want to be seen as an inconvenience to him.
“Hey, heyy… c’mere, sweet girl.” Satoru wraps you up in a tight embrace, petting your hair as you cried into his dress shirt. “My poor baby. What kind of husband would I be if I made my wife who’s in a lot of pain get up and go to something as uncomfortable as a reunion? I don’t even really care about those people anyway. You’re my priority.” He leans down and presses a sweet kiss to the top of your head.
“I feel like I’m gonna throw up.” You murmur quietly, and he steps back away from you.
“Right, let’s get you home. I’ll make some chocolate covered strawberries, and we can watch that reality tv show you really like.” Satoru suggests as he helps you into the passenger seat of his car.
SUGURU
Who said cults couldn’t have bake sales? It brings a sense of community and camaraderie amongst the members. Geto thought you were a literal genius when you came up with the idea.
You had been in charge of planning and organizing the entire bake sale, and today was finally the day. It’s early in the morning, and Geto’s helping the girls in the kitchen bake blueberry muffins so they have enough time to cool before the sale.
You stirred out of your own slumber upon hearing the girls giggling. “Hey now, you two, don’t you wake your mama up. She’s sleeping.” Your husband warns the twins, and they both try to shush each other. The giggling pursues anyway, but you don’t mind. You wouldn’t rather be woken up any other way.
As you slowly eased yourself out of bed, your stomach immediately cramped up, sending shockwaves of pain down your thighs and back at the same time.
Was it really that time of the month already?
Your stained bedsheets said yes. You must’ve started in your sleep. Great.
Upon hearing you rustling around in the bedroom, Suguru walks in, not expecting to find you haphazardly pulling the sheets off yours and his bed.
“I just washed the sheets a couple weeks ago.” Geto said with a curious smile on his face. His head tilts to the side slightly, wondering what you were doing.
“I know. I’m sorry.” Your voice is quiet and full of shame that immediately has Suguru is full-on “fix mode”.
“Hey- what happened, baby?” He asks as he shuts the bedroom door behind him, so the girls can’t come and be nosey.
You sniffle softly and turn to show Geto your poor pajama pants that were now soaked in blood, and he immediately understands.
“Oh, I’m sorry, darling. How are you feeling?” He tenderly asks as he comes and takes the sheets out of your hand. He begins to pull them off for you.
“‘m hurting really bad..” You answer him in a quiet murmur.
“Go take a bath, darling. I got everything else. Don’t worry about it.” He presses a small kiss to the top of your head. “Throw your panties and pants in the hamper. I’ll try to get the stains out.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be grossed out.”
“Of course I’m sure. I’m a grown man. I can handle anything your body does.” He assures you as he carries the sheets over towards the laundry room.
You soak in the warm bath for quite a while, but the cramps still persist. You anxiously check the time on your phone like a hundred times. The bake sale should be starting soon, so you need to get up and start getting ready.
A knock at the door disturbs your track of thought. “It’s me, darling. Can I come in?” Suguru’s voice sounds from the other side of the door.
“Yeah, come in.” You answer back to him, and Suguru carries in a cup of tea before he shuts the door.
“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, princess.” He sits down on the floor next to the tub, and he carefully hands you the cup of tea.
“Thank you- I’m just trying to muster up enough strength to get up, so we can make it to the bake sale.” You say as you shift in the bath. The warm water and bubbles lap at your skin.
“Mmm, no need. Just focus on relaxing for right now, and we’ll see about making an appearance later on.”
“What do you mean? What about the girls? They’ll be devastated.”
“I had Manami take them to the sale. They’ll be fine.” He informs you as he pets your hair.
“Are you sure things will be alright? What if…”
“Ah, none of that. Things will be fine. You did a perfect job while planning everything. Our members are not incompetent people. They can handle a small bake sale, my love. I want you to just relax for today. Like I said, we might make a small appearance if you feel up to it later.”
“Sugu, I love you.”
“I love you too, darling.”
NANAMI
“Mmm, no can do. Sorry, it’ll have to be another day.” Nanami speaks into his phone as he’s looking at his calendar.
Ino has been begging to meet his wife for far too long now, so Nanami finally offered for Ino to come to yours and his house for dinner one evening. Planning it has been tough due to the vigorous schedules.
“Maybe it will just have to be next month.” Nanami shrugs his shoulders. He’s really not too bothered by not letting Ino meet you as he really tries not to involve you in his work life.
“Hm? Nanamin, what’s wrong with the 18th? We don’t have anything scheduled that day?” You ask curiously while tilting your head.
Your husband makes a face at you before he quickly taps the mute button on his phone. “Darling, according to your cycle, you’ll probably start your menstrual period that day. I highly doubt you’ll want any visitors over.”
Ah yes, you must’ve forgotten that you married a man who is literally obsessed with you and your happiness.
“That’s if my period comes on the day it’s suppose to. It could be late or early. You never know. Just invite him over. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” You assure him, waving away his concerned gaze.
Yeah, that was a fuckin mistake.
You had worked for the better half of the day preparing Katsudon for everyone to enjoy when Ino and Nanami get off work. You had to take frequent breaks: sitting down or lying down to try to weather yourself through your cramps.
Nanami was right — your period started earlier that morning, and you absolutely did not want company over today. You kept trying to persevere — not wanting to admit that Nanami might know your body better than you do. Also, you weren’t a fan of cancelling plans last minute.
Though, when the kitchen started to feel like it was over a hundred degrees in there, and the room started to spin, you knew you had to call and say something to your husband.
“Hey darling, we’re almost there. Sorry we’re running behind. I had to teach Ino how to tie a tie.” Your husband speaks over the phone, and your heart instantly sinks into your stomach. This poor boy is wearing a tie to come and meet you, but you’re fixing to cancel.
“Nanamin…” You mumble sheepishly over the phone. You feel terrible for having to cancel, but there’s just no way you can power through it.
“Are you alright, darling..?” He asks cautiously. His ability to instantly tell when something was wrong with you was still astonishing to this day.
“You were right… I don’t feel good.”
“Oh darling.. I was right? You started this morning, didn’t you?”
“… yeah.” You reluctantly admit with a small pout. It’s bad enough that you’re cramping terribly right now. Now, you have to admit just how right your husband was.
“Good thing Ino’s not with me, and I never arranged for him to come by tonight.” He says with a small huff of amusement. “I’m getting you one of those cheesecakes you really like. Then, I’ll be home.”
Oh, to be married to the king of domestic love.
“Ken, I love you. Hurry home please.” Your heart is immediately melting in your chest. Marrying him was the best decision of your life.
“I love you more, darling.”
CHOSO
There’s nothing worse than being overcrowded while on your period, and currently, that’s what was exactly happening.
Sitting between Choso and Yuji on a too small couch while Yuji lore dumped about Human Earthworm 1 and 2 was literally a nightmare, but it was even worse since your stomach was cramping up so badly to where you couldn’t even hear the words spilling from Yuji’s mouth.
Immediately, you regret agreeing to hanging out with Yuji today, but you hated seeing your cute boyfriend’s face turn to disappointment when you tell him no.
You assured him that he could hang out with Yuji without you — you didn’t mind sharing him with his little brother at all, but Choso would always say that it’s more fun with you involved.
Thus, you’re squished between the oversized males on the couch, watching the third Human Earthworm movie for like the 5th time while Itadori points out every little easter egg.
Your stomach is cramping so badly — making you feel like you’re either about to throw up or pass out or the secret option of doing both. Your cramps are literally reverberating through your thighs.
You didn’t want to make a big deal out of this, but your heart was starting to pound in your chest. You lean your head back, trying to stop the room from spinning in your head.
“Baby?” Choso’s voice echoes in your ear. Yuji pauses the movie, and they both look at you with a concerned look. Your boyfriend could immediately tell that something was wrong with you.
“Yuu, go get her some water.” Choso instructs, and he sits up on the couch. His hands start to fan over your face, wafting air towards you to help out. “Baby, can you hear me?”
Yuji quickly scrambles from the couch, and he jogs to the kitchen to get you a cold glass of water. Choso and Yuji do not look any alike, but they both have the same caring heart.
“Cho, I feel like ‘m gonna throw up.” Your voice is barely a strained whisper.
“Okay baby, hold on. Hold on for me, pretty girl.” Choso brushes your hair back from your face, and he then quickly sprints towards the bathroom to get the trashcan for you.
Choso returns quickly, and he places the trashcan in your lap. “Here you go, baby.” He whispers softly, and he places his hand gently on your shoulder for moral support. He’s not too great at these things, but he wants you to know that he’s here for you.
“What’s the matter? Are you sick or..?” He asks you, still trying to get to the root of what’s got you so ill all of a sudden.
“Cramping..” You murmur quietly, and Choso instantly feels like a fool. You told him you started your period this morning, but he completely forgot.
“I’m so sorry, baby… Do you still feel like you’re going to throw up?” He asks as his eyes never leave your face. Your head is still tilted back, and your eyes are closed.
“No.. I think it passed for now.” You reply quietly, taking the small moment of reprieve that your ovaries decided to give you.
“C’mere, princess.” Choso mumbles lowly, and he scoops you into his arms bridal style before standing up. “Let’s get you into bed, yeah? I’ll get you some pain medicine and your heating pad.”
“Mmm.. love you, Cho.” Your voice is muffled against his shoulder.
“Hey Yuu, don’t worry about that water, kay? I’m gonna get her to bed. We’ll finish the movie maybe sometime next week.” Choso calls out to his brother that is miraculously still in the kitchen.
Yuji was cowering in the kitchen with his ears covered because he heard you say you were going to throw up, and his emetophobia started acting up.
“Great! See you later!” He shouts as he sprints out the house, getting as far away from there as possible.
MEGUMI
Visiting Gojo in his vacation home was something you’ve been looking forward to for months now. Gojo owned a vacation home up towards the snowy peaks, and he invited you and Megumi to come up there and stay for a week during the winter.
You had planned so many fun activities to do with Megumi like snowboarding, skiing, or building a snowman.
Not to mention the thought of cozying up to your boyfriend in front of a fireplace sounded like exactly what you two needed after these past few stressful weeks.
The only kicker was the morning you two were set to leave, you started your period.
Trying not to panic, you packed a whole box of tampons and pads, and you packed like 15 extra pairs of underwear… just in case.
It would be fine, right? Maybe you and him could just spend more time cozied up rather than being out in the snow. Besides, Megumi didn’t really care what you two did. He was happy with whatever you picked out. As long as you two were together, he’d be fine with whatever activity.
You just had to make it through an eight hour car ride…
By hour two, your entire body is screaming at you. Your lower tummy feels like it’s on fire, and the pain is shooting through your back. No matter how many times you shift, you’re not comfortable.
It’s hot in the car, but then, it’s too cold. You’re so damn uncomfortable that you’re nearly in tears.
After your nth time shifting in your seat, Megumi finally speaks up. “Are you already that antsy? We’ve barely started..”
“No, I…” You wince before slightly doubling over in the passenger side seat. “I’m just cramping a lot.”
“Shit, really? Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks as he glances over at you with a look of concern. He’s well aware of how severe your periods can get sometimes. He’s taken care of you enough times to see exactly how much pain you’re in.
“I thought I could power through.” You sniffle, instantly feeling guilty for putting a damper on the trip.
“Hey, hey..” Megumi reaches over and runs his fingers through your hair. He keeps his other hand on the steering wheel — trying his best to drive safely and comfort you at the same time. “It’s alright. You’re really hurtin’, huh?”
“Mhm…” You quietly hum in agreement, and you lean your head on Megumi’s hand.
Without saying another word, Megumi takes the next exit, and he drives for a minute, ignoring your questions. He then pulls into a fancy looking hotel before putting the car in park.
“Stay in here for just a second, yeah? I’ll be right back.” He presses a quick kiss to your forehead before leaving the car and walking into the hotel lobby.
A few minutes pass before he returns to the car. By the time he’s back, you can already feel a migraine starting to kick in.
“Can you walk, gorgeous?” He asks tenderly as he unbuckles your seatbelt for you,
“Yeah — I can walk..” You reply in a pained voice.
“Alright. Let’s go in here. I got us a room.” He offers his hand, and he helps guide you out of the car before he grabs both of the suitcases.
“What..? What about Gojo?”
“He can wait. Your health is more important. It’s not like his vacation home will disappear over night. We’ll see how you feel about driving some more tomorrow. If not, we’ll turn back around and head home.”
“Are you sure..? I don’t wanna ruin the trip.” You sniffle before rubbing your face. Your stomach starts to cramp up again, nearly making your knees buckle. Megumi’s hand rests on the small of your back, guiding you into the hotel lobby.
“I already told you, gorgeous. I don’t care what we do. I just want to be with you.”
SUKUNA
Sukuna could smell the exact minute your period started. Blame it on him being a curse.
He avoids you like the plague when he knows you’re bleeding because he truly believes that he will only make your pain worse. He knows he’s not the nicest, so he just tries to stay out of your way.
It’s definitely not because he’s terribly afraid of women who can bleed for seven days straight and not die.
“Ryo?” Dammit. You caught him.
“Yes, woman?” He reluctantly turns to look at you. You were wearing an elegant dress that he usually loved to peel off you before completely ravaging you.
“Are we… not doing tithe today..?” You ask with a small frown. You had gotten dressed up for the purpose of addressing yours and Sukuna’s subjects.
“No… I’ll hold tithe next week.” He nods his head. Truthfully, he had concerned himself so much with avoiding you that he had forgotten all about tithe.
“But… you always do it on the first of the month..” You’re nearly in tears. Why was he avoiding you? Did he not want to be seen with you? Was he embarrassed of you now? So many insecure thoughts and high-running emotions.
Sukuna’s literally sweating. What the fuck did he say to make you upset? “Why do you cry, woman? Don’t cry. I didn’t realize tithe was that important to you. We’ll have tithe right now.��
“You don’t love me!” Fat tears are running down your cheeks. Your hormones making you feel like the worst person on planet earth right now.
“Who the fuck said that!?” Now Sukuna’s shouting too. This is a mess. He just wants you to not bleed and to not be sad.
A moment of silence between the two of you allows him to reflect for a moment. He looks at you as you’re just looking up at him with big teary eyes, and he quietly sighs before pulling you into a hug.
“Let’s go do this tithe, and then, you can explain to me what I’ve done to make you feel so down.”
Your mood changed just as fast. Maybe he did really love you! You sat on his lap at he was sitting on his throne. Curse after curse would come up and give whatever they could spare to the king as tithe.
You were sweet to each and every one, making sure to compliment each unique ‘gift’ that was bestowed upon you two. Truthfully, the curses loved having you as a queen, but even they were avoiding you today. They could smell your menstrual period as much as Sukuna could.
If you weren’t so focused on your cramps, you’d be a bummed out because now your subjects didn’t even seem to like you as much.
The king’s second pair of eyes darted towards you as soon as he could hear your breath shifting, but you still wore a smile. He decided not to question it.
But when you started to grip onto the throne and his arm tightly, your face was pale, and you could barely manage to speak, he immediately ordered everyone out.
“Alright, that’s enough. Get the fuck out.” He barked, and curses went scrambling everywhere. Hell, even Uraume took that as a direct order.
“What ails you, human?” He asks as his full attention is on you now. You’re practically a mess in his lap from the pain — feeling like you might throw up or pass out from how bad it hurts.
“Cramps.” You answer Sukuna lowly, and you try your best to breathe through them.
“How do I make them go away?” He asks, spoken like a true man… always wanting to fix everything.
“Sometimes a heating pad helps…” You wince as you can feel nausea bubbling up from how much pain you’re in.
“You said heat?” Sukuna asks as flames coat his hand.
“Not that much heat-!” You whine and shift in his lap before the flames dissipate.
“Make up your mind, woman.” He grumbles before he rests his palm on your lower tummy. His hand was still very warm from the flames, and you instantly ease in his lap.
His eyes stay fixated on you while you rest on his lap quietly, and he ever so carefully starts to rub your stomach. He finds your behavior very much cat-like. Too bad he really didn’t like cats — too unpredictable.
“How do I keep this from coming back?” He questions more to himself than to you.
“Pregnancy.” You murmur to him, half-asleep due to the immense amount of relief you felt.
“Great. I shall get you pregnant then.”
“What.”
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youvebeenlivingfictional · 10 months ago
Text
reunion
Pairing: Art Donaldson x Reader
Rating: Explicit - 18+ only. minors, please get off my lawn.
Notes: Not beta-read because when is it ever.
Length: 4.5K
Warnings: Slow burn; unrequited love; angst; yearning; divorced Art Donaldson; oral sex (female receiving); vaginal sex; safe sex
Summary: It wasn't that Art Donaldson was the one that got away. It was more like Art Donaldson was the one that never really knew you existed.
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"Did you hear Art Donaldson is supposed to be here?"
The question is whispered behind you and makes your hand freeze in its signing. You're half-bent over the table at reception, fingers tight around a pen as your mind is jogged.
No way was he turning up, that's what Anne had said.
Tashi will be there, she's the head of the goddamn reunion committee, the ink is still wet on their divorce—that's what Anne had said. Hell, she'd sworn it.
So what the hell is he doing here?
The sound of your name jogs your attention and you manage to finish signing in. You straighten, taking up your name tag and haphazardly slapping the adhesive onto your top. You need a drink, and quickly. You're halfway to the bar before you feel someone wind their arm through yours.
"Okay, I know you didn't wanna come—"
"Anne."
"And I so appreciate you being here so that I didn't have to come alone—"
"Anne—"
"But I got some news and it's going to be a little shocking so I think you should hear it from me—"
"I know he's here."
"What?" Anne freezes, her arm dropping from yours. You turn to see her looking stricken, her cheeks pinking with panic and embarrassment. You sigh softly, glancing around your fellow alumni. Less than half of them look familiar; your eyes catch on the odd face before you realize that you're inadvertently looking for him.
"Look, there are, like...Five hundred people here, alright?" You add. "I probably won't even see him."
"We can go."
"Look, we made the trip, we're here, we may as well stay. It's fine, okay? We're all adults here! It doesn't matter!" Your insistence is chased by a slightly hysterical laugh. "It was, like, a hundred years ago."
"...You're sure?"
"I am positive."
Positive that you need a drink, and positive that you're going to regret agreeing to stay.
--
It wasn't that Art Donaldson was the one that got away. It was more like Art Donaldson was the one that never really knew you existed.
You were friends, sure. You palled around, had a few classes together, hung out at a few parties—but he was so in love with Tashi Duncan that you'd never made his romantic radar. You'd forced yourself to believe that that was for the best, that you didn't need his love or romantic validation to be happy. But you couldn't pretend that wanting him didn't sting.
He'd had a couple of girlfriends while you were at Stanford, but you could always feel, always see that they were never really his priority. It was Tashi, then tennis, then them.
The two of you had kept touch a little after college, but you'd pushed yourself to move on. Conversation had begun to fade, and when he hadn't tried to keep it up, you had resolved to let him go.
You'd avoided his name in the news as much as you can, but it had been hard. He was on billboards, packaging, tv—it was like you couldn't escape him.
Want melted to sadness; sadness shifted to annoyance; annoyance hardened into disdain. You couldn't see his likeness or hear his name without rolling your eyes. It wasn't his fault, of course, but the prospect of running into Art fuckin' Donaldson made you queasy.
Still, you put on a brave face for Anne, forcing your focus into conversation.
It's a struggle to keep your gaze from seeking him out. You take each sip with a little white lie, convincing yourself that you're looking to make sure you can avoid contact. You spot Tashi a couple of times, but you don't go out of your way to say hello. She's surrounded by a cloud of people—taking pictures, signing programs and name tags and old Duncanator shirts.
When Anne insists on going to say hello, you force a small smile.
"You, um—you go ahead," You nod, taking a couple of steps back. "I'm gonna get some air."
Anne's dark eyes flit over you questioningly before she blessedly lets it go, nodding and going on her way. You turn, swiping a fresh drink off of a passing waiter's tray as you leave.
It takes a few moments for the buzz of conversation to clear from your head. You take a gulp of the prosecco, wrinkling your nose. It's a little sweeter than you usually like, and doesn't mingle well with the three other drinks that you've downed. Tashi's not going to find your lack of presence or greeting conspicuous; you'd been cordial and on speaking terms in college, but the two of you had never been close.
Damn, but it's chillier outside than you thought it would be. The reception had been so warm, so crammed with people. Paired your head being near-permanently on a swivel, you hadn't realize how hot and tense you'd been.
You frown at the waft of cigarette smoke that catches your nose. Who the hell is still smoking in this day and age—
"Are you hiding, too?"
Maybe you can feign that you didn't hear him—that the sound of his voice didn't jog a hundred memories and trigger a flurry of butterflies. But before you can stop yourself, you turn, the words, "I thought you quit smoking," tumbling out of your mouth.
Art's smile widens as he draw the cigarette back from his lips, a stream of smoke pushed out of the side of his mouth.
"I did. Quit quitting, though." He takes one more puff before he flicks it away, drifting closer. "Hi."
Hi, like it's not the first time you've seen him in the better part of a decade. Hi, like neither of you are oceans from where you where when you last saw one another.
"Hi," You manage. He doesn't hesitate to draw you into his arms; he seems to almost do it without thinking. You only allow yourself a moment of resistance before you raise and curl your arms around him. The clean scent of his pressed jacket and woodsy cologne are muddled with smoke. The fingers of one if your hands curls covetously in the fabric of his jacket as his palms smooth gently over your back. You hear him draw in a deep breath, feel him hold it, and then release it with a soft hum.
"How the hell are you?"
Probably better than you are these days.
You shrug a little, mumbling, "Fine."
He draws away, eyes skating across your face.
"You don't sound so sure about that."
"I'm sure."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm."
You can feel him winding up for another pass at it, but you hold your glass out before he can. His fingers brush against yours as he drains it.
"Why are you hiding?" You ask. He shrugs, nods toward the door.
"It's a lot in there. I forgot what these events are like."
"People wanna congratulate you. They're proud."
"Are you?"
"I am, but I'll hold off. Don't wanna crowd you."
Your attention is drawn from Art's smile as you hear someone clearing their throat over the speaker system inside:
"If we could have the reunion chairpersons to the stage, please!"
You glance toward Art and find him fidgeting, his thumb smoothing across his bare ring finger.
"…Do you wanna go back in?" You offer. He considers before he says, "Wait here."
You watch curiously as he darts inside, and are stunned when he reappears a moment later. You just barely catch a glimpse of the bottle of champagne clenched in his fist before he rests his other hand on your lower back, steering you away with an urgent murmur of, "C'mon."
--
"I'm surprised you came," You tell him. Art doesn't look at you for a moment, and you take the chance to lean back against the hard plastic seat. He's as beautiful as he was the last time the two of you were together, the night before graduation—practically in the same seats. You don't know if he was thinking about that when he'd led the way into the stands, chosen where to sit. Maybe it was pure muscle-memory.
Either way, you don't know how long the two of you have been sitting out there, knees bumping, passing the bottle back and forth. You take in his profile—the slope of his nose and cut of his jaw; the bob of his adam's apple as he swallows.
"My therapist said it would be good," He finally admits. "Told me I needed to get out more, start getting back into events, work at the foundation...What about you, huh?" He turns, brows raising. "You always told me that you hated this stuff."
You're surprised he remembers.
"I do hate this stuff, but," You shrug. "Anne didn't want to come alone."
"You're a good friend. I never forgot that." He sits up and passes the bottle back to you. "What happened to us, huh?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why did we stop talking?"
I couldn't keep begging for scraps of attention.
"I don't know," You deflect. "Guess we just lost touch. It happens."
"I shouldn't have let it happen to us."
You look down at the bottle, sweeping your finger across a slipping drop of condensation.
"You were busy."
"You weren't?"
"Not in the same way," You laugh self-consciously.
"What were you busy with then, huh?" He shifts, thigh pressing against yours. "You used to always say you'd uh—burn out by twenty-six."
"Yeah."
"Did you?"
"Oh, it didn't take nearly that long."
"What!" He laughs. "What the hell happened?"
"I don't know what to tell you, man. A girl can only take a soul-sucking marketing job for so long."
"So what do you do now?"
"Still in marketing, but I'm a manager, so. Still soul-sucking, but making a little more money."
"You like it?"
"God no, but I don't know what else I would do." You pass the bottle back.
"Could find something for you at the foundation."
You wrinkle your nose, shaking your head as Art sputters a laugh, asks, "What?"
"Don't do that, Art."
"Don't do what?"
"I don't need, you know—"
"We could use you—"
"You don't even know what I do at work."
"I bet it's great—"
"You don't even know if I'm a good worker—"
"Sure I do, I know you."
"No, you don't!"
You know it's a mistake the second it leaves your mouth. Art's smile wavers as he leans away again.
"I just mean—" You try.
"I know what you mean. It's been a long time."
"...Yeah, it has." You take the bottle back, drawing deeply from it before passing it back. "I should get going. I'm sure Anne's looking for me."
"Sure."
You don't say goodbye or tell him that it was nice to see him. You just make as hasty a retreat as you can without tripping over your feet.
--
@ a_donaldsonofficial requested to follow you. 3h
You're not sure what surprises you more—the follow request or the message in your DMs: Dinner?
--
His groan is sinful and low, and makes you rethink ever losing contact with the guy. Under the warm glow of the diner's lights, his eyes slip shut, fingers tightening around the bun.
"...When's the last time you had a burger?" You finally manage to ask.
"I can't remember." He admits it through the mouthful, and you don't begrudge him the couple of flecks of food that land on the table. You smile, plucking up a couple of fries.
"Art?"
"Mm."
"Why'd you ask me to dinner?"
Art sets the burger down as he swallows, taking off his napkin to clean off his hands.
"I was thinking...About what you said at the reunion."
"Mhm."
"About me not knowing you. You're right. But you know what?" He presses on before you can process your surprise. "I don't think you know me, either."
You think for a moment, brows furrowing. He's right. You know the image of Art Donaldson that's been projected to you over the years—on tv screens, in magazines, in online clips.
"...I don't think I do," You agree.
"Figured we should fix that. Catch up, fill each other in on what we've missed."
"Okay."
"So, after college..." He trails off, waving his hand. "Fill me in."
"Moved to New York."
"Uh-huh."
"Working in marketing."
"Burned out before 26—"
"Yeah, hit my capitalistic peak at 23."
"That fast?"
"I mean, that's the last time I remember giving a shit about work, so. Yeah."
"Relationships?"
"...A couple," You admit.
"Serious?"
"Yeah. One."
"Married?"
"No. Engaged." His eyes drop to your bare left hand, and you hurriedly tuck it into your lap. "Formerly engaged."
"What happened?"
"It just didn't feel right. I don't think either of us were ready."
"...Was it anyone I knew? I don't remember you dating much at school."
"Guess I didn't."
"You weren't shy."
"Well no, but—"
"So what was it?"
"I had the worst crush on you, dude!" It's another mistake, but where the last one seemed to make Art retreat, this one leaves his gobsmacked. His eyes widen, mouth opening in a wide smile.
"You what?"
"Oh, kay, you know what—"
"I had no idea!"
"I was very subtle."
Art leans back in the diner booth, watching you openly. You can see the gears turning in his head, and you wonder what he may be remembering, holding up and twisting about in this new light.
"...Huh," He mutters.
"You can feel free to forget that at any time."
"I don't think I will...I wish I'd known."
You consider for a moment before you shrug. "I don't know. I'm kinda glad that you didn't."
"Really?" His brows knit with confusion. "Why?"
"I don't like coming second, Art."
Art nods slowly, and you see something tight pass across his face before it's smoothed away again.
"You know what?" He smiles bitterly. "Neither do I."
You nod toward his plate.
"Your burger's getting cold."
--
"So, uh..." Art clears his throat as the two of you take slow, drifting steps to your car. "I'm gonna say two things, and I don't want you to think that they've got anything to do with what you said earlier."
You know exactly what he means, but you just grumble, "I said a lot of things earlier."
"I think we both know which one I'm talking about."
"Uh-huh. So what's up?"
"...I wanna see you again."
"Okay."
"But things are a little...Messy right now. Tashi and I are working on getting Lily into a regular rhythm and it's harder than we thought it would be."
You lean back against your car, tucking your hands into your pockets.
"Mhm...I hesitate to ask."
"Yeah."
"How does this have to do with what I said earlier?"
"I just don't want you to think that this is—"
"A consolation prize?"
"Something like that."
"Whatever you need to do to get in a good place with Lily is fine, Art, you don't need to justify that to me."
"Even if it means you come second?"
You tip your head to the side, pursing your lips. "It's different when it's your kid. I meant that I didn't want to be second to—You know."
"...Yeah," He mutters, looking at his feet as he takes another foot forward. "And for the record, I was thinking of asking you out again by the time we sat down."
"You could've changed your mind."
"I didn't. And I don't want to."
You smile, nodding. "Well I don't want you to, either." You straighten up as you fish into your bag for your keys. "Call me the next time you're in New York."
"Sure."
You reach out, cupping his cheek and leaning in, pecking his cheek. You pull away, smiling at the flush creeping across his face.
"Goodnight, Art."
"Night."
--
It isn't easy at first. Messages are far and few, mostly how are yous and how was your days. You think that as nice as the little swell of contact has been, that's all it'll be—but the two of you both start to really try. The odd text becomes the weekly phone call. Weekly phone calls become daily FaceTimes. On the nights when he has Lily, they're late, usually when you're getting ready for bed. On the nights when he's on his own, the two of you eat dinner together and chat over your calls. It isn't always perfect, but it's more than you could've anticipated from that dinner a couple of months ago.
--
"She down?"
"Yeah."
"Are you in a hotel again?"
"...Yeah." Art seems to admit it grudgingly, and you smile a little as you take up your toner and a cotton pad.
"There's nothing wrong with leaning into it if it's working," You argue. "And not to be that bitch, but you're not exactly broke."
"Might be if she keeps ordering room service and movies on-demand."
You laugh softly, turning your attention to your reflection as you swipe the toner across your face.
"How's your day been?" Art asks.
"Fine, standard. I had to fill out an assessment ahead of my annual review."
"When's that?"
"End of the week."
"How do you feel about it?"
"Mm," You shrug reaching for a serum. "Fine, I guess. I'm doing okay, my team's hitting their targets."
"You're doing better than okay."
"Art."
"You are."
"Well. Thank you for that." You glance over as he goes quiet, catching a glimpse of him as you smooth the serum into your skin. You raise your brows at the sight of his gentle, warm smile. "What is it?"
"You're beautiful."
Your face goes warm at the compliment, and you bite the inside of your cheek to tamp down your wide, idiotic smile.
"You are tired, huh," You deflect.
"I mean it."
"...I know," You murmur, reaching for your moisturizer. "Tell me what you got up to today."
"I had a meeting at the foundation. We're starting planning for the gala."
"Oh yeah? Have you done them before?"
"We've had three before, but I was usually playing or training, so I haven't been as involved in the planning."
"How's it been?"
"We're still in the preliminary stages, but it's been interesting, you know, seeing how the pieces come together before I usually see them."
You nod, picking the phone up from the mirror holder and heading into your bedroom.
"Where are you gonna have it?"
"We're still scouting locations...As a matter of fact," Art adds, "We're considering a few in New York."
"Oh?"
"I'll be down there for at least a few days, and I wanna see you."
You grin bashfully as you climb into bed, settling against your pillows.
"I wanna see you, too. Are you gonna, um—I mean, is Lily gonna be with you?"
"No, it'll be Tashi's weekend."
"Okay, cool. Just wanna make sure I don't mess up your time."
"I appreciate that." Art's tongue swipes across his lower lip, eyes sweeping across your face. "I gotta say..."
"Mmm?"
"I'm looking forward to seeing your apartment."
"Oh, really?" You chuckle. "Why's that?"
"It'll be interesting, that's all. I mean, you already take me to bed every night."
You laugh, covering your eyes as you groan, "Oh, god, shut up!" as Art chuckles.
"Let me know when you're free," You add. "Your schedule's gonna be weirder than mine."
"Yeah, I will, as soon as I know what it is." You watch as Art lays down, propping his phone up on the nightstand. "...Can you stay on?"
"Yeah," You soothe, setting your phone on the nightstand in suit. "Until we fall asleep."
"Okay," He murmurs. The two of you settle in on your sides, watching one another on the phone.
"Night, Art."
"Sweet dreams."
--
The restaurant is picked. Your nails are done, your hair is done; you get a new dress, new shoes, a new bag. You're going to have an amazing night—a good dinner, a great conversation, and, if you have any luck, an amazing good night kiss.
--
You know the minute you see him that you're not making it to the restaurant. Art's eyes sweep over you in covetous wonder when you open the door. He closes the gap between the two of you, drawing you into his arms, and this time you go without a second thought. He presses his face into your neck, letting out a gentle hum at the scent of your perfume. The tip of his nose trails up over your jaw, his lips brushing the corner of your lips as his forehead rests against yours. He sighs as you draw in a nervous breath, and he sways in, lips pressing to yours.
You raise your hand to cup his neck, shivering as his hands smooth over your hips. He guides you deeper inside, blindly reaching back and shoving the door shut behind you as you fling your purse toward the bench in your entryway. His kisses grow hungrier as he steers you down the hall. You slip your tongue along his, smoothing your hand up to grasp his hair. Your fingers fumble with the buttons on his shirt, exposing more of his pale, muscled chest to you. He slides down the zipper on the back of your dress and leans away just long enough to draw the dress up over your head. His eyes sweep across you, taking in your lingerie.
You hook your thumbs under the band of your underwear, giving them a teasing wiggle as you back further away from him. You expect him to follow, but he steers you back against the wall, dropping his head to suck hot kisses along your neck and down to your chest. He yanks one of the cups of your bra down, taking your nipple into his mouth. You bite your lip, tipping your head back against the wall and whining as he slots his knee between your thighs. You roll your hips down against the hard muscle as he laves and teases your nipple, reaching up to thumb and tweak the other.
"Art—Mm, god that feels so good."
He groans against your skin, trailing his kisses further down as he lowers himself to his knees. You look down as he curls his fingers around your panties—and waits. You smile softly, nodding, murmuring, "Please?"
Art grins, pressing a kiss to your hip before he gently eases the fabric down, waiting for you to lift your feet so he can fling them away. He leans in, swiping his tongue across your aching clit. Your knees would knock if he wasn't wedged between them. You draw in a shallow breath, letting your head tip back as he draws your leg over his shoulder. You shiver at the feeling of the chilly air against your heated, slick flesh. He nuzzles and laps against your cunt, taking each tip of your hips in stride. His hand smooths up your trembling inner thigh, giving your ass a gentle squeeze before he teases a finger into you. You whimper at the touch, unable to help the way your pussy clenches around it.
Art groans at the feeling, turning his head to smear his lips slips against your hip.
"Goddamn," He breaths against you.
"More."
You feel more than hear his gentle chuckle as he eases another finger in.
"Need it bad, huh?"
"You have no idea."
"I'm getting a pretty good idea." He turns his head, leveling a sucking kiss to your clit that makes you cry out. You tighten your grip on his hair as he pumps his fingers harder, curling and scissoring them as he pushes you closer to the edge.
"Art—Mm, god, fuck, yes—Yes—" Your toes curl in your shoes as your hips rabbit down against his face and fingers, chasing the swell of your orgasm. You look back down as he draws back and find his lips and chin shining with your juices.
"Bed," He urges.
"You can fuck me right here."
Art laughs, standing and smoothing his hand over your thigh.
"We're doing this right."
"We could be doing this right...." You slid your hand down his chest to palm his cock through his pants. "Here."
You grin as Art's eyelids flutter, his dick twitching against you.
"Bed," He insists again.
It isn't far to go, and the two of you are entirely bare by the time you get there. You scooch back onto the bed, spreading your legs as he rolls on a condom. He's over you a moment later, and you watch the bulge of his biceps as he braces his hands on either side of your head. You bite your lip as you feel the brush of his cock against your entrance. You reach down, grasping his cock and guiding him closer.
You tip your head up, tongue teasing the seam of his lips as he eases into you. You melt into the mattress as he crushes against you, filling you completely. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, sliding your legs over his, as if you'll manage to fuse the two of you together. Art's tongue swirls around yours before he captures your lips in a kiss, rolling his hips slowly.
"More," You plead, but Art keeps his pace achingly steady, even when you try to pick up the pace.
"You feel so fucking good," He breathes, "Even better than you taste."
"Harder, Art, please, god damn, please," You whimper. He tips his head to the side nipping at the hinge of your jaw as he reaches down, hiking your hip up even higher. Your mouth fell open with a stunned moan as he presses deeper, the slap of his hips filthily filling the stifling air around you. You arch up against him, nails raking down his back as you feel the swell of another orgasm.
"Art."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm—Fuck, almost—"
"That's it." He sucks his fingers between his lips before he slips them between your bodies, swiping across your tender clit. You begin to close your eyes, but he tuts softly.
"Don't—Don't close your eyes—Look at me," He orders between breaths. You force yourself to focus on Art, taking in the flush on his cheeks, his almost dazed eyes.
"You, too—" You urge.
"Yeah—"
"Oh—yeah," You gasp, unable to keep your gaze on his you cum. You feel Art's hips slap roughly against yours before he slows, groaning low in his chest. You draw in a deep breath as your heart pounds in your chest, sinking back against your pillows as he settles down over you. You smooth your hand over his nape, smiling as he nuzzles against your shoulder, dropping tender kisses to your skin.
"...Art?"
"Yeah?"
"I think we're going to be late for dinner."
--
"You know, I've been thinking."
"You've been doing a lot more than thinking, mister," You mutter, and grin as Art laughs. You cuddle closer against his side, nuzzling into his chest as he tightens his arm around your shoulders.
"I'm glad I didn't know you liked me in college."
"Really?" You tip your head up, brow furrowing. "Why's that?"
"...I wasn't ready for you back then." He smooths his fingers along your jaw, eyes wandering your face contemplatively. "It's like you said, you know. You would've come second."
You nod, turning your head to press a kiss to his palm.
"I don't think I was ready for you, either," You admit. Art smiles.
"And you are now?"
"More than."
Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21
@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity
@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ;
@buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989
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ramonathinks · 1 year ago
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— LIVE NOW, THINK LATER (NANAMI K.)
warning: (18+) infidelity, car sex, creampie, small feelings (lolll).
“You look beautiful.” A familiar voice startled you. He couldn’t believe his eyes really, your beautiful skin glowing and your eyes twinkling.
“Oh, Kento! I didn’t think you’d make it,” You moved into his arms and he held you tightly, his fingers dancing across your waist.
You pulled away and smiled at him. He chuckled, “Wouldn’t have missed it.” But he wish he did. He hated how this tortured him and wound him up. He hated watching you be in love with someone else.
“I got you something.” He whispered, his fingers playing in your hair. He tried to remember to keep his distance. He could already hear the whispers around him, women judging and asking if you had “any sense at all” or decorum, to be with any other man than your husband right now.
Your husband who was too busy drinking and laughing with his friends to notice. But the women didn’t say anything about that.
“Oh really?” You asked, quirking a brow. “Lemme see it!” You jumped and clapped your hands so excited.
“I’ll have to take you away…” He licked his lips and did a devilish smile. He held up his index finger and walked towards your husband. “Mind if I take her away from you? No more than twenty minutes…” He asked, his tone annoyed as he looked at the man who just married you.
He waved Nanami off and continued back to his conversations. Nanami wanted to hurt him. He wouldn’t have let you go anywhere without him tonight. He wouldn’t have left you alone tonight.
He grabbed your hand and he whisked you away from it all. He took you to his car and looked around, making sure it was nobody near you both. He helped you inside, picking up the bottom of your long white wedding dress and carefully putting it inside.
“Why couldn’t you just wait for me? Huh?” He hated this. “I promised you and—“
“You promised me for years, Kento. Work was always a priority for you. I was tired of being second place.” Your words stung and he knew that it was true but he always figured that you’d stay. When you left he assumed you just needed some space, when you got a boyfriend he reassured himself that you’d come back…but when he saw the wedding invitations and even received one in the mail… he knew that he lost you.
He stared into your pretty eyes and caressed your cheek, “Why did you invite me then? Pity? I can already see how your life is going to be. Married for a year, pregnant with an inattentive husband who’ll fuck his co-worker more than he fucks you. He doesn’t even look at you and those vows of his? The embarrassment on your face told it all. You don’t love him…not how you loved me.”
You swallowed, “Kento… let’s not do this, here.” Your hands were shaky and your palms sweating. “You said you have a gift for me?”
He paused, thinking momentarily. Popping open the glove department and reaching inside, he presented a rectangular blue box with a scarlet red ribbon on top. “For you, I hope you like it.”
He heard you gasp, “A Tiffany tennis bracelet?” Your eyes were wide. “Do you know how expensive these are? Well — of course you do, you bought this one.” You did an awkward chuckle.
He already knew you would ask, when he saw your mouth open. “It was seventy-thousand dollars. I saw it, thought you’d like it and that was that. It’s the least I could do for you, baby.”
“Seventy— Are you insane? It’s beautiful but for that amount? I… you could’ve bought a house or… gosh… I barely even spent fifty thousand on this wedding.”
“Oh, so you really settled.” He muttered and to his surprise you laughed.
“I did.” You agreed with a strained smile and a sad look in your eyes. “Thank you for this… it’s so beautiful and I do love it, I always loved their stuff and I always hated that I left all my jewelry behind, all those years ago.” You released a heavy sigh.
“I still have ‘em. Could drop them off one day, maybe. Or… you could come and get them.” He said and you looked at him with narrowed eyes. He held his hands up in surrender, “No funny business.”
“Yeah right. I already know you brought me out here to try to fuck me.” He coughed in surprise at your words. “A present, really? That you had to take me all the way out here and not give me in front of everyone?”
“I didn’t want to embarrass your husband. That’s all. Nothing more. Honest.” He moved his hands to cover his hardening cock. “But… how’s the sex?”
“You’re that curious? I already told you I settled and you already know there’s nobody better than you.” You looked at him with heavy-lidded hazy eyes, your voice soft as silk.
He swallowed. “Divorce him and I’ll give you the wedding you deserve. I’d spend double the amount of that bracelet on you. You deserve the best, baby. I work and work because I didn’t ever want you to be comfortable living a simple life when I could give you more. I love you and there’s no one like you.” He took your hand and pressed it to his chest. “This has always been yours, it has your name on it and it forever will.”
You kissed him, it was too hot in his car to think about anything. You didn’t care that you were still in your wedding dress or that someone could see you. You just wanted him. He reached forward and put a tightening hand on your waist, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss.
His tongue sucked on yours and swirled inside. Your nails digging into his hair as you pulled him closer towards you. “I want it.” You whispered against his lips, kissing the side of his neck and licking a long stripe up. “Let’s go.” You motioned towards the back and he smiled.
Crawling to the backseat and he palmed your ass. “Naughty, naughty.” You giggled, drunk off something. Drunk off Nanami Kento. He joined you in the back, you pulled at his tie and he happily sighed.
Unbuttoning his pants before he began bunching up your dress, he slid down the thin panties you were and looked between your legs. “This for me?” He looked at you, his dark brown eyes full of pure lust. You were soaked, wetness covering your thighs and your lips stuck together with glossy strings of your essence. You nodded, unable to speak and he kissed you again. It felt like before, when you both started dating and how soft he always was with you.
He inhaled, your smell all over the place and he loved every second of it.
“Does he know that you like to be touched, right here? Or right there?” His fingers were simply dancing across your lower body, working you up just from small touches, but he wouldn’t slip them inside, much to your frustration. Your hips thrusts up a bit, begging for more before all of the warmth of his fingers pulled away.
He slid his pants and boxers down, staring at your soaked folds. His cock had a thick bunch of hair that was lightly trimmed and it looked prettier than you ever seen it, with creamy white precum gushing out of the tip.
He slid a hand down after gathering the small amounts of leaking precum, the lewd sounds of him jerking himself off filled the car and made you whine. “Please, hurry up.” Spreading yourself more so that he can see the cream between your folds drip to his seat. He muttered something quietly and pulled your dress up more, rubbing his cock up and down your slit, both of you hissing and gasping.
Your nails were digging into his forearm when he finally slipped inside of you, he groaned close to your mouth. You huffed, wrapping your legs around his, wanting him to fully be inside of you. When both of your pelvis’s were touching, hips flushed together. He felt you squeeze around him and more of your wetness squirted out of your pussy when he snapped his hips in a solid thrust.
“Does he know your body like me?” Even though you told him earlier, he wanted to know while he was pounding into you, holding up the sides of your wedding dress. His hips were moving dangerously fast now, making your titties bounce. Foreheads touching and his cock filling you up, your eyes rolled back.
“No, he—ah— he doesn’t. Never even made me cum.”
“Oh, so I have to make up for that, don’t I, baby?” He drags his cock in and out of you, the loud sounds of slapping skin made him even harder as he looked at your fucked out expression. Your legs were already shaking, so he added pressure by rubbing your clit in small circles. Tightening around him yet again and he smiled, “That’s my girl.” You rolled your hips, trying to push yourself even closer to your orgasm.
“Look at me. Remember who’s fucking you and who’s making you feel this good, right now. Got that?” He whispered in your ear, biting it playfully.
You felt so good around him, closer to heaven and he knew for this moment with him fucking you right now, he was dragging you closer to hell. Be he couldn’t care less, your tiny cunt creaming around him, your back arching and your toes squeezing.
Your pussy constricts around him and a stream of your cum drips down between the both of you. But Nanami doesn’t stop; he rolls his hips again and fucks more of that creamy wetness out of you. He presses your stomach and you squirm. “I’m gonna come inside of you, ‘kay?” You can’t talk anymore so you just moan and sigh, nodding your head.
Both of your hips bucking, grinding into each other’s pelvis’s, he cums. It’s heavy and you spasm around him, sucking him deeper inside and he shutters. “You feel so fucking good. Could do this all night baby.” He slipped out for a moment, looking at his cum soaked half hard cock, before he pushed back in. You gasped, pushing him back a bit to no avail.
“You love me don’t you, baby?”
“Always, Kento.”
no part two.
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khywren · 7 months ago
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it's time for some more astarion analysis~
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making this a separate post in case people wanted to reblog just the gifs on their own and don't care about the extra fluff. i'm certain this scene has been analyzed to the hells and back by this point, but when i was making this set something really stuck out to me and i wanted to throw my two cents in anyway.
this is the tail end of the mirror scene from act 1, where you catch astarion looking in the mirror and lamenting about not being able to see his reflection or knowing what he looks like anymore. and while that alone is sad enough, it gets SO MUCH WORSE.
if you express genuine interest in his predicament (i.e. asking him if he misses his reflection and what color his eyes were before he was turned), you get to see the mask slip. it's one of the first times in the game that he's not hiding behind his quick wit and silver tongue.
if you tell him you'll be his mirror, you can see the change in his demeanor immediately. his face softens, the cadence of his voice changes; you can literally hear the vulnerability in every word he says. huge props to neil and the rest of larian for making the distinction between these dialogue options, of course. it's the little details that really make moments like these shine.
but there was something else i noticed in the footage i recorded as well that i hadn't picked up on any of my other playthroughs. i've spent a lot of time staring at this man's face, especially while capturing idle animations for gifs and wallpapers, and most of the time it's what you'd expect, with minimal face movement, expressions changing, etc. most companions i record seem to behave the same way, with similar expressions/blinking/eye movement.
but just look at astarion's face here. this feels deliberately unique. he is SO anxious, so worried how you'll perceive him. the rapid blinking, the nervous darting of his eyes… it genuinely breaks my heart.
(tumblr will only let me upload one video per post, but just look at any other idle footage of him and you'll see the difference)
and the second you tell him what he thinks he wants to hear? that he's very attractive? he slips right back into his suave, flirtatious persona, and even praises you for complimenting his looks. even if you eventually ask him if all he wants is shallow praise, he still deflects and isn't completely honest with you.
note that if you choose to take the less compassionate route and simply tell them that he has a "very good face," he will still prompt you to tell him what you see when you look at him, and the delivery of the line is subtly but noticeably different and more guarded. similarly, if you poke a little too much fun at him by calling him old and draw too much attention to his mole, he gets very flustered and ends the conversation immediately. understandable, since he's relied on his appearance for so long, and hearing (even jokingly) that even that might not be something he can use anymore must be at least a little terrifying for him.
so naturally, you might think that by being truthful with him would perhaps net you a better result -- after all, you're telling him what he asked for, what you really see, that you see him as more than just someone to lust after -- but it doesn't. he actually seems a little upset if you choose those dialogue options. in that moment, he wants to know that you find him attractive, because he thinks that's all he's good for. because if you find him attractive, there's a chance that he could seduce you and use you for protection against cazador. i do think he also genuinely wants to know that there's so much more to him than just a pretty face, since that's a big theme of his entire story/romance arc, but that's not at the top of his priority list this early in the game. he's relying purely on instinct. he knows how to respond to people telling him he's attractive. accepting genuine compliments about the person beneath the mask? that's probably not something he's had much (if any) experience with in close to two centuries. he didn't have the luxury of being able to let anyone see who he really was.
all that to say that this interaction is really heartbreaking. he wants to be seen, wants to be understood and possibly loved, but at the same time he still thinks he needs to put on a front to ensure he can keep himself safe. watching him slowly start to unlearn those habits during the course of the game has been one of my favorite things about bg3 and a huge part of what's really endeared astarion to me as a character.
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svnflowerkae · 2 months ago
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How LADS boys reacts to Caleb's return
So...first time ever doing this type of thing and since I can't sleep and my mind keeps me on thinking about this...here we go! Also sorry if thare are typos/errors.
tw: MC can be read as reader, gn!reader, angsty, comfort, they boys are MAD (esp Zayne), mention of death, grieving, time skip (based on the story events).
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Sylus has been worried all day about you. He knew something off but he never insisted on letting you talk before you were sure. You've been pacing in his living room for awhile, your phone in your hands. You couldn't believe that the Official Linkon City Hall contacted you to confirm that Grandma and Caleb were officially dead. You whole life was falling about again, right in front of you, again.
As you put stop to go in circles, Sylus carefully approached you. He didn't want to make things harder than they were already were but he couldn't bear seeing you suffering. As he hugged you, you started to sob uncontrollably, trembling in his arms. Sylus kissed your head, swaying the two of you, trying to calm you.
"It's okay, sweetie. I'm here, let it all out". His hand caressing your check. His thumb taking away a few of your tears. You were so shocked that even if you wanted to talk, tell everything to Sylus, you couldn't. It's like your voice disappeared.
Sylus continue to kiss your head, caressing your face and giving you lots and lots of comfort. After a while you fell asleep on his chest.
Sylus didn't really knew Caleb and he just knew, from you, that you two were very close friends. He knew though that something was off and he was going to investigate it. If this Caleb was really going to be back he would make sure he never hunted you again.
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Rafayel the day he was aware of the possible of Caleb was on the defensive side. You talked about him a few times and Rafayel saw how you grieved about his death. Countless nights and days passed by before you could get yourself together, even a little bit to be a functioning human again. And countless were the nights and days were Rafayel spent his time beside you, even if that meant not painting at all. You were is first and for most priority and, at that time, he certainly couldn't leave you all alone.
At the news, Rafayel made sure you were always by his side. His protective side coming off and scaring everyone who was approaching you. He barely showed this side of him, but in this case? In this case he couldn't let a stupid, foolish human to be near you again, not after what he saw.
"Miss bodyguard, what about I paint something for you?" Rafayel asked, his cheerful self trying to make you smile. Your eyes were watching the distant sea, completely lost in your thoughts. But Rafayel didn't have to wait for an answer. Posing his head on your thighs he looked at the most precious thing in his life: you. Caressing your thighs and hands, Rafayel never stopped to stare at you and when you turn your gaze to him a smile was on your face. Your hands messed up Rafayel'a hair. A playful pout on his face.
But for Rafayel that was enough to know you acknowledge he was there for you.
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Xavier and you were cuddling on the couch, watching a film they were making on TV. Not to lie, it was a bit boring and Xavier was about to sleep when he heard a small sob coming from you. At first he was confused but then saw you with your telephone in hands, reading a message.
If weeks prior the Linkon City Hall had texted you that Grandma and Caleb were officially deceased, now, there was a possibility that, at least Caleb, was alive. You hoped for that dearly, your heart aching at the possibility of seeing your best friend. Xavier saw you were blocked on that screen for a long time, tears streaming down your face as your body subtly twitched.
Xavier hugged you, his head on the crook of your neck. He wasn't very good with words and he knew little to nothing about this Caleb and your relationship with him. You barely talked about the accident, too hurtful for you. Xavier kissed your cheeck many times, even biting it lovingly to make you calm down. He wanted to make sure you knew he was there with you and for you.
Whoever this Caleb was, Xavier would do anything to protect you. At the end, he was your Lumiere.
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Zayne knew this moment was coming, it was inevitable but after seeing you destroyed after the bomb accident he couldn't let him hurt you again. How could Zayne forget how you barely eat and sleep? How could he bear the sight of his loved one suffer again?
You been quiet for days, always going to the Hospital Zayne worked for. He knew you did this especially when something was not right. Zayne shift ended a few minutes ago and he let you into his studios. You two were in complete silence, the only sound in the room were you and Zayne chewing on your food.
Zayne felt so sorry but at the same time he was controlling himself. Seeing your face calmed him down a bit.
"How are you feeling?" He asked. He wasn't one to show easily his emotion, but he too, knew you since when you too were little. He didn't gain an answer from you, but, that was an answer for him. He tried to talk to you, comforting you but you seemed in another space. Getting up, Zayne sited on the chair next you. His hands now were taking yours, leaving kisses here and there. You sniffed and, after a long time, you finally looked at him. A small smile appeared on your face. Zayne smiled back.
If it was true that Caleb's was really alive, he would make sure that he could never be near you again.
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beomqu · 20 days ago
Text
You wanted this, right? | Lee Jeno
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╰┈➤ pairings! : toxic ex!jeno x reader (jaemin x reader)
warnings! : making out, jealousy, rough sex, spanking, jeno loves your ass, mating press, jeno is a manipulator piece of shit
synopsis! : you tried to make him jealous, the need to prove he no longer has a hold on you, but jeno refuses to let go. no matter how hard you try to move on, he pulls you right back in. and the worst part? you don't really want to escape.
wc! : 2.5k
He wanted to get under your skin and he succeeded, but he had no idea you weren't going to back down, not without a fight. Fine. Two can play this game.
From that moment on, your only mission was to make Jeno regret everything, and you just knew the way. The best way to mess with him is through his jealousy issues and you're ready to play that card. Jaemin was at the party too, you knew because ever since the "break" he'd been texting you, filling the empty space Jeno left behind.
Supposedly it was a break, but judging by the way Jeno was making out with some girl, her blonde locks tangled between his fingers as she sucked bruises into his neck you figured you'd gotten your answer. If Jeno could move on so easily why couldn't you? Jaemin could be a lot of fun for you tonight.
The people dancing and jumping around made it hard to pass between them, but getting to the bar was main priority. Getting drunk was step one in your plan. Only problem was that Jeno and his company were stationed there. He would definitely see you.
Not ideal, at least, not yet. Not without Jaemin.
"Tequila," you ordered your drink, voice stern. A tequila is the way to start out.
While the guy was pouring your drink out Jeno noticed you just as he leaned in for another sloppy kiss with the girl pressed up against the wall beneath him. Only this time he didn't close his eyes and when the position let it he maintained eye contact. His lips moved skillfully, his arms caged her in, palms braced against the wall on either side of her head while her hands clung to his chest and neck.
You could almost feel him against your own lips, getting reminded of how he used to hold you and kiss you just like that. But the only thing you craved right now was the bitter taste of tequila, so when it was ready, you drank it and walked away from him without sparing him another glance.
Getting tequila drunk is the real party drunk. You can feel the bass in your veins, all you want to do is dance and scream the lyrics to the music. A few more shots warming up your system got you just there.
You quickly got a couple of shots in your system with the help of Jaemin and Jeno's other friends. All of them started off with the topic of your and Jeno's break, asking how you felt, if you were okay. But the way they invited you to many drinks, the way their touch lingered on you for a second too long told you all you had to know. They weren't mourning Jeno's relationship, it looks like.
Jaemin soon took all of your attention, any little thought of Jeno vanishing the more you looked into his pretty eyes, the more his hands gripped onto your waist. You couldn't restrain yourself, with your hand wrapped around him you pulled him close enough to kiss his neck. You exhaled against his skin, peppering the side of his neck with wet kisses, his collarbones, and any part of his skin you could reach with your mouth.
"Come on pretty," he murmured, voice thick with amusement, "My lips are up here."You haven't kissed anyone but Jeno in years. You hesitated.
"What's wrong?" he raised his eyebrow with a soft smile, "Need some help?" his finger brushed under your chin, tilting your face up to his.
Jeno easily made out with someone else and you're hesitating about kissing Jaemin. It's pathetic how it was hard for you to do the same, you can't let him win.
With the determination to win, you leaned in capturing Jaemin's lips between yours. He let out a low exhale as he eased into you, his hands sliding down to grip your ass. The warmth of his tongue, the way he melted into you, it was intoxicating.
The hunger, the rush of need felt with Jaemin had long been absent with Jeno. The kiss felt electric, your whole body easing into his, letting his hands roam around your body, his touch mapping out places that had gone untouched for far too long.
As you pulled back Jaemin looked dazed, captivated. His eye locked onto you like he couldn't look away from you, not even if he wanted to. You reveled in the way he craved you, showing you he wanted you.
You danced, body moving with the rhythm of the music, Jaemin's fingers intertwined with yours as he spun you around, laughter escaping your lips as he guided you back against him, your back flush against his chest. You continued to dance, grinding on him with the help of his hand guiding your hips. You reached back, fingers threading through his hair, pulling down for another sloppy kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth. Jaemin groaned into the kiss, his hands exploring your body. But you weren't the only one caught up in the moment.
You could feel Jeno watching.
His gaze was heavy, burning a hole through your body, watching how you moved against Jaemin. He mirrored your movements with the girl against him, his strong hands holding her, pulling her close but his eyes? They were locked onto your every move.
The girl ground against him, spun in his arms, even guided Jeno's hand on her chest but it wasn't enough. She couldn't hold his attention the way you could.Your pride pushed you further, you had to show Jeno he doesn't matter to you anymore.
You leaned up, lips brushing against Jaemin's ear.
"I want you, Jaemin." you whispered, voice laced with lust, "Need you so bad." his breath hitched as your nails dug into his skin.
Jaemin chuckled, the sound sweet but dark, "You asked so nicely, Angel. How could I ever say no to you?" his voice dripped with something sinful, but it was the way his finger slipped under the hem of your dress that sent a shiver down your spine.
"I'll get us something to drink and then we can find a quieter place?" he spoke against your shoulder, pressing a soft, teasing kiss on your tender skin before your hands slipped out of his grip.
And just like that, you were alone.
Alone except for the pair of eyes which still lingered on you, only this time closer than before.
"Enjoying the party?" Jeno spoke through gritted teeth, towering over you as he looked down into your eyes with a piercing gaze.
"Are you not?" you shot back, look unwavering.
"Not anymore."
"Oh? So now I'm bothering you? Don't you have something better to do?" you turned, ready to walk away. He wasn't about to ruin your night, not when Jaemin showed you what it was like to be wanted unlike him.
"No, I don't."
He reached for your hand, stopping you in your tracks, his hold was firm, almost desperate. "You know there's nothing better than you."
You scoffed, "That didn't seem like it five minutes ago when you had your tongue down someone else's throat." He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him, "She's not a better kisser than you," Jeno spoke with a low voice, lips inching closer to yours, "And I know Jaemin is not better than me."
As much as you wanted him to be wrong, he didn't lie. You should have fought back, pushed him away, and screamed at him to fuck off, but you didn't. Instead, you melted into him.
Your arms sneaked around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Just for a moment, you felt whole with him, his touch, his lips, even when you knew you shouldn't. His lips moved like they always belonged against yours, like they never left.
Jeno has way too much power over you, you shouldn't crave his touch and shouldn't have ever let him control you like this.
But God you wanted him.
He pulled back, and you thought you were dreaming, that he was never actually here, and you felt your world shatter again, until you felt a pull at your hand. Jeno's warm hand held yours like they used to, guiding you away from the crowd, up the stairs where there were less people. He didn't stop until he found an unoccupied room, locking the door behind you.
"Jeno-" His strong hand grabbed under your thigh, lifting you over his shoulder with ease, drawing a surprised yelp out of you. On the way to the bed he couldn't resist, he slapped your ass with his free hand and harshly bit down on your skin.
"Quiet." he shut you up before you could make a sound, throwing you on the bed. He didn't leave you a second to move he flipped you over and lifted your dress higher until your ass was on full display for him. Jeno's hand roughly threaded the skin on your butt before he kneeled down in front of the bed to press wet kisses over the faded red mark that his hand had left there.
All your attention was focused on him, not noticing as his hand quickly slipped your panties off you, only gasping as you felt his warm, wet tongue on your hole.
You sighed loudly, toes curling at the feeling. You whimpered out his name, his hand moving to spank you again before diving back between your cheeks.
With one finger he collected your dripping arousal before fucking it back into you, his digit curling inside of your tight pussy.
His mouth was occupied, but you wished he would talk to you. Wish he would say anything, apologize to you or just make you feel loved after leaving you for weeks with zero contact. But you didn't have enough willpower to confront him, not when he fingered you so good.
Before you could feel the knot in your tummy build up he stood up, leaving your wet pussy empty and unattended.
"Please Jeno..." he left your mind foggy, that was all you could whimper out.
He let out a low chuckle, "You want me to fuck you so bad it makes you look stupid." he was right, you were his dumb little toy. All it took him was a couple of words, and you threw yourself at him.
If you had more pride, you wouldn't be in this position, but instead, you gripped the sheets when you heard him unbuckle his belt.
"My stupid little girl." his voice was soothing and soft as he spread your cheeks, his tip lingering at your entrance. You bit your lips in anticipation and closed your eyes wanting to focus on him completely.
His cock slowly entered you, filling you up halfway through already, but he didn't stop until your hips were flush against his. Your eyes rolled back, and pained whimpers escaped your lips while you got used to his size again after weeks of not feeling him.
"Fuck, you're so big," you blurted out before you clenched your jaw, a shaky breath leaving through your nose.
You reached behind you and grabbed his thigh to stop him from moving, but he pushed your hand away. The bed squeaked as he put his right leg up on the wooden frame, both his hands roughly grabbing your hips, his weight pressing you into the mattress. The position made it easier for him to thrust into you and fuck you so hard it made your skin red.
"S-slow down," you begged while Jeno fucked you, moves coordinated and rough. He didn't listen, your words might have only encouraged him.
The tip of his dick hit your tight walls right where you needed it the most while his heavy thrusts created a contrast. It hurt so good.
"You thought you could get away with flirting with my friends, hmm?" one of Jeno's hand slipped from your waist to your head, pushing it into the mattress. Your moans became muffled by the sheets each time his dick hit your spot.
You couldn't reply even if you wanted to.
"Kissing with Jaemin right in front of me? What have you become? You're a slut now?"
"Fuck—"
"Answer me, Baby." a pained hiss escaped you as he took hold of your hair and pulled you up slightly, forcing you to arch your back.
You grabbed over his hand, hoping he would loosen his grip, "I only want you."
"Liar."
All you could hear from him was heavy breathing, he didn't let out another sound. The sound of skin slapping took over the whole room only a faint sound of music infiltrated through the closed door.
He let go of your hair, your head fell back into the mattress. As you looked behind you, Jeno's lips were pursed as if he was actively trying to keep in his noises. His neck glistened from the sweat, skin decorated with purple bruises that he got not even an hour ago. With each thrust, his moves became clumsy and desperate, you knew he was getting closer and so were you.
He leaned over you to angle his hips, making you almost scream as he hit your spots over and over, pleasure taking over your whole body. All you could do was close your eyes and take everything he's giving you.
"Oh god..." tears swell in your eyes, but he didn't stop.
"Fuck," he held his breath, selfishly chasing his own high, only using you for his pleasure.
You couldn't even warn him, the band in your tummy tightened and finally snapped, and you came all over his cock.
Your legs began to shake from overstimulation, still Jeno showed no signs if stopping yet.
"Fuck, Jeno..." he couldn't hold in his groans anymore, he thrust inside you a few more times before pulling you against himself and burying his dick deep inside of you. His muscles tensed up as he came inside you, filling you up completely. Jeno took a few moments to himself before he pulled out and collapsed on top of you.
A shiver ran down your spine as his cold finger traced your arm, his hold tightening around you. The air was thick, with everything left unsaid, both of you needing a moment to breathe before facing the inevitable.
"Baby," Jeno whispered softly, his voice almost hesitant, "I don't like seeing you with other men."
You let out a heavy sigh, too drained to argue with him, "I don't like seeing you kiss other girls either, but you broke up with me."
"I know." his grip on you tightened, his lips finding the spots he'd been rough with earlier, pressing gentle, remorseful kisses to your skin.
"I'm sorry, I want to be a better boyfriend for you."
"I love you."
Did he mean it? You weren't sure. But you loved him. And right now that was all that mattered.
You can't resist him, not even Jaemin can have your attention the way Jeno does.
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