#(trying to play it cool. Unsuccessful )

[xavieremix]

okay so the tags on that last post got me feeling those melon collies so i'm just gonna. tagdump in here. slightly sensitive topics? so uh. scroll down (or press J to jump to next post). or read my thoughts like the morning paper. sorry. cheers.

[snowluvvie]

FUCK AWFFF COLLEGE RODRICK

everybody gave you two the kind of “really, him?” “how’d he get her?” sidelong glances when you’d started dating in high school. you’d basically swooned over him the first time you’d met at school—but for most of your classmates, the way he’d chase people down to convince them to attend his band’s shows rubbed them the wrong way. most people would describe Rodrick as ‘desperate’—but they weren’t fucking him, so they didn’t know how truly desperate he was, did they? either way, it didn’t matter. you wanted him, you had him hook, line and sinker. you weren’t exactly upset that people weren’t trying to snatch your boyfriend from you—you got his shaggy hair that was always too long, his hands calloused from the drum sticks, his nervous smile that he tried to play off as a smirk. you got him. you liked it that way.

you went off to college together, and Rodrick looked different by the end of freshman year. he was different. he laughed at the frat boys and grimaced at the music they played at parties. sure, he’d always been into different stuff—but now he was confident about it. he liked his music. he liked his friends. he liked his band. and, of course, he liked you (doesn’t count though. that’s not controversial. everyone knows you’re hot.)

you noticed this change in confidence before anyone else did. before it showed in his eyes and his clothes, it showed in the way he grabbed your face to kiss you, tangled his hands in your hair, grinned into your mouth. it showed in the way his fingers dug into his hips when he was fucking you, the way he ran his mouth. it had always been “this is so hot” “i can’t believe i’m fucking you” “you’re so hot” with him. now, he was boldly moaning “you like that, huh? i can feel it” he chuckled at the way you gushed around him when he was buried inside of you, he loved it, and now he wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it.

people did notice him now, though. his new favorite bomber jacket did wonders for him, and his arms had gotten a little bigger underneath it. he wasn’t ‘hunky’ now, by any means, but in college people were a lot more forgiving of the eyeliner-and-unsuccessful-band thing. it wasn’t lame and desperate here, it was cool and niche. you two weren’t hot girl and “he makes me laugh” loser like they called you in high school—now you were hot girl and cool drummer boyfriend.

but even now that people actually come to his band’s dimly-lit club and coffee shop gigs, and buy some tees from the merch table, and giggle a little, waving their fingers and going “heyyy Rodrick, you were great this weekend!” when they walk past him on campus, it doesn’t really matter. you’re the one he searches for when he’s playing, grinning proudly at you in the crowd. you’re the one who sits shotgun in the band van, leaning on the center console while he tells you how pretty you’ve looked all night. you’re the one who passes out on Rodrick’s shitty dorm mattress with him, tangled together and attempting to kiss but failing because you’re both so exhausted, and the one who wakes up the next morning and watches him yawn and ruffle his hand through his dark hair, moving sluggishly through the dorm without a shirt and with eyeliner from last night still smeared on his face.

you’re the one he’s fucking—his people-pleaser desperate-for-validation tendencies are still very intact when it comes to you. his eyes still practically pop out of his head every time he sees your tits, he still has to squeeze his eyes shut when you dirty talk because the sound of your voice drives him insane, and he still rolls his eyes hard when you tell him that no, he can’t eat you out right now, you have to go to class. the audacity. at the end of the day, he’s your Rodrick, no matter how many other people are suddenly paying attention to him

[bubbless-s]

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆.Rain drops ₊˚.༄

Request: “Could you do slytherin boys + Pansy first time showering together?”

Masterlist

- ʚɞ genre: fluff+comedy

- ʚɞ warnings: a little suggestive

Tom Riddle

• Would put the water super cold but changes it when he sees that you’re freezing.

• Pins you on the glass door.

• Became slightly clingy after the shower?

• “Come here my darling.”

• Surprise surprises he let you wash his hair.

• Suddenly got urges to play with your ass.

• Lost his cool and asked why did it jiggle this much.

Mattheo Riddle

• Opposite of Tom he puts the water so hot that you almost fry.

• Uses all your expensive creams and products on his balls..

• Actually helps you with washing your body.

• Of course its an opportunity to touch you. Why wouldn’t he take it.

• Gets cocky and kisses your body while washing it

• Hands on your ass squeezing it as if its a stress toy.

• Without giving you love bites Mattheo isn’t Mattheo.

Theodore Nott

• Starts talking in Italian. Bro got so amazed he switched to italian dub.

• Can’t stop smirking it kinda looks stupid like a kid who just got their Christmas gift earlier.

• Singing contest with you and the shampoo bottles.

• Probably practiced his singing infront of the mirror to impress you or sum

• Kisses all over your collar bone.

• Would also help you with your hair like shampooing it and giving it a little massage.

• After the shower Theo would help you dry your hair.

Draco Malfoy

• WOULDNT let you touch his precious hair.

• Loud white girl 2016 music. (Also sings in your ear.)

• “Babe how do you not know the lyrics to señorita?”

• Hugs you from behind and lifts you up randomly.

• “Angel is the water fine for you?”

• Wants to kiss you under the shower to make if all romantic but as he was about to kiss you he um..slips.

• As a result you and Draco after the shower have a make out session. I don’t make the rules Draco does.

Lorenzo Berskshire

• Would be super duper careful and slightly shy since its the first time showering together with you.

• Kisses your whole face.

• Puts on music to ease the tension.

• After calmness comes,he scoops you up while singing some random songs he put.

• Would draw dicks the foggy glass door 😭

• Got confused why you have this much products and accidentally put shower gel on your hair thinking it was shampoo.

• “Love look Im literally Elsa.”

Blaise Zabini

• “GOD DAYUM.”

• Touches your hips and waist.

• Tons of small kisses while his hands rest on your hips for some unknown reason.

• Jokingly put the water on cold pretending something was wrong with the shower instead.

• Asks you stupid questions if you get shy.

• “Darling do you think fishes don’t know what wetness is because they always live under water?”

• Tried to snuggle up with you. (mission= unsuccessful)

Pansy Parkinson

• Is so excited to have her first shower with you.

• Would treat you like a royalty. Like she made up a new skincare routine for you in the shower.

• Queen Pansy would leave the water to your liking even tho she might not like it.

• Bought a bunch of new products to try out with you.

• “This shower gel feels nice on the skin but it doesn’t smell that good. What do you think sunshine? Do you like it?”

• If you DO like a product she will buy lots of it for you.

• Overall the showering experience with Pansy is 10/10.

[notarmedandnotdangerous]

+18 mdni! bucky refuses to say reader's name, and reader tries to get him to say it. unfortunately bucky switches the dynamics between him and reader, and reader ends up unsuccessful.. for now.

cw: sub!->dom!bucky, dom!->sub!m!reader, oral sex, handjobs (multiple), overstimulation

word count: >2.3k

a/n: maybe there'll be a part 2 ... you never know .. 😝 if you guys have suggestions, please do not hesitate to flood my inbox!!!!!!

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

you’ve recently saved bucky from a few sticky situations, and he slowly warmed up to you more. you’ve asked him to call you by your name multiple times, but he would rather die than say your name, and it confused you.

“you.. can say my name, you know that right?” the both of you just got home from another mission, you talked to him but he avoided your gaze and put his boots away in response. “or do you want a more forceful way? it’s like you need me to fuck it out of you or something.” you said absentmindedly, not knowing the effect you had on him.

“i don’t need you to lay it out for me, alright? like you do with everything else.” he shifted, eyes darting around the room before landing back on you with a glare. he sighed, running a hand through his unkempt hair as he leaned against the doorway. “let’s just.. forget you said that, okay?” his voice was a husky whisper, as he cleared his throat to regain control over the situation.

“i heard your breath hitch, by the way. hope you know that.” you turned away, walking to sit on the couch as you turned on the tv to watch the news, as usual. your casual remark sent a shiver down his spine, his heart hammered in his chest as he remained silent, unwilling to give you the satisfaction of an admission. he felt a familiar heat growing in his lower stomach, his cock starting to stir in his jeans, but he played it cool as he tried to will it away. you could hear every single hitch of his breath, but you stated quiet.

“fuck.” bucky gritted out, his voice strained as he felt his resolve crumble. “just.. just turn around.”

“that’s a start, well done. didn’t expect you to actually admit it.” you shrugged, not wanting to turn around just yet. you wanted to break his nonchalant facade, to make him ask for what he wanted. he couldn’t meet your gaze anymore, his eyes stung as he fought to regain his composure.

“what’s it to you?” he murmured, in an attempt to deflect the situation. “just.. do whatever you want.” the words spilled out before he could properly consider them. at this point, whatever he was doing was pointless, you’ve already seen through his act.

“yeah? and you’d let me?” you walked over to bucky and reached for his waist, wrapping your arm around his and bringing him to the couch. his entire body tensed as your arm wrapped around him. “wanna consider calling me by my name now, handsome?” he turned his head away and avoided the question. “guess i’ll really have to fuck it out of you.” you pulled him into your lap, making him gasp slightly. his hardened cock pressed against you, making you smirk teasingly.

“jeez..” he hissed, trying to squirm free but you just made him so weak. “you can’t just.. fuck me into submission like some puppet on a string.” his words came out breathless, almost pleading, despite him trying desperately to maintain a tough front. “it’s not that simple.” even as he protested, his hips shifted instinctively against you.

“we’ll see about that.” you let go of his hips, making him turn back to you immediately.

“what are you waiting for? weren’t you gonna ‘teach me a lesson’?” he asked softly, the tone of his voice betraying his current persona. the release of your grip threw him off balance, his eyes remained lowered, avoiding your gaze at all costs. “just.. do it already.”

“hm.” you grabbed his neck, leaning him forward, and tucking his head into the crook of your neck. the motion sent a shiver down his spine as embarrassment filled his system, his cheeks burnt with a flush that spread all the way down his neck.

“f-fuck..” bucky stammered, his voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. he squirmed slightly, not used to being so physically close to someone. you smiled, pulling his head back to kiss him gently. his eyes flew open in shock, before fluttering shut again as he visibly relaxed. he clutched at your shoulders, his mechanical arm whirring at the motion. when you finally broke the kiss, he gasped, his voice hoarse with desire as he gazed at you through heavy-lidded eyes.

“room, now.” he tried to get up from your lap, stumbling as his legs were weak from your relentless teasing. when the both of you finally got to your shared bedroom, he laid back on his elbows as he gazed up at you. you pressed your knee to his crotch, making him hiss out, his hands gripping at the sheets. “want my cock on your tongue, buck? maybe you’ll finally learn to say my name after this?”

“mmph.. yeah.. want it.” his words were barely a whisper as his mind glazed over with arousal. “please.. i’ll give you anything you want..”

“anything? even saying my name?” bucky avoided your gaze once more. perhaps he thought that he wasn’t worthy enough to have your name roll off his tongue. you whipped your cock out, tapping the tip on his lips, and his eyes almost rolled back at the feeling of it. “oh, you’re dumb already? i haven’t even done anything to you yet.”

“n-nothing to do with my smarts.. believe me.” he breathed out in a needy whisper, his tongue flicking out to lap at the glistening tip, savouring the salty taste of your pre-cum. “this handsome cock can dumb me up any day..” and with that, he wrapped his lips around your tip, sucking gently as he began to bob his head. he slowly took more and more of your cock in his mouth.

“holy fuck.. that mouth of yours.. you’re fucking filthy. had a lot of experience in sucking cock, haven’t you?” you grabbed his hair and slowly fucked into his mouth. you ended up fucking his mouth rougher though, making him drool all over as he hummed dumbly. saliva dripped freely from the corners of his lips, pooling on his chin before dripping onto, and staining his black t-shirt.

“mmph..” he mumbled, his voice muffled around your cock as his eyes rolled back. after a few more thrusts, you came in his mouth. your knees buckled as you slowly fucked his mouth to ride out your high, only stopping when you were on the verge of overstimulation. even though he swallowed as best as he could, some of your cum had already trickled down his chin. “tasted so good..” his words were slurred.

“mm.. fuck.” you pulled away, just to see bucky absolutely wrecked. his hair was a mess while tears and drool covered his face. you moved to sit back against the bed frame. just as you sat down, he took your cock in his hands to jerk you off, catching you off guard. “b-buck, stop that.” you tried to grab his wrist, but he sat himself on your stomach, weighing you down. “n-no, fuck..”

“hey, no backing out now..” he spoke, his hands wrapping around your still-soft cock, as he started to stroke you in a slow rhythm. “after all, i really.. really wanna see your face once more, when you cum.”

“w-wait.. can’t. slow down..” you grabbed at his wrist, helplessly kicking your feet against the mattress.

“oh.. i think you’re enjoying this though, don’t pretend like you aren’t.” he smirked down at you, making your breath hitch. you were sure he wasn’t this hot before. “but don’t worry, i’ll make sure to put that pride of yours back in its rightful place.. once you’re done giving me exactly what i want.” he murmured, before he leaned in and dragged his tongue against your neck. “relax, let me help you with this, hm?”

“i.. mm..” you gave up the moment his tongue was on your neck, how did he know it was your weak spot? you let your head drop to the mattress as you had no choice but to take what he was going to give you.

“much better.” bucky chuckled, tracing your cock in a way that made it twitch. “let’s finish what you started, shall we?” he leaned in, teasingly planting a kiss on the tip, before he dragged his tongue down your cock. .

“oh- oh, buck..” your thighs tensed in an effort to process the pleasure, as you reached for his hands. too bad he was sitting with his back facing you, and he was sitting on your stomach too, it was impossible to stop him now

“shh.. just relax. when i’m done with you, you’ll be pleased with everything that i’ll give you.” with a shit-eating grin, he focused on the underside of your cock, tracing swirles of pre-cum around the veins. normally, you’d have the strength to manhandle him, to throw him off of you, but with his hands on your cock, it was hard to even think, let alone have the strength to rip this man off you.

“w-wait.. stop please.. too much, b-buck.” you gripped bucky’s hips tightly, trying to push him off of you. you were wrecked, and it was all his fault.

“but it’s nowhere near enough just yet..” he muttered against your skin, he unbuttoned your shirt, letting his fingers trace around your nipples. “no.. no. i’m just getting started.” with that, he changed his pace, moving in long and slightly slower strokes now.

“oh fuck, fucking hell, buck.. uuh..” you let out a shaky whimper as you came again, and guess what? bucky turned around just to see your face when you came, your body going limp underneath him as your cock softened. “o-okay.. that’s.. need a break.”

“aw, is that all the fight you’ve got in you?” he had turned back around, and he nipped on the skin on your shoulder playfully.

“you.. fuck, ugh..” you let out a sigh, not used to cumming multiple times at once.

“shh it’s alright, i’ve got you.” he rubbed your cheek lovingly. “but next time, i expect you to put up more of a fight. resist at least a little, hm?”

“wait no.. i want more.. just.. i was supposed to be on top..” you were cut off with a nip to your earlobe.

“ah, but that’s where you’re wrong.” bucky teased, tracing a finger down your torso. “but i kinda do want to see what you’re like.” he let you flip your positions, now that you were strong enough to manhandle him.

“that’s more like it.”

[asxgard]

getaway car | [1/2]

Dr. Frank Langdon x f!Resident!reader

part two: twice

Requested

Summary: You and Frank have been skirting far too close to the line for some time. For the person with a partner, you let the line get far too blurry for anything appropriate.

[ My Masterlist ]

Anon Request: The idea was Frank and the reader having some sort of relationship where Frank is single (never married Abby) and the reader is in an unsuccessful relationship with her current boyfriend but cannot deny her feelings for Frank after working in the hospital together

Note: Hope you like it, anon!

…inspired by Taylor Swift’s Getaway Car? Hmm, cannot confirm👀

Word Count: 2k

Most of my works are 18+ due to general adult content.

Warnings: afab!reader, emotional cheating behavior, drunken stolen kiss👀😬, ANGST, foul language, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies, reader is in a grey area

not beta read

It had started as simple, light banter that eased into playful flirting. Totally harmless, you often told yourself, even if his stupid smirk made butterflies erupt in your stomach. Even when you lingered after shift just to share a small conversation.

It was wrong how close to the line you had begun to teeter toward, but you excused it in your head every time you thought of the chief resident. It was only friendly, only playful, never serious. You never saw him outside of work.

Andy wasn’t Frank and Frank wasn’t Andy.

Andy was good, reliable, nice, boring. He offered security during a time in your life you felt like you were collapsing. Steady, sure, safe. It should have been enough for you, but only a year into dating him, and you began to think about all the things wrong.

While he was understanding, he could also be pushy. Conversations had started to feel dull, lackluster, void of their usual flirtations. He didn’t even seem to notice when your attentions wavered, or when you felt off. Not like Frank did, anyways.

It was unfair, and you knew that. But Andy was the safety railing, a net incase you went under. You would hate to let him go over some silly work crush.

Andy was, however, spending more time with his friends, canceling dates last minute or going radio silent majority of the day. The most troubling thing, was the relief you begun to feel when he did cancel, to hang out with a coworker, or his friends. But it made it easier to fantasize about Frank.

“Here you are, sunshine.” Frank offered you a cup of coffee with a smile.

You looked at the coffee cup trying not to smile, “Aren’t I the one supposed to butter you up?”

Frank chuckled, “As your chief resident, I resent that. I don’t play favorites.”

You looked at the coffee, then back to him, raising an eyebrow, “Yeah? What did McKay and Mohan say? Collins?”

“Collins is co-chief, she doesn’t count. And, uh, well…alright, I was only trying to be nice, you were being mopey.”

“Me? Mopey?” You scoffed, “Did you even get yourself anything, Langdon?”

“Caffeine and I don’t get along.” He said, putting his hands on his pockets, bouncing back on his heels. “I think Robby would have an aneurysm if you mixed me with coffee.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” You chuckled, taking a sip. “But, thank you.”

He grinned, “Don’t mention it.”

You set the coffee down on the counter, and looked up at the board.

“Everyone is looking to go get drinks after shift. You should come.”

You looked back over at Frank, something dangerous crawling in your chest. Heat flushed your cheeks.

I shouldn’t.

It’s just a bunch of co-workers going out. No harm.

The latter thought ended up winning, “I’ll be there.”

“Great! Uh…” He coughed, “Cool, yeah. Cool.”

—

You sent Andy a text that you wouldn’t be around that night, saying you were getting a few drinks with co-workers.

I’ll come see you tomorrow?

Let me know when you get home safe.

It burned like someone had taken a white-hot poker to your insides, and shame loomed in the aftermath. You swallowed a shot quickly, before scooching in closer to Mohan.

You caught Frank’s blue eyes from across the bar, already on you, and a feeling started tugging at your heart. Excitement was building with each step he took toward you, not quite hurried, but not entirely calm.

Frank slid into the booth next to Donnie, sipping his drink. You thought back to his last relationship, that ended just after you started dating Andy, and wondered if you would be together if everything had lined up better. How did the saying go again? Right person, wrong time?

You took a large gulp of your drink, feeling as it burned on its way down your throat. You refused to admit to yourself that it was anything more than a work crush. Your eyes still lingered on his jaw, down to the skin of his throat, and you blamed it on the alcohol in your system.

Slowly, the party of residents and day shift nurses trickled down to two: you and Frank.

Despite the thick tension wrapping around you both, the banter was still light — but it tipped far too close to small talk.

When you finally decided to call it, Frank walked out with you. The breeze was cool on your hot skin, and you fiddled with your fingers,

“I called an Uber,” you said.

“I’ll wait with you. My apartment is only a few blocks away.”

You nodded, “Thank you.”

You were only able to avoid his eyes for so long, and when they met yours, it seemed like the world around you was still. Everything fell away. Your eyes flickered to his lips and in a rush, his were on yours. Soft and urgent, and you nearly moved your hands to grip his face. The kiss was fleeting, as he was pulling away by the next beat of your heart.

“Fuck, I’m sorry—”

You blinked dumbly at him, lips still burning.

“I’m drunk, uh, but that was​​—”

“Yeah,” you got out, throat like sandpaper. “Me too.”

You definitely were not drunk enough to blame it on the alcohol, but you did.

Frank rubbed the back of his neck, blowing out a puff of air. A car pulled up to the curb, interrupting your thoughts.

“This is my Uber…thanks for inviting me out.” You said, voice edging close to a whisper.

“Yeah. Yeah! Uh, no worries.” His eyes flickered away from you. “It was a nice time.”

“It was.” You agreed, eyes flickering back to his lips.

You thought perhaps Frank hadn’t noticed, except his pupils had blown wide while he stared back at you. Heat flooded your cheeks. You looked away from him.

“Have a good night, Frank.”

“You too. Get home safe.”

You got into the Uber, skin feeling clammy as your heart hammered in your chest. You waited for regret to pool, but it didn’t — guilt did, but not regret. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Thinking of Frank’s lips on yours made you flush, and you traced a finger over your lips trying to commit the feeling of him to memory.

Andy.

Your stomach twisted.

—

The morning came too quickly for all the guilt you had tried to bury in the night. A few texts from Andy went unanswered, and you stared at the wall for a long time feeling like shit. You hated how much the kiss had shaken you, uprooting the carefully laid foundation with Andy until it was left fractured.

You needed to call it — it was the only fair thing left to do, even if nothing else happened with Frank. You had been unable to find a pulse on your relationship for weeks, and you needed to call time of death before the rot ate you alive.

Skimming over Andy’s messages, and missed call, you sent him a simple, “Sorry, got home late and passed out. Can we talk tonight?”

It felt like it wasn’t enough, but it was all you had.

You walked into the Pitt with a resounding frown and slumped shoulders. McKay found you first.

“Uh oh,” she commented, “Trouble in paradise?”

Damn, was it written on your forehead?

“Something like that.” You said, shrugging.

McKay frowned and gave your shoulder a reassuring pat, “We can talk about it sometime, if you want.”

“Thanks, McKay,” but it’s more complicated than you might be thinking.

You were able to avoid Frank until lunchtime.

“So last night…” Frank cleared his throat, avoiding your eyes. “It won’t happen again.”

In spite of yourself, you frowned. You hated the way you wanted it to happen again, and again, and again. This whole thing had gotten beyond the simple thing it had started as — feelings rooting around in your gut far more complex than you wanted them to be.

“Right. Yeah.” You said, though it sounded dejected. “Don’t worry about it…I’ll just stay away from tequila next time.”

The joke fell flat, but Frank took the excuse without protest.

The lull of the Pitt was shattered by a MVA, and you were thankful for the distraction.

You were able to fall into the work, working around Frank effortlessly, though every brush of skin felt more awkward than it ever had before. Before you knew those flirtations were just playful. Before you knew he could feel it too. Before he kissed you.

At the charge desk, you stood next to Mohan looking up at the board. Frank joined you two, resting on the desk.

“We’re going out again tonight, I think. You wanna come?” Mohan asked from beside you.

You looked over at her and your stomach squeezed. You met Frank’s eyes.

“No, um I’m seeing Andy tonight.”

You could see the way he physically deflated and it seized something in your heart.

“Oh,” Mohan smiled, oblivious to it, “next time then. But it would be great to see him again. Offer’s open.”

You smiled tightly, “Thanks.”

—

Andy met you at your apartment, both curious and mildly angry you had been avoiding him most of the day.

“I know I’m not the only one who feels like our relationship isn’t what it was.” You started, biting your lip. “We rarely see each other—”

“And that’s my fault?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “I didn’t say that. I know my residency takes up a lot of my time, but you have to know that this is just not working any more.”

You wanted to spare him of the truth — no one deserved to feel less than because of someone else. Even if it was a lie. Even if it burned your throat.

He frowned, letting out a huff of air, “This has nothing to do with that doctor who kept making eyes at you a few months ago? When I went out with your friends?”

Your eyebrows came together, “What?”

“The one you swore up and down was just a colleague?”

“He’s my chief resident, Andy. It’s not like that.” Even you didn’t believe the words as they left your lips.

He rolled his eyes, “So this is all coming from how you’re feeling? No outside forces?”

“No, of course not. It’s just not working for me anymore.”

Andy left not too long after that, leaving you reeling on your couch. One year down the drain, and it ached somewhere deep in your chest. You had cared about Andy, loved him for a time, but like a fire with no one tending it, it eventually went out.

Before you knew what you were doing, you were grabbing your keys and hailing a cab. Your heart raced in your chest, biting your lip, just thinking about Frank.

You sent him a text: Come outside.

You paced in front of the bar, not wanting to go inside to all your other colleagues. Frank came out, eyes confused as he searched for you.

Without much thought, you threw yourself into his arms, and kissed him with everything you had. He was quick to respond to you, wrapping his arms around your middle, tracing a tongue over your bottom lip. You keened.

He pulled back a few moments later. You stared at him, eyes wide, and heart racing.

“We broke up.”

Frank blinked, his grip tightening around you.

“I don’t want to be some rebound.” He said, breathing heavily against your lips, tensing like he was trying to control himself.

“You’re not.” You promised. “Definitely not. I should’ve broken up with him awhile ago, and that’s fucked up to say, but I was scared of this. It felt like too much of a risk. You’re my chief resident. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. But after you kissed me…I couldn’t deny it any longer.”

Frank swallowed thickly. “We really should take a step back. Take this one step at a time.”

“We really should.” You agreed, eyes flickering back to his lips. “But you should take me home first. Then small steps after.”

His pupils dilated, and he brought a hand to your cheek. His eyes were flickering across your face, trying to read you.

You pulled him closer, “Please just say yes. We can figure this out after.”

“Fuck. Yeah, alright.”

You kissed him again, and his tongue dove into your mouth. You sighed against him, feeling desire pool low. The open mouthed kiss was thrilling, filling your veins with a burning excitement.

Now all you had to do was not fuck it all up.

[ Next Part ]

want to join any of my taglists? shoot me a message!

The Pitt taglist: @cannonindeez @spoiledflor @kittenhawkk @nessamc @thatchickwiththecamera @sharkluver @loud-mouph @ksyn-faith @sunfairyy @dragonsondragons @mischiefsemimanaged @pastelbunnelby @jetjuliette @that-one-fangirl69 @moonlightmvrvel @andabuttonnose @boldlyherdream @cosmosnkaz

All: @nixandtonic

yo obviously cheating is very wrong even if your s/o kinda sucks, but the angst fuels me

sorry to do you dirty andy. you still suck

also? get this man more gifs! (we need season 2 stat)

still learning how to write for him😌

[kitkat13001]

✦ — 3. centerstage

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-> hitoshi shinsou x pro-hero!reader

✮ the longer you work with hitoshi, the more you notice things are starting to change. you’ve always been self-assured, but this team-up is really throwing you for a loop. ✮ tracklist: 505 - arctic monkeys, tek it - cafuné, wait a minute! - willow, deja vu - olivia rodrigo, fire - tv girl, closer - chainsmokers + halsey

you’re still not quite sure how to feel about this whole working-with-hitoshi thing. you’ve been pondering his apology ever since he voiced it, something uncomfortable stirring inside you from the entire ordeal. 

you’d considered returning it (since you’re definitely not absolved of blame in the matter), but you haven’t found a good time. it feels half-assed in any case, so you’ve just been trying to play it cool. 

luckily work has kept you both busy enough, what with the mission having progressed more than you’d been expecting. it’s been a good buffer to have something to focus on other than each other. 

it’s actually been kind of…nice. there’s still that lingering weirdness of the monumental history between you, but you’re slowly falling back into old habits. 

conversation comes a little easier during long patrols, occasionally stopping out for coffee during late nights of report filing, less venom behind quips exchanged during combat. you try not to let the nostalgia of it all overtake you — though that’s easier said than done.

“hey!”

your head snaps up, given no time to react as a bolt of energy hurdles right for you. you yelp as your body is yanked out of the way just in time, debris raining down behind you as the charge hits the wall you were just standing in front of. shinsou’s capture scarf is wrapped securely around your waist, him standing a few feet away with a pinched-brow expression. you shoot him a sheepish smile before readying yourself for the next strike, jumping back into the fray with hitoshi at your side. 

you two make quick work of the villain and it’s not long before she’s seething, wrapped up in hitoshi’s capture weapon. you’ve been trying to pick off stragglers from the syndicate in the hopes of extracting more information, but it’s been rather unsuccessful. still, a villain off the streets is a win you’ll take for now. 

you dust yourself off, flashing a sly look at shinsou. 

“can i compliment you this time or are you going to chew off my head again?”

“no, go ahead and sing my praises,” he replies with the hint of a wry grin. 

“ha!” you snort. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you’re quiet for a few seconds before giving a little laugh. “we should compete in the asshole olympics.”

“oh, we’d win gold.”

“mm, maybe silver. maybe. give ourselves some grace, save the gold for real pieces of work like them,” you reply with a hum, nodding at the villain sitting on the curb before you. he gives another little half-smile, chuckling to himself. 

it doesn’t take long for law enforcement to arrive and take the villain away, leaving you and shinsou with a quick thanks. 

“you going to get all dolled up for the cameras?” hitoshi asks as you’re walking back towards the agency. he’s talking about a press conference that edgeshot has arranged, both for exposure and to calm the public. you haven’t come out with the information about the bust being moved up, but you and shinsou have been approved to give a vague statement in order to quell the public’s curiosity (and gas yourselves up). 

“nah, i like the fresh-out-of-battle look,” you reply. “i think dirt and blood suit me.”

he snorts at that. “definitely.”

“how ‘bout you?”

“oh yeah, i’m about to head to hair and makeup right now,” hitoshi replies sarcastically. he grunts when you shove him lightly. 

“shut up! i meant, like, are you going to be fine in front of the press?”

he shrugs. “i’m not afraid of the cameras, i just don’t like them. not much of a choice here, though, but it’s whatever. you’re probably going to do most of the talking anyhow.”

“oh, am i?” 

he gives you a look. “aren’t you?”

“tch. yeah, yeah.”

once you get back to the agency, you both split to file your reports and get ready for the press conference later. 

you decide to remain in your hero suit, only giving yourself some minor touch-ups. best not to look like you’re trying too hard, especially when you know hitoshi would never let you hear the end of it. 

you’re actually on your way down when hitoshi drops down beside you, hanging from his capture weapon for a second before he drops to his feet. 

you’d be startled if he hadn’t done this a million times before, back when you were partners. 

instead, you fix him with a deadpan look. 

“you’re such a spider-man wannabe.”

he wrinkles his nose, though its near-imperceptible under his mask. “the comic book guy?”

“don’t act like you don’t know who spider-man is, hitoshi.”

“i’m not a thing like him,” he insists, matching your pace as you two walk to the conference room. 

“you’re right,” you reply coyly, “you’re batman because you’re emo.”

“you’re such a geek.”

you can hear the buzzing of reporters even from down the hall. you sneak a glance at hitoshi, but if he’s nervous it doesn’t show. he looks aloof as always — hands in his pockets, permanently hooded eyes, slouchy shoulders. your brows pinch just a little, squaring your shoulders and striding into the room with purpose. 

the reaction is immediate. you’re nowhere near top-five (or even top-ten) status, but your work with the lurkers has made you quite recognizable. the reporters squawk about, calling your hero name and waving microphones around. cameras flash in your face from all around the room, but you don’t pose for them this time. 

you head straight to the podium, trying to exude confidence. you can’t quite tell if hitoshi’s presence by your side is a source of comfort or nerves. 

the reporters quiet down when you tap the mic, introducing yourself and hitoshi. 

“good evening. i’m glad to be here with nighthide to assure you all of the safety of our community regarding the syndicate under investigation. we’ll be giving a statement and taking a few questions tonight.”

hitoshi steps forward beside you, reading the prepared script off a card in his hand. he projects a certain nonchalance, but there’s no mistaking the confidence behind his demeanor. 

you had told him before that he hadn’t changed, but that’s not true. he’s grown, clearly in more ways than one. you’re so caught up in him that you nearly miss your cue until hitoshi steps back to allow you to resume your place. 

the clamor starts back up as journalists and reporters push forward to get to you. 

a sharp-looking woman in the front thrusts her microphone in your face, waving over the video camera. 

“this is quite the fresh team-up,” she remarks, gesturing to you and hitoshi. “may i ask — what exactly is your relationship to nighthide?”

you’re used to leading, invasive questions during interviews. reporters love fishing for drama and personal anecdotes. you’re normally good about redirecting or deflecting, but this one has caught you slightly off-guard. they never start off the bat with something this direct, and there’s something off about her accusatory tone. 

“i— we’re coworkers?” you wince internally at the nerves apparently in your voice.

she presses on. “but you were in the same class at u.a. were you not?”

“yes, we have records that indicate you were both ranked in the top 10 of your graduating class!” chimes in another.  

“well, yeah, but—” you don’t even get to finish your sentence before another anchor interjects. 

“another one of our reporters dug up these photos—”

“is it true that you two were romantically involved?”

you sputter, cheeks burning as you burst out with a “no!”

“did you have plans to start an agency together after graduation?”

“we have records of you two teaming up in your early career—”

“—photos of you both in kyoto during the mass evacuations—”

“do you plan on pursuing this—”

“—awfully close for ‘coworkers’ to—”

your face is hot from embarrassment and the bright lights. the camera flashes have turned from irritating to unbearable. you can’t even get a word in between them. the assault doesn’t cease, and now they’re pouncing on shinsou too. 

“is there a reason you’re choosing to emerge from the shadows now?”

“yes, and does your choice of partner have anything to do with that?”

“is this all a publicity stunt or are there other factors of your personal history at play here?”

“i—” hitoshi’s violet eyes flicker to you for just a moment and it sends a bolt of panic through your body. you don’t give yourself the chance to name whatever emotion is swirling in his deep gaze, breaking away from the suffocation and shoving past your security detail to get out. 

you hurry down the hall and out the back, practically gasping for air as you burst out the door. 

the evening breeze cools the sweat that’s beaded on your forehead and nape, and you shakily take a seat on the steps. you glance back to ward off the paranoia, but no one’s followed you yet. 

you don’t know how long you sit there, stewing in anxiety and guilt, humiliation and frustration. your head whips up like a threatened deer when the door opens, but your shoulders relax a little when you see that it’s hitoshi, and that he’s alone. 

he takes a quiet seat beside you. you expect him to say something, but he remains silent.

“not gonna offer me a smoke?” you ask when the silence stretches uncomfortably, a half-hearted attempt at a joke. 

he glances at you with soft eyes and the ghost of a smile. “nah, ‘m tryna quit. apparently it’s bad for you or something.”

you give a shaky laugh. it’s another long moment before you speak again, voice small. 

“sorry for ditching you back there.”

it’s bad enough that you turned tail, but leaving hitoshi to fend for himself against those reporters? your gut shrivels with shame. 

“‘s okay. i drove ‘em off well enough,” he replies easily. 

“i don’t normally freak out during interviews,” you admit, rubbing your arms self-consciously. 

“i know.”

you turn to look at him. “you…know?”

hitoshi chuckles dryly, kicking a pebble away lightly. “you’ve got quite the glowing record, rookie. i’m sure they’ll forgive you.”

he speaks with such familiarity that your stomach does a little somersault. “you watch my interviews?” you muse, trying not to sound hopeful. 

hitoshi shrugs. “when they’re on.”

your face pulls into a little smile. “you watch my interviews.”

“don’t flatter yourself,” he scoffs, pulling his scarf up around his face like a defense. “‘m not a stalker. aizawa keeps up with all your careers and i’ve seen a couple telecasts, alright?”

you hold your gaze, beaming. “you watch my interviews.”

he makes a noise, somewhere between a sigh and a groan. “don’t read too much into it, okay? what i’m trying to say is that you’re gonna be fine. they won’t hold it against you — and if they do, i’ll make such a scene that you’ll look golden again. good as new.” he finishes with a huff of finality and you laugh. 

you’re close enough now that your shoulders are touching and it’s taking everything in you not to rest your head against him like you’d done so many times before. 

you didn’t realize just how much you missed him, not until now. 

you sit quietly for some time longer, but the question leaves your lips before you can talk yourself out of it. 

“can i ask you something stupid?”

hitoshi glances at you swiftly before looking back down at the pavement. “shoot.”

“were you… “ you’re not even fully sure you want to know, but it’s been eating at you for so long that you figure you might as well ask. “are you mad at me? for everything?”

he gives a long sigh after some deliberation, and then he’s quiet for a long moment after that. you think he’s not going to reply, and you wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t, but then he speaks.

“i was,” he admits quietly, “for a long time. hurt, i guess, more than anything. but it was all such a long time ago and we’re both different people now and…” he shrugs, helpless. “i don’t know, i guess it feels stupid to hold on to such old feelings when there’s more important shit to be done, yknow?”

hitoshi sneaks a quick glance at you, searching for something in your molten eyes. you hold his gaze even after he’s looked away, something stirring in your stomach that you can’t quite place. 

“can i ask you something even more stupid?”

he exhales a little huff, an almost-chuckle. “knock yourself out.”

you feel stupid saying it out loud, but you don’t think you can’t possibly humiliate yourself any more now. 

“…can we try being friends again?”

to your surprise, his lips quirk into a tiny half-smile. he snorts softly, knocking his hand against yours. “sure. ‘f you’ll stop being a brat about it.”

your brows pinch in a scowl, which only widens his smile. 

“i’m not a brat!” you insist, jabbing at his shoulder. 

“i’m not a brat!” he echoes back, parroting your voice with his modulator. 

“i hate when you do that!” you huff. the way you’re smiling doesn’t sell the statement. 

“ah, you like it.”

you two stay out back for a while longer, not wanting to break the fragile bubble of respite. as the sun begins to drop, you both agree to head back and face what’s sure to be a mountain of consequence inside. you almost shiver at the thought of facing kamihara after the scene you’d made. 

you try not to dwell on the feeling of hitoshi’s hand in yours when he helps you to your feet, or the way his touch lingers even after he’s let go. 

you’re rounding the side of the agency where most of the press has dispersed, though none of the stragglers are brave enough to approach (which you’re glad for). 

there’s someone else standing over by doors, though — a figure who becomes increasingly familiar as you approach. 

you stop in your tracks, dumbstruck. she catches sight of you and hitoshi, lighting up as she hurries over. 

“is that eri aizawa?” you cry in exaggerated disbelief. even though you’re playing around, seeing her scamper over to you sends a pang of bittersweet nostalgia through your stomach. she looks so grown up compared to the last time you saw her, but you still see the timid little girl you remember from your days at u.a. 

“oh my god, you’re so big!” you marvel, throwing your arms around her before you can help yourself. she giggles when you lift her with the force of your hug, giving her a playful spin before you set her back down. “last time i saw you, you were about yea high!” 

you wave your hand at waist length and eri’s cheeks turn a bashful shade of pink. “well, it has been a while…congratulations on your mission, though! i was super happy when ‘toshi told me you guys would be working together again!”

you turn to hitoshi, who you’d just about forgotten was there, but his face is pretty much unreadable. 

“yeah, it’s been…” you trail off when eri’s head turns back when her friends call out, a group of junior high kids lingering back behind you.

she hoists her bag back up with an apologetic smile. “sorry, i should get going. you two have hero work and i’ve got a test tomorrow.” she makes a yikes face and you laugh fondly. 

“better get moving then, little lady. good luck on your test.”

“thanks! it really has been too long, though.” she frowns like she’s thinking before she lights up with renewed joy. “you should come by for dinner again! i miss when you would always come around. i could even get dad to make your favorite.”

your stomach sinks, just the tiniest bit, but you can’t say ‘no’ to her giant smile and big scarlet eyes. so you muster up a big smile, squeezing her shoulders fondly. “dinner sounds great.”

“perfect! it’s a date then.” 

eri beams up at you, and you try very, very hard not to look at hitoshi. 

dividers by @/saradika-graphics, header by kitty with pics from pinterest!

taglist: @deadhands69 @frvv @cccandynecklaces @tokeposts @lover-no-lover61 @getvaccinated @accidentpronedork @crushmeeren @p4rkcha3w0n @cyberesc @bloomstream @eloshifts @bythevay @cc1306 @nobodybutnnoorr (ask/comment if you’d like to be added!)

🫵 this one’s for toke n sydney!! had fun w/ this one!! (even if it was a pain to finish LMAO) next chapter might be a little shorter, but things really pick up from there. hope everyone’s enjoying it so far, i def am!! <33

[cor-lapis-candy]

Hear me out, Dottore, experiment with everything once, make an experiment out of sex and not tell you till you see a document with a hypothesis and conclusion after he asked you to try something out with him or his segments, Dottore who I believe whole heartedly that if his partner had a chronic illness would use and experiment on the limits of it.

Say chronic fatigue, a partner that sleeps and sleeps, deep and long no matter how long or short they have been awake, leading him to experiment and mayyyybe development a sleeping beauty kink.

This is about somnophilia and technically CNC as he asks but your already half into sleep, so if someone getting down and dirty with a sleeping person is not your thing don't click the read more.

This is your ⚠️ warning ⚠️.

The cool wood of the desk next to the observation area of Dottore, segments coming and going between the sterile zone and the small area that holds sheets of paper and other documentation for whatever was going on in the room at that small window looked into.

Prime, your partner and lover is standing next to you watching the experiment with a cold indifference that some might take for displeasure if they didn't know him, but as you blink sluggishly at him you can see the curiosity and eager attention to the experiment clear as day.

When he turns to look at you, sliding his mask off and pushing his hair back out of his face, that curiosity becomes all about you, the sleepy, slumped over human that was covered by his harbinger cloak, the fluffy collar almost swallowing your head and cushions you from the hard wood.

The sight brews an idea, just how far could be push when you fell asleep...

He had asked you if he could test something as you were dozing off and the muffled response was affirmative sounding, so once you were down and out he had his segments end the experiment and ran a full sanitation of the lab, it was loud, unbearably loud and yet you didn't even react more than a flinch and mumble before nuzzling into the fluff of his coat.

Following the full sanitation he had one of his segments move you into the lab area, making sure to keep the coat you had wrapped around yourself under your head as he had you laid out on the examination slab.

There are multiple hands tugging and pulling clothes out of the way, there are stops and starts as he thinks sometimes you will wake, making internal notes of what makes you mumble or twitch as his segments finally get you naked and somewhat in position on the slab.

He has each segment run a different task, one is pinching and rolling your nipples with his bare hands, another is kissing and gently gnawing on your neck, the third and final is kneeling on the slab between your legs fingers lubed up and working to slowly open you up.

It's fascinating to watch as his segments manage to get your sleeping form so worked up, lube only being added periodically in small amounts instead of larger more consistent applications, the segment playing with your chest is almost as fervent in marking your chest and collarbones as the one that had changed to kissing and tugging on your earlobes?

Regardless of his segments own proclivities, all of them were still unsuccessful at waking you, your sleep seemed so deep and peaceful that even as he orders the segment that is four fingers deep in you to pull away and find something else to test on your body you do not wake.

Taking the place of his segment, he settles on his knees between your legs, grunting about his coats clasps and the need to undo them for this, once he is able to free himself it's simple to get a segment to lube him up and hold your legs apart as he shuffled closer and eases himself in, sighing happily as his head tilts back and his hips jerk as you tighten around him.

It's a good few minutes into what had devolved into a mess of segments pushing each other out of the way to grope at you, and Dottore prime fucking away between your legs, already having cum twice but downed a small experiment that he had saved for a rainy day to keep himself going, that you begin to wake.

Mouth full of one of the segments and hands cupping one segment each, your neck a mess of bites, hickies, saliva and bruises that lead down to a just as marked up chest, it's disorienting to come back too waking as you groan around the cock in your mouth, swallowing thickly and breathing through your nose as you can barely hear Dottore prime speak up his hips still snapping against yours with a filthy wet squelching sound.

"well now that you're awake, it's time to put some more theories to the test... Now be a good dear and just keep still."

[hplonesomeart]

Here’s an short unsuccessful test I did today; attempting to create an animation in a program I quite literally have ZERO experience with using ahaha :’)

Storytime/long ramble (unimportant):

I wanted to be like the “cool kids” and shift out of my comfort zone—no more relying solely on FlipaClip! Gotta branch out to a more effective program (ideally one that has an interface resembling animation software used directly in industry work)! I’ve seen people make good use of AlightMotion and figured it’s worth a shot!….that goal quickly fell apart <<

There’s definitely a wide variety of tools and especially emphasis on built-in editing features. I was intimidated by the sheer amount of mechanics going on at first, but gradually you get used to navigating stuff (even if some stuff I’m still trying to figure out the purpose of lmao). The only issue is that (to me at least) AlightMotion seems to handle tweening better then frame-by-frame animation. Which immediately lands me in a predicament of sorts since uh…can’t say I’m good at tweening. That would require me to actually finish coloring characters/have the ability to polish things using clean linework :P

Tweening (from my perspective) is about making something visually appealing by rigging separated assets of characters (like you would for puppets) rather then the whole. Or alternatively, some people tween by slightly moving the same drawn lines around on a singular drawing…so TLDR the exact opposite of frame-by-frame. I’m not an illustrator, I’m a storyteller. I can only manage rough line work with uncolored motions. Usually the smooth flow of frame-by saves me, else it would all look rather unfinished. I know where my strengths and my weaknesses lie; I’ve given AlightMotion a shot, but unfortunately it’s not gonna be solving the FlipaClip replacement problem 🥲

Was still beneficial challenging myself to play around with an unfamiliar environment! It’s a step in the right direction to encourage myself to try different things/figure out what works or doesn’t. If my patience didn’t wear thin, I’m sure I could’ve attempted authentic tweening instead of trying to push the program to work with frame-by-frame (it kept crashing, lagging, and pixelating while I tried to force it to comply with my methods. Think it’s safe to assume it doesn’t like me fighting against tweening lol). Who knows! Might return to AlightMotion in the future or might not. Depends on how adventurous or up for a challenge I’m feeling :3

Also goes without saying that online video tutorials would have probably helped—I’m just stubborn & prefer taking hands on approach sometimes. Learning any new program is gonna be overwhelming and scary at first, it is normal! I don’t think anything bad about AlightMotion. Just not for me at the moment. Was fun to play with while it lasted

[writerwhowritesao3]

Mildly obsessed with the idea that angels (and nephilim) see more colors than humans do.

Jack doesn't realize that sometimes he sees things that Sam and Dean don't. It just never comes up.

But then one day, he and Sam are poking around one of the storage rooms in the bunker, and Sam discovers a big box of prisms in various shapes and sizes.

"Oh man, I used to love playing with these when I was a kid!" he says with a huge smile.

"Are they game pieces?" Jack asks, picking a pyramid-shaped one.

"They're called prisms," Sam says. "Come on, I'll show you."

Sam takes Jack up to the roof, the latter carefully carrying the box. On the way up, he explains about light refractions. Jack listens with rapt attention, as he always does whenever Sam teaches him things. He's pretty sure that Sam is the smartest human in the world. Or, at least, the smartest human that Jack has ever met.

When they get to the roof, Sam shows him how to angle the prisms just right so that a rainbow appears on the floor.

"It's like magic!" Jack exclaims.

"Nah, it's just science," Sam laughs.

Science was so freakin' cool.

They spend the next few minutes holding up multiple prisms, trying to get the perfect angles to combine the rainbows together into one big super-rainbow.

"Okay, I got these four to merge," Jack says, holding two prisms between the fingers of each hand.

"Almost." Sam nods. "I think if you maybe lift them higher, you can get the colors to touch."

"They are touching," Jack says. "See?"

Sam looks at the ground again. There's about an inch and a half of space between each rainbow.

"The color right next to the violet on this one is overlapping with the color next to the red on that one, and then also the color next to that color," Jack continues.

Sam moves his gaze from the ground to Jack. He tries to spot the kid's usual tells—the ones he has whenever he tries to pull a prank on him, Dean, or Cas.

"What are the names of those colors, by the way?" Jack asks, and then clarifies: "The English names. I only know them in Enochian."

Sam realizes that Jack isn't joking around.

"It's so weird. These colors are everywhere, but I've never been able to find crayons that match them," Jack continues.

"Um...I don't know, buddy," Sam says. He tries to keep his tone casual. "I bet Cas knows, though."

"Probably," Jack agrees. "Cas pretty much knows everything."

Sam chuckles and shoots a quick text to Dean:

something weird on roof. bring cas

Dean and Cas materialize on the roof a few seconds later. Castiel almost never flies in the bunker; he's learned that most humans find it unsettling and rude to suddenly appear before them, and he doesn't want to make his human family uncomfortable in their own home—and he wants to set a good example for Jack.

Cas looks worried. He wouldn't fly if he didn't think it was absolutely necessary. Sam feels mildly guilty for how he phrased his text.

"What's wrong?" Dean immediately asks, already scanning the roof for potential threats.

"Nothing's wrong," Sam says. "Can both of you come over here real quick?"

When they do, Sam points at the colors on the ground.

"Are these rainbows touching?" he asks.

"No," Dean says, at the same time that Cas says, "Yes."

"You and Dean can't see these colors?" Jack asks, bewildered.

"They can't," Cas answers. "Humans can only see a certain spectrum of color. Other species, like mantis shrimp, can see more. But still not as many as angelic beings."

"So you and Jack just see a bunch of crazy colors all the time?" Dean says. "That's trippy as hell."

"How are we just learning about this now?" Sam says.

"It's never come up," Cas shrugs. He goes over to Jack and picks a couple more prisms out of the box to inspect and angle in the sunlight.

They stay on the roof to watch the sunset. Sam and Dean ask Cas and Jack if they see any extra colors. They do.

Later that night, Jack tries to describe the colors that he and Cas can see. He's unsuccessful, but the effort is appreciated.

One of the ways Jack tries to describe the colors is in terms of taste, physical sensation, and sound. Which is how Sam and Dean learn that angels and nephilim experience varying degrees of synesthesia.

[lo1k-diamonds]

Like Crazy 💜

SX Seoul Series | Jimin's Entry

PAIRING: Jimin x Reader (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: You let your desires run wild and things got too far while figuring out the choreography for Jimin's next single. You thought it was best to pretend it never happened, but he decided to chase you, hoping to set things right.

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

GENRE: strangers to lovers, smut, soft but filthy (?)

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: pwp (porn w/ plot really), mentions of drinking, misunderstandings, unprotected sex (wrap it up), semi-public sex, Jimin loses control and I find that endearing, light sub/dom with the reader being the dom, oral (f), hand job, edging, playing with cum, squirting, riding, breast worship & play, multiple orgasms, praise kink

A.N. 2024 started with the thoughts that inspired this fic, and writing it, I don't know. Jimin matched this energy perfectly, I can't explain it. Hopefully, you'll agree 💜 (Thank you @eerieedits for the cool banner 💜)

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

Jimin went quickly up the stairs while lowering his head under the drizzle. He ignored the people near the railing lining up, only glancing to confirm the presence of the lighted ice-blue stripes on the wall: SX.

He raised his head in time to face the bouncer, who recognized him and let him in immediately, but only relaxed fully once he was in the club’s lobby. There he shook the traces of rain off his black leather jacket before running his hands a couple of times through his hair, smoothing and rippling the dark strands simultaneously.

People laughing and chatting went around him to enter the club proper and he glanced but kept his head low. He knew the club’s owner and knew he tried to keep that club room on the exclusive side — to the entertainment industry — but to Jimin, that was a double-edged sword. On one side, that meant he was sure to find you there, on the other he risked being recognized by what were essentially colleagues and friends. 

He released a breath to soothe himself and brushed his hair one last time before going in. Not that it mattered, he concluded, as the flashing lights and loud music made his eyes blink and bones vibrate. He was free to go to a club whenever he wanted, regardless of who spotted him. What mattered was to find you.

His first searches in between the crowd were unsuccessful, so he neared the bar and asked for a drink. As he waited, he instantly turned to try his luck again only for the owner himself to recognize him and chat him up.

Jimin was polite, talking easily about how busy he was working on his solo work that would be out soon.

“The vibe kind of reminds me of this place,” he offered with a smile, taking the martini to his lips after swirling the twist of lemon peel inside.

The conversation didn’t last long and when the owner had to give his attention elsewhere, Jimin was finally free to let his thoughts overrun him. He needed to find you, and fast.

He knew you’d be there, he heard you scheduling it with the other dancers earlier. Earlier—

He almost choked thinking about it, the lights making him dizzy for a moment as he put the glass down on the bar counter.

What was he doing? Chasing you like that? Maybe he was crazy. What would that accomplish? What if you would just mock him? For—

Oh shit, his stomach twisted. What if you had already told everyone?

Damn it, he shouldn’t have let it play out like that. But he was genuinely powerless then, so out of it he only remembered being relaxed and molded to the hardwood floor beneath him.

“Good job,” you had told him in a velvety tone, lips hovering above his just after a sensual quiet laugh had snapped him away from his shock.

Were you mocking him then? No, he didn’t think so. But he was getting out of a high, so could he trust his judgment? And in a second you were no longer straddling him, but gone. He had sat up as quickly as he could only to see the door closing behind you, blocking him from calling your name. And then he glanced down at his crotch only to be confronted with—

He snapped his head back; that red smudge at the corner of his eye, was that you?! He was turning to the dance floor with his drink to drown his sorrows when he thought he saw you entering the room, and he was right! You were with friends, laughing and having fun, and his guts instantly twisted like he had to barf.

But he took deep breaths and calmed down. He knew you — you weren’t like that. He had to trust that. He glanced at you again, at your genuine smile, and wondered what your eyes would tell him if he faced you. Were you proud? Amused? Indifferent?

He forced himself to face the bar and drank the rest of the martini in one go before facing himself in the mirror behind the displayed bottles. This was his life, he was in control of it. He was there for a reason and he was going to do it.

He went straight for you, something similar to a tunnel narrowing his vision. His heart was racing deafeningly inside his chest, to the point he wondered where the music had gone, and then he touched your shoulder.

You turned around and your eyes widened right before you chucked and he thought his heart stopped.

“I thought you had enough dancing for today,” you asked cheekily after a small bow of your head, impermeable to his paleness and breathlessness.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

His voice was quiet and you had the distinct impression he was hiding, which instantly set your nerves on high alert. “Of course. What is it?”

He hesitated, and at that instant, you knew everything was fucked. “It’s… it’s private. I’d prefer it if we go somewhere quiet.”

Your stomach fell to the floor, but you still nodded. What else could you do? He was still the artist hiring you.

He waved at you to follow him and you did, instantly chastising yourself for being nonchalant about everything. But what else could you do? Jimin was a fucking star, you doubted any of it mattered. He’d play it cool and—

He stopped by the bar to speak to a bald guy you had the impression was the bar owner, but you didn’t listen. Jimin wanted to talk in private, and after what had happened, you could only think of one thing he wanted to say.

Of course, he would fire you. He was so keen on doing it, that once he spotted you, he couldn’t let it go or wait for Monday. And of course he wouldn’t, you should have known. You had totally lost face after going overboard like that.

The bald guy spoke with another bartender before waving at Jimin to follow him, to which Jimin glanced at you before going after him. There was a door in the mirror wall beside the bar and it led to a corridor. The house music was halved there already but you didn’t pay attention to the owner’s indications; you only followed Jimin, even after the bar door closed behind you.

It wasn’t that Jimin had to play it cool or that you expected him to because he was a star, you argued in your thoughts. Not even because you thought that happened to him all the time or anything like that, just—

You heaved a deep breath, settling things with yourself — it was just tension. Tension was meaningless to someone like him, that was all. That was what you thought, and that wasn’t a crime. The arguable crime was what you did before.

Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, you concluded, following after Jimin in silence. But who were you kidding, you absolutely should not have. You would soon have a brilliant ten-year career as a dance coordinator. Risking it in the spur of the moment was possibly the dumbest shit you had ever done. The problem was that it never felt like you were risking anything.

You were experimenting with the choreography. During the second verse of the song, a parallelism should occur where a female dancer and Jimin should mirror each other. After a full day of going over the chorus choreography with him alone, as the choreographer, it was your job to come up with ideas but he effortlessly suggested working on them with you. Jimin was always like that, wanting to be involved in his choreos, and you didn’t mind it at all. Granted you were both exhausted, and you’d admit he was…

You glanced at him. He always made you flutter in various ways, and dancing with him or watching him dance was no different. But you could stay professional; you had worked together before, and there was never an issue.

But today you were experimenting with potential dance moves for that verse and you suggested lying down. He was curious about it and asked you to explain, and you told him, “Like a worm dance move, but one over the other. Let me show you, lay down.”

He lay on the dance room floor and you placed yourself with your sneakers next to his hips. Once he gave you the go-ahead, you bent forward with your hands ready to catch you on either side of his head and let your body fall over him, curving from your chest to your stomach, hips, and knees before your feet touched the ground, and you got up. You couldn’t forget his expression as you did it: his cheeks gained color, his parted lips revealed his surprise, and as your face hovered over him, his glistening stunned eyes were on you before lowering to what you hoped was a good view, aka, your cleavage.

“What do you think?” You had asked.

“Again,” was all he had said.

So you did it many times more, trying to connect from the previous step in the choreography and then trying to figure out where to go from there — if you should get up on your feet or just stay on your knees or maybe something else.

“Then we can find a way of… getting you up again,” you were winded as you quite simply stayed seated on him. You wouldn’t have normally but you were exhausted, so you didn’t move, with your core dangerously close to his. So close that you instantly thought, Not that we need to, you’re already up.

And the thought should have scared you, but as you both recovered your breaths, you just stayed put, facing each other. His gray sweatpants left nothing to the imagination from where you were sitting and your leggings only helped. It was thoughtless of you to move an inch only to feel him a bit better, and you were startled into freezing when his dark eyes snapped open. Yet he said nothing, did nothing but look at you, the both of you sweating and still panting. Until his hands brushed your hips and the scales tipped. He squeezed ever so slightly, and you let yourself fall.

Jimin opened the last door at the end of the halfway and you followed him inside. When he closed the door behind you, the music became barely audible and you could hear yourself think. And panic. And make the right choice like the professional you were.

“I understand,” you started, turning to him once you reached the desk on the opposite side of the room. You were in an office, and as small as it was, at least you had distance between you. “You don’t have to worry about it. I’ll give my resignation letter tomorrow.”

“What?” He gaped, blinking his normally sweet eyes, “Why?”

Your eyebrows twitched, “What do you mean, why? For—” Your breath got caught up in your throat and you suddenly were at a loss. How could you say it? You sucked in a breath, “For acting inappropriately.”

His eyebrows pinched ever so slightly and you thought that speaking ahead could at least save your career.

“I’m sorry if I harmed you somehow. That was not my intention. I— I got carried away.”

You wondered if you misstepped by admitting that much, but instantly your eyes dropped to his lips and the memory flooded you. They were incredibly soft, as was his tongue, playful in a delicious kiss that had you forgetting everything aside from how hard he was beneath you.

You forced yourself to look down and bow respectfully, “Please don’t worry about—”

“You didn’t finish.”

You raised your head, “What?”

“You didn’t finish.”

You straightened back up and blinked. You gave it time, but you had nothing. What was he talking about?

Oh, right.

“The choreography? You have a lot of it already,” you smiled pacifyingly. “I’m certain you can get someone to fill in the gaps.”

“No,” he stepped forward. “You.”

You blinked, drawing a blank again. “Me? I don’t understand.”

“You—” He hesitated for only a second, “You didn’t come.”

Your eyebrows jumped in surprise, but then you pursed your lips, “So?”

“So,” he took a step forward. “You left before I could do something about it.”

You could almost hear the click as you thought you had caught on to him, “You mean you want to finish what we started? Not fire me?”

His expression only softened as he nodded, and yet for you, it was even more confusing.

“Really?” You asked, blinking in surprise.

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“No!” You almost shouted as he tilted his head, so you reeled it back in quickly, “No, definitely not, I just—” He stayed quiet as you struggled for words until you just sighed, saying the first thing that came to mind, “I just didn’t think you’d want that.”

“Why not?”

The way he rolled his shoulders reminded you of the tension building between you. You were sort of blind to it before, as you had been worried about your future for a moment there, but now you could feel it lacing around your neck again. He was right there like a pretty picture, just waiting for you to answer or do something, leaving you space to decide whatever, and yet you were still wary of making the wrong decision.

“Because… That’s not very professional,” you settle with, deciding to still be cautious about it.

But he just chuckled, “I think we’re past worrying about that. Or not?”

Your mouth moved without filter, “If you want us to be, then we are.”

His smile potentially rewired your brain. Even as he looked down and seemed to consider something, all you could do was wonder if this was real. Jimin was really telling you not to worry about being professional because he wanted to finish what you started at the dance studio and holy shit, you were getting hot.

“I…” He started, and you attuned instantly. “I’d like it if we kept it between us.”

“Deal.”

He could see you relaxing in a way, and now he was certain that your posture had changed. Just like before at the dance studio, your shoulders were straight, your posture intent, ready to move. He didn’t have to hide his eyes tracing your curves because you were doing the same to him. And it burned. Usually, he preferred to have clothes on; he was never the most confident about his body. But with you, it felt different. Perhaps because of before but… With you, the clothes were in the way.

He took a deep breath and pulled on the collar of his leather jacket as it was gluing to his skin, “I’m not sure what this means but…” He looked back at you with darkening eyes. “I don’t want to think right now.”

You instantly nodded in agreement, then shook your head the next second, “Yes, no thinking. I just want to know one thing,” you started, mind falling deeper into that rabbit hole. He nodded. “How did you plan on finishing me off?”

Your heart was drumming fast, but that was it. His lips parted in a bit of shock, but you didn’t take it back. He could back out, but if he wanted it, then you were in and this was what it meant. You wanted to know how he planned on continuing this partially because you wanted to know if you were on the same page, but also to know—

“Eating,” he breathed, and your eyebrows jumped. He must have noticed your eagerness because he licked his lips as a hand ran through his hair, “Eating you out. Burying my face in—”

His breath caught and you couldn’t help yourself; you shook your head almost anxiously, “Say it. Come on, please,” you were asking and it was enticing. “Say it for me.”

His reaction was to rub his face in embarrassment, “I can't believe I'm saying this to you.”

“Why?” You almost pouted, “I want to hear it.”

“Yes, but…” he didn’t seem to know how to face you or answer until he took a breath to renew his courage. “Talking… is hard. I should finish you first.”

He took a step forward but you raised your hands with a light frown, “Wait. Talking is important. This is not a race.”

“No, of course not. And yes, I’m not saying we shouldn’t talk, it’s just—” You had lowered your hands and his discomfort was abundantly clear, making you wonder what was going on. He heaved a deep breath before confessing, “I feel like I failed.”

For a second, you thought this was a terrible idea. If he wanted to be with you because of a semblance of hurt ego or pride, then you were not interested. But then… You knew Jimin, you had worked together before. He was a perfectionist but he wouldn’t come this far just for that.

So you allowed yourself to dig deeper, and stepped closer to him, “Because you came?”

“I couldn't control it. I tried,” he was apologetic and you closed the distance between you two.

“I saw it,” you acknowledged, then smiled. “You looked so cute trying, groaning a no even when your orgasm overcame you.”

He looked down and you saw that same embarrassment that now you were starting to gain a distaste for. Because that was nothing to be embarrassed about. Hell, you loved that you drove him that insane just by straddling and kissing him. Just thinking of the frenzy that had you dry-humping him and kissing him like he was the air you needed had your temperature rising. He had no way of knowing how close you had been nor how it filled you with pride when he twitched inside his pants and groaned into your kiss. At that moment, you had thought that playing with him would have been the best thing ever. Then you realized who you were doing that with and thought that leaving was the best course of action.

Well, you weren’t leaving this time.

You had a better idea. Your lips curved as you got your jacket off, knowing the deep cleavage on that red dress could convince him to look back up.

“Maybe you were too turned on,” you sighed after throwing the jacket over a nearby chair. You smirked at his eyes on you and casually adjusted the bra stripes, making your breasts bounce. “Wouldn’t blame you,” you shrugged, tone brazen as you relaxed. “It could be,” you continued, your hands forming a v down your stomach to your mound. “That this pussy is just magical.”

He couldn’t hold back his chuckle and you grinned, even as he shook his head with color on his cheeks.

“Isn't that why you thought of eating it?”

“I think it's your hips,” he voiced, endlessly more at ease. You could hear it and see it. “The way you move… the way you dance has always made me imagine, but today the way you moved to—” Your look was intense but you knew he could take it. “—to grind on me just—”

“Got you bursting despite your best efforts?” Your tone was almost condescending and to your surprise, he simply nodded.

“I'm sorry I couldn't wait for you.”

And that did it for you. “Don't be sorry, you're here now.” You passed by him and happily found a key on the door that you turned. You glanced at him but he only ever looked at you, never losing sight, so your lips curved, “I'd say this is way better.”

He didn’t oppose you in any way as you got around him to reach the desk again, only this time you sat on it. You spread your legs and his tongue peeked between his lips.

You smirked, “Come here.” He moved but his eyes were restless; indecisive on where to focus first. Right before he could reach you, you added, “Kiss me first.”

Still, as he got in between your legs, first he tentatively traced your legs up to your knees and hips with the back of his fingers. Gently but in awe, holding his breath to scout your reaction. You smiled at him and opened your arms and your welcome had him melting forward with his eyes set on your lips.

You closed the distance between you so your mouths could meet, squeezing your knees to his hips so he knew not to move away. While your arms wrapped around his neck relaxedly, you moved your lips at your tempo, knowing that he’d follow. You imposed a slow rhythm, mouths opening millimeter by millimeter to allow for your breaths to mix progressively, tastes to be shared patiently, and tongues to finally touch in sensual flicks that had him groaning mutely.

You were doing it again, he thought, needing to hold your waist and press himself closer to make sure you wouldn’t leave. Just like before, he trusted you without a thought and your kiss was enough to dazzle him, to make him want to follow the rails you set out for him if only because it was you. He wanted it all. If he sucked a deeper breath, it was to breathe you in. If he chased your tongue, it was because he wanted more of what you were giving. If he pressed your waist, it was because he needed to be grounded. Because he was already over the moon, sweating under those stupid layers of clothes, painfully hard and away from that magical pussy of yours, and lost. So lost if you wouldn’t show him the way.

He didn’t know if you realized it, but he trusted your guidance and you didn’t disappoint. You hugged him closer, pressing your chest to him and giving him space to join your cores. Even through his pants, you could feel his bulge, and you wanted it. You opened your eyes during your kiss and all that you could see was absolute relaxation and vulnerability on those sweet lines of his, so you took the next step. 

First, you wrapped your legs around him, crossing them over his perky ass. Then you pressed him closer, right before stretching your legs, the movement making him go back, right before you pressed again to draw him close. It created a push-and-pull move that had him grazing against your center ever so slightly, making you flutter around nothing just at the suggestion. And you could tell he appreciated it, if only by the way he sighed and his lips became lax with the distraction. You gripped his hair by the back of his neck and he went with it, letting you split your mouths while your lower body dance continued.

His eyes opened a slit to face you and that view was fatal. He was a fucking gorgeous man, with his kiss-bruised lips and mute groans escaping them all while dark eyes invited you to have your way. And you would because at that point you wanted little more than to play with him all the way.

It was stronger than you; a moment of that view, of his bulge making your imagination fly, and you couldn’t stop yourself. In a matter of seconds, your free hand was forcing its way inside his pants, not even bothering to unbutton them, just squeezing in between and passing every layer of clothing until you gripped his hard cock.

He groaned with lips parting further, surprised with your boldness, but not dissatisfied with it. Quite on the contrary, judging by his precome on your hand. His fingers gripped your waist harder but he stayed exactly put, letting you squeeze the head tightly and jerk him as much as you could with the clothes’ constraints.

But you liked them on. Your tongue peeked between your lips as you took in that full image. Park Jimin still had his black leather jacket on but was covering your fist in precome, groaning with pleasure on an expression you didn’t guess he let many others see. No one would know how weak you left him even if they barged into the room right now, and you instantly knew no one else could do that to him. You could read it in his eyes — he was taken, he was yours, and he wanted you to have him. And if on any other day, you could have had fun just teasing and testing his limits, that would have to wait for now. Tonight you wanted to be with him.

So you let go of his hair and jumped a bit on your ass while you pulled the hem of your dress up the curve of your hips. His eyes didn’t miss anything, not your round hips being revealed and surely not your chest bouncing. Just by the way he looked at you, you knew he was your kind of guy, but not yet. You had that office at the back of a club, after all, you were not going to make it a quickie.

“Pull your clothes down.”

He blinked questioningly and you smiled and nodded. As he unbuttoned his pants and forced them and his underwear down his hips as best he could, you could only guess what all of that was doing to him. Your teases, your generous cleavage glistening under the office lights, your raised skirt suggesting what could come next, and finally, your request laced in a low lustful tone. His obedience was rewarded with wider movements of your fist up and down his shaft, which would have all your attention if his cheeks weren’t flushed. Fuck, you wanted to bring him to his knees crying with bliss, show him he was the key to heaven itself and you were the gatekeeper.

But not yet.

Your firm hand around his cock pulled him closer as you sat on the edge of the desk and spread your legs. He almost fell over you, supporting himself on the table to stay at bay only to waver on his knees. Your laced panties were red, just like your dress, and contrasted with his pink engorged tip.

“Look,” you called to him, eyes fixed on the view of his cock head rubbing on your clothed clit. “You have such a pretty cock.”

His groan was instant, bringing more fire to his cheeks if that was possible. You were looking at him now, seeing how tense he was, how he was gripping the desk on either side of you, how he was trying not to buck his hips to help you, but most importantly, how beneath the embarrassment and desire, he was proud. You grinned wickedly when you realized this, thoughts running wild as you licked your lips.

“Is it good?” You asked, wanting to make sure he wasn’t getting lost too soon.

And he nodded, trying to suck in a ragged breath, “I said I’d eat you.”

His hoarse voice had you sinking your teeth in your bottom lip, and after a moment of consideration, you let him go. Your hand was wet around your thumb and pointer where his precome had found purchase, and you brought it up. He had staggered with the loss of your hand, deciding to wait for your signal before getting on his knees to eat you, when he almost choked. Your tongue was out, savoring him off your hand slowly as your eyes stayed on him, and he felt a new wave of heat hit his back. He was melting, hanging on a breath and on your opinion because you were surely measuring up his taste before you gave your go-ahead.

Your lips twitched before you gave a last lick up your thumb, and he finally breathed. Yet he only unfroze when you leaned back on the desk and uttered what resembled a challenge, “Go on.”

His knees hit the floor at super speed, followed only by his starving eyes and his fingers looking to hook your panties. You only twitched your eyebrows when he glanced up in confirmation but then he was free to pull them down your legs. The wet spot on the outer side was obvious, it was his doing, but as the fabric passed your knees, the white and translucent arousal pooling on the inner side had him salivating.

You could see in his focused expression that he wasn’t taking things lightly, but you considered he might have been intimidated. You were wrong. His eyes were fixed on his goal and the first thing he did was bury his face right at your center, rubbing it in and taking a deep breath as if he had finally come home. It was enough to make you throb, but it was his hunger that did you in. 

He was starving; the use of the word eating had not been lost on him. His mouth was everywhere in the beginning, followed by his tongue collecting all of your dripping wetness as if it was an oasis in a desert, and then he settled. He took a deep breath with a whiny groan that you doubted had been voluntary and focused on lapping at your sex, licking and licking in a certain rhythm that had you finally blushing and groaning at the ceiling.

In between your haze, you found yourself smirking. Of course, a dancing god would have a perfect tempo but it was almost unfair. You wanted to have fun and make him work for it, and instead, he was the one driving you crazy.

So much so you needed to grab his hair and when you did, you clenched, biting your bottom lip not only not to moan but also not to come. Unknowingly, he made it easier for you. Maybe he thought you needed a break and that was your way of asking because he gave you one, nuzzling your clit instead. Only that made you squirm and grip his head harder, pressing him to you for more pressure, and he got the gist. He gripped your hips in place, sticking his tongue inside you for a moment to collect your taste only to go back to licking you deliciously over your clit.

And you finally moaned and bucked your hips, the searing sensation so close to where he was going down on you, you could have come on his face.

But you held back. You pulled his head away by his hair and almost lost your nerve at his swollen lips and hungry eyes. Why did he look so fucking delicious? Was it because he was covered in you from nose to chin?

“Fuck, if I knew you ate pussy this good, I would have gone straight for your mouth instead of leaving.”

His tongue darted out to lick your taste from his lips as his fingers dug into your skin. He couldn’t think any further than the idea of ravishing you, especially now that you were not only giving him a chance but regretting leaving him too soon. “I can keep going and finally make it up to you.”

“No,” you decided quickly, sitting back up. “Not yet.” He furrowed his brow for a moment, unsure of what you were asking. “I’ve changed my mind, I want to feel you first.”

He didn’t move. The way you seemed to be holding back brought doubts to the forefront of his mind, which brought hesitation. He could do it, he showed you he could do it, so why would you stop him now?

“Look,” you asked sweetly as you leaned forward to cup his balls. He was standing again because you had pulled him up and he observed you with curiosity. “Still so full,” you cooed, rolling his balls on your hands gently. You saw his Adam’s apple bobbing and you grinned, “And with such a pretty hard cock.” You grabbed him with your other hand, jerking him swiftly and firmly over his tip, swaying him on his feet. “Where else? I want you inside me,” you sighed, looking down at the precome spurting out of him again. Fucking tease he was. “Want to see the face you’ll make when my walls squeeze the cum out of you.”

He blinked and licked his lips, knowing fully well you expected an answer but needing to scramble his mind for one, “Whatever you ask.”

You smiled mischievously and slowed your fist on him only to beckon him closer, “Kiss me.”

Your traces on his face were waning but you were quick to lap your tongue around his mouth messily, holding his chin in place so he wouldn’t escape you when you pushed your tongue inside him. Your excitement was taking the breaks out of you and it showed when you pumped his cock harder, not giving him a second to breathe. He had to fight or submit to your tongue as you pressed in, biting his lip whenever he tried to evade you, even if to moan your name. But the effects of that sound only made it worse.

Your legs laced around him and pressed him closer so you could guide the crown of his cock to your entrance, “So hard and thick.” 

Your lewd voice dragged as you clenched around his girth and it tried to catch in you. His hands came to rest on your legs, eyes fixed on the view while his lower lip became trapped between his teeth. He was hanging on, desperate for the moment it would happen.

“You’ll stretch me so good,” you moaned at the thought, and his sole reply was a jerk of his hips. You licked your lips at the initiative and pressed your shins to his ass to get him swaying. “Gonna make me all wet and crazy for this cock,” you rasped as you saw, same as him, his cock trying to push into your closed fist to reach your sex. “Gonna fill me up with that sweet cum of yours. Aren’t you?”

You asked as you grinned, feeling the precome fill your hand again. Fuck, he was messy, and he had no idea how much you liked that.

“Shit,” his mumble was his only verbal response, meanwhile his hips gained momentum. He clearly enjoyed your incentive, your fist pulsing around his tip in a tease, threatening to catch him only to let him go back in an endless game that had him shaking.

You saw it, and you loved it and couldn’t not play with him. It was stronger than you. As he kept jolting, trying to ever reach inside you, you caressed his hip gently with your free hand, leaning closer to meet him halfway. Because he was bending forward, flushed and focused, breathing heavily as he rutted into your hand, so bent on getting inside you no matter what it took. He was facing you, reading your lips as you cooed him sweetly, fueling his hunger with yours and falling into your kiss. 

You licked his lips in a tease, “Harder.”

And he did, following your lead as he grunted and tensed under your fingers now at his sweaty neck. You were entranced by him in ways hard to describe: his parted pouty lips, his breathtaking stare, and his cocked eyebrows telling you that he was rising to the challenge and giving you what you wanted. Your mouth opened too when his cock finally slid so well in your fist that the tip kissed your folds and you shuddered. His hands had sneaked up to your hips and gripped harder, committed to that last stretch to get to you, and you licked your lips.

And let go.

You opened your hand and he suddenly slid inside you, splitting you so harshly you screamed with the invasion, and so did he. He almost collided with your chest, dodging your face last second so you wouldn’t head bump, but his focus had shifted. Instantly he groaned, and you burned in bliss. You knew the way your walls were squeezing him was mind blowing, your throbbing to accommodate his girth helping you and him. He twitched and groaned into the crook of your neck and you knew he had lost control again.

Fuck, you just adored the way he breathed when he was high and coming down, it was perfect. Riveting, exhilarating, heavenly. All the things you knew he would be, and more. 

He cursed into your shoulder and you grinned, making sure to tell him, “We’re not done.”

He straightened back to look at you and you smiled endearingly as you cupped his cheeks.

“You just stretched me,” you cooed. “Gonna let me ride you?”

He blinked, “Now?”

“Now, gorgeous,” you sighed with a smile, crossing your legs on his ass firmly before he had any ideas. It was hard not to enter a frenzy after so much foreplay, especially now that his come was threatening to drip out of you. “Said I’d empty you, and you’re not done yet.”

You reached to pull his leather jacket back and off him then pulled his shirt up without the slightest hesitation. Your nails grazed down his pale skin over his pecs, marking him as you felt the muscles leading to his thin waist.

Your fingers brushed his NEVERMIND tattoo, “You’re so fucking hot, no wonder.”

He pressed his palms to his eyes and you could guess he was letting the embarrassment back in, and you weren’t having it.

“Look at me,” you demanded firmly, and he lowered his hands to look at you in surprise. “I need to ride you,” you said and bucked your hips in case he had forgotten where he was still sheathed. “Take me and sit on that chair.”

He glanced at the chair next to him where you had thrown your jacket, and wrapped his arms around you to do as you requested. As he did, he wondered how he could break down to you that eventually, he’d get soft, but the thought never reached his mouth because you were kissing his head and pressing yourself to him. As soon as his ass hit the chair, your feet found the ground and you rolled your hips over him with a quiet moan that covered him in goosebumps. Right, he thought, tension stiffening him from head to toe. He was still hard inside you, you felt that good.

You could feel him stretching you, barely any of his come dripping down, and so you moved tentatively only to lose your mind soon after. “Fuck you’re so good,” you mewled into his ear as you hugged him and rocked over him. “Your cum got me sliding so well,” you sighed, and he dug his fingers into your waist. “Not just a pretty cock, huh?” You leaned back and smiled, letting him see how fucking crazy he made you. “But a good cock,” you moaned, never stopping your ride. “Made to keep me well stuffed and satisfied, hm?”

Pleasure was twisting his features and you doubted he would answer you.

You leaned forward, “Fuck, I need to empty you.” You were starting to hump him hard, not only searching for his cock to hit inside you but for a roughness over your clit. You gripped the hair at the back of his head and reached to ghost his lips, “Leave you spent and pretty.” Your hips gained traction and the way he was looking back at you, as if he knew how crazy he drove you, had you gripping harder. “Can I?”

He smiled, “Yeah.”

And it broke you. You took support on his shoulders and jumped once on his cock, making sure he was ready for you. He was.

“Get your pants off and away.”

“What?”

“Do it: out of your feet and kick them away,” you repeated, giving him the time to do it without getting off your throne. Once he sat back up, grabbing your hips comfortably, you rolled them again, “Your come is dripping.” You were gluing your chest to his and he was busy looking at it, wrapped in red. “We’re gonna make such a mess.”

You chuckled sensually and kissed his cheek all the way to his ear, biting on his earlobe as you got comfortable on his lap.

“Tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” You asked gently before licking his ear, “I can always ride your pretty mouth.” He was squirming when you tried licking him again, so you pulled back. “Good?”

He nodded, biting his lip as he eyed you, and you smirked. You leaned in to bite his pouty lip for just a languid moment before you pressed on your heels to slide up his shaft and then fall down. And again and again, easily letting the moans out of your lips now that you weren't holding back. His head fell back a little, eyes fixed on you as his chin dropped, and you took it upon yourself to make him sound pretty.

The slaps, the wetness, the tight vice you had him under; he couldn’t even think. How could you feel this good? His toes were curling, his nails sank into the fabric of your dress as he looked at your chest bouncing in front of his face. Fuck, you were gorgeous. He wanted to be with you and he had dreamed of your fucking him, sitting on his face and smothering him, but shit, he wasn't expecting that. He had come just before and still, you felt insanely good. 

Your lips twitched into a mischievous smile, “Do you like it?”

“Oh, yeah,” he breathed, so fucked out you only tensed more.

“Good,” you chimed happily, kissing his mouth before leaning to nibble on his earlobe again. “Fuck, I wanna come hard on your cock, show you how good you make me feel.” He shuddered, holding you closer to him. Every word of yours was a moan, he believed you, but he wanted to hear you unfold. “Would you like that? Should we make a mess?”

“Definitely, yes.”

His lips brushed your neck near your hairline and you scratched his shoulders, jumping on his lap as much as your embrace allowed you to. You didn't need much, you had been holding on for so long and the way he pierced you inside was just perfect. It didn't take much to relent the control and your moan pitched, higher and harder with his poking inside, adding to the lewd sounds and the lascivious thought of his balls squashed beneath you as you jumped on him, and you popped.

Jimin was focused on your boobs bouncing nearly on his face when you squealed. He glanced up, avid to finally see you come, but in your scream, he felt wet.

He looked down as your moans subsided and touched his stomach down to where your sexes met. He was wet, like a glass of water had just been thrown there.

“Woah,” he breathed, bewildered.

“Is that okay?” You asked, winded.

“That’s fucking okay,” he rasped, at a loss for words. He had never seen that before and you didn't give him time to think about it.

Your hypnotizing hips kept going as you raised his chin to kiss him. “That’s how good you feel,” you moaned, out of breath. “That’s how hot you are. Fuck, that’s how much I wanted to ride your cock.”

You grabbed his head to kiss him deeply, pushing your tongue in again to lick and flick inside his mouth. Your head was spinning as you got lost, scratching up to his scalp to keep him in place for your pussy to swallow and ride him without a break.

Until you broke away with a whine, “I’m not done.”

“Keep going,” was his instant reply, glistening eyes boring into yours.

“Can you come with me?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “You feel really good but I’ve never done it like this before. I’ve no idea.”

Your lips curved with a hint of mischievousness as you brushed his sweaty hair out of his forehead to kiss him there, “I’d like to feel you coming again.”

“Me too,” he leaned into your touch with a sigh, kissing you back when you searched for his lips. “Pleasure yourself, I’ll follow.”

You smiled at his proposition, sliding up and down his shaft with ease. It felt good but you had to build your tension again and to know you had a green light to do as you pleased instantly sparked you. He really seemed to be your type.

You bit his pouty lip gently and dragged a hand of his from your waist to your ass. “Rub it for me.”

The dress had climbed to your waist and he took a moment to palm your round asscheek, feeling how it contracted with every swing of your hips. You were chasing a second orgasm and he groped you with a smile, happily thinking to himself it was a blessing he had come first. Now you could just use him without worries.

And he wanted to help you do it, so he slid his fingers closer to your rim. Your constant jumping got you the rub you asked for, and you squirmed, trying to get more without sacrificing his cock pounding inside you.

He was entranced, seeing your expression riddled with pleasure as he rubbed a bit harder, and soon you clenched hard. So hard he looked down expectantly, the way your body moved blowing his mind irreparably. He was yet to see your tits, but the way he wanted to eat them—

You pressed your lips to his almost anxiously, stopping your movements to stay on his lap and kiss him. He wondered why you had stopped, but your kiss stole his whole reasoning. You were reaching deep, touching corners of him he didn’t know were accessible so easily. But it was unfair to call what you were doing to him easy, it was definitely something only you could do. And in the midst of having his whole mind and body overrun by you, he wondered if he’d ever be able to forget you.

“I have one last request,” you smiled, still so close he nuzzled your skin as he thought that he'd give you whatever you asked for. “Eat my tits so I can come.”

His brain seriously glitched as he looked at you, your smile only furthering the downtime. The sway of your hips entranced him again as you slowly picked the rhythm back up with your eyes set on him. Your tongue peeked between your lips and the corners of your lips twitched slyly — it got you so high knowing that you could make him dazed like that. Everything about his expression and the way he looked down at your cleavage turned you on, and you were the happiest to make it even worse.

But as you tried to pull the dress straps down your shoulders to get more of your chest free, the fabric offered resistance. It distracted you from what mattered and Jimin didn’t like that. Quite the opposite; he liked that even if he glitched and forgot how to use his mouth other than to drool, you were still free to keep going, riding him to your heart’s content. But knowing you wanted his mouth on your breasts and that you were struggling enough that it was ruining your pleasure was unacceptable. 

He didn’t think; he gripped the fabric by the deep cleavage and pulled the straps effortlessly over your shoulders along with your bra. Your breasts easily overflowed from your padless red bra and he was in awe. Your tits were moving lusciously along with your body straddling him and his thought process stopped again.

The way he looked at you upped your arousal another notch right before he buried his face in your boobs, pressing them to either side of his face. His thumbs instantly squeezed and rubbed your nipples and your hips bucked, pleasure shooting through you in a way that had you bouncing. And as you did, his come mixed with your slick, dripping down onto him and making you shudder from head to toe.

“Fuck,” you moaned, at the tip of the spear as you looked down at him trying to lick both boobs at the same time. He clearly liked their size, loving the way he could reach both as long as he grabbed them together. “You feel that?” He hummed right as his tongue darted out to lick you yet again. “Fuck,” you dragged, rolling your hips again with a hiccuped movement. “I want you to cover my walls white.”

“I will,” he pulled away to look at you with dark glistening eyes. “Don’t stop, I fucking will.”

He was twitching inside you, holding his orgasm at bay. He could do it better now that he had already come once and looking at you, he knew he wouldn’t fail you this time. It was a wonder to him how he was on edge so soon, but it didn’t matter. Because he was with you, giving you pleasure, touching you and eager to see and feel you unravel again. 

Moreover, you actually asked him to do one of his favorite things in the world. He looked down at the precious gorgeous treasure in his hands and couldn’t help himself. He had to play with them, to squeeze, to lick them and bite them, and feel every time you squirmed. Every moan, every shudder, your fingers sinking in his hair to keep him there, and he stayed gladly. It had him twitching like crazy, hanging on a dangerous balance between too much stimulation and just barely enough until you screamed.

He meant to look down to see you coming this time, but as you pressed him to your chest so hard he could barely breathe, there was no way he’d oppose you. Also, he was in heaven, so he didn’t want to. You were squeezing him so well, gripping him so firmly while you squirted around him that it was bliss to finally let go. He breathed you in, perfume and feminine scent imbued together on your chest, right as he rutted into you.

Your orgasm was powerful, taking such a grip on you, that you didn’t realize you were screaming and possibly suffocating him until dozens of seconds later. By then, you could still feel him twitching inside you but what had you biting on your lip was the way he mumbled your name. His eyes were closed, he looked fucked out and exhausted after trying to reach deep inside you, and after being drained of his last drop, your name was the last word spilling out of his lips.

It made you want to hold him and never let go.

You nuzzled him and then reached to kiss his sweaty forehead. As you hugged him, you realized through your haze how much you trusted him. You knew you did it professionally, but now you felt like it was wholehearted. Being vulnerable and intimate was always a difficult choice for you, but this was nice. And good. And wholesome. You sighed.

But as you both recovered your breath and came to, you became aware of being all sticky, hot, and sweaty, and that as soon as you got up, it would get worse. You didn’t want to move, but reality would come knocking soon, and hopefully not literally.

You kissed his forehead again as if to wake him up, and he palmed your waist and lower back gently. That was when you felt confident enough to get up, immediately reaching for the Kleenex box on the desk to put tissues in between your legs right before passing him a few.

You cleaned yourself as best you could and rearranged your dress before turning to him to help him, but he was already clean and putting his clothes back on. You reached for your underwear with a mute sigh; you needed a shower badly.

You tried combing your hair with your fingers and froze when you saw him effortlessly putting every piece of clothing in place, his hair so beautiful it looked like it had just been styled. You were probably gaping because when you blinked, he was already smiling and brushing your hair gently over your chest as if he was enamored by it.

You didn’t know what to say. “I need a shower,” you smiled sheepishly as if to justify why you looked unruly right now and why your hair was being difficult. You felt immediately silly; why would Jimin care about your hair? He lowered his hand though, and you nodded, “I guess I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Wait,” he voiced when you were already grabbing your purse from the floor and turning to leave. He was running his fingers through his hair in a gesture seemingly detached, but you knew him better by now. He might have been nervous. “I want to invite you to mine but it would be a problem because of photographers and all that.”

“That’s okay.”

You spoke before you could think, but your cheeks still reacted in time. You knew he noticed your blushing but there was no teasing to be found in him, just something akin to a purpose. And it made you raise your eyebrows, reviewing what he had just said.

You licked your lips, “Would you like to come to mine?”

He instantly grinned and closed the distance between you, then cupped your cheeks, “Thought you’d never ask.”

All you saw was his endearing smile right before he kissed you.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 6/17/25

crazy how much reading a good book can improve ur mood

listening

reader, i am also surprised that i like a 100 gecs song. unfortunately, along with frequently asking myself shit like where is my beautiful wife? i frequently ask myself where the FUCK my head is at

-

reading

still attempting to get my bookshelves under control (the goal is nothing double stacked. still unsuccessful so far) partly bc i want an excuse to drag my bestie out to one of my favorite used bookstores and trade some stuff in for credit. five books came to work with me last week and two of them will stay.

Ship Breaker by Paolo Bacogalupi. YA debut, postapoc climate change. read when i was the appropriate age and loved it back then. holds up! hate his adult books bc it is absolutely wretched to be a female character in his books but hey. sometimes if you have to tone down the yuckydisgustingness of your books and cut out any gratuitous sexual assault for a teen audience your books improve. sometimes that’s the way the cookie crumbles. may not hit as hard if you did not grow up within a mile of working docks for all of your most formative years.

Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr. oooough i loved this one. exactly the right book for me at the right time. i love a framing device of “found this book in a cave/had it told to me/and now i will tell it to you 😌”. follows a fake ancient greek tale and how to barely survives through the ages to the near future. ive been wading through so much terrible scifi and fantasy it was really nice to read a book by someone who knows what the fuck he is doing and has the technical chops to successfully execute a 500 page book. i would be fascinated to see Doerr try his hand at TV bc, like suzanne collins, he is extremely good at leaving a character in peril at the end of a chapter without it feeling cheap. about libraries and books, but not really in the way a performative #content reader who picks fights about if audiobooks are books will enjoy? about books and libraries and the way they can get you through periods of wracking loneliness in both your childhood and adulthood.

Daughter of Witches by Patricia C Wrede. fantasy for adults (not in a horny way. just the age range. very short! 200p) that felt a little choppy and unfinished. felt a bit what we might categorize today as New Adult? i understand wrede wrote some extremely successful YA and im fascinated by that like. interplay between this book and her later ones.

Daughter of Fortune by Isabel Allende. didn’t vibe with the style on this one. kind of sad about it bc i want to read more cowboy westerns that are women focused but there are so few of them im interested by

A Secret Atlas by Michael A. Stackpole. cool geography focused premise, unfortunately lovingly dedicated to former Senator fucking John fucking McCain so i did not even start it. i hate stackpole’s star wars books but couldn’t really put a finger on why and now i know it’s the latent republicanism.

-

watching

finished the apothecary diaries. had a tremendous amount of fun with it! what a show!!! the sheer gamesmanship by maomao and how she beautifully and effectively outmaneuvered everyone???? SO fucking excited for s2 in 1.5-2 years

this show is such a perfect blend of trying to solve a murder mystery before it happens and How It’s Made. i would watch several hours of maomao making various potions and ungents and explaining what everything is and how it works. i loooooove a weird little gremlin of a lady. not a trait i value in a partner, but i love watching two people get very possessive about each other and deny it :) hehe you fucking idiots

a final thought: the Gender happening in episode seventeen. much to consider. much to consider.

-

playing

genshin is both delightful and really frustrating, in that i can uncover new chests in areas ive been running around in for five years. only ventured back here bc i needed mats for a weapon i got very early in-game and then neglected. apparently i had just Never beaten these four big mecha on this one island bc i needed a crazy DPS (navia) and three carefully tuned support characters (all five star characters of course leveled to the max) and for it to start raining in-game. i pay less attention to elemental reactions than i should bc the fun of this game’s combat (for me) is hitting things Very hard with my umbrella shotgun. the umbrella shotgun really lets me tank a lot of things im sure the developers would prefer i do not tank. anyway new major story (but not :( a new map) update this week yahoo yippee yay

please ignore the crab the octopus the off screen seahorse and the little mobile ice machine.

-

making

i have completed my brother’s birthday gift a year late, just in time for his next one, and it is now washed and blocking on my kitchen table. did not do a good job with thread tail management on this one. fortunately it looks fine from the front. i have immediately started one for me bc i don’t have the floss i need to start a different project, and had to abandon the one meant for me mid-WIP due to the moth debacle four years ago. this is the fifth time i will be stitch this pattern i have gotten WAY more than my money’s worth out of it lmao

[smolstarthief]

(AU) A Forgotten Encounter

Viktor wasn't expecting much as he worked on his toy boat in the Sumps, just calm and mostly quiet save for laughter of the children playing above him. Sky asked if he wanted to join but he politely declined as he encourages her to go on ahead and that he'll be fine. She looked reluctant but eventually climbed up to join the other kids after reassuring her again.

What good can he do anyhow? He knows he couldn't swim, at least not very well if that one incident where he nearly drowned is any indication. He honestly felt lucky that Benzo and Vander were nearby to pull him out and get him to a safe area to breathe. Speaking of Benzo, he reminds himself to head home as soon as the sun goes down as was suggested. For now he just shakes his head in order to concentrate again, singing to himself:

"Dear friend across the river, my hands are cold and bare... Dear friend across the river, I'll take what you can spare... I ask of you a penny... My fortune, it will be... I ask you without-"

He sees a lone Firelight land on his cane. He softly chuckles as he carefully gets closer, "Heh, are you lost?"

It doesn't seem to pay him any mind as it just crawls around on it with a small glow. Viktor just smiles as he tries to go back to his work, continuing to sing.

~

Jayce pants as he tries to find the bug he was chasing after, he knows his mother is gonna be upset at him for suddenly running off but his curiosity got the better of him. He weaves through the crowds, apologizing throughout, until he reaches the Sumps area. He hastily looks around until he picks up a faint green glow in a shaded area and smiles. His attempt to sneak up to it ended up once again unsuccessful as it flies off, "Hey! Come back! I'm not gonna..."

He trails off at the sound of a voice singing:

"I ask you without envy... We raise no mighty towers, our homes are built of stone... So come across the river and find the world below..."

He looks down from the ledge above him to see a boy his age working on something, "...Hurt you."

The boy looks up at him with wide eyes.

~

They both just stare, completely unsure what to do or say until Jayce notices the Firelight, "Oh! You found it!"

Viktor looks at the Firelight, then back at him and that's when he notices his attire and overall appearance which seemed way too neat and even healthy for Zuan. His surprised and curious expression then morphs into a slight frown, "It's a living creature, not a toy."

Jayce immediately stammers a bit due to Viktor's sudden mood change, "I-I knew that! I mean... S-Sorry... I just wanted to get a closer look at it. It looked really neat..."

"Oh?"

"Yeah! I accidentally scared it so... So I ran after it..."

"Huh..."

He opts to try and ignore him as he goes back to work, "Firelight..."

"Huh?"

"This bug is called a Firelight, they are native to this city. Pretty harmless."

"Whoa, that's cool! By the way, did you build that?"

Viktor tilts his head, "What?"

"Your toy boat, did you build that?"

"Why should I tell a Topsider?"

"Huh? I just wanted to say it looked cool!"

This causes him to pause, "Pardon?"

"I think it looks really cool and if you built that then that's amazing! Also if that was you singing earlier then it's a pretty song too! You sound great!"

Viktor's hard expression seems to slowly dissolve at the unexpected praises, "I..." His face seems to flush a bit, "Thank you..."

Jayce giggles, "By the way, my name's-"

"JAYCE TALIS!!"

He gasped, "Mama!"

Viktor blinked as a woman appears behind him looking a little angry but mostly worried as she kneels down to look him over, "Jayce how many times must I tell you not to wander off while we're in the marketplace?"

"I know, I'm sorry! There was this pretty bug and-"

"Nevermind that..." Her expression changes to a warm one, "Are you alright?"

He eagerly nods, "I'm ok! Oh! There's also this boy down here and he-"

"I'm sorry Jayce but we need to go, you can tell me more over dinner ok?"

He sadly nods as he looks back at Viktor who is simply still watching with a small ache in his heart as he's reminded of his own mother.

They both make eye contact for a couple more seconds as Jayce disappears from view, leaving Viktor alone as he once again looks at the Firelight, "He does seem strange yes? Hah, I guess we both are..."

~

Viktor just pants as he looks directly at his opponent, who looks to be just as exhausted as he is. His leg finally gives out as he starts to collapse, his Chemtech braces now completely depleted and the rune stones wrapped around his wrist unravelling as they fall to the ground. The cracks in his mask spread until it finally falls off, revealing his face to the other man. He hears the loud thud of the giant hammer hitting the ground in shock as he hears the Councilor gasp in horror.

"Well... Minus well finish me... Right?"

Jayce is just frozen on the spot as he can actually make out Viktor's features in the bright lights and all of a sudden sees this mysterious child he encountered so long ago...

This is part of my currently unnamed AU where Viktor gets taken in by Benzo and then founded the Firelights with Ekko where he's later a member of after some convincing, I decided to throw my hat in the ring and have him and Jayce get a brief encounter as children but both forget about it as adults since it was so short. Primarily because Viktor had a developed a dislike towards Topsiders like Ekko, especially since they're considered the biggest reason he's an orphan to begin with while Jayce took longer to forget because he really wanted to interact with him but it faded as he got older and more involved with Hextech/Politics. They meet again and finally recognize each other as adults but not under good circumstances. Before you all ask about Sky, she's also a member since she and Viktor interacted more as kids in this AU and he asked her to join.

Also yes, I decided to have Viktor work on Chemtech since it's apparently considered Zuan's counterpart to Hextech. He even develops a variant of the Hexclaw with it to use in combat or just leaving a signature somewhere for fun.

His leg and back braces were developed with Chemtech as well and can kinda function similar to Sevika's prosthetic arm. I'm not super sure on the fuel source since I did have this take on Viktor utilizing Shimmer at some point in the past (specifically as a teen) to manage his leg and later back pain but he had since starting going clean after starting the Firelights (that and Silco happened which traumatized him severely). Perhaps his own refined chemical source? It would mostly be to help him fight or at least stave off the pain during missions and the leg brace can connect with his own modified hoverboard so that he can use it without any fear of falling off. Basically he's still disabled in this AU but utilizes things to manage his pain at least.

The fight with Jayce on the bridge causes him to use it too much though which is bad news for him as the agony comes back twofold due to over-usage.

As I mentioned, he's also a mage himself but had to keep it hidden due to both magic being considered taboo/illegal and Silco wanting to take him and use it at one point. He does carve some runes into small stones to utilize in combat and carries a staff he built himself for mobility aid (in the place of his cane which he still uses outside of missions), showcasing his developing skill on Runic Magic.

Considering the time theming with Ekko, Chronomancy will also be considered for this AU as well as that would be a neat way for the two to bond. The tail end of the bridge fight causes him to reveal himself due to protective instincts kicking in as he was trying to protect Ekko (and just any survivor in the vicinity) from Jinx setting off one of her bombs.

Maaaan that's a lot of word vomit for just one single edit! Oops! ^^;

[teaforce-steph]

It's been 2 years since I've really drawn anything due to an injury, but My Time at Sandrock's goofy-cosy desert charm, NPCs and plot have a vice grip on me. My attempts to get others to try it have been hugely unsuccessful (the art style is odd, I guess? 🥲) so now my only hope of freedom is drawing about to get it all out of my system.

These are just quick sketches, but my lines feel a lot less shakey than they were 6ish months ago. I might make some of these into proper drawings at some point.

Also mostly unrelated but the mesa, rocks and oasis really remided me this quick experimental colour study I did 5 years ago and dug out of my Instagram archive. Most of my art related thoughts beforehand were about creating a welcoming space or concept for the viewer to 'sit' in, and I distinctly remember thinking 'i will draw a landscape that I usually find harsh and unwelcoming':

The thing is, 5 minutes of REALLY looking with purpose at arid reference photos had me suddenly appreciating the kind of environment I would actively ignore on long road trips. It's not a particularly good or noteworthy picture either, but it's a turning point in understanding why/how I approached art and suddenly appreciating the beauty and crazy cool colour pallettes in arid landscapes and vegetation. The reason I bothered to dig the image out for this post is because, aside from the surface level visuals, that sudden deep appreciation for harsh places and things is the exact same feeling I get playing My Time at Sandrock. What a neat game.

[lopsicle]

My Cool Gay Roommate

TickleTober Day 9 Wake Up

Characters: Lee! Wallace, Ler! Scott.

Summary: A request from one of my favourite mutuals VBS ( @veryblushyswitch also sorry, I only just realised I should probably at you since I already responded to your ask thing). I meshed together the wake up prompt with her idea of Scott discovering Wallace was ticklish. Hope you enjoy this one!

Warnings: None, just a tickle fic. Also that this may be OOC since it’s been a while since I’ve watched this show.

Wallace had never been a morning person. For as long as he could remember, he could never properly get his brain switched on until at least 10:00AM, or sooner with a few cups of coffee forced into his system. The second most important rule Wallace had emphasised to Scott when they first became roommates (the first being ‘Don’t fall in love with me’) was to never ever wake him up in the mornings. This morning was different though, the night prior, Wallace asked Scott to get him up at eight since he had agreed to meet with Mobile that day for breakfast. He knew he’d end up being bitchy that early in the morning so he reassured Scott that he’d apologise to him later for it.

Scott’s eyes peered over to a sleeping Wallace at his side, nervously. He’d done a lot of stupid things but making Wallace mad was something he was hoping to avoid under any circumstances. Still, Wallace would just be more mad at him later if he flunked out on this, he reasoned. Cautiously, he placed a hand on Wallace’s bare shoulder and shook him about softly, speaking quietly to him in a scratchy voice.

“Wallace…time to get up.” Scott ushered him, sitting up and leaning against the backboard of the bed to get a better view of Wallace’s sleeping face. His eyes scrunched up at the sound of Scott’s voice before he pulled the blanket closer to him, exposing Scott’s legs to the cool air.

“You know, that’s my blanket too,” Scott chuckled, knowing he was a blanket hog most of the time. Wallace didn’t seem to find it funny though.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you pay for it?” He rebutted, his voice barely audible yet still somehow forceful, hoping he wouldn’t have to speak in this tired state again. Wallace’s body felt so, so drained and it was like staying huddled up in this blanket was charging him; he’d be good to go in a few hours. But it didn’t seem like Scott was willing to wait that long.

“Dude, seriously, you asked for this,” Scott shuffled closer, trying to dip her legs under the blanket and reclaim some of their warmth; a nudge from Wallace shut down that idea quickly. He placed his hand on Wallace’s shoulder once more, shaking his head while his thumb accidentally rubbed against his bicep. Wallace gripped onto the blanket a little tighter, a small gasp escaping his lips from the touch before a few giggles escaped his mouth.

“Hey, what’s funny?” Scott blinked obliviously. “I’m being serious, were you just messing with me or something?” His grip on Wallace’s shoulder tightened, doing no favours for the sleepy boy, forcing even more giggles out of his mouth. Wallace promptly buried his face underneath his blanket, praying that those tiny noises would go unnoticed by Scott. Unfortunately, they didn’t, because Scott can’t do anything right.

“Wait, dude, are you fucking ticklish?” Scott asked in a shocked whisper, never having expected someone like Wallace to have a literal sensitive side to him.

“I’m the n-nohormal amount of t-tihicklish, don’t make some bihihig deal out of this,” Wallace huffed, not sure if he was trying to convince Scott or himself. Either way, he was unsuccessful. Those fingers that had just been tormenting his shoulder snaked their way to his underarms, fluttering about delicately against his soft skin.

“Oh, no, no, no, I’m absolutely making a big deal out of this! You? Ticklish? Strong, confident Wallace can’t handle a bit of tickling?” Scott played up his teasing once he saw just how flustered Wallace was already getting, something that greatly annoyed his roommate because of how well it worked.

“I cahahan tahake it, your just ahahannoying!” Wallace retorted, trying to wriggle his way under the blanket to protect himself only to have it unceremoniously ripped off of him by Scott, who discarded it onto the floor. Wallace shivered from the feeling of the cold air against him almost bare body, glaring at Scott, ready to give him an earful for trying that but he didn’t get an opportunity before he straddled his waist.

“I don’t know why your being so difficult, you asked for this, I’m just waking you up,” Scott smirked at him, his hands slipping underneath Wallace’s grey T-shirt and digging into the soft, pudgy skin of his abdomen.

“IHIHI’M UHUP, I’M UHUHUP!!” Wallace cried out through his laughter, trying to hold onto his anger towards Scott but it was like it was seeping out with his laughter. His body felt like it was starting up now, able to wriggle and half heartedly fight against Scott pinning him down.

“Are you sureeeee? You still seem pretty tired to me, sure you don’t need me to tickle all that sleep out of you?” Scott prompted him in a playful tone, to which Wallace shook his head rapidly, his eyes squeezed shut and his cheeks glowing with a blush. Scott’s fingers began scurrying about beneath the fabric of his shirt, goosing and plucking his sides suddenly before switching back to skittering about all over his tummy, leaving Wallace all twitchy and squealing.

“Scohohot, I swehaHAHAR TO GOHOHOD-!!” Wallace laughed loudly, any sense of composure he might’ve had being thoroughly tickled out of him but Scott didn’t stop there, he was having way too much fun seeing Wallace smiling and squirming like this.

“Oh, you swear what? Whatcha gonna do, hm? Lay there and laugh? Yeah, that sounds pretty accurate,” Scott giggled to himself, jabbing his fingers deep between Wallace’s ribs, before sliding his fingers up and down the sides of them, wriggling against the little bumps of bone. Wallace seemed to be an absolute walking tickle spot, it was surprising Scott hadn’t figured out this little secret of his before now, but he had a lot of time to make up for now. Wallace, on the other hand, couldn’t even think clearly anymore, blushing up at a storm as he gave up trying to wriggle out of Scott’s hold, just letting himself be pinned down. Scott noticed that.

“Not trying to get away anymore, are we? What, decided we’re enjoying ourself now?” There was something about the way he was speaking that made Wallace feel a little more…connected to him. Sure, teasing was mean and evil and Scott should die for this but it was a little nice to let himself be subjected to Scott’s playful remarks rather than the other way around for once. Wallace snorted, shaking his head as he buried his face in his hand. Scott huffed heartedly in response and focused on plucking at his ribs once more.

“Yeah, you totally do,” Scott said casually, casually enough that Wallace was able to ignore it, “whatcha thinking, does it tickle more of the left side of your ribs-,” Scott gave a quick scribbling across Wallace’s left ribs, “or your right?” followed by him worming his fingers between his ribs. Wallace cackled and then shrieked respectively, bouncing about from side to side whilst his heels dug into their mattress, trying to find any sort of relief from all of the attention.

“T-THE RIHIHIGHT!!” He answered honestly, letting Scott take the wheel with this one and just going along with whatever he was saying to try and distract him selves. Scott made a clicking sound with his tongue at that confirmation.

“Oh, really?” With one of his hands, Scott began squeezing up and down Wallace’s right side, and his other began scribbling all against the same side of ribs, really trying to force out whatever laughter he had left in him out.

“OHOHOKAY, STOHOHOHOP NOHOHOHW!!” Scott’s killer move had, in fact, been killer, Wallace thrashed all about beneath Scott, filled with the compulsive need to move and inch away from Scott’s tormenting hands as much as possible. Luckily, Scott did that for him, slipping his hands out from Wallace’s shirt and even smoothing out the hem of it for him. Wallace laid on the bed like a damsel in distress, his right arm draped over his forehead as he caught his breath, feeling the red in his cheeks slowly begin to fade. Scott scooted off his hips, sitting down on his knees next to Wallace with a little smirk. Once Wallace meet his gaze, he raised an eyebrow.

“What?” He asked, a little uncertain, clearly hoping he would just be able to slip all of that under the rug.

“You totally enjoyed that, dude,” Scott grinned, to which Wallace groaned and turned away, standing up from his bed.

“Shut up, man,” Wallace mumbled, stretching, Scott slid over to him on the bed to be closer to Wallace, speaking in an unusual, high pitched voice.

“Oh, Scott, I hate being tickled so much that I’m going to sit here and make absolutely no attempts to stop you from tickling me to bits,” Scott clasped his hands together over his chest in a mocking sense, managing to earn an eye roll and a blush from Wallace.

“You were pinning me down, genius.” Wallace called out, already making his way to the door to try and go do something productive, and hopefully bury all those embarrassing, flustering feelings in his chest that were threatening to bubble up.

“Oh, and thanks for actually getting me up. That was effective.”

Scott smiled at the praise, calling out to Wallace as he left the room.

“No problem, man!”

[brionysea]

I was recently asked what stranger things is about by someone who, somehow, has never been exposed to it. at the time, I didn't have an answer. I could have described the first season - 'a young boy vanishes from a small town and then monsters show up' - but for the overall story, I was stumped, because we don't KNOW what's going on yet. if I was asked that question again, now that I've had time to think about it, I would describe stranger things as: 'jumanji, but the game comes to you'. that's what I think is happening in the show: everyone is playing a game

with all of my stranger things-acquired knowledge (which is almost better for the purposes of figuring out what the show is trying to do), I know that dungeons and dragons is a game played by a group, with the story being told and planned (sometimes there's no plan) by one person. the first few minutes of the show make it clear that this person is mike. after the cold open in hawkins lab of an unseen force attacking scientists, it cuts to mike narrating the demogorgon's attack to his friends in his basement. they get cut off in the middle of the story, mike's parents don't listen to his pleas for more time to finish the game, will decides to tell mike what would have happened next despite lucas' advice not to, and the story follows will home

there's a LOT to go into with this, but put simply, I've noticed that mike knows WAY too much about what's going on throughout the show, has a deeply intuitive understanding of the various story elements that few other characters do (nancy), and the narrative seems to reflect and line up with his emotions - especially when they're ignored and/or things aren't going the way he wants. we're watching a story-based game play out, and mike is the one telling it. (until he's not, because some people - like max and nancy - don't WANT to play d&d and prefer to make their own decisions rather than having the story told for them, which is why they take over in mike's absence - and even when he's still there one season prior)

it's kind of a writing cop-out, because even though I believe it's being done intentionally, any plot hole or nonsensical story beat could be explained away by saying, 'well, in universe, it's being written by a 12 year old!' - but the show is aware of this. at the end of the first season, the rest of the boys inform mike that his story (which is pretty clearly the story of the first season, in a cheeky, self-aware sort of way) makes no sense, they clearly find the ending unsatisfying, and he left numerous loose threads untied. when lucas recounts the story of season one to max in the second season, she says that although it was crazy, she really liked it, she just wishes it had a little more originality because it felt derivative in parts. to us, that's because stranger things is nostalgia bait for people who grew up in that time period. but looking at it through this lens, in universe, it's derivative because it's a child wanting to tell stories and taking inspiration from that really cool movie he saw last month

there are a few other storytellers in the main cast, and while nancy's journalism is more facts-based and focused on revealing the truth of the actual world they live in, will's art - like mike's writing - seems sort of halfway between *processing* the world and *escaping* from it. joyce says that, for his birthday one year, will got a lot of star wars toys from his friends and a box of crayons from joyce. he ignored the toys and just wanted to draw, and he drew a rainbow spaceship, which joyce was so proud of that she took it into work with her and showed everyone. it wasn't a star wars spaceship, not one from a movie, it was WILL'S spaceship. will tries to fill mike's role as the d&d storyteller during the third season, but mike easily takes over (again, giving the story - WILL'S story, this time - an unsatisfying ending), and then, once mike's attempts to backtrack and keep the game going are unsuccessful, will is once again the only person willing to tell mike the truth, and the story once again follows him home

between the two of them, mike is trying to tell his story by looking at what other people HAVE done and ARE doing, while will possesses the originality that max wished for from lucas' season one retelling. later, dustin says that lucas probably didn't tell it right - it's lucas telling mike's story, which is derivative of a million other stories, so it's essentially a copy of a copy of a copy... and so on and so forth. but mike is good with words and will can paint a picture, and together they can make something original - because mike clearly can't finish the story himself without giving it a terrible ending, despite all his efforts to the contrary (so far, he's incapable of accepting anything less than perfect, which is turning out to be really unfair on el especially by locking her into this rigid idea of what her story should be), and will can't seem to start the story on his own (due to his tendency of fading into the background in one way or another)

the reasoning for WHY all of this is happening (plot reasons, not thematic or character reasons), is a bit more undefined in my mind. it seems to have something to do with time, alternate worlds/timelines, and - knowing mike's characterisation - it's probably a form of protection for someone(s). dustin says in the first season that mike is never late, and yet every season opens with mike running late - running out of time - like clockwork. as if things haven't quite been put back to the way they're supposed to be yet

this is mostly me piecing together other people's theories, because the time stuff really is beyond me - but I suspect that something terrible (will's father; joyce and jonathan both weren't home for once, lonnie came into town looking to make money off of will's death, jonathan believes that lonnie could kill will, and the guy keeps getting brought up despite barely being a character) originally happened to will when he was vanished in season one. will ended up dead in the quarry, for real, and mike saw it, for real. mike then decided that the reality of will being gone was too much to face, so he somehow turned back the clock and turned the monster into something he felt confident the kids could save will from - a metaphorical monster come to life from within their unfinished game, their escape from reality, which is why the kids absolutely dominate at figuring this stuff out while older, by no means unintelligent characters struggle

mike is a very all or nothing character, and there always seems to be something he's not happy with (will being gone; el being gone; max's home life having the potential to take her away; hopper being gone; mike's friend group drifting apart/leaving him behind; mike's general emotional state and poor life choices - most of which ARE or COULD HAVE BEEN solved by A Monster, human or otherwise, showing up), so there's always something more to fix that keeps the story going. it's not until mike can learn to be content with who he is, with being originally and uniquely himself and not derivative of the people around him, that the cycle will break

[snapmite1998]

Kinda disappointed that we never saw much more interactions between Johann, Krogan, and Viggo during the final season of Race to the Edge. Of course, it was an alliance that was never going to last, but it would’ve been cool to see how each of these guys were working their own angle, slowly bidding their time before waiting for the perfect opportunity to take each other out.

Tension

The Dragon Hunters base of operation was a hive of activity; Hunters were on patrol or moving supplies throughout the base or loading them onto their ships. The Dragon Flyers too were either in the sky on patrol, “training” their newly acquired Singetails to heed them or face the consequences, or training in combat.

As the noonday sun hung high in the cloudless sky, Johann, who had just returned from the Northern Markets and surviving the Sandbuster, fled his secret unground cache of treasure, leaving Hiccup Haddock and his precious Night Fury to face the sand dwelling dragon themselves. Despite failing to retrieve the Dragon Eye lenses from the boy who had been a thorn in his side for far too long, Johann, with his arms clasped behind his back approached the lead tent, where Krogan and Viggo no doubt were. The Hunters outside the tent stood at attention as Johann approached, but he didn’t even acknowledge them as he opened the tent's flaps, only to find his two allies at each other's throats.

"If you would just get out of my way, Grimborn, my Flyers and I would be completing our task at a faster pace," Krogan snarled at the deformed, and severely burned Viggo, who had his back turned to a map that was illuminated on the tent's walls thanks tot he Dragon Eye, "your suggestion of patience and slow planning allows Hiccup Haddock and the Dragon Riders to get ahead of us!"

Turning sharply to Krogan with an irritated huff, Viggo glared at the head of the Dragon Flyers. "And your desire to run head first into confrontations will lead to your demise, Krogan," his sharp retort was followed by an insult. "You may have the advantage of having the Dragon Flyers on your side, but I find your lack of patience and your hubris insufferable."

Bearing his teeth, Krogan reached for his axe. "Why you… miserable, misshapen wretch!" Gripping the weapon in his hands, he seethed. "Perhaps I should hack out that serpent's tongue of yours."

Drawing his bejeweled sword, Viggo narrowed his eyes at Krogan and hissed coldly. "By all means, Krogan," taking up a fighting stance, he then smirked. "Try me."

Before Krogan could swing his axe, Johann barked out. "Enough! Both of you," both Krogan and Viggo turned to see the smaller man enter, and reluctantly, they lowered their weapons, embarrassed that they had been discovered in such a state, as if they were children now being scolded by a displeased parent. "We are supposed be working with each other," Johann reminded in an annoyed tone, "not threatening to spill each other's blood," pinching the bridge of his nose, Johann looked both men over before raising a questioning eyebrow. "I take it that your progress is not satisfactory?"

"As I was saying to Viggo," Krogan said as he glared at the deformed man. "He insists that we bide our time; waiting for an opportune moment. Taking the lenses that Hiccup Haddock possessed would've given us a significant advantage." He then set his axe down on a table and crossed his arms. "I take it you were unsuccessful from taking the lenses from the boy?"

With a frustrated growl, Johann nodded. "He played me by switching bags on me," recalling how he found the necklace that that fool Tuffnut Thorston had bought for his pet cock instead of what they needed. "No matter," Johann said quickly with a dismissive wave of his hand. "We will not let such a feeble setback stop us from retrieving the King of Dragons. Not Hiccup Haddock and his Dragon Riders," he then glared at both Krogan and Viggo. "And certainly not this childish infighting."

The tension remained thick in the air as Krogan and Viggo glared at each other before Johann stepped between the two and then smiled at the deformed Grimborn. "You of all should know how to keep your emotions in check, Viggo," Johann then began to tsking while shaking his head. "I understand that our company may not be the most… pleasant. But we have a task at hand, and we cannot allow ourselves to be distracted by petty arguments and vendettas." Krogan, with his arms still crossed, looked between the two men. "Can I trust that you will not get under Krogan's skin? I need him focused, not bloodthirsty."

With clenched fists, Viggo sighed heavily before giving Johann a firm nod. "Yes, of course," sheathing his sword behind his back, he offered a smile, though his deformed face and burns, along with the dim lighting inside the tent, Viggo looked like a thing of nightmares. But Johann was scared of him, he had conquered fear, and soon he would be the one that would inflict fear. "I understand completely. I will not provoke Krogan with… tedious strategy or careful planning." He then walked passed the two men before murmuring under his breath. "As if acting without a plan will speed our progress." He opened the flaps to the tent and walked out, leaving Krogan and Johann alone.

"He was useful, for a time," Krogan said before stepping close to Johann and murmuring. "What will become of him when he is of no further use?"

Smirking, Johann replied in an icy tone. "We will provide him with false information regarding the location of a Dragon Eye lens, and bury that wretch alive," looking up at Krogan, the smaller man shrugged. "Unless of course, you would like the honors of killing him yourself?"

Snorting softly, Krogan too took his leave before speaking over his shoulder. "So long as he ends up dead, that is enough for me," as he opened the flaps to the tent he spoke with firm determination. "You're right. We have a task at hand, and retrieving the King of Dragons is of the upmost importance." With that said, Krogan left, leaving Johann alone.

Chuckling softly, Johann examined the map that would lead them to the King of Dragons that was illuminating on the wall. "Soon, you will be mine," Johann grinned maliciously. "Very soon, oh King of Dragons."