#I CAME INTO THIS WITH THOSE INTENTIONS BUT ITS SO FUNNY TO ME NOW
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
thedrotter · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
i depend on you (based and very much inspired by @/sometimes317 's piece on twitter)
process pics in read more!!^^
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
you can tell the moment it struck me that i was practically drawing ship art www
#re:kinder#fanart#yuuichi mizuoka#shunsuke takano#my art#i was trying to play into the whole ending of the game part#how shun basically became a life crutch for yuu in the last moments and he chose to do it regardless of what was done to him#with it making shun the yellow with the light blue eyes character of the original#which in interpretations of the og artwork brought in the question if yellow truly depended on blue the same way blue did on em#for blue has the exact same yellow for its eyes while yellow has another hue that isnt the same color as blue#i wanted to play into that to portray the one sidedness of yuu and shun's relationship#I CAME INTO THIS WITH THOSE INTENTIONS BUT ITS SO FUNNY TO ME NOW#because halfway through this i realized what i was drawing was essentially ship art#i came into this with the intention of it being very deep to be then struck by the concept of draqing ship art its so funny to me#i felt a little embarassed somwthing about drawing ship art has always made me embarrassed for no reason#like. very cute but on another hand never expect art from me ever again /j /j#on the other side i was very amused about it as well#the way it hit me was voicing the “its been one of those weeks... pass the yaoi!!!” meme in my head#which was simultaneously embarassing and very amusing to me#to end these tags off id like to communicate to you that the project file corrupted inmediately the second i finished this#i . i have no idea how it did that when it eas still opened now i literally cannot open it and thus change it ever again#the only thing my computer is missing is having very loud fans the second it starts up#it already heats up like a bomb im surprised im not hearing its fans with all it does#college computer save me college computer i miss the college computer#if i could i would genuinely go to uni just to draw but im not allowed to set up a driver for my tablet so i cant#one of these days i should just do rekinder fanart as one of my projects to have an excuse
15 notes · View notes
bunnyboy-juice · 4 months ago
Text
spent the first hour and change at work deleting some old files and am having a grand ol time laughing at myself for not realizing i was a lesbian sooner
#vulnerable tag rambles ahead please be kind abt them i didnt intent to ramble this much but i dont wanna delete it eitehr#me to every single man i have ever dated after 6mo-1y: yeah hey this really isnt working out i dont really know why but i really hate mysel#and i dont want to blame you because i dont think you did anything inherently wrong here; i think this is something about me but i need#space to figure out why im feeling this way [every single one reacted by telling me No i wasnt allowed to leave btw]#i hold very complex feelings about these relationships esp bc of them ending in very violent/chaotic ways most of the time#but its interesting to look back at it all and realize ive left every man for the same reason (which is that ive hated myself Every Single#Time ive dated a man) and its funny bc i recognized the self hate pretty early on w/ cishet men but when it came to queer men it was#much more confusing (esp w/ nto knowing Any lesbians at that point in my life). im so happy im a lesbian tbh#i have a lot of issues w/ the racism fatphobia and transmisogyny present in lesbian groups#and also coming out as a lesbian really truly saved my life. before i met my wife i was quite literally in a 3yr abusive relationship that#definitely would have died in if i hadnt realzied i was a lesbian and ran from him#its also weird seeing liek the hard evidence of the things that happened to me btween 2016-2020 tbh#cause that was such a bad time of my life. i truly dont know how i survived it but im so glad i did#like the three major relationships in my life b4 meeting my wife was: guy who was in college when i was in HS who stalked me when i left;#guy who was a year younger than me who cheated on me the entire time while telling me he was being victimized (he wasnt; this was very mess#guy who saw the very messy toxic ldr i was in and helped me dump my ex then decided that meant we were in a relationship [insert 3 yrs here#and admittedly all 3 years with him werent the same level of abusive but it was definitely unhealthy from the start considering I Didnt Kno#we were together until he wanted to celebrate vday and got mad i didnt know our anniversary - and like this isnt including the other stuff#that happened between those Relatonships[tm] (cause ive never been monogamous; these were just the Major Relationships)#like i genuinely think if i hadnt come out i'd be dead rn given just how dangerous my relationships were/continued getting#i am also so tired now that ive seen all this cause like. fuck i can barely believe it and i not only lived it but have PTSD about it#i should write about my life sometime. i feel like it'd be cathartic to try and make a tangible timeline and stories from the years ang stu#anyway yeah. be nice about the tag rambles. dont message me with pity or curiosity or anything about this. i dont usually talk abt this stu#publicly bc i hate the ways ppl start tryign to baby me when they realize my life has been extremely fucked up until only a few years ago#n im still working on accepting kindness from others bc of [insert life traumas here] but its a long process so pls respect my need for jus#being heard rn w/o too much pressure< 3 (but ig if u do read this can u like it cause i feel a little crazy seeing all the evidence of the#stuff i experienced now also cause fuck ik logically it was but also i cant believe it was all real still yk)
11 notes · View notes
gilverrwrites · 3 months ago
Note
would love to hear more of ur thoughts of jason... ANY jason thoughts, virgin, getting pegged, dom, on top on bottom, angry, emotional, loving, clingy...
any jason thoughts are appreciate tenfold pls i love the way you write its so sensual and enjoyable (//ω//)
Virgin!Jason/Sex Worker!Reader, 1.9K Words Why thank you anon, you're too kind. It’s funny you sent this in because I have been thinking about Jason a lot recently. Bit of a an odd one actually, I’ve been thinking about how easily he could get hooked on OFs or something similar. Stay with me here...
Tumblr media
‘Jason loves cars, and girls, and getting into fights…’
The problem is, ever since he came back, he doesn’t know how to talk to or act around women.
Think about it. He was a teenage boy when he died, still going through puberty, never truly finding closure on all those changes. Now he’s a man.
A man with emotions, and desires, and urges that he doesn’t understand and has no idea how to satiate. The not knowing makes him nervous, angry even.
The first and only time Roy tried the “Have you met Jay?” line it was painful. Like giving water to a hydrophobe. Dying of thirst, wanting it so bad, but his hands are shaking, he can barely even make eye contact, let alone hold a conversation. Or touch her. Man, he wanted to touch her, she had such a pretty smile and glowing skin and the most brilliant laugh. He wound up muttering a ‘sorry, bye.’ To the floor and walking out. When Roy finally caught up, he got one hell of an earful. Yelling was all Jay could do not to start throwing punches he'd regret later. Roy had only had the best of intentions after all.
It was Dick who’d mentioned that the posters of half-naked women splayed across car bonnets or dowsed in lite beer might be a bit distasteful. He’d wanted to argue, if they’re bad, why do they sell them? But he was smarter than that really, and Dick was right, if he ever did bring a girl home, he wouldn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. Though the mattress without a bed frame and the lack of amenities might do that anyway. Regardless, he takes them down and throws them out along with a stack of vintage Playboys from his youth. He’ll rely on the words of D. H. Lawrence, Cleland and the likes for that sort of thing.
And just reading works, for a while. But there are itches books just can’t scratch, and like hell is he mortified himself trying to talk to women in public again. He’d almost gotten up the courage once since the debacle with Roy.
At the library, looking for classics and checking out their damaged clearance sale. He’d noticed her the moment he’d entered, such a sweet, sharp woman, teaching seniors how to use computers. He’d lingered for a while, until the class was over, determined to make small talk with her while getting his books checked out, but then he remembered what he was checking out. Immediately he was flooded with doubt. She'd think he was a perv. He put his books on the put-back trolly and left without a word.
That same night, feeling sorry for himself is when he falls down the rabbit hole of social media. Scrolling endlessly through post after post of girls on Instagram. His own page consisted of only a faceless gym selfie and the engine of a bike he’d been restoring, but he followed a lot of accounts. Book reviewers, muscle car enthusiasts, musicians. It wasn’t purely coincidental that most of those content creators were women.
His heart jumps out of his chest when he gets a notification, that doesn’t happen often, and usually it’s from Dick sending him funny dog videos, or Steph tagging him memes but this one is a ‘follow back’.
He’d been following you for a while, liking all your posts and occasionally commenting. Nothing flirty, he didn’t wanna seem like one of those creeps saying gross, inappropriate shit, but that often resulted in him sounding lame for praising the high amount of protein in your home-cooked meal, or something else mundane. Today he’s pointed out how nice the clouds in the back of your group selfie looked but apparently that was enough to get your attention.
You like his two photos and drop him a message. “Hadn’t noticed but you’re right. Those clouds were very pretty.”
‘Not as pretty as you.’ He types out then quickly deletes it. You were very pretty, exactly the kind of girl he would choke up around. You didn't have a lot of followers, and your posts weren't really curated to a theme or gimmick. You just documented your life. For some reason though Jason had been drawn to you ever since your smiling face had popped up in his recommended following.
Instead replies with a very creative “Yeah”
“Sorry, hope I’m not bothering you. You just seem cool.”
“You’re not bothering me.” He answers instantly, not wanting to put you off but unsure what to say.
“Good! If you’re ever feeling chatty, hmu 😊”
Easier said than done, but he massively appreciates the offer. He just doesn’t know how to take you up on it. Looking for inspiration he looks at your account again, noticing a link in your bio that he’s sure hadn’t been there when he’d first followed you. He does a spit take when it leads him to an OF page. No, that definitely was not there before.
Now he’s even more unsure what to do. Would it be weird for him to subscribe after you’d just spoken to him? Or was that what you wanted? Surely you put it there because you want subscribers, right? Should he ask you or would that make it more awkward? Why is taking down drug lords and killer clowns less scary and confusing than this?
He stews on the conundrum for a while, but eventually, he takes the plunge, signing up with the same username as his Instagram, irlgothamzombie. He could spend all night looking at your posts, and he does. Judging by your post history, and low interactions, you’ve not been doing this long, but he circles through the same handful of posts over and over, keeping his own hands full throughout. wink wink.    
He can’t get enough of looking at your body, squeezed into little costumes, draped in colourful lingerie, naked and stark against your bedspread. There’s one video in particular he can’t get enough of though, it’s you in a lacy green slip, giggling as you play with the hem, teasing the camera with a cheeky glint in your eye but never really showing anything. He plays it over and over again, fisting his cock as he images it’s his hands sneaking up your thighs, making you laugh over and over until he cums into his hand.
Even though the caption is specifically asking him your followers what type of content they’d like to see you make while in that outfit, he only comments “nice wallpaper” and logs out, cheeks burning with shame as he cleans up.
It’s a few days before he works up the nerve to log back in. He’s still high on adrenaline after a face-off with Black Mask. Feeling bold and looking for release, it’s the first thing he does when he gets home but seeing two notifications from you is like having a bucket of ice water thrown at him.
You’d replied to his comment, “😂Hadn’t noticed but you’re right.”
When he hadn’t said anything else you’d sent him another DM. “Losing interest, or are you just the shy type?”
“The ‘you’re so hot I don’t know how to talk to you type.’” He’d read through the other comments you’d gotten, that felt tame. A little out of his comfort zone, but safe enough to press send.
“That’s actually so sweet.” You get back to him quickly, sending multiple messages at once. Hopefully that means you’re glad to hear from him. “You can talk to me however you like.”
“You never said what you wanted to see me do?”
“If you’re comfy answering.”
Shitshitshit. His throat is painfully dry as he thinks up a response. “idk but I like it on.”
“green is my favorite color.”
“looks good on you”
“Do you want to see me fuck myself while wearing it?” The question is accompanied by a racy picture of you wearing the slip in reference that you hadn’t posted anywhere else.
YES! “yeah”
“Should I use my hands, or something naughtier?”
“whatever you like best” it probably seems like such a cop-out answer but he means it. “want you to enjoy it as much as I will”
“Can’t tell if you’re my nicest subscriber or not, but I got you, sweet stuff 😉”
The next day you upload the results, and he watches it straight away, not that he’d been waiting for it or anything. He’s already half-hard when he hits the play button. Then you say “This one’s specifically for you irlgothamzombie” straight into the camera with a wink and he can’t get his dick out of his pants fast enough.
He tries to take it slow, wanting to enjoy the whole video but that’s easier said than done. He’s leaking pre-cum minutes into watching as you run your hands along your body, dipping your fingers between your legs, over your covered nipples but never revealing anything.
His resolve wavers when you start to rub yourself through the fabric, cooing and moaning as you build friction. He bites his lip so hard to ground himself that it starts to bleed.
Then you bring out the big guns, he doesn’t know what it’s called, but it’s some kind of toy. Long, with a round head that you hold to your clit and fuck, do you enjoy it. You’re practically drooling as you buck your hips and roll your eyes back. Your orgasm is loud and wet, and he almost breaks until he realises there are still a few minutes left.
You keep going, so he does too. Holding out until the very end. Is it possible that sex could feel better than this? Wild.
He messages you first this time.
He buys the green slip and the matching thong, still dirty after you’d cum all over them. Under the bawdy smell of sex he can just make scent of your perfume. It's intoxicating. Maybe he should ask you what brand it is so he can get a bottle and spray it all over his apartment.
He spends all day in bed, clutching the delicate lace to his chest and sucking on the underwear until his dick aches and he physically can’t cum again without hurting himself.
He isn’t sure how he feels about your return PO Box being in Blüdhaven. It's exciting and terrifying to think that you're real, and out in the world, within driving distance even. He could just bump into you one day. He could probably track you down if he wanted to but he kind of likes the comfort of you being behind a screen.
Eventually, he buys every service you offer, custom videos, a dick rating, your private Snapchat, and he practically purges your wish list. Not just the sexy stuff, but the gift cards, the clothes, the collectables, anything you want.
With every purchase you send him your thanks, ask him about his day, his interests both sexual and in general. You offer him services for free or heavily discounted, expressions of your gratitude for all he’s done but he always declines.
A part of him believes that you’d still talk to him if he stopped financing you, you're practically two steps away from asking for it outright, and he knows that. But the money is like a safety net. Like his helmet; a barrier between him and heartbreaking humiliation. As long as he keeps doling out the cash, he’ll never have to know if you’d reject him without it.
208 notes · View notes
genericpuff · 8 months ago
Note
i find it funny that one of rachel’s drawings of herself in the afterword that just went up is just fully persephone. is that something she does a lot?
Alright so I've been making it a general rule for myself to like, not harp on Rachel in any way outside of LO as much because frankly the horse is dead now and there's not much left to say outside of what can be analyzed in hindsight. I think despite everything I have to say about her and her work, she still deserves to get away from this nonsense and I don't wanna spend eternity hovering over her shoulder.
But the afterword was posted within the LO series and is clearly meant for readers of LO in the functioning of being an afterword so let's just call it fair game LOL
I will say, on the whole, it does feel very honest and sentimental and I can respect Rachel for taking the time to write out and illustrate her afterword in a way that was personal to both her and her fans. I can understand why she went at it from the angle that she did and I'm not gonna fault her for that.
But there's also something that feels deeply... disingenuous about her approach right from the starting gun. I will say, before I continue, that I'm well aware I am biased towards Rachel as a creator, and I fully acknowledge that I could very well be reading too much into things. This is just my opinion, take it with mountains of salt.
I can get looking back on your own childhood, your past self, whatever, and going "see! it all got better!" because sure! For a lot of creators like Rachel, it must be wild to look back on where they came from and there's a lot of sentimentality on expressing that through an afterword like this where she reflects on where she came from. Though she STILL didn't acknowledge her other comics outside of LO, I can understand if she wants to leave those skeletons in the closet.
But I feel like her drawing herself as a child who's being given an Eisner by her adult self and all that just feels like some gross attempt to disarm any criticism of her because "don't make fun of me, I'm just a sad lonely baby girl!"
She's not a child. Child Rachel didn't grossly misappropriate Greek myth into their own self-indulged vanity project. Child Rachel didn't claim herself a folklorist of a culture's works only to bastardize them completely. Child Rachel didn't create a hostile environment within her fanbase by bullying anyone who she perceived as a threat, sneaking into critical spaces to try and cause trouble, and writing her own clapbacks into her comic. Child Rachel didn't claim to be challenging misogyny and purity culture only to reinforce misogyny and purity culture through her own self-insert baby-virgin-gets-rescued-by-rich-tycoon power fantasy that regularly glorified abuse towards women and the lower class.
30-almost-40-year-old Rachel did though.
At best it comes across as really cringe sentimentality from a Greek-weeb (heh, greeboo) and goes to show how much Rachel inserted herself into Greek myth without ever absorbing its messages or cultural contexts, it was all about her and her feelings as a sad New Zealand girl with dyslexia who thought Persephone's story was about another sad girl being rescued from her "horrible childhood".
At worst it's an active attempt to play on people's heartstrings by drawing herself as a child who people will naturally not want to criticize. I don't want to assume she's doing it intentionally, I really don't want to leave her afterword on a bad foot, as I can definitely understand as both a creator and a person who struggled with learning disabilities in their own childhood how and why she wants to pay homage to her past and where she came from... but let's just say, as someone who's also gotten way too "lost in the sauce" concerning personal self-reflective projects, I think there's a lot to say about how this confirms that Rachel made LO entirely for herself, about herself, without any actual intention to respect the original myths, because she never truly separated them from herself when she was a child. And, in my humble opinion as someone who has Been There with the self-insert OC's and self-reflective angsty plotlines, I can fully attest to the fact that that's not fucking healthy. Even with personal projects, you NEED to learn to get your head out of the sauce, you NEED to learn to objectively separate yourself from the narrative so the story doesn't fall apart under your own hubris and ego, you NEED to learn to draw a line if you want to have any sort of identity as a human being outside of what you make for people. And that's with just normal original stories, this was a story based on Greek myth which doesn't belong to her.
And this goes for a lot of the things she's said and done in the past, so much of her own "sources" even are tethered to things that she read / watched in her childhood and only vaguely remembers, as if she never mentally left her childhood at all, which just... if the point was to highlight her past and the traumas she went through and how they contributed to her present, an Eisner isn't going to validate those experiences. And drawing attention to her past through the lens of her childhood self absolutely 100% does not absolve her of the negative effect her work has had on the modern Greek myth zeitgeist nor the things she's said and done as a 38 year old woman who should absolutely know better.
Tumblr media
The community she entered and took from will forever remain changed by her influence and taking, in many ways not for the better. She has the privilege of walking away and never having to think about it again, with all the awards and accolades that were bought for her, the bravado that she built around being a "folklorist" with zero credentials, and the platform she was given over many other creators struggling to even be heard.
That "place" she claims to have now was built entirely on inserting herself into another culture's works and doing nothing but taking, taking, taking, while offering nothing in return but vanity and lip service. That "place" was paid for and brought to you by Webtoons.
380 notes · View notes
hellspawnmotel · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
well you guys really called my bluff on this one, haha. I have a lot to say on the topic so this will probably turn into a long post but the answer really depends on this: what interests you about astro boy, pluto, and the franchise/tezuka's body of work as a whole? what do you want out of this experience?
if you're just looking for places to read/watch these things and that's it, I'll put some links here at the top so you don't have to dig through this whole mess.
you can read astro boy (original manga) here (there are occasionally missing pages on this website, if/when you run into those you can switch to this one which is harder to navigate but complete)
you can watch/download the 2003 anime (english sub) here
you can read naoki urasawa's pluto here
so you're interested in astro boy but aren't sure where to start: my opinion as someone whose point of view you respect for some reason
it didn't occur to me until recently that for a lot of people who follow me, your cultural touchstone for the concept of astro boy is most likely to be the 2009 american movie. I didn't watch that as a kid, I was 14 when it came out and fully into my "anime is superior to western animation" phase, but I've watched it now and well.... if you like it that's great! I did not. I'm not going to dwell on that, but I think it's worth noting that whatever your opinion on it as a movie is I don't really think it's a good representation of astro boy and its themes. moving on.
the manga
if you want the pure, unfiltered astro boy experience, this is as close as you're gonna get. it's gonna be a little haphazard though because the dark horse publication, which is probably the only way you're gonna find to read it in english, does not order the stories chronologically. I don't think that really matters because there's not a lot of continuity so as long as you understand the basic premise you can read in whatever order you want, and this puts a lot of really good stories first anyway so it's nice too. personally as far as all versions of astro boy proper go, the manga is my favorite. it's not always an easy read, for reasons I'll get into in a moment, and it's not always good either. some stories are phenomenal, some are just plain silly, and some are downright terrible. but given how long it ran for and how consistently and without breaks tezuka worked on not just it but all his other manga too I think that's too be expected. but even the bad ones I think are worth a look! this is the history of manga as a medium right here! and I love the manga, it's fun, funny, wonderfully drawn, compelling, shockingly dark at times, and just a fascinating read for those with an interest in classic comics.
all that said, I think it would be irresponsible of me to recommend it without also including a big fat disclaimer, which dark horse was kind enough to put at the front of the book.
Tumblr media
if you have an interest or familiarity with classic/vintage manga, anime, comics, and cartoons, you probably saw this coming, but some of this shit gets REAL racist, most often in terms of how people are drawn. some of tezuka's biggest inspirations were the rubberhose american cartoons of the 20s and 30s, and all that implies. for whatever the opinion of a white american is worth, based on his writing I really do believe he had good intentions- he consistently speaks out against racism and bigotry in general, in astro boy especially. you can tell he was very passionate about it. but I'm not gonna defend the guy either, you can't be drawing people like that, even if it was the 40s-80s. a lot of the experience of getting into tezuka is reading a story where the moral is "racism is evil! end discrimination!" accompanied by straight up racial caricatures in the art. it's baffling and infuriating. if I could I would travel back in time and hire the man a sensitivity reader, but I can't, and he's been dead for 35 years so we'll never know what he would've done about it today. all we can do is take it as an opportunity to learn and do better. but, if all that puts you off getting into the manga or the series at large, I don't blame you!
with that out of the way, the size of the manga might intimidate you. there's a lot of it. lucky for you you don't have to read all of it if you don't want to! I've read the entire thing because I'm a completionist at heart, but I've had several friends come to me for a smaller and more manageable reading list, which is as follows:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(stars for my personal favorites, grimaces for "I did enjoy this one and I think it's worth reading but I don't feel good about recommending it". I also think "the artificial sun" and "atlas" are important reads if you're interested in the history of the franchise because they get referenced a lot, but they are VERY racist and I don't think theyre good enough overall to make them worth putting on the list despite that.)
that was long. next up:
the 2003 anime
I am not quite done watching this one but I'm pretty close so I feel confident in saying: on the whole, it's great! it looks absolutely fantastic for a tv anime from that era, the character and world design is top-notch, and overall it does a really good job adapting the best and most important parts of the manga into a continuous story, although it softens the blow of the darker moments quite a bit (which might be a good thing for you, depending on your tastes). it's pretty beloved by western fans, and for good reason.
I do have my issues with it, for one this might not be a popular opinion but I think they majorly screwed up on adapting the "greatest robot on earth" arc (my favorite arc btw, yes I might be salty), for another they really sand the edges off of uran's character compared to the manga and make her a lot more meek and girly. but that's just my opinion and if this show is the only one you've watched you wouldnt know that anyway. so don't let that deter you if you're interested, you'll be missing out on a pretty fantastic kids show.
so, if you're looking to really dive chest-first into astro boy as a franchise and understand all there is to know: maybe don't start with this one. it changes a lot from the source material and kind of does its own thing. but if you're just looking for a good story thats fun to watch and total eye candy, go nuts!
pluto
pluto by naoki urasawa is an adaptation/reimagining of astro boy's most famous and beloved arc, "the greatest robot on earth". it's also what got me into the franchise and one of my favorite manga ever! pluto reinvents the story as a detective thriller set in the aftermath of what is effectively, and obviously, the iraq war. it's brutal and harrowing, and beautiful and cathartic and hopeful. to me it is the gold standard for "dark and gritty reboot of a children's story" because urasawa adores tezuka and respects the original version, which was always a dark tragedy anyway, just presented differently. you might have seen pluto got an anime adaptation last year as well. I've watched it, it's pretty good! it doesn't change all that much (I don't like the few things they DID change but whatever) but I just think urasawa's artwork, paneling, and pacing are completely unmatched so I'd recommend the manga first. I'm not gonna be that asshole who insists you gotta read the manga over the anime though, if anime is easier for you you're better off having experienced pluto that way than not at all.
(if you ARE interested in both astro boy and pluto and are considering which to get into first, it's important to know that reading the arc pluto is based on will spoil a loooooot of things about the story. so weigh the pros and cons of that before making a decision!)
so, that's basically what I have to say. I haven't watched the 60s or 80s anime adaptations so I can't give insight on those, and I'm by no means an expert on any of this. I only started reading the original manga like three months ago and before that my memories of the other stuff was pretty faded, before I revisited it. if you're interested though I hope this helps, and I hope you enjoy yourself if you decide to take the leap! it's kind of a rabbit hole. I did not know what I was getting into when I decided to reread pluto, but I'm sure glad I did.
if you have any other questions about my personal opinions, feel free to shoot me an ask as well!
134 notes · View notes
choerypetal · 10 months ago
Text
Love in the Impala / Sam Winchester
Tumblr media
summary: Sam and you had always felt a mutual attraction, but the chance to voice your feelings never seemed to arise. Then, one evening, Sam took the initiative, creating an opportunity that could mark the start of a new relationship.
ps: english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar errors
xox'
Being with the Winchesters definitely had its perks, but unfortunately, it came with its share of drawbacks too. One unexpected downside was Dean’s immediate interest in you from the moment he laid eyes on you. What Dean failed to grasp was that your attraction was solely directed towards Sam, and Sam only. Something that he too, quickly picked up on. Unlike you, Sam enjoyed every little bit of it.
Sam couldn’t help but notice your irritation whenever Dean would continuously compliment your appearance, his eyes lingering on your figure, especially during those late nights at the club. It wasn’t until one particular evening after a successful hunt, when the three of you, including Castiel, decided to unwind at the local pub near the hotel. The place was packed, signaling the end of the week, and you were undeniably exhausted. But even then, Dean’s persistent attention towards you remained unwavering.
"You know," he purred, flashing the same overconfident grin he'd given you the first time you met. "Still impressive how you've managed to keep up with us. I mean, with a beauty like yourself. Who could resist, right?" He chuckled, taking a sip of his umpteenth beer to 'unwind'. Meanwhile, you simply returned his gaze, offering a silent smile before diverting your attention elsewhere for amusement. And there it was, Sam’s eyes fixed on yours, impossible to ignore.
Sam was fully aware of his actions, deliberately ignoring whoever the unfortunate lady was vying for his attention. His nods were half-hearted, brows furrowed almost in disdain, as he pretended to listen to whatever was being said, eliciting a slight chuckle from you. "Funny, isn't it?" What you failed to realize was how you, too, were ignoring Dean's words entirely. And in response, Sam did the same, sharing in your amusement with a vulnerable chuckle of his own.
Later in the evening, Dean was completely intoxicated, the taste of alcohol lingering on his breath, while Castiel made valiant attempts to keep the conversation going. Amidst this, you noticed Sam mouthing a word – 'Bathroom' – prompting you to excuse yourself before fully comprehending his intent. Sam not only shared your sentiments but also awaited this opportune moment, perhaps to assert to his brother who you truly belonged to: him.
"If you'll excuse me, I have a little situation to attend to," you announced, your voice cutting through Castiel's ear, who simply hummed in acknowledgment as Dean reluctantly lifted his gaze, his lips forming an unmistakable pout. "Won't be long, I promise," you assured, though that turned out to be entirely inaccurate.
Sam waited for you, a drink in hand now emptied, his eyes fixated on your every movement as you approached him. You could feel his unwavering gaze upon you, devoid of shame or guilt, as he realized the power he held to admire you whenever he pleased, without his brother's interference for once. "Did I forget to mention how beautiful you are?" His gaze hardened slightly, brows furrowing from perhaps admiring a bit too intensely. But where was the line when it came to the two of you?
"Not too shabby yourself," you replied in kind, your teeth gently sinking into your bottom lip as you eyed him from head to toe, a familiar sensation stirring in your stomach, reminiscent of the first time you met Sam. It had been a rookie mistake, spilling your favorite coffee on him, but it led to one of those moments where you were fortunate enough to help him clean not just his shirt, but his chest as well – a memory he seemed to relish in reminding you of. "It's a shame we're not at a coffee shop. Who knows where your clumsiness might have taken us."
Your cheeks flushed at his comment, and the moment he noticed, his lips curved into a smirk as he leaned in closer. It was one of the things he loved about you – not only were you nearly the same height as his brother, but just a tad smaller, creating a perfect fit between the two of you. Trying not to sound too obvious, you chuckled softly, but he couldn't resist teasing you, his fingers gently caressing your chin to draw your focus back to him. "Hey hey, back to me, love," he murmured, his voice husky, rendering you almost defenseless against him, already feeling yourself succumbing to his charm.
"You make it impossible not to be distracted by your beauty," you pouted, your attempt at defense crumbling as your gaze involuntarily shifted from his chest to his lips. Sensing an opportunity, Sam's fingers trailed lightly around your waist, wrapping around you before he contemplated fully enveloping you in his embrace. His grip conveyed an unwavering resolve not to let go. "I have an idea," he confessed, sparking your curiosity about what plan he had brewing from the start – undoubtedly one that would leave Dean regretting ever flirting with you in the first place.
Sam's gaze drifted over to Dean and Cas, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he observed the scene before him. With the two of you not far away, he couldn't resist indulging in the sight. "How about," his voice husky once again, his desire palpable as he clenched his jaw, longing for you – a desire that had been brewing since day one. "We have a little fun in the Impala?"
Your nerves caused you to gulp nervously. Had you heard him correctly? "Th-The Impala, but what about—" Before you could finish your sentence, Sam swiftly cupped your face, his attention solely on you as he pressed the bottle neck into his chest. Without giving you a chance to respond, his lips brushed against yours, initiating a kiss that you found impossible to resist. You felt his breath quicken, followed by a playful nip at your bottom lip and a soft laugh as he quirked a brow in confusion. "What?" you chuckled, to which he responded in kind. "It's just... I don't know how long I could resist. If it weren't for being Soulless, not to mention Dean being so clingy around you—"
Without hesitation, you leaned in once more, rising onto your tiptoes to initiate another kiss. "Then," you broke away from the kiss, allowing Sam a moment to catch his breath, though his gaze pleaded for more. It was enough to tease him, your fingers playing with his collar as you spoke softly, "How about you be a gentleman and take me to the Impala?" He understood your implication immediately, wordlessly heading to settle the bar tab, smoothly concocting a story to excuse yourselves to Dean and Cas, citing the need for some fresh air. Fortunately, Sam's convincing manner provided the perfect cover, sparing you from having to hear the charm he employed on his brother.
As the two of you managed to sneak into the Impala, you couldn't help but chuckle as Sam settled you onto his lap. His fingers traced patterns around your waist, causing a slight shift in your hips as you felt the tension building through the fabric of your clothes. Your cheeks flushed with a rosy hue as you tried to stifle any noise. Public make-outs were never your preference, but with Sam, your adventurous side emerged, perhaps as a subtle message to Dean to cease his flirtations.
"God damn, you look even better on top of me," Sam's eyes darkened as he savored every visible inch of your skin, his fingers digging into your flesh as he relished in the sound of your escalating moans. "Sam..." Your voice echoed through his mind, driving him to the brink of madness. But before things could escalate further, a tap on the Impala from outside abruptly interrupted the moment.
"Dipshit!" Dean's voice, surprisingly less intoxicated, pierced through the silence. In contrast, Castiel remained uncomfortably silent, his presence a reminder of the world outside the cocoon of the car. Sam's chuckle prompted you to bury yourself deeper into the crook of his neck, his arm still protectively wrapped around you as he scrambled for an excuse. Yet, his cocky demeanor remained intact – if this was the tactic to finally make his brother understand, then it had to start somewhere.
"Dean, maybe we could... leave the two of them..." Cas attempted to diffuse the tension, but Dean's strong objection was evident as he stormed into the driver's seat, causing both you and Sam to shift closer together in response.
"Really?" Dean's gaze shifted between the two of you, and you couldn't help but anticipate a hint of sadness or even anger from him, considering it was evident that you and Sam had a mutual attraction. However, his response caught you off guard. "In MY Impala? You can bang anyone, Sam, but NEVER in my Impala," he declared, gesturing emphatically.
The two of you couldn't help but laugh in unison. "So, me hooking up with the girl you've been flirting with isn't a problem?" Sam sounded almost offended at this point.
"I mean," Dean paused, swallowing as his gaze met yours. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes that you felt deeply once they locked with yours. But instead of dwelling on it, he smiled. It was clear that seeing his brother happy was of utmost importance to him. "I know you've had a thing for my brother. I mean, who can resist those puppy eyes?" He ruffled Sam's hair, earning a playful pushback from Sam and a smile from you at the small display of affection.
"You're right," you agreed, redirecting your attention fully back to Sam. "How could anyone resist?"
With that, Dean started the Impala's engine, Castiel back in the passenger seat, while you nestled comfortably in Sam's arms, sitting in his lap. The drive was filled with laughter and shared moments, the four of you enjoying each other's company until you arrived back at the Bunker. As Sam spoke, teasingly, "Don’t think you can get away without me testing you, my love," you tried to hide your blush, only for Dean to interject with mock disgust, "Spare the details! For the love of god."
Chuckling together, now alone, you gently caressed Sam's cheek, admiring every detail of him. "I love you," you whispered softly, leaning in to peck his lips.
"I love you too," he replied earnestly, ensuring that you would never forget that night. And indeed, come morning, you would find it a little difficult to walk, as Sam made sure of it.
349 notes · View notes
rhemaji · 7 months ago
Text
Lil rant abt Caine
Caine is just a lil guy, despite it all. From a design standpoint I thought I was gonna absolutely fucking hate looking at him because those chattering teeth toys make my skin crawl- but the art direction really helps make him look more appealing and whimsical than a disembodied pair of talking dentures sounds on paper.
Tumblr media
The thing with Caine is I didn't initially like him that much after the pilot. While his interactions with Bubble were quite funny, that one episode left me feeling like he'd just end up being kinda one note or at the very least one note in a way that'd get on my nerves. Then everything changed when Pomni Wake Up Time to Go On an Adventure! attacked
The comedic timing throughout that announcement video was so fucking funny and thanks to his line deliveries and animation/model [?] upgrades- CAINE LOOKED AND SOUNDED SO ADORABLE!!
Tumblr media
Legit it wasn't until this came out that I realized I actually could be on board with Caine as a character and it's been uphill from there. Episode 2 was better than the pilot not only comedically and visually but also in terms of showcasing just how actually unsettling Caine can be as an antagonist. Not because he's vengeful or malicious, but because he's so oblivious to how people work. His mind's always buzzing with terrible ideas and he's so so eager about these adventures, but at the end of the day he really really doesn't get the circus crew. Try as he might to include them, keep them engaged [ZOOBLE WAIT!], or even give them what they want [Exit doors] he doesn't realize how traumatic and distressing their current situation can be. The very nature of being trapped in a digital world is bad enough but it's especially rough here bc not only does its god have limited capabilities, you also are very well acquainted with him, and he can't fully understand your pain nor can he truly save you from it. He won't mourn your abstraction. He will not attend your funeral. He will not understand the distress of your arrival, nor the weight of your departure.
This isn't just sad from the pov of the circus gang, it's also very sad for Caine- not because i think he'll ever feel sad about it himself necessarily, but instead because the situation is sad. New members appear over and over, you craft adventures and games and distractions like [i'm assuming] they'd asked you to, but over and over, one by one, they abstract. They stop laughing at your jokes. They don't like you. They want you to leave them alone. It's confusing and maybe even inconvenient.
Where I'm hoping the series takes Caine is that this dissonance between Caine's intentions and the distress of the circus gang gets worse and worse and worse until something's got to give. I'm hoping that maybe at some point a character will try to sit down and talk with him and for it to either sorta get through to him but completely backfire in some form because he misinterprets what the others want from him OR i'd also be down for him to listen, but not understand any of it and proceed as tho nothing happened. I don't want Caine to come around really, it'd be interesting to see how Goose would go about having him come around to being a better host that empathizes more with humans, but personally I do prefer him to keep on keepin' on being this oblivious and eager antagonist.
My favorite Caine lines/line deliveries so far:
"You, my friend, stumbled into an incredible world of wonders, where anything can happen!…e-except for swearing."
"And here we have THE GROUNDS! Drown yourself in the digital lake, or engage in ridery at the digital carnival!"
"What do you think of XDDCC? You're right, terrible, LET'S TRY THAT AGAIN!"
"Kaufmo abstracted? Why didn't anybody tell me?"
"Bubble you can't say that"
"-ZOOBLE WAIT!"
"Why are you all just standing there?! The- The Canyon- C-Candy Canyon Kingdom needs you now!" [according to his VA, this was an actual line flub but hoo boy am i glad they use it bc it's hilarious]
"I know you guys love your NPCs, but if I start losing track of who's a human and who's an NPC, who knows...what. could. happen..."
That last line there specifically surprised me the most because up until he said that I was under the impression Caine was linked to every single NPC. I even thought he could see through their eyes if he so chose thanks to his "hundreds of all seeing eyes" line in the pilot. Him saying this here implies lots of things. Has Caine forgotten before? Is someone in the circus secretly an NPC ooooooooh~
"Who knows what could happen..."
Honestly, when Caine first said this I did immediately theorize Jax as being an NPC but now that it's been *checks calendar* three months since I watched episode 2, I don't think this is the case anymore. Jax being an NPC would be...something. Jax not knowing he's an NPC would be interesting [i like it when ppl's realities get shattered], but honestly I think this line was a way to telegraph to the audience that no Caine isn't actually all knowing. He didn't know Gummigoo was coming through that portal until he saw him with his own two eyes. My theory is that Caine is only able to teleport, create, censor, transform, and destroy the world around him, but isn't able to see all of it at once unless he tries to. I think Caine's default state is one where he only knows what he sees directly in front of him/what he himself has left waiting for someone else. And rather than implying someone in the gang is an NPC, I think that line in episode 2 was mainly implying Caine can be tricked, that it's possible to hide something from him, to surprise him even. Though I'm not opposed to an NPC we haven't met trying to join under the guise of being human, it'd potentially create some fun tension assuming the audience was given enough reason to care about them.
Jax is actually my favorite character in tadc, but i couldn't fill an entire post with things to say abt him. Caine seems to be- at least as of right now- the easiest of all the characters to try and wrap my head around. I'll probably have a lot more to say about Jax as he exists in canon as the episodes come out [EPISODE 6 MY BELOVED]
but uhhhh yeah, that's all the things i had to say abt Caine. Pls go watch/listen to the fansong Digital Land bye!
Tumblr media
176 notes · View notes
leahrintarou · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
🎃 AKAASHI KEIJI - BREEDING
Tumblr media
Warnings: they're in love lol, breeding kink, akaashi wants a baby, usage of the pet name "sweetheart & pretty", unprotected sex, he finishes inside bc duh, soft akaashi, fingering, fem reader, afab reader.
Word Count: 3.2k
Tumblr media
"Something came up so you're going to spend the day with n/n and keiji, okay?" Bokuto said to the small girl, standing at the door of y/n and akaashi's shared home. She nodded as he gave her a quick peck to her forehead before standing up from his crouching position. She flashed her father a quick grin, running off into the cozy home, not sparing neither bokuto, akaashi, or y/n another glance. "call me if you need anything." bokuto said, voice in a hurry as he began to take quicksteps backwards, waving off his two best friends.
"of course!" y/n raised her voice a bit due to their furthering distance. the grey haired figure entered his car and as soon as he drove out of their driveway, y/n closed the door, locking it before pivoting on her heels to face her one and only akaashi keiji. "where'd she go?" y/n questioned, smile faltering as she looked over his shoulder and into the living room and the small child wasn’t in her field of vision.
Akaashi let out a chuckle when y/n's eyes filled with worry. She hurriedly ran into the living room to scope out the area more efficiently and there she was, hiding under the coffee table as she watched the tv in which displayed her favorite show. She let out a sigh, closing her eyes in content as she placed a palm over her fast pacing heart. A yelp soon followed after when akaashi's voice fanned over the shell of y/n's ear. "it's funny seeing that you already have motherly instincts, yet you aren't even one yourself."
"not yet at least.." His voice trailed when he walked away to take a seat on the nearby sofa. "yet?" y/n quirked an eyebrow, finding her own seat on the floor as bokuto's daughter emerged from her confined hiding spot. When y/n didn't hear an audible answer from her husband, she took a glance up at him and was met with a small smile from his features. it wasn’t his intention (most of the time at least) but, akaashi's smiles will always let him get his way.
It always has and y/n despised it. She fell for it each time and whether akaashi knew what wonders it worked for himself or not, he couldn’t help but keep the expression when after many denying and no's, y/n would give in. Right now was one of those incidents and to prevent her vulnerability, she looked away and decided to indulge in the little girl's activity of building with the container of legos that were stored underneath the coffee table.
It was a limited addition set that akaashi had gotten from his work a while back and the two had yet to build it, so y/n took this as her chance to switch her focus onto something else. Anything at all.
"keiji, you come help too!" The girl said with a cheerful tone. He gave her a small smiled, standing from the couch to take a seat in front of the two. "you need my help?" He exaggerated, placing a palm over his chest to present his true appreciation. "mhm! The more help I get, the easier It'll be to complete". She handed y/n a few lego pieces, a small frown her lips as she couldn't figure out the correct way to put them together. Akaashi admired how gentle y/n was with her.
Down to her actions and voice, she had the most careful motives as if the girl were a snowflake and y/n was a flame who's heat could melt her within a second. With her kindness however, the flame cooled and as y/n held the girls hands within her own to aid her in piecing two legos together. akaashi was snapped out of his daze from their shared laugh. "good job, sweetheart.". With a pout, she looked away embarrassed from the attention and affection.
A future came to akaashi's head, blinding his field of vision with its presence of y/n and their own child. He thought it was impossible to be even more happy with the thought of y/n in his future, but when the thought of another member of their family came to mind, it was all he could think of. y/n carrying their little creation and raising he or she with as much love as they could endure. It was a new dream of his and for some reason, he wanted it more than anything else.
"keiji! Stop spacing out, you need to get to work!" She groaned, handing him a few pieces form the set. Akaashi glanced at y/n who was already looking at him with a smile on her lips and he felt his heartrate skyrocket just a bit as well has the fluttering sensation in his gut.
"sorry, sorry. I'll get to work your highness" he laughed, giving a gentle flick against the girls forehead. "you better" with furrowed eyebrows, she got back to her own work while akaashi and y/n chuckled at the sight before them.
----------
"thank you guy's so much, I'm in your debt!" Bokuto smiled as he waved off the two, his daughter walking by his side and to his car. y/n closed the door around, letting out a sigh as she snaked her arms around akaashi's waist. "kids are really tiring, keiji." she yawned into his chest as she pulled him closer. "let's go rest up for the night then". He placed a chaste kiss to her forehead as they sluggishly made their way upstairs and into their bedroom.
y/n got into bed and after discarding his hoodie and sweatpants, akaashi soon followed in. "do you alwaysss have to sleep half nude?" y/n laughed, poking at his chest as she turned her body to face him. "It's comfier. You should try it sometime" he teased, reaching up to hold her fidgeting hand. "in your dreams" she scoffed, forcing back a yawn when she rubbed the fatigue from her eyes.
"hey, last time I checked, most of my dreams always come true" akaashi looked into y/n's eyes as she sat up to shift her positioning. He admired everything about her but was a bit caught off-guard when she straddled his waist, hovering her face over his own before pressing a kiss to his lips. "and what dreams are those?" Her voice was soft and akaashi remembered the memory of earlier that day. "like the one where I finally confessed to you on our graduation day," he started.
"oh and the one where I proposed to you and you said yes."
He noticed how y/n's breath hitched and he couldn’t help but smile. "funny how we both had the same dreams." she laughed, turning her head to lay against akaashi's bare chest. "mhm" his hand made its way under her t-shirt as he found comfort in caressing the soft skin of her back. "I also have one more dream that I hope we share the wished off too."
Y/n hummed against his chest, curiosity enveloping her frame when she heard the beats of his heart begin to quicken. "I want us to start a family" he finally said. y/n's breath hitched again and she raised her head to see if her husband was joking or not. When he saw the serious look on his face that was mixed with anticipation for her reply, suddenly everything felt so real.
"are you sure, keiji?" She questioned, voice still soft. Akaashi blinked a few times when he didn’t hear an immediate 'no'. Was y/n actually contemplating this idea of his? "of course I am. I feel like it’s the right time. I got a promotion at my job recently and your business has been going great. We finally have a home too. If push comes to shove, we can always convert that spare room into a nursery if-"
y/n leaned down to place a firm and long lasting kiss against his lips, abruptly stopping his rambling. He tend to do that when he was nervous or excited and right now, y/n could tell that he was both. "do you think I could be a good mother?" Akaashi was expecting anything but that from her, causing him to freeze up. None the less, he quickly recovered, forcing himself to speak.
"of course you can, sweetheart."
He thought the answer was obvious from the start so when y/n's eyes widened from his words, he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. "you don’t believe me, do you?" He asked, reaching a hand up to cup her cheek. There was a small pout on her lips and akaashi leaned up to place his lips against her own once again. Y/n leaned into the action of affection and so did akaashi. There was no possible way that they could physically be any closer, yet they still tried. Pressing their bodies against one another as their mouths spoke words without a voice.
Akaashi pulled away with a pant, chest heavying with his next words. "I'll prove it to you if you don't believe me. How does that sound?" He asked. When y/n smiled with a nod, akaashi was filled with every possible feeling of joy. He pulled her back into a kiss, this time their tongues making contact with the other, tasting the aftermath of their shared promise of their newly planned future. y/n let out a small moan as akaashi's hips lifted to meet with her heated core.
His rush of emotion wasn't containable at this point so when he felt himself growing hard underneath y/n's body, he knew that from this point on, he had a goal and he would achieve that goal on this very night. Reaching a hand into y/n's bottoms, she flinched at the feeling of the cold pads of his digits against her sensitive bud. A whimper reverberated in her throat before a moan followed after and fell onto akaashi's lips as he applied pressure to the area.
she drew in a sharp breath when each lap of circular motions brought an intensifying level of pleasure to course through her body. "k-keiji, fuck-" she choked out, pulling away from the kiss and burying her face in the crook of akaashi's neck instead. "relax, sweetheart. There's no rush tonight." he reassured, urging her to lift her head. She did so with a bit of commitment and when they caught each other's gaze, either of their hearts felt as if it skipped a few beats.
Akaashi held eye contact with y/n as he reached down further into her bottoms, fingers now gently placed at her entrance. Slowly inserting two of his digits y/n let out a moan, breath fanning against akaashi's cheek when her entire body shivered at once. "good job, sweetheart." He smiled gently. "just like that." y/n was practically welcoming him in as his fingers slipped past her entrance with such ease. Akaashi twitched within his briefs and he let out a shaky breath when y/n began to grind down against his palm, trying to get some kind of friction against her bud.
"want more of you, keiji."
Akaashi knew what she was getting at whether she said it or not since now, she leaned down for his lips once more. He didn’t even get a chance to catch his breath before she'd already latched her lips onto his own. It was as if the air in each other's lungs were their only source of oxygen in which they relied on to keep breathing. With a muffled groan, akaashi gently bit y/n's bottom lip, breaking away their kiss for a small second as he took in a breath of air.
"cum for me and you can get what you really want, okay?"
y/n eagerly nodded, pressing herself against akaashi's palm as she moaned from the friction against her bud. His digits were long and reached places that made y/n feel like she was on cloud nine. He sped up the motions of his hand as y/n whimpered next to his ear. Letting out small phrases of encouragement, akaashi finally began to feel the ache settling in his growing erection. "m close, keiji" she warned, sighing when he hummed. Y/n felt the vibration of his chest against her own as her coil finally snapped.
She clenched around his digits as his fingers slowed in motion and so did her hips. She panted relentlessly and akaashi decided to give her a bit of time to recollect herself. Using both of her arms to place her palms firmly against akasshi's chest. She lifted herself up as he slid his hand out from her bottoms. y/n made quick movements of her own to remove his restraining briefs and akaashi wasted no excessive time to grasp his own member, using y/n's arousal to coat the entirety of himself.
He let out a soft moan, eye's drooping as he looked up at y/ns' features in which was admiring his current actions as he pumped himself within a tight fist. "take these off. They're gonna get in the way." he used his freehand, hooking the waistband of her bottoms before it returned to its position with a 'snap'. y/n lifted herself from his lap, desire fueling her to move as efficiently as possible. "hey-" She frowned when akaashi continued to let out streams of moans from the pleasured contact engulfing his member.
He noticed this, reluctantly letting go of himself and placing his hands on either sides of her hips instead as she straddled him. "okay, okay. You make me feel good then." He smiled. "wanna feel you inside me" she mumbled, reaching for his member with a brittle touch. "all of you and everything".
"seems like you've been wanting me to put a baby in you for a while now, sweetheart."
"please, keiji."
"anything for you, pretty." Gently lifting her hips, akaashi aided y/n as the tip of his member prodded at her entrance before she slowly allowed herself to slide down the entirety of his length. The both of them let out a moan in unison as their pleasure finally skyrocketed. akaashi held a firm grip on her waist to hold y/n in place since he knew that if he or she were to move right now, he'd probably come undone in a matter of a milliseconds. he noticed how y/n's nails left crescent shaped indentions along the area of his chest and when her body mindlessly clenched down around his member, she let out a whine.
he drew in a hissed breath before urging y/n that she could move. letting out a sigh, she slowly lift her hips before allowing them to drop once again. akashi tried to hold back a drawn out moan, a whimper coming out instead. it was insane to him how even after years of being together with y/n, he had yet to become 'used' to her body. the way she would take every part of him whether it was he who wanted it or she herself. he figured that y/n knew this too since every time she'd ask for anything, he's always jump to his feet (or knees) in seconds just to pleasure her however she wished.
her moans continued to grow and it sounded like music to his ears. he forced himself to hold back his own noises of pleasure, careful to not drown out the ones of y/n's. he wanted to hear her. despite her riding him, just her sounds alone took a big part of him feeling pleasure. "you're always so good for me" he said through a whisper as y/n leaned down to place affectionate and sloppy kisses against his neck. hues of purples rose to the surface of his ivory skin as y/n continued with her lustful actions.
in her current position, she felt all the more needier to use Keiji's body for any sort of pleasure that she could get, causing her to slightly grind herself down against his lower abdomen, eager to get some kind of attention to her bud. akaashi couldn't hold back a moan when his member reached a deeper depth withing her core. he could crumble to pieces right there and then if he didn't focus. "feel good, pretty?" he questioned through a pant. she moaned a small "mhm" against his neck and he tapped at the small of her back so she'd lift her head to face him.
in all honesty, akaashi just wanted to see her face and admire every unique detail of her features, but when he was met with a small whine from her feeble becoming state, his eyebrows contorted in worry. "what's wrong?" he asked as her hips slowed against him. she let out a whine at the lost pleasure and akaashi put two and two together. "shh. it's okay, sweetheart. i got you," he smiled, making swift movements to turn y/n onto her back as he now hovered over her. "I'll take care of the rest and you just lay here and relax, okay?"
she nodded, lower body jerking up to meet with akaashi's fast pacing hips. he used his free hand to wrap underneath her lower back, pulling her up a bit closer to himself while his other hand began to toy with her now sensitive bud. she was needy and lust coursed through her veins as if it were blood itself. she was almost embarrassed by the sound of her arousal coating akaashi's member as he moved in and out of her core. his hand quickened against her bud as her eye's pricked with tears from pleasure.
maybe it was their exhaustion, maybe it was their current position, or maybe it was their motive, but y/n and akaashi felt as if this moment was the peak of their beings. y/n let out a strained moan and akaashi knew her well enough to notice that she was finally approaching her end. clenching down on akaashi to feel every detail of him, she called his name with a broken voice and he understood the breathless warning.
she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer against her body as her near was finally approaching. akaashi placed a kiss to her parted lips as she finally allowed herself to come undone. the way she clenched down on akaashi in fragments of seconds caused him to also approach his high. he called her name with a groan as it also drifted to a quiet whisper. he finally let go and released into the warmth of y/n's sex and she moaned from the sensation. akaashi felt a feeling of accomplishment as he hovered above y/n, not daring to move when he knew that he wanted to keep every drop of his arousal within her.
he eased himself to lay on his side before pulling y/n closer to his chest. she let out a small whimper after feeling him twitch inside of her already sensitive sex. "wanna stay like this for a little." he said quietly, placing a kiss to her temple and then another to her forehead. y/n looked up at him before a smile etched onto her lips.
"do you think we're doing the right thing?"
"anything that involves you will always be right, sweetheart."
Tumblr media
i got carried away while writing, BUT I LOVE THIS MAN LMAO
i hope you enjoyed reading this, though. Notes and reblogs are greatly appreciated! <3
475 notes · View notes
impactrueno · 29 days ago
Note
Do you have any advice for small artists who want to grow an audience on social media? If so, what's a good platform for it?
man, i really don't know how helpful i can be about this. i very rarely post with that much intent, i just do whatever i want and i'm stupid lucky that people happen to enjoy that. so there's that, and also the fact that i grew my audience organically years ago, before we entered the dark age of social media. so whatever i did then, might not work now. (plus i literally don't even know what i did)
if you're an artist, social media platforms all suck right now. period. so really, just spread out. be on all of them if you can until one of the algorithms picks you up because unfortunately this stuff is luck based at this point. ok well not entirely luck based, obviously each platform has its own tricks to working the algorithm to your favor, but THAT, i have no clue about, i'm sorry. i don't understand the algorithms so i just never bother, feels like it only gets worse with time.
what i do know is that finding your niche will help you a lot with growing an audience. i'm gonna review my own experience as an example and share some stuff i picked up on along the way.
fanart helps a lot, especially at the beginning. but make fanart of stuff you're actually passionate about, not stuff just for clout. from my experience, i noticed that people can always tell when something was done with love, and judging by the comments i get, that's a pretty big thing that draws people to my art. there's always someone telling me "i don't even know anything about (insert franchise i'm fixated on) but your art and enthusiasm is making me want to check it out" so it's not really like your audience has to be compromised of nothing but fans of the thing you're drawing! it probably will be at the beginning though, just keep at it.
once you have a small audience and you feel like branching out, you might want to consider what the bulk of your audience is into because this is how you're gonna find your niche. in my case for example: a lot of my following came from my simpsons fanart randomly blowing up on social media. people who enjoy the simpsons usually also enjoy other 90s cartoons, so when my focus shifted to hey arnold, people loved it and it drew in even more fans of 90s cartoons. so the large majority of my audience comes from those two fandoms. every now and then though, i make fanart of other stuff i really love but i don't have the audience for it, whatsoever. like whenever i draw persona/megaten or zelda or pokemon, despite these franchises being incredibly popular, it's always flop city for me. because there's not enough overlap between those and my 90s cartoon oriented following. it's just not what people expect from me, and it's not that they hate it, but that fanart is gonna have a really hard time reaching its target audience unless you get lucky. but you know what did blow up recently? my beetlejuice fanart! and the pattern is there once more: 90s cartoons and millennials reminiscing about the show or the movie. this is my niche. it's pretty much the same for every fanartist you'll see on social media.
so again, finding your niche is key if you want to grow an audience.
also participate in the community! i never actually do this, i'm a hermit lol, but i've seen it works great for others. do art challenges, memes or trends (if it's fun to you, because again, being genuine is important.) socialize with other artists, join discord servers, make friends. engage with your own audience. be fun to interact with! make funny stuff! but also don't force it, trust me, forcing humor just repels people. this isn't even artist advice anymore, it's a charisma lesson. and i hate that this is necessary but you'll probably notice that artists with large followings usually also have "personality." and when i say "personality" i mean this is literally what google defines me as. NOT ARTIST??? HELLO??? 😭
Tumblr media
this kinda sucks (if you're an introvert like me) but it's the reality for a lot of artists on social media these days. you have to also be an influencer, and honestly, who the fuck even knows how to do that? the most random shit gets popular and you have very little control over the algorithm. even more so these days.
this is why i'm not sure if i can be of any help. being an artist on social media right now is hell. i genuinely have no clue how a small artist would even make it through all the slop we're being inundated with every day. it just didn't used to be like this. :(
but i hope me sharing my experience can offer a little insight into how to cultivate an audience!?1????! despite feeling like i'm clueless about this stuff. i feel like i should know more about this. but that's all i got lol
41 notes · View notes
dangerliesbeforeyou · 6 months ago
Text
ok so ive been rewatching psychoville and saw on the wikipedia that there were a bunch of websites made for the series (they were all written by reece and steve btw) which i've been looking through cos they are genuinely SO fucking funny & also just amazingly creative lol!
anyway i know people in the fandom probs already know about this (since the show came out literally 15 years ago pfft) but i thought i'd share some of my fav bits (but honestly would just recommend just checking them out if you haven't i have been crying with laughter for literally hours lol)
i will say that a lot of the media (videos, games, etc) no longer work on the archived sites rip but i'm sure people have uploaded some of the stuff (vids especially) to yt or other places lol
Tumblr media
so a) i love that we get some background stuff on jelly and 2) 'captain CRACKERS' bernie clifton's dressing room reference question mark ??????? (ofc bcdr was AFTER this but i know love the idea that mr jelly trained under len pfft)
Tumblr media
what that red raw stump do though 👀 (sorry pfffft)
mr jolly's website wasn't that interesting soz tho i did like him comparing being a doctor to being a clown lol
Tumblr media
the comment about fag bears did make me wheeze i'm afraid lol i also loved the blurry photos of lomax's commodities lol (kinda reminded me of the bit in tlog w/ that terrible old photographer guy lol)
Tumblr media
when i tell you i DIED with laughter at the 'now known as hull' bit like u just know reece wrote that bit pfft
Tumblr media
not really a funny thing but this poem written by david honestly kinda breaks my heart lol... i think it also a lot of additional context to david's guilt when he thought he'd killed his father(faver) because perhaps he felt guilty about NOT feeling guilty you get me? like, it felt to me that when maureen told david it was SHE who killed her husband, it didn't feel like he was mad at her for doing it, but more that she kept the fact from him. it's about... the mutual oedipus-coded obsession with one another that couldn't even be destroyed in death and in this essay i will....
Tumblr media
ghoul_lass23 is just like me but about tumblr lol fr
Tumblr media
nothing feels more cursed than the phrases 'the river minge has burst its banks', 'crying creamy tears' and 'fleshy rapunzel' (which i've just noticed they misspelt lol... don't think that was intentional lol?) so if i had to read this so do you <3
Tumblr media
the way that i kinda wish this actually existed tho pfft... also, it does kinda remind me of that video where jenny nicholson talked about that insane reality show 'opposite worlds' lol
Tumblr media
'cross between seven and glee' is honestly sending me pfft
also on this part there was a script from stinkfinger (which is a show mentioned on the show) which sounded suspiciously like a reference to tlc lol
Tumblr media
the less said about swastknickers the better
(will say i did nearly piss myself laughing at the nazi section of the hoity toity website lol which wasn't a sentence i thought i'd type today lol)
Tumblr media
i just love these kinds of jokes pfft
also the whole biography sections of each of the pantomime cast are fab lol tho i AM kinda pissed they made debbie from yeovil and yet didn't give her a west country accent lol!!! (i guess they thought it'd be a bit much w/ joy being bristolian but i'm still mad about it lol)
also i know people have probably already pointed this out but i do find it funny that brian in the in9 episode last night of the proms is a closeted gay guy who likes watching drag was probably a reference to brian in this show that was a drag queen like... is anything these guys do NOT a reference??? u know those gaylor fans who obsessively look for clues in her songs about her apparent secret sexuality? all i'm saying is that i think they'd really like the extended reece shearsmith & steve pemberton universe pfft
Tumblr media
all three of these made me cry with laughter lol
Tumblr media
ohh this is interesting lol so obviously they suspected that some people might be all 'um why didn't the sprinklers go off during the fire at ravenhill? plot hole much!' so they wrote this into one of the websites so they could be like SEE! WE'RE ONE STEP AHEAD OF YOU DUMBASSES lol
Tumblr media
both the jeremy kyle reference (remember when that was a thing? yikes... my mum used to watch his show CONSTANTLY...) and nurse kenshington's thoughts on david and maureen are interesting lol.. also there's a reference to the serial killer top trumps in this bit lol! (do people still play top trumps?? man i LOVED top trumps lol...)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
the entire sunnyvale care home section is so fucking funny (both the website AND in the show lol mrs wren/mrs ladybird face is unironically probably my favourite character on the entire show) these were just some of my fav gags lol...
Tumblr media
ok but why is this the SECOND reference to a guy punching a child who was apparently looking at his dick lol!??!! did this happen to one of you ??!!?!? reece did you punch a child ??!???!?!??
&&&& that's it lol
there were a few websites i didn't spend long on or generally weren't that interesting (coughmidgetgemscough) but honestly? i was really captivated with just how funny and well put together all these sites were! you can tell they had a lot of fun making it and i'm sure fans at the time LOVED being able to have this semi-interactive element of the show lol
there was just something so wonderfully late 00's about these websites lol i genuinely don't think i've laughed this much at anything in literal months and all of this is just solidifies that psychoville is a criminally under-appreciated masterpiece lol
64 notes · View notes
lilac-hecox · 25 days ago
Note
i remember some of those losers on twitter were implying/joking with their other loser friends that damien was trying to push the ship for his popularity sake (their ego and and how important they think their warped perspectives are to the creators they are fan of as an incular little community is laughable btw) because he dared to mention angela a couple times. (im not even gonna get into how infantalizing it is to be this protective over 30 something year old capable adult woman. but i guess you can only be infantalizing to men!! women dont count as adult humans capable of controling their own narrative i guess lol) or they would imply he was being weird and obsessed because god forbid he had something to say about his coworker he clearly values and likes a lot because she is talented and lovely (this is something only the parasocial angela stans on twitter can notice and appreciate not the people who know her real life!!! nope!!!) just like he does with his other coworkers/friends btw. he also mentions them when its in the right context. shocking concept! (i remember him mentioning how chanse gives good level-headed fashion advice and how gentle he is with it how erin/spencer are so funny etc etc on his streams but nobody is clipping that because it doesnt fit an anti-shipper or shipper narrative!) these are types of fanfics/headcannons a hardcore shipper would come up with btw, i always notice how hardcore shippers acts the same delusional ways with antishippers but with narratives shifted a little, jokingly or not. they are made from the cloth lmao. there are some stans that loove taking largely innocuous stuff like this to fit their narrative about what damiens true intentions are over every little normal human things he does because they are obsessed with their idea of him as this uniquely bad dude that i think actually reflects who THEY are on the inside :) just my humble little opinion/rant. i really dont think they are that important or have much power btw. just annoying and loud in their own community which goes away easily if you mute it/ignore it. which i did for a longtime but this weird shit they are doing sparked some hidden ire i guess lol, all fan spaces have weirdos like this. i have been in a kpop fandom before and its so funny how these people are doing the same stupid ship wars over a youtube/improve troop. im sure they also partake in similar fandoms before just like this. talking about biases being obsessed with lineups etc all are kpop standom language. its that type of behavior a fanship/parasocial relashiship driven mega industry cultivated spilling over every little micro fandom now. /this is just my weird theory that explains some of the off putting behaviors i've seen, in my experience at least.
It is wild to me just how much Damien is hated over there on smoshtwt, and people are attacked for stanning him. The same for the crazy amount of hate damangela gets as a ship.
I think it's unfortunate that damangela stuff cropped up after shourtney came out as married so people began suspecting that people shipped damien and Angela in the same way?
Also, admittedly, there is a lot of infantilizing of both Damien and Angela by their respective fans.
I think it really just needs to be an issue of blocking/muting antis like you said!
34 notes · View notes
moonselune · 7 months ago
Note
Drow tav sharing funny/traumatizing tales of the Underdark (specifically Menzoberranzen) with Wyll, Halsin, Gale and maybe Karlach or Lae'zel?
ahahha yes i love this
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Karlach:
The crackling fire cast a warm glow over the campsite, flickering across Karlach's face as she listened intently to your tales from Menzoberranzan. Her expression ranged from incredulous to amused, sometimes tinged with concern at the more harrowing moments you described.
“So, there was this one time,” you began again, leaning closer to Karlach, eager to share more of your past adventures. “We were in this ridiculous trial, navigating through a maze filled with traps. The prize? A rare gemstone coveted by our Matron Mother, of course.”
Karlach chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Of course. And let me guess, the maze was also filled with spiders and other delightful creatures?”
“You know it,” you confirmed with a grin. “And then there was this trap with a pit of flesh-eating fungi. My sister fell right in, screaming bloody murder about her face getting devoured. I had to haul her out while trying not to laugh—it was a sight.”
Karlach's laughter was genuine but tinged with nervousness. “Sounds… eventful.”
“Oh, it was,” you agreed, remembering the chaos and danger with a mix of fondness and relief that those days were behind you. “But wait, there’s more. Like the time we had to infiltrate a rival house’s stronghold to retrieve a stolen artifact. We disguised ourselves as servants and spent the night scrubbing floors.”
Karlach raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “And?”
“And,” you continued, a mischievous glint in your eye, “the head guard slipped on the floor I had just cleaned and broke his neck. We ended up walking out with the artifact while chaos erupted behind us.”
Karlach shook her head in disbelief. You chuckled, reaching out to take her hand in yours, grateful for her listening ear and understanding. “Yeah, it was intense. But I wouldn’t change where I am now for anything.”
Her smile softened, filled with warmth and affection. “And where you are now is here, with me. No more flesh-eating fungi or rival house schemes.”
You squeezed her hand, feeling a rush of gratitude for her presence. “Thank the gods for that.”
Karlach leaned closer, her voice softening. “Thank you for sharing these stories with me. It helps me understand a bit more about where you came from.”
“You’re welcome,” you replied, feeling a sense of relief in being able to share this part of your past with her. “And I promise, I’ll keep the flesh-eating fungi stories to a minimum from now on.”
She chuckled, leaning her head against your shoulder. “Please do. I’d much rather hear about our adventures together.”
You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment settling over you as you sat together by the fire, the night alive with the crackle of flames and the comfort of Karlach’s presence beside you.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Lae'zel:
The campfire crackled, its warm glow casting flickering shadows that danced across the trees surrounding your makeshift campsite. Sitting across from Lae'zel, you couldn't help but grin as you exchanged tales from your respective pasts. Her sharp eyes gleamed with interest, a testament to her warrior spirit as she listened intently to your stories of Menzoberranzan.
"And then, during the annual Spider Festival," you began animatedly, recalling the chaotic scene vividly. "They let loose hundreds of giant spiders into the streets. People were running in every direction, trying not to get bitten. Because of course, Spiders are sacred to Lolth so you can't even defend yourself."
Lae'zel nodded thoughtfully. "Hmph. In my creche, we had a similar event during the trials. We had to fend off an entire nest of yochlol. They attacked in swarms, relentless and deadly. Only the strongest survived."
You chuckled, leaning back against a fallen log. "Sounds intense. But did you ever have to navigate a labyrinth filled with rothe dung? It was a punishment for failing a spellcasting test. You had to find your way out blindfolded."
Lae'zel's expression shifted, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of her mouth. "No, I can't say I've had the pleasure of that particular trial," she replied dryly. "However, during the Trial of Blades, we were pitted against illithid-controlled thralls. Their minds were completely dominated, fighting with a ferocity that rivaled even the most skilled warriors."
You raised an eyebrow, impressed despite yourself. "Impressive indeed. But here's one for you," you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. "A rival House once set fire to our mushroom farm. The fumes from the burning fungi caused hallucinations for weeks. We thought we were turning into driders—spider bodies and all."
Lae'zel's eyes widened slightly, a grudging respect evident in her expression. After a moment, she nodded. "Fine. You win this round," she conceded with a smirk, "but only because the Underdark is a crucible of madness."
You both laughed, the sound mingling with the crackling of the fire. As the laughter faded, a comfortable silence settled between you. The warmth of the fire and the camaraderie shared in these moments felt reassuring, grounding you both in the present after reminiscing about your tumultuous pasts.
"Those experiences," you mused softly, breaking the silence, "they shaped us, didn't they?"
Lae'zel's sharp gaze softened ever so slightly, and she reached across the space between you to touch your hand. "Yes," she agreed quietly. "They made us who we are today—stronger, wiser."
You met her gaze, feeling a rush of gratitude for her understanding and the connection you shared. The bond forged through shared hardships and stories was profound, anchoring you both in a world that often seemed chaotic and unpredictable.
"We've come a long way," you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of awe.
Lae'zel nodded, her hand tightening around yours. "And we'll face whatever lies ahead, together."
With that affirmation, you leaned closer, your forehead gently pressing against hers in a gesture of silent understanding and mutual respect. The warmth of her touch and the assurance of her presence calmed your restless heart, grounding you in the here and now—a shared moment of peace amid the trials of your journey together.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Wyll:
The campfire crackled softly, its warm glow pushing back the darkness that surrounded you and Wyll. The night air was cool and crisp, a welcome contrast to the tales you shared from your past in Menzoberranzan, a place where danger and intrigue were commonplace.
"So, there was this one time during the Matron Mother's banquet," you began, a playful grin on your face. "Someone spiked the wine with a poison killed half of the guests and the survivors pink. I was pink for a week. The nobles were furious, but no one could figure out who did it."
Wyll chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "That sounds… quite entertaining, actually. But also terrifying. It's hard to imagine living in a place where things like that happen at a banquet."
You shrugged nonchalantly, though a hint of amusement danced in your eyes. "In Menzoberranzan, it's just another day. Like the time my sister tried to summon a demon to impress our Matron, but ended up summoning a quasit instead. Chaos ensued for hours."
The seriousness in Wyll's expression deepened. "You know, that's not normal, right? Most people don't have to deal with demons or poisonings or traps triggered by accident."
You waved a hand dismissively, still smiling. "I know, I know. But humor was our way of coping. Like the time my brother accidentally set off a trap that dumped a bucket of faerie fire on his head. He glowed like a torch for a week."
Wyll reached out, his hand enveloping yours in a reassuring grip. "I worry about you, you know? You've been through so much, and yet you laugh it off like it's nothing."
You squeezed his hand gently, your smile softening. "It's how I survived, Wyll. If I didn't find humor in those moments, I don't know how I would've made it. But don't worry, I'm okay."
He sighed, pulling you closer until you were nestled against his side. "I guess I can't argue with that," he admitted quietly. "Just know that I'm always here for you. And I love you, no matter what crazy stories you have from your past."
You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder, soaking in his warmth and the comfort of his presence. "I love you too, Wyll," you murmured softly. "Thank you for always being here for me."
As the night stretched on, the campfire continued to crackle, casting its gentle light upon the two of you, creating a serene moment of peace amid the memories of chaos and danger. Together, you found solace in each other's company, grateful for the bond that had grown between you, transcending the trials of your past.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Gale:
The fire crackled softly in the hearth as you reclined on the plush sofa, Gale beside you, his eyes alight with curiosity. You had just finished a particularly darkly humorous tale of your time in Menzoberranzen, the infamous city of the drow.
“…And then, after all that scheming, my sister managed to pin the blame on our house rival. She got a promotion, and he… well, let’s just say he had a very close encounter with a pit of spiders.” You chuckled, the memory both grim and oddly amusing.
Gale’s eyes widened, a mixture of fascination and horror on his face. “Your sister did that? And she was rewarded for it?”
You nodded, leaning back into the cushions. “That’s Menzoberranzen for you. It’s all about power plays and survival of the fittest. If you’re not scheming, you’re already dead.”
Gale shook his head, clearly trying to wrap his mind around the brutal culture of the drow. “It’s awful, but I can’t help but find it fascinating. The constant political maneuvering, the intricate webs of deceit… It’s like something out of a twisted novel.”
You laughed softly, the sound a mix of genuine amusement and lingering bitterness. “It’s a nightmare, but it’s also home. Or at least, it was.”
Gale reached out, taking your hand in his. “I’m glad you’re not there anymore,” he said softly. “And I’m grateful you’ve chosen to share these stories with me, even if they’re horrifying. It helps me understand you better.”
You smiled, squeezing his hand. “Thank you for listening, Gale. It means a lot to me.”
Gale’s eyes sparkled with affection and curiosity. “Tell me more. How did you manage to survive all those years?”
You settled in, the warmth of the fire and Gale’s genuine interest making it easier to delve into the darker parts of your past. “Well, there was this one time…”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Halsin:
The camp was quiet, the only sound the gentle rustling of leaves in the evening breeze. You and Halsin sat by the fire, the warmth of the flames a comforting contrast to the chill of the night. You had just finished recounting one of your more harrowing tales from Menzoberranzen, the memory laced with a grim sort of humor.
“…And then, just as the Matron Mother was about to deliver the final blow, the ground beneath her feet collapsed. Turns out, my brother had been tunneling for weeks just to pull off that one prank. He’s still in the stocks for it, but I have to admit, it was impressive.”
Halsin chuckled, though his eyes were filled with understanding and sympathy. “The Underdark is a place of unimaginable horrors, yet you manage to find humor in it. That speaks volumes about your strength and resilience.”
You shrugged, trying to downplay the compliment. “You have to laugh, or you’ll go mad.”
Halsin’s gaze softened, his large hand covering yours. “I understand. I’ve seen the darkness in the Underdark, felt its oppressive weight. I’m glad you’ve found a way to cope with it, even if it’s through less than apporpriate means.”
You smiled, the warmth of his touch grounding you. “It helps. But it also helps to have someone like you to talk to, someone who understands.”
Halsin pulled you closer, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. “We have each other now. We survived it, and we’re stronger for it. You’re not alone anymore.”
You leaned into his embrace, the comfort of his presence easing the lingering shadows of your past. “Thank you, Halsin. For everything.”
He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his voice a soothing rumble. “Always, my heart. You’re not defined by where you came from. You’re defined by who you choose to be.”
You closed your eyes, the warmth of his embrace and the safety of the moment a balm to your soul. “I choose to be here, with you.”
Halsin smiled, holding you close. “And I’m grateful for that choice every day.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Hope you enjoyed this! - Seluney xox
136 notes · View notes
daydreamgoddess14 · 7 days ago
Note
Hi! 🫶 Please may I humbly make a Valentine Lovebomb request? 🩷
I would love to see number 5. A pair of exes who still have feelings for each other running into each other with River please? And perhaps in the spirit of Valentines, there could be a dusting (or more 👀) of smut?
Thank you 💖
Tumblr media
Then she runs like it's a race
Peachy, I don't know what came over me with this one... We've got cheating (only a pinch 🤏 and its people we don't know/care about), angst, public horniness, and of course a dusting or more of smut!
Hope you like it, love! Happy Valentines to you! 💕
(I also listened to this quite a lot... horses, bolting etc, etc, you get the picture 🙃)
Tumblr media
Realistically speaking, fresh out the box relationships should probably avoid the whole Valentine's period.
By fresh out the box, you're thinking only 5-6 dates in.
No formal discussions have taken place.
No one has mentioned meeting siblings / parents / pets.
You've slept together, but not slept together - he went to his own home afterwards, and that was perfectly acceptable.
Those early, brand new, baby step relationships should not hold any Valentine's expectations.
So the very fact that you're here, in a - quite lovely, actually - restaurant, with a great menu, delicious wine…
It kind of gives you the ‘ick’.
You're not one for being coddled, or rushed.
In fact, nine times out of ten, you're the one looking for the exit.
An unapologetic bolter.
With a barely contained sigh, you glance around the room at the other couples - and there are many.
There's an older couple opposite you holding hands across the table.
Two women seated in the window who got engaged within five minutes of sitting down because the one who popped the question was so nervous she couldn't wait any longer.
A young couple who've brought their baby on their date with them.
With a soft smile, you look around at all the variations of love surrounding you.
It's all very nice, but it's not really you.
And then your eyes fall on him.
The second you lay eyes on him you get butterflies, you always did.
Blue eyes, crinkled at the corners as he reads the menu intently.
His hair falls into his face so he sits back and pushes it away, looking across the room as he does so.
He catches you looking at him.
His brows pinch together tightly.
The woman with him must have questioned it, because it's gone again in an instant and he looks away.
Your ex.
Gorgeous, funny, wonderfully kind when his head's in the right place.
But at the time, it really wasn't.
You'd lost count of the number of times he'd turned up with blood on his hands, bruises on his torso, the occasional limp from a mildly sprained ankle.
He'd always been secretive about his job, but it got worse.
And of course, with you always on the lookout for an escape, it gave you the perfect ‘out’.
That being said...
He was different.
He seemed to like the fact that you were independent. That you weren't interested in his every waking step, that you valued his privacy.
But when he needed you - actually needed you - you'd failed.
Ran for the hills.
He's taken over your thoughts, now. You've lost count of the number of times he's caught you looking at him - and how many times you've caught him.
Your date is giving you serious goo goo eyes over the table, trying to hold your hand.
It's nauseating.
“I'll be back in a minute,” you placate him, rising from your seat and crossing the room to the bathroom.
His hand reaches out, grasping at your arm in an attempt to stop you.
“Where are you going?” he asks, his voice betraying a hint of a whine.
“Just the bathroom, I'll be right back,” you insist.
You know instantly this won't last.
What he wants from you, expects from you, is just not the kind of girlfriend you are.
As you stand in the bathroom, taking a moment for yourself, more memories of your ex resurface.
River Cartwright.
You had spent the last three months trying to think of anything but him.
Easier said than done.
Every time you tried to push thoughts of him out of your mind, they would only resurface with more intensity.
It was like the more you tried to forget, the more vividly you remembered every detail of him.
His messy hair always rumpled no matter how hard he tried to tame it.
Sparkling blue eyes, filled with determination.
Sentences dripping in sarcasm.
But, god, the sex was incredible.
You had made it clear from the start that you weren't looking for anything serious, that commitment wasn't in your vocabulary. Yet, River had assured you that it wouldn't be a problem. He was just as unwilling - or unable - to settle down as you were.
As you had shared more moments together, your emotions had caught you off guard. The feeling of attachment had become too intense, and you had feared that the longer you stuck around, the more likely it was that you'd end up hurting each other.
So you had left.
You had tried to convince yourself that it was for the best, but the guilt that washed over you every time you thought of him told you otherwise.
River had been the only person who had truly burrowed under your layers of detachment and nonchalance.
He had made you question the life you had built for yourself, the walls you had erected to keep others at arm's length.
Every time you looked at him, you found yourself falling into those blue eyes, the ones that seemed to see straight through you.
He read you like a book. Like a game he had all the cheat codes to.
Whenever he touched you, it was as if his touch alone could coax sounds of pleasure from deep within you, sounds that no one else had ever been able to hear before.
No one had ever been able to reduce you to a trembling, panting mess like he could. The sounds he pulled from you were foreign, even to your own ears.
Your body yearned for him, ached to be touched by him again. You found yourself desperate for that connection, those moments of mindless bliss that only he seemed to be able to give you.
You craved him like a drug.
He had awakened something within you, a desire so intense and all-consuming that it made you question your own sanity.
The memory of his hands on your skin, his mouth on your flesh, was etched into your being.
And now you were left feeling hollow and unfulfilled.
You take your time in the bathroom. Maybe if you take long enough, your date will take the hint and leave.
Unlikely.
You wonder about River's date. Who is she? Is she nice to him?
The thoughts swirl in your head, and curiosity tinged with a hint of jealousy gnaws at the back of your mind.
The idea of River with someone else, touching them in the same way he touched you, cuts through you like a knife.
You know your time is up.
The ladies room is at the start of a dark corridor that leads to a fire escape. You half wonder if it's worth making a run for it.
“You wouldn't leave him out there all alone, would you?” a voice outside the gents asks.
Your heart stutters in your chest at the sound.
It's familiar, unmistakable.
You recognise it instantly.
For a brief moment, you entertain the thought of disappearing out the fire exit, and not looking back.
“No River, I wouldn't.” You confirm with a sigh.
You steel yourself before turning to face him.
The memories and emotions associated with him hit you with the force of a tidal wave. It's almost overwhelming.
“How are you?” You ask.
“Don't do that,” he sneered. “Don't act like you give a shit.”
River's response is immediate and sharp, his words cutting through the air like a knife.
His reaction is understandable. Your last encounter had ended with so many harsh words.
You had walked away, leaving him behind with no explanation.
The scent of his aftershave swirls around you, triggering a primal response within you.
Your body betrays you as you inhale deeply, your resistance crumbling at the familiar cologne.
Your gaze meets River's, and you see the subtle signs of emotion playing across his face. His eyes soften for a moment before hardening once more.
He looks you up and down, taking in your appearance, before he finally speaks again.
“You look good.”
His voice is rough, hoarse with unexpressed emotion, betraying the cool facade he's attempting to maintain.
“How've you been?” you ask your original question once again.
You don't want to hear him tell you how good things are. You want him to confirm that he's as miserable as you are.
River takes a moment to respond. His expression hardening even further.
“How do you think I've been?” He counters, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
“Yeah… me too.” You confirm with a sigh.
“I’m not the one who left?” He points out.
Guilt washes over you.
It’s true, you can’t argue his point.
You deserve his anger, even if it pains you to hear it.
But you’re also not entirely at fault.
“What else could I do? You shut down completely,” you hold your hands up, taking the blame despite his contribution.
The look on his face shifts, becoming almost pleading.
“You could’ve stayed,” he says pointedly.
He knows, and you do too, that it’s never that simple.
“You knew that wasn’t me. You knew what I was like.”
His stare intensifies, and you can see his pain and anger mixed with something else entirely.
“Any regrets?” He asks bitterly.
“Some,” you admit quietly, your eyes locked with his.
The admission leaves a weight on your chest.
His expression changes, a hint of vulnerability seeping through the hard shell he’s been carrying around.
“Me too,” he concurs.
Your hand moves instinctively towards his face.
The air crackles with tension and anticipation, the boundaries between you becoming blurred.
He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t push your hand aside.
He leans into it, turning his head to press a gentle kiss to your palm.
Filled with unspoken longing, the simple gesture sends jolts of electricity through your body, reigniting the dormant embers of desire that still lingered beneath the surface.
“What’s your date like?” You try to ground the conversation.
River hesitates before responding, his voice flat and dispassionate.
“She’s fine. Its only been a couple of weeks.” He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, his gaze fixed on a spot over your shoulder. “She’s not you,” he adds quietly.
His voice is barely above a whisper, but the weight behind it is devastating.
Like a punch to the gut, the fact that he’s comparing someone else to you hits hard.
You snatch your hand back, but he’s faster.
He grabs your wrist firmly before you can pull away fully, his eyes back on you, unyielding.
It’s impossible to tell who moves first.
There’s no thought, no hesitation.
It’s an unconscious dance.
As you step forward, closing the small gap between you, River’s hand finds its familiar place at your waist, pulling you closer.
Your bodies collide, the impact is electrifying.
His mouth on yours, insistent and demanding, sends your senses into overdrive.
Your body betrays you as you respond eagerly to his touch.
His tongue sweeps across the seam of your lips, you grant him access, giving into the hunger that’s burned within you since you left him.
He guides you backward, pushing you until you feel the hard surface of the wall at your back. His body cages you, overwhelming you with his presence as his hands roam over your body with a possessive touch.
The intensity is dizzying. You arch your body towards him, desperate to feel the weight of him against you.
It feels like you're vibrating with a primal need for him.
He responds in kind, his body moulding to yours like a magnet as his lips trail down your throat.
He nips at the sensitive skin, your moans and sighs are fuel for the fire. He seems to revel in the sound, marking you as his with each press of his lips.
His grip on your hips tightens, pulling you as close to him as possible.
You can feel him, hard against your thigh. The need for him courses through you.
Your hand slips between your bodies, pressing against him.
He groans at the contact, his head dropping to your shoulder, his breath in ragged gasps.
“I need you,” this time you’re the one pleading.
“Not here,” he tells you, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.
His hands on your hips slide you along the wall, deeper into the shadows towards the fire exit.
Your hands reach for him again, desperate for more, but he bats them away with a smirk.
“Not here,” he repeats against your mouth.
His restraint fuels your impatience. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, the sound of his breath in your ear.
“Please,” you beg, “please.”
His fingers move with deliberate slowness, reaching through the split of your dress and tracing the edge of your underwear. He teases and taunts, the contact achingly close to where you want him.
You’re all to aware that you’ve been gone too long, but neither of you seem capable of caring. The need to have him, to feel his skin against yours, is overwhelming.
His fingers brush over your still covered clit, making you gasp.
“God, River,” your words spill out, a ragged breath somewhere between a sigh and a moan.
“You missed this?” He responds smugly.
His smirk is devilish, a reminder of the power he holds over you.
How you would have changed your entire pattern of behaviour in relationships at his request.
You can only nod in response, unable to form a coherent sentence.
A quick flick of his wrist and his fingers trace through your soaked folds.
He slides them into you and pumps them leisurely, as if he has all the time in the world.
In this moment, with his touch setting something alight within you, you realise that you wouldn’t run again.
If he asked you to stay, you’d face commitment head on, all for him.
You’d be willing to confront the fears and doubts that had kept you at arms length.
You’d plunge into uncharted waters to ease his pain, try to comprehend the sadness that lurked in the depths of his eyes.
You’d become the partner he needed, the one you’d denied him.
The realisation is terrifying and liberating.
The idea of being what he needs, filling the voids he’d kept hidden for so long, was exhilarating.
The pad of his thumb presses your clit in time with the movements of his hand, making you rut against him.
It wasn’t just this moment, this stolen tryst in the shadows of the restaurant with your date only a few meters away.
It was more than this desperate need and the pleasure that coursed through your veins.
You yearn for all of it, the good, the bad, the messy complexity of it all.
“Come for me,” he demands in your ear.
A silent cry escapes you as the tremors overtake your body, your legs shaking beneath you.
Tears well up in your eyes, a mixture of relief and pleasure, but there’s something more too.
Your clamped thighs free his hand and without hesitation he brings his wet fingers to his mouth.
The obscenity of it has your cunt clenching again, your heart pounding.
He searches your face, noticing the tears in your eyes.
His usual arrogance is replaced with worry.
“Is this not what you wanted?”
His concern seeps through, a reminder that beneath the desire and possessiveness, he still cares for you.
He carefully straightens your dress and then cups your face, brushing your tears away.
He’s never seen you cry, you’re not sure anyone has since you were a child.
“I’m fine,” you mumble, not even managing to convince yourself. The guilt washes over you as you remember his date, alone in the restaurant waiting for him. “You need to go, your date -”
“I know,” he sighs, his voice heavy with resignation. He knows as well as you do the boundaries he’s crossed.
“I didn’t mean to-” you begin, trying to offer some kind of worthless apology.
“I know,” he repeats. His understanding is reassuring and yet disheartening at the same time. “Take care,” he offers, a bittersweet goodbye as he moves away from you.
“I’m sorry.” The words tumble out, rushed and filled with guilt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t know how to be what you needed.”
The weight of your confession hangs in the air, the admission of your own failings. Your inability to give him what he’d needed from you.
“I hope she’s what you need,” your voice softens to a whisper, constricted by emotion. “You deserve someone really, really good, River.” You affirm, nodding with finality.
His face falls. You know it’s too little too late.
He turns without a backwards glance, leaving you alone in the dark corridor.
The restaurant lights seem painfully bright.
You’ve no idea how long you’ve been gone, time feels like it has been distorted, but you knew that it hadn’t been long enough.
“Thought I was going to have to send a search party!” Your date jokes with a loud laugh.
You force a polite smile, just enough to be reassuring.
“Sorry, I wasn’t feeling well.”
His incessant chatter and kindness leaves you feeling exposed.
You realise it’s not just River you hurt. Yes, he’s the one you’ve now realised you want, but there had been others before him.
Other hearts you’d carelessly stomped on without a second thought.
You don’t want to add to the pile. You need to end this now, before anyone else gets hurt.
“I’m so sorry,” you interrupt. “I’m afraid I have to go.” You stand up abruptly, knocking into the table and making it squeak.
It feels like everyone in the restaurant is staring at you, witnessing your hurried exit.
You hastily drop some money on the table, unable to look at your date now, and rush for the exit. You keep your eyes trained on the ground, wanting to flee from the weight of your guilt.
You gasp for air outside. The cold, February night rushes into your lungs.
You find yourself hurrying towards the queue of black cabs on the roadside, eager to distance yourself from the restaurant.
Back at home, you find yourself going over each choice you've ever made again and again, analyzing every decision, every misstep that had brought you to this point.
The weight of the people you've pushed away for so long feels almost unbearable in the quiet solitude of your home.
In your thoughts, River is the golden thread that weaves through it all.
He'd effortlessly chipped away at your walls, carving out a sacred space in your heart without even trying and without you realising.
And now you've brought him down to your level, given him his own dirty little secret. Your heart aches with regret.
The sound of a knock at your door startles you, and with trepidation, you peer through the peephole. Standing there is River, a sight that both terrifies and excites you.
“Why are you here?” You whisper hoarsely.
Your voice betrays the mixture of surprise and disbelief flooding through you.
Your heart thuds against your ribcage, waiting for his response.
“Why did you say I deserve someone good?” He asks, his voice charged with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.
“Because it's true,” you respond softly. The words hang heavy between you, and you continue, “just because I was too late and too stupid to see what was right in front of me -”
His words come fast, as if he couldn't bear to hear you belittle yourself.
“You're not stupid,” he insists, his voice firm yet tender.
“I've been so blind,” you admit, your words escaping in a whispered confession.
“It's not too late,” he says quietly, taking a step over the threshold and into your flat.
“No?” You ask hesitantly, the single word carrying your insecurity.
He moves past you, making himself comfortable, and pours you both a drink.
“Why were you crying earlier?” he asks, his tone surprisingly gentle.
A humorless laugh escapes you.
“Because I was questioning every decision I've ever made,” you joke.
He grins at your response.
“Bit deep?”
“Tell me about it,” you say. “Turns out running away all the time isn't always a good thing.” You fidget with your glass, avoiding his gaze as you realize the gravity of your own behavior.
His eyes watch you carefully as you slowly draw your own conclusions and understand the consequences of your actions.
“Seeing you again…” you continue, your voice cracking with emotion. “I should have been there when you needed me. I saw you suffering and I walked away. What kind of person does that make me?” Your gaze meets his, bravely, your eyes searching for any trace of judgement or condemnation.
“I didn't expect anything of you,” he assures you, his voice soothing your guilt-ridden conscience. “I never expected you to be there when I needed you. I knew you didn't know how to be, and I didn't expect anything more from you than what you could give.”
“But that's the thing, isn't it? It's not that I couldn't, it's that I wouldn't. I'm selfish. I've always been selfish,” you say harshly.
River's expression softens even more, understanding the pain behind your words.
He moves closer to you, bridging the distance between you.
“I told you, It's not too late,” he says softly.
He gently takes the drink from your hand, placing it down next to you.
He stands so close you can feel the warmth of his breath ghosting against your skin.
His fingers gently lift your chin to meet his gaze. “Seeing you again…” he begins, the rest of the sentence melts away.
The air between you is palpable, filled with unspoken feelings and raw emotion.
He leans in, his eyes never leaving yours.
“I missed you,” he mumbles.
His fingers trail across your cheek, trace the outline of your face as if trying to memorize every contour.
This time, you're the one leaning into his touch.
A shiver runs down your spine as he continues, “I missed watching you come apart for me," his gaze flicks briefly to your lips.
You force yourself to speak, closing your eyes and trying to maintain composure.
“We can't just go back to how things were,” you manage to say, your voice firm, yet tinged with a hint of sadness.
His response is tinged with a mix of humor and sincerity.
“Good. I can't change my feelings for you, believe me I, fucking tried,” he smirks, a hint of self-deprecating humor in his tone.
It's clear he's been just as affected by your absence as you have been by his.
“So what do we do?” you ask.
There's something incredibly vulnerable about this moment, the question echoing through the room as you wait for his response.
“I think we have some unfinished business,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with a desire that's undeniable.
He takes another step closer to you, the distance between you almost non-existent.
“Don't you?” he asks, his eyes boring into yours.
You know there are conversations to have, apologies and assurances to make, but in this moment, what matters most is the understanding between you.
Knowing that he recognizes exactly what you need right now, it's enough.
Your eyes flutter shut as he moves closer to you, barely a breath apart.
His proximity is magnetic, the air between you crackling with electricity.
“Please,” you breathe, your words barely above a whisper as your arms loop around his shoulders and draw him in.
He complies willingly, his body melting into yours as your chests press together.
His lips meet yours, and it's like coming home after a long journey.
With every brush of his tongue against yours, you feel the barriers between you crumble, replaced by a need that is both primal and intoxicating.
He moves with a sense of urgency, pushing you backwards towards the bedroom while his hands send a trail of fire across your skin with every touch.
It's possessive and dominant, and your body responds exactly as it always has, surrendering to him entirely.
His mouth moves down your neck, nipping and kissing at your sensitive skin.
He tugs at your dress, moving it aside to gain access to more flesh to mark as his own.
His fingers fumble for a moment before finding the zip of your dress.
He pulls it down, allowing you to pull your arms free from the sleeves.
Then he gently, but urgently, pushes the fabric down over your hips, the material slipping down to pool at your feet.
His eyes trail over your form, appreciation and desire naked in his gaze.
“Every time I close my eyes, I see you,” he murmurs.
The admission is raw and honest, and as he traces the outline of your bra with a finger, a shiver races down your spine.
He uses the band of your underwear to tug you closer, pulling you flush against his body.
His eyes darken, fixed on the way your breath stutters as his hand dips lower.
The air between you crackles with tension as he continues his exploration, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure.
He steers you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed and then gently pushes you down.
You prop yourself up on your elbows, watching as he nudges your knees apart, creating space for him to settle between them.
He plants a kiss on the inside of your knee, his gaze locked onto yours, making sure you're watching him.
“You running again?” he teases, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Not again,” you whisper, your words carrying an intensity that leaves no doubt in his mind.
You're itching to reach out and touch him, to feel the play of muscles under your fingertips, to map out his body as it moves against yours.
He stands up from the bed, leaving you propped on your elbows, watching with anticipation as he moves away.
He strips off his clothes, leaving only his boxers in place.
The sight of him, familiar yet new, ignites a fire within you, one fueled by the time apart and the knowledge that this time, you're both in it for more than just the physical.
The idea that this time, you're truly committing to each other, is almost more of a turn on than any physical touch.
Your thighs press together in a bid to find any friction that might alleviate the ache that's building. It's an involuntary response, driven by a need to be close to him, to have him fill you up.
He knows the effect he's having on you. And as he takes himself in hand, under the fabric of his boxers, you know it's for your benefit more than his own.
“Thought about you every day,” he confesses.
His head tilts back, eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a soft hiss. You watch as his thumb brushes over the tip of his cock, his breath coming in short, quick gasps.
“Riverrr,” you whine, the sound of his name on your lips a desperate plea for more.
He opens his eyes at the sound, his gaze locking onto yours as he takes in the sight of you.
“Need something?” He responds with a smirk, his hand moving lazily beneath the fabric.
You nod, your body craving him, now.
You slide to the edge of the bed, your hand reaching out to grip his boxers, tugging at them, silently demanding what you need.
He obliges, removing his hand and giving you free reign.
The air between you crackles with anticipation as you pull his boxers down over his hips, exposing him fully to your gaze.
The sight of him makes your mouth water, your tongue darting out in anticipation as you imagine the taste of him.
You know it so intimately, and yet it's been too long.
You want the weight of him on your tongue, his hands in your hair.
You lean in, your tongue tracing a circle around the tip of his cock before taking him into your mouth. He moans at the sensation, his hand tangling into your hair.
There's a pattern to your movements, a rhythm that has been hard-coded into your memory.
Your hand moves in sync with your mouth, drawing sounds from him that you've missed, sounds that have haunted you during the nights when you've been alone, trying to ease the ache that has been building inside you for months.
His fingers tighten in your hair briefly before letting go.
He brushes your hair from your face, gently pushing the strands out of the way, wanting a clear view of what you're doing to him.
“You look so good,” he manages to say, his words coming out through gritted teeth, his self-control slipping slightly as he watches you take him deeper.
Your hand moves up to cup your breast, pinching and teasing at your nipple, mimicking the way you know he'd touch you.
River's eyes darken even more as he watches, his hands clenching into fists again in your hair as he grips a little harder.
The vibration of your moan against him sends a jolt through his body, making his hips jerk instinctively.
“You need to stop,” he grunts, but there's a hint of desperation in his words, a part of him that doesn't actually want you to stop.
You release him with a wet pop, a trail of saliva connecting your lips to his skin, and look up at him
“Really?” you ask.
“Really,” he repeats, his voice hoarse with desire as he pushes you back onto the bed.
“Just evening the score,” you tell him, remembering how he'd already made you come once in the dark restaurant corridor.
“That doesn't count,” he tells you, settling between your thighs, “I need to hear you.”
He brushes his lips against your neck, his words a hot whisper against your skin.
“God, I wanted to fuck you so badly earlier.” He confesses. The honesty of his words, the need that tinges them, makes your breath catch in your throat.
His teeth find the same spot that he marked earlier, but this time he's rougher, leaving a visible mark that can't be hidden.
He's as desperate for you as you are for him.
His hands grip your thigh, hitching your leg up around his hip, and you roll against him, grinding against his length.
He captures your lips in a hungry, demanding kiss before pulling back, his eyes dark and intense.
“No more running,” he tells you, an edge in his tone. “I won't let you run again.”
“I'm done running,” you reply, your voice soft but full of conviction.
The words hold a deeper meaning beyond just the physical, and he senses this.
His hand moves between you, sliding your underwear to the side and guiding himself into place.
He pushes slowly into you, savouring the tightness that makes both of you gasp, the pleasure sharp and electric after months of being apart.
He leans his forehead against yours, eyes locked onto yours, breathing raggedly.
“Promise me,” he says, and it sounds almost like a plea.
He feels perfect, stretching you and filling you.
“I promise,” you breathe, and it feels like a commitment, like a bridge being built.
He begins to move, slowly, keeping his forehead pressed up against yours so that you're never too far apart.
“No one else,” he mutters, his voice rough and possessive. “No one else sees you like this.”
Each word is punctuated by a hard thrust, as he stakes his claim on you.
“No one else touches you like this,” he continues, his lips finding your neck, “no one else makes you feel like this.”
The way he's moving, the way he's touching you, it makes you believe him.
“No one else takes you apart like I do. No one else fucks you like I do.”
The words, filthy and needy, drive you wild, and you can't help but feel completely consumed by him.
“No one else,” you agree, the words coming out in a breathless gasp, “god, River.”
His eyes darken further, and he leans in to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss, biting at your lip.
“Mine,” he growls, his fingers gripping your thigh.
“F-fuck, River, only yours,” you cry out, your words a broken, overwhelmed whimper, your body shakes as he fucks you through your orgasm.
It's more than just words; it's a truth that has been simmering between you for months, something that has gone unspoken out of fear. But now, as he works you through the aftershocks, his grip on you never loosening, the words seem to carry a deeper weight to them.
“Only yours,” he repeats, his voice thick. “Only mine,” he growls, his fingers digging into your skin as he picks up the tempo again, pushing you further, wanting to drive you to the edge once more, wanting to hear those words spill from your lips again.
He brings his hand between your bodies, where he's sinking inside you.
His thumb presses firmly against your clit, drawing small, delicious circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves.
With each stroke, you can feel the pressure building again, the tension rising.
“Want to hear you again,” he says possessively.
With his mouth, he finds your nipple and bites down, the pain mixing with pleasure.
He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes intense and feral, filled with a desperate need to hear you reach that peak again.
His tongue, his thumb, the movement of him inside you, all compounds and builds until you clench tightly around him, feeling your walls pulse.
“More, River,” you beg.
He obliges, his movements growing rougher, his teeth marking and claiming.
With a gasp, you fall over the edge, free-falling into pleasure that leaves you shaking beneath him.
The intensity of it brings him with you, his hips snapping as he spills inside you.
He collapses onto you, his body covering yours, his breathing harsh against your neck.
The pleasure continues to wash over you in waves, consuming you until you're limp and sated, your body trembling in the aftermath.
You lay, trying to catch your breath, to find your bearings.
Your body feels like it's humming.
His hand lazily moves up to brush the sweaty strands of hair away from your face.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice rough.
You nod.
“Yeah, yeah that was…” you trail off, unable to find the words.
He understands the speechless feeling.
“Yeah,” he agrees, resting his head in the crook of your neck.
A comfortable silence falls over both of you, broken only by the sound of your labored breathing.
“Don't get too comfortable,” he kisses your shoulder.
“Why's that then?” you ask quietly.
“Because I'm not done with you yet,” he tells you, his voice low.
He kisses the soft spot at the crook of your neck, his hands already roaming your body, as if eager to start all over again.
“Want to make sure I don't run away again?” You giggle.
“I want to make sure you can't run away,” his tone is low and gravelly against your ear as he continues, “'m gonna fuck you till you can't walk, let alone run.”
You feel the scrape of his stubble against your skin, the possessive grip of his fingers on your hip, and a shiver runs down your spine in anticipation.
You know he means it, the same way your body already knows what he’s about to do.
He nudges you onto your side and pulls your leg up and behind his, opening you up to him.
His fingers slip inside your ruined underwear and between your legs, through the sticky mess that he's made there, coaxing you back to life.
And for the first time in your life, you're not ready to bolt.
FIN
Tumblr media
22 notes · View notes
chouxsardine · 1 year ago
Text
Hold Me (1)--- Jake Kiszka x reader
Tumblr media
My fic for @seenoversundown 's Valentine's Day Writing Event! I choose the prompt: Play Truth or Dare
Summary: "hold me like you hold your Les Paul, have your way with me the way you play her.” || Your drunk slip-up leads to one of the best Valentine's Day gift you've ever got
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader
Word Count: 3547
Warnings (for this part): 18+! Minors DNI, sexual implications, cursing, alcohol, dom Jake/sub reader, guitar kink, bondage, scissors, inappropriate use of guitar strap, pickle slander
Author's note: Remember I said here about a series of improper guitar use fantasy? Well, here's another one! This idea has been circling in my mind for the longest time. Happy Valentine's Day, Enjoy!
🎧: Dirty Little Religion by Warren Zevon
Tumblr media
“Come on, y/n, you have to play by the rules. That’s only fair.”
“Oh gosh, please don’t,” you groaned, banging your forehead on the table, regretting every possible decision you have made in the last two hours.
It was a Friday night, Jake and you were throwing your very own drinking party at home. It started out with some innocent cocktails but has somehow soon turned into chugging down straight tequila. To add to the fun, you proposed an impromptu and very informal round Truth or Dare, which, looking back now, was a very bad idea. Yes, your original intention was to fish out some funny anecdotes from Jake, but woe is you—how the tables have turned. Now, you were the one facing the difficult choice between spilling your dirtiest fantasy or drinking a shot of pickle juice.
That dare was definitely devilish, and Jake was setting it up for you to fail. He knew you absolutely can’t stand pickle juice, especially when it’s that bottom-of-the-jar “essence”— evilly green and murky with all the loosened pulp and seeds floating around. Simply one look at it made you sick.
“Pick your poison, darling,” Jake said, making no effort to hide his smirk.
You tentatively reached for the shot glass but immediately gave in as its smell reached your nose. Why trouble yourself? You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t an arousing tingle inside. Simply the way Jake said the word ‘fantasy’ sounds sexy. Talking about the chokehold this man has on you. It was clear that you were fighting a losing battle. To choose something so ghastly over a little spice in the uncharted territory is just straight-up stupid. Plus, you may or may not have had a bit too much to drink. You felt positive that one simple sip of that pickle juice would make you throw up before the alcohol does.
Sensing the silence, Jake’s demeanour changed. He was more than tipsy, yes, but not to the point that it stops him from being attentive to your feelings and reactions. It was a cute, hot little thing he came up with on the spur of the moment that he thought would be fun. It wasn’t meant to put you on the spot. To make you uncomfortable and ruining the moment is the last thing he wanted.
“Hey, it’s okay, you don’t have—”
“I’ve always—”
You opened your mouth simultaneously.
Jake took one look at you and shut up immediately. Your cheeks are flushed, your half-lidded eyes were fixed on him with a familiar look. Your left knee that was previously stretched out was now bent against your chest. Oh.
“Go on.” He whispered.
Fuck it.
“I’ve always felt jealous of your guitar, you know that? Especially when you are away on tour. The way you play it on stage, making all those girls scream for you…And that one time you fucking kissed it to make the vibration like that?” You let out a humourless laugh as your eyes narrowed, “it drives me mad.” The way you accentuate “mad” blurs its meaning, and it makes Jake wonder.
“Mad, huh? Which kind? Mad as in crazy, or mad as in angry?”
The drinking game long forgotten now that it has changed into your worship of Jake. You ignored his question completely as you continue. The words coming out much easier and at a faster pace.
“Or the way you slap it, the way you hold its neck and rock it,” all the images and videos you’ve seen are alive in your mind, overlaying with the sight of Jake right before your eyes, “the way you make her whine and scream.”
Jake’s heart skips a bit at the change of pronoun.
“Did you ever get hard while doing that?” You set down the glass on the table, got down on your hands and knees, crawling towards Jake until you were by his feet. “I bet you did. How can you not?” Jake beckoned and you straddled his lap in one swift motion, holding his face. Your eyes were glassy, your pupils dilated. “That’s when I get so jealous and….and insecure.” Jake frowned at that last word. He never thought of that.
“That’s when I wish I was there, waiting for you backstage. I want to kiss you and tell you how amazing you look up there because you deserve it,” with that, you studied Jake’s face intensely through your droopy eyes before defeatedly dropping your head onto his shoulder, your words muffled and slurred,“hell, you have no idea what I want to do to you.”
“I will if you tell me,” Jake tempted.
You pulled back, staring down at him. You caressed his cheek, your fanned breath tickling the loose strands of hair that frame his face. To Jake, you feel like a warm dessert soaked in bourbon; you looked…delicious. It was the same kind of primal desire that shares the same origin with hunger, the wild biological needs fuming. All your shame and self-consciousness unraveled by the alcohol, coming off like a corset with its ribbons pulled.
“I want you to tie me up with your guitar strap,” your eyes closed at how good it felt finally having those words freed from your mind, “I want you to hold me like you hold your Les Paul, have your way with me the way you play her.”
Jake’s jaw hung open. Damn, alcohol does makes people open up. He was not expecting you to say that and was also not expecting himself finding it so incredibly hot. Practically, whiskey dick, but mentally, he was so hard. Before he could come up with a decent response, your head dropped down again, this time with a heavier thud, and he could feel your breathing change.
“Y/n?”
No response.
He was so glad you finished that last sentence before passing out.
Tumblr media
That was some weeks ago and you only had vague memories of the night. You knew that you must have spilled some crazy shit because since then, on several occasions, you have caught Jake staring at you. Well, it’s not like he can keep his eyes off you very often, but you can tell this is different. He would have his thumb and index fingers rubbing his chin, looking deep in thought as if composing a riff, except that his eyes are on you, and there is a predatory smugness that keeps you at your feet.
“For fucks sake, Jake. You’re doing it again! Why are you glaring at me like that?” You have tried fishing it out of him more than once.
“Secret” and a wry smile were the answers you got every time.
Luckily, he didn’t keep you waiting for too long; it was only a few days later when you finally get to find out about it.
Neither Jake nor you are the type of people who would go overboard on Valentine’s Day. In the past, it has always been a cute dinner date followed by a night that is both sweet and spicy. You could tell Jake is up to something this time. He’s been dropping subtle (or so he thought) hints throughout the day.
Evening was fast approaching. You opted for staying in and cooking. Jake made an amazing chicken piccata. (He even used heart-shaped pasta!) Dinner was quick and delicious, Warren Zevon’s record was playing in the background as you did the dishes. A pair of arms wraps around your waist as you turn off the faucet. Jake’s curls tickle your skin. He is humming to the song, and it takes you a second to realize that he was humming along with the record to the lyrics of Dirty Little Religion.
“I have a gift for you, sweetheart.”
You playfully rolled your eyes, as if his intentions couldn’t be clearer. But who says you aren’t equally (or perhaps more) excited?
“Oh love, you’ve been so good to me all day, how could I ask more from you?” You sound innocent, as if completely unaware of the implications.
“M’not asking. I’m offering. My good girl deserves all my loving.” Jake replies slyly.
Jake calling you good girl will always make you knees go weak. You turn around in his embrace and willingly accept his affectionate kiss on the lips before pulling open the dishwasher. ‘Fine. I’ll just finish up here real quick, okay?”
“Of course, and when you do, come downstairs and find me.”
You quirk your eyebrows. “Downstairs, huh?” It looks like he does has some ideas.
“And you better hurry up, sugar.” He gives you a teasing smack on the butt before turning on his heels.
Tumblr media
Downstairs means his studio. Your steps are a bit wobbly as you reach the bottom of the stairs and your fingers shiver as they come into contact with the cool metal of the doorknob. Calm down, y/n, you could be getting all riled up over nothing; knowing that couldn’t be further from the truth, your attempt to calm down sounds pathetic. Throughout your relationship with Jake, the last thing this man ever did was disappoint. And if your nose serves you right, you detect a faint smell of magnolia in the air—the scent that was only reserved for certain occasions. God, what has Jake been planning?
On a second thought, you retrieve your hand from the doorknob, choosing to gently knock three times. A gut feeling tells me that the man of the other side of the door would prefer some manners tonight.
“Come in.”
You push the door open. The room is warm and well-lit, looking the same as usual. Jake is sitting in his Corbusier-style leather chair in the corner, fingers steepling together.
“Hmmmm, a girl with courtesy I see. Very well.” Jake commends.
Bingo. You smile coyly. Your praise kink almost made you curtsy to him.
“Already so good, perhaps I have to find something else to reward you with on top of your gift,” Jake says thoughtfully as he approaches you and pulls you in for a kiss, “but first, my princess deserves to live out her fantasy.”
Fantasy? The way Jake says it gives the word a familiar twang that triggers something in your brain. Your mind is racing as it flips through memories from the past few weeks. Looking around you, most of Jake’s guitars are hanging on the wall instead of resting on the stand. A rather odd thing for him to do. And every guitar on the wall has the strap attached, hanging below them and casting snake-like shadows on the wall.
Then it kicks in. Memories of that Truth or Dare night rushes back to you. Your drunken words replay themselves in your mind, clear and loud: “I want you to tie me up with your guitar strap.”
“Oh, Jake, you didn’t—” Your hands fly up to cover your face in embarrassment.
“Oh, but I do,” Jake laughs, taking your hands in his and thumbing them in soothing circles, “no need to be shy, love. There’s nothing shameful about having desires; it’s a very human thing to do.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. I’m so happy that you feel comfortable enough to share it with me,” Jake smile reassuringly, “and I find it hot beyond words.”
Your eyes shot up at him upon hearing it, and Jake’s gaze tells you that he is being honest. Seeing that you’ve relaxed, Jake leads you to stand right in front of his guitar display, his hands resting steadily on your shoulders.
“I’ll let you take your pick, doll. Whichever one that has the honour to have caught your eyes.”
You take a deep breath, feeling like a child in a candy store. This is not the time to get overwhelmed. Your eyes first travel greedily between the guitars, linger over their smooth curves, then you divert to the straps. Jake’s signature ’61 Les Paul SG is standing tall and proud in the middle, paired with the most often seen thin leather strap in back. Moving further right is his SG Classic with the Pinegrove brown padded strap from earlier days, and there’s the black one with the broader shoulder pad which was once used to hold a double-neck but now used on his Coodercaster. You picture them laying over Jake’s shoulder, the way they strain and slacken with his movement, the umbilical cord between his body and his creation. You also imagine the what they would look and feel when wrapped around your waist. The slightly nervous you is inching towards the brown strap—it looks so comforting with its suede texture and its wrinkled surface, and its also wider, therefore leaning towards a cuff rather than a rope when tied; however, the bolder voice obviously prefers the black one—classy, timeless, direct and succinct like a command. It’s thinner, so it might cut into your skin if you are squirming too much (which you definitely will), but isn’t that what you are after? Isn’t that the gist—pleasure mixed with pain?
Jake is being unexpectedly patient, giving you all the time you need to take it in as he resumes his previous position in the chair, admiring your predicament from afar.
“I want that one.” You blurt out finally, pointing at his black strap.
The look on Jake’s face made you suspect that he has known what you’d choose all along.
“Nice choice.” Jake comments, stepping forward to remove the strap from the guitar. You know it’s most likely in your head, but the strap looks different the second that it was detached from the instrument; now wrapped around Jake’s palm, it looks more powerful, it looks like it is determined to serve its intended purpose well for tonight.
“Now go upstairs.”
This time, the command is brusque.
Oh, so the studio is not the final destination. You feel like being on a scavenger’s hunt, following all the clues and getting more snd more excited and impatient by the second. You can’t tell if you are disappointed or relieved that you are not doing…well, whatever Jake intends to do with you…in his studio.
You hands are already touching the door when you heard him again:
“While you are up there, princess, do yourself a favour and strip down to your bra and panties.”
You gasp, but chose not to turn around.
“Yes,” you murmur just loudly enough for him to hear you, “Sir.”
Tumblr media
Upstair in your shared bedroom, you do not know how to position your body. You are naked except for your underwear, but the room still seems too hot. You tried laying in bed in a sultry pose—too pretentious, for fuck’s sake, you’ re not shooting porn. You sat down but you kept hugging your knees to yourself—you don’t want Jake to mistake that as reluctance. You are just a bit jittery. God knows how long you’ve been fantasizing this. You tried sitting on the ottoman, but the leather kept sticking to your bum, and it wouldn’t take long before you start sweating and leaving a shame-filled imprint on the seat. You’ve always wanted this, and it’s Jake, there’s nothing to be nervous about, just do what feels best.
Alright, alright.
Following the voice in your heart, you find yourself dropping down to your knees, kneeling on the plush beige rug by the bed. You have your back against the bedroom door. You know it would be impossible for you not to look at Jake’s reaction the moment he see you in this pose, but you are also not sure if you are ready to take that reaction. To you, for now, kneeling feels the most right. For you and Jake, the dom/sub thing in bed is never explicit. Sure, he enjoys you calling him Daddy from time to time and you definitely have got him all whiny and teary for more than once, but this would be the first time that you will be trying restraints. You guess you have always had this fantasy—there’s just something about Jake and his guitar that makes your knees buckle. You are secretly thankful for your drunk slip-up, because you are not sure if you will have the courage to stare into his eyes and say those words sober, even though you know that Jake would never judge you.
The sound of the door opening interrupts your thought. The room is so quiet that you can hear a pin drop, and you are holding your breath. Therefore, even without looking, you are positive that Jake hitches his breath when he sees you. You regret a little for facing away from him. Now you want to see his expression.
“Don’t move.” As if reading your mind, Jake orders. You straighten your back. Jake approaches until he is standing right behind you.
“What a good girl.”
Something touches you. You quickly realize Jake is using the bended strap to trace random patterns on your back. You feel the looped end of the strap at your cervical spine before it circles around your scapula, from where it travels down along your spine all the way to your hipbone, dipping a little into the elastic band of your panties. Jake watches the involuntary contraction of your muscles as they react to the touch, feeling satisfied as he sees the fine hairs on the back of your neck slightly perk up.
You just breathed a sigh of relief when you feel the smooth leather again, this time reaching in front and tracing your clavicle. It stops at the little indentation between the bones, right beneath your throat and inches upwards to your chin, tilt it upward, then finding leverage on the left side of your jaw, Using it to turn your head back.
You run straightforward into Jake’s eyes, which are now the colour of melted chocolate. The dark, mesmerizing, 80% cocoa type.
Your pouty lips and puppy eyes are silently begging him for a kiss. Jake indulges, catching your bottom lip between his teeth slightly as his pulls away.
“Already tasting so sweet, angel.”
Aside from the praise, the tenderness in his tone is unvarnished. This is the voice he uses whenever he checks up on you. This is a sign that you are about to have the talk—the sweet conversation with a fraction of awkwardness before you two try out anything new that gives consent and sets up rules and boundaries.
“I…I really want this.” You pre-empt.
“That’s good to hear,” Jake chuckles. Now he has came around, sitting face to face with you. What looks like a wash bag laying beside his knees. What? He has gone and got a bag for this? You wonder what the hell he has got in there.
“I know it’s been a minute, but do you still remember our safe word?”
“Yes. It’s ‘soundcheck’.” You answer, peeling your eyes away from the bag. The safe word was something you two has settled early on in your relationship. Neither of you has been in a position that requires the use of it, but the simple fact that such a word exists and you are comfortable using it when the situations calls for is reassurance for both sides.
“Good. Use it if you need to. Since we are trying something new today, I suggest we add on to it a bit more,” Jake holds your gaze steadily as you nod, “we are going with colours. Green means all good and continue; yellow means pause, say it if you feel like it’s too much, we will take a break, check in, work things out, and you decide if you want to keep going; red is the big ‘no-no’, say it and everything, I mean everything, stops immediately, no question asked. Copy?”
“Yes, green to go, yellow to pause, and red to stop.” You repeat it back, knowing Jake always requires a clear response at this point. This is starting to sound like those naughty romance novels, although you have a secret feeling that what you’re about to experience is going to be so much better.
“Clever girl,” Jake unzips the bag and takes out a pair of scissors, showing them to you, “these are safety shears. I feel like they’re necessary if I am tying you up today. They are medical grade and they cut through everything. Whatever the reason you need out of the restraints, they get you the quick release. ”
He places the scissors in your hands. You hold on to it, finding its curved blade and matte handle consoling. “Now listen up, if it comes to that,” Jake speaks slowly, his index finger tapping your naked skin with each accentuated word, “I will cut the strap. I don’t care how long I’ve had it or how much it costs. They are nothing compared to your safety. Do you hear me, love?”
“Yes. Yes, I understand.” You heart melts at how serious he is taking this. You knew he must’ve done his research. The colour system and all. “Thank you, Jake.”
“No need to thank me for keeping you safe, doll,” Jake squeezes your hand gently, “now, are we ready?”
Part 2 out now
Tumblr media
Yeah! you made it! Thank you SO MUCH for reading :))
any comments and feedbacks are greatly welcomed and deeply appreciated. I've never done a taglist before....does anyone want to be tagged for part 2?
my other works: Permission to Fall | Mariner's Complex | Ticked (all my boxes) | Love is a four-legged word | The Lucky Ones | Coming back to me | Warm Honey | He Would
83 notes · View notes
itstheghostofmypast · 11 months ago
Note
MOOT GAME: " make up a trope for your moots and their biases. doesn’t need to be romantic. can be crackfic/funny/anything you want ^ㅇ(๑>◡<๑)ㅇ^ "
Okay- so, first of all, thank you so much Anon, for this ask and I'm sorry I responded to late, but I had to take my time with this one.😭💖.
So here it goes, (i know i said i'd do two biases, im sorry guys, i love yall too much and i get too invested the word count was killing me)
Tumblr media
1) @edenesth
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Park Seonghwa- Rivals to Lovers
Here me out, he owns an old book shop across the street, he's been there longer than you too. This was his turf, his town, his people, people who loved to read in his cozy library, with its olden print books, worn out pages, read through by generations of the same family.
All was great until one spring she shows up, with her whole pastel plus minimalistic vibes, all with the cutesy trinkets and plants, with warm lights- he noticed some books too, but they were only for show- in conclusion it was a horrid place.
A horrid place where most teens would go to after school now, no longer going to his bookshop, where they'd gossip, read novels or mangas, or even look at pretty pictured magazines (the safe kind, mind you he kept nothing nasty). What's worse was that the older folk began to go there, too! Especially because of how nice she was to them, so polite and so pretty and - ANNOYING.
He even went to 'inspect' the place, with a sour mood and an ill intention, though he was greeted with a burst of sweet aroma, one that had his stomach growling and his inner foodie, begging him to pick at least one of the many pastries or have a cup of steaming, delicious coffee. What came next was worst, her, with her gentle smile and angelic features.
"Hello! Welcome to Spring Avenue, how may we help you today?"
"You're taking my traffic."
"I'm sorry, I don't understand."
"Of course you don't."
With that he had walked out, starting a cold war, between the two. Ironically, she was a pacifist, never a fighter, but boy, did he piss her off, he knew all those buttons that would have her steaming like a hot latte.
The war had begun;
It all began when he put a " 10% off sign on Mangas, Fashion Magazines and Manhwas" that took a god chunk of her traffic.
In retaliation, she launched a "Friendship campaign, any customer that brings a friend gets a cake slice free."
Spend 2 hours reading here and leave with a borrowed book/novel of your choice."
"Buy a coffee and get a cookie free."
This continued throughout the season, so did their rivalry, to an extent that led their divided customers sense the tension. And like usual, highschoolers are escapists and this little feud of Seonghwa and her's was a problem they'd like to avoid, from her cafe they could see their beloved bookshop owner Seonghwa scowl at them, and if they were leaving the bookshop, the kids could feel the uneasiness in her smile that she give them once they'd pass her by.
"Congratulations, you're in loss." She sighed, closing the file, earning a scowl from the cafe owner, "Hey, I'm just here to check your bills, loss, and profit stuff, don't shoot the messenger."
"Alexia, come on." She whined, this was her dream, she'd put in her life's savings for this, "What should I do, Lexi?"
"Gosh, maybe not give out stupid discounts four times in a month?" Alexia sighed, rubbing her face, leaning back to stare at the bookshop across the street, "San said he knows the owner, maybe you guys could do a collab, instead of trying to each other's traffic."
"Who's San?" She asked her best friend, slash account manager and Public Relations officer- wait, was she dating!?
"Oh- uh- hey would you look at the time?" Alexia got up, grabbing her disposable coffee cup and bag, "Tell you what, you ask the bookshop owner dude about this? Okay? I'll get back with the details on Monday!" She called out as she walked towards the door, ignoring the cafe owner's questions about this San, "BYE LOVE YOU!"
That's how she found herself standing Infront of his bookshop that evening, still debating if she should go in or not? Was this idea even worth it, the guy was rude, annoying, stupid, incredibly handsome and sweet with kids and- the hell.
"Can I help you?" His deep voice came out of no where
She almost jumped out of her skin, only to turn around and spot the man she had been hating for the past ten months, standing there in all his angleic glory, with that ugly sweater and that overly comfortable scarf, not to mention his hair, his undercut had grown, quiet well too, perhaps he really was blessed with good genes.
"I uh..." she trailed off, pouting to herself, thinking of how he'd react, maybe he would make fun of her, or insult her or even go as far as to tell the town about her poor business management skills.
"Are you still open?" his question had caught her off guard, staring at him quietly wanting to see if this was a trick, only it wasn't, for when she nodded, he had looked around and then asked if he could...get a cup of coffee from there.
Of course she had said yes, why on earth would she say no to a customer, she needed the business. Unfortunately, that one cup of coffee, turned into two, then three, well- not as unfortunate as she would like it to be.
The two, mind you, who still didnt like each other, began to learn a lot about each other. He learnt how she was genuinely a sweet, caring and gentle person, her persona was indeed not fake but very real, this is who she was. She on the other hand, learned that he had inherited this business from his family, and he was an avid reader- sort a geek, a cute geek, a cute geek that could eat a whole chocolate cake with three mugs off coffee like it was nothing.
It wasn't until the third week of him visiting her cafe, that when he had stepped out to go there, he had bumped into her. She had almost fallen, but he was quick, gripping her wrist and pulling her into his chest, only to laugh when she mumbled an excuse, though he was glad she couldn't hear how his heart was hammering against his chest, wanting to stuff itself in the breast pocket of her coat.
That day she had asked him if she could check out his book shop, because she had been looking for old English bakery recipes and she couldn't find it anywhere, not any store around or online. Of course he had taken her to the right isle, in the right section in no time, this bookshop was his life and collecting and sifting through books was his passion, that day he had seen her passion, she had sat there, on the floor the entire night, reading book after book, mumbling to herself as she noted down recipes. He had sat next to her, helping her jot down notes, bringing her coffee- well not as good as hers, but good enough. At one point he had even ordered them a late night snack, well snacks, because he's a growing boy. He had closed the shop with the two inside, even pulled out a blanket and some cushions from the lounging area so she could comfortably work- she was a passionate girl and ironically he had realised something that night, only it turned into a full blown epiphany in the morning.
Next morning she had woken up right next to him, her head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her as the blanket was draped over the two, they had fallen asleep while reading- oh my, he really was pretty up close.
Though the two pretended nothing had happened, nothing had changed, however, everyone around them had noticed, the highschoolers would giggle when he'd come to her cafe for a cup of coffee, or how the older folk would pat him on the back when she'd step into the bookshop calling him out for help, with her little, "Hwa?"
Neither really knew how it happened, but one night while closing up he had waited outside for her, telling her he'd drop her home, even though she lived close by. Slowly this had become part of their routine, he'd often talk about the latest manga or an issue to the Star Wars comics or whatever on earth he'd talk about, but she'd always listen. Always smile and laugh at his jokes, while he'd readily accept any test recipes she'd try, telling her that his stomach was like a blackhole.
But when do the two get together? Simple, on New Years Eve, when he had to close his shop but she had decided to leave her cafe open, wanting to cater to all those who were celebrating the arrival of the new year with their loved ones, she knew Seonghwa had to go home anyway and she didn't want to spend the night alone since her family was out of town. What she did not expect was a few minutes before the strike of midnight, the cafe door chimed open as she turned to greet the customer, only to freeze at the sight before her- Seonghwa entering with a bouqet of origami flowers, smiling at her as he slowly walked to her;
"I- I know you don't like plucking flowers or bouqets, so I made you these."
"You...made these?"
"Ofcourse."
"W-why?"
"I...because I..." but before he could finish his sentence his ears picked up the count down, causing him to quickly place the flowers on the counter and as soon as the fireworks rang in her ears, it was as if she could feel the burning warmth in her body, taking a second to process how his lips were on hers, his hands cupping her face as her hands instinctively went up to grip his coat, pulling him even closer. Who knew that one day she'll end up opening a cafe that also served as a bookstore, who knew that one day, her little, evil, handsome rival bookseller, would be the New Year's kiss she never knew she needed, the man she never knew she needed, the lover that she was blessed to have.
2) @yessa-vie
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Jeong Yunho- Neighbors to Lovers
No, she was not the new tenant, he was, and for some ungodly reason he was also extremely ill-prepared to live alone. Like any other weekend, she was leaving her apartment to go to the cafe to sit in peace and finish her novel, but God had other plans. She had opened the door to come face to face with a tall, good-looking man, though the smile he wore scared her- he was one of those extroverts.
No, he was not mean at all, nor was he the manipulative kind, Jeong Yunho really didn't know how the pre-installed dishwasher worked, that's why he had come to her that fateful weekend, about to knock on the door but she had beat him to it, opening the door before he could, earning a sheepish smile in return- who knew his neighbour would be so gorgeous, who knew purple could look so good on someone?
"Hey, I- I moved in across the hall, apartment 19, lol, I guess we're neighbours, huh?"
She had only nodded meekly at his question, pulling her satchel closer to her person, not because she didn't like him, no, but because she wasn't much of a talker anymore, not so confident either and also- because regardless of how good looking this stranger was, he was still a stranger.
"I'm Yunho- Sorry to bother you, I know you must be going somewhere, but I- I uh- I wanted to know if you know how to operate the dishwasher?"
That's how she found herself in his apartment, leaving the maindoor wide open, so she could escape if something were to happen, but to her surprise he was just a regular idiot, one who thought the dishwasher was a rack used to dry the dishes- men.
That night Yunho met an angel, one who seemingly had her life planned out, held together well, while he was still trying to build something out of his- data analyst or not, living alone was not the easiest thing to do, yet, she seemed so nonchalant about it.
Overtime however, she noticed how he would come over to ask her for help often, sometimes it was the 'fridge isn't working right' other times it was the 'how much water do you add to rice while boiling it?' Honestly, she would've told him to piss off if it were anyone else, but it was her polite neighbour, her sweet polite, new neighbour who would pass her by in the corridor every morning, smiling at her and wishing her a good morning- even if she wasn't a morning person.
Ironically, he continued to ensure they cross paths, only because he wanted to get to know her, to talk to her, he really needed a friend, and since moving here meant Mingi and him could no longer hang out 24/7, he really needed another person to talk to, someone who was not Hongjoong from the finance department.
Ironically, she did not protest or tell him to get lost, instead she's quietly help him whenever he'd approach her, giving him a shy smile then going back to her apartment. That purple door tempting him to go back and knock on the old wood, wanting to know what Narnia like secrets she hid behind.
She let it be, truthfully, she wanted fo befriended him, but during these little adventures, she realised she had begun to neglect her book, the same book she had a deadline for, the same book she had been working on day and night, and now this puppy pops up and takes all her attention?
So what does she do? Simple, she starts to create some form of distance, leave before he'd be awake, come back home later too, also even if he did come to knock on her purple door, she wouldn't be there to answer it, so technically she wouldn't feel guilty right?
Wrong, instead God had punished her with a severe writer's block, one so bad that she had missed two of her deadlines, and according to her publisher, she was on her last chance. That's how she found herself at the very cafe where she would find solace, now on the verge of tears, staring at the laptop in pure agony, maybe this was payback for leaving him unattended and ignoring him or maybe she was never meant to be a writer.
A fresh cup of coffee was placed next to her hand, causing her to quickly pull back and look at the stranger, only her panicked eyes met a softer, more timid gaze, a gentle smile gracing her presence.
"Hey... you looked like you needed the juice." He smiled, gesturing towards the chair, as if asking for permission to sit down next to her, to which she nodded.
"I uh..." she paused. Should she even be asking him how he's been? Does she have the right to do so, or are they just neighbours- well, at this point, two strangers living across each other.
"I read your books by the way," he began, giving her a gentle smile, as he felt the way she had tensed up, honestly, initially he thought she was like that because his presence made her uncomfortable, but he soon realised it wasn't him, but she usually was this tensed all the time, this nervous and unsure, which made no sense to him because she was one of the most well functioning person he had met in the city, and he was glad to have moved in next to her, "It's great, the plotline is amazing and the details- you really captured the essence, I particularly liked the world you created, honestly, when I moved here I thought everyone wore those 'blockers' too. To not...feel stuff you know," he turned to look at her, only to catch her staring at him, a small chuckle escaping him when she cleared her throat, averting her gaze, "You were the only one who was nice enough to help me, even for the stupidest of tasks...it means a lot."
She stared at him in awe and disbelief. She had been trying to avoid him for almost a month now, couldn't he tell? Or was he just playing dumb- I mean he totally could be dumb, he didn't know a toaster comes with settings, just thought the numbers were there for the appeal.
After that the two began to "spend time together", it was strictly casual mind you, nothing personal, though he would drop by more often than usual, sometimes after work, sometimes on the weekends- to have dinner with her, he'd bring dessert, or to watch a movie with her, he'd bring the snacks- no, nothing domestic at all.
Or so they thought, because a few months in, he had come over by swinging the door open, yes he had the keys and she had his keys, only to find her standing there all dressed up.
"Where are you off to? What about movie night?"
"Oh no..." she gasped, "Yuyu, I forgot to tell you I had a date tonight." A date? Why? With whom?
"Wait, why?"
"What do you mean why?"
"Why would you go on a date when we- I mean...isn't it weird? Shouldn't you be more focused on your book, instead of this temporary romance?"
"Temporary romance?!"
"W-wait, I didn't mean it like that. It came out wrong-"
"Out."
"W-what?"
"I said get out!"
That happened a week ago, she had been avoiding him for a whole week, she had been ignoring his calls, his texts, his knocks- no he didn't barge into her apartment, it took him a great amount of time to get her to open up to him and he idiotically clowned himself. So he decided to go to the next thing, go to the official reading of her book launch.
He waited there at the back, listening to her intently, taking in each word, who knew he would ever fall in love with, her neighbour, the same girl who had helped with the dishwasher, brought him dinner at night, spent time teaching him the usual ropes of living alone- who knew the very same girl had changed the plot of the book, basing it on her life, expressing how the shy, depressed protagonist, who thought dying her hair purple would make her feel better, realised that the only thing that would make her feel better would be a companion, a tall, handsome man, with a heart of gold- it was not that she needed a man, no, she just needed a friend, and she had finally found one, the inspiration to her writer's block, the Chandler to her Monica, the- HE DIES!? 
He gasped, appalled at the way she had ended the story, where at the end, on his deathbed the man tells his beloved how she never needed him, but he needed her to function, to live through each day- bloody hell.
He waited for them to leave when he finally approached her, somewhat upset-no, he was very upset, as she stopped cleaning up to look at him, raising a questioning brow, "What?"
"I can't believe you!"
"Funny, Jeong, I should be the one saying that."
"What!? You killed me!?"
"What?"
"I come here to declare my undying love- no I come here to tell you how much you mean to me and apologise for never asking you out but getting upset when someone actually asked you out and you KILL ME IN YOUR NOVE?"
"First of all, I accept your apology, secondly, the protagonist was DEFINITELY NOT YOU, I made him up WAY BEFORE I met you."
"Oh..." he stared at her then looked around the almost empty bookshop, maybe he should just leave-
"So...Will you ask me out properly now or...'l"
"Move in with me."
"Too fast."
"Was worth a shot." He smiled when she let out a small laugh shaking her head at his antics, "Take me to dinner, Yunho." She smiled watching him lean closer then pause, as if asking for her permission,  "Can I...?" His question was answered when she gripped him by the lapels of his coat, pulling him closer to crash her lips against his, smiling when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling back only to press his forehead against hers,
"We move into my apartment..."
"What? Mine's great-"
"Yunho, have you seen the window and the balcony on mine?"
"Your apartment it is boss."
3) @jaehunnyy
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Choi San- Bestfriends to Lovers
Idiots, these two were complete idiots who were utterly in love with each other but were also too blind to realise that - why? Simple, because both feared that confessing to the other may ruin the long-held, deep bond.
A bond that had developed at the ripe age of childhood, middle school, to be more accurate. The day he had come to school, bored out of his mind, staring outside the window, wondering if he could jump on the closest tree to escape this prison. What he had not expected was an angel to come and sit beside him, well technically, the teacher had made her sit next to him, and he hadn't noticed her until she poked his shoulder lighter, causing him to jerk back and gasp, earning a few chuckles from the glass as the teacher just sighed in defeat.
"Wh-Hello."
"Do you need help with that?" She asked, pointing at the math equation in front of him. He looked at his notebook and remembered that's what they were supposed to me doing- damn that was a lot of daydreaming.
"Yeah, I guess...do you... know how to solve it?" He asked the new girl, too afraid to make eyecontact.
"Here, I'll show you." Turning to face him, she pulled his scribbled notebook closer.
"I'm San by the way."
That day onwards, a nice and quiet introvert at the back of the class finally began to crack open. From time to time, you'd hear him whispering to her, talking about some anime or a film. Often, he'd be telling her about his cat, Byeol, and how pretty she was. During break you wouldn't see San next to her for the first five minutes, no, he'd be sprinting across the campus,jumping down the stairs to go to the canteen to get her something to drink with her lunch, or a sweet snack, regardless of how many times she'd say 'it's fine.' During self study hours, she wouldn't be studying, no, she'd be busy tutoring her athletically gifted friend, he was...a little dumb, but that's okay, he was hardworking and she'd tell him she'd help him where he'd get stuck, explain and tutor where needed- especially in math.
As they grew older, he grew into his body, his self-esteem issues slowly subsiding, his feelings for her deepening, yet, never enough to tip the scale, at the bring of an edge but never enough to flow out he had to keep it all under control, because that's just how San was, patient and calm, he would never take a step if there was an ounce of the doubt when it came to how she felt about him. Though watching her spread her wings into the beauty she was, well, was somewhat problematic for him. Especially when she'd come to him, smiling like that, greeting him with the gentle voice of hers, asking him if he liked her haircut.
"What do you think?"
"It's...very nice."
"Just very nice?"
"You'd look pretty to me even if you were bald."
Conversations like these would have her heart hammering against her ribcage, and she'd pray to God that he couldn't hear it. She'd pray for it when he'd be walking home side by side, his shoulder bumping into hers, or his hand brushing against hers, when he'd take her bag from her, clicking his tongue at how heavy it would be,
"You trynna' build muscles like me?" He'd ask, though he was still very fragile, he'd only started going to the gym when he noticed how the 'basketball team captain', had decided to ask her to 'help tutor him too', though she had politely declined.
"Hmm? Of course not, Advanced Math books are just big like that..."
"Why do you do this to yourself, dove?" A nickname she had gained over the time, one used only by him.
"Because I wanna teach one day, I love teaching, I want to make sure people realise subjects aren't difficult or they aren't dumb, it's just that they're not taught properly."
Yup, he was smitten, on his knees, begging for her please ( he was also an idiot).
Ended up in college with her, though in a different major, like hell the now 'mountain of a man', no longer the kitten-like fragile boy, was going to major in math- business was a way better option.
This wasn't a bad situation, though they rarely had a few classes together, she'd still make time to see him, to text him as soon as class would end, but he'd already be standing at the exit, waiting for her with a coffee in hand and a dimpled smile, reserved just for her.
In no means was Choi San an extrovert, but somehow along the line he had met one, who later claimed that his MBTI had changed to an introvert too, though he doubted that notion- Jung Wooyoung.
Boistorous, noisy, obnoxious but a genuinely nice person at heart, Wooyoung was his companion in his major's classes, he was also the first person to know about San's little secret, since San trusted him enough to know, though Wooyoung assured him he had figured it out as soon as San introduced him to her as his "bestfriend".
"You're an idiot." Wooyoung snorted, taking off his shoes as he walked into the 4th years tiny apartment.
"What? Why?"
"You really think I didn't know?"
"How did you kno-'
"You can be bestfriends with a girl since childhood, unless a) one of you confessed to the other and got friendzoned but still chose friendship or b) neither of you confessed but are secretly crushing over the other."
"Wow, should've been a psychologist instead of a business major."
"What can I say, Sannie? I am a man of many talents."
Things progressed like this for a long time, Wooyoung watched from the sidelines how the two would basically act like a couple that was not a couple- almost everyone at campus thought they were a couple and Wooyoung was basically the third wheel. Not that he minded, and San appreciated him for that, he was glad Wooyoung's relationship with his dove was platonic- borderline sibling-like.
But Choi San was a fool, one that Choi San, at the fresh age of 25 wished that perhaps he'd be able to take the next steps, but something at the back of his mind held him back, were his personal desires as important as this friendship?
Which is why he stood there watching his best friend get ready for her date, her date with Wooyoung. After a conversation he did not like, but what could he say? He was too afraid to even confess, and well, Wooyoung wasn't a bad guy, and technically, he was his friend.
"I'm gonna ask her out, Sannie." The brunnet sighed, before taking a sip of his coffee, humming at the bitterness, perhaps this bitterness was sweeter than the bitter taste that had developed in San's mouth at the statement.
"W-why?" The bigger man with the fragile heart whispered.
"Because...I like her...I'm sorry but...I gave you time, so much of it and...I just wanted you to be the first one to know...if she says no, we'll all still be friends, but if she says yes...San, I won't hold back."
That had led to her first anniversary with Wooyoung, then the second and finally a day before their third anniversary San had texted the couple how he wouldn't be able to make it to their anniversary party because he had work that day and he wished them the best.
What he did not expect was someone knocking on his door at 2 am, opening the door to find a tear stained Wooyoung, only for him to punch the taller man in the face, watching him stumble backwards then wipe his eyes and sigh, "I swear- if you weren't such a great guy, I would've stabbed you."
"What the F*CK WOOYOUNG?"
That night was the first time he had seen Wooyoung cry, cry about how when she read the message she had become a mess, one that even Wooyoung couldn't fix, begging him for forgiveness how she made a mistake, how even though she was happy with Wooyoung, her heart belonged to someone else, someone who she thought she could move on from since he never confessed, since he never liked her back the way she did, and though the text was a confirmation of that, she couldn't bear lying to Wooyoung, to give him only half the love of what he deserved, knowing he deserved someone who would teach him the true meaning of love, because she was a teacher with only one student in mind, the idiot of a man- Choi San.
That night San couldn't sleep, not a wink, he processed the words over and over again, so did she like him? Should he confess to her? Now? Wouldn't that make it awkward? Or should he wait? Would that be a mistake?
Though his questions were answered in the morning when the doorbell rang at 7 am, making the sleepy man sigh as he stumbled to the door with blurry eyes, opening it still half asleep, only the slap he received woke sobered him up quickly,
"OW- WH- WHY ARE YOU JUST LIKE WOOYOUNG!?"
"SHUT UP! DONT TAKE HIS NAME! I HURT HIM BECAUSE OF YOU!" Never in the many years of knowing her, had she raised her voice like that.
"I-"
"NO! LISTEN TO ME!" She yelled before shoving him inside so she could continue yelling inside, "I like you- and you- you d*ck you could tell him you liked me but you couldn't tell me!? All those horrible dates you watched me go to, but you couldn't stop me?! You knew you liked me yet you let Woo ask me out!?"
"I- I didn't wanna ruin what we had..."
"San, I- what if I had married Woo? Huh? Then what? When you already had half my heart, I-"
She couldn't finish her sentence though, because the next thing she knew, he was smothering her with all that pent up love, his lips pressing against hers with a ferocity she had ever seen in her gentle Sannie, wanting to claim what he was too scared to touch before.
He only pulled back when she lightly pushed him back, gasping for air, looking up at him all flushed and pink, her swollen lips just enticing him even more,
"W-what was that?" She breathed out.
"Never say you're marrying anyone but me, I would've ruined the wedding even if it meant being thrown out."
"You're an idiot Sannie."
"No, I just had a teacher who could teach me math, but couldn't teach me how to love properly - guess she was learning too."
64 notes · View notes
verynastyspoon · 2 months ago
Text
Scout x Fem!reader pt 6
Summary: Scout shows off his girl
word count: 754
Warnings: A little smut
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º••º•º•
The next day you two wake up still holding each other. Scout’s back is bright red and sore, and your hips are thoroughly spent.
Scout looks at the time. “Shit doll I gotta go to work.”
You groan in disapproval.
“I know, I don’t wanna go either.” Scout starts rounding up his clothes that were spread out this the house through the night, till he gets to his pants. “Fuck they’re covered in cum! What the fuck am I supposed to wear?”
“I might have something.” You get up and look through your drawer. “Bad news. I have shorts but..” You hold up a pair of pink booty shorts.
“What!? I can’t wear those, the guys will laugh at me!”
“Well its either that or walk around with a huge cum stain.”
“Shit.”
Scout puts on the shorts and puts his pants in a bag. He kisses you goodbye and reluctantly drives to work. Scout pulls into the base’s parking lot and quickly runs in.
He tip toes around till he realizes he has to walk through the commons before getting to his room.
“Fuck.” He whispers to himself.
He decides he will run as fast as he can by everyone but before he can, Heavy walks out and sees him. “Ha! Da Scout is wearing letal gorl clothes!”
Everyone else rushed out to come see.
“Didnt know you where a cross dresser.” The Engineer says making everyone laugh.
“WHY ARE YOU WEARING GIRL CLOTHES YOU SISSY!” Soldier yells in his face.
“You know what fuck you guys. I happen to be wearing this because my girl cum got on the other!”
Everyone goes silent for a moment, before busting up laughing.
“Ya right pal.” Says Sniper not believing a word be says.
“You know what!” Scout pulls out the pants. “Look at this.”
“Letal boy probably just came in his pants!” Says Heavy, and everyone starts laughing again.
“You know what I’ll bring my girl by and fuck her in front of all of you.”
Medic whispers into spys ear. “I bet you 20 bucks he’s lying.”
“Fuck you guys im gonna call her right now.” Scout diales your number and put you on speaker.
“Hey babe whats up.”
“These assholes at my work don’t believe I have a sexy, beautiful, smart and funny girlfriend.” He glares at the team. “Can you come down so I can teach them a lesson.”
“Um ya I guess I can come. I’ll be there in 10.” You hang up the phone.
“Now i’m gonna go change my pants.” Scout storms out.
“I guess he does have a partner.” says medic
“I bet shes a pig.” Spy retorts. Everyone starts laughing and goes back to the commons.
A little while later you show up and Scout walks you to the rest of the team. “Hi i’m y/n.” You smile warmly.
Everyone’s jaw drops in awe at your beauty.
“See I told you bitches I had a girl. Now lets go to my room y/n i’m gonna make you scream my name.” He pulls you by the hand and takes you to his room.
All of the team are in disbelief.
“How did he get a Shelia like that?“ Sniper questions.
“Not a clue.” Says Enigeneer.
Back im Scouts room he is ripping off all your clothes at a surprising speed. “Are you sure about this, it’s kinda embarrassing.”
Scout removes his own clothes while speaking “Embarrassing? Baby this is the biggest flex I could ever have on these bozos. Now I want you to scream my name. Can you do that for me?
You sigh “Okay but the sex better be good.”
Scout nods and slips into your still prepped pussy. He quickly starts picking up the pace.
“Jeremy.” You moan softly.
“Louder.”
“Jeremy!”
“Louder!”
“JEREMY!”
“FUCK YES YOU’RE SO TIGHT!“
Some of the mercs try to busy themselves to not have to listen but it’s too loud, others listen intently, but they all have a boner.
After you two are done fucking Scout proudly walks your disheveled self out, showing everybody what hes done. “Goodbye y/n I love you.”
You wave him goodbye and drive off. Scout walks back to everyone with his head held high. “Showed you guys right!” Everyone tries to cover their erections. “You guys are disgusting!” They all look away embarrassed as Scout walks back to his room.
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º••º•º•
29 notes · View notes