#I think most of tumblr will fall in bottom half

[jeonqkooks]

our beloved summer | jjk (bonus track)

pairing: jungkook x f!reader

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

genre/warnings: established relationship, college au, need i remind you that most bonus tracks are flashbacks, fluff, smut; swearing, oral s*x (f. receiving, mentions of m. receiving), f*ngering, d*rty talk, public s*x, unprotected s*x (don't do it ffs), cre*mpie, i guess that's it, jesus christ why do i have to tag it like this god damn you tumblr

word count: 1.3k

series masterpost / main playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

“Do you have a kink for librarians?” you pant, giving his hair a sharp tug as he stuffs you full of his fingers, while his mouth alternates between kissing your clit and sucking it into his mouth. It’s like he’s trying to make out with you down there, for fuck’s sake.

“No,” you feel him smirk as he says this, his big doe eyes flitting up to your face to take in your blissfully fucked out expression, “just for you.” Then he closes his eyes again - as if that helps savor your taste better - and fully moans against your core like he’s the one on the receiving end of pleasure.

You arch against the bookshelf when Jungkook curls his fingers, bumping your g-spot with practiced precision as he tongues your clit. The sounds of him fingering you open, so goddamn wet, bounce off the walls and the books. You can’t believe you’re doing this in the fucking library! After hours, but still.

Oh, the both of you would be in so much trouble if anybody found out…

Then again, you’d be lying if you said the possibility of being caught didn’t make you just a tiny bit excited.

“Jungkook… nghhh, I’m gonna-”

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess?”

You nod fervently, bucking your hips against his face to chase your high. “Yes, yes, right ther–!”

You’re prepared for the wave to crash over you, to overwhelm your every sense, like lightning when it strikes.

But it never happens.

Jungkook pulls you back just as you’re about to tip over the edge, removing his fingers from you before he stands up with a cocky look on his face. The skirt you’re wearing falls down to cover your lower half again. Your mouth hangs open in shock, in frustration, and for a second there you burn with unfiltered hatred for him. You clench painfully around nothing, but before you can hiss at him, he’s crashing his lips against yours.

An involuntary moan slips from you when you taste yourself on his tongue. Jungkook works on undoing his belt as he kisses you, pulling down his boxers and trousers just enough to set his hard cock free. He breaks from the kiss to sneak his hands under your skirt, grabbing the back of your thighs and urging you to jump.

“Up,” he commands, and you obey. Your legs wrap around his waist, holding him closer until you feel the swollen head of his cock between your sodden folds. You whimper at the bare contact and so does he. “Put me in, baby,” he says huskily, squeezing your thighs while he leans forward to nibble on your earlobe.

You reach for his cock, giving it a few slow pumps and smearing his precum all over the length, before you guide it to your entrance. You let his tip tease you for a minute even though you were about to bite his head off only minutes ago from not letting you come, and your breath stutters when it kisses your clit deliciously.

“Oh god,” you pant when his cock finally makes its way into you. “Oh fuck, Jungkook…” He buries himself to the hilt, the base of his cock rubbing against your clit when he bottoms out, making the stretch feel infinitely better.

Your arms settle around his neck as he starts fucking you against the shelf, his hips rolling into you slowly at first, and then he’s picking up the pace, pounding you with purpose.

Forgive me, you think in apology to the books surrounding you, witnessing this unholy act unfold before them.

But it feels so good. It feels too good that you can’t help crying out his name with every thrust, his cock grazing your g-spot and pushing you toward the bliss that he previously denied you.

“Good girl,” he grunts, and the sound of his voice dropping low has you oozing with lust even more. The added slick allows him to fuck you better, his entire length pistoning into you, making the room echo with skin-slapping and your wet squelches. “Letting me do this to you in the fucking library. You like it, don’t you? You’re taking me so well, baby.”

“Shut up,” you manage to say while trying not to lose your goddamn mind over how wonderfully long and thick he feels inside of you. “S-stop running your mouth and make me come.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, but chuckles anyway. “Bossy,” he says, pecking your cheek sweetly like he isn’t about to make you cream all over him.

His hips momentarily pause so that he could adjust the grip he has on your thighs. He holds your body, firm against the shelf, and what happens next is anything but sweet.

When he moves again, he manages to be even faster than before somehow. His cock hits every single spot inside of you that paints stars behind your eyes, and the moon, and Saturn, and every glimmering indicator of light that adorns the galaxy.

His thrusts, deliberately hard, rattle the shelf for a second and it makes your heart fucking leap into your throat. You yelp, and hold him tighter, but he never falters. Jungkook fucks you like he’s got something to prove, and it’s not until the giant wooden structure you’re propped against stops protesting that you can calm down.

“I’m gonna come… Jungk–” you cry, your desperate cunt clenching around him. You actually do cry, but you don’t realize it until the single tear has already rolled down to your jaw and detaches itself from your skin.

“Yeah?” he asks, hopeful. “Look at me.”

You force your eyes open despite how difficult it is. You always try, for him.

Warmth spreads over your chest when you find him gazing at you with a tenderness that would make your knees wobble if you were standing. This time, you burn with unfiltered devotion.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” he says. “I love you.”

You grip his shoulders but let yourself fall over the edge. You come hard around him as his name slips from your lips in a drawn-out moan. You feel your release soaking his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm, prolonging the bliss for you until he has to chase his own high too.

You pull him in for a kiss, mumbling against his mouth, “Love you. I love you. I love you.”

And then he’s coming, whining against your lips as his hips stutter. Hot ropes of his cum splatter across your walls endlessly, making you tingle all over.

He pulls out and sets you down on unsteady legs once he’s empty, and you immediately cringe from the feeling of your combined release dripping out of you. Jungkook goes to grab some tissues and your panties from the floor. With gentle hands, he helps clean up the both of you, and finishes you off with a soft kiss.

You look at each other when he pulls away, his hand lingering on your waist as you adjust your panties into place. Then you both burst out in a fit of giggles.

“I can’t believe we just did that!” you exclaim, pressing your body to his once again to hide your flushed face in the crook of his neck. “You seduced me,” you accuse with affection.

“You wore that skirt!” he says in defense, and you feel the rumble of laughter that reverberates from his chest. “Besides, don’t act like you weren’t getting all sloppy on me just a couple weeks ago, right by the philosophy shelves.”

You rear your head back to glare at him, punching him in the chest even as you say, “Fuck off.” But it’s light, and completely endeared. It’s uttered with a fondness that he knows how to translate.

Fuck off means I love you.

Shut up means I love you.

I hate you means I love you.

Jungkook shrugs, then squeezes you into his side. A bunny smile peaks through, giving way to shallow dimples that dig into his cheeks cutely. “Let’s go home,” he says. “I got you that tiramisu you like.”

all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 17.05.2023]

[rainydaylately]

❥ 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

About & Author’s note ❥ coworkers to freak workers, smut. gender neutral reader. lifeweaver is a bottom tongue emoji. I’ve had this fic done for like ever and have a more on the way omg its so fun 2 be back on tumblr :3. Request page soon!

Word Count: 3210+

Lively with soft warm lights, the bar was filled with a gentle chatter as the night had weaned into the early hours of the morning. Though it felt as time had never passed despite the arms of the clock outstretched themselves with each passing hour. With Niran, time seemed to stop with every story that was told.

It had finally been a moment of rest from the longing missions that you had endured. The main issue with this particular mission was the time span. Believing it would take no more than a few days, though complications arose which stretched into a few weeks. Not ideal having to lay low, paranoia and anxiety bubbling in. A feeling that always lingered like fingertips brushing onto your shoulder. It was never in a comforting way, the only comfort was Niran keeping his eye on you. Making sure to pull you away from any slip ups.

You were grateful for that, watching your back as you watched him. An eye for an eye even, perfectly balanced.

Although now was not the time to be caught up with the stress from the mission, it was the time to celebrate. Finally a moment of relaxation with your favorite coworker. Oftentimes you were scheduled for training with Niran. The captain had noticed the way you two perfectly meshed with one another, pairing you up on missions before and the most current mission proved how well you two are with one another. Growing a friendship outside of the work field.

“I’m sure it’s crooked from the fall, but I’m far beyond recovery now,” Niran finishes telling another one of his stories. God knows how long you two have been sitting at the bar, becoming tipsy and giggly whilst sharing any and every story that came to mind.

You try and pick out any detail that would give away any sort of interpretation that Niran had broken his nose, squinting your eyes at the bridge of his nose. Yet, the interpretation was incorrect. Not a single sign of crookedness.

“I can’t seem to find anything,” you reply, “still perfect as ever.” Half mumbling before taking a sip of your drink. Niran watched the way your soft lips press against the glass before speaking up.

“Oh you think I’m perfect,” with a smile he cheekily inquired.

Rolling your eyes you turn your head, “you’re putting words in my mouth.”

“Is that the only thing you want?”

Dumbfounded and puzzled, you raise your brow to Niran, as if to ask if he really just said that. He starts laughing as you shake your head. Assuring you it was just a playful joke and you laugh. Again, he stares at your lips as you take another sip of your drink. Gentle eyes shifting from your lips, the cup, and back at you.

Niran kept his eyes on you, dark and captivating. Luring you into the abyss of lust with the way he pressed his lips against yours. Innocent at first, before feeling his teeth sinking onto your bottom lip. Tiny indents were left on the plush of your bottom lip, carefully tracing it as he pulled away.

Your coworker only stared, eyes half lidded.

“You smell like roses,” stating as your mind began to clog, wanting to be enveloped into his scent once more.

“Thank you, it’s bath and body works,” Niran replies and you giggle. Delicate fingers began to trace the hand that rested on the bar counter. Forgetting that you were in public, you wanted to drag Niran out into the night. You intertwine your hand with his, eyes shifting to the door.

Standing up, you begin to lead Niran out the door.

“Where are we going?” The taller agent asks.

“My apartment.”

“Eager aren’t you,” Niran chuckles as you use the street lights as a guide. It had been hours since you too had been in the bar, chatting and laughing with the growing mix of desire between you too. Your hand began to shake for what was in store for tonight, you prayed to whatever was above the Earth that Niran wouldn’t say anything. Teasing you for it would make the problem worse. You were determined to make it home within the next few minutes.

Down the block and taking a few turns, you had finally reached the entrance of your apartment. Climbing up the stairs, Niran looked around his surroundings as you jingle your keys. Finally opening the door, you sighed in relief as you stepped in.

Immediately upon entering, Niran removes his shoes. Placing them in a shelf dedicated for shoes next to the door. You smiled at his little act.

“It’s a lovely home,” he looks down the hallway of your bedroom, “hopefully we don’t rough it up too much.”

Niran follows you into your room, and immediately after shutting the door his lips are on you once more. Though with more passion, more hunger, more desire. Quickly you pull away for a slight gasp of air before diving back in the waves that submerged once stepping.

His hands tangled within your hair, taking more of you and Niran began to explore your mouth. The aftertaste of the drinks from earlier lingered on his tongue, yet still he tasted of fresh mint. Pulling you closer, your hands searched for something to grab on to stop the shakiness. Fingertips trailed his arms, arms then entangled around his shoulders like tree roots. You were lost with him tasting you, dozing into the euphoria. It was interrupted with the need of a breath of air. Pulling away, the string of saliva connects you too.

Stepping back at the slight mess, Niran leads you to your bed. Pushing you down on your own sheets and his lips are on you once more. The warmth of his tongue trails down your neck with his hands gently stream against your body. He treated you like the most delicate flower, observing to see what touches caused what reaction. Finding the sweet spot against the side of your neck, he began to leave bruised hickey marks. Gently sinking his teeth in the flesh as you gasped, you felt his lips smile against his skin.

Niran loved every second of this light teasing, just beginning to hear your quiet gasps and breaths made him crave you more. Though he was taken by surprise as he went from looking down at you in the cushions to seeing you above him, the warm lamp carving your face. Shadows adding accents to your features.

“This is a surprise,” He exclaims as he was slightly out of breath from attacking your neck.

“I wanted to give you the same treatment,” you admit, hovering over him to not slam yourself on him. You steady yourself.

“I didn’t know you’d have it in you,” you raised an eyebrow, “you know, the boldness-“

Mid sentence, you finally sit down on Niran’s lap. Shifting to sit comfortably as you plant your hands on his chest, carefully urging him to lay back. He doesn’t oblige, in fact a moan stifled out of his soft lips as he felt the pressure build up in his pants with your shifting.

“But, I won’t mind this,” he steadied his breathing as you began to unbutton his shirt. Niran’s body was hot, an opposition to the air around him. Goosebumps formed on his skin, your nail traces shapeless figures.

Warm lips are pressed against Niran’s cheek, another kiss is gently placed against his lips. Then dragging down to his neck as your hands traveled the rest of the half unbuttoned shirt. Still, your hands still quivered and Niran could feel it against his skin.

“Gorgeous,” he pulls you to look at him, chin in fingers, “You’re doing fine, trust me.”

Niran quickly discards his shirt and lays back down, hands on your waist to stabilize you. You closed your eyes and let out a sigh, calming yourself as you continued your treatment to the man beneath you.

His chest was firm yet soft, leaning back down you began to press delicate kisses on his chest. Painting him reds and purples that he would admire later, some bite marks accentuated his chest

You could feel his bulge through the fabric of your pants, being sat on his lap did not ease the pressure in Niran’s pants. And every delicate shift made him impatient, hot, and bothered. He sighs in relief as you gently get off of him whilst unbuttoning his pants, Niran helps tug the rest of his clothes off.

“Ah ah,” he says before fully removing his boxers, “I don’t think this is fair.”

He points to your fully clothed self, you scoff. Slipping your shirt off as he traced his hand from your neck to shoulder, gripping the skin as he leaned in for a passionate kiss. Each time he kissed you, you felt the feeling of desire dwell inside you. Planting itself and getting you drunk on the sensation.

Moving yourself back down, finally getting rid of that damned piece of clothing. As Niran’s cock springs out, angry and ready, you softly lick from base to tip. Leisurely, you began toying with Niran with agonizingly slow licks and kisses with enough care that flower petals lean into. Before Niran had the window of chance to even complain on what he would consider torture, you finally take him in your mouth. Easing yourself on his length with hollow cheeks. Using your lips to cover your bottom teeth, the feeling was delectable for Niran.

To experiment, you took the entirety of his cock, and Niran let out what you would consider to be the most angelic noise you have ever heard. But the heaven’s would turn away, not intruding on a moment like this.

A hand takes a fistful of your hair, gripping tightly and pushing you down. Teary eyed, you looked up at Niran with wet eyelashes as you bobbed your head. He watched the repeated motion. Up and down, up and down. Spit begins to dribble from your chin and onto him. His moans began to fill up the room and you mentally thank yourself for deciding to keep the windows closed.

Niran begins to twitch your mouth, you quickly take a break to catch a smidge of air. Just for a second as Niran whines, wide eyed you looked at him,

“Something wrong?” You asked. Niran looks at you, a frustrated expression as he furrows his eyebrows. Giggling, you return the warmth back to him, this time a hand begins to pump the base of his cock. The arch of Niran’s back causes him to roll himself up into you. Gagging, Niran tries to cover his moans with the back of his hand. Holding back to fuck himself into your mouth, yet he wanted you to take care of him. He loved it, he loved the velvet around his cock. Soft and warm as he continues to climb further into the edge. Moaning out your name as a warning, begging you to not stop. Just the way you’re doing it is more than perfect. With a few more sucks, he’s gone. Head falling back into your pillows. The smell of you on the pillows only turning him on more as he spills himself into your mouth. Eyes rolling back as the hand in your hair shakes. Breathing quickly with your name escaping his plush lips as he begins to settle down.

Pulling back, you wipe the corner of your mouth as you watch Niran catch his breath. Scooting up closer to him, watching how pretty he looked with his hair sprawled. Gently, his chest rose and fell.

“Are you okay?” Voice just above a whisper, you lightly touch his face. Carefully pulling him to look at you.

His response was leaning up and kissing you so tenderly, yet so desperately.

“So gorgeous,” again, slipping your voice out for only niran and the moon to hear. You watch as he comes down from high and pulls you in for a sensual kiss. Tongue slipping past wet lips and his fingertips entangle themselves into your hair. Tugging, he still wanted to feel you. To touch you and have you.

Pulling away, Niran looks at you with eyes that practically begged you to stay. Getting high off the after shock and neediness, he tried pulling you back down. Gently, you place his arm away from yours as you head to your nightstand.

“Be patient Niran, it’ll only take a second,” you assure the pretty man in your bed.

Laying on his side, those soft eyes look up to you. “A second too long when I could have you here now.”

“Oh hush,” you say as you stand, brushing some hair strands out of his face. Framing him delicately, Niran notices the strap you have ready. Sitting up with a smirk on his face, excited for what’s in store.

As you have the strap secured, Niran pulls you in for another kiss. Pulling you on top of him as your hand trails down between his legs. Although his skin was burning like hellfire, goosebumps of excitement lingered. Leaving a small kisses and bites across his neck, your finger begins to stretch him out. Easing gently, you treated him like the most delicate flower. It’s blooming a rarity and a beauty, and to have Niran laid in your bed, flushed and panting with just your fingers scissoring themselves inside of him would be just that.

Niran swallows his moans, not wanting to get too loud. You wanted him to let go, to beg for more.

“Please, [Name],” words delicately slip past his plush lips.

You gave him an innocent face. Tilting your head to play the dumbfounded role, you waited for his reaction.

“Don’t give me that face, you know what I want,” Niran is firm, growing impatient and it made you giggle.

“I’m not sure I do Niran, why don’t you tell me?” Lightly teasing, you try to edge an answer from him.

He grumbles something under his breath and you raise a brow. Feeling defeating, Niran finally gives you a proper response.

“I want you to fuck me,” finally stating with half lidded eyes. So eager and ready for you.

Steadying yourself, you place a hand next to him as you line yourself up with him. Pushing the head of the strap in before diving a few inches more. Stretching Niran out in a gentle way sends him arching with a whine escaping his lips as you begin to retract yourself. The second thrust added a bit more length, continuing this pattern as you almost bottomed out inside Niran.

“Don’t hold back,” Niran whispers, pulling you down so your forehead is pressed against him, “it already feels so good.”

Soft lips pressed against his cheek, his eyes rolled back as your length finally settled himself inside of him. Testing out a few thrusts to find the spot that would make him arch closer. He felt so warm against, trying to hold onto something. Niran reaches out for your arm, his own arm pulls you closer by your neck. Locking in deeply into his eyes as you began brushing his g spot. The whine he let out was as sweet as saccharin, you nuzzled into his neck whilst adding more bruises to his already painted throat. Pulling his leg around your waist, you could feel the heels of his feet press against your lower back. Enveloping himself around you. All niran could feel was you, all he could hear was you. He wanted to breathe you, touch you, taste you on his tongue until he could bear no more.

Niran was close by the way his cock was twitching, the heat allowed for a glazed layer of sweat. Adding a glowing look with the warm lights in your room.

“F-fuck [name],” barely, Niran could get the words out. Soon enough he spilled himself, legs shaking around you as his eyes rolled back, arching against you as you trail your hand on the small of his back to press him closer. Kissing his chest while Niran heaves. It was beautiful watching him so shaky, so sensitive on the skin that the slightest touches had him craving for more. As if you’d leave him to fend for himself.

Pulling back, you sat on your knees assuming that this would be the end of the night. Thinking of a nice warm shower against your skin, then cuddling up with Niran sounded wonderful. Niran noticed the small moment where you spaced out and took advantage.

Surprised, you were suddenly on your back and facing the ceiling. A shocked expression when you realized Niran had straddled himself on top of you, palms pressing your shoulders down. Practically stuck beneath him, but you didn’t mind. Strands of hair clung to his face, sweaty yet flushed he was still eager for you.

Leaning down, Niran plants down your neck. Hitting a certain spot that made your breath hitch. His large hands trail against your. Caressing and trailing against your chest and explore it your torso. He liked the way your body reacted to his touches. All the while as he sank himself on your length. Bottoming out once more with a light moan. Still sensitive from his two previous orgasms, Niran shakily rolls his hips. Noticing the stuttering, you place both hands on his hips to guide him. Forward and back as tears begin to brew in the corners of his eyes. Overstimulation tasted so good for niran, despite his muscles aching he wanted more.

“You’re taking me so well Niran, your such a good boy,” you praised his efforts and he moaned.

Niran was lost in pleasure, head rolled back as he fucked himself on you to his hearts delight. The noises he made left you in awe, he sounded so angelic with the way your hips met with him. Hitting Niran in all the rights spots was driving him mad. Drool began to dribble from his mouth as he was getting drunk off of the pleasure. At this point he couldn’t even remember his name, all he wanted was to reach the high from you and you only. And for the third time, Niran had cummed with your name gracefully leaving his lips.

Practically collapsing, you held Niran as he shakily breathed in your arms. Stroking his hair and kissing his temples, you admired the way he nuzzled himself closer into you.

Quickly taking the harness and strap off, you lay back as Niran layed half-lidded in your chest. His breath finally stabilized, sleep was just a hand welcoming him and he gladly took it. The embers of the lights carved the shadows of his face so perfectly. Angelic, you couldn’t help but stare.

“I can feel you staring again,” Niran barely mutters out.

“I mean, the view is a beautiful one,” you reply whilst tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

Niran hums, “and you’ve gotten plenty, but please rest with me now.

Agreeing, you relax to his hands trailing your sides. You figured he fell asleep after the movement faltered, and slowly the burning sensation of tired eyes had finally hit. Looking out the window, moonlight added a new perspective to the beauty with you

[ssa-montgomery]

we're slaves to any semblance of touch

Part 2

Word Count: 8891

Summary: Y/N and Daryl have been pining after each other for weeks and when Maggie finally urges Y/N to make her move, she and Daryl end up alone for the first time. Daryl is more than happy to help Y/N lose her virginity.

Characters: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader, Maggie Rhee

Warnings: Swearing, mutual pining, loss of virginity, smut, oral sex, blow jobs, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, slight innocence kink, unprotected sex

A/N: This fic was requested here on Tumblr by @azanoni using my prompt list and I had so much fun working on this one! I'm a sucker for prison-era Daryl so I knew the prison had to be the setting for this one and I just loved this request! Please feel free to send me any requests you might have for Daryl fics :)

Prompt(s): "Show me how you like to be touched." "Is this your first time?" "I don't know what to do." "Let me teach you."

Feedback is what motivates me to work so please let me know what you think! Reblogs are also greatly appreciated.

Taglist is open!

Masterlist

By now you were really starting to question what exactly you'd done for the Georgian sun to this level of a personal grievance against you. You used the bottom of your top to twist the cap off your second water bottle of the hour, your hands too soaked with sweat to get a proper grip on it. It had finally reached that point in the middle of summer when everything was unbearable, even the metal railing of the watch tower was burning against your skin as you leaned forward on it. You thought maybe on the ground below it wouldn't be half as bad but you and Maggie and the unfortunate luck of drawing the first watch duty today. You stuck to the walkway surrounding the tower, trying as much as possible to avoid the tiny concrete sauna that was the watch tower's main room. Even out there it didn't seem to help with the humidity in the air.

Though you did have to admit, even if the heat was choking you there was always one positive to taking the watch shift - the view. The view from the tower covered most of the prison and for miles into the forest that surrounded it beyond the fence, giving you the perfect view of everyone going about their own jobs below you. 

Carol, ever the worrying mother figure to the group was making her rounds with water and food, making sure to get drinks to the people that would otherwise forget and collapse of dehydration in this heat. Further across the prison, you could see Rick tending to the fields that had been established for a more steady source of food with Carl doing his best to help. Beth sat near them, Judith playing in her lap as she watched her dad and brother work with a curious expression. As you scanned across the prison finally, your eyes fell on him.

Daryl as per usual was tucked away in his own corner of the prison, hiding away from the chatter and noise of everyone else. He was on his knees, shifting to sit back on his heels as he examined something on the old motorbike in front of him. One of the old prison toolboxes sat next to him as he searched around inside the now open side of the engine. Even from here, you could see the black streaks of greasy motor oil coating his fingers as he work them over the mechanics of the inside of the engine, holding one of the tools in his teeth while both of his hands were busy.

You couldn't pull your eyes away from the way he worked with his hands, the sweat shining on his skin where it clung to his arms and the back of his neck. There was something about the way his muscles moved under his skin while he loosened the parts with the wrench that made your skin flush with heat in an entirely different way to the harsh rays of the sun, your cheeks now burning warmer than before.

"You're starin'." The sing-song tone of Maggie's teasing voice rang out as she leaned in over your shoulder to follow your line of sight. You spun around, ripping your eyes away from Daryl no matter how much you wished you could keep watching, practically falling over yourself as you did. The rifle over your shoulder clattered against the railing as you finally steadied yourself only to be met with Maggie's grin. 

Maggie was one of your closest friends at the prison and your days on duty together like this often turned into gossip sessions for the pair of you. She was the one person you told everything to, including when you'd started to develop a crush on the tracker she'd just caught you trying to undress with your eyes.

"I'm not starin', I'm just- admirin' from a distance." Your weak excuse of a defence crumbled under one knowing look from Maggie as she tilted her head to one side, raising an eyebrow at you. Okay so maybe you were staring, maybe you did stare at him at any chance you got. Maybe you did stare at just how skilled his hands were working with his crossbow, easily manipulating it in his hands while he cleaned it or the rare, soft, loving look he got on his face whenever he was around Judith.  It didn't matter to you, as long as you were looking at him in some way nothing mattered to you. It was like everything else fell away around you. "Well, maybe I'm starin' a little."

"So you still ain't found the nerve to talk to him 'bout your feelings yet then?" Maggie asked looking at you curiously as she leaned against the wall opposite you. You could see the way she kept the perimeter of the prison in her line of sight at all times, even while you talked.

"Who says I haven't?" You brought your hand up over your heart, a fake offended gasp falling from your lips as you laughed at how obvious it was that you were still very much hiding your crush.

"You mean besides the quite frankly sad puppy dog pining?" You could always rely on Maggie to call you out on your bullshit when you needed her to. You scoffed at her blunt way of phrasing it as she laughed at you but she was right, you knew that. The pining truly had reached a whole new level. "I mean come on, everyone can see it. And with someone as observant as Daryl? He's an idiot if he hasn't already figured out your feelings for him."

At this point, you were certain Daryl already knew about your feelings for him. What was going on between the two of you was - complicated, to say the least. Maybe even more complicated than you'd let on to Maggie. You were confident it wasn't one-sided, Daryl having nearly straight out told you as much when you joked about the possibility of you having a crush on him. You could feel his eyes on you around the prison almost as much as you stared at him but things at the prison had been chaotic. Trying to establish a new community here had its own challenges and adding a relationship to the mix would have just complicated things for both of you. 

Now though, things were starting to settle, day-to-day life becoming smoother and maybe it was finally time to see if your gut feeling that Daryl wanted this just as much as you was right.

"I just - I'm nervous is all. You know I don't have much experience in certain areas Maggie, or well any experience and I don't know how to bring that up with him. It's not a conversation I've had to have with someone I really care about before." You sighed, shifting your hands nervously as you thought about it. You were willing to admit that your thoughts about Daryl more often than not turned inappropriate and you wanted nothing more than to act on them with him. Unfortunately, your experience with anything in that area stopped at a sad excuse for a messy make-out session with an asshole of an ex-boyfriend in your teen years. You didn't want to scare Daryl off if he thought your lack of practice would ruin the experience.

"I've seen the way he looks at you Y/N, given the chance that man would fall to his knees and worship the very ground you walk on. He ain't gonna care about your experience level as long as you're learnin' with him." Maggie said then, her tone serious as she gave you a reassuring look, her hand resting on your arm. Maybe she was right, you'd waited so long now that maybe it was time to stop worrying and just do something about your feelings.

"I guess the thing now is finding the time to talk to him alone with how busy we've all been lately." In the past few weeks, everyone's focus had been on turning the prison into a livable space for the group which had proved to be a challenge. When you weren't helping to clear the cell blocks you were on watch and on the rare few times you did have a day to yourself Daryl was away on runs. The most one-on-one time you'd managed to have with Daryl was during watch duty like this.

"Now correct me if I'm wrong but, he seems pretty alone down there right now." Maggie seemingly caught the nervous look on your face as you looked down at him again, torn between wanting to run straight to him and your duty to your job. Who knew when you might get another chance like this. "Just go for it, don't worry 'bout keepin' watch. I'll call Glenn, and tell Rick we wanted the time alone if he asks 'bout it. Don't waste any more time thinkin' 'bout it." 

"Thank you, Maggie, I really do appreciate this." You felt more excited than you had in a very long time as the possibilities ran through your mind. You gave Maggie a bright smile as you pulled her into a quick, tight hug before rushing to disappear down the ladder of the watch tower. You weren't going to wait for a second more.

~~~

"Whatcha doin' out here?" You asked peeking over Daryl's shoulder at the engine as you walked up behind him, your shadow towering over him as for once you were the one standing taller in your exchange. His eyes snapped up to you standing over him where he still knelt on the ground, dropping the wrench he'd been holding between his teeth. You could see the surprise on his face at your sudden presence behind him, not expecting to see you all day when he knew you were on watch duty. You let out a slight giggle at his reaction, not used to seeing him actually surprised. "Just me didn't mean to spook you."

"Nah. Ya didn't spook me." He said with an almost embarrassed shake of his head, his hair falling into his face to hide his piercing eyes. Your hand twitched at your side as you fought back the urge to reach out and brush his hair back out of his face. "Just ain't expecting anyone out 'ere is all. Pretty sure I burned out the brake pads on the last run. See that? Ain't supposed to be like that." 

You dropped your rifle down next to Daryl's crossbow and took a seat on the ground next to him, the concrete warming the skin of your legs. You leaned in as close as you could, your shoulders touching as your gaze followed his finger to where he was pointing at some exposed part of the bike. You let out a hum and nodded your head as he leaned in and started to work on pulling the piece loose. You pretended you knew what was happening just to continue watching him work with his hands, seeing each delicate touch this close up when in reality none of his bike talk made any sense to you.

"Gonna have to take her apart and replace the belt most likely." Daryl sighed, wiping his hands on his already filthy jeans as he sat back, propping one arm up on his knee. His arm brushed against yours as he moved and you sucked in a harsh breath at the contact. "A project for another day. Ain't gonna be able to do it without some scavenged parts so I gotta wait till the next run now."

There was a beat of silence as you both enjoyed the company. Daryl sat down fully on the ground, resting on his elbows as he stretched out, his legs spanning out in front of him until he was practically lying down. You watched the way his head tipped back, his eyes closing as he took in the heat of the sun on his face. His body was already covered in a thin layer of sweat, his hair sticking to the nape of his neck while his hands were coated in motor oil practically up to the wrists. 

There was something about him like this, messy and so involved in something he was passionate about that made him so attractive to you. Even when you had no idea what he was talking about you could listen to him talk all day, that deep southern accent commanding every ounce of your attention. It was rare for him to hold a conversation he was truly interested in so you savoured every single one.

"Have you been out here all day? Why don't we head inside for a bit? It would do us both some good to get out of the sun for a while and wash up before you end up with heatstroke."  You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as you realised what you'd just said, the suggestion slipping out before you could even think. Part of you was still nervous you'd the read whole situation wrong as you waited for an answer, Daryl watching you curiously. What if he really wasn't interested in you like this and you scared him off for good?

"Sure, yeah. Good idea." He nodded much to your relief and pushed himself up from the ground, rolling out his neck muscles that had grown stiff from being bent over the engine all morning he did. The movement gave you the perfect view of his muscles tensing all the way down to his shoulders and back, your eyes following them until he turned around to face you again. You tried to look away but it was too late, Daryl catching you staring directly at you. You could have sworn you saw the slight tug of a smirk at the corner of his mouth as he reached a hand out to you, grabbing your wrist to pull you up from the ground. He glanced down at your wrist and winced at the ring of oil he'd left on your skin where his fingers had been wrapped around you. "Shit sorry. Guess I really should get washed up." 

"Don't worry 'bout it." You reassured him, your fingers absentmindedly tracing where he touched you. In reality, it felt like the oil would burst into flames at any second with how your skin burned from even the simplest of touches for him. It really was time to admit you were down bad for this man. "C'mon then."

There was a look of confusion on Daryl's face as he watched you grab your gun and walk away from the entrance to the central cell block that everyone used as living quarters. Your nerves were growing, almost stripping you of your confidence as you tried to figure out a way to explain your choice without entirely clueing Daryl into your plan. 

"On a hot day like this everyone's gonna want to wash up, the queues for the washroom in there are gonna be long, the other cell block is still mostly unused and the water system works just as well." You shrugged as casually as you could, gesturing towards the other building. 

There was a flash in Daryl's eyes as you turned away from him, your hips swaying more than usual as you made your way towards the door. It was as if he realised your plan at the mention of an empty building to yourselves on the one day you skipped out on your work to give you the time alone you needed. He didn't say anything, instead nodding at you as he grabbed his crossbow and moved to catch up to you.

You could feel your heart beating against your ribs almost hard enough to break free as you walked, Daryl's low strides quickly catching him until his steps fell in time with yours. Neither of you said anything as you walked, both of your minds racing with the idea of what could possibly happen when you were finally alone together. 

You were the first to push open the door to the cell block to find you were right, it was entirely empty, your footsteps echoing off the high ceiling. Unlike the other cell block, this one had only recently been cleared for use and people who were already settled in the other building hadn't bothered to move their stuff out there yet leaving the two of you completely alone.

"See? Told you we could skip the lines." You laughed, hoping your playful tone masked the nerves bubbling just below the surface. Your plan was more spur of the moment and as a result, was far from well thought out. Sure you finally had Daryl alone but you had no idea how to go about outright asking him for what you wanted or how to get him to make the first move on you.

"Clever girl." His eyes seemed to trace a path down your body as he spoke, no longer trying to hide the way he let his gaze linger on certain parts of your body a little longer. The sound of the praise coming from him had that blush threatening to creep back up on your cheeks. Something in the air had changed, it was no longer heavy with humidity but instead with a tension between you that could have been sliced with a knife.

You slipped your gun back off your shoulder and left it on the table in the main entrance hall along with the belt holster you'd become so fond of and it was shortly followed by the sound of Daryl's crossbow clattering down next to them. You turned to head down the hall towards the washroom, genuinely looking forward to cleaning the heat of the day off your skin even if this was all part of your plan. You had expected Daryl to wait in the hall until you were done so he could take his turn but instead to your surprise, he followed you down the hall and into the washroom. 

There wasn't a word exchanged between the two of you as you cleaned yourselves up, a tension filling the air that you both seemed unwilling to break just yet. You slowly cleaned the oil from your wrist, the action more of a second thought as your focus stayed on the mirror in front of you. In its reflection, you could see Daryl running his hands under the water, carefully rubbing away the oil on his skin. He dipped his head down and splashed his face with the running water, washing away the oil he'd managed to smear over his brow. You copied his movements, the cold water admittedly feeling amazing against your face.

The final part of your plan clicked in your mind at that moment, this was your chance if you were ever going to get one. If you were being honest the front of your tank top was admittedly filthy. Your morning started with helping Carol collect the ingredients for breakfast from the fields in the front of the prison and the dirt was still caked into the material of your top. In a split-second decision, you were sliding the top off over your head before you could back out, leaving you standing in only your grey sports bra.

Your hands practically shook as you dipped the top under the running water and tried to rub away the dirt. You weren't sure that Daryl was even looking, his back still towards you as you took one final look in the mirror before turning your attention to cleaning your top. You thought you might actually forget how to breathe if you let yourself think about what you were doing too much but it didn't take long to get your answer.

Daryl's fingertips were still cold from the water as they met your back, the feeling a strong contrast against your warm skin. He was standing directly behind you now, his movements nervous, as if he was still afraid of reading the situation wrong but he was playing into exactly what you wanted. His fingers traced a path down your spine, starting at the bottom of your neck and coming to a stop just above the waistband of your shorts.

"Is this alrigh'?" He asked, his voice rough and uneven, already becoming laced with lust but needing your reassurance before he went any further. He needed to hear you say this was what you wanted. You turned around to face him, his hands falling to the rim of the sink as he trapped you between it and his chest. Your breathing was becoming laboured already, your cheeks turning red with the heat that was now burning through your veins. At that moment you had never been more certain of anything in your life.

"Daryl, I didn't invite you out to the only empty building around for no reason." You laughed, the sound light and sweet to his ears as you basked in the feeling of this finally happening. Sure you'd know for a while this wasn't one-sided but to have Daryl confirm it felt surreal, part of you thought you were dreaming this entire thing. You reached out a hand and let it gently rest on his chest right over his heart, feeling it beat against your palm as it picked up speed. This wasn't a dream, this was very real. "I've been thinking about this for a long time. I want this."

That was all the invitation Daryl needed as he brought one hand up to cover yours, lacing your fingers together as he leaned in, his lips finally, finally meeting yours. The kiss was softer than you'd expected, slower. His lips moved carefully over yours as he took his time, learning how your body melted against his, the way you moved as your lips started to match his movements. It had been a long time since you'd kissed anyone and you were admittedly out of practice but there was something about Daryl, about the way his hands fit so perfectly around your waist that calmed your nerves and made everything flow more naturally.

"You were really plannin' this the whole time?" Daryl smirked against your lips, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. You squirmed under his stare, feeling overwhelmed by just how much power he had over you already. "You didn't give a damn 'bout my bike, did ya?"

"Daryl you are so incredibly sweet when you talk about what you're passionate about. I could listen to you all day." You sighed finally giving into the urge and reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes as you smiled sweetly at him. "But I have no fucking clue what you're talking about when it comes to that bike."

Daryl let out a laugh at that, a genuine, loud laugh that you'd never heard from him before. The sound made your heart skip a beat, it was like music to your ears, your smile lighting up your whole face as you watched him. There was something about seeing him like this, the side of him that no one else got to see, the side that was for you and you only that made you curious about what else he had to show you. That needy feeling was starting to take over again as you took both his hands in yours and slowly started to walk towards the washroom door, leading him behind you.

"You think these cells are still as intact as ours?" You asked, your voice still managing to hold that hint of innocence despite the intentions that question so obviously held. Daryl happily followed you out into the main cell block before taking the lead, pulling you into a small cell further down the first row. The cell was cleaner than you expected, the bed was still made with a soft blanket and there was a gas-light lamp sitting on the desk giving the room a surprisingly cosy feeling. You looked around the room and slowly started to recognise the clothes scattered around as Daryl's

"Sometimes I need space to myself." He shrugged as he caught the look of recognition on your face. He dropped down onto the bed and spread his legs apart, pulling you in by the waist until you were standing between them. "You ain't the only one with yer eye on this cell block. Been wantin' to take ya up here for a while."

Daryl slid his fingers into the belt loops of your shorts and pulled you even closer until you were pressed against him, chest to chest. You made the move this time, leaning in to kiss him slowly as you melted into his touch. His hands found your hips and gently squeezed before starting to slide downwards, exploring every curve of your body. You couldn't believe you weren't the only one who'd been thinking about this. You grew needier the more you thought about Daryl fantasising about bringing you out here and who knows what else he'd thought about doing with you.

He pulled away from the kiss and took in the sight of you standing in front of him in nothing but your bra, his hands running up your bare sides as he did. His touch was gentle against your skin, almost curious, exploring as he took note of every reaction and sound he drew from you. You let out a soft sigh as his hands trailed down to grab at the back of your thighs and he took the opportunity to pull you into another kiss, sliding his tongue into your open mouth. 

His hands were so close to where you needed them now and all you could think about was how much you wanted him to touch you properly, to relieve some of the pressure between your legs that was now becoming unbearable. Instead, he took his hands off you earning a disappointed whine as he leaned back on his hands on the bed, tilting his head to the side as he watched you closely.

"Show me how ya like to be touched. Wanna treat ya right." He said then, his voice holding that commanding tone that made you weak at the knees. You could feel the flush settling over your chest, creeping up into your face and betraying your false confidence as he placed all the focus on you. It wasn't that you were completely inexperienced with pleasure. You'd touched yourself before, admittedly mostly to the thought of Daryl but that was different. Those times you were focused on the end goal, there was none of the teasing or neediness you wanted from Daryl. You wanted him to touch you like you were the only thing he cared about in the world. 

"I uh -" You stuttered over your words, trying to find the best way to voice your thoughts to Daryl but the words seemed to die in your throat. You could feel the embarrassment you'd feared clawing its way up into your chest as you watched the expression on Daryl's face change. He seemed to have pieced it together but his look was more curious than it was judgemental.

"Is this yer first time?" He asked, his voice soft and quiet as he wrapped his arms around your waist. His thumb traced across your side trying to ease your anxiety as he waited for an answer.

"I hope that's not a turn-off." You chuckled nervously, turning your face away from his gaze as you admitted the truth. Admittedly it did make you feel better to finally have it out in the open and Daryl didn't seem as affected by the news as you'd expected. 

"There ain't nuthin' you could do or say that's gonna be a turn-off. Been wantin' ya too damn bad for anythin' to change that." Daryl reassured you, pressing a kiss to the centre of your chest. You could feel your anxiety melting away at his words and the way his lips felt against your skin. The scruff of his beard tickled your skin as he tilted his face up to meet your gaze, the surprising softness in his steel eyes almost taking your breath away. His lips moved over your collarbone pressing gentle kisses there. "I'll take care of ya, be gentle with ya, I promise."

 "I trust you." You nodded knowing he meant every word of it.  You'd never trusted anyone in the way you trusted Daryl. Your hands fell to the back of his neck, running through the hair there before lightly pulling. You loved the new shaggy look he had as he grew his hair out longer, it suited him nicely you thought. Daryl tugged on your waist, pulling you down to straddle his lap before his hands glided up your back, meeting the edge of your sports bra. You got the hint as he snapped the elastic against your skin and leaned back, giving him the space to pull the material up over your head.

You could practically feel the path his eyes burned across your skin as he took in the slight of your now entirely bare chest. His touch returned to your chest, his calloused hands gently kneading at your breasts. You whined out at the feeling of finally having Daryl touching you like this as his palms rolled over your sensitive nipples. His own eyes were heavy with lust as he stared at the way your breasts looked under his hands, enjoying the feeling of your warm skin under his touch.

"You look fuckin' incredible like this Doll," Daryl mumbled against your skin as his lips found their way to your neck, moving across the front of your throat. The words seemed to tumble from his mouth before he even really thought about them and the rare praise from him had you rolling your hips against him, your body searching for any friction it could get. Your reaction spurred him on as he realised how much you loved the praise. "Best tits I've ever seen."

"Daryl." You tried to hold onto enough of your decency to still at least sound embarrassed by the way he was talking but his name sounded more like a moan on your lips. You didn't want to admit how much his words affected you but the way your hips started to grind against your control showed it. His lips left a trail of red blotches across your skin in their wake as his blunt nails dragged down your back, marking you as his.

"I mean it. Every word. Could spend all day worshippin' this perfect fuckin' body. Got an ass to die for too." His hands roamed lower down your back until he grabbed at your ass, using his grip to pull you closer to him. You collapsed into his chest, your arms winding around his neck as you pulled him into a needy kiss. He squeezed at your ass, making your hips roll forward again and with this new position you could feel his erection straining against his pants underneath you.

His need was growing with each kiss, his lips growing rougher, messier against yours with each kiss becoming all teeth and tongue. You needed more, needed everything you'd been daydreaming about with him. You had a hundred fantasies running through your head and even if you were unsure what you were doing you wanted to learn, with him.

The kiss broke as you shifted further back in his lap, his mouth chasing yours as you pulled away with a teasing look on your face. You glanced down at his lap as your hands finally found his belt. Daryl let out a soft groan as you played with the leather material before you started to thread it through the buckle, sinking off his lap and onto the ground between his thighs. As he pieced together what you were trying to do he caught your wrist then, urging you back up.

"You don't gotta do that, not yer first time."  You smiled up at Daryl through your lashes, giving him the sweetest look. It truly was heartwarming how willing he was to put the full attention of this moment on you but you'd been dreaming about what it would be like to go down on him for weeks now. 

"I know but I wanna." You reassured him, kissing the inside of his wrist where he was still holding yours in his hand. You let the kiss linger for a moment longer, feeling his pulse under your lips. "I just- I don't know what to do really is all."

"Let me teach ya then." He said, his voice raspy with the thought of just how much you wanted to please him. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about you on your knees like this for him before. He quickly undid his own belt before kicking his boots and tattered, well-worn jeans off to one side leaving him in just his boxers. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs at the sight of the outline of his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. You hadn't even touched him and yet your head was swimming, making you feel drunker than any alcohol ever had. "Just go slow, take ya time." 

You reached out and lightly dragged your fingers across his cock over his boxers, feeling the way he twitched as your touch pulled a strangled moan from his lips. The sound awoke something in you, making you forget about your own nervousness for a moment as you went for it, finally tugging off his boxers to throw them down with the rest of his clothes. You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock and slowly stroked him up and down, watching for even the smallest reactions on his face. You could see the rise and fall of his chest as he fought to keep his eyes open, watching you as you let your tongue peek out, leaving kitten licks just under the head on every downward stroke.

"That's it Darlin' j'st like that." His southern drawl deepened as the lust he was feeling took over, building higher and higher. There was something about your innocence and how willing you were to learn, to let him be the one to ruin you that turned him on beyond belief. You kissed your way up his length all the way from the bottom until your tongue ran across the tip, licking up the precum that was starting to build up there. You leaned in then and took the tip between your lips, looking up at him as you slowly pushed your head forward. Your tongue ran along the underside as you took the first inch or two. "C'mon ya can take a lil' more, atta girl." 

You couldn't say no to the praise coming from Daryl as you pressed forward again, stopping just before his cock moved far enough back in your throat to make you gag. You moaned lightly around him at the feeling of finally having your mouth on him, the sound vibrating in your throat sending a spark of pleasure through Daryl,  You let your tongue do the work as you held him in your mouth, letting your body adjust to breathing through your nose as you traced along the vein that ran up the length before lapping over the rip.

"Suck." He said then, his voice breaking on the word as he tapped your full cheek. His hand found its way to your hair, tangling his fingers there as he slowly started to pull your head back before urging you forward again, setting your pace. He needed more, needed movement before he lost his mind. "Ya gotta suck and move yer head." 

You followed his instructions, hollowing out your cheeks as you matched the pace he set for you, bobbing your head over his cock. His hand tightened in your hair as you sucked and he let out a low groan of your name, his head falling back towards the ceiling. You pressed your thighs together in hopes of getting some relief as you ached between your legs at the noises he made. You got a little too eager at how good you were making him feel and took him deeper than you could, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as he hit the back of your throat and you gagged around him.

"Shit-" He moaned out at the feeling of sliding further into your throat, getting him even closer to the edge but he held himself back, resisting the urge to thrust his hips knowing it was too much for you. "Just breath, 'ts alrigh'. Easy sweetheart."

It sounded like he needed to listen to his own advice as his breathing grew heavy, his ragged breaths turning to groans as each movement brought him closer to the edge. You could feel your panties being ruined between your legs, growing wetter with each gasp and breathy moan of your name that fell from his lips. You started to gain more confidence and brought your hand up to join the mix, stroking what you couldn't take into your mouth

"Fuck!" Daryl practically growled low in his throat as he used his grip on your hair to pull you off him rougher than he'd intended as you started to move your hand harder along his cock. You looked up at him, wide-eyed with fear that you'd done something wrong but that quickly faded when you saw the look on his face. He collapsed backwards on the small bed, his eyes screwed shut as his hand tightened around the base of his cock, trying to regain control over himself. His chest was rising rapidly, a string of curses falling from his mouth. "Fuck- I almost fuckin' came. Christ woman how the hell was that your first time? That mouth is sinful." 

"You could have you know," The mix of knowing just how good you'd made Daryl feel and your slight nervousness at matching his dirty talk made you giggle. You rested your chin on his thigh and looked up at him through your lashes, sinking your teeth into your already swollen and saliva-coated bottom lip. "Come in my mouth. Kind of hoped you would."

"Next time Darlin' next time." You could feel your heart racing at the thought of a next time with Daryl already. You never wanted anyone else after this, Daryl was all you needed. He leaned down and helped you up from the rough cell floor, his hands smoothing over the harsh red marks showing on your knees. You kind of hoped they'd last, as a reminder. "C'mere to me."

You crawled onto the bed next to Daryl as he sat up and finally shrugged off his leather bike vest and short-sleeved flannel, giving you a full view of his chest. His body was perfect, every mark and scar just adding to how attractive he was to you. You ran your hands over his skin, feeling the way his stomach muscles tensed under your touch the lower you reached. Every touch and every moment of this was better than you could have ever imagined. You could never have imagined how hard his muscles would feel under your hands as they moved to his forearms, tracing over the tattoos there. 

Daryl's hands found their way back to your waist and he easily manhandled you, moving you however he wanted until you were lying down on the bed underneath him. He kneeled over you, grabbing your jaw in both hands as he crushed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss that knocked the air from your lungs. He was already strung out, his entire body on edge from how close he'd been earlier but still, his hands were gentle with you as they slid over your stomach, his kiss the only thing betraying how desperate he was.

He made quick work of your shorts, flicking the button open with one hand before pulling them down your legs. Within seconds of your shorts hitting the ground, Daryl sipped his hand into the front of your panties, slowly dragging his fingers across your folds as he felt how wet you were.

"This all for me? Did ya get this wet just from suckin' my dick?" He asked his voice dripping with that teasing tone that drove you wild, stopping his movements until you answered him.

"Yes. All for you Daryl." You gasped as he drew his fingers around your clit in painstakingly light circles as a reward for your answer. It was enough contact to send fire burning through your nerves but nowhere near enough to give you any kind of release. You bucked your hips up into his hand, hoping to get any kind of pressure but instead, he pulled his hand back out of your underwear moving to pull the already ruined material down your legs. He threw your panties to the side and returned his thumb to its previous position, brushing over your clit while he slowly pushed his middle finger inside you.

"Fuck ya really are tight aren't ya?"Daryl groaned out feeling the way you clenched around his finger as he imagined what it would feel like around his cock. He slowly pumped his finger in and out of you as he started to stretch you out. You were admittedly worried about being able to take Daryl when you felt the slight burn from his finger alone and he was bigger than you'd expected. "Don't worry sweetheart, I'll make sure yer ready." 

The feeling of Daryl fingering you was unlike anything you could have ever had with your own hands. His fingers were thicker than yours, stretching you out as he a second one to the mix and they were skilled. Years of working with his crossbow gave him the precision he needed to find your g-spot as he hooked his fingers inside of you. You never knew it could feel this good when it was someone else bringing you pleasure. He leaned down and caught the sounds of your moans with his mouth in a messy kiss.

He trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses across your jaw and down your throat towards your chest, you already knew they'd leave a mark as he sucked at your skin. His teeth nipped at your collarbone as you lost yourself in the pleasure that was starting to build higher and higher in the pit of your stomach. His tongue licked across your skin, soothing where he'd just bitten before slowly moving down to lap across the curve of your breasts. He focused his attention on you, trying to ignore how painful hard he was as he felt you buck up against his hand at another curve of his fingers. His lips latched around your nipple as his fingers never let up their pace, slowly stretching you out until Daryl could easily slide a third finger in.

Daryl grew restless with each minute that passed, changing his focus to your other breast as he sucked and lapped his tongue across the hardened nipple. The feeling of you clenching around his fingers as your hips thrust up to meet his movements drove him crazy. He couldn't take it anymore.

"Think ya can take me now sweetheart?" He asked, his voice dropping an octave as he leaned in close to whisper in your ear, his hot, uneven breath fanning across your skin. Your hands found his shoulders before sliding up to lock around his neck, pulling him into a kiss as you nodded. You were more than ready to feel Daryl inside of you, your body practically screaming at you with how badly you needed to come.

"Y-yeah Daryl please, please fuck me." You whined out at the feeling of Daryl pulling his fingers out of you, suddenly clenching around nothing. He brought his hand up admiring the slick coat of your arousal that coated his fingers before slipping them into his mouth. He let his eyes fall shut as he sucked, his tongue licking the taste of you from his fingers. 

"Fucking hell woman, I'm eatin' that pussy first chance I get. Taste so damn sweet." He groaned out, that low gravelly sound pooling between your legs as you pictured Daryl's head between your thighs. "But right now I might just fuckin' explode if I don't fuck ya."

Daryl shifted you both into a more comfortable position as he settled between your legs, his hands pushing your thighs further apart. He took a minute to admire the sight of you spread open in front of him before he lifted one leg to wrap around his waist. You got the hint, digging your heel into the small of his back to pull him even closer. You could feel his cock pressing against your folds when he adjusted himself as close as he could get to you.

"Ya ready for this?" He asked looking down between your bodies as he took his cock in his hand and teased the head over your clit. You threw your head back at the feeling, your leg tightening around his waist.

"I want you, Daryl." You gasped out, nodding your consent as he move his cock lower to gather some of the wetness around your entrance. Lube hadn't exactly been a top priority on your last few runs but Daryl still wanted to make sure this was as comfortable as possible for you as he stroked himself, spreading your arousal over his cock. 

With your final nod of approval, he pushed forward, the first few inches sliding inside you. You cried out at the feeling, your back arching off the bed as your hands grasped his arms, dragging your nails across his skin. Even with how much Daryl had tried to prepare you it still burned as your body fought to adjust to his size. Your chest heaved with your harsh breaths as you whimpered.

"Shh hush sweetheart yer alrigh'. Just breathe, it'll get better I promise. I'll go slow." You could feel your body relaxing from the simple words of praise from him as his hand cupped your jaw, swiping his thumb across your cheek. He moved at your pace, waiting until he felt your muscles relax, releasing their tight grip on him before he thrust forward again. This time he sunk into you fully, holding himself close to your body as he fought every instinct that was telling him to thrust, to just move. He buried his face in your chest, placing kisses between your breasts as he waited for you to adjust again.

"Daryl - move, please." The pleading tone in your voice sounded foreign even to your own ears but you couldn't help it. You had never felt this full, so completely surrounded as Daryl's body caged you into the bed. He stretched you out in all the best ways and even the pain it caused got you higher and higher. It felt like time slowed around you as Daryl stayed still inside of you and it was driving you crazy, you needed more, needed to feel him move.

Daryl wasted no time in giving you what you wanted, he pulled out almost entirely before thrusting back in. The rhyme he set was slow but deep, each thrust reaching a place inside you that had you moaning out at the contact. You gave into the feeling more and more as you adjusted, the pain giving way to pure pleasure. There was something freeing about being in the building alone, you didn't have to worry about who would hear you or what kind of attention you'd attract as your moans grew louder which each thrust until you were damn near screaming Daryl's name.

This feeling was far beyond anything you'd experienced before, beyond anything you could have imagined. Your senses were entirely overwhelmed by him, the feeling of each thrust building you towards the best orgasm of your life. The sound of his pants were growing heavier in your ear with each thrust and you were breathing in the rich, heady scent that was so unmistakably Daryl that made your head spin whenever you were around him.

You dragged your nails down his back, feeling the raised skin of his scars under your touch as you went, leaving new red marks after you. His thrusts were starting to grow sloppy, losing their rhyme as they came faster than before as he chased his own release while trying to keep his focus on you. His hands pinned your hips down to the bed as you tried to arch into the feeling, completely losing control of your body as your brain melted with how close you were.

All it took to break the pressure that was building inside of you was one swift drag of his thumb across your clit and you were spasming around him, your entire body freezing as you came hard. You grasped at him, needing something, anything to ground you as broken moans fell from your lips.

"Daryl! Oh god - I - shit - please. Please." You weren't sure what exactly you were begging him for anymore, all you knew was everything was too much and yet somehow not enough at all. Your control over your body entirely shut down as you turned to putty in his hands, letting him use you in whatever way he needed as he chased his own orgasm.

"Fuck ya feel fuckin' perfect, that pussy squeezin' me like that. Look so fuckin' sexy when ya cum like that for me. I coulda watched that forever." Daryl's words were becoming slurred as he spoke, barely making any sense anymore as his entire focus was on the feeling you were bringing him. His hips snapped roughly against you to the point of almost being painful before finally he rutted against you, moaning loudly into your neck as he came. You could feel him twitching inside you as he collapsed against you, his arms giving out underneath him. He didn't bother pulling out of you yet. "Doll ya have ruined me forever, I ain't ever gonna get as good a fuck with anybody else. Don't wanna either." 

"Daryl that was - that was- holy shit." You laughed but it came out more breathy as you collapsed back against the pillows, trying to steady your breathing. Daryl slowly pulled out of you, the feeling making you groan out at the slight discomfort but you were almost glad of the ache that you knew would remind you of what you'd done for days.

"Hope that was as good as ya were expectin' for yer first time," Daryl said nuzzling his nose under your jaw as he lay down beside you on the small bed, turning you on your side so he could pull you back against his chest.

"It was more than perfect, thank you, Daryl." You reassured him as you tangled your arms with his that had settled around your waist. You lost track of how long you lay like that, simply enjoying each other's company as Daryl pressed light kisses across your skin. You could have easily fallen asleep like that and any other time and you would have but you were still technically on duty. "We should get back before the others start askin' questions." 

Daryl hummed his agreement as he watched you sit up on the bed, running his hand up your back before you put your bra back on. He stood up from the bed as you started to dress yourself again and quickly threw back on his pants, walking over to grab a clean washcloth from the desk. Without saying a word he knelt down in front of you and gently wiped away the mess between your legs, leaving a light kiss against the outside of your thigh once you were clean. You could feel your heart flutter at the gesture, just the simple act of him taking the time to take care of you.

With your tank top still damp and abandoned in the sink of the washroom you slipped Daryl's oversized shirt on over your head before reaching to grab your panties from the pile of clothes. You glanced around in confusion when you noticed they weren't next to your shorts anymore.

"Daryl did you see my -" You looked up to see the cheeky grin on his face as he slipped his hand into his back pocket and dangled your panties from the tip of his finger in front of your face.

"Lookin' for these?" You rolled your eyes and reached to grab them from him but he quickly dodged your movement tucking them back into his pocket. "Consider it a keepsake. Until next time."

"Well in that case," You stood up slipping back on your shorts with nothing underneath, even after everything you'd just done it felt like the naughtiest thing you'd done all day. The denim rubbed against you in all the places you were still sensitive. You pushed up on your toes to kiss his cheek before whispering the next words in his ear. "I'll find a cuter pair for you to keep next time."

Taglist: @azanoni @ineedmorefanfics2

[septembersums]

𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝑫𝒂𝒚 4 | 𝑷𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒌

| 18+ MINORS DNI | taglist | masterlist | art credits |

pairing: suguru x reader

summary: an aspect of suguru's personality that isn't normally talked about is his deep, consuming desire to be praised, to be worshipped, to have people who will devote themselves entirely to him. he has ways of achieving this: charisma, charm, intimidation...

but suguru's favorite type of adoration isn't coerced. it's given freely, openly, honestly, and most importantly, it's given by you.

content: praise kink | cult stuff | curse users | suguru being whiny and desperate for you | topping from the bottom | needy submissive suguru | femdom | submissive suguru | drunk sex |

wc: 1.9k

a/n: i love the idea of whiny needy suguru so much it's rotting my brain. u both worship each other but maybe suguru worships u even more than u do him ;)

links: | ao3 | old tumblr | twitter | discord |

Maybe it started in high school, when Suguru was always known to be the second best. Of course Gojo would tell him that they're the strongest together, that the power difference between the two of them doesn't mean anything, because they're friends.

But to Suguru, it was never good enough. He could never shine on his own when he standing right next to the sun incarnate. He had to leave, he had to make a better world for the people that mattered to him: sorcerers.

Those with cursed energy will rule the world, and he'll make sure of it. He'll be personally responsible for bringing forth a new age where curses don't exist, and for that-- he will be worshipped.

He's already worshipped by his followers, now deemed his family, but their praise doesn't mean half as much to him as yours does.

It was two years ago when Suguru found you working as a barista in a local coffee shop. He'd come once a week or so, and he'd make conversation with you. It was casual talk, nothing of significance; he certainly didn't bring up that you were dripping in cursed energy.

The timing just wasn’t right, not quite yet.

No, he didn't tell you about the world that you’ll rule with him. Until one morning during one of his visits, you were being absolutely berated by a man in his fifties for not getting his iced americano right.

He thought about killing the man right then and there for not noticing your worth, for not realizing that the person he was screaming at was so far above him that she's practically a different species.

A monkey screaming at a goddess-- what a fucking shame.

He threw his iced americano onto your white shirt, you quit your job, and a first grade curse user was born.

Suguru likes to think about that morning when he's drinking, such as he is tonight. Sake always tastes like desire to Suguru. It washes away the vomitous taste of the curses he ingests.

When you walk in the door to his room, sliding it closed quietly behind you, everything tastes and smells like sakura blooms in the height of spring. Sweet and delicate, soft and mild.

You turn to face him, and your wide eyes are so the opposite of his own. Your skin is smooth, plush in all of the perfect places, and your voice is gentle and soothing.

A curse user who carries herself like an angel, he was fucked the day he met you. He'd been chaste before you, abstinent from the sins of the flesh.

It wasn't because of any vow that he took, he just didn't find interest in the women or men who surrounded him, and he could never bring himself to fuck a filthy monkey.

You ruined him, with your soft tits and your wet pussy and your cooing voice. Your domineering tone that’s still somehow full of gentle praises. You ruined him beyond repair.

"Did you call for me, Master Geto?" You ask, falling to your knees before him out of respect.

His cock hardens underneath his robes at the sight of it.

He laughs softly, "You don't need to be so formal with me, angel."

His angel, you’ve been his angel since he first saw you with a halo of cursed energy floating around you like an ethereal glow from the heavens.

"I do," you argue, looking up at him and cocking your head to the side innocently, "because I worship you, Master Geto."

His cock goes from half-hard to throbbing against his thigh, he swallows thickly. There's a red blush extending from his pink cheeks to the tips of his ears, his chest will be splotched with roses, too.

"Is that what you'd like me to do tonight?" You ask, subservient yet sly, “Did you call me here to worship you?”

Because you can read him like a book, and though he's domineering in his daily life-- when you're alone with Geto, he becomes malleable like clay. He becomes needy, he becomes whiny, he becomes desperate.

Your thighs are clenching together already at the mere thought of it.

"Yes," he murmurs softly, "please-- come here."

So, you rise from your knees and approach him. Now he's the one sitting on the ground, while you stand in front of him, running your fingers through his hair.

You undo the loose knot at the back of his scalp, letting all of his raven hair fall loosely around his shoulders. Suguru shivers at your every touch, wrapping his hands around your thighs as he nuzzles you with his nose.

"Please me first," you hum lovingly to him, "and then I'll take care of you."

He nods eagerly, gulping as he lifts up your skirt to inhale the scent of you. He moans wantonly as he does so, nuzzling his nose against your cunt before tentatively swiping his tongue through your folds.

Your head falls back as he licks you slowly, lapping at your slick reverently.

"Good, Suguru,” you moan softly, calling him by his first name and tightening your grip in his hair, "that's good-- that's perfect.”

In front of the others, he’s Master Geto, and you belong to him just as they do. But in private, Suguru is yours.

He whimpers against your clit when you praise him, growing more and more needy by the second. To tease him, you press the sole of your foot against his hardened cock, massaging it while he swirls his tongue against your clit.

"That's it-- oh, you're amazing," you purr, as he finds the right rhythm, "just like that, make me come-- just like that."

His moans against your slick cunt vibrate you to your core, as he greedily laps you up, tongue-fucking the precise spot that you praised him for finding until the coil in your stomach tightens, and you brace yourself against his shoulder.

It hits you like a wave of warm, flowing pleasure, as you come apart on his tongue, shuddering and sighing through it, rocking your hips back and forth against his mouth to ride it out.

You're breathing heavily when you pull back from his face, looking down at him affectionately. Suguru's cheeks are red, his lips are swollen and slick with come, his breaths are faltering and unsteady.

"You look beautiful like that," you say sweetly, before gracefully lowering yourself to your knees in front of him.

You kiss him hungrily, tasting yourself on his lips, before flattening your palms to his shoulders and pushing him down onto the tatami flooring. His robes have already started to fall undone, you help them the rest of the way off.

His chest is flushed pink, much like the tip of his cock when you free it from his clothes. It's red, hard, pulsing in your hand, leaking a more than generous amount of precum as you stroke him a few times.

He whines, throwing his head back. Suguru has the most sensitive cock you've ever touched. He gets hard so easily, he cums so easily.

"Would you like me to ride you, Master Geto?" You ask softly, running your thumb along the tip of his hypersensitive cock.

It’s ironic of you to call him Master when he’s begging you for release like this.

"Y-Yes, please," he stutters, already attempting to thrust his hips up into your hand.

You allow it a few times, making a tight ring with your palm and your fingers for him to rut into, as he moans wantonly. He loves praise, he's addicted to it, and he's addicted to you.

"Ha--Ah--Ah," he moans with every cant of his hips, "oh, please, please--"

You chuckle softly, as you stop stroking him to mount him and press the leaking tip to your entrance. He's already done such a fine job at getting you wet and ready, he slides right in.

"Oh-- Oh," he whines, holding his eyes closed, "please move, please move, please-- please, angel--"

"You're so needy, Suguru," you remind him, as you lift yourself up and let your weight fall back onto the length of his cock, "so desperate, so pussy-drunk already."

"You feel so good, so good," he babbles, thrusting upwards to meet each of your movements, "ah-- ngh-- fuck."

You play with your clit while you ride him, knowing that if he's this horny and needy, he won't last too much longer. Your pussy sucks him up greedly, as your walls tighten around him, and you chase your own release before giving him his.

"Your cock is so big, you're fucking me so good," you tell him, panting now as you search for your high, riding him faster.

"More-- More, more, more," he begs, fucking up into you so hard that you're barely having to move at all, "tell me how good it feels, please tell me, please."

He squeezes your breast with one hand, gripping your ass with the other, as he leans up to suck your nipple into his mouth. Suguru loves your tits, he loves how they bounce when you ride him.

You give him what he needs, you tell him how big and hard he is, how he hits your g-spot with every thrust, how no other man could ever feel as good inside your cunt as he does. He fits you perfectly, he makes you feel so good.

You fall apart again listening to his incoherent babbling and whines, humping him with a hand pressed to his chest to hold him still while you fuck yourself through it.

His heart races when he watches you come, the sounds he makes when you clench around his cock and he involuntarily thrusts upwards are enough to drive you mad.

He says your name like a prayer, "please-- need to cum, let me cum-- tell me you want it, tell me you want me to fill you up-- need to hear it, need it, need it--"

"Cum inside me, Suguru," you rasp, coming back to your senses enough to ride him harder and faster to get him there.

His eyebrows scrunch together, he bites his lower hip, he fucks up into you like an animal who can't get enough.

"Please, Suguru," you coo, "you're so pretty when you're about to come, you make the sweetest faces, I wanna see the ones you make when you fill me up. Show me, Suguru, give it to me."

“Gonna come— Gonna come— I’m gonna— Ah—Oh fuck, fuck—“

And he does as asked, like a good boy. He grips your hips tightly, fucking you with short, stuttering movements of his hips as warmth sprays out inside of you, coating your walls in his sticky come.

"That's it, that's it," you praise him, stroking his hair away from his face as he makes a soft sobbing sound, "that's it— just like that. Good boy, good job, baby. Fuck it all into me, I want it all.”

"Ngh-- fuck, thank you, angel. Thank you, thank-- ha-- you."

You smile and kiss him through the aftershocks. He kisses you back sweetly, letting out soft little sounds in protest of the overstimulation as you milk him dry.

“I love— ngh— love y-you,” he mutters, still so incredibly sensitive from his orgasm.

“I love you too, Master Geto,” you answer with a sly smile.

Your relationship is more special than anyone else's, because you're the only one he falls apart for, the only one whose praise matters.

taglist: @septembersummer | @lilithlunas | @violetsaffron5 | @blackdxggr

[chaosheadspace]

In case no one's asked, I'd like to know more about Child of the Depth

Hey! Thank you for asking about it. I didn't think anyone would, bc it's an original story and this is, well, a fandom blog. I just included it because it's an active WIP and I thought the list looked a little sad with just three entries. Child of the depth is a working title for now for lack of one that fits better. Have a look:

(I will not be italicising this one for tumblr bc it's a lot. Apologies.)

The sound of drums rang through the halls of the mountain, deep and echoing. The wind had changed. Idil busied himself with the levers, closing and opening the vents, ensuring that the city inside the mountain could breathe.

The excursion the president had sent out a month ago still wasn't back. Three of the dwarven folk had been chosen to go into the depths, following a path of natural tunnels and caverns, looking for new ore deposits, most importantly wiremetal. It should have taken them three weeks at most.

It was not the dwarven nature to be anxious about such things, or so they behaved, and life milled through the city like normal. Idil watched it from the perch of his workplace, nestled into a stone shelf high above even the tallest buildings.

Up here, the bustle of the streets and forges was quieter; quiet enough to hear the hum and moan of the air piping through the many tunnels drilled into the crown of the mountain. They ran high, some of them as small in diameter as Idil’s little finger, some of them as wide as an orehorn’s torso. They carried air and light and meltwater, engineered and perfected over centuries upon centuries; filled with turbinating spirals and prisms and small grooves to better aid their purpose.

The pipes catching the water gurgled happily as Idil pulled the last lever to open the final tunnel towards the southeast where the rhythm of the drums had told him the wind was coming from. Only then he closed the southern ones. It was vital that the air was never cut off completely. Eight hundred years ago the control shelf had collapsed, leaving open only two minor airways, killing half of the city before the gates to the outside could be pulled apart.

The story of the collapse was carved into the stairs leading up to the shelf; the collapse itself a grand mosaic at the bottom of the steps, the bannister lined with the tight coil of the spiral rune for “Dwarven soul”, repeated three thousand and eighty one times for every death. The balustrade of the control shelf itself featured the group of eleven people who had fought to open the great gates to let in air again. The great gates themselves were painted on the wall where the levers were installed, reminding every dwarf who worked on the shelf that their duty was to the stone lungs that kept their entire people alive.

The world sang under Idli’s hands, wood and wire, stone and metal, sparking, alive, breathing. He completed the shut off and sat down on the floor again, waiting for the next signal. Closing his eyes, he listened to the drums as they cycled through reporting the weather, inside and outside; as they announced break time for the welders and the shift change for the second mine shaft; as they announced today’s yield of wiremetal ore. Then they beat out the first verse of a children’s lullabye, announcing bedtime, and Idil realised that Basaa must be on shift. Her daughters were just old enough to go to bed by themselves, to fall asleep soothed by their mother’s drumming; the heartbeat of the city. Sometimes it was easy to know who was operating the big woolen mallets simply by the messages they choose to send between the important ones. Just like in a three-chambered dwarven heart, the pulse of the drums was ever present.

And then the drums stopped, and Idil’s eyes flew open.

His breath stalled until their sound picked up again, frantic, sharp, hammering out the words that everyone had been waiting to hear for a whole week. *Excursion team back—three dwarves and child entering hall from the west downward tunnel—alive—on foot and carried—fourteen beats before sundown—excursion team back—three dwarves…*

The city exhaled with relief.

Half an hour later, the drums message deviated from schedule again. The elders were called into the main hall, which included Idil as the eldest of the Guards of the shelf. He stood and leaned on the balustrade, waiting for his replacement. The shelf was never to be empty. Despite the calm and stoicism that were most valued character traits, he felt a spark of impatience and restlessness at his core, fingers tapping away at the carved stone.

*There*. He could see someone weaving through the city towards the bottom of the steps, quick, determined, faster than its beat. As they were crossing the mosaic he could see that it was Udain, apprentice in the sixth year.

By the time Udain was halfway up the steps, Idil stood at the top of them, left hand on the rail, right hand at the leather rope attached to his belt. It had a peculiar hook at the end, fashioned after his precise instructions, and he was the only one carrying a tool of this fashion. The others did not dare.

“Please don't,” Udain wheezed as she approached the top. “One of these days, you'll kill yourself.”

Idil shook his head and unhooked the metal hook, uncoiled the short leather strap. “This is an emergency. You heard them.”

Udain reached the top, and as soon as her foot touched the shelf, Idil clamped the hook onto the handrail of the steps, which it was made to fit.

“Don't pretend you don't like it!” She scolded.

Idil jumped over the rail.

The metal welting at the bottom of his left shoe hit the stone beneath the rail, and the speed blew Idol's hair away from his face and the collar of his shirt back. Udain was right, he loved this. *Klack-klack*. The others were too afraid, afraid of the height, afraid of the flimsy leather, afraid of the jumps the hook did frequently. *Klack-klack*.

Only Idil knew what they meant, what they were for, and he counted each one carefully as the metal of his shoes rained sparks down into the dark. *Klack-klack*. At every sixtieth soul mark carved into the rail there were two notches, making the hook rattle and jump.

*Klack-klack.* Twenty-one. Idil braced himself and at the next rattle he jumped, away from the stairs, turned to account for the turn in the stairs, and set his foot down again with a screech. That's another thing the others were afraid of, the turn of the stairs, the agility needed for the jump, the fall if they got it wrong. *Klack-klack*. Thirty-two.

Idil had failed to make the jump often, in the beginning. There was no fall, only a face full of stone rail, which is the reason for his crooked nose and his gold-rimmed front teeth. Cowards, the lot of them. *Klack-klack*. Forty-five.

Idil readied himself, put his second hand onto the strap, pulling the knee of his other leg up. *Klack-klack*. Forty-six.

He put his second foot against the stone and braced himself, his shoes screeching and shaving over the marks left by him and, he had no doubt, others before him. They were what gave him the idea in the first place. *Klack-klack-klack*. Forty-nine.

Idil snapped the hook off the rail and jumped, landing heavily at the edge of the mosaic with a clang, breaking the energy of his descent with a few hasty steps. Pressing his right thumb to the deep indent that once must have been the fiftieth notch at the bottom of the stairs for good luck, he turned towards the city. Countless fingers had worn a small bend into the rail.

With the small gesture taken care of, Idil took the path Udain had come from and ran. He was expected, and he could not wait to hear the news. To see for himself.

[unpopularbunny]

This lowkey been a long time coming if I’m being honest. I am also a massive fucking hypocrite because I will avoid Baku/kiri/reader fics but this??? This right here??? 🙇‍♀️ I’m on the floor baby. (Ngl this has like a pinch of body shaming in it, just wanna preface by saying I do not hate any specific group of people based on any physical trait they may have. I just want more love for big girlies.)

Pairing: chifuyu/reader/baji

You already know: reader is a fat girl!!!!! everyone’s an adult, no set timeline, fuck it we ball 🏀, paranormal slutivity, your fave mans is a whore, public shenanigans, reader lowkey under the influence but there’s no dub/noncon, no beta reader again so if u point out any flaws ur being mean to me and if ur mean to me I’ll die, reblogs make u SO big brained 🗿🗿

Minors: ur mama know what you doin? I’m telling 💥

A/n: I’ll add a readmore when i get home and can make sure tumblr wont eat my post when I do.

🌹🌷🌹

you just wanted to be different for once. To ignore years of mass media telling you how to dress, to feel wild and FREE. you wanted tight revealing clothes and makeup all over your face, you wanted men to jaw drop and double take at the sight of your hips swaying.

This fantasy never got far and you never predicted you’d end up between two friends who always shared in the name of brotherly camaraderie.

Leeeets take it back about a week.

You weren’t by any means conservative in your day by day fashion, you just didn’t dress how you truly wanted to. You were always worried about the stares you’d get, stares that dared to ask ‘does she know she’s embarrassing herself?’. As time went on the urge to free yourself from the confines of stretchy jeans and sweaters was too much to ignore any longer. All it took was one night of drinking at home for you to blow nearly half a paycheck on clothes that were one inch away from getting you in legal trouble. You felt justified in this, it was your turn damnit!!! You were tired of hours doom scrolling on your phone and watching all the pretty skinny girls be drowned in affection, you wanted to make people notice you. You wanted to make men think about you as you walked passed, you deserved attention and people to fawn over you.

Needless to say, the next day you realized how fucking delusional your thinking was the night before.

You nursed a headache all through the day and when you got home you were greeted by your roommate in the livingroom looking like the cat that caught the mouse. Next to her on the couch was a plastic package, she shook it at you wiggling her eyebrows and you snatched it from her before she could even ask and shuffled to your room. You could hear her cackling. It’s not like you had any kind of bad blood with your roommate, you two were actually childhood friends, you just didn’t want anyone to see your secrets.

You showered and stood in your room, staring at the package on your bed before deciding fuck it and ripping it open. You couldn’t even remember what all you ordered anyway. Most of the articles of clothing were black, save for some racy sets of underwear you thought looked cute. You refused to believe any of it could fit you, it seemed so….small. There was no way in hell you were going to give up now though, you spent all that fucking money so there was no reason not to try the clothes on.

A mistake really.

They fit you far too good.

Sure, it was tight, but not uncomfortably so, in fact the tightness felt comforting in a way? The tops hugged your curves and even though your tummy peaked out at the bottom, you thought it looked cute in a way. The skirts wouldn’t stay down, rolling up your ass when you paced your room, you’d definitely have to wear a jacket with those. The pants needed belts, your waist to hip ratio was too different for them to stay up. They felt tigh and constricting on your hips and thighs, but there was plenty of waist room. After posing a bit in your mirror you sort of lost yourself for a bit. Falling in love with your curves and admiring how your body had so many wonderful attributes.

You almost screamed when someone’s knocked on the door.

You failed to lock it and it was your downfall.

Your roommate was all gasps and awes’ at your state. She paced around you like a tiger and assaulted you with compliments, no matter how you tried to shush her and make excuses, she wouldn’t hear it. She made you re-try on all the clothes so she could see them all. It felt like you were back to school shopping with your mom, except this time she wasn’t forcing you into bullshit khakis and polos. It actually turned into a bunch of fun as she gave you tips for accessorizing and hair styling.

When all was calmed down and you two were on the couch she took your weakness and vulnerability as a chance to strike like the snake she is.

She insisted you two go out this weekend!

You couldn’t even shoot her down, she had just spent the last hour boosting your ego and self esteem that you mumbled out a small ‘I guess’. She clapped her hands in glee and started firing off names of bars and clubs and she got the same responses from you every time ‘you pick’ and ‘I’ve never been there before.’ The most you told her is that you wanted to go somewhere you wouldn’t be recognized by coworkers or other friends and colleagues.

She just threw her head back and laughed, saying that you wouldn’t be recognizable with those clothes on anyway.

You couldn’t help but feel a little paranoid about what she had in store for you.

🌹 🌷 🌹

The week went by too fast for your liking and every time you tried to back out of the plans you were strongarmed by your roommate. She wasn’t going to let you go that easy. When Saturday arrived you tried avoiding her, but she was more determined than you’ve ever seen her.

You gave in and let her do with you as she pleased.

She picked out your outfit from the new clothes you bought and dug around your closet for some platforms you’d bought years ago but never worn (amazingly they still fit regardless of your calves.). She styled your hair and even did your makeup (you still got to pick the colors (: ), you felt like a sacrifice being painted up before the ritual.

How close to this assumption you were.

The club she dragged you two was some hole in the wall in shibuya with low lights and loud music. You were sweating before you even went in and it was only hotter once you two were inside. You could feel the bass shoot through your entire body and you felt so nervous and couldn’t look anywhere but the floor. Your friend ordered you both a few drinks, or rather ‘liquid courage’ she dubbed it. You were thankful for it, seeing as after a few drinks you felt much more comfortable in your skin than before. Your friend excused herself to the bathroom and you smiled and waved her off as she went, taking a few more sips of whatever new fruit concoction was in front of you.

After a few moments you were occupied on both sides by two new people. You glanced to your right and had to look up to see the man, Jesus Christ, even with platforms on he still had a few inches on you. He had long silky black hair, brown eyes, and a smile so sinister you would normally feel scared. You smiled right back and when you glanced to your left you were a few inches taller than other man. This man had short cut black hair, the cutest green eyes you’d ever seen, and ear piercings. Speaking of ears, the tips of his seemed to be tinted a little….pink?

You weren’t sure what to do now that men approached you first so you went back to looking down at your drink and sipping at it. You were a little hunched over and caught bits and pieces of the men having a conversation over your head. ‘You like this one?’ ‘Baji don’t objectify women like that, its kinda gross.’ ‘I’m just trying to help is all’ His laugh caught you off guard and you jumped.

“Eh? What’s wrong girlie? Did we scare you?” You glanced to your right and..baji? Was leaning down into your personal space. When you leaned back you were leaning into his friend, who didn’t exactly seem to hate your body pressing into his.

“No- you’re just a little…close is all” you were surprised anyone could hear you over the music.

“C’mon baji let’s le-“ baji waved his hand and chifuyu stopped.

“Wanna dance with us?” He was pressing himself against your side, his hand gliding up your thigh towards your hips. He laughed at the confused face you responded with, “yeah girlie, both of us, unless that ain’t your type thing. I just assumed on account of how you dressin and all.” You couldn’t tell if your face was hot from being drunk or the embarrassment.

You should feel outraged at the fact that he assumed you were a loose woman but…..was that such a bad thing? You wanted to feel desired, you wanted to be lusted after, and it was happening. He wasn’t using force, in fact his hand was merely resting at the small of your back rubbing small circles. You were still in a public place so it’s not as if he could do anything to you, you didn’t dress up to weigh the pros and cons. You downed the rest of your fruity drink and nodded, relinquishing yourself to whatever ungodly fate awaited you.

“Atta girl,” He took one hand while his friend took your other and gently led you away from the bar, “we’re gonna have so much fun with you tonight sweetie.” It was like micro-dosing danger. Every smile and laugh having some sinister undertone.

But god was it fun.

🌹 🌷 🌹

You got the hang of dancing in clubs a few years ago, it wasn’t hard, it didn’t take any special skill. You just needed to know what to do with your hips and hands.

Which you were currently struggling to do.

You’d danced with other men before, but mostly one at a time, never quite….like this.

You had your back against baji, his hands were on your hips to guide you. He was guiding you to sway against him, every so often pressing his hardon against your ass. one of your arms were up and behind you, wrapped around his neck to keep him close. Your other arm was front of you, draped over the shoulder of his more reserved friend (who you still had to get a name from), whom was doing things that contradicted the cool demeanor he gave off. He was pressed as close as he could be, his pelvis pushed against yours so you got a good idea of the fun he was having. Even if he didn’t do the best job of showing it. He was so close his nose would brush yours every so often and you expected him to kiss, but he didn’t. His hands were at your waist, holding a little tighter than expected, as if he were giving your exposed flesh squeezes here and there.

Something about this felt so shamelessly erotic.

You were so wrapped up that you didn’t give a thought to your friend who had gone to the bathroom, she probably had seen you by now and didn’t want to interrupt. You felt so transfixed on the green eyes infront of you and the hands sliding down your waist to your thighs and pulling up the edges of your skirt-

“Shhh don’t make a scene-“ you had seized up but Baji’s guiding hands kept you moving, “you like this don’t you?” It was his friend, his voice was much firmer, “That’s why you’re here, like this, between us. You want it.” His hand was under your skirt and sliding up up up. So fucking slow that you shifted just to get his hand between your legs faster. Just as his fingers brushed the forming wet spot on your panties, you could hear baji laugh against your neck on the other side of you.

“How the fuck are you so good at spotting the good ones chifuyu” was that his name? A man had his fingers pressed against your clit and you’re just now learning his name?

“Eh? What do you mean so good?” He shot back, his hand was in your panties, rubbing and petting at your clit while having a normal conversation as if you weren’t between them.

“Look at her!” You moaned and grinded against chifuyus hand, doing your best to make them focus on you again, “Perfect size to split between us and such a cute cheeks!” One of baji’s hands came up and pinched your cheek for emphasis.

“Do you honestly believe that every decision i make is backed by some deep analysis?” He laughed, “I guessed!” You arched as two fingers slid inside of you and curled, any noise you made was cut off by chifuyu kissing you. His kiss was desperate. The fingers inside you moved, slowly and carefully- god his tongue was inside your mouth now and you were suffocating but your head was absolutely floating. It was just so hard to keep focus on your surroundings. So many sensations- you could feel slick beginning to coat your thighs as his hand moved faster and you got sloppier. When he pulled away your lipstick was smeared on his mouth and there was a hazy look in his eyes. He buried his face against your neck on one side and baji was on the other. Chifuyu hand was between your legs and one of bajis hands had found it’s way under your shirt and was giving your nipple an unforgiving pull and twist. You three were pressed so close together that no one could really figure out what was happening, not that anyone was going to stop it.

They owned the bar after all.

Chifuyu tilted his hand and when his thumb brushed your clit your legs wobbled and baji had to focus on keeping you upright against him. Chifuyu smiled and laughed, the first you’d seen tonight, and you felt embarassed all over again.

“Hey! Don’t go falling apart on us sweet heart, we aren’t even close to being done with you yet.” Baji was encouraging you and the whine you let out only encouraged him tenfold.

Rather than fight against the waves and risk drowning, you went with the flow and closed your eyes and relaxed into them. You’d never had such a lavish experience of having two pretty boys give you attention like this. It was way past overstimulating but not in a bad way, you’d worry about that in the morning. Right now you your moans were escalating with the music. When said music began to dip but your voice didn’t follow suit, one of bajis hands wrapped tightly around your mouth while chifuyu increased pace.

“Thaaats it,” chifuyu whispered into your neck, “Make a mess for me.”

“You might wanna hold on tight girlie,” Baji mocked, “He overachieves.” You moved your arms so both of them were wrapped around chifuyu.

You had never been more thankful for loud ass music more than now. Had it not been for whatever club mix was on, everyone would hear the sloppy wet lewd noises of the three fingers that were buried inside of you. Any words or pleas you voiced were muffled and baji took on the sole responsibility of holding you up while chifuyu gladly drove you to climax.

They were both so goddamn obscene in their own right. Not only did they casually whisper conversation to eachother about all the wonderful things you three could get up to together, but they each had individual plans for you. Baji wanted to try having you all to himself for a day to see what other kinds of clothes he could put you in and then rip off of you. Chifuyu mentioned something about ‘giving support’ under his desk while he had stressful days at work. Baji definitely agreed with that and had the fucking drive to ask what you felt like inside.

“Inside? Like heaven.” Chifuyu made it sound like a sin, “She’s so slippery and soft.” Stop stop stop! “What about her mouth?” As if on unspoken command, baji shoved two fingers right into your mouth and pet at your tongue. You drooled so easily and licked without hesitation.

“She’s already drooling,” He shoved his fingers deeper, he did it so fast you gaged and coughed, “Gag reflex? We can fix that sweetheart.” Danger alarms began to fire off in your head, unfortunately they went ignored in lieu of the heat in your lower stomach. You were so close and desperate you just let them carry on, anything to keep the fingers inside of you.

Your whole body seized up when you came and you were truly astonished you didn’t blackout completely. They laughed in amazement at the sight of your eyes rolling back and the way you arched. You were putty in their hands, laying limp back against baji but still holding onto chifuyu.

Maybe going out wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

[koko-online]

On GW2's narratives

I maintain that the reason GW2's stories always fall flat (though some more than others cough SotO cough) is that we have almost no villains.

What parts of the story do people remember most fondly? LW1, PoF, and LW4 almost universally. Y'know, the parts that came to life because of Scarlet Briar, Balthazar, and Palawa Joko. I´d also add the tearjerker at the end of EoD and saying goodbye to Aurene, but that's not relevant to the point I'm going to make.

Remember in like 8th grade English class, when your teacher talked about conflicts in storytelling? It was probably something like this.

GW2 has opted almost universally for the bottom-right quadrant : Person vs. Nature. There's nothing wrong with that type of conflict. The dragons are a force of nature more than independent living things, and the Kryptis and Titans are about the same after all was said and done with them.

But those kinds of stories are almost antithetical to the power fantasy that most MMORPGs, including GW2, rely on. The only time in the history of this game where anything felt actively hostile was in HoT's open world. So we're just left there reacting to a quasi-mindless threat with no motivations, goals, or real personality, who we know for sure we're going to defeat because it's a video game designed to be beaten with minimal effort. If we wanted to call the antagonistic forces a "natural disaster", they would be the equivalent of a pretty mild rainshower. Not exactly a compelling story.

Before I move into villains, I want to address why Society and Self would also make uninteresting conflicts in this case. In both cases, it requires ANET to define our character's personality, goals, and convictions more than they already have. This leaves players feeling disconnected from any sort of potential narrative roleplay. Additionally, in the former's case, it would require ANET to make a profound political message, which I don´t think they are capable of.

That leaves us with Person vs. Person. Here's where villains come in.

Villain-centric stories are almost a cheat code for MMORPGs. Look at Lilith from FFXI, Shiro Tagachi and Khilbron from GW1, the Lich King from WoW, Emet Selch (everyone's favourite sexy grampa) and Zenos from FFXIV.

They allow you to tell a full and complete character-driven story without writing our characters for us or having to write them as cartoons so that they stand out (literally every one of our main party members in GW2). You're forced to define your character in comparison or contrast to the villain's aims, means, and/or convictions.

We found out later that Scarlet Briar was an agent of Modremoth, but at the time, we thought she was some batshit genius! We saw and reacted to the shit she was doing through the lens of trying to understand her. It made the world feel big and fragile and mysterious.

We met Balthazar as he deceived us, and we had to reckon with a god's view of life vs. our own.

Palawa Joko, I mean, nuff said, he's the best character writing we've ever had in this game and he was taken out of GW1. And he was played half for laughs!

When we don´t have strong antagonist writing, we're left with just a beige sea of allies who have no real philosophical underpinnings. Of course they're against the threat, it's killing them, what else? I don´t even know any of the SotO characters names because I can´t care about them. They're faceless randoms who simply act as agents of Isgarren. Okay. Who cares?

I am 1000000% certain that the writing team at ANET follows my inane tumblr blog closely, so please, take my advice and give us a mirror.

[definitelynotaminion]

Rated "R" for Robin, Chapter 2 pt 6

This is a continuation of sneak peaks for Chapter 2 of this Jaytim fic (7k chapter 1). (Also on ao3) The full wip of chapter 2 is up on my patreon, if you’re interested (the full fic is up to 14,080 words so far). Here’s where to read the rest of the released sneak peaks in chronological order on tumblr.

-

Seeing you, just-- seeing you. Lay it open for me, baby bird.

“That would have been... affecting.” Considering rather than stilted, humming rather than forced through a tight throat.

“The suit? All black?”

“Your regard.” Tim sounded strangled. “You’re right. Nobody ever looked at me, much less-- I would have been arrested by the...”

Bruce. Just, Bruce.

Poetry in the most innocuous of places, prose for the sweat on his cheek.

“I wouldn’t have looked away.” Jason dared, and Tim made a hurt sound, a torn sound, so Jason pressed on. “Would you have come, if I gestured-- to a side room, an alcove, somewhere?”

“You could have-- signed. I would have. Recognized.”

“The code? Fuck, you would have, you freaky little stalker. But I don’t know you know, remember?” Jason huffs. “Maybe my hand twitches into it unconsciously, and you look. Meet-north or something.”

He twirls his hand in lazy mockery of the bat-sign for rendezvous, hoping Tim can see it. He realizes, all at once, that part of him is already inviting him over, dragging him into the room and--

Some variety of ‘and’.

“And you... find out I know.” Hoarse, like the words cost him. A flicker of tongue over lips, the slightest hitch in the mic’s feed.

“I suspect.” Jason corrects. “Maybe not that. Maybe it’s coincidence. But you look so familiar.”

“You meet me anyway.” Tim says, “It’s the Starr mansion, so off that little--”

“Yeah, to the back of that north hallway.” Jason knows the one. “I get you there and I wouldn’t put my hands on you.”

Tim’s-- mouth falls open. Just. Right there on the comms. The sounds of Tim’s breath just that much louder for him.

“You have to. Find out what I know.” A shudder through his voice, a hint of pant.

“Mmhm.” Jason lets his eyes slip half-lidded, giving a little teeth to his bottom lip. “And Robin had a certain way of that, yeah? You ever see me use those moves?”

“Yes.” Tim says, instantly. “It’s only...”

“Yeah?” Jason’s Robin had been a little heavy handed with the flirting, a little mean-- backed up with the fucking confidence that came from knowing he was the hottest and meanest piece of ass in the room.

“Jay.” Tim’s breathy little protest of a laugh. “I suspect... Large amounts of my gray matter would probably melt, Jason.”

“That good, huh?” He rolls his tongue around his inner lip, pokes his cheek to hide the grin.

“My brain would leak out of my ears.” He stresses.

Jason swallows. And-- yeah, why not? They’re already fucking here, already wide the fuck open, pried apart where his fucking chest scars--

“I’m Jay.” He pitches his voice just that much different, just that little bit--

“Jay!” Tim screams, affronted and scandalized and a lot of other things wrapped up in one little neurotic package that wants this. Wants this enough to be afraid of it.

“I’ve seen you around before,” Jason says with an easy, cajoling confidence-- and fucking intense eyes, burning-- fuck, burning right through people, demanding everything.

Tim breathes on the comms, breathes for a hot second that could teeter either way, and then he sinks right down.

Good-- Jason shakes his head.

“Timothy Drake.” Tim demurs, in a bland voice, an uninteresting voice, and like hell Jason would have let that slide-- not when Tim followed him over here, not when Tim has so much in his eyes. The glimpse of fear, of shyness-- interest--

You wouldn't give me that, he thinks, eyes narrowed and tongue pressing hard to his fucking teeth-- no. Jason wouldn't haven taken it.

And touching the kid-- this kid-- would be way too much, too soon, but Jason can still lean a little, get up close and personal-like.

"Do your friends call you Tim?" A blend, perhaps, the older yearning streaking through, something a little more direct than Jason would have-- probably-- gone for, but only if little Tim didn't look at him like a fucing shark.

"My-- I don't. Didn't have friends at this time."

And it's not like Jason couldn't relate-- the streets were lonely and cold-- but--

"Really? None?"

"I. I'd shiver." Tim says, truthfully. Like a bared fucking throat, Jason's scar, Jason's scar-- "You'd get me to tell you about Ives. My only civilian friend."

"I'd ask if you wanted to be friends with me--" That's a moan, fuck. "Yeah?" Jason wets his lips again, copes with the tentative fucking tremor in his wet-- really wet-- lip.

"Jason. Jay." The two syllables so goddamn serious and intense and then his name, his fucking name like a balm before it could even sting.

-

Note: I'm thinking of finding a slice spot to throw up chapter 2 onto ao3. Until then, I'm dropping pieces onto tumblr tonight <3

[honeyblockm]

The Death Poem, Part Four: Legacy

Masterpost | Part One: L'Manberg | Part Two: New L'Manberg | Part Three: Empowerment

Text:

11/28/2021: Ranboo is cut down escaping

Some things I love. Some things I love more 

than that. Some things keep me sitting in this cell. Some things 

I stay on my solitary perch rising out of 

the water for.  Some things pull this sheet tight over my head, over the open viscera.

Some things shred the muslin. 

Some things leave ghosts. Some things leave me 

waiting out here. Some things watch the snow 

knit its heavy blankets over all of the roofs and windowsills and 

the rims of the flowerpots of frozen soil and still my hands 

slip through like vapor when I try to brush it off. I am still here. Have I not always

been every piece of me emerging from the bisected half, impossible

to look in the eye? There are still things left inside, bundled in cloth,

for you to take home. There are still things worth

mourning. I am still half a husband yet.

2/4/2022: Awesamdude dies in Pandora’s Vault

I am exceptional at waiting. down under this ticking absence of clocks and water gone still I sit and stare and count the cracks of obsidian shedding its dim tears not for me and not for this growing lack inside my gut staved off by the disappearing muscle of my forearms and how no one is coming for me but him. ambivalent to which one of us looks at the other afraid and angry because in the black belly of our collective wanting both of us have come back home for no one else has ever thought to live here and no one else has learned to count the ticking towards nothing. but for you. nothing is ever too good to be true except for everything as I know only absolutes and the ultimate one is if either of us thought we’d let the other would walk out of here or die then I may as well have built you a cobblestone box instead.

3/20/2022: Tubbo punches Aimsey off the Prime Path

ALL THE DEAD PEOPLE THAT YOU LOVED ARE SHOWING THEIR AWFUL FACES TODAY

their mouths are forming consonant and vowels forgetting they are vacuums 

and they are asking if it's safe enough yet 

it's never safe enough 

for both our sakes 

I hope it never will be 

5/22/2022: Fundy jumps into the L’Mancrater

It was effortless.

Did I expect that? The fluid grace of my exit, 

the speed, simple execution

of it all? I used to wonder and still

do but now that I’ve tasted air I think

I know the ease by which you 

left. One of life's many questions that

I never stop asking and now you

are finally answering.

In terms of going, this we know it to

be faster than walking; faster than rowboats 

or waiting or letting your feet carry 

you down the treacherous steps from a stiff ledge to 

who is waiting at the bottom

craning their neck against 

the day’s unflinching

8/10/2022: Connor seeks out the wrath of God

Death is the late morning; 

a languid prank. I blinked, and 

I was there. Not much to it. 

Nothing killed me, only God 

waving a hand; a break 

in the lazy breeze. 

Through the window, 

light bent. Voices, lamb cries, 

but it no longer mattered 

to me. 

9/10/2022: Quackity and Purpled take a dive off the top floor

like everything here flight is only metaphor 

for falling; these futile wings, this blooming sky;

if you could remake yourself a better man; what

would you do?; Most people make themselves kind but

that I was; before; my plans lay thus; First I grew pointed teeth, then; 

harder eyes; Failing those I built a city; measuring; how much heart

makes me a target; how much more makes me

good again; which here we can also call untouchable or

maybe; safe; once again I am wrong; I sport canines only 

to be torn out; citizens only to die; skyscrapers only for pushing

off.

10/29/2022: The Egg hosts a party

[Originally the lines are spaced to form half an ellipse, a shape you cannot do on Tumblr given the constraints of the post.]

Here again because life 

is a circle, 

after all and

there is no perfection 

without reconciliation 

and if you thought you could 

stick your hand to the 

wall and follow it out 

well 

it doesn't get much better than this

I am retribution, hunger, 

lovely misery on a dinner plate 

maggots pouring from 

the carcass like pearl strings 

no distinction made on either flank

the end of all things is the embryo 

the beginning the bird 

between them is the egg hatching 

11/11/2022: Tubbo kills Dream

Everything between our first meeting

to now:

I have lost even the snow on my fence posts

I will not lose you too. 

11/13/2022: Jack sets off a nuke

death came calling

today

it carried with it baskets, wicker

its soft feet spilled sand down the dunes

its eyes sparkled like two suns

and there was light

[wrestler-smash-or-pass]

Weekly Wrapup 12/17/23

Top five smashable wrestlers this week:

Hangman Adam Page - 86.4% smash

Hikuleo - 86.0% smash

Hiromu Takahashi - 77.0% smash

Sonny Kiss - 75.3% smash

Zack Sabre, Jr. - 72.7% smash

More stats under the cut, along with my observations, commentary, and some of my favorite tags...

Bottom five smashable wrestlers this week:

Undertaker (American Badass Variant) - 34.8% smash

Raven - 38.9% smash

Andrew Everett - 41.6% smash

Scott Hall (Diamond Studd Variant) - 43.7% smash

Drew McIntyre (Young Variant) - 57.0% smash

Most total votes this week (most enthusiasm)

CM Punk - 527 votes

Hook - 449 votes

Hangman Adam Page - 447 votes

Zack Sabre, Jr. - 363 votes

Sonny Kiss - 324 votes

And least total votes this week (least enthusiasm)

Andrew Everett - 173 votes

Scott Hall (Diamond Studd Variant) - 197 votes

Raven - 211 votes

Hiromu Takahashi - 230 votes

Hikuleo - 236 votes

The closest match was Scott Hall (Diamond Studd Variant), who lost 86-111.

Top Five Overall

Kris Statlander - 91% smash

Hangman Adam Page - 86.4% smash

Hikuleo - 86.0% smash

Rhea Ripley - 84.2% smash

Eddie Kingston - 82.8% smash

Bottom Five Overall

Vince McMahon - 3.9% smash

Kane (Corporate variant) - 10.1% smash

Triple H (Terra Ryzing variant) - 18.6% smash

The Boogeyman - 22.6% smash

Brock Lesnar - 23.2% smash

Top Women Overall

Kris Statlander - 91% smash

Rhea Ripley - 84.2% smash

Julia Hart (Spooky Variant) - 81.9% smash

Chyna - 78.2% smash

Penelope Ford - 72.9% smash

Top Men Overall

Hangman Adam Page - 86.4% smash

Hikuleo - 86.0% smash

Eddie Kingston - 82.8% smash

Kenny Omega - 82.1% smash

El Desperado - 80.3% smash

Top Tag Teams

The Golden Lovers - 80.4% smash

Best Friends - 66.7% smash

Motor City Machine Guns - 65.5% smash

Young Bucks - 43.8% smash

Average Smash Rating

Week 1: 52.7% Week 2: 57.7% Week 3: 54.4% Week 4: 62.9%

Thanks for being cool about the CM Punk poll. He's a very polarizing figure, so I really appreciate the fact that everyone was able to keep their tags civil. CM Punk received the third most smash votes to date (358 smash votes, compared to Adam Page's 386 and Eddie Kingston's 365). Punk Also received the 8th most pass votes. He just received a ton more votes than anyone else.

Onto other news, you guys massively prefer older Drew McIntyre (79.3% smash) to young Drew (57.0% smash). Tumblr maintains its reputation for being the "sexualize that old man" website!

I really struggled to find a good picture of Hook for his poll. He looks like my little brother, so it kinda felt like I was perusing my baby brother's thirst traps to show off to all the other horny weirdos on the horny weirdo website. It was easier than looking at all the Boogeyman worm photos, at least.

I'm thinking of running a few demographics polls in addition to the regularly scheduled smash or pass polls. Data on favorite wrestling promotion, sexual orientation, and age might make the poll results more interesting. Feel free to send in suggestions for other questions to ask. I can't promise I'll use all questions submitted by the community, but you guys will no doubt think of something I forget.

Some favorite tags this week

@discow1tch on Zach Sabre, Jr.: #you gotta see him twist a couple guys into pretzels before you fall for him

@samixayn on Hook: #if you love me you will bend this twink in half

@samixayn on Motor City Machine Guns: #is there not an eiffiel tower emoji or can i just not spell eiffeil.

@arthausen on Hook: #smash but he has to call me daddy and danhausen has to be there

@mancewarner on Hook: #passing bc he needs to be humbled

@pavlovean on Undertaker (American Badass Variant): #maybe if i knew where he was on january 6th and it wasn’t the capitol

@debbiechanclub on Hikuleo: #oh that's drilla in the first photo#and then he's holding a drill in the second#intentional op or not? lol (Answer: no it was not intentional. I am not that clever)

@daddywrasslin on Hangman Adam Page: #SMASH SO HARD MY NEIGHBORS NEED A CIGARETTE

@regalityandcoffee on Andrew Everett: #he looks like hed ramble to me about Pearl Jam for two hours (He looks more like a Tool fan to me, but yeah exactly)

[s1urpjuic3]

MY FAVORITE VILLAINS/ANTAGONISTS!!

I know what you're thinking: No hot takes? No lol. I thought of this because I was thinking like damn, why do I like so many villains? Then I thought,

It's not my fault; IT'S THE CREATORS' FAULTS!

Because, If bad, then Y hot?

So without further ado, My favorites from across the board in no particular order, (That would be WAYYY to hard)

Damon Salvatore & Klaus Mikaelson

Like hello? I made & based this page of Vampire Diaries, I love my goth boys so muchhh 🥰! They just like me fr fr.

Like first of all: EVERYBODY likes Klaus. Like... look at him. Honestly, I also just like the fact that they're so devoted when their in love like that's so romantic.

I think that's the reason why I like most of these characters cause Likeeee? You wanna blow up the city because someone stood too close to me in the Walmart line? Okay daddy 🙂‍↔️

The Joker (Specifically Jared Leto's version)

Ngl, I might just have a thing for manipulative men 😭? It's just something about his crazy that SPEAKS to me.

He matches my freak if I'm being honest like, he just embodies freedom and that's so attractive to me. And he just fine asf likeeee he could get it, for sure.

Ushijima Wakatoshi, Tooru Oikawa, Bakuto, and Kuroo

OMG before I say anything else, Y'all know what I just realized

OIKAWA, MONTAGUE (from Fortnite) AND GOJO IS THE SAME PEOPLE OMS THEY ARE LIKE

HONESTLYYYYYYY YOU COULD THROW ANAKIN IN THERE TOO

Likeeeee? They all look good asf in blue, they all bratty, they act tough but they bottom bitch fr fr likeeee?

But anyways, I spoiled half the list 💀

Before y'all keyboard warriors and comment #405 start attacking me, ALL THE NIGGA'S I LIKE OFF THE SHOW IS 18. I. AM. NINE. TEEN.

(I'm ngl I didn't even realize they was all 18 until I looked it up, but I think that just goes to show I like older men lol)

They personalities are just so yessssss omg especially Bokuto he a lil bit childish sometimes, but y'know he would take a relationship serious.

Anakin Skywalker

Idk about y'all, but this my goat omss. It's funny because i've never watched a Star Wars movie in my life (Wasn't allowed to) so when I came on Tumblr and was introduced to him, it really made me realize that I too, can be a switch 😂🥰

Speaking of being introduced to parasites & never having watched the show, last but not least

Ryomen Sukuna & Toji Fushiguro

Okay so I'm pretty sure I have an unhealthy obsession with Sukuna, but he reminds me so much of my self (Based off of my extensive Smau research)

I love Toji too, but 1. He's broke; ew

2. I have a thing for light color haired boys ((That sounds colorist y'all please 😭(Specifically blondes))

This one quote from Sukuna made me fall in love with him even more

It's so self-centered, but he's fucking earned it. He's the strongest curse ever. Like; big bro was so strong, he defeated all his opps, got bored, sealed himself into 10 fingers and said:

"I'll wait"

Like he's an underpaid teacher, just so he could fight stronger people. Like I loveeeeeeee a mean ass boy cause they just don't be caring, but when they meet the right one; it's up.

Anyways, I'm defff gonna make a part 2 because theirs still more I haven't mentioned! Love y'all

[recycledraccoon]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers 💜💜

ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔฅ💛💛💛💛

1. I actually really like loose leaf tea. I'm very picky about tea but once I switched to quality loose leaf it was a huge door being opened for me. I actually have a whole table with a stone tea tray on it to brew in the Chinese Gong-fu style, tho I don't sit down for a full session very often since I have limited time in my evenings due to my work hours and I'm just tired on weekends. I drink some green tea I have at work, but I don't have a good container over there to brew it so I have an abomination set up involving two Styrofoam cups and the bottom half of a tiny tea strainer. I really need to just get a proper infuser-nesting mug lol.

2. So, when I last renamed this tumblr, I was going for the alliteration and joke because I had in real life made the "my trash is your trash as long as you properly recycle" more than once. I also found the image I use as my profile picture and thought it was funny. My ao3 does not share this name but it is another animal and another raccoon and trash icon. (I've thought about changing it to my current handles/nicknames but at this point I haven't changed literally anything about my Tumblr in so long I'm being stubborn about it.)

This is all to say, neither of these animals are my favorite.

I really really like North American Badgers specifically. I bought a cheap comforter specifically because I found a cheap comforter cover that was a North American Badger. I have two North American Badger statues that I bought specifically for use as tea pets. (I use the big one on my stone table but have used the small for my traveling tea set recently.)

I do hate that initially what got me started on badgers was being repeatedly sorted into Hufflepuff way back when, but I've LONG disavowed that for obvious reasons Besides, that's a European badger.

Anyway, North American Badgers make me exceedingly happy whenever I see stuff of them, especially since they're not exactly the popular types of badgers.

3. Unfortunately, similarly to badgers, I first started my journey to liking yellow due to the previously mentioned fictional house. I didn't start REALLY loving it tho until the recent few years, and I actually own a few articles of clothing in this color now.

4. A more minor one is that I am at some of my most happiest and most content when my dog gets on the bed to cuddle with me when I go to sleep, and I can fall sleep face-in-fur. She doesn't do this very often, far more likely to sleep on the floor as she's an independent breed. If I move too much or try to move her even a little she will leave without hesitation. I have made astounding space compromises at times to achieve this falling asleep scenario.

5. Stupid jokes. I make puns at work and Verbally OUT LOUD AS WELL AS PHYSICALLY imitate the ba-bum-toosh following the jokes. Literally every time for years whenever people ask me "what's up" (usually only in relation to the type of what's up that's about one's day) I go like "ceiling, wires, insulation, ventilation-" etc. I don't go on long, a few seconds/3-4 items usually, but do always follow up with a genuine answer and return the question. These types of stupid jokes bring me endless joy and yes I do think I'm very funny.

[haleigh-sloth]

What are your thoughts on Gran Torino calling Tomura a “thing” and saying that his death will be his salvation, so Deku shouldn’t try that hard to save him? I’m worried that the story is going to end up agreeing with him in the end.

I've talked a lot about that line. Of course I can't find the most recent post I did where I talked about that line, love tumblr.

My bottom line is: It won't happen.

There are only a handful of characters who I have doubt for in my mind in terms of their arcs being satisfying to the max potential, and Tomura, Touya, and Toga are not on that list.

Gran Torino said that in chapter 309/310 (can't remember exactly which one and I don't feel like checking), and he has not been remembered/acknowledged by the protag or the narrative as a whole since.

I might be wrong and he may have shown up once?? But I'd even go so far as to say I think he's literally had 0 panel time since then, and we're on chapter 385.

Meanwhile in comparison you have Izuku remembering Tomura's pain in that one moment where he realized it was there, and remembering what he said he would do in chapter 305 MULTIPLE times, over the course of 80 chapters later. Now, which one has more narrative importance?

The thing is, the question of "can he be saved" is already there. Tomura's done a lot of damage, left a lot of death, misery, and mourning in his wake. The only positive force he's had in the manga is bringing the League together so none of them died alone, and which has resulted in half of them meeting their about-to-be-heroes. It's really not HARD to wonder "CAN HE BE SAVED??" The question is already there. Which, to me, explained why Gran Torino has been so ignored since he said that.

I know a lot of people try to play the argument of "oh the author did this good writing thing on accident", and no. He didn't. Everything in BNHA is intentional, that is a lesson I've learned. A frustrating, painful, but much appreciated lesson lol. Gran Torino saying it in the first place was intentional. Yes you are supposed to wonder if Izuku might think he has to let Tomura disappear or die. There's gotta be some level of doubt, even if it's not very convincing (and to me it's not lol). And then, Gran Torino being ignored for 80 chapters after is also intentional.

Izuku thinking about Tomura multiple times, asking if he's still there in his own body, knocking him out of his "tomb"--which Izuku referred to it as and emphasized the fact that it was a tomb--and falling to the ground with him to face him in the security of not having everyone else who wants to kill him around, is intentional.

The art is intentional. Look at the most recent panels with the two of them, and look at Izuku's general attitude toward Tomura in comparison to what it was during the PLF war arc. It's a complete 180, it's entirely different and way more full of determination than it is rage and anger. That wasn't on accident.

Anything that involves Tomura dying results in the main protagonist's arc ending in complete failure. The story has not once validated the "kill to save" take, nor has it once validated Gran Torino on anything, ever.

I use this same argument when I talk about Touya. Ochacko saving Toga--which lots of people seem to be more accepting of now, finally--will not happen without Shouto saving Touya and Izuku saving Tomura. None of those three will succeed while one of them fails on the side and mourns their failure to save someone who was crying---which those three villains are all crying. It just won't happen.

Obviously I'm not Horikoshi. But this is seriously one of the things where I am 0% concerned about where the story is headed. Tomura is the best written character in the manga, he's been rewritten time and time again, redrafted time and time again. My confidence that his arc won't be trashed at the end is really high. I am not worried.

[r6shippingdelivery]

Kiki we are choosing violence today

1, 2, 3, 5, 11, 13, 16 :)

Heyyy look, I'm gonna get cancelled again, but this time on tumblr 😎😂

The character everyone gets wrong

Jäger, hands down. It's so rare to find someone who doesn't hit him with the "poor liddle innocent baby" beam and it drives me up the wall. He's about 40 and in the special forces ffs! Glaz often gets hit with the "uwu beam" too, but nowhere near as much as Jäger.

2. A compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom

Honestly, the realest and most compelling argument is: "cause I don't like it when x character tops/bottoms and I'm the one in control of the thing when I write or look for nsfw content of them".

If you want a more honest answer, I find that Kapkan topping is the most boring possible choice and it doesn't even feel like it fits him tbh, he has that "repressed and begging to be railed" vibe to him, imo (and if it's pairing him with Glaz, it's falling into the boring, heteronormative stereotype of "artist guy has to be more in touch with his feelings and therefore more in tune with his feminine side, ergo he bottoms", which is everywhere -not only in this fandom- and is as compelling as a glass of spoilt milk to me)

3. Screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

Oh boy 😂 I'm not gonna search for those cause they're old, but in no particular order, the worst takes (imo) I've seen where:

Glaz writes romantic/emo poetry (the guy has a line saying "bullets are better than words" like wtf)

Some NH fans half-joking/half-seriously saying that since Ash dislikes NH, and Osa is trans and in NH, that must mean Ash is a terf...

People thinking Kapkan calling Fenrir "puppy" is flirting and/or has sexual intent 💀 (that was really fucking weird, people)

5. Worst discord server and why

Whenever the owner thinks they can decide who the people in there can follow on social media or not, or what interests are acceptable to like. Sadly, in my experience if some community or server describes itself as a safe place, it has about a 75% chance of being as described :(

11. Number of fandom-related words you've filtered

Too fucking many 😂 Non-comprehensive list: ships I dislike (like Frost/Kapkan or Cav/Glaz, for example, and more), bottom Glaz, bottom Tachanka, top Kapkan, Nighthaven, Kali, Ace, a few people in the fandom (aside from blocking them), anything related to C-OD, and sometimes I temporarily might filter stuff related to a very popular piece of media I have no interest in so it doesn't clutter my feed.

13. Worst blorboficiation

I'm not sure what this term means here. Is it the same as in the first question?

16. You can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

I don't understand why so many people blindly follow HCs and fanon from popular artists and treat it like canon almost. Or draw characters without a face reveal in the same way over and over and over just because x popular artist did it like that. I find much more rewarding and interesting to make up my own (by myself or with friends!) and develop my own takes on characters and stuff 🤷

[rjalker]

My Flatland characters size comparisons and the main scene in the short story.

Anyways. Flatland is public domain, so you can download it or read it online for free here from Project Gutenberg.

And you can listen to an audiobook version here on the Web Archive.

And here's another audiobook version here on Youtube.

There's a lot more audiobook versions you can find, those are just the first two links that showed up.

Do not give your money to Amazon or anything buying ebook versions of this book. They're literally free. You should only be paying money if you're buying a physical copy.

Anyways I had just typed out a whole nice summary of Flatland's social structure for those who haven't read it yet but tumblr just ate it. And I have to redo the image descriptions too. Sigh.

Anyways. Long story short: The wider your angles, the higher your social status Under the Current Regime, which is super fascist and that's the point. It's a dystopia.

The lowest class is literally called the Criminal class. It is made up of Irregular shapes, aka, disabled people, and polygons with angles of less than 10 degrees. They have no rights at all. Lets just stop there.

The second lowest class is made up of Lines, who are classified as Women. They likewise have no rights, and have a ton of restrictions placed on them to control their movements.

Just above Lines are Isosceles triangles, who are forced to be Soldiers, aka canon fodder.

The lowest three classes are routinely murdered en-masse to stop them from revolting, with many schemes in place to keep them in-fighting instead of fighting together against their oppressors.

The middle class is made up of equal-sided triangles.

The upper-middle class is made up of squares.

The more sides you have, the higher your rank, the more money and privilege you have, until you get up to the circles, who have declared themselves the rulers.

That's the basics. Anyways.

It's very funny to me that the Kel-lite official website uses a free font I use to make neopronoun pins.

[ID: An MS Paint drawing showing three characters represented by solid black geometric shapes on a white background. Each is pointed upward, with thin colored lines crossing above them to mark their relative heights. From left to right, they are: Flyssa, a line with sharp points on either end, with an angle of zero degrees, who is the shortest. Dearg, an isosceles triangle with an angle of three degrees, who is slightly taller than Flyssa. Last in Leitenant Kellite, an equal-sided triangle with an angle of sixty degrees, who is the tallest. Flyssa and Dearg's names are written in the font "Midnight", which is all caps, at a slight angle. Lieutenant Kellite's name is written in the font "Just Another Hand", which is thin and curved like casual handwriting. End ID.]

[ID: The same characters as above, now in a scene with a dark grey background. Rather than being solid black, their insides are now primarily red-purple, with dark blue and red lines and shapes for their stomachs and nerve endings. The rest of the drawing is in various shades of grey or black. Around the edges of their bodies are thin cilia like cells have. Lieutenant Kellite is sitting across a short table from Dearg in the center of the image, with Flyssa at the top, looking at Lieutenant Kellite. On the table is an almost-empty, knocked over bottle, and a half-empty bowl of fruit gelletin. Lieutenant Kellite is using his cilia to pick up peices of fruit and throw them over his "shoulder" so they fall to the floor at the bottom of the image. He is thinking to himself, "Who puts pineapple in pudding???". The bowl in front of him is half empty, with most of its contents in his stomach, where he ate two pieces of fruit before deciding he didn't like it. The wine from the empty bottle, and some other peices of food are also visible in his stomach above the dessert. Dearg and Flyssa share the same thought bubble, thinking, "There goes all our rations for the month…" Dearg's stomach has some food visible in it. Flyssa's is too small to see. There is a black border for a wall around the drawing, with a wide doorway leading off-screen on the left side, a very thin one on the right, and another thin one on the bottom right. End ID.]

Yes this is a very long post for two small drawings. I'm incapable of not explaining things.