#YOU NEED TO ADD SOMETHING DIFFERENT TO THE MIX
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In Jake Norton's words...
Among domestic clearer political skies (yes, thank God, it's improving greatly!), it is with much interest that I read Jake Norton's first blog entry about the Everest trek with S and team. You can find it here: https://jakenorton.com/reflections-on-hunku/
Here are the excerpts I found most telling, but I do encourage you to read it all. It is genuine, it is honest and it is real. This guy does not need to sugarcoat anything, indeed - not that mountaineers were this particular type, either.
'An adventurous soul with a heart of gold', who 'rose to it all, never flustered or bothered, always interested and engaged and inquisitive.' Remember (ROFLMAO), this is not Tash, the Twitter Sparkle Lounge madame, speaking from her fangirling mirador at a random OL con. This is what a man with a 30 years experience of high-altitude trekking has to say about his unlikely, but enthusiastic travel companion. And to make the unintended (but honest) Slap-an-Idiot operation even more resounding, he then proceeds to explain why this is not even remotely an indulgent judgement of the character. He could not be clearer about it:
'And, to be honest, my little coffeeshop meeting was both to suss out his interest and let him meet me (and judge me) in person, but also, more importantly, to feel him out. Guiding for me is not simply an economic thing, transactional, but about time and people and experience. I’ve done too many “off-the-shelf” trips in the past to have zero tolerance for sharing the mountains with people whose goals and values are misaligned with mine. It took but minutes with Sam to know our worlds, while vastly different, were built upon similar ideas and ideals and approaches.'
He guided S the only possible way one must travel through Asia: with an open mind and an even more open heart. They deliberately ran away from five-stars accommodation (this blogger always combines the humble and the glam, with a noted preference for the genuine 'humble') and graciously responded to the local people's enthusiasm - something that will always be the most beautiful surprise to any traveler who successfully unlearned how to behave like a tourist:
'Unfortunately for Sam, I don’t really believe in the sugar-coated version of Nepal; fancy hotels and windowed views of life are little more than television with smell. I want people to see the real Nepal, wander the back streets, immerse in the smoky incense of dawn on cobbled streets, bells chiming and dogs barking, ambling through the visceral reality that is Pashupatinath, taking in the respite of Bodhanath, embracing the comforting chaos of alleys and backways of Lalitpur.'
Reading this made me both feel nostalgic and itchy. For even if you might find me enjoying high tea, in the Bangkok Mandarin Oriental's Author Lounge, my heart will always, always fondly remember the magical nights in a humble Hmong thatched hut at Ban Somsavath, somewhere midway from Vientiane to Luang Prabang. But that is personal and I wouldn't dare mix it up with someone else's experience, so I won't insist. What I can tell you, though, is that I absolutely believe S is honest when he says he will be back: for it is not the traveler that chooses Asia - it is Asia that carefully, deliberately chooses the traveler.
These sounds are mine. They will always resound loudly in my soul, for too many reasons to list here in tearing haste. Why did I add them, though? Because once your plane crosses the Everest, the magic begins in earnest:
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Snow Miser
A Christmas gift for @midatwrtr. while I don't know you that well, and are a bit of a mystery to me. I do appreciate your style and willingness to be different. also I'd personally say your work is more of a solid 8-9.
You step into her apartment, and the familiar scent of vanilla and cherries greets you like a soft embrace. The warmth of her home, her presence, seeps into you, calming the edges of my weary soul. You let the door close behind you, the outside world and its chaos melting away. This is your sanctuary, not just because of the walls or the sweet fragrance in the air, but because of her.
“Kura-ssi!” You call out, your voice filling the quiet space. You half expect her to come running, but when no answer comes, You only smile. Instead, you hear faint grunts and the rhythmic clicking of buttons coming from her bedroom.
Shaking your head with a small chuckle, you follow the sound and step into her room—a cozy haven painted in shades of pink and sky blue. There she is, perched on the edge of her bed, her eyes glued to the screen as she navigates through Kingdom Hearts: Birth by Sleep Final Mix.
She doesn’t notice you right away. Her brows are furrowed in concentration, her fingers dancing on the controller. Watching her, you can’t help but grin. She’s come a long way since watching you do your playthroughs. It was your passion for the series that got her hooked, but now she’s just as in love with the characters, the worlds, and the art style as you are—maybe even more.
“Kura,” you say softly, my voice cutting through her focus. She jumps, startled, and turns to see you standing behind her.
“Ah, you’re back,” she says, her voice tinged with surprise but warm like sunlight. She pauses her game and gets up to hug you, wrapping her arms around you with a kind of care that always leaves you breathless. Her warmth seeps into you, spreading comfort to every corner of your being.
When she pulls back, she kisses your cheek, a soft, fleeting touch that lingers in the air between you two. “I need your help with this boss,” she says, her tone equal parts frustration and hope.
You nod, letting her lead her to the bed where you settle in front of the TV. She hands you the controller, and you glance at the screen, seeing that she’s stuck on the Braig fight. You press the pause button and start tweaking her setup—checking her command deck, swapping out weaker spells for stronger ones, and adding abilities you know will give her the edge.
She watches you quietly, her gaze curious and a little skeptical. “What is all this?” she finally asks.
“These are things to help make the fight easier,” you say, keeping your tone light. She tilts her head, her confusion softening into trust as she nods.
You finish adjusting her setup and hand the controller back to her. “You still gotta win for yourself,” you say with a small smile.
Her eyes widen, the look in them vulnerable yet determined. “That little voice of doubt in your head,” you add gently, “don’t listen to it. You’ve got this.”
Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something, but instead, she nodded again, this time more resolute. Her hands are steady as she grips the controller, her focus sharpening.
Before she dives in, you notice her key blade isn’t optimized, so you take the controller for one last adjustment. She watches you, a mix of surprise and amusement flickering across her face. “There,” you say, handing it back.
She takes a deep breath, then starts the fight. This time, she’s prepared. You sit beside her, quietly cheering her on with every well-timed dodge, every spell cast perfectly. When she finally lands the finishing blow, the screen erupts in victory.
“Yes!” she exclaims, spinning in her chair with a triumphant laugh. “I’m the best. I am the hero!”
You can’t help but laugh along with her. There’s something magical about the way her joy lights up the room, chasing away any lingering shadows. She’s still mid-spin when her eyes catch something outside the window.
The first snowflakes of the season are falling, delicate and slow. She stops, her gaze softening as she turns to you. “Leo-san, we have to go out into the snow,” she says, her voice filled with childlike wonder.
You groan dramatically, making her giggle, but you still stand and follow her. as you wonder how could you ever say no to her?
Outside, the cold air nips at your cheeks, but the sight of Sakura running into the snow, her arms outstretched like wings, makes you forget about the chill. She spins in circles, laughing as the snowflakes catch in her hair and melt on her cheeks.
“Look, look!” she calls, crouching down to scoop a handful of snow. She packs it together, forming a lopsided ball, and throws it in your direction. It lands harmlessly at your feet.
“You missed,” you tease, bending down to gather some snow of my own.
She sticks her tongue out at you, already grabbing more. “I’m just warming up!”
Before you know it, you're in the middle of a playful snowball fight. She shrieks as one of your throws lands squarely on her shoulder, and in retaliation, she charges at you, pelting you with a flurry of soft snow.
“Truce, truce!” you laugh, raising your hands in surrender.
She stops, her cheeks flushed and her breath visible in little clouds. “Only if you help me make a snowman,” she says, her voice brimming with excitement.
“Deal.”
You both work together, rolling snow into uneven spheres. Her hands brush against yours as we stack them, and every accidental touch feels deliberate, like a quiet affirmation of how much she means to you. She adds twigs for arms and uses a fallen leaf for a makeshift scarf, stepping back to admire y'all's creation.
“It’s perfect,” she declares, her face lit with pride.
You look at her instead of the snowman. “Yeah, it is.”
She catches you staring, her eyes softening. “Thank you for this,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
“For what?”
“For being here. For always being here.”
You smile and reach out to brush a snowflake from her hair. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
As the two of you rollick Sakura gets a text and groans.
"What is it Kura?" you ask.
"We have Jihyo's party to go to." She says, a bit annoyed.
You laugh and say, "Well then let's go."
Sakura pauses then says, "But babe, I'm a little hot and bothered. Can you do something about that before we get ready?"
You laugh and say, "Sure."
As the two of you walk back into her apartment Kura says, "Oh it's too warm," before turning the air on. The chill is surprisingly pleasant as she wraps herself around you. Sakura brings you in for a kiss that is equal parts passion and poise. You let her guide this dance of lust as her tongue wraps around yours first, before taking you into her bedroom. The frigid temperature further contrasts the heat building between you two as she disrobes. You follow suit as you follow her to bed. She smiles but realizes she's out of condoms. So the two of you drive to the local pharmacy to pick some up. As you finish Sakura looks at her phone again before groaning.
"babe. can you help me I need to go to the restroom." confused you follow her, only to be surprised when she bends over the toilet and presents her cute butt to you.
"We don't have time to go back home and shower, so fuck me right here then we can go," Sakura said as she seductively pulled her pants down. You fish your cock out and plunge into her. the cold of the restroom is biting as the two of you rut into each other. You groan as her tight cool walls envelop your manhood. Sakura groans happily.
"fuck yes." she coos as you rapaciously thrust in and out of her. Her cheeks begin to turn red as the lust and cold get to her. She looks at you with a coy and seductive smile,
"How is it?" she asks.
"the tightest., you respond Sakura smiles as your cock hits her womb. She smiles and then says are you close?" you nod as the two of you continue rutting in each other. She fucks herself while you near your climax. as you do you feel her walls tighten and clench you as she takes you in and out. eventually you reach your limit as do Sakura. you both climax as you look into each other's eyes. as you soften and retreat from her chilly cavern you smile and say. "Let's go frosty." Sakura rolls her eyes as the two you head home.
Eventually the two of you arrive at Jihyo's party. which means you run into me as I walk in around the same time as you two.
"Oh hey Dino," you say to me. I smile as I walk into the party with you
"Hey Leonardo. Hey Sakura, How are yall?" I ask. Sakura smiles politely and replies for the both of you.
"Chilly but happy to be here,"
#k pop smut#K-pop fanfic#le sserafim smut#miyawaki sakura#Sakura Miyawaki smut#sakura miyawaki#sakura miyawaki x reader
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can we get reader who ran away from home and is living on the streets and then toji stumbles into her after he got some stuff from the 7/11 and feels bad so he offers her to stay at his rundown apartment for a bit (can you add in some smut perhaps 🤭)
a/n : of course belleza !
✦★mdni , some angst , smut , afab!reader , loss of virginity implied , face fucking , cunnillingus , thigh biting , marking , fingering , oral , implied curse au .
PINNED PREVIOUSLY
"i don't have a home," your gaze was low, afflicted with guttural shame that twisted and churned at your stomach, or maybe it was the hunger, "not anymore, at least."
the man in front of you, frankly, made you pee your pants out of complete fear. yes, this man might be handsome, but he was menacing nonetheless. there were moments you had crossed paths, and the neon light of the 7/11 proved his features to be eerie. not his actions though, he wasn't around much but whenever he did he placed some food in front of you, and left without a word. but for whatever reason, he stayed today and began to...chat?
"haven't you asked for a job at the convinient store?"
you scoff, "don't you think i have already tried?" taking a fat chunk of the sandwich this bizarre man gave you, you continued, "they think i'm a junkie or something."
he crouched to your level, green eyes merging with your own, "you don't look like one though."
you laugh, even though it was muffled due to your full mouth, "because i'm not."
"want a job?"
you stop, ".....what—mmmgh, what kind of job?" you were homeless and poor, but your dignity and integrity was yet to be mangled. and if you had to run for your life in a few seconds because this guy turned out to be a psychopath, so be it.
"i need someone to clean my house, since i'm not home a lot. you up for it?" you exhaled your worries away. thank god it wasn't something fucked up! but hold on.
"you're...not gonna kill me, are you?" your words make him drop his head while he chuckles.
"not wasting my time with murder, c'mon." he extended his hand once he rose from the ground. your hand twitches in hesitance but nonetheless accept this kindness.
it took some months to adjust to toji's rhythm. he would come to his apartment, which wasn't anything pretty but livable nonetheless, spend three or four days around, then leave for weeks. his actions were completely shady in nature.
but with these months flying by, your relationship deepened. one summer night, when fireworks ignited the sky, you two had a heart to heart. conversations of sorrow, grief, and longing for life to be different turned into a hug and tear wiping, and this turned into you relinquishing to the desperation of closeness.
it was an unfamiliar yet thoroughly welcomed feeling of toji's tongue dancing on your cunt. you grabbed onto the strands of his dark hair as he split your folds open to insert his muscle. it was like a starved man tasting a five star meal for the first time, liking, teasing and nibbling on your skin.
"fuck you're so good, fuck keep going~" your hips moved at the compass of his rhythm. you jolt once you feel a finger penetrate you out of nowhere.
"shit! toji, what are you—oh~!"
"loosening you up." he said in-between kisses through your thighs. delight filled your heart by the blatant desire, of which has never known itself to you.
the tears you shed were due to a mix of emotions. pain, pleasure, comfort and happiness. quite the strange combo, but getting the embrace you have only dared to dream of. and you believe this feeling was mutual as toji held onto you delicately.
#❪ 𝐍𝐀𝐎𝐘𝐎𝐊𝐈★𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ❫#꒰ᐢ. ˕ .ᐢ꒱#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk#jjk smut#jjk x y/n#jjk x fem!reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#anime smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#toji x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#toji fushigro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji smut#toji x you#toji x female reader#toji x self insert#toji x y/n#toji angst#some angst . not a lot tho#jjk angst#jujutsu kaisen angst
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Did a silly
I saw that Flix might be getting redesigned and decided to do my rendition of what I'd want in a redesign! More under the cut ✦
Traits list (some are on the ref but I'll expand on them here):
I changed the palette quite a bit. I like the original black and gold, but it didn't give me space vibes, so I wanted the highlights to vary more in hue. That might be a controversial move, but I like it.
Keeping with the colour change, the blood and fire breath would probably be pink here.
The eyes are on the side of the head. This is inspired by seagulls, and sort of by their herbivory, although I would make Flix an omnivore (if not a carnivore) if I could. There aren't enough omnivores in CoS and I think it would be a better fit for Flix than herbivory.
They walk on their wings and feet like a pterosaur, just because it looks cool. Plus it makes them look a bit less like a different font of bird.
Their wings look more bat-like here. Ideally, they wouldn't; I'm just not good at replicating the canon wings. I wanted to emulate comet moth wings (because comet, like space) but I don't think I pulled it off. I could settle for feathered wings in a Flix redesign, but I have beef with feathered wings in spec evo because they're so unlikely to occur since they're such a derived structure. But CoS is already so unbelievably unrealistic that it's not even spec evo anymore, so whatever lol
The hindlegs are syndactyl, so they can perch! Their toes are also webbed, so they can actually swim! And maybe paddle around on the surface like ducks (wait that's cute... I might animate that).
They have claws on their wings. These would help with perching and perhaps climbing (like if they needed to climb a cliff instead of flying or something; maybe for stealth.
The back wings are attached to the hindleg. That's the case in the canon design too, but I bring it up here for clarity and also to add that I (and I assume the original designer) based this on microraptor's hind-wings. Microraptor beloved <333
I couldn't add them here as they'd obscure stuff even more, but I think there would be a couple more comet-shaped shards down the back. They would be floating particles, like the orbs that they keep adding to new creatures.
I gave them little star spots to make the black areas look like a night sky!
You can't see it due to the hind wings covering it, but the tail has the same gradient as the little danglies on the wings.
I just realised this version makes them look a bit like the Flickaflie, which people seem to already mix up with this guy anyway, so uh, oops. I think they're different enough.
If you have any thoughts to add to this, leave a comment! I'd love to discuss and I'm fine with criticism of this design. I might make a second rendition if I become unsatisfied enough with this. :3
#cos#creatures of sonaria#cos art#cos roblox#flixlit#cos flixlit#cos fanart#fanart#digital art#my art#art#cin draws#fan art#artists on tumblr#moving the incoming rant to the tags bc i need to save space#i find it so weird that theres the galaxy gacha AND the celestial gacha#with the exact same theme (more or less)#but drastically different pricing#feels like a barely concealed money grab#tbh cos is very greedy and kind of manipulative#which is part of why i dont play as much these days#i still like the game though
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#and so for the fifth year in a row im let down#thanks toei#imma be honest i will most likely fall over myself cheering for the new girls#because 'precure' and 'dislike' cannot exist in the same sentence#however#until they're revealed i will complain#because COME ON#AN IDOL THEME?????? THE BLANDEST MOST MILQUETOAST THEME YOU COULD HAVE PICKED#THEY ALREADY WEAR PRETTY OUTFITS AND SING CATCHY SONGS#YOU NEED TO ADD SOMETHING DIFFERENT TO THE MIX#IT'S LIKE SAYING A DISH NEEDS SPICE AND ADDING SALT!!!!!!!!!#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#precure#my post#my post (precure)
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'moogle, how do you write your first drafts?' i write them on evil mode: every current prose draft in the same document at once
#whosebaby talks#i intend to expand on explaining this process at some point; but every time i start going beyond the above it Balloons Out#but it's working great for me so for now you get the cursed version with no context#at some point start dividing them up based on criteria that feel natural to you; so the doc doesn't end up becoming an unmanageable beast#but thus far some degree of mix-and-match multi-story chaos for initially drafting out the shape of a given narrative seems Vital here#the point is to make sure you *always* have something to add to the doc; even when you're not feeling a certain story atm#and to keep exposing yourself to the stories you're drafting#so they're fresh in your head even when you need a break from one#it turns out if you let yourself take breaks from a story as soon as you need to you will likely have to do it much less often#and for much less time#and it makes it much easier to identify when you genuinely hate working on a certain project in its current state; and why#so that you can call it quits on that project entirely; or more likely identify which *parts* of it Do Not Work for You#so you can hit the bricks on that bit and try something Completely Different(tm) by process of elimination#if you feel real ass relief at a certain element being Out of Your Story; or at least not in its current spot#that's a sign that you're doing the right thing for your story and writing process instead of turning it into something you Dread#and having other things around it that you *like* adding to and expanding on; helps with identifying I Hate This Actually#anyway yes working great will continue to report#shitposting#writing tag
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i had to make a solution for this for myself, mostly because of depression, but it makes a nice How To for folks who are low on spoons or could use some help in the kitchen.
Fortunately i was a professional cook for over a decade. UNfortunately the first post i made explaining it was suuuuper long. Let's see if i can do better
So you select any protein that you can cook in a frying pan -- chicken breasts, ground beef, pork chops, sausages, steak, chicken thighs, whatever. You also select one or two types of veggie (mushrooms or tubers also work, i just did this with potatoes and carrots for dinner tonight).
[i like cooking for vegetarians, but this is how i cook for myself when i'm low on spoons - perhaps i'll do another post for meatless meals]
You'll also need some kind of oil, and a sauce or two of your choice in a bottle. All cooking gear is a large frying pan with lid (i prefer non-stick) a spatula, a cutting board, and a knife.
You cut the veggies into bite size pieces, cut up enough for two meals. One kind of veggie is fine, or you can do mix two or three
Put frying pan on medium heat with a little oil. Tubers or mushrooms or go in the pan a few minutes before the protein. 2 portions of the protein goes in the pan, about 5 minutes with lid (don't worry you can still get a good sear on both sides)
Now flip your protein if it's flip-able and add normal veggies, put the lid back on another five-ish minutes.
Take your protein out and put it with one portion of the veggies in a microwave safe container. That's going to be your lunch tomorrow. Put the other portion of protein on a plate to rest (you have to let a cooked protein sit a couple minutes before you serve it or when you cut into it all the juices run out and it goes dry - the liquids thicken as it cools, preventing this drying out if you let it rest, the goal is to serve it very warm but not hot hot)
While it's resting, pour some sauce from your bottle in the pan with the rest of the veggies and turn up the heat. A single sauce/bottle is fine, i like to get fancy and mix a couple. Two examples of personal favorite mixes are 1: bbq sauce and a hot sauce like sriracha 2: roughly equal parts low sodium soy sauce and worcestershire (makes something similar to a teriyaki sauce) A swallow of wine is almost always a great option if you want to add that to your sauce too, just add it to the pan before the other sauces so the alcohol has time to burn off.
...
Here is the important bit. While your veggies are finishing, wash your cutting board and chef knife. Then when you dump your veggies and sauce over your protein on the plate, while it is still too hot to eat, you wash your frying pan and spatula before you eat. Now the only dishes you have left to do are your plate and fork. Maybe a steak knife.
...
The whole thing takes about 35 minutes even with washing the dishes, and that includes your lunch for the next day- just pour a different sauce on and stick it in the microwave for a couple minutes (or five minutes back in the frying pan) and you have a full healthy lunch with a different flavor
You can use this technique every single meal and it yields hundreds of combinations, from pork and potatoes bbq, to salmon and broccoli teriyaki, to chicken and zucchini in a soy glaze.
It will keep you down to less than an hour of kitchen time per day total for both lunch and dinner including all dish clean up, uses the least dishes, the least effort, requires the least technique, and is, depending on what you pick out, very affordable
here are a couple more examples from this month; i didn’t take pictures of the salmon i did recently, but you get the idea
it's not super fancy, but it is easy, affordable, quick, and any flavors you want. Hope this helps some folks
Happy Cooking!
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Andrus Laansalu talked about making Disco Elysium at EKA (Estonian Academy of Arts)
"Initially, the church wasn't a focal point. There were certain characters that needed to visit this location, and I asked, "Seriously, what do we have in our church?" The others replied, "Nothing at all. Our church is completely bare—just a wheel, really. It's quite basic."
That's when I decided to unleash my creativity in the design. For example, they chose to install a glass structure at the top of the church to create a reflective surface. It was like placing an optical clock up there. Therefore, one of the most crucial aspects of designing the church was ensuring the lighting was just right to create the desired atmosphere."
"Let me show you an example of Baroque architecture, which is rich in detail. We're also designing the interior of the church based on large cathedrals. However, the foundation you use might not yield the expected results, because the church itself doesn't require such intricate details. Sometimes, it's about simplifying the design."
"I used Articy for the initial scriptwriting of Disco Elysium. The image only represents a tiny fraction of the text and choice variables involved. This system was also the reason I eventually abandoned the project after a year of outlining the script and shifted my focus to becoming a sound designer. My mind struggled to keep up with the dynamic graphic rules, but fortunately, a more talented writer took over afterward."
"In terms of sound design, it's essential to develop different layers to bring out the charm of the church as a cohesive space. Although this represents only a small portion of the overall design, each layer actually requires a significant amount of time to compose the whole....... Whenever there's a shift or a change due to the dialogue itself, you need to adjust the background sounds. Each time you modify the details in the dialogue, I have to refine the background audio, ensuring that these elements build upon each other like an intricate layer of work."
"It's funny how many scenes involve characters getting smacked in the face. My job was to recreate those, so I locked myself in the bathroom with a recorder and hit my forehead until it turned red.
As a sound designer, I really dig those unsettling, drill-like sounds. So, I mixed in creepy lectures, metal scraping, moans, and cries of pain—because I just love that stuff! (laughs)
Players will be moving through all kinds of areas, so it's super important to make the sound transitions feel natural, trying to create a more immersive vibe in certain spaces.
With all the scenes featuring big cranes, you can hear them from far away, and I wanted to capture that eerie ringing in your ears. That's going to be a thing throughout most of the game. I've found ways to really mess with players while they're playing!"
"I've come across a lot of old objects (like phones and radios) that I needed to perfectly replicate the sounds. I started to become a bit of a hoarder, buying up different models of old phones whenever I found one to add to my collection. The sound effects I can simulate from them are really impressive."
"Some of the devices don't actually exist in real life—just a mix of architecture and tech. When I need to create sound effects, I first look for something similar that exists in our world, then I try to simulate what the sound and appearance of that thing might have been like a century ago.
Towards the end of the game, there's a character carrying a fuel canister. We needed the sound of the canister, so we dug one up from our garage—it had been sitting there since it was five! I realized this would make the sound perfect. So, it had been there for 50 years, and after 40 years, it finally found its purpose.
In some places, I needed unique sound waves, and recreating them was a real headache until one day I happened to walk by a swimming pool and stumbled upon an old wartime torpedo. You can rotate the torpedo's probe, and it slowly rises up, like a proud zombie head. The sounds it made were exactly what I needed!"
🙋How did you manage to get funding?
"Well, since we're in Estonia, you just need to know a wealthy person. You don't need five people—just two who can network, hang out together, and convince them to keep investing! (laughs) Back then, we constantly ran out of money and would tell them, 'Oops, looks like we spent it all! Can you invest a bit more?' That's how we made it through!"
🙋How did you all come together to make the game?
"Luck. It usually doesn't happen this way, and that's the key difference. It has to be. If not, you couldn't create a game of this scale - well, I mean in terms of budget. But creatively, Estonia definitely has writers and artists who can pull it off. With such a small population, there are a lot of quirky folks who are good friends. We were really lucky, though - lots of fortunate circumstances came together. It brought the right people together, allowing those talented fools to collaborate with us. They had experience but hadn't tackled projects of this magnitude before. So yeah, luck is pretty important!"
Lecture experience shared by 白兔YIYANG SUN on 小红书, reposted & translated by me with her permission.
#disco elysium#inspiration#I was so touched by the parts#50 yrs later the old fuel can was found#and the torpedo does art not harm#i need to take down notes#sobbing#you guys are a miracle
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monaco kiss .wav
Lando's mildly exhibitionist dreams came true. Due to genius sound engineering, the world can now listen to him and his girlfriend having sex, without a clue it's them.
the track mentioned and referenced (no need to listen to it to get the story, go and be free): French Kiss - The Original Underground Mix, Lil'Louis, The World (credit where credit is due)... 05:30 is the timestamp
word count: 7k
warning: smut, minors DNI, p in v, oral sex, voice notes, colapinto level amount of the word "mate"
PS: i rarely do, but I fuckin love this one
If there was ever a place where Lando could spend hours and hours on end, it was the blue couch at Martin Garrix's personal studio. That piece of furniture was the peak of comfy. He'd asked many times where he got it - if only Martin could remember that.
The whole studio has a cozy vibe around it. A safe space for the F1 star to escape the ever-present eyes of the public, a timeless place where he could wind down and sit passively, while his friend digged notes for hits of the future. They'd often sit for hours in silence, just winding down.
To Lando's joy, the ultimate friend chemistry he had with Martin also worked for him and his, not-so-new-anymore, girlfriend Y/N. In fact, the moment these two met, it was clear that Y/N would quickly become a frequent member of their private recording sessions.
But this time, she had to be in a different city due to work, so it was just the boys, the olden days. Back when Lando would actually dabble in DJ'ing. Those days were long gone, but...It wasn't a rare thing that Lando would help and brainstorm ideas, chord progressions or effects applied to the tracks. What the public didn't know was that he was a loud creative force behind some elements in Martin's recent tracks. Lando had almost threatened him, urging to keep this behind closed door. He wasn't gonna Leclerc this one out.
"You look beat, mate," said Martin finally after nearly two hours of staring into track nods. Lando finally looked up from his phone.
"I'm waiting for you to be done, bro," he replied simply, reffering back to their debate regarding this latest track. A pause. "You know my opinion."
Max turned around to face him, only to find a signature overplayed smirk looking back at him. "You know what, I'm a fucking renowned producer, and you have the decency to come and tell me my track is shit?"
Lando did not flinch. This as a fairly normal way they'd speak together. "Well, someone apparently has to," he shot back, challenging Martin to flip out.
"Screw you," he replied and turned back to face his three monitors. Lando waited patiently, knowing that this was his signature first reaction to criticism. He always came around eventually. Max was his friend. And he would do everything to stop him from releasing crap. "Ok," he heard the DJ say, caving in to his doubts. "I am too deep in this track anyway. Tell me what you think."
"Mate, you said you wanted to do something more experimental. You forgot to add boring," Lando deadpanned.
Martin sighed loudly and leaned back to his chair.
"Don't get me wrong, I fucking love how you go from like - what, 120bpm?-"
"135-"
"Yeah, whatever," Lando said, not happy when Martin used his i-know-music-theory-and-you-don't tone. "As I was gonna say, the come down from the fast tempo to the painfully slow one, in the middle of the track, kind of works. It's certainly nothing like I'd heard play anywhere lately. But like, there is nothing in the production that makes it stand out? Like no real build up or interesting sound."
Lando knew it was brutal from him. But he wasn't there to pat his friend on the back. Just like Martin would never fake compliment his on a bad race. To Lando, this was peak friendship.
Martin hit quick save and closed the file abruptly, startling a minor panic in his friend. Did Lando overstep?
"Come on, mate. Don't copout now."
Martin was visibly startled. "Maybe I just need to put this one down for a moment. Lando did not know what to say to that. He might be right.
"Cig break?"
//
They were standing at the small balcony connected to main entrance to the studio, cigarette smokes mixing together. Yeah, Lando did enjoy an occasional smoke break with his friend. A guilty pleasure one might say.
"So, what was the starting point of the track?" he couldn't help but ask, still not happy to see his friend aborting something he'd spend hours on.
Martin gave him an annoyed look, but did not hesitate to reply. "Remember how the conversation I had about techno tracks being awfully predictable?."
Lando eyes shot up. "Wait, that weird chick you ran into in Germany?"
Rarely would Martin blush, but today was a lucky day apparently. A mocking snort came as a reaction from his friend. "Mate, I don't remember ever seeing you so flustered because of a girl." Few weeks ago, Martin had the fortune of meeting someone who he called "the love of his life" in a random club. And that girl had the audacity to leave him on read for hours. Him, Martin Garrix. Infuriating.
"Yeah, well, fuck you. She was real cool, alternative and reminded me of why I got into music in the first place. Let's revisit how insufferable you were when you met Y/N." Lando exhaled, forever happy anytime anyone ever brought up him and Y/N meeting. If it were up to him, that would be the only thing he's talk about. Getting to know her was like the best kind of drunk one can get. Tipsy enough to make everything fun and perfect, and not too much to get lost in it.
"Fuck off, I was never as insufferable as this," he defended, deep down knowing he might have been even worse. But, he and Y/N ended up dating. Poor Martin was desperate even for a reply.
"Whatever," Martin remarked and put his cigarette out in the overflowing ashtray. This small gesture reminded Lando why he was friends with this guy, the precious safe-space he managed to create. If there was a moment to act as a friend, it was this one.
"Shut up and let's get back to the track. We just gotta let loose a bit, that's all," he said, determined to get Martin out of the rut of his own head.
//
They'd been sitting for another hour, the sun long gone from their sight, two vodka soda's mixed from personal studio bar in, dozens of old tracks analyzed.
Martin played the middle section once again. Lando's head was mindlessly nodding into the beat they'd added and it was starting to look kind of good for the track. But it was not exceptional. And if Lando was trying to help Martin get the attention of some pseudo-pretentious alternative chick, they had to step up their game.
"Can you recall any track which uses the same level of tempo slow down? We could like, I dunno, look into why it works when other people did it and maybe something will come up." Lando often drew inspiration from other artists, something Martin usually hated. But, desperate times.
The racer watched the DJ and suddenly, as it was as if the musical equivalent of the DRS just hit him, his eyes went wide and he stood up.
"Of course!" Martin exclaimed and started pacing around the room. Lando was obviously surprised and kept still, hoping for the best, really. He watched his friend, walking back and forth around the room, deep in his own thoughts and searching for something on his phone.
"Yes! That's it," he finally said happily and put a song up to their loud speakers. The excited look he gave to Lando was almost scary. "You're gonna absolutely love this one," he continued with absolute confidence.
Lando prayed for this to be good, otherwise he was going to have to start getting worried about his friend's sanity, based on the crazy eyes.
The song started with a steady, four-on-the-floor beat (or that was what Lando had assumed). It was a typical 1980's techno track, fast, repetitive with a strong bass line.
But they were almost four minutes in and nothing that would stand out in any way was coming out of this track. Lando could not help but give Martin a doubtful look, not really getting what he was excited about. But Martin was there, nodding his head to the beat, in his own world. He must have sensed Lando's so-far-unimpressed expression, so he shot him a quick smile and gestured for him to wait. Finally, something started to happen and just like in Martin's new track, the music started to slow up on the tempo, quite dramatically. It got Lando somewhat hooked. And then-
And then! He thought he was imagining things. That his mind created sounds in his own head out of boredom.
Instead of a new instrumental added a vocal component was added. The most sensual female moan started to dominate the track, as the tempo kept slowing down. Lando felt his stomach dropped and hair and the back of his neck stand. It was sensual, almost vulgar in fact. Like some sort of elegant porn track playing over the original beat. Unapologetic. And it was increasing. What started as a somewhat socially acceptable sigh, turned into a full on orgasm moan - and as the music almost stopped, the female voice was taking on the main stage, full on peak. Thank God the walls were sound proofed. Lando cock was twitching. He tried to ignore Martin, who was grinning like a school boy first time seeing a porn video. And once the voice finally reached a peak, the music started to pick up, leftover moans cutting through the beat. Only then was Lando able to look Martin in the eye and got out of the semi-trance this track got him into. Finally the tempo fully picked up and the nine minute song was over.
"Uhh..." Lando got his initial reaction out and stared into the screen. Martin was there, unable to contain his laughter.
"You look flushed, mate, you good?" he teased, obviously pleased with himself for getting Lando out of his comfort zone.
Lando was finally getting back to Earth and couldn't help but to release a girl-like giggle. "Yeah, mate...I think if you do something like that, you will break the internet almost definitely."
What Martin could not know, because they did not have that kind of a relationship, was that Lando's phone was full of noise recordings of him and Y/N having sex. She was quite a vocal person. And he was a bit of a naughty boy, asked for a permission to record a sex tape nearly dozens of times. His girlfriend was probably right in refusing to do so, given the fact that if a video got out, it would be a disaster for both of them. But, an audio? One without any names mentioned? That was something she felt comfortable. And it as this thing Lando was using to get himself off when he was traveling alone for the past few months. So yeah, Martin hit the nail on its "head" with this one.
Lando gulped, trying to get himself back in the right headspace and not thinking of all the times Y/N screamed and moaned for him while bent over a table or laying in a silky bed.
"I fuckin' love this idea, mate. I'm gonna check with the lawyer team and see if I can go and sample this or something," Martin said, his tone indicating he was happy and done for the day.
"Yeah. This would work," Lando replied, unable to tone his voice down to his usual octave.
//
It was a surreal plane trip home to Monaco. They'd wrapped at the studio and Lando was headed directly to airport. This was proving to be unfortunate, as there was no time for him to go anywhere and take care of the problem growing in his pants. He had never listened to their voice notes in public, but he could not find any sort of self-restraint not to do so that day. Shamelessly walking around the private lounge area with a ragging boner and sex noises blasting in his headphones. He prayed for no fans showing up. At one point he was debating just beating it off in the airport bathroom. A teenager he had not been for a long time now.
And like a cruel joke, a voice memo landed in his messages from Y/N precisely at the time he as about to board his flight.
A part of him hoped it was a voice note of her jerking off. Sadly, it was not.
"Hey, my love, I hope you're all good and will make the flight. I've had such a boring day and can't wait to see you," she said a tone so sweet Lando felt almost guilty for walking around with thoughts of her on all fours, begging for his cock. It brought him back to normal, which was probably for the better. "Anyway, I'll be at home, let me know when you're coming." He smiled, loving the fact they were there for each other even in the innocent sort of way. "Aaah, what a day," she ended the voice note with a moan. A fucking tired sort of sigh. Normally, it would be a very casual thing for Lando. But did it sound like something out of their sex tapes? Of course it fucking did. "Mmmm.." And with that, the voice memo ended and Lando's boner was right back on.
//
"Hi, my love."
"Hello, sweetheart."
It was something he was proud about. Teaching her to sleep naked. Sleeping in clothes is close to committing a crime when she has a body like that. Clothes were for the outdoors anyway. It was doing something to his ego to see she fully accepted that. To his luck, he found Y/N just like he wanted - bare, snuggled up in their bed under a criminal amount of duvets, but most importantly, given his current state, still somewhat awake. She was giving his the most inviting look he'd ever seen on a human.
"Are you hitting the shower?" Y/N asked, pushing the duvet closer to her neck, as if to cover herself for some reason. Lando found that more than amusing and shook his head.
They'd exchanged few pleasantries, mundane questions while we was undressing and finally crawled into the bed with her. As a natural move, she shifted, letting him to be the big spoon. He caressed her hair before stepping in. Changed his tone from casual to bedroom. Finally.
"You and me baby, just us. How it's suppose to be."
Flirting was a second language to Lando and he was not afraid to use it.
"I see you kept the bed warm for us," he said, warmed his hands by blowing his hot breath on both of them. When he was sure that his body adapted from the chilly outdoors air to their hot flat, he started tracing lines on her body and pressed his crotch to her ass, to test her reaction, and see if he got lucky and caught her in the right mood.
He wouldn't be able to see it, due to the fact he was spooning her from behind, but her eyes shot wide open as his ragging boner pressed on her and a cheeky smile crept in. She answered by moving back to him, and arching her back. Loud, horny sighs from Lando followed.
"I see you've been a good boy, am I right?" she whispered sensually.
And fucking yes, he was a good boy. She'd often reward him when he manage to obstain from jerking off when they were suppose to see each other. If he had been hard before, they would need to come up with a new name for what he was experiencing after hearing his hard work being acknowledged.
He gulped, trying to keep his some cool in his voice. "You can guess twice," he challenged and pushed his body towards her, squeezing his dick between their bodies. She giggled and turned on her back to face him. Tried to kiss him slowly, but he was having none of that. Once the door was opened, he took the lead and kissed her with all of his pent up hunger. His hands were holding her jaw in place, as if she was going to slip away - which was the exact opposite of her plans. Soon enough she kissed back with similar urgency, roaming her hands on his chest and pulling his ever-so-curly hair.
"I need you," she whispered when he reached away to take in some air.
He grinned, happy to have some sort of level of upper hand, given how down bad he actually was.
"Have you been a good girl, sweetheart?" he asked, expecting the same answer he gave her. His cheeky fingers started exploring her upper thighs.
She waited a moment. "No, I haven't," bit her lip. This took Lando as a surprise and he opened his mouth in disbelief.
"Well, would you look at that..." he said, secretly loving this side of her. Horny little angel, getting herself off. In his mind, it was like she'd been training for him. He gripped her thigh, making her gasp.
"I think you might still find some evidence on the sheets," she whispered, and it was exactly that sound that was a turning point of Lando. He flipped over to tower her and slammed his lips towards hers. He opened her legs with his hands and started exploring her core - and it was exactly as she said it. Still wet from her on fingers, as he'd imagined.
"Well then, we'll do this on my terms. You understand?" he said in a playful tone. "What are you?"
She knew what answer he was looking for. "Bad girl," she sighed as he fingered her in a way that could not be described as gentle. Soft moans started escaping her mouth and that was the main thing Lando was longing for.
"And what am I? For keeping myself full for you?" he asked, trying to keep her on the edge with his moves.
Her eyes were now shut and her arms locked around his back, same as her legs. "Good boy," she sighed.
"Exactly. So do me a favour," he said, kissing her again, "be loud for me tonight. Make my ears ring and wake up the neighbours. Otherwise I'll make sure you don't get what a good girl gets." Both of them knew there was not a single cell in Lando willing to keep his empty promise. She was going to finish multiple times and he'd work for it the whole night if he had to.
Back arched. Lando's fingers doing the God's work. "Yes," she almost choked on her breath and let out an honest and beautiful sound.
It was already getting too much for Lando, he stroked himself few times and then slid into her wet cunt, as if it was his home.
And boy, was it better than any home he'd ever know. He warm wet, almost dripping cunt welcomed him in the sweetest of ways. Lando waited few seconds for both of them to adjust before he gripped her legs and swung them over his shoulders. It was a dance they'd practiced countless times before. She knew to clench her legs and provide support for him to be able to fully start launching into her.
He gave her one more lustfilled look before he thrusted for the first time. The thing he was specifically looking forward was the way how the breath escaped her throat in almost surprised way - as if she was not expecting this to happen. Pure pleasure overruled any thoughts he was having pretty quickly. The way her walls clenched over him was a sensation very few things could compare to. It was so easy to start moving faster and harder. He lived for the sight of her, lying down beneath him, eyes closed and finally, after few more perfectly placed movements, first moans started to escape her lips. He wanted more, tonight he needed it all. Speeding up, gripping her legs tighter. And with that, he watched as her boobs were bouncing back and forth, a sight so glorious he had to put one of his hands on it. All that she was somehow trying to hide in, started to come out. Face stuck in a scream like position, hands gripping Lando's arms and the most glorious of it all - the silent moans growing into muted screams. And once he added even more speed, those turned into unhinged screaks. He didn't even notice him own mouth stuck open. Breaths were getting heavier and heavier, drops of sweet sweat were falling on her torso and slowly Lando moved his hand over to from her boobs to the crease of her neck and squeezed just a little bit, the way he knew she liked. He didn't mind that the sound she made got a little muffled - he could feel the sound coming from her throat before it left her body.
And then finally, Lando felt almost a hot liquid hit his dick and gradually bounce over to his lower stomach as he moved even quicker than before, knowing well enough that when this happened to her, the incoming orgasm was about to be glorious. He thrusted, fully focused on her expressions and loud screams.
When her release happened seconds later, he nearly came himself. By some miracle, he managed to hold it of for just few more minutes. He kept thrusting, while he felt her body collapse momentarily, complete hard shut down. More liquid came out of her and Lando wished he could fuck and lick her at the same time.
And just like that, she was back again, panting hard and finally, eyes open once again. Her fucked out face challenging him once again. She smirked and tried as much as he could to keep up his tempo. It always took her one orgasm to bounce back and become more active. Lando wished he could go on for hours, but his dick almost begged him to allow the release. He wasn't gonna deny himself pleasure tonight.
"Say my name," she said in a loud demanding tone, stern look on her face. He wanted to chuckle, always finding it amusing how she went from almost a comatose princess to a challenging boss girl in seconds. After he made her come, of course. But Lando's mind was truly getting blurry at that point. He kept saying her name as like some sort of prayer as he carried himself to the heavenly release. It was the ultimate relief, dipping in a hot water, getting charged with electricity, tasting the sweetest drink, stepping into the hottest sunshine. Whatever kind of pleasure Lando could think of, nothing would ever mount to finally releasing it into her, especially after a long, oh so long, build up.
And with that, he fell next to her. Heave panting on both sides of the bed, before either of them spoke.
"All good? Are you ok?" he asked, just like he always did after they'd slept together. The thought of her not having a good time haunted him. He was aware that it sometimes came out more anxiously than he intended to, but who has a proper working brain after a sex session.
Y/N turned at him, blissful smile on her lips. "Oh yeah, baby. Love when you come home like this."
He smirked, getting some of the blood back to his brain. "Hmm, I also love coming home."
Their fucked out minds chuckled at the stupid joke. He gathered all the remaining strenght, got up and cleaned her up.
"Oh God, I've missed you," she complained into the no quiet room, still filled with sex air.
"You have no idea, how much I did, sweetheart."
//
It had been a good few weeks before Lando found himself once again in Martin's studio. This time Y/N was able to join him on the iconic couch. They sat, her legs relaxed over his, Lando's hand stroking her shins innocently. Physical touch boy if there ever was one.
Light banter laced the evening, few sips from Martin's signature vodka sodas and general lightness of the company were bound to end up with Martin sharing his latest relationship news. The alternative girl he met in Germany? Yeah, that was over. However, the track was definitely not.
"Ok, but like, I'd never seen you this anxious about a new track before," Y/N spoke, feeling like there was something these two guys were walking around, somewhat afraid to say hat it was.
Martin and Lando shared a look. There was not a single bone in Lando's body that was afraid of Y/N reaction to this track. He way in fact dying to know what Martin has done with it in the past few weeks. Martin was not allowed by his label to send any demos, only to show them in person. Well, he was not even allowed that, but it's not like they were there with them in the room. Martin raised his brows while looking at Lando, as if to look for a permission. Lando nodded, secretly looking forward to seeing what Y/N had to say about their newest idea.
"Well, I'm actually still working on a track we tried to finish when your boyfriend was here the last time," he said reluctantly.
"Yeah mate, I'm stoked to hear what you recorded," Lando said, trying to add some entusiasm to Martin's speech.
Martin's face formed a small frown. "Well, I'm worried, mate. Listen for yourself, it might be just me hearing this track for too many times. But, I'm afraid it does not work."
This took Lando by surprise - he was full on expecting a hot, sexy banger.
Martin did not add anything and upon Y/N's plea for finally play it and with zero protests on Lando's side, he did just that.
So they listened to the almost six minute track. The instrumentals were basically in the exact same state as when Lando was there for the last time. Intrigue filled his body as the tempo slow down came - it must have been time for the moaning to start. He could not wait to see Y/N's reaction. Was there a chance she would actually be mad and consider it tacky?
He didn't let her out of his sight, no matter how much Martin tried to catch his eye. Y/N sat there, her usual focused face on, as per any other time they'd listen to a new track.
And just like that, it took Lando only few bars of the part with the moans to understand where Martin's disinterest came from. This wasn't the right vibe. There was absolutely no comparison to the original track they'd based this on. It was a weak mockery of that whole idea. Sounded cheap, almost fake and with no atmosphere whatsoever. A face of slight disgust formed on Lando's face and he temporarily forgot he was watching Y/N for her reaction. They finally exchanged a look with Martin, both knowing this was just not working. While the girl moaning into the track had a perfect pitch, something was just not right.
Only when the moans and sighs part of the track ended he noticed the look on his girlfriends face and started actually feeling embarrassed. Will she think this as his idea and that he is a pervy simpleton? That he actually likes this?
He started his defense before she'd have any time for a reaction.
"That's not good, mate," he stated the more than obvious. Martin nodded, his expression hard to decipher. "It was not meant to sound this cheap."
"Yeah, don't know what to tell you. We recorded this with like two other producers in the room, this girl is apparently a good porn actress with a perfect pitch. But it sounds just like that. Like, I wanted to create a hot track, this is just cheap and kind of sad."
Lando gulped, almost fearing Y/N's reaction.
And boy, was she staring at him. It almost caught him of guard. Definitely silenced him. If he had to describe it, it would something along the lines of shooting arrows. Lando felt very small. But then, like by some sort of miracle, the corner of her lip turned up and a cheeky smile started to form. Martin knew more than interfere in their silent conversations and turned around to leave them be. A shot of confidence went though Lando's bloodstream and he gave Y/N a questioning look. Almost wanting to challenge her to say something. She shot her eyebrows up and tried to bite her smile away. Lando played dumb and shook his head, as if he did not understand. With that, she nodded toward his phone that was lying next to his hips. Lando's eyes went wide and his heart rate went up. Is she really suggesting this?
Out of nowhere, her look still firm on Lando - who stopped blinking a long time ago - she spoke, probably more to Martin than her boyfriend.
"I love the idea, and I think it could catch on really well. But like you said. You can't fake that if it's suppose to be good. Any girl will se right through this anyway."
Was Lando about to fall in love all over again?
"So what, am I suppose to pay someone to fuck in the studio?"
The silence that followed was a heavy, awkward, hot and hilarious one. Many looks were exchanged between the three of them before, as they say, all the pennies dropped.
"Oh my God," Martin exclaimed. Neither Lando or Y/N reacted in any verbal way, however Lando did raise his eyebrows in order to stop his smile from growing. Failing at that miserably. Suddenly, he was more than aware of Y/N legs near his crotch.
Martin shook his head, as if he became prudent out of nowhere and spun on his chair few times, most likely thinking it over. Lando was about to step in to ease the tension, but Y/N was faster.
"It would be the easiest way to test if the track works, just saying," she commented and Lando tried to stay as still as possible, almost worried that if he moves to much, he might wake up.
To potentially have his girlfriends orgasm voice blasted anonymously in clubs all around the world was doing some thing to his semi-exhibicionist persona, which he had to keep buried deep down. Things he had a lot of trouble admitting to outloud.
The conversation was continuing, no matter how spaced out and horny Lando became.
"Ok, say it works. Are you ok with this staying on the track?" Martin asked Y/N only. He knew his mate well enough to figure he'd be more than fine with it.
Y/N seemed to think about it, in a serious way, for few moments. The air felt oh-so-heavy to Lando. Please, say yes. Both of you.
"As long as it stays anonymous and nobody else, not even your label ever finds out, I say we go and give it a try," she answered and turned over to her boyfriend. He knew the look she had on her face more than well. It was the same one she'd have after agreeing to press record on their personal sex voice memos. And it was doing things to him.
It looked like Martin was coming around with the idea.
"Fuck it, ok then. I guess, I'll just press the button and give you guys some space in the recording room. But like, bare in mind I only need her, not you," he hinted over to Lando, "and for the sake of our friendship, I'd really appreciate if you kept it clean in terms of dirty talk. I don't want this to be the reason I died. Also no...mess please. Ugh."
Lando downed his drink, still unable to believe this was happening, and finally spoke again. "I'm sure there is a way to make sure we get only Y/N's voice."
Images flooded their heads - for Y/N very much wanted, to perfectly contrast Martin's reaction, who was sitting on the complete opposite of the excitement spectrum.
"Ok, let's go with it before I change my mind," Martin said and began prepping the recording room.
Lando squeezed his girlfriends hand, to make sure she was really ok with it.
"I love you," he whispered, unable to hold it in.
"Me too. I'm happy you don't think of me as slutty or perverted," she replied, hint of shame for the first in a long time creeping on her face.
"I would never....We can stop whenever, if you stop feeling it, ok? Please promise you'll let me know."
There was a look on her face he couldn't put a name on. "Thank you."
Martin coughed demonstrateively. "Lando, come over. I'll tell you what to do." Lando eyebrows shot up once again. "Not like that, with the recording, you weirdo," Martin exhaled, already regretting the decision.
//
"So, the recording is on, have a good one, I guess," were Martin's last words before Y/N was about to have a series of little deaths.
And with the click of the door, they were alone. Deep dark silence. Never before has she seen Lando stare at her this much like a hunter would at his prey. His good name was on the line. Maybe not for the whole world, but he had to show his best bud he can make his girl come. And perhaps something more than that.
The room was small, light dimmed out.
"So, what do you have in mind?" she asked softy, still not quite in the same feral mood Lando was in. He crossed over the distance between them slowly to put a finger on her mouth.
"No words, remember?" he reminded himself probably more than her. His plan was never to fuck her here. She'd soon find that out.
With ease and confidence only those who kissed each other countless of times, he locked his lips with hers. His hand in the back of her hair, pulling, not gently. Her tongue rolled over his and she bit his upper lip, to return the favor perhaps. Her head bent back and he follow the train to her collarbone with pecks. With ease, he started walking her over to the chair here the recording artist would usually sit. Today, she'd be the main act and he her muse. She was regretting not wearing a skirt that day. He saw no issue when he pulled her jeans down. He was already hard and just had to squeeze himself for few times, a mindless action. No doubt in his mind that before the night calls quits that day, he'd see his own release. She noticed his moves and tried to get in on the action, only to somewhat wake him up from his own selfishness as he stopped her hands reaching his crotch. Another head shake - hopefully, this time she'd get the hint.
Her eyes were filled with hot wanderlust and with that, she gave up on trying to take the lead. He smiled and got rid of her panties as well.
Two strong hands popped her up on the round chair with no back rest. One last kiss on the lips before he knelt down. Stomach tingled with anticipation. Lando was taking his time, slowly kissing his way up her legs. The ever so blue, green and whatever colored eyes glowing with lust. He stopped at the spot where thighs and knees bend, his tongue finally out, as if for a practice run. Only recently he found out about her secret soft spot. He watched her face relax and give in, first pleasure arriving. He was the moon and her body a shore, waiting for the waves.
Long heavy breath. Lando wanted, needed more. He progressed further and further, until the only place left to go were her folds and wet core. But before that, he didn't for get to leave few bite marks on her upper thighs. Quick catch of breath and her hands buried in his curls. Watching him as if the gods had sent him to ruin her.
And they might have. Normally, he's utter few cheeky lines before dipping his tongue deep into her, but the looks were all he could use this time.
Relaxed and come for me, baby. Drip all over this chair and make them know I can make you scream.
His tongue could as well be completely dry and it would not matter. They way how he was all over her got her wet anyway. His moves were never the same, yet they always worked like magic. He twisted, pulled in and out and all over. Slight bite at her less sensitive folds. Clit suck. And then he called upon his fingers to assist. She was barely sitting on the chair, legs fully rested on his shoulders, priorities loud and clear. As were her moans she didn't notice at first. She had to support herself with her arm, squeezing the weak leather top of the chair. Her other hand was busy with pushing Lando's face towards her. First tide started to arrive. Lando drew his head back to catch some breath - and she let him, because his fingers became the main act. He made sure to hold the tempo, knowing that would work like volume increase button. Was there a more beautiful sight than watching a woman you love hit the highs of life? Lando very much doubted. Judging by the way her face clenched, she must have forgotten the why and where. Her throat served like a gateway to pleasure sounds. And she screamed, more and even more once he sucked her clit again.
They call it little deaths because it might just be the only accurate description of what washed over her. If wasn't often he'd go down on and not fuck her shortly afterwards. Since that was out of the picture, she focused fully on his moves, knowing this was the peak.
He felt her relax after a particularly loud scream. Coming down to Earth once again. She opened her eyes and he smirked. He knew, by the way she tried to steady his breath and the slight movement of her supporting hand that she considered it "job done". She nodded and head and he shook his once again. Her puzzling look quickly replaced by a lip bite as his mouth traveled back to her core.
One more round, one could say Lando's ego was becoming the main hero of this story. The thought of somebody having to go and listen to another round of him destroying his girl with pleasure was an intoxicating one.
//
Martin's track was an instant hit and minor shock to the public. Never before has he released something so explicit. Y/N's screams were out for the whole world to listen and it did a wonder to their sex life. It was something else to fuck and blast your own love soundtrack on.
There were two main versions release, one less explicit, for the DJ's to play around the radio during the day and for club goers to party to during the night.
Lando stopped counting how many times it happened that in the middle of the day he'd hear this song around the paddock radio. Whenever he did, he would send Y/N a photo with a cheeky wink, and she'd do the same when she had the luck of listening to her own voice in public like that. A nice, somewhat innocent tradition for them only to understand.
//
Keep you friends close and rivals closer. That's how Lando ended up at one of the many celebrations of Max Verstappen's title celebrations. Little did he mind, secretly loving the fact the pressure was off him for a moment. Expensive alcohol flowing freely also helped.
He found himself sitting in a VIP booth across from Max, by some stroke of luck, alone. And of course, that was the first time he slipped up. Somehow he managed to avoid a situation when someone who knew him well was around when Martin's monaco kiss came up.
"the recording is on, have a good one, I guess"
Martin decided to keep his own line in the intro, only later admitting he'd re-recorded it out of his own insecurity. Which Lando found very amusing, given the fact him and Y/N only needed one take to get it right perfectly.
His stomach dropped a bit when he heard the now iconic opening line. Shifted a bit to regain some composure. Sipping a drink might help to hide his slight panic and lack of any real light did not allow his blushed cheeks to go noticed.
Across from him, Max was nodding his feet to the beat of the track. The conversation grew stale a moment while, so Max's complimentary comment on Lando's friend's track must have been intended as an innocent ice-breaker.
"what do you have in mind"
Another line kept in from the recording. Y/N's real voice hidden under many layers of autotune to keep her identity anonymous. As per her wish and Lando's secret regret.
The tempo started to slow down. Anyone would remember the track by heart if they'd listened to it the same amount of times as Lando had. Words were lost on him and he did not find a response to Max's comment. Very unusual from Lando. He sipped his now empty drink, hoping more liquid had magically appeared. Max noticed something was off. And then the key jump, straight out the book Diet Pepsi took inspiration from. Followed by the peak moan, or maybe a scream, from his girl for everyone to hear. It was not supposed to be this arousing. Max tilted his head and after another few beats, his intense stare aimed at his rival/friends went wide.
Lando tried to stop his smirk. He really did.
Max's mouth went open and he stopped his breath before uttering a simply lovely, slightly astonished: "No way."
Lando averted his gaze to the crowd below in order to avoid Max, who chuckled and took a big gulp of his not-empty glass.
If the lights went on, everybody would be able to see a bright red Lando. He was never going to break his promise about keeping this a secret, so he did not comment. But he grinned at Max's nod of approval.
He excused himself as went to the bar. Searching for his girl.
Light brush on her waist made her turn, wonder in her eyes easing when she saw it was him. They were both in the same horny headspace.
He leaned in and whispered, as much as one can whisper in a club, the last few beats of their track playing. "You sound so hot, baby. I'm so down bad for you."
Tipsy, she shot him a wide smile and mouthed a silent "i love you".
#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris fic#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris angst#f1 x you#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 smut#f1 driver x reader#f1 driver x you#formula 1 smut#formula 1 fic#lando norris fanfic#f1 imagine#formula 1 oneshot#formula 1 imagine#f1#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 fics#f1 fic#lando norris oneshot#lando norris one shot#ln4 imagine#formula 1#formula one x reader#formula 1 fluff
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Hi!! I've watched the scene where Sarah is starving and Rafe is pacing around and knowing he has cash in his pocket and doesn't care that his sister is starving and pregnant. I can't help but imagine it if it was reader, and they hooked up once twice or however you see fit, and she's pregnant with his baby.
Would it be any different? Could you write something about that? Take the idea and run with it because im bad at articulating 🤣
Oh yeah, Rafe is a class-A asshole, but he might show just a little remorse if the baby is his.
Love the requests, keep sending em' in!!
The Moroccan sun was beating down on the group relentlessly, sweating you out and drying you up with the shine of its bright light. The only reason your sweat wasn't dripping off you was because it was quickly soaked up into the modest fabrics around your head.
You'd been travelling tirelessly for the last few days, dangerously too, if you might add. The boat nearly capsized multiple times just trying to make it to Morocco. As if the boat ride wasn't abhorrent enough with your seasickness....and morning sickness...
The constant smell of saltwater and the rocking of the ship had amplified the awful experience and you would spend the first hour in the bathroom regurgitating your insides every morning. It was not fun.
None of the pogues know you're pregnant. Although, Cleo was on to you. One pregnancy was more than enough for the group to worry about. You figured this was something you'd keep to yourself despite the fact the father is currently trekking with you through the hot sands.
The day was only getting hotter. You're thirsty, your lungs hurt and it felt like your own organs were weighing you down. You naturally began to fall behind the group, little by little until the gap was hard to ignore.
"Come on, Y/n. We're not far from the city, just a few more miles." Pope encouraged but it triggered a laboured breath. You're exhausted. A small smile crept on your lips when you noticed John B holding Sarah's hand the whole time, never letting her out of his sight.
For what feels like the eighth time, Rafe looks over his shoulder, more annoyed than ever. "Jeez, would you hurry it up?" You scoff, mustering up enough energy to kick up some sand at his legs. "Nice. Real mature, Y/n." His sarcasm rolls off his tongue and you ignore him as you walk past him.
Once you finally made it into the city, you all needed something to eat. Sarah wasn't feeling so great and neither were you. Babies are nothing but greedy entities consuming all the nutrients you need.
You leaned against the cool rock wall, watching the others run off to help themselves to a five-finger discount. With your eyes closed, you tried to distract yourself from the ache in your abdomen. Not sure if it was the baby or your hunger, possibly a mix of both.
Without even realizing it, you let a hand rest lightly over your stomach. It was still early, you weren't showing and you thank god.
"We're wasting time!" You hear Rafe yell, it doesn't even faze you. He's somewhere near you when he mumbles to himself, "Sitting around on the streets when we should be going after Groff, unbelievable."
What was supposed to be a quick glance your way turns into an elongated stare. His eyes raked over your posture, your shut eyes, brows crunched in distress. He slowly looks down at the placement of your hand.
"Y/n." He says, tugging you into a corner out of sight from the others and you swat him. He shockingly accepts the reprimands and backs off, taking a step back. "What do you want, Rafe?" Your arms cross, waiting for him to say something.
"Is it mine?" Your arms fall slowly, caught, but you deny it. "I don't know what you're talking about." Hardly able to take two steps away before he's barricading you in the corner with his body.
"Don't bullshit me, Y/n. The baby. Is it mine?" You chew on your lower lip, avoiding his chilling gaze. Apparently, that was enough confirmation. "How long have you known?" He takes on a defensive stance.
How the hell were you supposed to know the answer to that? The last week alone has blurred together in memories of rough waters and dry deserts.
All you knew was it happened sometime between the various times you and Rafe swore it would be the last time you fooled around. Unsure if it was the time on his yacht, in the back of his truck or one of the dozen times you somehow ended up in his bed when you swore you were only in figure eight for a 'walk'.
The group had no idea the two of you had been involved with each other aside from the occasionally tense argument, but anyone could admit the two of you can't seem to stay away from one another.
"I dunno, a month maybe?" He pressed both hands to his forehead, fingers spread wide, and slowly dragged them down, smearing the tension all the way to his chin.
"Let's go." His grip on your hand forces you to follow his long strides between the bustling kiosks until you land inside a Delhi. You're too stuck inside your own mind to process what was happening until you watched Rafe lift the bottom of his shirt, revealing a fanny pack with a considerable amount of money.
"Of course. Of course, you had money this whole time! Of course, you let the others go stealing--!" He hushes you as the owner flashes you a look of concern, "Listen, I'm not the one who told those pogues to go looting. I've got money for more important shit than their sad jewel hunt." He explains, paying for the items with a small nod of gratitude towards the man.
Turning to you, he placed a sandwich in one hand, and a cool bottle of water in the other. "This," He starts, his palm gently resting against your stomach. For the first time in a long time, his brows relax and his gaze softens when he looks at you. "This is more important."
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x you#rafe cameron smut#rafe drabble#outer banks smut#rafe obx#outer banks imagines#rafe smut#rafe cameron blurb#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe blurb#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#bsf!rafe#rafe cameron drabble#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron fic#drew starkey smut#drew starkey#obx fic#outer banks#outerbanks rafe#obx#dilf rafe#dilf rafe cameron#baby daddy rafe
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Choso Kamo is desperate enough as it is, always eager to be touched by you, to taste you on his lips—it's hard to handle. Add a (rather expensive) block of aphrodisiac chocolate to the mix and you think you've made a mistake.
You told him to take only one, and to wait for you to get home to do so. You wanted to take them together and see if what the packaging promised was any true — that you’d be ‘sweating for sex’ in fifteen minutes flat.
But he didn’t listen, or didn’t care to listen, because you’re still out for lunch with your friends when your phone rings and Chosos contact lights up your homescreen. You have to excuse yourself to take the call and answer with a sweet, unsuspecting ’hey, baby,’ that makes Choso nearly orgasm on the spot.
“You have to come home.”
“What?” You think maybe you’ve misheard him over the chatter of the sweet little cafe you’re stood in.
“Please, baby, please come home. I need you so bad it hurts, I’ve cum twice thinking about you because I didn’t want to bother you but it’s not enough and I’m hot everywhere and my stomach hurts because I need you so bad and—”
He never listens. You grumble the entire way home, your annoyance sparking flames over the burning heat in your core at the thought of your pretty boyfriend at home quite literally sweating for sex. You have to remind yourself to be upset at him for not listening because otherwise the thought of him, hot skin stuck to your bedsheets as he fucks into his fist wishing it was you, floods your mind instead. You wonder if he fucks different like this, if his typical gentle touch will be replaced with something needier—you’re of half a mind to deny him his pleasures, but that would be a disservice to yourself as well.
When you step through your front door, you’re hit with the heavy scent of sex that usually permeates the room after you and Cho have been particularly energetic in between the sheets. It’s confusing, because how can one man fuck himself enough to change the temperature of the house? But it also goes straight to your cunt, a desperate sort of need blooming in your stomach that mirrors your boyfriends.
The house is quiet, though, despite the fact you half expect Choso to be crying with need. Maybe he finally got it out of his system, called you home for nothing and is probably too spent to fuck the new need out of you.
But as soon as you step into the bedroom, you’re met with the sight of your beautiful other half laid out on the bed as he fucks his fist so desperately in one hand you’re surprised his speed isn’t painful. His other hand is lifted to his mouth and caught between his teeth in a pathetic attempt to stifle his moans—the walls of your apartment are thin, at least he’s of sound enough mind to consider your neighbours.
When his eyes lay sight on you, though, his crazed strokes still and he’s climbing off the bed in barely a second to bee-line straight to you.
“Take a breath,” you manage as he grasp your hips and starts manhandling you to the bed.
“Can’t,” his voice is heavy.
“Cho—“ you’re pushed down onto the bed, your lover following to climb on top of you and attach his lips to the column of your neck.
“I need you.”
And need he does, you can feel it in the way he slips your clothes from your body with such intent you barely notice it happen. You can feel it in the way his kisses light fire against your skin as he works down your chest, ribs, stomach, hips and finally reaching your aching cunt.
A swipe of two fingers through your folds is enough to tell Choso you’re as needy as he is… almost. You aren’t quite soaked in sweat and nearly teary-eyed with want. But you’re fucking soaked.
“Did you eat them too?” He asks, voice laced with want—he’s desperate for a taste of you, and allows himself a moment to swirl his tongue around your clit as your eyes widen in response.
“No… I just—fuck, Choso, right there.”
You could kill him for pulling away from you, your wetness glistening on his pretty lips as he pouts at you. “Need you. I’ll make you feel so good, I promise, and I’ll eat you after I just…”
“Fuck me, Cho,” you allow him, partially because you don’t think you could go much longer without his length completing you.
“I love you,” he whines as he rights himself and slaps his cock against your pretty pussy a few times before pushing into you with a gasped “I love you I love you I love you.”
And it might be the raw intimacy speaking on your behalf but you swear you can feel his love through the way he fills you with his cock. You’re two halves of a whole and finally conjoined through overwhelming pleasure… the stretch is uncomfortable, sure, Choso has a length he doesn’t know how to handle, but you don’t care when the way he practically drools once he bottoms out is so desperate.
And god does it feel good when he starts to move. He’s so eager and desperate that rather than the gentle thrusts he usually makes to test the waters of your comfort, he’s straight into rutting against you like he’s in heat—which, in a way, you guess he is.
Choso pulls your thighs up between the two of you and works himself into a mean mating press that has him reaching depths inside of you he’s never kissed with the tip of his cock. He can hardly see straight, pussy drunk already and babbling away about how good you feel wrapped around him, how he’s yours, all yours and always yours.
“All for you,” tears prick at his eyes the closer he comes to his fourth or fifth climax of the day—the sun hasn’t even begun its descent. “My cock is for you, my cum, my heart—I’m all yours I belong to you, please take me, god you take me so good.”
He’s crying. Desperation stains his cheeks as he distracts himself from the hot tears by kissing you with trembling lips as he tries to push impossibly deeper into you. Your legs ache, you’ve never been split open so deep and you’re not sure you’ll ever stop grieving the loss when Choso finally pulls out of you.
You don’t think you’ve ever cum this fast either, but the moment Choso starts holding his breath and knitting his eyebrows together as he does when he’s about to finish, you feel that wave of dizzying euphoria wash right through you—from head to toe you’re hit with pleasure like waves crashing on the shorelines, and you shake underneath your lust-drunken lover.
“Oh baby,” he fucks you through it, chases his orgasm so strong it hurts, tightens his balls and makes him wonder how he’s not cumming dry yet. “Feel so good, I’m sorry I know it’s a lot I’m sorry, I love you I love you.”
It’s a blur, but you feel full with his cum and never do you want him to pull out. You think you’re still shaking, but Choso has you fucked so deeply into the mattress that you wouldn’t be able to tell even if you had the energy to care. He’s still twitching inside of you, each minor movement sends static up your spine. You might’ve just seen heaven, you think.
And with a shaky breath, and pupils so dilated with need he looks high, Choso presses a wet kiss to your lips, pulls back and in as sorry of a tone he can muster:
“Im sorry, baby, I need more.”
kinktober tags: @medusamara5 @echodead @curiositykilledthecatx3 @hirainne
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#choso smut#choso x reader#choso kamo smuut#choso kamo x you#choso kamo x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#kamo choso#choso kamo
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Bruce looking past the fact that (recently adopted) Danny is a powerhouse and recognizing that he has other skills also. <3
Danny is a STEM kid and just as brilliant as his sister, you cannot convince me otherwise
Danny gave Bruce the handwritten list of powers in the morning. Bruce stared at it over his cup of coffee, then gave Danny a flat, somewhat disbelieving look. Danny shrugged sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Sorry,” he said, perching on one of the stools. “I can point out the ones I don’t use if you just want to work on the ones I do. At least I have an idea of what needs improving with those.” Alfred gave him a cup of coffee and a plate of bacon and French toast, and Danny smiled at him. “Thanks, Alfred.”
“We’ll have to prioritize your training,” Bruce allowed after a moment, frowning down at the paper. Dick leaned over to look and whistled. “But all of these will be addressed eventually. You should have at least a moderate grasp of every tool at your disposal.” He looked up. “You intended to work in the lab today, correct?”
Danny nodded, playing with a strip of bacon. “I’ll probably spend most of today making a big batch of phaseproof coating,” he said. “Then I can experiment with mixing it with paint and maybe coat some of your spare weapons in it? That should work for the bo staff and escrima sticks, maybe a set of brass knuckles. But I’ll need to make a different solution for the edged weapons.” His mind wandered, thinking of how he could adapt what he knew of the Bats’ gear to work against ghosts.
“Who’re the brass knuckles for?” Dick asked, raising an eyebrow at Danny. Danny flushed and shrugged.
“Batman,” he said. “You don’t really use a weapon, right?” Bruce grunted. “But phaseproof cloth isn’t something my parents ever really figured out. I can work on it, maybe, but I thought brass knuckles would be an okay compromise for now.”
“Hn.”
“Good thinking,” Dick praised with a smile. “It’ll be easy to add to the utility belt too. Should we ghostproof my main set or a spare?”
“The main, I think, if you’re okay with it,” Danny said, tilting his head thoughtfully. “You probably won’t even notice. But the edged weapons should all be spares. Ecto-treated metal tends to glow.”
“Not great for stealth,” Dick nodded. “Whatever you think is best, baby spook. We have the resources.”
“You’re hyper-specialized,” Bruce noted without inflection, sipping from his coffee. Danny winced.
“Sorry,” he muttered. It was easy to forget that all this was pretty useless outside of Amity Park. Bruce shook his head.
“It’s not a problem. But we’ll need to diversify your skillset. Your talent for chemistry and engineering should expand beyond ectoscience alone.” He studied Danny contemplatively. “Higher education might be beneficial, perhaps a PhD.”
Danny’s eyes went wide. “What? I’m barely passing high school!”
“I had Casper High send over your transcripts,” Bruce said. Danny flinched. “You had a B+ average in middle school, with a particular bent for math and science. You also participated in several advanced extracurriculars, including a junior astronaut program, space camp, and competitive robotics. Further, you clearly have a comprehensive understanding of your parents’ work, which eludes both the Justice League engineers and JL Dark. You had these talents prior to acquiring your powers, and it would be a waste to discard them in favor of your raw combat ability.”
Danny stared at Bruce, open-mouthed and speechless. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d considered even the possibility that he could have a future outside of his hero career.
“…Do you think I could do that and be a superhero?” he managed after a minute, quieter than he’d meant to.
Bruce nodded sharply. “Most Justice League heroes maintain a career outside of heroics,” he reminded Danny, without even sounding like he thought Danny was an idiot for asking. “Aside from myself, there is also a Pulitzer prize-winning journalist, a museum curator, a forensic scientist, and a fighter pilot.”
Danny had known that on some level, but it had always seemed unreal. Practically a myth. “When am I going back to school?” he asked, hardly able to believe that he was suddenly looking forward to it.
“At the beginning of next semester,” Bruce said. “Your parents’ trial should be completed by then. I assume you don’t want to be announced publicly until that happens.” Danny shook his head fervently. “You may need to complete some make-up classes online, but we can discuss that next week.”
“Thanks,” Danny said sincerely. He was talking about a lot more than his re-enrollment.
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Sugar, Spice, and Everything Extra
PAIRING(s): SugarMommy!Agatha, Rio, Lilia, Jennifer, and Alice x SugarBaby!Reader
SUMMARY: Str*pper Reader meets 5 interesting older women who wants to own her.
WARNING(s): I'm not sure, lol.
A/N: I saw some beautiful soul who requested for someone to write this fic idea. I thought to give it a try even though I suck at writing, lol.
@lanfear-is-my-darkmistress 💜
You adjust the strap of your heels, the mirror reflecting the dim glow of neon lights in the dressing room. Another night at The Velvet Petal, another round of dollar bills and fleeting gazes. Stripping isn’t glamorous, but it pays the bills and keeps you in school. Plus, your roommate Wanda, the epitome of balance and chaos, has your back when things get rough.
The music thunders outside as your turn approaches. You don your stage persona: confidence wrapped in sequins and heels. But tonight feels different, charged. As you step out onto the stage, the crowd cheers, but it’s not the usual drunken revelry that catches your eye.
It’s them.
Five women, all seated in the corner booth like a scene out of a magazine spread, radiating power and wealth. Agatha, with her streak of silver hair and piercing eyes, exudes control, her tailored suit sharp enough to cut. Rio, effortlessly chic in a leather jacket, lounges like the queen of the world. Alice, the soft-spoken tech mogul, hides behind her glasses, but her smirk says she’s just as confident as the others. Jennifer, a successful actress, looks stunning and polished, her laughter like music itself. And then there’s Lilia, elegant and warm, her gaze lingering on you with unspoken approval.
As you move through your routine, their eyes never leave you. It’s unnerving at first, but then... intoxicating. They’re not here for the cheap thrills—they’re here for you.
After your set, you retreat backstage, heart pounding. Moments later, one of the staff calls you over. “The ladies in the corner booth asked to see you.”
Curiosity gets the better of you, and soon you’re standing in front of them, feeling like a deer in headlights.
“Sit,” Agatha says smoothly, gesturing to the empty seat in their midst. Her voice is commanding, yet inviting, like she’s used to getting exactly what she wants.
You sit, your hands clasped in your lap as their gazes sweep over you. It’s not uncomfortable—not entirely. There’s something magnetic about them, the way they move and speak as though they already own the room.
“You’re quite the performer,” Jennifer says, her red lips curling into a smile. “What’s your name?”
You hesitate, giving them your stage name. They exchange amused glances, clearly unconvinced.
“Your real name,” Rio insists, leaning closer.
You tell them, your voice barely above a whisper, and Lilia beams. “Beautiful. Just like you.”
“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” Alice asks, her tone gentle but probing.
“Paying for school,” you admit. “It’s... complicated.”
Agatha smirks. “Not for us. What if we made it simple?”
Your brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
“We mean,” Rio says, sliding a black card across the table, “that we want to take care of you.”
Jennifer’s hand brushes yours as she speaks. “No strings, unless you want them.” Her words carry a playful edge.
“You’ll have everything you need,” Lilia adds, her tone warm. “Money, support, and... companionship.”
Alice adjusts her glasses, her voice soft but confident. “We’re already close. This would just make you... part of the family.”
You blink, trying to process their words. They’re not joking—this is real. Five successful, gorgeous women offering to be your sugar mommas? It’s too good to be true.
“Why me?” you ask, voice trembling.
“Because you’re special,” Agatha says firmly. “And we know how to recognize something—or someone—worth investing in.”
You feel your face heat as they all watch you, their expressions a mix of affection, desire, and genuine interest. For the first time, you’re not sure if you’re the one holding the power—or if they’ve already stolen it from you.
“Think about it,” Rio says, her hand brushing your thigh as she leans back with a smirk.
“Oh, and here,” Lilia adds, slipping a velvet pouch into your hand. “A little something to help you decide.”
When you open it later, back at home, you find a diamond necklace and a check with a number that makes your head spin.
Wanda raises an eyebrow when you tell her. “Five sugar mommas? Girl, you’re either the luckiest person alive or the plot of a Lifetime movie waiting to happen.”
You laugh, but your mind is already racing. What would it mean to let them in? To be theirs?
The thought thrills you—and terrifies you in equal measure.
You barely sleep that night, the velvet pouch and its contents sitting on your bedside table, shimmering under the faint glow of your desk lamp. Wanda’s light snoring from the other side of the apartment is a strange comfort as your mind swirls with questions.
The next evening, as you walk into The Velvet Petal, you’re surprised to find the same booth occupied. The five women are waiting for you, their presence commanding the room just as much as the night before. Agatha’s sharp gaze meets yours immediately, and a subtle smirk tugs at the corner of her lips.
You’re halfway through your set when you notice it—their eyes are on you, but tonight there’s something heavier in their stares. Possessive. Hungry. The way Agatha’s fingers drum on the table, the way Jennifer bites her lower lip as you lean into your routine, sends shivers down your spine.
You finish your set, and as you step offstage, you know you can’t avoid them. A staff member hands you a note:
VIP Room 3. Don’t keep us waiting.
Your breath hitches, but curiosity wins out over caution. You make your way to the back, heart pounding with each step.
When you enter the room, they’re already seated, their positions casual but exuding authority. The space feels smaller with them in it, the air thick with their energy.
“You came,” Rio says, lounging against the sofa like she owns it. “Good girl.”
The words ignite something in you, a mix of defiance and intrigue. “What do you want from me?” you ask, keeping your voice steady, though your pulse betrays you.
Agatha leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “We already told you. We want you.”
“And we don’t like waiting,” Jennifer adds, her tone playful yet edged with warning.
Lilia pats the seat next to her. “Come, sit. Let’s talk.”
You hesitate, but her warm smile and soft-spoken nature make it harder to resist. You take the seat, the proximity making you hyperaware of her perfume—floral, expensive, intoxicating.
“You deserve to be spoiled,” Alice says, her voice calm and steady. “You’ve worked hard enough. Let us take care of the rest.”
“We’re not asking you to give up your independence,” Rio says, though her eyes glint with something darker. “But you’ll find life’s a lot easier when you have five women devoted to your happiness.”
Jennifer leans in, her fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “And we are devoted, sweetheart.”
You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure. “I don’t even know you.”
Agatha chuckles, the sound low and dangerous. “You’ll get to know us. Intimately.”
Her words hang in the air, heavy with implication. You can feel the heat creeping up your neck as Lilia’s hand gently rests on your knee. Her touch is light, almost comforting, but it sends a spark through you.
“You don’t have to decide right now,” Lilia murmurs, her thumb brushing slow circles against your leg. “But we want you to feel... wanted.”
Rio smirks, her gaze dropping to your lips. “And we’re very good at making people feel wanted.”
Before you can respond, Jennifer stands, stepping behind you. Her hands rest lightly on your shoulders, her fingers tracing slow patterns against your skin. The intimacy of the gesture makes your breath hitch.
“You’re tense,” she whispers, her lips close to your ear. “You work so hard, don’t you? Let us take some of that weight off.”
Agatha’s eyes darken as she watches the scene unfold, a predator assessing its prey. “You deserve to be treated like the treasure you are.”
Lilia’s hand slides a little higher on your thigh, her movements gentle but deliberate. “Let us take care of you, darling.”
Your heart races as you look around the room, their eyes on you, their intentions crystal clear. It’s overwhelming, intoxicating, and more than a little dangerous.
“I... I need time to think,” you manage, your voice shaky but firm.
Agatha stands, her imposing presence filling the room as she moves closer. She reaches down, tilting your chin up to meet her gaze. “Of course, take your time,” she says, her voice low and commanding. “But don’t take too long. We’re not the patient type.”
With that, she steps back, and the five of them exchange knowing looks, as if they’ve already decided you’re theirs.
As you leave the room, your legs feel unsteady, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. You can still feel the ghost of their touches, the weight of their gazes.
Back in the dressing room, you glance at your reflection, your flushed cheeks and wide eyes betraying the storm inside you. You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into—but part of you doesn’t want to escape.
Back in your apartment, Wanda is sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She barely glances up as you close the door, your heels clicking against the floor.
“Rough night?” she asks, her voice casual, though she finally looks at you, frowning slightly. “You look... flustered.”
You don’t answer right away, instead shrugging off your coat and tossing your bag onto the counter. Flustered doesn’t even begin to cover it. Your mind replays the evening on an endless loop: Agatha’s commanding tone, Lilia’s warm touch, Jennifer’s whispered promises, the way they all seemed to orbit you like you were the center of their universe.
“Not rough,” you say finally, though your voice betrays you. “Just... weird.”
Wanda narrows her eyes. “Weird how? Did someone cross a line? Do I need to come down there and handle something?”
You shake your head, though the thought of her trying to “handle” Agatha makes you snort despite yourself. “No, nothing like that. It’s just... this group of women. They were... different.”
“Different how?” Wanda asks, now sitting up, her curiosity piqued.
You hesitate, unsure how to explain. “They’re... rich. Like, stupid rich. And they... I don’t know. They want to... help me?”
Wanda’s eyebrows shoot up. “Help you how? Like charity? Or...” Her expression shifts to one of amusement. “...like sugar momma help?”
You stay silent, and that’s all the confirmation she needs. Wanda bursts out laughing, clutching a pillow as she leans back.
“Oh my God,” she says between giggles. “You’ve got five sugar mommas fighting over you? That’s the plot of a rom-com, babe. Or, like, a very specific fanfiction.”
“It’s not funny,” you mumble, though your cheeks burn. “They’re serious, Wanda. They said they want to take care of me.”
Wanda calms down, though her grin remains. “And what did you say?”
“I said I needed time to think.”
She tilts her head, studying you. “And what do you want?”
You sigh, collapsing onto the chair. “I don’t know. It’s... overwhelming. They’re all so... intense.”
“Intense hot?” Wanda asks, wiggling her eyebrows.
You roll your eyes, but you can’t deny it. They are hot, each in their own way. Agatha’s commanding presence, Rio’s rebellious charm, Alice’s quiet intellect, Jennifer’s movie-star allure, and Lilia’s nurturing warmth—they’re all dangerously appealing.
“They’re hot, okay? But that’s not the point,” you admit, rubbing your temples.
“The point,” Wanda says, leaning forward, “is that they’re rich, gorgeous, and want to spoil you. What’s the downside here?”
You don’t answer, because you’re not sure there is one—at least, not yet. But something about the way they looked at you tonight, like they were already claiming you as their own, makes your stomach twist in a mix of anticipation and unease.
The next morning, you find a package waiting outside your door. It’s wrapped in elegant black paper, tied with a silk ribbon. Wanda, curious as ever, peeks over your shoulder as you open it.
Inside, you find a designer handbag that probably costs more than your rent, a card tucked neatly inside. The handwriting is elegant and precise.
“You deserve the best. Let us show you. - A, R, Al, J, L”
Wanda whistles low. “Girl, they’re not playing.”
You run your fingers over the smooth leather, your heart pounding. The gift is beautiful, thoughtful even—but it’s also a reminder of the power they hold. They could change your life, make everything easier. But at what cost?
That evening, you find yourself back at The Velvet Petal, though you’re distracted the entire night. When your shift ends, one of the staff hands you a note.
“Meet us upstairs. Same room. We won’t ask again.”
You hesitate, the weight of their words heavy in your hands. You don’t know why you go, why you climb the stairs and open the door to find them all waiting, just as they were before.
This time, they don’t give you a chance to second-guess.
“We’re done waiting,” Agatha says, standing as you enter. Her presence fills the room, her sharp suit impeccable as ever.
“We know you’re hesitant,” Lilia adds gently, rising to meet you. She takes your hands in hers, her touch warm and reassuring. “But we also know what you need, even if you don’t yet.”
Jennifer steps behind you, her hands settling on your shoulders again. “You’re too special to let go, sweetheart.”
Rio smirks, lounging on the sofa. “And let’s be honest—you want this as much as we do.”
Alice steps forward, her eyes meeting yours with quiet intensity. “Say yes, and we’ll give you the world.”
The air is thick, their words wrapping around you like a velvet cage. Your heart races as their gazes lock onto yours, each one waiting for your answer.
You take a shaky breath, your voice barely above a whisper. “What happens if I say yes?”
Agatha’s smile is slow, deliberate. “Then you’re ours.”
Agatha’s words linger in the air, heavy and inescapable. The way she looks at you feels like she’s already decided your answer. The others exchange glances, their expressions a mix of hunger and satisfaction, as though your hesitation has only added fuel to their fire.
“I...” you start, but the words catch in your throat.
Jennifer’s hands slide down your arms, her touch gentle but firm. “Shh, don’t overthink it,” she murmurs. Her lips are close to your ear, her breath warm against your skin. “Just let us take care of you.”
Your heart races as Lilia steps closer, her fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’ve worked so hard, darling,” she says, her voice low and soothing. “You deserve to rest. To feel wanted.”
The way she says it sends a shiver down your spine. Her hand moves to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that leaves you breathless.
Before you can respond, Rio rises from the sofa, her movements slow and deliberate. “You’re overthinking,” she says, her smirk sharp as she closes the distance between you. “You want this. I can see it.”
Her fingers trail down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Let yourself enjoy it for once.”
Alice is the last to move, her presence quieter but no less intense. She steps closer, her eyes locked on yours as she speaks. “We’re not asking for anything you don’t want to give,” she says softly, her tone disarming. “But if you say yes, we’ll make sure you never have to worry again.”
Agatha’s voice cuts through the haze, commanding and steady. “Say it,” she urges. Her hand reaches out, tilting your chin up so you’re forced to meet her gaze. Her touch is firm but not harsh, her thumb brushing over your jaw. “Say yes.”
The weight of their attention is almost too much to bear, your body reacting in ways you can’t control. Your mind is screaming at you to think, to process, but your heart is louder, pounding in your chest as their words sink in.
“I...” you begin, your voice trembling.
Jennifer’s lips brush your ear, her voice a sultry whisper. “Yes, baby. That’s all you have to say.”
And before you know it, the word falls from your lips. “Yes.”
The shift in the room is immediate. Agatha’s smile is predatory, Rio’s grin smug. Lilia’s eyes light up with warmth, and Jennifer presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, her touch lingering. Alice nods, her lips curving into a small, satisfied smile.
“Good girl,” Agatha murmurs, her hand still cradling your face. “You’ve made the right choice.”
Rio steps behind you, her hands brushing your waist as she leans in close. “Now, let us show you how much we appreciate you.”
Jennifer’s fingers trace slow patterns against your arms as Lilia pulls you into a gentle embrace. Her perfume surrounds you, a soft, floral scent that makes your head spin.
“You’re ours now,” Lilia whispers, her voice dripping with affection. “And we take care of what’s ours.”
The way she says it sends heat rushing through you, their touches and words weaving a web around you that you can’t escape—and, deep down, you realize you don’t want to.
The air in the room feels heavy, thick with anticipation. You’re caught in the pull of their presence—five women who’ve effortlessly taken control of the space and, now, you. Each of them steps closer, their combined energy overwhelming, intoxicating.
Agatha’s hand lingers at your chin, her sharp nails lightly grazing your skin as she tilts your face toward her. Her piercing eyes search yours, and a faint, satisfied smirk spreads across her lips. “You’re trembling,” she murmurs, her voice low and smooth. “Are you nervous? Or just excited?”
Before you can respond, Lilia presses against your side, her arm wrapping around your waist. The warmth of her body seeps into yours, and her fingers begin to trace soft circles along your hip. Her touch is gentle but firm, grounding yet possessive.
“Don’t worry, darling,” Lilia whispers, her lips close to your ear. “We’ll take care of you. Let us show you just how much you mean to us.”
Jennifer’s laugh is soft and teasing as she moves to your other side. Her hands slide over your shoulders, her touch featherlight but deliberate. “You’re ours now, sweetheart. There’s no need to hold back.”
Rio leans against the wall, her dark eyes fixed on you with a smoldering intensity. She doesn’t move, but the heat of her gaze is enough to make your knees weak. “We’ve been waiting for this,” she says, her tone dripping with satisfaction. “And now that we have you, we’re not letting you go.”
Alice is quieter, but her presence is no less commanding. She steps forward, her hands sliding into her pockets as she watches the others with a small, knowing smile. “Don’t let them overwhelm you too much,” she says softly, though the glint in her eyes betrays her own intent.
You feel surrounded, enveloped by their presence and their touch. The intensity of it all sends your pulse racing, your breaths coming shallow and uneven.
“You’re so beautiful,” Lilia murmurs, her fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. Her gaze is warm and affectionate, but there’s a glimmer of something deeper—something darker—just beneath the surface.
Agatha’s thumb grazes over your lower lip, her smirk widening at the way your breath hitches. “We’ll make sure you never feel neglected again,” she says, her tone promising and possessive.
Jennifer leans in closer, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. “All you have to do is let us take the lead, baby. We’ll handle the rest.”
You’re caught in their web, their touches and words binding you tighter with every passing second. You don’t know where this will lead, but you’re certain of one thing: they won’t stop until you’re completely theirs.
_-_-_
Please don't hesitate to leave a comment, like, and reblog. Tenchu!
#agatha harkness x reader#lilia calderu x reader#rio vidal x reader#agatha all along#jennifer kale x reader#alice wu gulliver x reader#agatha harkness fanfic#agatha harkness#agathario#kathryn hahn#marvel#rio vidal#dark fanfiction#patti lupone
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I just saw the post about Jazz not taking care of himself and all that, and with the doodle provided on that, i for some reason, have the mental imagine of Prowl now just holding Jazz on one hand while the tiny human sleeps there, and he's just working on whatever it is that he needs to work on with one hand
Because he got scared and now does not want to let go until he's sure he's ok.
There is no context, i just saw Prowl holding tiny Jazz and now my brain itches for more of that i guess.
THO SPEAKING OF WHICH (please excuse the rambling), but like when Prowl first finds out about Jazz actually not being a mech and just this tiny soft squishy human, who, in tfp Ratchet's words, can go squish under their pedes like, now constantly panics about Jazz possibly being hurt
And under no circumstances allows him to walk on the floors in fear he might, in fact, go squish. So everytime he leaves his suit Prowl has him sit by on the tabls or straight out just carries him (bring out that meme of Finn having a pocket for Jake)
Idk, the amount of funny scenarios of Prowl having to learn about how to be careful around a human is endless and i love it, and dammit your au has been stuck in my head i can't stop looking at content for it, it's making me go insane!!
Oh and to hopefully finish my rambling off, but add huamn adrenaline to the mix. Jazz getting severally hurt, but the adrenaline keeps him kicking for a bit longer, like bleeding out and a broken arm but he pushes through as if it were nothing....until they are out of danger and the pain kicks in. Prowl is none the wiser to his partner's injuries until the mecha suit starts to tweak as Jazz starts to let out pained screams, or small gasps of pain depending how much hurt you want him to be in, and then he pops out the chest compartment to reveal how much actual damage he took.
Ok this was supposed be a small "haha Prowl holding a sleeping Jazz" and it turned in to a full on yap session about very different ideas, hope you dont mind ^^;;
Just really love your au man...
YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ACTUALLY PREDICTED THE THING I WAS PLANNING TO INCLUDE IN MY THREAD :D
Like. Y E AH. Think of it. Fuckinb imaginb. Jazz falling asleep right where he was standing and Prowl is like. Okay I need to find some safe place to put this tiny guy because I don’t want him to get squashed right?? But he doesn’t really have a lot of options so he ends up just sitting and reading something from his datapad with one hand. And holding Jazz in the other. And it works perfectly because Jazz is small enough to fit in Prowls palm.
ALSO. A L S O
I imagine Jazz has magnets in the gloves of his suit. So! Not only Prowl can carry him around but also Jazz can just stick himself to Prowls plates haha
Prowl: Where tf are you
Jazz, crawling on Prowls back: I’m Spider man
Another Cybertonians react to this the same way people do when they see a spider on someone’s shoulder btw~
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ਏਓ content. — boxer sukuna x childhood friend fem!reader. modern au, fwb, chocking kink, petnames (princess), no happy ending.
ਏਓ notes. idk i wanted to explore the idea of a jealous sukuna, unable to take control of a situation that gets out of his hands. reader may be read as a bitch,,, perhaps. but she is just as scared of her own feelings and ruin the friendship as he is ksjd felt i needed to clarify that.
Things had been weird lately. You assume that all unspoken situations end up like this at some point. At least, that's what you presume, because you've never found yourself in a position like this before. You haven't wanted to think about it too much, or at least not as deeply as the situation probably requires. You and Sukuna have been friends for several years now, and when you started this arrangement between the two of you, you made it very clear that there were no emotional ties, nothing that could bind you together enough to later separate you.
You were nothing more than friends hooking up, a deal implied from the very first time, right here in your room. The same place where it has happened over and over again. The room that holds your secrets, your shared laughter, tears and some heated arguments. It all started with a kiss that led to another, like the flutter of a butterfly unleashing a storm. The hunger of desire pushed you to sit on his lap, you were hungry and he knew how to feed you. So it has always been: you call and he comes.
Lately, however, the tension is different. Not the kind of tension you like, the kind where a simple glance can set your skin on fire, the kind of electricity that runs through even the boxing ring and makes you clench your thighs because you know what's coming next. What surrounds you now is an uncomfortable veil, laden with unspoken words that you both avoid, knowing that a conversation about it would only make things worse.
There's only one thing you're sure of: you don't want to overthink it.
Sukuna lets out a grunt of pain under the alcohol-soaked absorbent cotton. Out of the corner of your eye you notice how his hands, wrapped in white bandages, tighten and cling tightly to your thighs.
“Hold still,” you reproach him in a soft but firm tone as you lean over to reach for a band-aid on the bedside table.
Night has fallen, and you are both enveloped in the noisy calm of the city where the murmurs of other apartments and the distant bustle of the city seep through the walls. The atmosphere feels intimate, as if the outside world is just an irrelevant murmur compared to what is going on between you.
“ He really fucked you up, hm?” you murmur with a hint of concern in your voice. He growls low, resembling a dog that's been scolded, his brow furrowed as his red eyes bore into the wide cotton t-shirt you're wearing, especially the 'V' shape that exposes your collarbones and that little necklace hanging from your neck. You seem to notice, but decide to ignore how his gaze slides with restrained desire. “You never let yourself get hurt like that,” you add with a tone that mixes reproach and concern, pressing the alcohol-soaked cotton swab against his injured eyebrow.
“I was distracted,” he replies indifferently.
You gently push his shoulders to get a better look at him, noticing how he avoids your eyes, knowing you can read him all too easily. A black eye, a split eyebrow with a few fresh stitches, and a swollen lip; signs of a fight where he clearly wasn't in his best shape. “You weren't there,” he mutters, almost as if the confession escapes his lips.
So that's what this is about.
“I was busy with work,” you reply, trying to make it sound casual.
He emits a low sound, a deep purr that vibrates against your fingers as you continue to clean his wound. There's something in his tone that reveals a need he doesn't want to admit.
“I called, you weren't there.”
You sigh in exasperation.
“You're my watchdog now?” you tease, though behind the question lies a tension neither of you is willing to fully face.
“Are you fucking him?” the rawness of his question doesn't take you by surprise as it should. You knew this was going to blow up eventually, but still, the impact of his words causes an uncomfortable knot to form in your chest. You wonder if it was the shirt, visibly larger than you usually wear, that made him suspicious or if it was your growing coldness over the past few weeks. “You reek of him. Is that why you didn't come to see me, because you were fucking him?”
“Ryomen…” Your voice sounds like a gentle, almost motherly reproach, as if you're trying to stop a child about to get into trouble. Yet he receives it exactly that way: with a mixture of frustration and indignation, as if it's unfair of you to speak to him that way when all he wants is the truth.
“The fucking guy from your job,” he spits, his gaze piercing you with a mixture of anger and hurt that he rarely lets on. His hands are tense, knuckles white on your thighs.
The words hang in the air, heavy and toxic, mingling with the bitterness of everything unsaid between you. But deep down, you both know this goes far beyond simple jealousy.
Your tongue moistens your upper lip as you try to buy time, looking for the perfect excuse to deflect the conversation. But this time, there's no escape possible. You're trapped in his lap, his hands firmly gripping your ass, his face so close you can almost feel the heat of his skin.
“It just… happened. We have no strings attached, remember? It was what we agreed to. I thought we were both having fun.”
Sukuna lets out a bitter, dry laugh, laden with an irony that cuts through the air between you like a blade. His fingers sink harder into your flesh, making you aware of the tension coursing through his body.
“Do you really think I'm having fun right now?” he murmurs, his gravelly voice with an edge that cuts through you. The way his scarlet eyes pierce into you it's as if he's searching for something beyond your words, something even you don't know how to express. There's a restrained fury in his gaze, but also a hint of pain that you didn't expect to see. That glint that suggests that, perhaps, all this has gone further than either of you would dare to admit.
Your fingers slowly glide across the scarred skin of his shoulders, following the path of his tattoos, noting how each small movement tenses his musculature. You run down his naked torso, feel the warmth of his chest under your palms, then wrap your arms around his neck. You lean in close enough for your words to brush his lips in a whisper.
“Are you jealous, is that it? It's hard for me to tell when your boner is pushing against my ass,” you whisper to him with a mixture of mockery and desire.
Sukuna hates it when you use that tone, one that reminds him that, despite everything, he's always the one who ends up giving in to you. It's as if you have an invisible leash around his neck, and every time you pull on it, he comes without resistance. You lean a little closer, making sure his cock rubs directly against your pussy, barely covered by the thin set of panties you're wearing. The woody scent of the other man on your body confounds his senses, mixing rage, lust and something he doesn't want to name.
You hide in his neck, leaving a trail of kisses just behind his ear, that spot that always makes him lose control. Sukuna squeezes your ass cheeks tighter, pulling you even more into him, letting you feel every inch of his hardness.
“You have to talk to me,” you murmur against his skin, your teeth catching his lobe in a playful bite that makes his skin bristle. “I can't read what you're thinking.”
You know you're driving him crazy, that you're playing with fire, but you enjoy watching the cracks in his facade of hardness begin to appear and wonder how hard you can push before he snaps.
“Is this what you think I am to you, a dog you can call whenever you feel like fucking?” Sukuna spits out the words, his voice laden with a resentment he makes no attempt to hide. Every fiber of his body is still vibrating with the adrenaline of the fight just ended, and even though the physical battle is over, he still feels cornered, as if he's taking blow after blow.
Instead of responding with words, he lets his body do it for him. His hands scrape your skin, descending to your neck, squeezing gently to get your full attention. The pressure isn't enough to hurt you, but enough to make you focus on the burning that ignites in your clit, yearning to be rubbed and abused by those same hands that know exactly how to bring you to the edge.
“Is that what you want me to be?” he murmurs in a dangerous tone. “To let you use me over and over again? To make you cum on this thick cock until you're sobbing, crawling under me because it's too much?”
Your only response is a moan that escapes uncontrollably. You thrust your hips against him, seeking more friction, and he, despite his anger, begins to thrust from below, losing control over his own desire. This is what you needed, what you had forgotten in weeks without touching. Your nipples, hard and sensitive, are marked through the soft fabric of your t-shirt, begging for his mouth, for his teeth. There is always something about the way Sukuna holds you after he has humiliated you to the point of making you cum on his cock, an intimacy, that you find in no one else. It's that closeness that envelops you when he embraces you while you're still trembling after you've reached your climax.
“Answer me,” he growls, his fingers squeezing a little tighter, his voice demanding a confession.
“Yes… I need you to make me cum,” you murmur, unable to help the tremor in your voice.
Sukuna laughs, but it's not a kind sound. Your eyes widen in surprise when he lets go of your throat. The next breath you take is painful, immediately missing the pressure of his hand again.
Suddenly, he stands up, forcing you to be quick not to slip off his lap. Before you can process what's happening, he pulls on his blood-stained shirt, his movements calculated, as you stare at him blankly. “Jerk off and go to bed, princess,” he says coolly, adjusting his clothes without looking at you. “If you really wanna talk, come see me tomorrow after the fight. I'm leaving.”
With nothing more to say, Sukuna turns away, leaving the unresolved tension in the air and you with the feeling that, this time, the rules of your arrangement have changed forever.
#wr#wr.sukuna#divider creds: cafekitsune! as always hey#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#jjk x reader
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HELLOOOO
I got a silly little ask, just a drabble from you would be fine 😁
Like- the reader (gender neutral) wasn't very open about their hobbies and such. One of their hobbies was like martial arts or smth (THIS IS VERY CRUCIAL ☝️☝️☝️)
Wellll, one day Jimmy (🤮) decided to try and touch the reader inappropriately and they just throw him over their shoulder saying something along the lines of "Do NOT touch me."
I KNOW IT'S CRINGE BUT PLEASEEEE, IT WOULD BE SO FUNNY 🙏🙏🙏🙏
I saw you're writing for only Curly and Daisuke, but if you wanna you can add other characters into the mix. It's all platonic, just a silly little ask cuz I wanna laugh 😁😁😁
[ Tulpar Crew & Reader ]
Oh I love this one. Also this reminded me to update my list thank u 4 unintentionally reminding me anon.,.,. ALSO DONT WORRY I DONT THINK IT'S CRINGE !
gender neutral reader, it gets silly later on i promise. not proof-read. wrote this really quick.
⚠️ tw: stalking, jimmy being a little too forward and close
The day was pretty much mundane, like always. Everyone was in their designated work stations, including you of course. Though, something felt off. It had been like this for the past week, and you hated it. You even blamed your lack of sleep for it. It seemed like there was something— someone, watching and following you when you were alone.
One time, you'd even woken up to the sound of your quarter's door closing. You stayed up all night, not wanting to inconvenience the other crew members for what you think might just be all in your head. Well, that is until psych evaluation day came and you opened up about this to Anya who so easily believed you, but seemed so uncomfortable with the topic. You decided not to pry out of respect. She offers her company when you need it.
That same night, Daisuke offered to host a game session to which everyone reluctantly agreed to.
Establishing good bonds between workers is key to an efficient working environment!
Anya, Swansea and Daisuke were sitting by the sofa, Curly dragged a chair just beside the game table, whilst you and Jimmy sat beside each other on the floor. The game involved four players and the crew decided that whoever loses first has to swap with whoever hasn't played yet for the next rounds. The game was getting heated, Daisuke and Anya, neck on neck. Unfortunately, not the only thing neck on neck. Everyone else was too focused on the game to even notice what Jimmy was doing. You can feel his breath against your skin. You eyed the others in hopes that they would see. Too busy. Annoyed and grossed out, you elbowed his ribs in warning, glaring at him. "Jimmy, don't touch me." He seems pissed, but that doesn't deter him from getting his entertainment. Jimmy presses on and you swear you felt your eyebrows twitch. The balls of this guy to even do this here.
Daisuke throws the dice, the three leans in in anticipation as they watch it slowly roll to a stop and—
CRASH!
Some game pieces flew in different directions, two table legs snapping from the force and Jimmy's weight. It was radio silent for a moment. The crew having different variations of shocked expressions. You had grabbed his arm and flipped his body onto the furniture.
"Fuckin' pervert. Are you deaf, or what? I said do NOT touch me."
Daisuke threw his hands up in the air and settled it on each side of his head, frustrated. "Oh, come on, man! I was so close to winni—!" His whining ceases when Swansea nudges him, instantly shutting up and processing what had just happened. It took a few blinks for him to register and he eventually bursts out laughing and pointing at Jimmy. It took everything from Swansea not to burst out laughing as well. Instead, he crosses his arms and huffs with a proud smile. 'Atta' kid.'
Anya on the other hand slips out a gasp, covering her mouth. Mostly out of shock, and no sympathy for the man whatsoever. When the other intern started laughing, she had to bite her lip and look away to suppress her own fit.
[ History of glenohumeral joint subluxation.
It happened way too fast for Jimmy to even process what just happened. He spits out something hard, probably a tooth. His shoulder slightly stings as well, probably dislocated. He'll get back at you some other time, he can't get back at you when everyone else is here and that pisses him off even more.
Curly had mixed feelings. But of course, he prioritizes his role and he has to mediate everything first and foremost. Rubbing his face, he sighs and stands up, putting his hands on his hips. He calls your name and you tilted your head to look up at him. "I have to discuss... this with you later on. Please drop by the cockpit, yeah?" You roll your eyes and nod, pouting. "Swansea, could we borrow your intern real quick?"
"Shift's over, go ahead."
He gives the eldest a nod. "Daisuke, please assist Anya. Help her bring Jimmy to medical."
"Youuuuu got it, Big C." He finger guns towards the captain then stands up to hover over the co-pilot. Curly could only give Daisuke an awkward smile at the nickname.
"Never call him that again."
"El Capitano." Daisuke helps Jimmy up, making sure he's pulling them up by the injured arm, making the man grit his teeth and groan in pain. Before the guy could even cuss at the intern, Swansea continued bickering.
"Do your damn job."
"Yessir. Swansir."
Anya and Daisuke finally went off the bring the poor injured co-pilot to treat him. And if you'd like to know, Anya taught Daisuke how to pull Jimmy's shoulder back to place. Yes, everyone heard him when it happened.
You helped Swansea clean up the mess by the lounge and in apology, offered to help repair the table the next day. He agrees and even offers Daisuke to assist you.
Curly had to lightly reprimand you for your actions, but you'd explained to him what happened. The best he could do for you for now is lie on the report.
Sustained through occupational accident.
Employee confirmed inebriated while working.
Property damage docked to Jimmy.]
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