#and then i'm making us matching bracelets
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yuviur · 1 year ago
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And then, Henry is holding them really tight, more for his security than theirs, and he walks out of the dungeon (ep 42)
I cannot be the only one who cried when the twins climbed Henry and sat on his shoulders like two loving pauldrons 🥺
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imerian · 2 months ago
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✯ Marquez brothers matching charms ⁠✯
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crowfanity · 3 months ago
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Just realized I never posted my Defiant Dragons/Ace Attorney pride phone case
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acid-ixx · 5 months ago
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You mention in the first story that the Batfam finally realizes where we are because jon showed Damian our picture while calling us his parent- so I was wondering about how Damian reacted to that? Like did he realize we’d left at that point or did he just get hit in the face with that info?
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— related post !
reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated
a/n: y'all i have clogged nose and i hate it LMAO. anyways, i'm gonna write smth about this soon but damian's character for both the series again & again and this series is genuinely one of the more complicated to write because of how he's raised but it really goes like this—
"jon... what do you mean? that's my—"
he cuts himself off before he could continue running his mouth off. damian ignores the slight raise of jon's eyebrow, his thoughts running a mile every second.
his parent? no, never once in his life has damian considered you his parent, pushing you away whenever you try to bond with him. whatever gifts you gave him, no matter how small, or big, expensive, or inexpensive they are, he always makes a show of ripping them away right in front of you.
he told you himself. you are not his parent, never will be his parent, you'll never replace talia's standing, and there will never be a time where damian will see you as one. dick, jason, tim, literally anyone can consider you as theirs, but damian is a product of two genetically perfect individuals— you are imperfect, and it's not your business to coddle him just because you are merely married to his father in paper.
no matter how much you softly gaze at him with loving eyes, invite him with welcoming arms, praise his passion for drawing; all you'll do is weaken him and damian hates feeling weak, hates how you tempt him into melting into a puddle. that automatically makes you a burden in his book.
he hates you, and he should've been glad you disappeared off of the face of the manor.
yet the record stands still: why are you with jon? why do you hold him like he is the world in the picture? what does he mean by "sorry, damian, but me and my parents are gonna go to the carnival later!"? you, as in, bruce's spouse? why are you with them, of all people?
... why does jon get to have fun, with you? and he doesn't...?
and yet he couldn't reply to him, not when his friend babbles on for longer about his... parent. about how you, make him feel so complete. that you'll be the one helping him with his science fare project, how you two spent the night yesterday building a volcano, how you treat him with ice cream every time he achieves a good enough grade for a subject, how you, you, you always spoil jon, always comfort him, read him bedtime stories, matched bracelets, sung karaoke together, played board games with each other, picked him up from school, help him with assignments—
the more jon goes on, the more damian wants to rip his hair out. he doesn't know, doesn't know why he's suddenly pissed. is it because jon can never shut up, or because he couldn't shut up about you? about how perfect you are apparently? how you're the ideal parent he never once bat an eye on? the domestic life jon seems to brag about, it's something damian secretly wanted, and it's all ripped away from him.
it makes damian wonder, would you have done the same for him?
he knows it in himself, that if he hadn't pushed you away, he might've been in jon's place.
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hyprfixate · 1 month ago
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for the taking :: [B.C] x [H.J] x [K.S] x reader
read on AO3
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summary: of your three boyfriends, you like to push chan's buttons the most so that he'll really get things going. you sadly underestimate how wild things can get when you rile him up.
pairing: kim seungmin x bang chan x han jisung x reader
tropes: poly!skz mmmf foursome, porn without plot
smut warnings: mentioned free use dynamics, dacryphilia, dom/sub dynamics, brat play, overstimulation x100000, pussy eating, implied mxm dynamics, dom jisung, soft dom/sadist seungmin, hard dom/brat tamer chan, mentions of safewords (it's not used), unprotected sex but it's a long established relationship, reader initiated slight cnc, dirty talk, reader is called a slut as a degradation thing. it's really just pure filthy, not a plot point in sight.
author's note: i didn't plan to write this at all. idk where it came from. enjoy anyway!!
word count: 8.7k
You're laying on your stomach in your bedroom. The lights are dim, music is thrumming from your speaker, and there's a candle on your wax warmer.  It's a quiet, soft night, the kind that you don't see many of. There's always something going on in the duplex you share with your partners. It can be tiring, but in the quiet, you realize you sort of miss it. You fiddle with the green beaded bracelet on your wrist as you scroll aimlessly through your phone.
Then, the door across the hall slams.
Only you and Chan are home tonight, Seungmin and Jisung off God-knows-where for whatever reason. Chan was supposed to go out with them, but he had a project to finish for his job, the same project that had him losing sleep for the last few weeks. You may never understand what exactly goes into producing music, but from the way he stayed hunched over his computer 24/7, you knew it was complicated.
You're not at all surprised when you hear your door creak open slowly. You turn over, eyes catching Chan's as he stands in your doorway with his arms folded across his chest. He's wearing a haberdash of house clothes, including a baseball cap, but you can still see the dark tint on his eyes.
You feign innocence.
“Hey you,” you smile at him. “Taking a break?”
“Something like that. What're you doing?”
You shift your phone to the hand with your bracelet, holding it up and giving it a little shake. His gaze hardens even more. “Just on Instagram.”
His eyes are trained on your wrist, just like you wanted. He recognizes the bracelet. Of course he does– he and the boys bought it for you after one of your many, many conversations. You give a little smile. "It's cute, right? The green matches my t-shirt," you say sweetly. 
It does, but that's not the only reason you're wearing it.
You're wearing it because they know that green means go. Or yes. 
Or take.
"Did you need something, Chan?"
He doesn't respond, choosing instead to push up off of the doorframe and make his way over to you. You decide to roll onto your back to see him better, and by the time you're situated, he's standing over you, arms still crossed.
You gulp.
"Um, hi," you breathe out. Nervousness was not part of the plan. "I– Did you... need something?"
He drops one of his hands and grips your ankle, and where the skin connects you feel like you've been electrocuted. Your body comes alive immediately. You can only watch as he barely strains a single muscle as he pulls you down to the edge of the bed.
"Put your phone down," he instructs. He reaches the soft part of your thigh and pinches, lips curling into a smirk when you yelp.
"Channie, I—"
"I said," he repeats, a little harsher this time, "put your phone down."
You do as you're told, dropping it on the floor next to his feet. He keeps pulling until your entire lower half is hanging off the bed. With your legs spread like they are, you're certain he can feel the pulsing coming from between your legs.
He hums.
"You know why I'm here," he says lowly. It's not a question.
Despite the speed of your heart, you blink up at him dumbly, fighting against the wave of arousal that licks down your spine when he raises an eyebrow.
"I don't know what you're talking about," you manage.
Both of his eyebrows are up now, his expression seemingly surprised for a second before it fades. He nods lightly, almost as though contemplating what you've said, and then he releases you and takes a step back.
Your heart drops for a second. You think you've messed up somehow, or maybe your tone didn't come out right. You're about to backtrack, but then he's back, hooking his fingers into either side of your waistband, and with one simple tug he has your pajama pants completely off. 
If Chan is surprised that you're not wearing any underwear, he doesn't show it.
You gasp when the cool air hits your lower body, and you watch as he smirks. He returns his vice like grip on your ankle when you start to squirm under his gaze. 
"I see you still like to pretend that you have some ounce of control in this relationship," he deadpans. He tugs you back down the bed when you try to wiggle away. You're embarrassed that his strength doesn't seem to be affected by his sleep deprivation. "Come on, baby. You know better than that."
You fight back the giddy smile that threatens to take over your face at his voice. "I don't know what you're talking about," you lie. "Why're you bothering me? Don't you have work to do?"
"I can't focus," he says smoothly. "I couldn't stop thinking about you while I was working. About how much easier work might be if I could fuck you to clear my head."
"That's too bad," you shrug, hoping he can't see how you're clenching around nothing. "I was busy."
He hums absentmindedly, letting the hand on your ankle travel higher. He runs his fingers up your calf, then your knee, until finally he hooks the inside of his wrist behind it, forcing your legs to part. You gasp and try to snap them closed, but he only has to shift a bit so that his other hand is on your opposite leg, holding you open for him.
"Why do you always act like you're not dying for me to touch you, hm?" he asks, but it's rhetorical.  He knows you don't have an answer. You never do. Even so, when you stay quiet, he huffs out a humorless laugh.
"Okay. I'm going to give you two options, because I'm feeling generous." He holds up one finger. "Option one, you admit you're just being a brat, I'll fuck it out of you, and then we can both go back to what we were doing. Or–"
You whine as he abruptly leans down with your legs still in his hands, effectively folding you in half. "Or, option two, you keep it up, and I can tell the boys to come home. Then we'll make this a lot longer than it needs to be."
Chan is dangerously close to your face now. The brim of his hat is touching your forehead. You're almost sure he can feel your heartbeat through the fabric of both of your shirts.
"So what do you want, princess?" he asks, voice dripping with honey. 
You shiver. His gaze is so intense you forget how to breathe. At your silence, he yanks you further into him, pressing himself right up against your uncovered cunt. Even through his basketball shorts you feel the unmistakable heat of his erection.
"I said, what do you want?"
Fuck.
You can't take it anymore. You feel like you're burning with need. "I'm sorry, Channie," you whine out. You can see the fire in his eyes, the way he's so worked up already, and it makes you weak. "I'll be good."
He gives you a sweet smile, leaning forward to press a kiss against your mouth. You sigh into it, letting your body go lax so he can take control. 
Despite your attempts, brattiness never lasts long with Chan. With Seungmin and Jisung, you love the challenge, love making them crack and beg a little, but Chan is entirely unrelenting. You know better than to get him too riled up, especially if you actually want anything to happen.
The kiss is a stark contrast to what you know is to come, and you know that it's on purpose. He always likes to give you the chance to back out, a way to change your mind. Bracelet or no bracelet, your comfort is still always his first priority. It's what makes you comfortable enough to tease him.
But when he pulls away from the kiss and you chase after his mouth, he only smiles.
"There's my good girl," he says. He releases your knees and presses a kiss against your cheek, and then the tip of your nose.
"Chan," you whine. Your body feels cold where his hands just were.
He only tilts his head when he looks at you. "Hm?" Then his gaze turns sinister. "Did you... need something, princess?"
Oh. 
Shit.
"Wait,” You're scrambling up from your position. “Wait, please, Chan, don't–"
He hums. "You were so mean to me," he says, trailing a single finger down your cheek. "I don't think you deserve anything from me."
You attempt to sit up, eyes widening, but he's keeping you pinned down on your bed. "But I said I'm sorry," you whine. "Channie, please, I'll be good--"
He tilts his head again, pretending to think, letting his hand fall down your face to hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger.
"No," he decides, and he straightens up, taking a step back. "I think I'm gonna go back to work."
Before you can grab him, he's slipped away, nearly halfway to your door. "Sorry, babygirl. Maybe next time, yeah?"
The smirk on his face is proof he's anything but sorry. He gives you a fake little pout before winking and stepping out of your room, clicking the door closed behind him.
You're sat up on the bed, staring at the door with your jaw slacked. This is a new level of evil, you think. You hear his bedroom door open and shut, then the muffled sound of the track he's working on vibrates the walls.
It takes longer than you'd like for your wits to come back to you, but when they do, you're both utterly gobsmacked and thoroughly impressed.
He's teasing you.
There's a part of you that's tempted to just give in, to make your way across the hall and apologize. Chan is stubborn, but not unreachable. You know if you march into his room, you could get on your knees and make him relent in seconds.
But fine. He wants to play dirty?
You can play dirty, too.
-
It's less than an hour later when you hear the front door open and shut, the sound of Jisung and Seungmin's voices carrying up the stairs. You hear takeout bags and the jingling of their keys, and then–
“We're home!”
You make no effort to move, waiting to see if Chan will leave his room first. Besides, you're still working through some of the details of your plan.
If you stay in your room, Seungmin would come upstairs to check on you first. You know he'll fuck you good, but it takes time to warm him up. By the time you start getting anywhere, Jisung will get to Chan, who might do something stupid like tell him that you were being a brat, and then he'll come in and ruin the whole thing.
No, you need eager. You need impulsive.
You need Jisung.
You pad to the bedroom door, opening it and sticking your head out. Chan's door is still closed, the track he's working on still pumping through the speakers, so you take the opportunity to get the ball rolling.
You make your way down the hall and to the top of the stairs, where you can see Jisung standing in the entryway of the kitchen. The two have already shed their jackets and shoes, and Seungmin is now busy unloading the food they brought back into the fridge. His back is turned to you.
Bingo.
"Hey," you say softly. Jisung's head whips up, eyes brightening as he spots you. He says something you can't hear to Seungmin before he's jogging up the stairs towards you. He scoops you into a squeezing hug.
"Hi my baby," he says happily, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "How was your day?"
You giggle in the hug. "It was alright. Kind of boring. How was yours?"
"We had fun," he says. He sets you down and leans against the wall next to you, reaching and catching your hand in his. You deliberately give him the hand with the bracelet, but he doesn't see it. "I missed you though."
"I missed you, too."
Jisung grins. He opens his mouth to speak again, but then he furrows his eyebrows when he looks at you, like he's just noticing something.
"Is that my shirt?"
“Is it?” You look down, feigning surprise. "Oh, yeah I guess it is."
He hums, tilting his head. His eyes trail to your hand, and he finally seems to notice the bracelet on your wrist. "That's weird. I could've sworn I saw it in my drawer this morning."
You shrug. "Maybe you're just losing your mind."
He grins, bringing your hand up to his mouth and pressing a kiss against your open palm. "Yeah, maybe. Or are you trying to tell me something?"
You bat your eyelashes up at him. "Am I?"
His smile turns sly. "You are, aren't you?"
Jisung doesn't wait for a response, clasping his hand around yours and pulling you down the hallway back into your room. He kicks the door shut behind him and spins to face you, a wicked grin on his face.
You squeal when he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and laughing against his mouth. His kisses are hot and eager– there's no break for breath as he moves across the room with you. You don't even pause when he lays you down on your bed, hand sliding “his” t-shirt up your body.
You shiver when he brushes against your thigh. His hands are cold from outside, and the contrast against your warm skin feels like electricity. He smiles in the kiss and squeezes the skin tight.
Your own hands find their way around his neck, pulling him even closer into you. Through the thin fabric of the shirt you're wearing, you can feel the hardness of his body all pressed against yours. He shifts against you and the friction makes your nipples harden right under him.
His hands leave your thighs. They wind their way up your torso, feeling you up all along the way until he finds the stiff peaks that called his attention. He runs his thumbs over them, drinking up every sound you make. One of your hands cards into his hair and you tug.
He groans at that, finally pulling away from the kiss with a grunt and instead trailing his kisses down the column of your throat. His teeth graze your pulse point and you buck up into him in surprise.
You feel him laugh against you.
"You're so cute," he says into your neck. He mouths over the skin before biting down, hot wet tongue immediately after. A bruise, then.
"Sungie," you gasp out. Your back arches off the mattress as his hands wander all over you. You've always loved how naturally his mouth works its way around your body– he knows just where to kiss, what spots to brush his nose over. Like he's learned the entire road map to your pleasure.
Maybe he has.
He mouths down your body, pausing and sucking on your breasts before leaving wet, soft kisses down the expanse of your tummy. When he gets to your core, he shifts his kiss-trail over to your inner thigh.
"Do you know how hot you are?" He murmurs. "Like all the time. Holy fuck. This is my shirt, princess. My shirt. Don't you know that drives me crazy?"
You do. It's precisely why you grabbed it.
His tongue meets your skin in an agonizing, slow stripe along your inner thigh. The higher he gets, the more your legs tremble around him, until finally his lips close around your clit.
The feeling is overwhelming. Your head lolls back against the bed and you let out a breathy moan. He hums against you, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs as he holds your legs up. Your hands are shaking, but one winds its way back into his soft hair, and you tug.
He moans at that, a sound that sends vibration up through your whole core. He takes a hand away and brings it down, letting his thumb just press lightly against your entrance. Even in the slightest sense of pressure, you arch further into him, wanting more, more, more.
He sucks on your clit even harder, his tongue joining, and when you look down and see his blissed out expression between your legs, you think your heart might jump right out of your chest.
In all the times the boys have taken you apart, they've never made you come this quickly. You're not sure if it's because of the moment with Chan earlier, or because you've been thinking about having one of them fuck you all day. All it takes is two large fingers, pushing and stretching inside of you while his mouth moves so perfectly around your throbbing clit for you to snap. You come with a sob, your thighs pressing against his head.
If there's one thing Jisung certainly loves, though, it's eating you out. He could spend hours between your legs, kissing and sucking and licking until you're boneless and spent. So there is no sign of slowing in his rhythm, even when you wriggle from overstimulation.
"Sung," you moan. He responds by pinching your thigh, sucking hard on your clit so your yelp turns into a moan.
Distantly, you register the sound of footsteps that pause right outside of your door. You hear knocking, but not on your door, and you realize Seungmin has finally come upstairs, likely to grab everybody for some quality time after a day apart.
You almost laugh at how well this is working out for you.
Jisung slides his fingers back into you, and your attention is split between straining to hear what's going on in the hallway and the blinding pleasure you're feeling. He curls his fingers up and you find yourself gushing on his hand, your own fingers tangled in his hair so tight he can barely move.
"God, you're so fucking wet," he murmurs against you. He almost sounds giddy. "Did you miss me, baby?"
You can't even form a response, only able to whine as he fucks into you with his fingers, tongue flicking over your clit just fast enough to make you tremble. Your orgasm is coming on strong, and you feel like you're floating above your body, every touch electric, every movement monumental.
And then–
"Ah, so that's where they are."
Your eyes snap to your now-open door. Your other two boyfriends are there, and you make direct eye contact with Chan just as your second orgasm reaches its peak. You arch up off the bed, gasping into the air as your body trembles, and Jisung keeps his mouth on you, sucking hard and making your vision go white.
After a minute, he finally slows his pace, pulling away and finger-fucking you slowly and deep. He would never stop completely, especially not now that everyone's in the same room. His voyeurism is likely cranked up to 10, and you know he'll be pouty and whiney for the rest of the week unless he gets to watch one of the other boys split you open on their cock.
From the way he's looking at you, you feel like it'll be Chan doing the splitting.
Seungmin, ever the sane one, pretends to roll his eyes. "So this is why neither of you were answering my texts about movie night? This couldn't wait?"
"Well, she was wearing my shirt and nothing under it," Jisung says, grinning up at him. He gives your clit one last suck before kissing it and propping himself up, fingers still buried to the hilt inside of you. Your brain feels foggy as you stare at the three of them. You can still feel yourself gushing on his fingers.
Seungmin notices, eyes glued to your cunt as he walks over. You see his faux annoyance dissolving. "Fuck, she's really wet, isn't she."
Jisung grins. He presses a kiss against your inner thigh. "Yeah, I think she missed us."
Chan scoffs. He finally makes his way into the room fully, and you can see where his cock is straining against the fabric of his shorts. "No. She missed getting fucked." 
He stands at the end of the bed, eyes fixed on Jisung's hand as he continues to move inside of you. "Did you tell Jisung what happened earlier, baby?"
Jisung huffs out a little laugh, half lidded eyes going back to your face. "Hmm. No. She didn't."
A chill runs down the length of your spine. Fuck. It sounds like Chan got to them first.
"Chan said you were being a real big brat earlier," Seungmin hums. He pulls his eyes away from your center and finally looks at you. "Is that true, angel? Were you being bad for Chan?"
You shake your head, eyes going doe-ish as he gets closer to you. You realize you need to change your plan and do it quickly. It takes less than half a second for a new idea to come: Seungmin is the softest of the three of them, at least in sexual situations. If you can get him on your side you might have a chance.
That thought flies out of the window when his hand makes its way around your throat, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. 
"Don't lie to me, sweetheart." His voice is deceptively soft. "Don't you think Chan already spoke to us?"
You fight back a gasp at the sheer betrayal, but decide to double down anyway. "Wasn't being bad," you manage. You stick out your bottom lip in a pout. "I didn't do anything!"
Seungmin squeezes again, harder, and you really do gasp this time. "Then why did we both get a text from Chan earlier saying you were being mean to him? Hmm?"
"He said he came to blow off some steam and someone," Jisung presses his fingers directly against that squishy part inside of you, "Was being all bratty. Telling him to leave her alone."
It's at this moment that you realize all your planning was futile. You've fallen right into their trap.
You try the Seungmin strategy again, panting as you look up at him. "Minnie, please," you whine. You can't think with Jisung hitting your spot like that. "I wasn't– I–"
He tilts his head. "Oh come on baby. I think you're just lying to us now."
Your chest heaves. Jisung has chosen now to dive back into your cunt, tongue swiping up your slit and circling around your clit. Your brain is too scrambled to think of any other ways out of this situation, so you resort to what you always do: 
Pleading.
"'m sorry, Minnie," you rasp. "Didn't mean to– Didn't mean to be bratty."
Seungmin softens only slightly. "Are you sure?"
"Yes!" You're gasping around your words. "I promise. I just wanted to make him mad, wasn't trying to be mean."
In all of your begging and the relentless fervor of Jisung's tongue, you barely notice Chan making his way to the other side of your bed. Seungmin's grip loosens around your throat, his fingers tracing the outline of your jaw as he takes in your words.
"Hm. What do you think, Chan?"
You turn to look at him. He's shed his shirt somewhere along the way, and the hard musculature of his stomach is glistening with sweat. He climbs onto the bed and situates himself so that he's behind you with your head in his lap. You're expecting his hand to replace Seungmin's around your throat, but instead he reaches over you, gripping the hem of your shirt and sliding it up over your chest until your breasts are on full display. Seungmin immediately sinks down to his knees and takes your nipple into his mouth.
You're a gasping, whining mess, eyes rolling back until all you can see is white. You feel Jisung sling his arm around you to keep your body still.
Above you, Chan lets the shirt go and switches his focus to your hands, pulling them up and holding your wrists together in one hand to keep them above your head.
"I think," he murmurs, using his free hand to caress your face, "That if she wants to cum so bad, we should let her."
Your heart drops. To the untrained ear, it sounds like you've won, but you know better. You know Chan, and you know he has something up his sleeve. But when you look up at him, he's looking down at you with a sickly sweet smile.
"If she's sorry," he continues, "She'll behave. Right, babygirl?"
You can't speak. The dual sensations are sending you to the moon. The hand caressing your face grips your jaw tight, keeping your gaze locked on him.
"I asked you a question, princess."
As soon as you open your mouth to answer, your orgasm crashes into you without warning. It's the third one in a row, and you feel much like a washcloth that's been wrung out. Your movements are jerky, uncoordinated, and even as you continue trying to respond to Chan, your voice is not coming out.
"Jisung." He says simply.
The boy in question pulls away from your cunt with a satisfying pop. He's absolutely pussy drunk, eyes half lidded and tongue rolling over his lips to savor the flavor of you. If it were just the two of you, he'd keep going, but amongst the hierarchy of dominance, Chan has been, and will always be, at the top.
"I think she's ready now, yeah?" Chan rubs his thumb against your skin. "Fuck her good for me."
When orchestrating your own plan, you looked at Jisung’s eagerness as something to work in your favor. You hoped he would get you riled up enough for you to scream his name a couple times and really make Chan mad. But now, as he shimmies out of his sweats and boxers, taking his thick length in his hand, you feel nervousness tickle your gut.
Seungmin has pulled away from your nipple, reaching down to hold one of your thighs up. He's murmuring sweet nothings to you as he holds you open for Jisung. The latter is poised at your entrance, stroking himself and watching you with hungry eyes. 
You tip your head back to look at Chan again, and he only smiles down at you.
"Channie," you whimper out. You can barely speak, you're so overwhelmed. "Please–"
"Shh," he coos. "I know, baby. But this is what you wanted, yeah?" His hand moves from your jaw to your mouth, pressing a finger against your lips. You suck it in without thought, letting your tongue swirl around him with your cheeks hollowed out like you would on his cock. "I just want to see you take Sungie's dick. Be good, baby."
You almost choke when Jisung thrusts into you. You're already so wet and so sensitive, and his cock is stretching you so wide, pushing deep inside until you're sure you can feel him in your stomach. He gives you no time to adjust, that eagerness coming full force as he fucks right into you.
"God, she's still so tight," he breathes. One hand finds purchase in the dip of your waist, the other moves to the thigh not being held by Seungmin, folding you up and spreading you open to give him more leverage as he fucks into you hard.
Seungmin hums, trailing kisses along your leg and the side of your neck. "Feel good, angel? You like having Jisung's cock inside you?"
You can't even respond, mind blank as Jisung plows you deep. Your back is arched off of Chan's lap, head pushed back as his finger keeps your mouth propped open. You're a dumb, drooling mess around him, and despite the soft smile on his lips, you know it's wrecking him. 
To prove your point, he digs his nails in one of your palms, a stark contrast to the way Seungmin's hand is gently rubbing up and down your body, playing with your nipples and caressing your sides and stomach.
It's all too much, the sensations are overwhelming, and you're so wound up from earlier that you already feel the orgasm building. You mewl pathetically, eyes watering as you look around for someone to have pity on you.
It's Chan who catches your pleading gaze, but he only raises an eyebrow.
"You're gonna cum again? Already?" he says. It's not condescending or snarky, rather genuine disbelief and curiosity. His finger leaves your mouth and you let out a dry sob as trails of spit drip down your chin.
Jisung doesn't hear this– or can't, rather. He's fucking into you like he'll die if he stops, breathy moans leaving his mouth as he does. He's babbling nonsense, things like how tight you are and how well you take him in. You know he's close too, because his hips have gone erratic in their rhythm. Yet somehow, he gets faster.
The knot in your stomach feels heavy as lead. This orgasm might genuinely take you out. 
"Please," you rasp. "Please, please, I can't–"
Chan shakes his head, smiling. "Oh, but baby, I thought you wanted to cum?" 
"I do," you whine. "Want to so bad but 's too much. Too much, Channie, please–"
"No. Shut up and cum, princess," the grit in his voice is back. "Cum on Jisung's cock. Be good for us."
That's all it takes for you to snap. You let out a broken cry as another orgasm rocks through your body. It's even more intense than the others, pulling all of your muscles taut so you sit up before slumping back into Chan's arms. You barely register the way your hands flex uselessly above your head, writhing in Chan's grip. You can only vaguely feel Seungmin kissing your cheek, whispering little encouragements in your ear, telling you how good you are and how pretty you look when you cum.
And then Jisung is grunting, snapping his hips against yours one last time before spilling into you. Your walls spasm around him as he cums, milking him dry and causing you both to whine into the air.
In typical Jisung fashion, he's still rutting up into you after you're both well past overstimulation. The pressure in your cunt throbs throughout your body, tears springing into your eyes. You're very close to abandoning the little bit of pride you have and begging him to stop.
It turns out you don't need to, because as if on cue, Jisung finally pulls out and Seungmin lets go of your legs, standing up. You nearly sob at the loss of his gentle contact, so you don't even notice he's taking off his clothes until he's standing where Jisung was, hands gripping the soft skin of your thighs to hold you open. 
"Aw, baby," he says softly. He runs a hand up your leg. "You did so well."
You pout, a sob bubbling in your throat when you realize their plan now. They're gonna drag as many orgasms out of you as they can, overstimulation be damned. The thought makes your clit throb, and that alone makes you whine. It's all too much.
Despite knowing you're already so wet and lax and malleable, Seungmin reaches down to rub at your clit in an attempt to open you up. 
"Min," you cry, squirming at his touch. Your cunt feels tender, and even though the first set of tears are long dried up on your cheeks, fresh ones start to come. "Minnie–"
"Shhh. It's okay, angel."
His words are gentle and reassuring, but when his eyes catch yours, all you see is darkness.
Seungmin's gentle dominance has a limit. He doesn't get all stern and mean like Chan, or desperate like Jisung, but there's only so long he can last before that other, darker part of him surfaces, the one that gets off on hurting you, on seeing you in pain and feeling good from it. You can tell by the look in his eyes that this is the part of him you'll be dealing with.
When he finally sinks his cock inside you, it's slow, and the moan that he lets out vibrates through his length and right into you. Your neck seems to give up, dropping you right back down in Chan's lap less than gracefully. It gives him better access to you, and he leans immediately to attach his mouth to yours. He alternates between soft kisses and hard bites that will surely bruise in the morning.
Seungmin is only a bit longer than Jisung, but he's so damn girthy. Every tiny thrust he rocks into you sends shivers down your spine. Your skin feels like it's on fire and you're not even kissing Chan back, basically panting into his open mouth.
"Prop her up, Chan," Seungmin grits out. "Wanna watch her while she cries."
He gives you one final peck, and then the hand that's still holding your wrists lets go. It takes a second, then both hands are under you, lifting you up off the mattress until you're sat up on his lap with his chest against your back. He crosses your wrists against your chest and holds them in one hand, and then the other snakes up and finds your throat. His hand is way bigger than Seungmin's, and he's not as gentle when he squeezes and forces you to look back at him.
He doesn't look mad, or even turned on. He's smiling at you, like you're a particularly good puppy. "Good girl. Gonna give us a big one, yeah?”
You barely have a moment to understand what he's implying before you feel a hand on your clit. Both of Seungmin's hands are occupied, so you're not sure why it surprises you to see that it's Jisung's deft fingers on you. He's standing behind Seungmin, one hand on him and the other on you.
It feels like your eyes are bulging out of your head. The touch is gentle, but it still feels like you're being hit with lightning bolts. You're too spent to even buck up at the contact.
"Oh my God," you choke. "Oh, oh, I–"
“That's it,” Chan purrs when you cum again. He kisses whatever skin is closest to his mouth, his fingers gripping your jaw. Your head feels light, the only thing keeping you grounded to the bed are their hands on you. You feel like you're going to faint, and Seungmin's eyes are only egging you on.
Your body trembles so violently, Seungmin is forced to pause in his motions to hold your knees and keep your legs from buckling in. Your vision is blurry, but you can see Jisung has a steady grip on Seungmin's hair, effectively holding him in place.
"Good girl," he breathes, those big brown eyes trained on your face. "You take him so well."
His words send shivers down your spine. Jisung is always more coherent and in control after an orgasm. You know if Seungmin was today's focus, Jisung would likely be spitting all kinds of nasty, filthy words in his ear, but his gaze is fixed on you. All it takes to get you going is a good stare.
He taps at your clit with his free hand. You jump, moaning loudly at the contact, your back arching off Chan's chest and into Seungmin's body.
"She's good. Keep going," Jisung murmurs, pulling his eyes away from yours to look at Seungmin. He pulls a little at the hair on the nape of his neck, causing Seungmin's cock to jump inside you.
They work in tandem. Jisung's hand keeps circling your clit in the same soft rhythm, and you're not sure how but it's making you even wetter and more loose. You're a mess of moans, not knowing whose name to scream when they all have their hands on you. It's dizzying in the best way. 
Seungmin has started rolling his hips into you with more vigor, the soft sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. The dark shroud over his eyes is back as he stares down at you. "Feels good doesn't it," he grunts. "Look at your little cunt fluttering open for me like a good slut."
You feel another sob bubble out of you, this one accompanied by tears, but it dies in your throat when Chan's grip on you gets even tighter. All you can do is pout and whine.
"Aw, look at the little crybaby." Seungmin starts to fuck into you in earnest, his own moans getting higher in pitch. You can tell by the way Jisung's grip in his hair tightens that he's close. "C'mon angel. You're being so good, you can take it."
"Minnie," you rasp, barely able to speak. "Please–"
"I said take it." He’s looking down, watching where your cunt is sucking him in with each thrust. He thrusts into you particularly hard, and your entire body lurches forward, causing you to gasp. "And if you can't, you know what to say. You know your word."
You do. Somehow, under all the begging and pleading, you're actually insanely giddy with want. It's all part of the little game you play, so you just pout pathetically at Seungmin as his hips snap harder into yours.
"She's not gonna say it," Chan sing-songs. He uses the hand on your throat to tilt your head to the side, giving him perfect access to more of you. He nips at your skin. "She likes being treated like this. Like a little toy."
It's all too much. Every inch of you is on fire, the room feels like it's a thousand degrees. Chan's mouth on your neck, Seungmin's cock deep in your cunt, and Jisung's fingers–
It's like something snaps.
A knot you didn't even realize was in your stomach explodes and your vision goes white. It's an orgasm unlike anything you've experienced before. Your brain completely melts, your hearing dulls, and you can feel the drool running down your chin. You feel like you're floating and drowning all at the same time. 
"Oh shit," you hear Seungmin groan. Your cunt is spasming around him. His thrusts become harder, sloppy. "God, fuck–"
He cums hard inside of you, hips jerking as he chases the aftershocks. You've gone completely limp, barely able to move at all as Chan continues to bite at your neck.
The hand on Seungmin's shoulder drops. "That's so hot," Jisung mutters, almost to himself. He's lost some of his in-control voice. "Wow, baby, you should be bratty more often.”
If you could see straight, you'd probably laugh at that.
Seungmin pulls out slowly, and when the head of his cock leaves you, you let out a tiny mewl. You're overstimulated to the point that you're numb. Seungmin smiles softly as he rubs the inside of your thigh.
"Oh, sweetheart, I know. It's a lot. But you're being so good for us.  I think it's Chan's turn though, hm? Wanna make him feel good?"
"Give her a minute," Jisung chides. You hear a sharp intake of breath and you know he's likely yanked on Seungmin's hair again. "She's about to pass out."
You can feel your limbs slowly returning to you, the fog clearing in your head. When Chan moves the hand from your throat, you breathe deeply, taking in gulps of air as moves his hand down to rub against your tummy. Jisung and Seungmin are bickering somewhere around you, and you let yourself relax in Chan's hold.
"Do you want to finish now, princess?" His lips are warm against your ear. "We can be done. You don't have to take me.”
It's a very tempting offer, especially with the way you can hardly remember what day it is. You could easily take it and call this all done. The four of you have almost certainly been at this for more than an hour now, and they've wrung six orgasms out of you. They're sweet enough to offer to call it a night.
But then you think about Chan, and how, despite being the reason this all started, he's barely done anything. Hasn't tasted you, hasn't shoved his cock down your throat– He's usually not one for letting go until you've milked him dry at least twice, and you can't stand the idea of him having that buzz under his skin all night. 
So you shake your head.
"No?" Chan laughs, almost like he's surprised. "Really? You still want to finish with me? Are you sure, princess?”
He's giving you the same offer he gave you earlier. An out. Making your comfort the first priority. The thought alone is what gives you the strength to nod against him.
"'m sure, Channie."
"Oh, fuck, okay." His grip around you goes a little slack as he moves, pulling you away from his lap and  laying you back into your bed. He leans over you and presses a gentle kiss against your mouth. It feels like he's thanking you, almost.
When he pulls away, his eyes are sparkling. You want to look into them for hours.
He barks something at Jisung and Seungmin, and the bickering stops immediately. You hear shuffling around you before Seungmin takes Chan's empty space and Jisung appears at your side. They're pressing soft kisses to your face and praising you as Chan works his shorts and boxers down. When his cock springs free, he lets out a hiss of relief.
The sight of him alone makes anxiety rear its ugly head. You start to wonder if maybe you should've taken the opportunity to tap out, or if maybe you should use your safeword, but then Jisung is grabbing your hand and pressing kisses against it, squeezing you and keeping you tethered to the present.
"You can do it, pretty girl," he murmurs in your ear, breath fanning over your cheek. "You did so good for us, just a little longer."
Chan catches your eyes, and he smiles again, reassuring. His hand runs down your body and grabs one of your legs, lifting it and hooking your calf over his shoulder. "Gonna go easy, baby. I know it's a lot."
Your stomach is filled with butterflies, and your hands are shaking a little bit when he ruts himself up against you. You're so open from the others that when his head catches on your entrance, it nearly slips inside.  
Your back arches as you moan, and then his cock brushes against your entrance with purpose and it feels like you're going to split right open. He rocks into you again, pushing in the barest inch and pulling right back out. You whine and shift your hips in an attempt to escape.
"Come on, be a good girl now, princess." His voice has gotten lower, lust taking over. "Relax.”
His eyes flit up from where you're connected to look at you, and in one move he pushes right inside of you.
It doesn't hurt– you're way too wet and open for that. It does feel like your stomach is being forced open, however. Like his cock is pressing against all of your internal organs. You arch up off of Seungmin's lap and he pulls you back to him quickly.
Chan groans, bottoming out inside you. His eyes are closed as he lets himself bask in the sensation, hips rocking shallowly. You're thankful that he doesn't move immediately, but even the barest amount of movement feels like too much, like you'll come apart at any second.
You barely feel it when Jisung slips your hand into his. It takes you a minute to realize it's because your brain has been reduced to nothing. Your body has melted into the bed, your muscles are lax, and there's an emptiness in your brain filled with nothing but static and Chan's name. You don't think about anything at all, can't form a single coherent thought. You don't feel the kisses on your throat or the way Seungmin's hands have taken residence on your stomach. The only thing you feel is the overwhelming pressure in your cunt as Chan slowly pulls out, leaving just the tip, before pushing all the way back in.
He builds a rhythm quickly. Seungmin is holding you tight to his body, as though he's scared you might float away, and you appreciate it because it gives you another sensation to focus on. Your head is lolled against his shoulder, eyes rolled back into your head so far all you see is white.
The sound of Chan fucking into you is absolutely obscene, a mixture of your juices and the remnants of the cum still leaking from your hole. He fucks you slow, but hard, snapping his hips into yours so hard it almost feels like you might get a bruise on your thigh.
Jisung is watching with hungry eyes from your side. He's not touching you at all anymore, too engrossed in the scene unfolding to do much else other than stare with his jaw slacked. Seungmin takes over for him.
"That's it," he breathes. "That's it angel, look at you." He moves the hand on your stomach and lets his thumb rub circles on your clit. You feel like you're going to pass out. You don't get time to beg him to stop before you feel that same hand move to your mouth, and two fingers push past your lips.
"Here, sweetheart," he breathes, eyes fixed on your lips as you suck his fingers. "That's you on my fingers, baby. Isn't it good?"
You moan around his hand, head spinning both at the taste of yourself and the intrusion of Seungmin's fingers in your mouth. He's not fucking them into you with any kind of rhythm, just shoving them in there until you're dribbling around his hand. He hums happily when he pushes in more and makes you gag, kissing away the tears the spill over.
Chan grunts, head falling back. "Min, again, please, she just– fuck, she–"
Seungmin doesn't need to be told twice. He repeats the motion again, making sure his fingers go far enough so you're choking around him. This time, when you splutter and gag, you can feel it when you clench down on Chan and his cock pulses in response.
"Oh my God," he moans, thrusting into you again. "Oh my god, baby, you're so good. You're doing so fucking good–"
Between the movement of his hips and the feeling of Seungmin's fingers down your throat, you're not quite sure you're still on this plane of existence. Everything is spinning around you, your cunt is throbbing, you can hear Jisung moaning somewhere, but you don't know from what.
You can feel Seungmin's lips pressed against your forehead as his fingers fuck your mouth, your eyes rolling back into your head again. You're so lightheaded, so far gone, you can barely remember your name. 
It's when Chan starts to thrust faster that you come back to your body with a jolt, mind filling with white hot heat. The pleasure has long since lost it's edge, and you're a moaning, writhing, teary mess again. The coil in your stomach starts to build for the seventh time, and you're pretty sure your brain has gone empty. The only thing you're able to focus on is Chan. Chan, Chan, Chan.
"Almost done, angel." You register a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth, and then another on your forehead. You think the voice belongs to Seungmin. Maybe, if the way he eases his hand out of your mouth is any indication.
Nothing is making sense anymore. It all feels like you're having an out-of-body experience.
Chan's hips falter, and his hand slides up to your throat again, but he doesn't squeeze. Just rests it there as his orgasm approaches, hips snapping against you at an erratic rhythm.
"Sweetheart." His eyes flutter open with strained effort, but they remain locked on yours. "Can you give us one more, princess? Hm? Can I get you to cum on me too, please?"
There's a desperation in his voice that makes your body feel hot. You want to tell him yes, that you're close, so so close, but all that comes out is a weak noise that you're not even certain you made. 
Seungmin seems to get it though, because he slips his fingers down between your legs, finding your clit again. He rolls it between his fingers with one hand while his other reaches up and settles on your jaw. You feel Jisung's tongue flick over your nipple and your world draws to a pinpoint.
Chan curses above you, fucking into you at an almost punishing pace. "Yes, baby, let go for us. That's it. We got you."
It feels like someone's stuck a vacuum in your brain with the incoherent way you're thinking. The sound of his voice saying your name in that desperate tone is all it takes, and suddenly you're floating out of your body, ears ringing as the pressure inside you bursts. Your eyes roll back and the clinging remnants of an orgasm wash through your body. It feels more like an aftershock. You're only vaguely aware of the way Chan moans, loud and throaty, when he finally spills into you.
It takes a couple minutes before the two of you come back down to earth. You can't move, and even though you know Seungmin is holding you tight, it feels like you might drift right off the mattress and float up into the clouds.
Chan pulls out slowly, and you shudder when you feel a trickle of his cum leaking from your hole. It's not long before your eyes droop shut from pure exhaustion. You think you might pass out right on the spot.
The room gets kicked into gear pretty quickly after that. From what you can tell in the hazy state you're in, someone grabs a wet cloth to wipe you down with while someone else finds you a new t-shirt (and panties this time). They dress you like you're a doll, maneuvering your limbs and telling you you're good, you're so good, they love you so much.
Then you're scooped up into a pair of arms while the distant sounds of sheets being pulled off the bed floats up to you. They take you out of the room.
"You did so good for us, baby." The owner of the arms whispers against your ear. From the cadence in their tone you're pretty sure it's Jisung. "You were such a good girl for us, sweetheart. We're so proud of you."
You think you nod against him, but you can't be sure. You hear him kick a door open, and then he sets you down on a bed and you register Seungmin and Chan coming in.
"Okay," Jisung murmurs, going through his aftercare list out loud. "Fresh bed, fresh clothes, we got her some water."
You feel the bed dip behind you. "We got it, but she's gotta drink it, though," Chan chimes. There's fondness in his voice as he scoots closer to you. "Come here, baby."
You let yourself go limp, and a content smile plasters on your face as your boys fuss over you and make sure you're comfortable. They're so gentle, despite what just transpired, and they all take turns pressing kisses against your head, your cheeks, your nose.
When you've all settled into the bed, you feel three pairs of arms around you, holding you close, and you feel insanely lucky for all of it. You snuggle deeper into someone's chest, humming absentmindedly in that dreamy, fucked-out headspace.
"Thank you," you mumble, pressing a kiss to whoever you're snuggled against. You think it's Jisung from the way they nuzzle into your cheek.
"Of course, princess," Chan replies, his voice vibrating against your back. You feel his lips press against your temple, and you smile again. "You're our good girl, even when you're a brat. We'll always take care of you.”
You don't bother replying, simply allowing yourself to sink back into that fuzzy state. You're about to slip out of consciousness when you feel Jisung's nose against your cheek.
"You really do need to be bratty more often, though."
You hear a dull thump as Seungmin smacks the back of his head, and you let their hushed bickering be the lullaby you need to lull you into sleep.
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loverangels · 1 month ago
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pretty girl
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pairings: percy jackson x fem!reader
synopsis: being Percy jacksons girlfriend meant he wouldn't waste a second telling you how much you mean to him.
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Being Percy Jackson's girlfriend meant alot of things. It meant stolen kisses like saltwater. It meant constant touch no matter the place. It meant Percy wouldn't waste a second telling you how much you meant to him.
Showing you how much you meant to him.
You sat on his lap as you continued speaking in your rushed pace, excited babbling about your day. Another perk of being Percys girlfriend was that you both had his cabin to yourselves. Something Percy appreciated immensely.
'I mean they were adorable! I spent some time with them making bracelets before I-' you cut off your excited chatter as you felt Percy tracing small circles on your hips.
If it was anyone it would be harmless contact. But it was Percy. One small step to having you right where he wanted you.
You carried on nevertheless 'i decided to go down to the beach for a while so I could collect the shells for us-'
Percy nuzzled his face in you shoulder, looking up at you with those sea green eyes after noticing your pause.
'carry on pretty girl', he said acting oblivious as to what he was doing.
The bastard.
But you weren't going to show him the affect that sole action had on you so continued.
'well anyways as I was saying- I collected them shells so we can create those matching necklaces I was talking about last- Percy!'
By now he was peppering soft kisses on your shoulder trailing his lips up to your neck before hovering his lips over your ears.
'im not doing anything!' he defended but he couldn't hide the grin threatening to lift on either sides of his lips.
You huff 'you can't expect me to carry on when your kissing me.' you cross your arms pouting as you turn your head away pettily.
'come on' Percy trails as his hand cups your cheek.
You refused to budge and it seemed as though he also knew that pressing a quick kiss on your lips you couldn't help but melt into.
'go on I promise I'm listening' he grins as he pulls away watching how your face flushes.
'fine but if you dare interrupt me percy Jackson' you give him a pointed look before talking.
'and then-'
Another kiss.
'Perseus Jackson!'
'sorry pretty girl'
And you just couldn't help but melt.
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saturnicos · 1 year ago
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Giving a bracelet to them
With: Adam, Alastor, Angel Dust, Charlie, Lucifer
ps:: reader's gender is not mentioned
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. Charlie
She absolutely adores! Extra points if it have some decoration with rainbow.
She'll use all the time, only take off when goes to bed and when goes to take a bath — she is worried if she ends up breaking or losing the pieces, so try to be as careful as possible.
As she organizes and takes care of hotel paperwork she tends to feel stressed, and unconsciously looks at the bracelet, a smile forming and her spirits slightly picking up again. She's really happy with the gift.
"Wait, this's for me? Really? It's so pretty, thank you so very much!"
. Alastor
He... Definitely have it.
Like, don't get me wrong, he just not knows how really feel about it since he has never received a gift before from anyone, except from his mother.
Deep inside, he actually likes it! The color scheme matching with his clothes, and it isn't so much decorated and colorful; or how he would like to say, simple things are more pretty.
Alastor isn't using the bracelet frequently, most because he not like that type of accessories so much. He'll probably use when is far from you, like a way to remember of you and stuff (this man don't use phone not even if the world frozen), but in the most of the time the bracelet probably will be in the pocket of his coat.
"What do you have there, my dear? Oh, a bracelet, that's very interesting."
. Adam
He... Definitely have it/2.
But it's the opposite.
He's a bitch that will probably mock about it, but will quickly change when you feel upset and try to leave him alone, saying something like "Just joking, Sugartits/Hunk, I actually liked that, give me".
He'll use ALL the time, except when he's going to the extermination.
He will 100% brag about the bracelet to anyone when he gets the chance, saying how you spent your time making gifts for him (he's a complete idiot that loved this thing, but will never admit bc high ego lol).
Lute can't stand him talking about this damn accessory anymore, please, she begs you not to give him anything else.
TOTALLY extra points if it has a guitar pendant.
"Of course you make it for me, after all, you are madly in love with me"
. Angel Dust
Now, I think it's important to point out that Angel would act a lot more like Anthony with his S/O.
Using this as a base, he'll be SO happy receiving a gift from you. Obviously, he'll make some dirty joke about it, but deep down he wonders why he received it if it's not a specific date.
This poor boy is emotionally broken, little acts like this make him feel so moved and loved ☹️
Every time that him have a breakdown and isolates himself, Fat Nuggets comfort him, laying next to him and gently plays with the bracelet (or if he isn't using, Fat Nuggets will pick it up and take it to him, as if knowing it is an object of comfort).
"A gift? For me? You're so kind, baby~."
. Lucifer
Listen to me: this man would probably feel so much like crying — with joy — and nothing convinces me otherwise.
He'd passed the lasts seven years alone, without any love or compassion, having you in his life it's a great gift for him. Now, receive a gift from someone that he considers his greatest gift? God-
He would also be one of the will use all the time. Seriously, this guy probably don't take it off in any occasion, it's a regular reminder that there is someone else besides Charlie who loves him.
He's so grateful to have you.
Later, he'll make matching necklaces with duck pendants for you, he thinks that's a lovely way to say thanks :)
"What is this, sweetie? Oh... I'll use, that's so beautiful, thank you a lot."
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Thank you for read !! I'm so sorry if this is ooc, but I hope it was pleasant anyway :)
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antinitoniny · 5 months ago
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anton as your affectionate bf: headcanons
this is so long help + it’s organized in sections 😁😁
💭 anton x fem!reader
💭 texts in pink: oc, texts in blue: anton
💭 fluff fluff fluff (and crack)
physical touch
- anton might be the humanized version of ‘physical touch.’
- hand always on ur back or around ur hips
- top of the head kisses
- fixing ur necklace or hair while you’re talking
- as long as you’re in the same room, anton can’t last a minute without physical contact.
- anton’s hand will always be on ur hip or around ur waist.
- he’s backhugging u like 30% of the day
- morning kisses. barely awake kisses.
- tracing anton’s nose while he’s sleeping (he’s actually awake so he’s giggling w his eyes closed)
- “TON I LOVE U BUT IT’S SO HOT. STOP HUGGING ME” “are we breaking up”
- waking up w his leg on you, his face nuzzled on ur neck, and his hand placed light on ur head — it’s a heavy morning.
- “can i bite you?” */stares at anton for 5mins* “is that a yes”
- imagine being against pda while dating a guy who'd tear up if you sit on the other side of the table at dinner? yea, anton.
- fav kissing spot: anton’s nose
- his fav kissing spot: */his nose bled while trying to answer the question
- you guys would last for 5hrs on the couch in silence as long as anton’s wrapped around you
down bad anton
- when he’s talking about his day but you’re rlly focused on what he’s saying so he got flustered all of a sudden “stop staring at me, you’re making me nervous” — “YOU’RE telling a story, where else am i supposed to look at?”
- suddenly smiling from ear to ear during breakfast because “1 year ago, i just thought you’re really nice to me and now i’m eating breakfast with you in our shared apartment” */insert anton giggles (and grumpy you ‘coz u js woke up & he’s talking non sense)
- smiling from ear to ear whenever he hears ur name in his group of friends. (would result to 1hr of anton yapping about how cute you were yesterday and the day before that, and two weeks ago)
- anton buying matching EVERYTHING. and giving them to you with a shy smile.
- matching rings, matching trinkets, matching bracelets, matching phone cases— told u, everything.
- “why are you hugging me all of a sudden?” “you’re the cutest i adore you so much” (you’re just eating bread)
- “hi, can we date with the intention of marrying you & having pets as many as you want”, “anton, we’ve been together for almost two years”, “oh, i thought i was being delusional”
- even on casual days, anton would send his newly made playlists for you.
- "i'm gonna take a nap" "okay, me too" "are you sleepy?" "no" "then why..?" "i wanna take a nap with you"
- anton taking care of you when you're sick. and you always feel bad. "baby, sleep somewhere elsee. you'll catch my fever" "i can't sleep without you next to me"
- "have i told you that i love you?" - anton says while eating dinner.
- anton having five story highlights with just you
- anton using a photo of the two of you as his profile photo in every social media platform.
- has two pouches of things that you MIGHT need in his everyday bag (thats why his bags r always gigantic)
- anton's really expressive. he's expressive but would get shy right after saying that he loves you.
cute stuff
- "they're cute, they're just like us" - anton w every single couple in a romance movie
- anton learning how to cook your favorite foods & baking ur fav pastries at home
- would always be on a facetime w u even in social events (he can’t function w/o seeing u)
- anton massaging u after a long week !!!
- handwritten notes :(
- anton writing post-its and sticking it on ur forehead while you’re sleeping whenever he has to leave early in the morning
- anton writing DETAILED handwritten letters for you every monthsary to tell u his favorite moments w u that month, to tell u that he’s proud of u for every single thing that u’ve done that month. he’s such a words of affirmation guy.
- anton not ordering a lot because he knows that u get full easily so he’ll get to eat ur leftovers anyway
- but anton would always make sure that you’ll eat A LOT. that’s why he’ll research a lot about the restaurant menus that you’ll eat in.
- anton brushing your hair every night
- anton letting you style his hair (once went to work w pigtails)
- reading together (and anton falling asleep on ur shoulder right after one chapter)
- SUNDAY RESET IS ANTON’S FAVORITE DAY !!! the everything shower, doing each other’s nails, cooking together, eating a homemade fancy dinner with candles, talking about your week, and ending the day with wearing couple face masks while watching a 2000s romcom movie.
- anton going with you to ur nail appointment and him sitting next to you for 2 hours.
- anton’s closet is basicslly your closet, and your closet is basically anton’s.
- you wearing anton’s clothes & anton wearing your watches and accessories in a daily basis
- gazing at each other in the midst of the crowd, exchanging warmest smiles
- anton running to you to carry you in a hug
- you mentioning that you like this specific cake ONCE in a casual conversation and anton buying it for you every night.
- “did you hear something?” “BABY STOP SCARING ME”
- when you wanna wear something revealing but you asked anton first so now he doesn’t know if he’ll be mesmerized with you or he’ll be offended that you think he won’t let you wear that
- anton waiting for you to come home til midnight because he wants to have dinner with you (it’s 12am)
- anton carrying your handbag / shoulder bag as if it’s his bag.
soft spots
- arguments w antons barely happen but when it does, it often ends almost immediately.
- anton’s always the one to apologize first. even though you’re at fault, anton makes sure to talk to you without making you feel invalidated.
- anton’s definitely a date to marry guy. which is why during deep talks, he’s always talking about the future with you.
- anton finding you crying. he won’t ask why, he’ll just hug you warmly til you feel better. once you’re feeling better, he’ll buy u guys pints of ice cream and watch your comfort movie in silence and in each other’s arms.
- imagine anton’s soft voice welcoming you home after a tiring day. "how was your day, my love?" anton asks, carrying your bag, gently pulling you to the couch so he can massage your shoulders while you spend 2 hours talking about your day.
- mornings with anton are always so warm. you're cooking your breakfast while anton's just hugging you from the back. his face buried at the side of your neck, while talking casually about your plans for that day.
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months ago
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Dogs: Christmas
Keira Walsh x Laura Feiersinger x Child!Reader
Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle x Child!Reader
Summary: Christmas with Pup
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Lucy scrubs a hand over her face, yawning as she forces her eyes not to slump closed.
Late nights and early mornings clearly didn't agree with her anymore as she watches you whizz around the room with too much energy for seven in the morning.
Keira's seemed to doze off in the armchair by the tree while Ona and Laura happily work around each other in the kitchen.
"Presents now, please?" You ask, skidding to a stop in front of Lucy, who's only just realised that your Baby Sibling has finished their bottle of milk and fallen asleep again in her arms.
Lucy yawns. "You know the rules. No presents until everyone is ready. Ona and Laura are still busy with breakfast."
"I get them!"
"No, wait, Pup-"
You're already gone though and Lucy groans, moving your Baby Sibling up and attempting to burp them.
"She has too much energy," Keira complains, voice thick with sleep.
"You're not the one that got woken up first."
Keira yawns. "That's because she knows that she's got to wait until her clock has certain numbers to come and wake me and Laura. Why do you think I taught her numbers so early? I keep telling you to do the same but-"
You come skidding in again, slip-sliding over the area of wooden flooring before you're safely on carpet again.
"Mami and Mama say nearly ready! Have little pigs in blankets for us!"
"That's-" Another yawn from Lucy "-Great, Pup. Why don't you go and separate all the gifts into piles. Can you remember how to spell everyone's names?"
Your little face falls and you shuffle anxiously on your feet. "I don't. Sorry, Mum. I forgot."
"That's alright," Keira says, sitting up and snagging a pen and pad from the table," I'll write them out and then you can match the spelling to the words you see, alright?"
"Okay!"
By the time Ona and Laura come in with a tray of pigs in blankets and other small snack food that had all been properly cooked last night, you've managed (with Keira's help) to make little piles of presents for everyone.
You sit happily in the centre of the floor with Narla and Coco.
"You aren't going to open your presents, Pup?" Laura asks.
"No, Mama. I wait."
"Pup made us all gifts," Ona says," I think she's waiting for us to open them."
It's Keira that gets to hers first. It's quite badly wrapped but that's because you and Pina ended up fighting over the wrapping paper and tape at the arts and crafts table during training.
"That's us!" You say, pointing at the little misshapen plastic charm things that hang off the bracelet. "Is you because you've got your pretty curls!"
"Oh, Pup...That's so thoughtful, sweetheart."
Lucy's misshapen charm of herself is meant to have sunglasses on her because you think she's cool while you'd painted Ona's with stripes because she's fast like a cheetah and Laura's charm's head was fat because it was meant to represent the helmet she wears when she takes you climbing.
"Alright," Lucy says, hands covering your eyes," Now it's time for big presents. One from me and your Mami and one from your Mummy and Mama, alright?"
You try to pry Lucy's hands from your eyes. "And then tea time? Want to try my new puppy mug."
Lucy laughs. "Yes. Big presents and then we'll go and make a big brew so you can try out your new puppy mug."
"You ready, Pup?" That's Keira now.
"I'm ready!"
"Now," Lucy says," This one is from me and Mami."
Her hands peel away and you blink your eyes into focus.
Ona is standing behind a massive box.
"It's for your room in London," She says," Lucy's going to drill these into the wall for you."
"Like the climbing gym Mama take me too!"
"Exactly like that," Ona laughs," A little rock climbing wall just for you in the house with Mum!"
"Wow!" You say, eyes wide and face beaming with happiness," Thank you, Mum! Thank you, Mami!"
Lucy ruffles your hair. "You'll be the best climber in the world in no time!"
Keira rolls her eyes. "You better make sure those panels are secure, Lucy, otherwise you'll be in major trouble."
Lucy grins. "I've got this, don't worry."
Keira's hands covers your eyes now and you sit up properly again.
"And this big present is from me and Mama," She says," You're going to have to be very still and very quiet, can you do that?"
"I can."
"Good girl. I knew you could."
There's silence for a long while and then someone - Ona, you think - gasps.
"Kie, you didn't..." Lucy says.
There's a bit of movement in front of you and something wet comes across your cheek.
"Merry Christmas, Pup," Laura says as Keira removes her hands from your eyes.
Mismatched eyes stare back at you, a little tongue poking out of a little mouth and a little tail thumping against Laura's body.
"Puppy!"
Keira laughs. "Yeah, Pup, your Christmas puppy."
"My Christmas puppy? Mine?"
"Of course," Laura says," A puppy just for Pup."
"Is...Is a boy puppy or a girl?"
"It's a girl, Pup."
"I..." You look between your parents. From Keira to Laura and then from Ona to Lucy. "I...My book please? My puppy book?"
"I'll get it," Lucy says, standing up with your Baby Sibling in her arms," This one needs to be put down for a nap anyway."
You go flipping through your dog encyclopaedia the moment you're given it, trying to match a page in your book to the puppy in front of you.
You find it eventually, turning the book around for the puppy to say.
"This you," You tell her and you're pretty sure her tail wags even harder. "You're from...Mummy, what this word?"
"Australia, Pup. We went to Australia for the World Cup, do you remember?"
You don't actually but you nod anyway, looking back to your puppy.
"You're from Aus-tra-lia so...So you're like Bluey! Bluey's from there."
Your puppy wages her tail super hard.
"So...I call you Bluey. Merry Christmas, Bluey!"
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yanderestarangel · 6 months ago
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౨ৎ HEADCANONS COD || GHOST, KÖNIG, CAPTAIN PRICE — ROMANTIC SEX WITH THEM
TW: body worship, romantic sex, use of lingerie, ftm reader, v!sex, anal sex, blowjob, praise, daddykink, age gap, fluff, femboy reader, reader without top surgery.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡ GHOST ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡
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"I love you more than I can express."
♡⁠┊He is usually a quick lover and likes to mark you to show everyone that you belong to him, something in the nature of leaving you completely covered in love bruises that makes you dizzy.
♡⁠┊But something made him want to take it slow from that lazy and cold morning. He needed to go to work again on another Bravo 141 mission - however, seeing you needy and rubbing yourself against him, asking him to stay a little longer was like a siren song that he couldn't deny the call. "Are you feeling neglected, my baby?" Ghost speaks in a hoarse voice, slightly lifting his balaclava to meet your lips as he lay down on your bed again.
♡⁠┊You rubbed yourself against his muscular body, a silent plea for more than just making out – even though you knew you were going to be late, your husband couldn't deny you anything, so it wasn't a surprise to you when his fingers found their way to your pussy and began a soft dance on your clit.
♡⁠┊It didn't take long for Ghost to quickly take off his clothes and stand above you, his left hand holding your hip and keeping you where he wanted you to be, gently slamming his hips into yours as the wet sound of flesh against flesh filled his ears and made him dizzy. Unlike the other times, that morning he just wanted to feel you completely. He wasn't fucking you; he was making love to you and worshiping every inch of your body.
♡⁠┊"You look beautiful like this... You really complete me, don't you?" Ghost spoke softer than ever, his voice seemed like a balm that penetrated your soul – his free hand caressed your cheek and he stopped his movements long enough for you to feel his cock warm up a little more inside you. He momentarily took off his skull balaclava, so you could look directly into his face; his blue eyes seemed to want to tell you feelings that he didn't have the courage or way to say in mere words – one thing was certain, he loved you.
♡⁠┊He leaned in enough to press his lips against yours, Simon rarely kissed when you had sex, yet there he was – moaning into your tongue softly as his hips met yours again. Several "I love you"s came out of his mouth messily. His body trembled and the world disappeared completely as he explored every inch of your body as if looking for some detail he had never seen before.
♡⁠┊After a few more thrusts he finally cums inside your pussy, making you cling to him as you felt your stomach swell slightly from the amount of semen in your gut. He stood there, holding the back of your neck as he caught his breath.
♡⁠┊Ghost looked at his watch and sighed, realizing how late he was for work, but seeing you there, all beautiful and messy... He decided to stay, just for that day. "I'm not going to leave now, just rest my boy, when you wake up I'll be here." He said meditating in his mind that it was a great way to start his day, and maybe he should adore you a little more every day.
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⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡ KÖNIG ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡
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"You make me nervous... And I like it."
♡⁠┊He liked the softness of your skin on his hands, he liked the way you smiled beautifully and blushed when you were too embarrassed, he liked the way his bracelet matched yours and how beautiful it looked when you two held hands. König loved you more than he ever thought he could ever feel in his life.
♡⁠┊He was terrible with words, but every action he did was the purest to demonstrate how much he was in love with you; in fact, in love was an understatement, König was madly in love with you - in a healthy and good way. He was a military soldier trained for years, he could kill enemies and targets easily without any regret - and yet, you made him so nervous and out of himself, as if butterflies were growing in his stomach.
♡⁠┊And this also happened when you had sex. His muscular, imposing and scarred body was beneath you - his eyes had a solemn expectation of seeing you take control and enjoy his body. His hands held the soft flesh of your waist and he whimpered softly feeling your body connected deeply to his.
♡⁠┊You didn't know where the territory of intimacy between each other began or ended, at that moment, you and the Austrian were only one. "I... Love you so much, you're mine, aren't you, liebling?" König moaned muffled by his sniper mask, his muscles rippled slightly as he fixed his focus on your body and how your clitoris was swollen - because of the hours of the two of you exploring each other's bodies.
♡⁠┊You could see little tears welling up in his eyes – he was short-circuiting from so many stimuli together. The love in his chest that burned his insides all the way to his stomach with that cold, good feeling of being madly in love with someone, you made him lose control of his senses.
♡⁠┊He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, how much he admired you for being a strong man and that he was very lucky to have you in his life... However, the only sounds that could come out of his mouth at that moment were honeyed and hoarse moans, accompanying his eyes rolling back in his skull and him squeezing your smaller body tightly, to the point of leaving marks that would remain for another day.
♡⁠┊He whimpered louder, incoherent words, but you knew they were all just the purest love and affection for you. König held you tightly, making you sit on his entire length at once – the wet and pleasurable sensation made you milk his cock with your inner walls pulsing and wanting more – at the same time your partner quickly withdrew from your wet hole and came all over your belly, marking you as his again.
♡⁠┊"I love you..." Was all he could formulate as he buried his face in your soft flesh and waited for his heart and breathing to return to normal as his body went slightly numb. "You make me feel things I never thought possible... You are the man of my life and if there is a paradise I am definitely already in it, with you." He speaks with a certainty never seen before by you, his words came straight from his soul, making you feel more desired and loved.
♡⁠┊He slowly began to fall asleep, still holding you, as if he was afraid that you would disappear from his arms - one of his hands on the side of your ass while his cock softened against your stomach, the sensation still burned both of your skins, but you both just wanted to enjoy that moment without any extra feeling, just the purest and most peaceful love. In years, König could smile genuinely behind his mask, knowing that he had found something more to fight for.
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⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡ CAPTAIN PRICE ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡
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"I want more than your pretty face..."
♡⁠┊It was just supposed to be sex, he paid to have a young man like you to satisfy him and have a beautiful accessory by his side - but soon the captain found himself attached to you in a way he never imagined. You were a funny, smiling and bright man, just like a sunshine.
♡⁠┊The first few dates between the two of you were really comfortable – he was a gentleman with you and made you feel like the most desirable man in the world; and then he completely broke you in bed until you didn't even know how many times he came. Price was the type of sugar daddy who tries not to get attached to your presence but it doesn't take long for him to find himself thinking about your image after a few sexual encounters.
♡⁠┊It was never his intention to really fall in love with you... but the way you touched him, the way you smiled at him, the way that silk lingerie fell on your body and adorned every curve of your skin, the way you moaned and whimpered when his cock entered your pussy... It was too much for him to bear and see as just an exchange of monetary favors.
♡⁠┊You caused reactions he didn’t even think were possible. You were everything he dreamed of in a partner. Even without obligation, you kept him company and never asked for anything in return, listening to his stories about past missions and the challenges he and his team faced. Price always finished his tales with a soft sigh and a vulnerable look, realizing how much he had opened up to you. "Ignore that, my lad, I just ramble too much like every old man," he would say, trying to hide the blush on his face. It was so obvious how much he considered you more than just a mere companion.
♡⁠┊He wanted to be with you all the time. It became more than just a sugar daddy and sugar baby relationship—he really wanted something serious with you. However, his insecurities always prevented him from saying anything more; he would freeze every time he tried to invite you to something more romantic than a sexual encounter in a luxurious hotel room.
♡⁠┊That night was lighter and different from most of the ones you were used to having. Price wanted to express how much he wanted you more than a pretty face sucking his cock and walking around with luxury items bought by him. The white lace lingerie adorned your body and barely covered your shiny pussy – The captain was between your legs, his voluminous beard tickling your sensitive flesh with each protruding lick he gave with his tongue on your lips, making you press his head between your soft thighs and making you even more drunk with pleasure.
♡⁠┊The rose petals he had scattered on the bed earlier stuck to your sweaty skin – your breasts swayed with each movement of the older man’s tongue as you felt like a god for being so adored by someone. Your wetness spread across his face and skin, the scent of sweet musk making him dizzy and hard as fuck.
♡┊He rubbed his hips on the soft mattress, looking for some friction to warm his erection – you could hear small moans and husky words coming from his lips as his blue eyes devoured you inch by inch. "Fuck, you make me so hard, you don't know what you do to me." Price groaned hoarsely as he gently slapped your thigh to make you moan even louder for him.
♡⁠┊After making you cum again on his tongue – Price would get on his knees between your legs and rub his hard, throbbing cock against your entrance, wet with your juices and his saliva. The thick, warm tip of his shaft applied a delicious, slow pressure to your swollen clit, making you beg for him to fill you up soon.
♡⁠┊As soon as he did, the older man leaned in enough to kiss you as his hips worked at a slow, sensual pace – his muscular thighs smacked against yours while his balls slapped against your ass cheeks, making you hear a wet noise in the process. You saw Price's smile widen even more when he saw you blushing at him being so loving with you, treating you like the god you were.
♡⁠┊"I can't hold it anymore... fuck boy, you make my heart race." He said between moans, pressing his forehead against yours as he sped up his movements and made your curves jump out of the thin fabric of the lingerie you were wearing. He grabbed one of your breasts as he squeezed it tightly and came inside you without warning, it was a new but strangely hot sensation.
♡⁠┊He sighed and stared into your eyes, his breathing even meeting yours rhythmically. "You make me feel things... I know this should be a business relationship, but I can't let a beautiful boy like you escape me." The older man said with a soft smile and kissed you on the forehead. "Let's have dinner at a restaurant... Just you and me, no sex, no sugar daddy or sugar baby, just you and me, my prince, no pressure, obviously... I just want to show you that I fell in love with you much more, much more than your pretty face and perfect body." He said, looking at you with all the passion he could show – he didn't know where this relationship could go, but he wanted to try to love again and he wanted to love you, only you.
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𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒅 ©𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 2024. 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆
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avocado-writing · 6 months ago
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i'm not a very big chain person, but in my head i can picture so perfectly Logan getting him and his s/o a matching pair of chain necklaces or bracelets to quietly express his love and commitment. because, in comparison to other forms of jewelry, chains are durable- it's hard for a quality chain to break. to him, they signify how the bond you've fostered together is unbreakable too.
if he manages to get them in adamantium, there's the added layer of gifting you something made of the same material as his skeleton. his way of gifting you a part of him, of always being with you... ;-;
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He used to wake up to a pounding skull and a truly bitter hatred of the world. A constant stream of alcohol had managed to silence the first issue - or, at least, make it tomorrow Logan’s problem - but had just made the second one far worse. 
He knew he was a mean drunk. Wade never shied away from letting him know what a cunt he was when he was ten drinks deep, but it was easier to face life when he stopped trying to be gracious to it.
The world had never cared about him, so why should he care about it right back?
That was… before, though. Before you. Not exactly some sort of holy light but you’d been damn well close. Someone he’d wanted to get his act together for, try to break free from the cocoon of rot and misery he’d made for himself. 
So, nowadays, he wakes up to soft singing and the smell of frying eggs. 
You’re an earlier riser than he is, slipping out of his grasp somehow - he always tries to grab you and keep you in bed with him, despite your dramatic but insincere protests - and getting a start on your day to make the most of it. You’re so much more of a functional person than he is that it’s laughable (Wade has pointed this out a couple of times, while laughing, and you’d talked him down from giving the merc a claw through the eye). 
He drags himself to his feet and heads into the kitchen. 
The radio is on quietly and you’re half-humming along with it, trying not to be too loud so as not to wake him. You can’t help but sing and secretly it’s one of those little things he fucking loves about you. It’s how he can tell you’re happy, so he never wants you to stop. 
You hear him appear and turn with a smile so bright it outdoes the morning sun. Ahh fuck, and you look amazing. Those short pyjamas that highlight the curve of your ass, those stupid fuzzy slippers you constantly leave around the apartment for him to trip over…
… and there, around your neck and resting on your clavicle, the chain. 
He’d never been good at gifts, but he knew he wanted a way to match you. Something to look at in his own reflection to remember you’re waiting for him at home; a part of him to carry with you so you know he’ll always keep you safe. Your eyes had lit up when you’d opened the jewellery case he’d handed over, neatly wrapped by the store, and then welled with tears when he’d shown you his own one. With blunt, uncareful fingers he’d fastened the clasp at the back of your neck, breathing in the comforting smell of you when you’d wrapped your arms around him. 
“I’m so lucky to have you, Logan.”
He’s more lucky to have you. You shine in the sun and so does every adamantium link. A fucking beacon in this world for him. A lighthouse. Bringing him home. 
“Hey, baby. Sorry, did I wake you up?” you ask, turning the music off now he has your full attention. He considers this and smirks. 
“Mmm, if I say yeah, do you have to find a way to apologise?”
You grin at the huskiness of his early morning voice and the promise of what’s next, turning off the heat on the pan before inevitably forgetting and burning the eggs. As you step into his arms he knows what the rest of the morning will entail: he’ll take you back to bed and show you how much you mean to him, three or four times if he can coax it out of you, then you’ll head to the diner across the street to eat because you’ll be too boneless to do much of anything else. 
Sounds pretty fucking perfect to him. His mind flashes to the ring he has in its little box, the one he bought at the same time as the chains and keeps stuffed in one of his jacket pockets, and is sure one day soon he’ll have the courage to give that to you too. 
Taglist: @mildly-salted @belilwen @malfoys-demigod @falsewordz @tvwebs @getmeoutofhell @rush-the-stars @s1eep-o @yrthr @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @childeslegstrap
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surielstea · 8 months ago
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Heated Traditions
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Pairing: Bat Boys x Fem!Reader
Summary: Reader joins the three males in the sauna during solstice and things get more heated than just the steam.
Warnings: smut | minors dni | 18+ only | multi orgasm | foursome (f, m, m, m) | anal sex | p in v | oral (m receiving) | breeding kink | petnames | some other filthy stuff | enjoy!
4.2k words
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Winter solstice had come upon Velaris like a cold gust of wind, bringing powdery snow and the hectic holidays.
When I woke up to my mate's side of the bed being empty I knew exactly where he was, out in the cold, playing with snowballs like a child with the rest of his brothers.
I, however, hadn't been expecting the small wrapped box that was perched on his untouched pillow.
I sit up excitedly, running my hands through my nest of hair a few times before picking up the box and tearing it like a toddler on her birthday.
I come across a black velvet box, a note taped to the top of it and I smile as I recognize the neat handwriting.
I'm sorry I couldn't be with you this morning but I promise to make up for it later, here's your first gift of many, happy solstice darling.
- the most handsome High Lord
I giggle at the obnoxious title he gave himself and set the note down, then crack open the top of the jewelry box, revealing a stunning violet gem connected to a silver chain that glinted beneath the morning light. I smile, running my fingers along the chain that moves like liquid. The color of the gem reminded me so substantially of Rhysand's eyes, the familiar violet I saw every night before I went to bed and every morning when I awoke, except this morning, this morning when he gifted me the ability to feel seen by him at all times.
I can't contain my grin as I fasten the necklace around my throat, wishing he was here to help as I struggle with the clasp, but eventually, I get it, and it seems even more beautiful on.
I build my outfit around the necklace, putting on a floor-length gown of lilac silk, adorned by silver rings and a sterling bracelet to match the chain.
I do a light makeup look and fix my tangled hair into a simple style, leaving the now-tamed locks going down my back.
I exit my bedroom, toying with the jewel on my necklace as I do so, walking out into the hallway before entering the kitchen where Morrigan resided, sipping a steaming cup of cocoa. "Morning," I smile softly and she returns it, silently offering me a cup of the seasonal beverage.
"It's too early to look as good as you do," She claims after a moment of silently sipping our drinks. I shrug with a smile.
"Nonsense, I just always look good," I toss her a wink and she shakes her head with an amused grin. "When did they leave?" I ask, walking over to one of the many windows in the large house, peering out at the powdery snow and the white-capped mountains.
"Hours ago, they should be back soon," She joins me at the window, staring into the abyss of blinding white that took over the entire landscape. The two of us had been so caught up staring at the outside we hadn't even noticed the door open, and hadn't realized who walked in either.
"What are we looking at?" A familiar cold voice chimes from behind me and I jump, whirling around to face Amren who had a large bag filled with what seemed to be presents.
"Gods, you scared me," Mor presses a hand to her chest and I nod.
"Likewise," I mumble but the eldest of us just flashes a smile.
"It's my craft," She shrugs with a grin that wasn't entirely fae.
"We were just looking for the boys," Morrigan says, glancing at the window once more.
"You think you'll be able to see them?" Amren scoffs, moving past me and unlocking the sliding window before pushing it open.
We wait a moment in silence then suddenly, lo and behold, Cassian's raucous laughter from the distance cuts through it. A smile spreads over my lips at the familiar sound but it's quickly wiped away as a frigid breeze gusts in, causing the three of us to huddle closer to the fire on the other side of the room. My entire body trembles against the below-freezing weather.
The low temperature sends a shiver down my spine, resulting in an overwhelming cold sensation that overstayed its welcome. I found that even minutes after the window had been pushed shut again I had still been caught shivering.
"I think I'm going to take a hot bath, I'll see you guys for presents," I say with a soft smile, and the both of them nod, waving me off as I back away from the window and pad back to my bedroom to run the bath.
I make sure the water is steaming before I plug the drain and allow the tub to fill up, I was still cold, and taking off my clothes before I was ready to get in turned out to be a horrid idea.
"If you're so desperate for warmth you could join me in the sauna," my mate hums in the back of my mind and I startle slightly, forgetting he had the ability to see through my own eyes.
"Were you looking while I was staring in the mirror?"
"Would you think anything less of me if I was?" He hums and I roll my eyes, sending the message through the bond.
"That's not an answer, and no, it's expected of you by now," I retort, crossing my arms to provide some sort of body warmth while the tub slowly fills.
"Come join us, I won the snowball fight and I wish to celebrate," He claims and I scoff, sending my displeasure to his side of the bridge between us.
"Keep it in your pants." I toss back.
"I'm afraid we don't wear pants in the birchin." He reminds and I freeze, remembering the fact that all three of those tanned, muscular males are all sitting in that cedar-lined shed naked, but most importantly, sweaty. Gods it would feel so damned good to feel that warmth at the moment.
"Darling," He drawls, pulling me back to reality and away from my enticing daydreaming.
"I thought mates were supposed to be territorial," I state, holding my ground despite the slight waver in my voice.
"I've shared before, and you never seemed entirely opposed to my brothers either," He argues as if I was to blame for his fantasies. And perhaps I was because it would be a lie if I said I hadn't thought about all three of them at once, more than once.
"I can feel your arousal, just join us we won't bite," My mate continues. "Unless you want us to," He adds and I couldn't find it in myself to deny that kind of pleasure any longer. So I grabbed my robe and tied it tightly around myself.
"Atta girl," He muses and I slam my walls up, blocking his annoying triumph out as I make my way towards the Sauna connected to the side of the house.
I had to fight back the thoughts telling me not to do this while approaching the door, but Rhys was pacing back and forth on the edge of my mind, reminding me he was waiting with just his presence.
Before I can psych myself out, I unlatch the door to the birchin and slide it open, unleashing a gust of boiling mist. But once it clears I'm met with three tan, winged males looking up at me expectantly, entirely naked.
I attempt to avert my eyes as I step into the steaming room, looking at Rhys only as I slowly untie my robe and let it dip off my shoulders. They've all seen a female's body before, this was no different. I let my robe fall to the floor but I didn't dare bend over to pick it up, their gazes were already predatory the last thing I wanted was to tempt them. I settle onto the bench right beside Rhys, facing Cassian and Azriel.
"You still cold?" My mate hums and I look up at him, silently shaking my head. A feline smile stretches over his features. He doesn't say anything else, only tilts his head back and shuts his eyes, letting the hot steam absorb him.
I look at the log-built structure of the bathhouse, the walls compacting me in here with sweating, Illyrian warriors. I tried and keep my gaze away from the two males in front of me but the task was torture and I was weak. I hadn't realized I was staring at Azriel's rippling abdomen until he shifted his hips and my head snapped away. And I definitely didn't notice when I was staring at Cassian's arms until he cleared his throat and I opted to just look at the floor.
Rhys chuckles, and even though he was looking up at the ceiling I knew he could feel both my embarrassment and my arousal.
He slings an arm around my shoulders and the touch almost burned with how damned hot it was in this room. Or had I been imagining it? Was it me who was flushed or had it been the steam?
"You have a staring problem, darling," my mate purrs, and the smile of his two other brothers grows.
"Sorry," I frown.
"Don't be," Cassian speaks up and Azriel silently smirks.
"Is it too hot in here? We could always go back to the bedroom and cool off?" Rhys suggests, pecking up the side of my jaw. I blush at the idea of our bedroom, it was so innocent yet my mind could only morph into something inappropriate.
"No, I'm okay," I shrug him off and he pecks my cheek.
"Just let me know if you change your mind, alright?" He says, and I translate it in my head that he was giving me an escape if I needed one, between the three of them he was telling me to leave before it's too late. But gods, why would I ever take myself away from this?
I only nodded, then returned to my unsolicited staring. My eyes widen a fraction when I notice Cassian was semi-hard, his heavy cock slowly rising as his eyes run up and down my nude figure and I swallow thickly, attempting not to stare for too long at his angry tip, or the vein pulsing underneath, and perhaps it was sick of me to want to run my tongue up that very vein.
Azriel's wings ruffle and it steals my attention from Cassian straight to him. He was in the same boat as Cassian, a bead of precum pearled at the head of his cock, he was much longer than the other two males I sat with, and I wanted to know just how deep he could reach inside my throbbing cunt, wanted to feel him release in my very womb.
"Darling." Rhys's voice in my head makes me jolt, earning a few concerned glances from the others. "Do you want to tell them what you've been thinking or should I?" He hums aloud and I look up at him with concern, my brows scrunched as I shake my head in panic. "You want me to?" He suggests and again, more fervently this time, I shake my head. "Then go on, tell them," He nods encouragingly and I tear my eyes from his violet ones, looking to hazel instead.
"I," My words get stuck in my throat, I couldn't even think anymore without it being utterly lewd.
"Tell them what you want to do to them, what you want them to do to you," Rhys croons, tilting his head back and delighting in the shameful torture he was putting me through.
"I want," I'm left breathless, words come up short and I can barely conjure thoughts against their carnivorous stares.
"Spit it out sweetheart," Cassian adjusts his hips and my eyes dip down to his now fully hard member, thick between his thighs. My nails dug into the bench that I was gripping so hard I thought it might snap.
"I want to wrap my mouth around your cock," I confess and if he wasn't hard before he certainly was now, his tip angry and pulsing red.
"And, Az I want you inside me," I murmur.
"Where?" Rhys cut in.
"My cunt, please I need all three of you inside me," I beg, my body glistening with sweat as they all stare at me with equally starving expressions.
"Is that right?" Azriel finally speaks and something inside me snaps, I don't feel shame anymore, only a relentless need for all three of them.
"Mhm," I nod, biting at my lower lip anxiously at the idea of them denying me and leaving me humiliated.
"Let's give her what she wants," Rhys tips his head down to look at me.
"She's been so patient, haven't you my good girl?" He asks and I blink up at him with a nod, agreeing to whatever he wants me to.
Cassian and Azriel both stand and my head whips towards them, their hardened cocks pressed against their abdomens as they approach closer. I'm wobbly as Rhys helps me stand, before he comes behind me, trapping me in a circle of all three of them. Their frames towered over me and their dark, large wings created a shield around me so any which way I turned I was met with one of their bodies.
"Who do you want in control?" Rhys tilts his head and I look between all three of them before returning to my mate.
"You," I press a hand to his abdomen.
"Yeah?" He arches his brow a fraction and I nod.
"Then why don't you go let Az stretch you out, just how you wanted hm?" He offers and I nod. Shadows twist around my limbs as Azriel's scarred hands meet my hips, guiding me closer as he sits on the bench, his legs spread as I straddle him and the others watch.
My cunt was pulsing with need as his hands travel anywhere they can reach, spending a particular amount of time at my breasts. I look back to Rhys, spotting the two others as they simply watch, their hands fisting their own cocks. My mate nods and I align myself before slowly, so slowly, sinking down onto him.
Azriel groans, tossing his head back in ecstasy as I make my way further down his impressive length. He pinches my nipples and I mewl at the intense feeling. It was so fucking hot in this room and something told me it wasn't because of the steam. I dip further down, clenching around him as my nails dig into his shoulders.
"Fuck, you're taking me so well," He praises and I cry, he was pressing hard into that perfect bundle of nerves nestled deep inside of me.
"Hurts," I choke out and a sadistic smile spreads across Azriel's face.
"Yeah? Am I too big for your tight little pussy?" He purrs and I nod, my bottom lip pouting out. He grips my breasts in his large hands, groping them as I squirm, loving the way I forced myself further down onto him even though it was painful, all because the pleasure outweighed everything else.
I marveled at how there could still be more of him, my cunt was being stretched beyond capacity and he loved every second of it. My moans filled the room, Azriel's grunts joining in with every roll of my hips.
Eventually, he couldn't take my slow pace and thrust up into me, all of him sheathing inside me like I was a mold for him and him alone. He turned me into a cock sleeve as he began to pummel into me and I was left wailing into the side of his neck, unable to form words as he fucked me senseless.
"Fuck," He curses, tilting his head back as I swallow him in my pussy, dripping onto him.
"More," I whimper. "Want Cass," My words were so weak that it was a wonder how the others heard me over the lewd slapping sounds of skin between me and Azriel as he drove his cock deeper and deeper with every thrust.
Azriel shifts to the side as Cassian approaches, allowing me to look at the tall male, his cock directly in line with my mouth in my seated position.
"Suck him off, baby," Azriel grunts out, his words lustful as he watches my hesitant kitten licks down the length of Cassian's girth. I flitted my gaze up to his as I get to the base of him, then run the flat of my tongue up the protruding vein of his cock all the way to the tip, just like I wanted. He groaned at the feeling as I began to swirl my tongue around his slit, slowly forming my mouth around the head of his thick cock. Azriel continued to pummel into me so much that it was hard to focus on just Cass. I began to moan on his cock, forcing myself to take him deeper into my mouth, sloppily swirling my tongue around his member.
"Don't be shy, fuck her mouth," Rhys instructs. Cassian looks down at me with raised brows and I nod, whimpering on his dick as he grabs the back of my hair then pushes all of his length halfway down my throat. I fight back a gag and instead suck on him harder, hollowing my cheeks as my mate's best friends fuck me simultaneously, leaving me drooling from both holes.
My slobber is used as a lubricant for Cassian's cock, allowing him to easily take himself in and out from between my swollen lips.
"Gods, you're so pretty choking on my cock," He hums and I can't help but moan, sending vibrations up his spine. He groans at the feeling, his head tilting back, looking up at the ceiling as his heavy cock twitches against the soft walls of my throat.
"I want you too," I beg Rhys through our mental connection. "Please." My whines are met with his compliance, silently coming behind me. I arched up, originally for his entrance only but Azriel was now hitting so much deeper at the slight change of position.
"You sure about this baby?" Rhys asks from behind me, his large hands kneading the fat of my thighs in his hands and I nod.
"Mhm," I gargle against Cassian's cock, and the male hums with pleasure, while Rhys presses a soft kiss to the side of my neck, he then runs his fingers through my neglected folds, gathering my arousal before smearing it against his length, using it as a natural lubricant until he was covered in my slick from base to tip.
He prodded at my third entrance and I gasped out, unsure if I really could take all three of them at once, I've dreamed of this situation a multitude of times but this was somehow reality and I doubted I could fit all of them.
Rhys pushed into me anyway. I moan loudly around Cassian, my mouth clamping down onto his base and he grunts, tossing his head back. Rhys felt so damned big, continuing to push into me deeper and deeper. It felt euphoric the way Azriel and Rhys brushed up against each other inside of me through my gummy walls, pushing against them beyond capacity.
Azriel's hands tweaked my nipples, bringing me back to him and how good he made me feel, but it wasn't long until it was Cassian who had my attention, gripping the base of my hair and pulling at it whenever I sucked him too hard. But Rhys stole it quickly, his member finally sheathed entirely inside of me, leaving me helpless between all three of them.
Cassian twitched inside of my mouth and I knew he was close so I focused as best I could on him, hollowing my mouth around him and sucking hard. He looked down at me in a haze of lust, his hand on my hair loosening as he spurt his seed down my throat without any warning. I swallow, my throat squeezing around him as I do so. He begins to slowly pull out but before he can get away fully I suck eagerly at his tip, milking every last drop from him, reveling in how good it tasted beneath my tongue.
He smiled lazily down at me, seeing how just much I delighted in drinking him for all he's worth. I was drunk on his seed, warm and salty and so fucking delectable. I swirl my tongue around his overstimulated tip once more before pulling away fully, letting my attention fall to Azriel beneath me and allowing Cassian to clean himself up.
The shadow singer is strategic. He knew where every perfect spot inside of me was, and he tortured the areas like one of his victims. He didn't slow for a moment, he only went faster. He had me wrapped around him first and I had a feeling he'd get me last.
I panted, falling down onto his chest, my elbows giving out. Rhys gripped my hips and held me up in an impressive arch, my back forming a crescent moon as they both continued to pump into me and I laid there like an overworked doll, sandwiched between their sweaty bodies.
I don't know how many times I had came at this point, they were both so damned good it felt like the orgasm was a never-ending flow of euphoric bliss. "Gods," I mewled. "S'too much," My pleads didn't seem to reach their ears, they were too busy listening to the noises my cunt made as Azriel pressed into me.
"Shh, you're doing so well for them," Cassian kissed the top of my head, reaching down with a large hand and immediately finding my clit. I gasped, clenching tightly around both of them, to which they both twitched inside of me, the movement foreign yet so pleasurable. Cassian began rubbing my clit in tight, rough circles with his calloused fingertips, adding so much more friction.
"Cass, tell them I can't," I look up at him with teary eyes and pouted lips.
"I'm sorry sweetheart, but this is what you wanted hm?" He kisses down the side of my face. "You wanted all of our come stuffed inside you, isn't that right?" He smiled. "Our perfect cum slut.”
I nod, my nails scratching down Azriel's chest as he rolls his hips up at a certain angle. None of them relent from their movements and I was overflowing with pleasure, my legs jolting as I writhed between them.
"Rhys," I moaned, throwing my head back onto his shoulder.
"I'm close, don't worry baby," He whispered and I nodded, a breath of relief escaping me. My hand reached up and cups Azriel's jaw, leaning down and placing my lips onto his.
He twitches at the action so I continue. I slip my tongue between his sensual lips, brushing it against any expanse I could reach, loving the way he met each flick of my tongue with a stroke of his cock running through my cunt. "Mph— are you close?" I lift slightly, looking at Azriel and he looks up at me in a haze, nodding his head. "Fill me up, please Azriel I've always wanted your cum inside of me," I purr into the shell of his ear.
"Me too," He sighs out, clawing at my waist. "Ever since I saw you I've wanted to put my seed inside of you," He confesses and I smile, delighting in how much harder this was all making Rhys which he pushed deeper and deeper into my ass.
"Yeah? Do you want to put a baby in me? Breed me?" I softly suggest and Rhys groans from behind me, my filthy words spurring him into an orgasm.
"Fuck, yes," Azriel grunts, shifting his hips and beginning to press his tip into my cervix. I cry out at the sudden change of pace, my eyes welling with tears again. Rhys' warm release pumps into me as I squeeze tightly around him, milking him of it as he slowly pulls out and Azriel goes utterly feral, bouncing me on his cock with his tough thrusts, eager to put a baby in me.
"You're going to look so pretty with your tits leaking milk," He hums. "Can't wait to get your belly all round," He adds and I let out a lewd moan at his words and how much truth they held.
"Please, feels so good," I sigh, rubbing up and down him.
"Yeah? Can't wait until I can fuck another one into you, give you a big family hm?" He suggests and I nod dumbly. "Maybe we'll all get a turn with you until you're left with all our kids," He grins at the idea. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" He says as I kiss up his jaw, reveling in how fucking good it felt every time he pressed into my cervix.
"That's right, 'cause you're just our bunny who loves to be bred," He hums, cock twitching inside of me as my cunt twitches at his words.
"Yes, fill me, wanna be your bunny," I murmur onto his hot skin and he obliges with my request, his release spurting up into my womb.
I clenched tightly around him at the feeling of his warm seed continued to pump into me with his thrusts that began to slow until coming to a stop and pulling me off of him, leaving me with hot cum drooling out of each of my holes, just how I wanted.
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hopelesslygaysstuff · 1 month ago
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I've been thinking a lot about Wanda as your Dominant ♡
She's very strict, but not in a mean way. After all, you thrive off of discipline, so her expectations are clear and you enjoy following them. Of course, she enjoys correcting you if you break her rules or deliberately disobey them.
She displays lots of subtle shows of dominance. Her hand on your thigh, or around your waist, and occasionally on the back of your neck as a warning if you're really acting up. Always ordering for you, or taking the lead in public, her hand firmly wrapped around yours.
She's very gentle when she knows you need it, but she's also perfectly content with being rough with you. On the days that you can tell she needs a more relaxed, gentle night, you resist any urges to brat out, telling her how much you love her as she sweetly dominates you. Of course you also beg to make her feel good, for her to use you however she needs to make herself feel good.
Again, I love subtle collars. She would get you one in the form of a permanent necklace in whatever metal you prefer, wearing a matching permanent bracelet on her left wrist. You love being owned by her, and she loves being able to call you wholly hers.
You love to eat her out for hours at a leisurely pace, either while she's working or reading a book or watching a movie. You love the way her hand gently rests on your head, her fingers scratching slightly as she makes small sounds of pleasure, her neck flushed by the time she orders you to make her cum.
I need a dominant girlfriend like right now, I'm going insane ♡
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eightstarr · 3 months ago
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pacify — sevika.
summary: is it possible to miss a stranger, or does one thing negate the other? maybe you miss sevika because she isn't a stranger, because she stuck her claws far too deep in you and never let go— or just because she looks really fucking good sitting there, looking at you like she's waiting for you to say "hello again".
warnings: mild descriptions of violence, smut (mdni!), pre time jump sevika!
notes: my thesis with this one is that eating out a woman you love will revolutionize you in a way nothing else can and i'm joking but also dead serious. also dear god please me and who… okay bye i love you
・。.・゜✧・. ────
“You know, I’ve always liked this place the best.”
It’s the first thing you remember him saying, blue uniform to match his now slightly reddened eyes, vile alcohol in his breath. You’re at a different bar, not Vander's, the first actual job you ever had if you don't count what came before— the shiny rock of a stranger’s ring in your pocket, another’s gold coins in your bag, all from the quick trips to the city above with your father. “It’s not difficult to steal from a Piltovan,” he’d say, squinting at the engraving on the inside of a sparkly bracelet, a small bounty spread over the kitchen table, “they’re all show, all ego.”
Now watching the smirk on the Enforcer’s face after he downs his fourth glass without taking a breath, a laughable skill for an audience of no one, you find it hard to disagree with your father’s assessment. The well nurtured instinct to wonder what you’d get if you slipped your fingers inside the pockets of his tailored jacket grows loud and tempting in your head, but you shove it away and keep your eyes on the dusty floor you’re meant to sweep, determined to keep this job.
“The drinks are better than up there, I’ll give you that,” the drunk man continued, half empty fifth glass tipped dangerously towards the brooding barman, your only coworker tonight. There’s barely anyone left in the bar at all except a couple regulars. Tension has been brewing through the entirety of your shift, an argument in one of the booths during your first hour, a drink on someone’s face by the third, a wave of tired scoffs when the man in uniform walked in near the end of the night; the last nail on the coffin. In your head, you’ve listed all the possible exits you could use to escape enough times to memorize them.
The man takes a surprisingly controlled sip, thin lips furrowed in a grimace. “Wish it was enough to make up for that fucking stench.”
The air in Zaun is different to foreigners. You’ve never minded it the way they do. It's your air, the first to ever fill your lungs, the one you’re so used to that you can feel the way it shifts— the way it becomes a stench, as he called it, when blood is about to be spilt.
The barman does, to his credit, offer you the chance to leave. Or orders it, morelike, his sharp eyes meeting yours and then a tilt of his head towards the door. Maybe he pities you for the nerves splashed all over your face, or maybe he’d just find it a shame to lose an employee he hired barely a month ago. “You. Out.”
“Out?” the Piltovan repeats, turning his head, his voice grossly high pitched. “Why? What's gonna happen now?” he’s drunk enough that you notice the seconds that pass before his eyes properly focus. You remember the exact way his smirk faded, the deep-set wrinkles between his eyebrows when he recognized your face, a nauseating anger. “No. No, you don't move.”
Enforcers never go anywhere alone. Maybe the man had just remembered this, just now realized the true risk of his cockiness when it's not backed up by two or three of his colleagues. Maybe that's why he finds it easy to target you rather than the angry figures lurking in the tables behind him. Maybe that's why he draws his gun so fast.
“I know you, little thief—”
A woman approaches at the same time he does, and you don't know why exactly you decide to focus on her instead. A plea, maybe. You remember the dull gray of the brass knuckles on her fingers, the thick leather belt hung around her lower waist, the thump of her boots against the old floorboards. You've never noticed her before. How ridiculous it feels to think that she was there all night. How lovely that she could be the last thing you see. There's comfort in her being there, a morbid, sad thing that feels almost like company. At least you’re not alone in the room with the monster, at least there's someone to watch you die. 
Her hand falls on the Enforcer’s shoulder and she pushes him back with little effort, the quickest movement, almost without thought. The man stumbles (blame the well praised alcohol or Sevika’s strength), and the glass that had stayed in his hand shatters against the edge of the bar at the same time his gun fires a loose shot to the wall behind you.
Next comes a blur, a vague memory of hearing the Enforcer hiss in pain, a thread of red spilling down the open palm of his hand.
“You got somewhere to go?”
Her voice is the first and only thing that brings you back, the only sound louder than the heartbeat pounding in your ears. She sounds smooth, clear-headed, not like a woman who just stepped in the middle of the fastest paced violence you’ve ever encountered. Gray eyes move across your face, then the rest of you, and you quickly look down at yourself as if to check along with her that you’re actually unharmed.
Your lips feel awfully dry when your tongue brushes against them, enough air passing through to let you breathe, but not quite talk. You nod your head and remember in a rushed, distorted thought— somewhere to go, yes, home, now.
Sevika returns your nod, small praise, an odd way of saying something like good job. Less odd than the quiet satisfaction you feel for having earned it. She tilts her head towards the door, short black hair brushing her shoulder, her voice the kindest you’ve ever heard to this very day. Perhaps the thing you remember most. “Go on, love.”
─────✧・゚: *✧・
Years pass, deaths and joys and new odd jobs, and you still think about it. She sits at the back of your head like a softly worded reminder. And then one day, as things go, you find her again. Her making a deal at the back of The Last Drop, you behind the bar serving drinks.
There's a chance she doesn't remember it. What are the odds that she thought about you at all after the incident? You were just a stranger on a random night. It's not often that people fully understand the weight of what they did for someone, the trickle down of an action, of a kindness. There's a chance for you to go home, alone and unchanged. Instead (and not for the first time) you work for an hour longer, unpaid labor for a chance to serve her a drink.
Sevika doesn't come every night. You see her maybe once a week, talk to her maybe once a month. You don't expect tonight to be any different, but—
“You gonna watch me all night?” she mutters it into her glass, swallows the last sip before she looks at you. The are tiny wrinkles beginning to form on the corners of her eyes now, along each side of her lips from her smiles. Watching her is entrancing, the easiest thing you do, as natural as drawing a breath. “What are you still doing here?”
You blink downwards at the washed glass in your hand, continue to dry it like it could ever be half as interesting as being under her spell. “Working overtime.”
“Vander can't afford to pay you overtime,” Sevika scoffs, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smirk. 
You frown, maybe a little flustered. “He—”
“She's right. Why are you still here?”
The man himself stands tall to your left, glaring at this one permanently stained spot on the bar, working at it with a rag like he hasn't tried the same thing a hundred times before. There are dark shadows under his eyes, a purple hair tie on his wrist— Powder’s, if you were to guess. You’ve grown close to Vander since you met him, even closer when he hired you to work here. “‘S not a favor,” he’d said, quickly catching the suspicion on your face. “Just a gesture to him.” Turns out a lot more people knew your father than you thought; Vander isn’t old enough to have grown up with him, but they still found ways to end up at the same places. If he hadn’t been so secretive about who he was beyond the man who raised you, maybe you would’ve met Vander years ago, became friends at some bar in your teen years instead of at a diner a few days after your father’s funeral. But gaining a friend is a timeless thing, it obeys luck, not sensitivities. One day he wasn’t there, and then the next he was.
You spray some cleaning liquid over the spot on the table, roll your eyes as he leans closer to wonder at how the stain begins to slowly fade. “I’m working,” you repeat.
He looks at you from the corner of his eyes, one eyebrow raised. “I ain’t paying you.”
“I know, okay? It's fine,” you cross your arms over your chest, embarrassed to have been caught even though neither Vander nor Sevika seem to know what the real reason behind you staying late is. “It's a busy night, take it as a favor.”
“I can't afford favors.”
“Good thing they’re free, then,” you deadpan.
Sevika chuckles at the banter, forever amused at your unreserve, how simple you make things. It makes no sense to her to be that generous, that open, but it makes even less sense to think that you’d be any other way. Sevika isn’t particularly trusting, but she is loyal— the more you talk, the more watching you becomes addicting, her thing. She fixates on learning new things about you, clings to your words like a cat to its owner’s scent and wonders, over and over and over, if you remember her. From all those years ago. From last week. With you, she’d take anything.
And when she does finally see you up close, finds a good enough excuse in asking you for fire or a refill, there's little you could ask that she would say no to. It's senseless and thrilling and above all, it's true. She feels it down to her bones, painfully clear, like it's written all over her face.
“What do you do, Sevika?”
Sit and wait for you, she thinks, and instead replies, “What?”
“For work,” you clarify, your hand against the bar, leaning slightly forward. “I see you every week and I still don't know.”
You do know what she does, at least as much as anyone else does— too little to run your mouth, enough to stay away. And if you didn't know, you know her enough to be certain that she wouldn't tell you. It's a pointless question. Unless, of course, you’re as infatuated as you are.
Sevika takes another gulp of her drink, her eyes tracing over the line on your waist where the apron ties behind your back, the soft curve that the pull of it forms. She needs a smoke. “Same shit as everyone else,” she answers, and palms her pockets for a cigarette case. “What do you do? Other than this.”
“This is it,” you watch her flick open the case and shrug. You don’t sound particularly sad or frustrated, just plainly aware. “I pour drinks for people who all seem to do the same shit.”
Sevika hums, sets the case down, a click of metal against well worn wood. An unlit cigarette sits between her index and middle finger. “Be honest,” she starts, and it's the same voice that's been talking to you this whole time, but the gruffness still manages to catch you off guard. “Am I just as bad?”
You chuckle, the same addicting shimmer of genuineness in your eyes that she chases everytime you speak. “Just as bad as what?”
Her eyes follow your hands where they go to pull a lighter from the chest pocket of your apron. “The drunks that flirt with you while you do your job,” she lets the cigarette hang from her lips and leans forward.
“Hm,” you hum. The reflection of the flame sparkles in her eyes before you pull it away, orange against gray, odd and pretty. “I don't know.”
You’re not sure if she looks amused or slightly offended. It's a nice view regardless, the way her eyebrows lift and her lips curve downwards for a second before she breathes out, spilling smoke from her mouth as she talks, “You don't know.”
“I guess I didn't realize you were flirting with me.”
Sevika chuckles, a tiny half moon of a smile line on her cheek when she smirks, smugly aware of the way your eyes are looking at her. “You’re funny.”
Sevika is loyal. It would be easy to say that she doesn’t get what this feeling is, that it’s meaningless, that she doesn’t understand it— but she knows. She knows what it is even if it goes unnamed, because she’s the one deciding to keep it, stubborn and tight gripped, close to her heart. It’s in her dreams, in her first thought of the morning, in the disappointment that sours her mouth when she doesn’t find you at the bar. It’s in her stomach, tugging with need, when she looks at your face and realizes that if she asks if you wanna go home with her tonight, you will say yes.
She takes the leap. Parts her lips, names herself yours. “You wanna get out of here?”
─────✧・゚: *✧・
You rarely pour your own drinks anymore. It’s a funny thing— Sevika doesn’t ask about your preference, which liquor is your favorite, if you’d like for her to do it for you. She figures it out like she does most things, making a study out of it, watching you enough. Maybe a little extra, too. The cork slides up with a pop!, her fingers around the neck of the bottle. The warmth of her still lingers on your thighs, your own fingers sitting restless over your lap now that her hair is not close enough to play with.
It’s been months since the first night she came home with you. You wouldn’t yet say that the newness is gone, or that you’re as quick of a student as she is, but there are things you know about Sevika already. Vivid truths, bright like the visions of her in the sunlight that you dream about sometimes. Reassurance is one of the first languages you learn from each other.
For Sevika, it's almost always about touch— you notice it immediately at the core of most of her silences, the way closeness makes her demeanor shift to something calmer, more true to herself. Slide closer to her on the couch and her arm will find itself around your shoulders immediately. Pat the empty spot next to you on the bed and she’ll let out a heavy sigh of relief, join you in sleep instead of torturing herself about tomorrow’s line of business. Part your lips when she's kissing you late at night with no goal other than to kiss you and she’ll let out a sound that vibrates through you and changes her mind on what was once an innocent gesture; she’ll tug your shirt off instead. Brush your hand over her shoulder when she's resting her head on your lap and she’ll guide it to her face instead, a lazy hold on your wrist while your thumb brushes her cheek. Coming to love her is the warmest science. But it’s not always exact.
You watch her pour you a drink at the bar table that sits in front of your bed— watch the dark hair that sits against the nape of her neck, messy and loose, watch the waistline of her pants sitting low on her waist, watch the bareness of her back. If there’s a reason why you decide to say it now, you don’t yet realize it. The words just spill out of you before you have a chance to stop them. “I remember you, you know."
Sevika’s hand hovers over the whiskey glass before she hums, resuming the movement and bringing it to her lips. "You didn't say."
“You didn’t ask,” you rest your back against the bed frame, watch her carefully.
The air sits still and you see her shoulders lift, muscles shifting as she shrugs, a big gulp of golden liquor sliding down her throat. Her voice comes in a mutter, low and almost shy, "Thought I might scare you off.”
The idea is so ridiculous that it's almost laughable. A startled chuckle dies in your chest and leaves room for aching sadness, your back leaving the frame as you lean forward and pray for her to turn around. "He was going to shoot me. Nobody moved a finger but you, Sev," you shake your head, try to manage your expression from saying too much, from confessing to something that’s been inside of you for years. At the tip of your tongue sits a raw desperation for this exact unraveling, for her. "How could you scare me?"
Another moment passes before Sevika turns to face you, lower back against the edge of the table, holding her drink down by her side. She won't look at your eyes— can't, maybe. You wonder if she's considering leaving, if she's already decided that she will, as soon as this is over. A part of you, small but dramatic and loudly pessimistic, is surprised that she’s entertained you this long. Even more surprised when she asks, "Is that what this is?" a turn of her head and the gray in her eyes finds you in a second, mechanical and unforgiving, the snap of a bear trap. You don't think you could look away if you tried. "Are you here because you think you owe me something?"
Your reaction is something close to a flinch, your frown deepening, feet firm on the floor instantly. "You can't seriously think that."
Sevika feels the regret come instantly. It splatters on her face, the pads of her fingers rough when they're brushed over her cheek to wipe herself clean of it like she does blood, gunpowder, fear. She watches out of the corner of her eye the way you part your pretty lips and can hear it in her head, imagine it so clearly, you asking her to leave. 
She's already reaching for her coat to make quick work of obeying your wishes when, instead of that, you ask, "You wanna know why I’m here?"
Sevika lowers her hand and the glass hits the table with a thud. Her head tilts to make the slightest nod— and that's as much of an answer as you'll get, you think.
“Look at me,” your finger sits under her chin, a touch barely there, the rise of her head more her choice than your doing. “You’re good, Sevika,” she grimaces, feels like she's swimming in gross viscous shame older than herself and barely surviving it. You press your thumb into her cheek, firm but kind, and keep her from being swept away by it. If she used to find your openness sweet, right now she finds it fucking miraculous. How can you call her good and mean it, how can someone else know so deeply that she could be, that she will be, when most days she doesn’t even know it herself? How can she look you in the eyes and deny you that truth? Her face relaxes, grimace replaced by an aching need as she listens to you. “I see it better than most, but they all catch up eventually. Whatever you put your mind to, you’re fucking good at it,” you pause, try to read her expression and find yourself unsure, but calm. How lovely to think that there's still so much to learn. “You don't owe me and I’m not trying to change you… you don't need—”
Sevika rests her hand over your cheek, a warm hum from her throat to acknowledge what you're saying, a desperate shake of her head to say but I do. “I need you,” her forehead falls against your own, in her brain a chant of please.
You look at her through your lashes, nod your head and feel warm, warm, warm. Her hand guides your face closer, a needy pull of her fingers where they press against the back of your neck, your whisper of “me too” spilled into her mouth. Sevika kisses like there's nothing in the whole fucking world she’d rather be doing, nothing that could possibly distract her. She has kissed you in nightclub bathrooms even with someone's knocks shaking the flimsy door, in alleys with her knuckles still bloody from a fight, dangerously close to opening hours with your back against the very bar where she rests her drinks every night. She's hungry, insatiable, and every time you can't wait to part your lips and let her in.
It takes godlike strength to hold on for as long as you do, but there's power in making her wait too, a satisfaction that feels drunk and just as divine as it makes its way down your spine. A few more chaste kisses take seconds or a century, and Sevika indulges them for as long as she can before she breaks, falls to her knees at your altar and breathes, “Please.”
There's nothing you like more than hearing her beg, except maybe what happens after you give in— the relief, the sigh against your mouth, the wet warmth of her tongue and the desperation in the way she pushes her body against you like she hadn't til then realized just how famished she’d been. Her hands wrap around your waist meanly, pressing indents, and you're too busy soothing your own hunger on her lips to realize that she's switched your positions.
You feel the harshness of the table against your back and pull away to look down, catch up, your daze maybe a little too obvious judging by the curl of her mouth. She's panting as much as you are, though, tongue peeking out barely to brush over her lips, tingly and wet from your kisses. “Up,” she says with a tilt of her head, more a warning than a command, her hands already down on your hips to get you sitting over the wood.
Sevika is a sight, pretty and inviting and overwhelming— you reach for her waist and pull, entranced by the way she follows, the way your legs interlock. A thin layer of sweat glimmers over her chest and you've never found so much beauty in the undercity’s humidity, never felt yourself get wet as easily as she makes it, never been so desperate to find some relief from the aching between your legs. Your thighs squeeze into Sevika’s and looking up to meet her eyes feels like a punch, like the sweetest blood, a sea of glazed-over gray barely visible against the black of her pupils. A mirror of your wanting; how the hunger grows when it meets reciprocation this delicious. You lean forward to taste it from her lips and she meets you halfway, a hand traveling up your spine and ending at your neck.
You don't know when you started grinding against her, but you know you want more. And you know Sevika’s holding back, savoring the same power you’d tried before, a smirk against your lips when she feels you speed up, hears you moan from somewhere deep in your throat. It suits her, the way she holds control. Sevika likes to wonder if she’d ever hold on longer, make you really wait. Sometimes she thinks she might, and then (like now) your voice fills her ears and clouds every thought that says anything other than please, god, fuck, let me make you feel good. “Don’t be mean,” you say this time, breathy and achingly sweet. “Please, Sevika.”
The first grind of her thigh against your pussy makes you end a kiss with your teeth biting into the meat of her lower lip, rougher than you intended. “Fuck, Sev—” you say, cut yourself off with a gasp when she does it again. Sevika figures out the angle unsurprisingly quickly, a hand on your hip and another on your ass to guide you back and forth at a rhythm that matches the movement of her own hips, enough fervency behind it that you know she needed this as much as you did. Maybe more, judging by the groans she spills on your neck every time you press up into her.
Full lips kiss at your pulse, open mouthed, her breath cool against your skin when it meets the wetness she left there. Your nails rake over her shoulder, over her scalp where your fingers are buried in between strands of dark hair— and when Sevika groans it sounds raw, a broken noise, her hips moving desperately faster. You can feel her warmth on your thigh and you've never wanted so badly to have her undressed, laid out, rubbing her pussy against you, leaving a mess on skin rather than the fabric of your pants. She's getting carried away, you know it, chasing her high and barely giving you a chance to catch up. You've never wanted anything more than to let her use you.
“You feel so fucking good,” she grunts, wrecked with need for you to pacify when she lifts her head from your neck, her eyebrows furrowed. You watch her get lost on your lips and you can imagine what they look like, how plump she left them, how the pride of that must simmer in her lower abdomen. Her thumb brushes over them once, then again, and you barely register that she's asking for permission before your mouth moves on its own accord to let her index and middle finger inside. It's filling, just what you needed; how beautifully unsurprising that she knew it more than you did, or that she needed it just the same.
You're fully caged in now, your back pressed against the wall, Sevika’s free hand on your waist still steering you back and forth on her thigh. “Too— hm, fuck,” her fingers slide out of your mouth and press wet indents into your cheek as she holds your jaw, traps you in her eyes. She’s far too gone to warn you but she doesn't have to, it's so painfully clear. Her eyes two dark pits to swallow you whole, lips parted, the grinding brutal and so fucking good— she says it until she can't form the words anymore, her head tilted back, thighs stuttering and tightening around your leg as she comes.
Your tongue tastes the skin of her bared neck and you feel yourself get closer and closer, fed by the feeling of her nipple under the pad of your thumb, by the shaking moans she spills into your ears as you keep grinding against her. Sevika must feel it too, in the same way you did, notice the change in your breath or the speed of your hips— because she pulls away and knows to soothe the needy desperation on your face with a messy kiss before she gets down on her knees.
“Shh,” her shushing comes soft and agonizingly kind, your whines barely contained as she presses kisses to the inside of your thighs. “What happened to my patient girl?” she asks, a tilt of her head and a smirk, the meanest angel.
Your palms press onto the table to lift yourself up enough to let her slide your pants and underwear off in one motion. “Spoiled me too much,” you answer, your mind foggy, drunk on the sight of her kneeling in front of you.
It takes Sevika a moment to reply, the pads of her finger pressing into your thighs. Her eyes meet yours and she wants to tell you, how could I not? You’re not trying to change her, you’d said, but you do. These days, she doesn't think about anything else like she used to— I love you prefaces everything. I love you, so I’m winning this stupid fight and making some money. I love you, so I gotta get home alive. I love you, so I think we could change this city. I love you, you should have every-fucking-thing. But Sevika's not really a woman of many words, especially not when you're looking at her like this, especially not when she's this hungry, so she shrugs her shoulders and says (like it explains everything, and maybe it does), "Look at you.”
The intensity of her makes your legs squeeze together, but you barely make it an inch before she’s pulling them apart and hooking them over her shoulders exactly how she likes.
Your face feels like it's burning, heat crawling up your neck, your grip on the table tight. “Please.”
Sevika barely manages to pry her eyes away from where you're open and glimmering, soaking her fingers after just one brush of them against your lips. Her voice comes out strained, drowned in hunger. “Please what?” 
You must sound worse, but the thought barely registers, hardly matters. “Please, Sevika, make me come.”
And she does— pretty nose bumping perfectly against your clit whenever her tongue is too busy inside you, her lips shiny and wet and relentless. Like everything else, she's fucking good at it.
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elizabethrobertajones · 5 months ago
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summer scions!! I absolutely love the new portraits for all their smug happy expressions. Except Y'shtola, who is not going to deign to give a camera a proper saucy look because that's silly. Urianger is smirking twice as hard on her behalf.
Glam review under the cut!
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I unlocked Alphinaud first of the twins and didn't know Alisaie had a little necktie yet, so I'm deducting a point from my first impression because the sheer delight that he had a silly little necktie of some sort no matter the situation delighted me so thoroughly. Since they're still engaging in matchy twin dressing to some degree, I have to assume they either like it and won't admit it after digging in so hard, or Ameliance sent them off with cute outfits and matching backpacks, and they still don't really shop for themselves.
He's got the practical watch/compass gloves which are good for a technically proficient Sage and probably the most practical gear he's ever worn except for when he was poncho Alphy, but wearing ankle-length jeans seem like the least weather-appropriate choice of the Scions if we assume their average skin coverage is a good weathervane for the temperature in Tural. I chalk it up to teenage awkwardness.
8/10 unless he and Alisaie chose their outfits themselves, in which case it's a 9/10
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I think Alisaie is the only Scion to keep a single piece of their default gear, and those are her usual gloves. She's colour-matched around it.
Because of the gloves and boots, she looks the most ready for hardcore hiking, somehow, and her matching Alphinaud with a cute button down shirt with rolled up sleeves along with that particular choice of baggier shorts (when she normally wears more form fitting shorts) do give me the closest to butch vibes it's probably likely to get for main characters. So I'm giving her an extra point I stole from Alphinaud for the lesbian vibes.
9/10 or 10/10 if she made these choices all by herself.
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Everything about this cracks me up, from his portrait above to the image of him tanking open shirted once he pulls mobs.
Believe it or not, he's getting an additional point for those shoes simply because the competition in practicality in tanking is G'raha.
I had a moment of excitement when I thought the necklace was pink because that's always a cute Ryne/Minfillia thing fanartists give him with ribbons and such, but once I got zoomed in on him it was red, so I guess he's just been shopping. Although, the turquoise shorts are her eye colour and the actual large diamond shapes are secretly Mothercrystal coded in those colours, which just cracks me up that you can pick out one of the worse days of his life (Urianger's grand Warrior of Darkness plan) in his Chill Summer Beach Vibes look.
Douchebag beach bro shell bracelet as well, which really makes me double down on him and Urianger spending way too much on tourist bait along the stalls in the Famous Turali Market. The hat and sunglasses are giving him one of the Most tourist-y looks thematically reflecting how a lot of the Scion guys were just here to hang out, narratively or literally. Maybe he's trying not to get such an intense tan again, which is the only reason he's not entirely topless.
11/10 I could not stop laughing when I got him and Urianger to 100 and Beheld The Brilliance in the same moment.
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Please note the raised sunglasses in Urianger's portrait, which are not the model his character uses.
I am delighted that I had been incorporating that island watch into my healer glams on both the logic you need to know your clock positionals but also they're largely the smarty pants jobs (WHM being vibes only aside - it gets its own glams :P). And here's Urianger and Alphinaud both using watches.
Now, I had a moment of being vaguely disappointed he had trousers not a skirt or something else swishy and androgynous, but then I did realise that I, a nonbinary weirdo who relates to Urianger since he made me nonbinary, have actually gone to a couple of garden parties dressed in some variation of this exact outfit of light trousers and a nice button up. Plus, the earrings are in both ears, so no "Google, which ear is the gay one?", these are just straight up cute femme dangly earrings with his favourite little dudes on.
More importantly, the colours he's repping are those of Lopporit Radio. He probably tunes in every night for his broadcasts :')
Mirrored sunglasses for the guy notorious for keeping thoughts and plans close to his chest and choosing deliberately to be enigmatic even when it serves zero purpose except for I guess gender affirming care. (The gender is Weird Bitch.)
I can't tell how I feel about those dad sandals. I suppose it depends if he's wearing them like a fashion model (brand new and clean with perfect pedicured feet) or if those are REALLY dad at the beach-like and, since I'm not a foot person, this for me is only a choice between "not off-putting" and "AURGH".
9/10 the proximity to Thancred hauls him up several points of misgivings I had, and the lopporit shout outs are killing me :')
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I unlocked Y'shtola last and holy fuck I am a lesbian. I don't even recognise where those boots come from, so either a really expensive glam or something I just have not stumbled on. She has toe rings I think? And painted nails? I have no idea if the garter (?) is part of the boots glam or a custom thing as result of not recognising the boots and how much of them is normal. I feel like they customised a lot on her anyway - the back of her top has purple beads that match her staff (not dyable on the real piece)
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and I think the necklace has to be part of the top instead of a separate necklace piece with the way it hangs, AND the bracelets are a glove piece with the original summer glam, but I assume they're layered with the false nails, also in the glove slot. All in all it's giving the sort of effort which is starting to creep up to what I'd expect from the modding community not the game. I mean, not THAT good but getting close. Baby steps towards what fandom can make :P
She really is god's favourite meow meow.
Anyway I can't really judge this fairly because it's really hot and I love her so I'm just going to give it 100/10 and move on. :)
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how did I get a picture where Estinien looks like he's stooping to get in the frame...
The fact he has Azure Dragoon Blue Top and then Violently Nidhogg Fuchsia shorts is the colour theory that absolutely killed me. When he lights up during his burst and starts glowing pink all over his shorts are like. Taking him over like the eye once did I think.
love a guy who can embrace his past trauma and dress to match all that has passed before and all that he intends to do now (kill something large and tasty, grill it on the beach, fall asleep with a beer in hand until the waves come in and wake him up).
I gave him that wooden bracelet in the glam he has on my desktop screen so once again I'm feeling weirdly vindicated.
Other details: no ponytail despite the warm weather because he's got enough ventilation. The fact there's cactaurs on his shirt when he's on record for eating them is amazing. We should imagine he's wearing his jobstone like that pendant (since he's one of the only guys with a confirmed jobstone despite being the Guy Without A Job notoriously that one time.)
Unlike Thancred's hat and sunglasses combo, which seems fun and boisterous somehow, he seems the most walled off of all the sunglasses wearers even though he's not the most mysterious. The visor really helps make it a sort of wall. Maybe just because his terse upfront personality and somehow despite his clothes horse habits THIS amount of whimsy seems the most out of character at first glance, but he DOES look uncomfortable to me.
Somehow I find everything about this outfit excellent for his character but also like maybe he was forced into it, everyone cornering him and telling him the Scion Beach Party was a mandatory work event and he was not allowed to beg off of it and he did put some work in expressing himself but also is going to go find a much quieter corner to lurk in for the day, when not competing with Thancred (can't grill, loves it) for the barbeque (Estinien can grill, would only do it because the threat of Thancred doing it wrong is too high).
confused 7/10 mostly because I think Krile is blackmailing him and not because I don't love everything about this.
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Here's how G'reenha Tia can still win -
Anyway here's the deducted point for tanking in flip flops (PERFECTLY acceptable BLM gear btw but he's Mr Versatile.)
(I joke but the main character of my novels is a flip-flop wearing menace who could and would tank in them)
Between the padlock and key necklace and the woven bracelet right after we all went feral over the Thavnarian bracelets for couples thing so recently (and Corvos is just across the water!) he's absolutely dripping cutie pie love interest coding yet again.
(Also yes I know the lock and key thing is very funny because we were introduced to him learning he was a fancy key to a big door.)
Gains a point back because the other green g'raha thing is I'm pretty sure people use this shirt glam because it kinda looks like it has weed on it.
Don't quote me on that, vibes only.
Anyway he came colour coordinated (with his original eye colour and hair colour not the bright Allagan dalamud red dye that goes with his normal outfit) so so precise and neat, like he's going to some sort of formal event, and even with flip flops he really does seem incredibly put together like the twins or Y'shtola, just for full outfit cohesiveness.
As someone who would hold G'raha's hand on the romantic gondola vibe, 10/10.
3 out of 10 and a huge cringe if you would not. He's got to stop Striving.
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Hey it's the star of the show!! Adorable hairstyle out, cute plot-important earring on, and wearing her exact character colours but adorable beach wear :)
I love that she looks kind of like she went to the girls for advice and got the top from Y'shtola and the shorts from Alisaie, and she probably was very serious and stressed about getting this right even though there's no rules and no one's judging her -
oops.
Anyway the ballet shoes are adorable and go with all the cute picto spins and twirls :)
I think the strict colour scheme does speak to the slight lack of fleshing out she got so far in the story (we don't really have any real character reason that picto in particular spoke to her and this glam isn't one of the many fun takes people had on how to dress to meet that brief ). I don't think DT did more than just repeat that she's serious and sweet and trying really hard to get out of her shell and be more fun and creative and also she's been practicing dodging really hard she shouts mid-Trust combat (bless her). But ALSO getting out of the shell is really hard and she only found out everything and got some closure in the final level 100 quests so there wasn't really much to do with her after that.
This is like her First Non-Plot-Critical Whimsy Moment and losing the hood or any cat ears entirely (and there are perfectly functional cat ears to wear in game) is a good step considering we know she wears it precisely because she needed a sort of advance PR campaign to make her look cute and approachable before she opened her mouth and started bringing down the vibe (serious scary children are SO funny though and i love that for her). Having the same top as Y'shtola is a good thing for trying to make her less childish and have her trying to show that now as she takes this huge step out from the background. I mean, it still has a slight sense of her costuming herself and pushing herself out of comfort zones as she always does, but it's 100% in character so I adore it.
1000/10 because Krile is great and there's so much going on here and it's so fun when a character's whole personality is a costume and then they're like aurgh wait do I even want that??
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kapsloc7 · 7 months ago
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FINALLY POSTING THIS!!1! This was a huge project for me (literally, it is 3 feet tall!) based on Will Wood's 'The Normal Album' and my personal relationship with it. I threw a ton of references and symbolism in here, it was a ton of fun to create :)
Rambling about details under the cut.
Also: If you enjoy this, I have prints (and other things?) available here!
ALRIGHT BUCKLE UP BECAUSE I HAVE LOTS TO SAY
This painting is acrylic on a 24"x36" canvas, created as part of my portfolio focusing on human experiences and mental health. I wanted to make a painting about music because it's a very important thing to me, and was ultimately inspired by the song Memento Mori, The Most Important Thing. In the end I decided to base it off The Normal Album in its entirety.
The most obvious reference is the outfit, of course. I took all my own reference photos so it isn't an exact match, but is of course in spirit Will's outfit from the album cover. The only symbolism in this is the expression of masculinity in the suit, and a slight bit of femininity in the painted nails. Nothing too deep about it, I just wanted to throw in some gender fuckery because of my trans-ness.
The keyboard itself isn't a reference (I mean it's just my keyboard) nor are the books behind it (Just there for composition) but I put some stickers on the keyboard to throw in some extra references and symbolism. First, the "Give Me That Old Time Religion," both a Self-Ish reference and inspired by the sticker on Will's keyboard. Second, the pride flag being covered by an upside down American flag. This was something more personal I threw in for fun, about my distaste for the US and the oppression of queer people here. Also, I threw in the window from the album cover (but empty)
In the background, there are silly references to specific songs, (white picket fences, barbed wire and trenches, and the 222 for 2econd 2ight 2eer) and some more personal references as well (pill bottle ties into themes of the album as well as my own mental heath issues.) The potted plant has a bunch of symbolism thrown at it, and was inspired by lines in well better the alternative and Outliars and Hyppocrates, kinda a bit about feeling restricted by pressures from yourself or others causing you to uhhh. not be okay. and the pot design is based on the keys of Will Wood's keyboard as well as kinda an Everything Is a Lot reference.
Hand stuff: Bracelets are bracelets I made, mostly just for fun to provide more visual interest. Both kandi bracelets are inspired by Will Wood of course, the visible letters reading 'Memento Mori'. The grey bracelet doesn't have the letters visible, but it reads 'not afraid to die' The rings I wore were also personal fun. The white ring on the middle finger is a bit of queer code representing Aromanticism, and an engagement ring on my ring finger. Just representing the struggles I've had with sexuality and relationships and such.
Finally the chains, wallet chain was thrown in to represent financial pressure, and the one over the piano is the actually important one, representing how shitty it feels to turn creativity into a career, and feeling forced to create. There's more thrown in here probably but I'm tired and basically wrote an essay already so UH. GOODNIGHT IF YOU READ THIS FAR I LOVE YOU WAAAAA!!!! PLEASE LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS I LOVE TALKING TO PEOPLE
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