#forever sessions volume 1

[snake-inmydaffodils]

In honor of Forever Sessions Volume 1 I made Track list/Album Art for each track.

So glad to experience ATL version’s of these songs. ❤️❤️

[arytha]

not catching up on the dash just caught up with joelle and rory's blogs 👍 im tired and eating prosciutto with a fork bc i have no easy way to wash my hands rn

[kentocidal]

lucky winner

users: piercer!bakugou x afab!fem!reader x tattoo artist!kirishima

internal warnings: descriptions of needles/tattoos/piercings as they occur, long fic, wow there's plot in this!, consensual threeway, established krbk, oral (m and f!receiving), piv, spit, size kink, light dacryphilia, spitroasting, inaccurate positioning, ask to tag

internal notes: three way won the poll so i went ham. my fault og. final word count somehow came to 5.2k ish.

new notifications: @kaedescara

you stared blankly at the notification on your phone, wide-eyed and jaw agape. you blinked slowly, rubbed a hand down your face, and then clicked your phone off and back on again. the screen lit back up to your screensaver and the single notification that sat covering it. ‘@sincitytattoojp tagged you in their story! check it out!’

you looked up from your phone to your friend, who you now realized was calling your name and snapping her fingers. “uh, hello? earth to y/n? what’s going on? did your ex message you or something?”

“i think i won something.” you mumbled, turning your phone to show your friend. she furrowed her brows together and took your phone from your hand, studying the notification before cracking a grin. 

“is this that tattoo parlor in tokyo that you keep talking about hypothetically going to?” she laughed as she punched in your passcode and opened up instagram, pressing on the icon to the parlor’s instagram story.

you were quick to snatch your phone back to watch the story yourself, raising the volume on your phone to hear it. it was a video of someone’s hand reaching into a very full fishbowl of printed instagram handles, pulling out a tiny piece of paper and unfolding it to reveal your instagram username. the caption read in big red lettering, “congrats to @[y/n] for winning the human canvas raffle. reply to this post by midnight to schedule your slot.”

you swallowed thickly and looked up at your friend. “i won the fucking raffle. i won the nine hour session.”

your friend sucked in a breath before laughing and lifting her glass to you. “godspeed, soldier.”

you looked back down at your phone and clicked back to rewatch your name be pulled from the bowl. you had entered the contest on a whim – you hadn’t expected to win. you had reposted the parlor’s picture and tagged your three closest friends to enter a bid into becoming a human canvas for a day, i.e. getting tattooed and pierced until you tapped out. the parlor owners couldn’t seem to decide on whether to call it the human canvas contest or the no mercy challenge, not that it mattered. both fit the bill to describe what you had just won.

you swiped up on the story.

you: i dont know whether to be terrified or excited.

@sincitytattoojp: both, sweetheart. sign this and get it back to us [1 attachment]

you had gone through an extensive back and forth that night, printing and signing and scanning different waivers and papers to ensure that you would be able to handle an entire day of sitting in a chair getting poked and prodded with needles and getting art permanently printed on your skin forever. you were grateful that they took so much precaution in ensuring you were well aware of the situation you were putting yourself in, and getting ample consent confirmed ahead of time. you already felt comfortable as you stepped off the train in tokyo and started towards the shop.

sin city tattoo and body art. the small tattoo shop had garnered a massive following around the globe for the gorgeous work that consistently poured from the studio. the artists had never shown their faces on their page, but it was clearly just a two man show. sometimes one of them would film the other doing their newest piece on a client they handpicked from the waiting list, and it was clear that the two were a little more than close friends. 

you trusted their work. you were a new client, obviously, but after following their page for over a year, you knew you would be okay with going through with this. you were just… inexperienced. you had a tiny tattoo of a butterfly on your ankle and your ears double pierced in the lobes, but that was it.

you rounded the corner and saw the neon sign over the glass doors to the shop, the shutters pulled down. you took a deep breath and tried the door, mildly surprised that it opened up. a tiny bell chimed over your head as you stepped inside.

the shop was small, but it was clean. absolutely pristine. for a tattoo shop called sin city, you were expecting a bit more of a grunge theme, not exactly the creamy white walls littered with black picture frames of flash art available for purchase, a tall cabinet filled with various jewelry for fresh piercings, plants in the corners surrounding two chairs that were supposedly for a waiting area. there was a tall partition behind the front desk, and the shop stretched backward, most likely leading to a tattoo chair and then a piercing table, respectively. 

you stood awkwardly by the front door, gripping your bag in front of you. you had brought a few little snacks and some water in preparation for being there all day. you shuffled your feet as you heard footsteps coming up from the back of the shop, and suddenly you were reconsidering your outfit choice. you had tried to be helpful by going with a tight spaghetti strap tank top and a high riding skirt, knowing that you would probably need to shuffle clothes around during the course of the day.

your thoughts got clogged almost immediately when a brick wall of a man rounded the partition, scratching the back of his neck and staring down at you with big red eyes that looked curious, almost playful. he had to have been at least six-five, looming over you with broad shoulders and bulky arms that were covered in tattoos that went all the way down to his knuckles. his red hair was tied half-up half-down, the black roots at his forehead showing through.

you gaped at him like a fish out of water, face starting to feel warm as he glanced you up and down, and then smiled, revealing a wide set of sharp sharklike teeth. “aye, kats! i think she’s here!” he called over his shoulder before stepping behind the front desk. “you’re our pretty contest winner, right?”

“uh-”

“my name’s eijirou kirishima. i’m the main tattoo guy here.” he grinned at you, boyish and peppy, and it stifled your nerves somewhat as you returned the smile, but you were flustered beyond belief. you had seen the videos of him tattooing, you knew at least that his hands were big, but not the rest of him.

“ah, yeah, hi. i’m y/n. it’s nice to see your fsce for once.” you giggled nervously, and he laughed and nodded.

“yeah, we’re not all about showing who we are online. the page got too big, tokyo’s a big place, we don’t want the extra attention, yknow?” he smiled warmly at you as he bent down and shuffled through some paperwork under the desk, pulling it out and gesturing for you to come closer. “i know we already got a lot of your stuff online, but this is the last waiver. pretty much a final agreement that we get to do whatever we want to your body until you either tap out, or the clock hits six, whichever comes first.” 

you made a little squeaking noise at his phrasing, glancing at his face as he just continued to smile. he fumbled around for a pen and held it out to you, and you reached to take it, but he snatched it back and leaned across the desk. “just so you know, you can say stop at any time. we’re not forcing you to be here. if you say no to an idea, we won’t do it. stuff like that. okay?”

you blinked at him. he seemed so genuine, really making sure he was thorough in his explanations of the paperwork and of your position in this. it helped you take a deep breath and nod. “i know. i’m all good.”

“awesome. you seem like a real trooper.” he chuckled in a deep, rumbly voice, and finally held the pen back out to you. 

you took it, your soft fingers brushing over his rough skin and making you feel like your hand was alight in flames. you signed your name at the bottom of the form, dated it, and slid it back across the desk to kirishima. he just grinned at you and shoved the paper into the desk again.

“bakugou! come on, man! she’s all good!” kirishima leaned his head around the partition, and you jumped slightly when the familiar voice of kirishima’s partner sounded from the back of the shop.

“i fucking heard you the first time, i’m not fucking deaf!”

“well, just hurry up!” kirishima laughed and turned back to you. “sorry, he’s a real stickler for making sure his spot is all clean. i’m clean, but he’s a neat freak.”

“who’re you calling a neat freak, red?” a slightly shorter man stepped out from down the hallway, and again you felt your breath catch in your throat.

he was still tall, but far more intimidating in his black wife beater and jeans. he took off his mask that had been covering the lower half of his face, revealing a nose piercing and snake bites around plush lips. his fluffy blonde hair was standing up in all the right places, piercing red eyes looking your form up and down as he cracked his knuckles. his arms were littered patchwork-style, much different than kirishima’s full sleeves, and he clearly liked to hit the gym seven days a week.

you gulped and shifted your weight as bakugou’s eyes drifted over you. “name’s katsuki bakugou. you’ve already met red. didya sign the form?”

“uh, yes. all of the forms.”

“great.” his eyes locked on yours. clearly, this guy was all about professionalism and business, at least while he was on the clock. then he turned his head to kirishima. “so, where did you want to start her?”

you found yourself laid down on your chest, head turned to the side to stare at bakugou’s back as he organized something off to the side. music was playing, but you could hardly hear it over the buzzing of the tattoo gun and the weight of kirishima’s hand on your back.

you chewed on your lip as you felt the needle trace over the skin of your lower back, occasionally lifting to get more ink, only to return and start the ministrations over again. it wasn’t an easy spot to get ink done; tramp stamps were adorable and sexy, but the skin on that part of a person’s back is notoriously thin. despite this, however, you always found the pain to be… enjoyable. 

you felt kirishima’s free hand slide over to the middle of your back, splaying out, applying some pressure to get a better angle as he leaned over you. if he wasn’t wearing a mask, you would be able to feel his warm breaths fanning out against your sensitive skin. your eyes fluttered and you did your best not to move as your neurons fired over the sheer size of his hand against your back. splayed out like that, his fingertips were on one side and the heel of his hand almost felt like it was on the other. perhaps your perception was being warped on account of the buzzing needle poking your back, but you couldn’t be entirely sure.

kirishima added more pressure even as the needle lifted away from your skin, pushing you down into the bed, making you squeak softly. bakugou’s head turned briefly to you, glinting in the white overhead lighting almost devilishly, before turning away again.

“so,” kirishima’s low voice made you flinch slightly, having been entranced by the weight of him looming over your form, “i don’t really see any ink on you. is this your first time?” you heard him chuckle into his mask as he waited for you to relax again, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin to calm you down, before pressing the needle down again. “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, hun.”

you felt like some kind of high schooler talking about her virginity. “it’s- it’s fine. no, it’s not my first, but it’s my first big one. i’ve got a little one on my ankle.”

“your ankle?” he repeated, still pressing the needle to your skin and definitely coloring a shape in. “who did that for you? wasn’t us.”

“right, yeah.” you giggled slightly, really trying not to move as you wiggled the foot that held the little tattoo. “just an old friend who was an apprentice somewhere else.”

“ankle’s a rough place for a first tattoo,” grumbled bakugou, finally turning towards you and sitting down in a chair a little ways away, manspreading in your peripheral. “how’d you sit for that?”

“it hurt, but i liked it.” you mumbled back honestly, glancing back when you felt kirishima put the tattoo gun down and reach with a gloved hand towards your ankle, bending your leg at the knee to study the work.

“hm. it’s real cute on you, but i would’ve done it a little different.” his thumb brushed over the tattoo, over the thin skin of your ankle, sending a spike of heat through your body. “i could touch it up later.” he guided your leg back down and brushed his hand over the back of your thigh briefly before picking his tattoo gun back up and reapplying that heavy pressure to your back again.

“yeah, okay…” you murmured breathily, feeling small underneath kirishima’s weight and the power of bakugou’s gaze where he was staring at you, at kirishima, at how kirishima’s hands left indents in your skin as he worked.

your mouth felt like it was full of cotton, your head feeling like all the blood had drained from it and gone south. you shouldn’t be thinking like this, feeling like this, not while effectively getting stabbed thousands of times per minute.

bakugou hummed as he stood up again to get within your line of sight. “you said you liked the pain, huh? you one of those weird people that gets a high off of getting ink done?”

you felt your face burst with heat, unable to move as you opened your mouth and stammered. kirishima chuckled behind his mask.

“don’t tease, kats.”

“‘m not teasin’. i was just sayin’ that i agree with her.” bakugou smirked at you before stepping around the wall to go get a water from the fridge.

kirishima’s free hand slid from your middle back to just above your ass, his thumb rubbing into the fabric of your tight skirt as he worked.

“you’re sitting really well for this, doll. ‘m proud. probably one of my favorite things to do is back tattoos. especially these.”

you hummed softly in the back of your throat, probably mumbling a thank you that just made him laugh again.

you didn’t say anything when his free hand squeezed your ass as he leaned back to get more ink in the gun.

kirishima had spread the second skin across your pretty new tramp stamp with precision, making sure it wouldn’t wrinkle or peel away until your tattoo was healed. you were given a snack of chips and a bottle of water to recuperate while bakugou prepped his area, pulling on a mask and snapping black latex gloves over his hands. “so, how ya feelin’?”

“good,” you took a breath as you capped your water, sitting quietly on the tattoo bench and waiting to move to the piercing table. “ready to move on, i guess.”

“hope you don’t mind, but i took some photos when red was doing you.” he glanced over his shoulder, and you smiled and waved it off.

“i don’t mind at all. my friend didn’t believe me when i said i was actually gonna come.”

“that so?” bakugou cocked a brow, his mouth hidden behind the black mask. “anyway, what’re you thinking for this next bit? industrial? nose?”

“ah.” you shifted on the bench, glancing away from him as kirishima rounded the corner. “i was, uh. i was thinking i could get my… i could get my nipples pierced first? get the worst ones out of the way?”

kirishima blinked once and immediately shot a look to bakugou, who made eye contact. it was like telepathy; there was a silent exchange between them before bakugou nodded and waved for you to step over. “sure, whatever. it’s definitely not the worst pain, though.”

“really?” you stood on jelly legs and walked over to the piercing bench, sitting down in front of bakugou, who pulled a chair over to sit.

“mhm. worst i would say for a girl is the clitoral hood.”

you flushed and shook your head. “no thanks. i think i’ll stick to this for now.”

“okay.” bakugou sat back in his chair, staring at you. you stared back, tilting your head. bakugou furrowed his brows and clicked his tongue, making an ‘up’ motion with two fingers. only then did it click that you needed to take your shirt off.

you looked around as you started to tug your tank top up, looking over at kirishima, who was leaning against the wall with fascination. “ah, sorry! if you really want, i can leave.”

“no! no, it’s fine.” you shook your head, and finally got the courage to lift your tank top up and over your head. in preparation for this, you had simply forgone your bra in the morning.

you were left in just your skirt and panties, essentially. kirishima hummed low in his throat, earning him a glare from bakugou. you felt like you were on fire when bakugou reached a hand out to your shoulder. “lay back. slow.”

you shuddered under his grasp and laid back on the table, bringing your feet up and bending your knees to be a little more comfortable. your nipples pebbled and hardened from the cold air of the parlor.

bakugou studied your tits with an intense gaze, clearly focused on his job in a way that kirishima was not. where kirishima was flirty, groping and grabbing, bakugou was cold and practiced.

“so this is gonna go something like this. one of these is gonna hurt more than the other. when i tell you, you gotta breathe in, and then breathe out all at once. it’ll make the pain a little easier to handle.”

“okay.”

“i’ll be quick, but we gotta do one at a time.” he grabbed a skin safe marker and finally his hands reached for one of your tits, rubbing his thumb into the skin as he marked where the needle would enter and exit. you felt like you were shaking, being grabbed and examined in such a professional manner.

“you can’t have any fuckin’ saliva or jizz or whatever touch these till they’re fully healed, you got that?”

you squeaked, almost jumping in surprise at his words, before laughing and shaking your head. “no worries there.”

“you sure?” bakugou tilted his head, eyebrow raised, and kirishima laughed as he walked over towards the bench.

you didn’t get a chance to answer bakugou, because kirishima was by your head, offering his massive hand to you. “you can squeeze my hand so you don’t pass out.”

you looked up at him through your lashes, squirming on the bench as bakugou squeezed your tit. you didn’t answer, just reaching your hand up to hold onto kirishima’s. his hand was large, warm, and so rough. you wanted to feel his-

“alright sugar. take a deep breath in for me.”

you sucked in a breath through your teeth, and then suddenly a white hot pain shot through your body, something never experienced before. your vision whited out and you may or may not have cried out and dug your nails into kiri’s hand, gripping it tightly.

your head swam as you were encouraged to breathe, and then to breathe in again as the wide bar was slipped through the new piercing. you yelped and jerked on the table, making bakugou put his gloved hand flat between your tits to try and ground you. “relax, brat. stay fucking still. gotta get this stupid ball on.”

“aw, she’s cryin’.” kiri chuckled and rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. your cheeks did feel wet as the pain subsided slowly. you whimpered as bakugou leaned away from you and reached to grab another needle package and the second bar.

“one more, drama queen. you can do it. just one more.”

“already?” you whined, shaking your head at him as he scooted his chair closer to get a better angle on your other nipple.

you did not get a chance to beg for mercy. “breathe in deep, good fuckin’ girl.”

you screamed this time. bakugou had been right, one hurt more than the other. your head felt so light all of a sudden, your vision blurring as you gripped kirishima’s hand like a vice and shook. your breath punched out of you when the bar was pushed through and the little ball at the end was screwed on.

you stared up at the ceiling and tried to get your bearings as kirishima let go of your hand to pet your hair and keep it away from your tears. “you did it, pretty girl. you got it. just breathe. did such a great job, yeah?”

you gathered your thoughts together as you listened to bakugou get up and take his gloves and his mask off, tossing them away, ever the professional. he walked back over to where you were laying and held up a mirror over you to show you your new jewelry. the sight made the pain worth it; your nipples, perky and red and hard, glittering with bars pushed through.

“what do ya think?” bakugou cocked his head at you, and you let out a deep breath.

“they look… really nice.”

“really sexy, more like.” kirishima chuckled over you as he openly ogled your chest.

you made a noise of surprise, which was immediately followed by your voice getting caught in your throat when bakugou’s free hand moved to start rubbing up and down your thigh. “you okay?”

“y-yeah.”

“you need a break?”

“i think so.”

bakugou nodded and looked to kirishima, who broke into a grin and bent over you just a little, his voice dropping an octave. “let’s take a nice long break, then, huh doll? you think you might wanna relax a bit with us? take your mind off the pain?”

“what?” you shifted to sit up on your elbows, wincing from the pain in your chest, looking between them.

kirishima laughed, “come on, doll. i know you didn’t come in here wearing just that tiny skirt for nothin’.”

“you can say no.” bakugou’s hand moved off your thigh, clearly the more level headed of the two. “we’ll take a break and come back in a half hour to keep going-“

“wait.” you flushed and put up a hand to make him shut up, glancing between them. “you’re not- together?”

“well, yeah, fucking obviously we are,” bakugou rolled his eyes at you while kiri chuckled, “but if we see a hot chick, we’re not gonna say no.”

“true.” kiri was practically purring.

they were standing over you, broad shoulders and tattooed hands and muscle, red eyes honed in on your shirtless form, and for some reason you allowed your inhibitions to fall away.

you took a deep breath and pouted. “just don’t make me get an infection on my new piercings.”

“never.” bakugou cracked his first real grin, foxlike and dirty, already moving back down towards your legs to start pushing your knees apart. you sat up a bit more, onto your hands, sucking in a breath when the bench dipped under bakugou’s added weight as he pushed your knees far apart and revealed your plain cotton panties with an obvious wet spot in the crotch, your pussy throbbing with the realization.

bakugou hummed as he slid rough fingertips down the insides of your thighs. “look at that shit, red. she’s already soaked. got this pretty pussy all needy even after pokin’ her.”

“figured as much. she was all spaced out during her tat.” kiri’s meaty hand slipped around the column of your throat, practically engulfing it in one palm as he turned your head to make you look up at him.

you gasped, and kirishima’s mouth came crashing down onto yours; he had to practically crouch to get even close to you where you were sitting. your hands flew up to his hair, body twisting slightly as bakugou started to work his fingers along your hips to further push your skirt up around them.

you felt yourself start to whimper as bakugou pushed your panties to the side and slipped two fingers through your wet folds. you shook and moaned as his fingers skillfully rubbed slow circles into your clit, making your hips jerk.

kiri laughed against your lips and squeezed his hand slightly around the column of your throat, pulling away from your mouth to look at your dazed expression. “lay back, doll.”

he guided you back to lay on the bench again, letting go of your throat only for a moment to start unbuckling his belt. “kats, i’m takin’ her mouth first, mkay?”

“hm?” bakugou glanced up from where he was licking his lips, about to press his nose to your pussy. “oh, yeah sure whatever. i’m getting a taste first.”

“someone’s got an oral fixation.”

“shut the fuck up, you red-haired loser.”

you felt yourself start to giggle at their interactions, but suddenly there were lips wrapped tightly around your cliff and a fat cock hanging over your face, drooling with pre.

you swallowed as your mouth practically started to water. your head was spinning as bakugou worked his tongue against your clit, a finger starting to push its way into your right, wet heat. you moaned and felt your eyes flutter, fingers curling into the sides of the piercing bench. “ah, i-i don’t know if i can fit-“

“shh. all you gotta do is swallow. can you try just the tip?” kiri cocked his head at you, suddenly all puppy eyes as he stroked his cock to his boyfriend eating you out.

you whimpered and nodded. how could you say no? you ground your hips against bakugou’s face as your lips parted, and kirishima pushed just the fat head of his cock past them with a low groan.

you felt full. bakugou started to push a second finger into your weeping hole, drool and your juices dripping down his chin and dotting the bench as he ate you out and found the spongy spot within you that made your back arch off the bench, knees attempting and failing to snap shut around his head. bakugou growled against your pussy, unhappy with you disturbing his meal.

you couldn’t respond what with kirishima shallowly thrusting into your mouth, working inch after inch into you. you felt his heady tip hit the back of your throat as your head hung down over the edge of the bench, and you coughed and sputtered.

“shh, careful, careful. breathe.” his hand returned to your throat, feeling the way he slipped further and further in. his balls hung down in your face as he started to effectively fuck your throat, groaning when you whined around him.

you did your best to suck his cock, slobbering and drooling down your cheeks as your eyes rolled back when bakugou removed his mouth and rubbed circles into your clit with his thumb. “she tastes fuckin’ good.”

“yeah? y’think so?”

“yeah,” bakugou breathed out, almost like an offering, and as he pulled his fingers out of your wet pussy, he shoved them directly into kirishima’s mouth.

kiri groaned loudly and sucked on bakugou’s fingers with the eagerness of a dog, gripping your throat with one hand and bakugou’s wrist in the other. he made sure bakugou’s fingers were clean before letting go and rolling his hips against your face. “shit.”

“mhm.” bakugou was panting as he hurriedly fussed with his jeans, shoving them down enough to get his cock free. it was difficult, positioning himself on the bench, but he made it work as he slapped his tip against your clit.

you cried out and gagged again on kirishima’s fat cock, gurgling pathetically while they both laughed at you.

“poor babydoll,” bakugou hissed, pressing his tip to your entrance, “she can hardly breathe, eiji.”

“she’s doin’ a good fucking job. i can feel how deep i am in her throat.”

“i can fuckin’ see that.” bakugou snapped right back before taking a deep breath and sinking so slowly into your pussy.

your walls fluttered around his cock as he sheathed himself inside you, one hand gripping your hip dangerously tight and the other reaching to grab for kirishima’s free hand. “fuck, red, she feels so fucking tight.”

“if- if you think her pussy’s tight, wait till you feel her throat.” kiri panted lowly as he grabbed his boyfriend’s hand over you.

you felt like an object, a plaything, lightheaded and so, so full, almost screaming when they both started to fuck into you at once; they were slightly off pace, both focused on their own pleasure, chasing their highs and smothering you all the while.

kirishima’s hand slid from your throat to the middle of your chest, a compressing weight that left you truly breathless as his balls practically smacked into you. you did your best to try and suck his cock, really, you did, but it was so difficult when bakugou was bullying your pussy and making you shake and cry out.

kirishima was the first to falter, his hips starting to jerk erratically as your vision blurred from tears of pleasure. “oh fuck yeah, fuck, ‘m gonna cum-“

“already? pathetic.” bakugou snapped, only egging kirishima on and making him whine as he tossed his head back and came deep in your throat, making you gag and choke.

he didn’t pull out until the thick, heady ropes of his cum were seated on your tongue, taking a step back to let his fat cock slap wetly against his thigh. it was clear, then, that his refractory period was short; he was already at half mast again as he watched bakugou fuck you into the bench, hiking one of your legs up around his waist to get deeper.

you cried out loudly, voice ragged and ruined as bakugou’s thumb returned to your clit.

“come on pretty girl, lemme feel you cum around my fuckin’ cock first. come on. i know you’re close. i can feel ya squeezin’ me in. shit, baby, fucking cum for me.”

your back arched off the table and your eyes rolled back as you came hard around his cock, your vision going white as you jerked and spasmed on the table. bakugou moaned and dropped his head forward, holding on until the last second when he could pull out and cum all over your twitching cunt, jerking himself off all the way. thick ropes of cum splattered against your skin and made you shiver, all parts of you sensitive.

kirishima, cock still out and hard again, stepped over to swipe his fingers through your pussy and get a taste of yours and bakugou’s cum, groaning deep in his throat as he pressed an almost chaste kiss to bakugou’s cheek. “you wanna fuck her throat next?”

“fuck yes i do.”

[cherryredstars]

Hi Cherry!

Could you do a part 2 to fear (f)or lust? There something about mean dom miguel that makes me ✨️tingle✨️

Maybe sprinkle some fluff at the end?

You are an amazing writer ❤️ Love everything you do!

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Mean!Miguel, Penetrative Sex, Bruising, Face Slapping, Creampie, Cum-Stained Panties (LMAO)

Summary: He still has one last thing to prove.

A/N: Hihi, love!! Thank you!!

Not Edited

Part 1

It's been a week.

Far too long for Miguel's taste, if it wasn't evident from how much harsher he's been on the field lately. His mood is effectively soured from your disappearance lately. It's partly to do with you avoiding him and the fact you're at some nerdy competition for the school. You had told him in text the day before you left, and his mood has been getting worse ever since. His life has become surprisingly dull without you around to scare and stuff his fingers into. He hates to say it, but he missed his little Bambi.

But his suffering finally comes to an end when he's walking the halls and the familiar tweeting of your voice passes him. He looks up from his phone, turning his head the same time you turn yours, his threatening eyes meeting your shiny ones. He gives you a smirk before you're pushed away by the crowd of students, continuing his path forward as he presses a few buttons on his phone. He wished you were in front of him so you can squeak at the dark look on his face when you pick up the phone.

"Can't hide from me forever, Bambi."

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

The scene looks familiar as you stand outside his door, the only difference this time is he's not wearing a shirt or sweats. He leans comfortably against the frame of his door, acting as if he isn't just in a pair of black boxer briefs. His hair is a bit limp over his forehead, beads of water still clinging to his tanned skin. He must have just gotten out of the shower, remembering vaguely that he had practice today so you knew to avoid taking any outside paths that pass by the field. You try your best to not stare at his muscular chest, but you find it hard to meet his eyes too. They always have that dark, hungry look in them. You opt to stare at his ear, your cheeks flaming.

Miguel on the other hand, doesn't care if you watch him take you in. His brow is quirked up, looking at the slight changes you think he wouldn't have noticed. You're wearing a bit more makeup than you usually do, your lips glossier and more colored than they usually are. The top you're wearing is tighter than what you're more comfortable wearing, different from the slightly baggy shirts you like to wear for tutoring sessions. He hopes for your sake you wore it specifically for him and you didn't come from something as silly as a date.

He moves slightly out of the doorway, leaving just enough room for you to squeeze through. You eye the empty space, something bubbling in your stomach as you slowly walk forward and squeeze yourself through. Your entire side brushes against Miguel's front, and his skin is burning hot against yours. You avoid looking at him at all costs, praying in your head to keep yourself together. You're so lost in throught that you yelp when Miguel suddenly grabs your arm, pulling you back into him.

You finally look him directly in the face, your eyes wide as he smirks down at you. Your eyes squeeze shut when he leans down, warning bells sounding at top volume in your head. You really regret closing your eyes because you're unprepared when you're suddenly lifted off the ground, a large and startled gasp leaving your lips as your eyes are snapped open. Your stare meets the ground, and Miguel's muscular shoulder digs into your stomach. His arm is wrapped around the back of your knees, and it's the only precaution he's taking to make sure you don't fall. You almost feel like crying when he purposely jolts you on his shoulder, loosening his grip slightly so you slide forward a bit. He laughs darkly as you claw at his back, having nothing to hold onto.

You can feel every step he takes as he takes you away from the front door, walking down a hall until you both enter a room. It smells so heavily of Miguel, and the air is slightly thick from the shower's steam that flows into the room. It makes your head dizzy, and it doesn't help when Miguel throws you off his shoulder and onto his bed. You bounce from the force as you land on the bed, landing partially on the towel he used to dry his hair before answering the door.

He looks so menacing standing over you, his body blocking the light from the hallway from entering his dark room. It makes him glow, like some dark angel that is determined to take you with him. His movements are slow and predatory as he walks to you, the faint light doing just enough to show how his muscles shift. He forces his large frame between your legs, his rough hands grabbing your calves and spreading them wider to accommodate him. The stretch slightly hurts, and you wince slightly when he forces his body forward so he can be face to face with you. Your legs rest on either side of his waist as he rests his hands on either side of your head, one of his hands rubbing at your cheek.

"You're so silly," He chuckles, he red eyes appearing to be glowing down at you. "Want to hide f'me, but then y'come here all dolled up."

You open your mouth to protest, but Miguel sticks his thumb through your parted lips, pressing down on your tongue. You gag around the finger in surprise, eyes widening as a distressed sound leaves your mouth. Miguel's thumb presses harder on your tongue, and he quirks his head to the side.

"No need to lie. I know it was all for me." He smiles. His other hand snakes down your body, stopping until the heel of his palm presses against your cunt through your pants.

You squirm in his hold, trying to pull away from him. It only makes dull pleasure shoot up your body, and you buck your hips harder with a whine. Miguel shakes his head at your foolishness, pulling his soaked thumb out of your mouth and wiping the saliva across your trembling bottom lip. He gives your face two soft pats, causing your pulse to jump as you remember the last time he slapped your face. He seems to know what you're thinking about as he coos down at you, reassuring you that he isn't going to slap you. Not unless you give him a reason too.

The promise- or is it a threat?- causes your body to flame, and you try to look away from his face. He scowls, his hand squeezing your cheeks together, puckering your lips as he forces you to face him. His brows are furrowed in distaste, and his other hand begins to undo your pants. He leans down, your noses almost bumping as he glares down at you.

"Who told you to look away? It sure as hell wasn't me."

You try to mumble an apology through your puckered lips, but barely any sound comes out besides incoherent hums. Miguel roughly throws your head to the side as he lets go, moving his hand down to get rid of your pants. He does it without your assistance, pressing your hips up himself to slide them off your legs and throwing them to the side. He hums as he spots the dark patch in your underwear, his fingers pressing on it and letting it sink into your hole. Your hips jolt, the uncomfortable wetness making you squirm. Miguel chuckles, moving the panties to the side, to see the way your entrance pulsates in a need to be filled.

He hums darkly at the pleasant sight, his fingers circling your hole. The stimulation distracts you for only a moment before Miguel harshly yanks your panties to the side, gasping in pain as you feel the fabric rub and snap around the crease of your thigh. The useless fabric is tossed to the side, and Miguel starts fishing his leaking cock out of his boxers. Your eyes widen at how large he is, and you try to push yourself away from him. Miguel tuts in annoyance, grabbing your thigh and roughly pulling you back into place. You gasp when his heavy dick slaps against your cunt, his angry tip pushing against your puffy clit. You freeze under him, finally learning that squirming gets you nowhere.

Miguel finally seems pleased for once, liking the way you've wordlessly submitted to him as you try to relax your body. He slowly moves his hips back and forth, sliding his cock through your glossy folds. You whimper slightly at the feeling, your body caving in on itself as your cheeks flame. Miguel pays you no mind, his eyes trained on where he slides through you as he lets out a low groan in approval. The underside of his cock is getting sticky from your arousal, and his tip catches against your entrance every now and then.

The teasing makes you ache for more. You open your mouth, only for a loud scream to escape as you're suddenly full. The stretch is quick and painful as Miguel unexpectedly thrusts inside of you, filling you to the brim in one move. You can feel him pressed against your cervix, and you let out choked breaths as your cunt squeezes around him. Miguel moans lowly at the feeling, gritting his teeth as he tries to pull out. Your cunt makes it almost impossible with how desperately your walls cling to him, but with some effort he begins to thrust into you.

You make pathetic little noises every time he bottoms out inside of you, his thrusts rough and fast as the sound of skin hitting skin echoes in his room. You already know the back of your thighs will be red and aching by the time he's done. You squirm on his dick, your shaky hands pressing on his shoulders in a weak attempt to push him off of you. He finds it to be a stupid move on your part as he gathers your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head as he ruts into you. Your hands clench in his hold, your mouth dropping open in a silent moan.

"Y'know, I was thinking about how easy it would be to fold you. Wanna test it out?"

Miguel's eyes are concentrated as he stares at where his cock penetrates you, watching the slight shine that coats his length and tuning his ears in on the squelching of your pussy. He groans as you clench around him, his hands coming to your thighs as he moves your legs to rest over his shoulders. You whine at the movement, his cock seeming to hit deeper inside of you. If you thought your thighs ached before, they burn now as the tops of your thighs press against your chest. Miguel ruts rougher into you, his teeth gritted as your cunt pulsates around him. You can feel that tight ball in your stomach, and you squeal when Miguel starts toying with your clit.

Your body trembles under him, the heels of your feet beating down on his muscular back as the onslaught of pleasure makes you're mind dumb. He's sure he'll get bruises from how hard your heels are hitting his back, but it doesn't deter him from fucking into you. Your nails dig crescents into your palms as you explode, your body twisting in an attempt to escape Miguel's consistent thrusts as you gush around his cock. Miguel groans as your cunt milks him, sweat beading on his forehead as he tries to find his release as you convulse.

He gives your cunt a few more brutal thrusts before his hips slow, slowly fucking his cum into your abused pussy. You mewl up at him as his hand releases your wrists, his hips finally stopping. Your chest rises and falls with quick breaths as you calm down, your body already feeling sore as Miguel moves your legs off his shoulders. His chest isn't moving as rapidly as yours is from his years spent on the field, his heart used to the hard physical demands Miguel puts his body through. But he does let out a slightly shaky sigh as his large hands softly knead your thighs. It makes the ache fade slightly, and he reaches besides you to grab the towel he used before. You jolt slightly when he wipes down your sticky cunt, hesitating a bit as he watches the glob of cum leak from your hole.

When your breaths start to regulate, you lift yourself slightly up. Your eyes catch the outline of your ruined panties on the floor, and your brows furrow as you wonder how you'll get home without any underwear. Miguel follows your line of sight, eyebrow raised as he takes in the tattered fabric. He crawls off you, walking to one of his dressers and rummaging through it. You expect him to pull out a pair of boxers, but what he pulls out is much too small for him to fit. Miguel throws them at you, and you pick them up hesitantly. Miguel can't help but chuckle as you gasp, staring wide-eyed at the stiffened pair of panties at the end of your fingers.

You feel like crying thinking about the perverted things he must have done to your poor panties.

Part 3

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

*pulls the 45 cents I have to my name out of my pocket and drops them on your table*

I can't believe my name will be forever attached to this but one (1) Kenjaku solo session with Heianera!YN portrait, please

❝ life and death will always lead to love and regret (but you have the answers, and I have the key) ❞

Kenjaku x Heain Era!ftm!reader [one-sided] | Heian Era!ftm!reader x Sukuna Ryomen | r! is a curse-user & sukuna ryomen's concubine, NSFW | sub. bottom. reader (AFAB) | NOT PROOFREAD | wc: 4.1K

warnings: creepy/stalker behaviour, Kenjaku is a 'passive'-yandere (in the sense that Sukuna would and will kill him if he tried anything), manipulative behaviour, gore (detailed), Kenjaku jerking off in front of a portrait of r!, very unrequited

authors note: don't be ashamed, Gabriel. I got way too excited writing this and I think that speaks volumes on how I need to get checked, LMAO. On another note - yes, my YN's will always have a harem of men in the JJK-verse because that's what YN (and you, my dear reader) deserve!

I wrote this partially on my phone so bear with me guys...

*song on repeat: Bernadette by IAMX & Rule #34 by Fish in a Birdcage. * YN is described as having long hair because of the heian beauty standard (hair colour and texture not mentioned).

People often compared the years they lived as sand. The hourglass holding it is comparable to the human body. He often thought that metaphor was weak. People — humans — were not hourglasses and their years were not sand. No, no. That’s far too neat for humans.

Humans are messy. They are loud, and chaotic, they defy nature's rules and destroy her for the sake of progress. They had no balance, their compass broke when the synapses in their brains sparked conscious thought.

In that chaos, humans made curses. Or, well, you could argue it who came first but without humans and their silly consciousness — cursed spirits wouldn’t thrive.

People are flesh left under the sun. With their blood drying out, flies and maggots eagerly feast on what they can while the meat greys and rots. That’s a much more appropriate metaphor for a human life. If anything, the hourglass comparison should be used for himself. Constantly turning it over to keep going; uncaring of what kept the sands in confinement so long as it could continue its path.

Down, almost empty, flip, repeat.

Kenjaku had perfected his cursed techniques. He had earned this, he had earned his right to let his curiosities run rampant. He had earned the right to be in the presence of Sukuna Ryomen and you.

“Yuuji, you still owe me for eating my yoghurt from the fridge. It was expensive and it took so long for me to find it!” Nobara huffed. “You might as well just buy some for yourself. I’m labelling my food now.”

Megumi glanced over his shoulder at the lack of reply from the pink-haired boy. Nobara stopping next to him with her brows furrowed, sighing as she looks around for him.

“...I was just talking to myself? Seriously?” she grumbled. Megumi adjusts his grip on the bags. The grocery trips were a good team-building exercise according to Yuuji, a way to get to know each other better. Megumi and Nobara agreed after a particularly harsh mission that aimed directly at their novice team fighting experience.

So far, the results that were yielded from it were found that Nobara had an aversion to pineapples, Megumi had expensive tastes, and Yuuji was very good at budgeting money.

“No, he was right beside you a few minutes ago,” Megumi reached for his phone. Nobara placed her hands on her hips, tilting her head as she continued to scan the crowd.

A gaggle of businessmen came out from the underground train station and between the crowd of slicked-back hair, desperate combovers, and sweaty bald heads, she spotted him.

Tugging on Megumi’s sleeve, she pointed to him. Yuuji was standing and staring up at some sort of vertical banner. As they both approached, they shared a glance.

“Oi, Itadori,” Nobara placed a hand on his shoulder. Smacked it really. He didn’t budge. There was a dullness to his eyes that unnerved her enough to remove her hand. Megumi tightened his grip on his phone as he called out to him again. She took a look at the banner and her brows furrowed.

It was promoting an opening of someone’s private gallery. Some rich kid’s great-great-grandfather’s collection. The painting they used was of a true beauty. A man with long hair, dressed in the finest robes with a serene barely-there smile. It looked to be more European in nature, the art reminding her of the portraits of giant frilly dresses and puffy shoulder sleeves despite the obviously Japanese clothing, accessory, and manner in which the subject was regaled in the painting.

The banner must have costed a pretty penny considering how much detail they could see. Megumi could practically feel the raised textures the artist had used to mimic the pattern of the traditional robe the man wore. The flow of his hair, the texture and pattern it had; and his lashes were surely not that long in reality.

Megumi tore his gaze to Yuuji.

It was like he was in a trance. His mouth was slightly ajar, his brows furrowed and his hands shaking as his knuckles turned white.

“Itadori?”

Yuuji had long forgotten this. This ache in his chest that he sometimes woke up with. When he reaches for the empty space next to him and finds no one. Those moments in the basement when he watches a historical movie and his chest tightens as the nobles courted one another.

“Do you know the painter or something?” Nobara asks.

No, he wants to say. Not the painter. If he knew who it was that did this portrait, he’d tear their heads off their body. But the man? He knew him.

That hellish grin, that perfect face and most importantly those nightmarish eyes.

You’ve seen dolls, right? Those porcelain ones specifically. The craftsmen who make them, the expensive ones with real human hair. To be left on shelves instead of being played with. They would draw these white dots on the eyes, varnish them even, so their eyes would reflect back. A mimicry of humans, that’s what dolls are. But even then, their eyes still twinkled. Not this man. No. It was devoid of light. Pools of (eye colour) and nothing more. These eyes would swallow up any trace of light and diminish the stars from the sky with just a glance.

Yuuji knew him. His soul knew him. His hand clutches over his heart and his friends watch this with trepidation.

It’s been 2,000 years. Sukuna was no longer human and therefore his memory was not as fickle. He still remembers those moments before dawn; the sight of your bare torso breathing softly as you rested next to him. The sun filtering through the windows and making you appear even more ethereal and deadly. How your brows would pinch seconds before you woke. Those soulless eyes that shot through his very soul.

Sukuna could recognize you even if he was blind. He’d be able to hear you just by feeling your chest rumble. If he had to eat one thing for the rest of his life, your body and flesh would sustain him.

In his Malovent Shrine, whilst he sat on his throne, he’d summon his flames in his palm. There he’d watch as your figure danced across his hand. You’d twirl between his digits, a smile across your face as he watches the imitation of you.

It used to be enough. Lately, the action brings him more contempt then fondness. The flames never quite catch your shape anymore. Constantly shifting. That coyness is gone, mini-you petulantly staying hidden behind his fingers. So he snuffs you out in his fists.

He hates you for making him miss you. A King should not be missing anyone or anything. Yet, as his vessel stands here, Sukuna teeters on the edge of breaking the Unbreakable Vow he’d made with the brat just to gaze upon you.

The painter got your resemblance and it was agony for him.

How could he continue to be without you when he’s seen you again? Days ago, he wanted to kill you for making him delirious and now he wants you back in his arms.

“Itadori.” Megumi’s tone is firmer. Nobara smacks his shoulder again and Yuuji jolts forward, nearly falling until his rigid legs quickly come back to life.

“Huh?”

“Are you alright?” Megumi asks, his thumb hovering over the DIAL button of Gojo Satoru’s number. Yuuji glances at his wrinkled shirt and releases it, confusion painted across his face at the fading pain across his chest.

“I...yeah, yeah. I'm okay. I have no idea what that was....”

Rich bodies made life significantly easier.

What was that saying humans used?

Money can’t buy happiness?

Kenjaku chuckles at the thought. Foolish and vain — typical of humans. Clinging onto whatever they can to convince their egos they’re better than most when they’ll all meet the same fate. Kenjaku forgets the exact point where he stopped seeing himself as one of them, but he’s sure anyone would if you’ve lived as long as him. Apathy. Most call it a disease of selfishness. Kenjaku simply thinks they’re lying to themselves.

“Mr Geto?” the gallery was a lucrative endeavour. A piece in his grand scheme that required little effort but great rewards. More personal gain on his end.

“Mr Hajimoto mentioned you specifically in his will. The private room is all yours. Thank you so much for your donation to this fine institution of arts.” Kenjaku offers the man a polite smile and nod. The awkward silence prompts them to open the large doors and Kenjaku is greeted by you.

(Y/N) (L/N). In all your glory. In his favourite colours and his favourite kanza. The bespoke lighting on your portrait makes his hands fall limply to his side. You were a brushstroke away from taking a breath. The colours used to recreate that undertone your skin had, the delicate curves of your lashes and the plumpness of your lip.

The two guards in the corner of the room are a nuisance. But with a simple twirl of his right hand, the Slit-Mouthed Woman makes quick work of them. This curse technique was truly convenient, the mess she made cleaned up by a different curse who laps at the blood with vigor. The noises are all muffled as he admires those vicious eyes.

Just saying your name makes warmth travel down between his legs.

“I’ve almost forgotten how you look like.”

Silence ticks by for a minute.

Then Kenjaku bursts into laughter. Clutching his stomach and covering his mouth as he does. He can still smell your blood. Even if Suguru’s body had never had the pleasure of touching you — Kenjaku remembers it.

The way it flowed out of you like silk ribbons. Warm and wet and virile.

“You are an unusual sorcerer,” those were the first words you said to him. He knows you meant that in a derisive fashion — the curl of your nose was a clear indicator. But that was the day a feverish need was planted inside of his very soul.

You. You. You.

The shape of your face.

The cadence of your voice.

The way the wind carried your scent to his nose.

The sound of your cat-like foot-steps.

The effortless way you carried yourself despite the heavy robes that a revered concubine of your rank would wear, along with the golden hair accessories that would probably break a lesser man's neck.

It didn't stop there either.

Your brain, the wickedness that ran through your very veins and that fire that burns within you. Kenjaku wanted to be inside of you in every he could fathom. To sit within that perfectly shaped skull, to thread his fingers between the locks of your hair and take a scalpel to that skin he so craves to taste. Or perhaps inside in the traditional sense, between your legs, embraced by your warm insides and your deadly arms.

Kenjaku ponders on the time he has. He decides that he should indulge in you. He undoes the robes this body wore and sighs as it reveals the torso. Bodies were all the same but he does appreciate the care Geto Suguru took into his temple — there was no need for shame when he's already desecrated this corpse so viscerally already. His hands travel down his torso and that pronounce v-line and past the patch of wiry pubic hair.

You make him feel young again. Reckless and stubborn. Your eyes watch him as he leisurely spits into his palm and strokes it over the tip.

Evil is such a lame word. So primitive in its nature, another one of human's attempts at letting go of responsibility. If something or someone were evil, they were inherently irredeemable. Humans used to call snakes evil simply for doing what a snake would do when hungry, instead of realising they shouldn't have left the door to their huts opened and their sleeping brat asleep.

Was something evil when it simply did what it was meant to do?

They were simply following natures course.

This act Kenjaku is doing now, is not perverted or evil, he is simply being. Simply living, existing, relishing.

If anything, you were the undoing. The evil. You've made, and continue to make, him lose crave and hunger. You were so cruel, so ethereal — so evil.

Kenjaku groaned your name, walking backwards and dropping onto the low seat the gallery provided. His legs spread and he hung his head down but his eyes remained affixed to your painting.

"He sounds beautiful, Mr Hajimoto," the blonde painter had told him once or twice or thrice. Young but talented, the way he used his brushes on canvas was so impressive and Kenjaku missed you so much (Y/N). He simply had to spread the wickedness of your beauty, immortalize it forever within canvases and lesser non-sorcerers minds.

"Did you know him?" his accent was clunky, the Japanese language tumbling on its delicate legs following the rhythm of the painters voice. Still, he — Mr Hajimoto, Kenjaku — gave him a gentle grin.

"Very well. He was my lover."

The small notebook the painter had written your features down in, it was displayed in this very room as well. In a glass casing, handled with gloves to ensure pesky skin oils wouldn't deteriorate his inked strokes.

Speaking of strokes, Kenjaku's was beginning to pick up it's pace. His smile now looser, like an animal that caught the scent of blood, his tongue curled over his teeth as he imagined the disgust on your face. You'd probably cover your nose with the sleeve of your robe and the thought makes his cock jump; you were wearing his favourite colours and it made him moan.

The notebook was filled with sketches of you. Kenjaku recalls correcting the human, correcting him when he disrupted the harmony of your anatomy. You were the humans muse for years, (Y/N). Even as he neared his death bed, the blonde artist kept drawing you. Sketches lose, your shape less tangible, but hauntingly beautiful. Like your dark flames flowing in the wind. Even as his memories of his life escapes him, the artist remembered you. What a blessing. Kenjaku had visited him before he died and whispered your name into the old man's ear.

Sorcerer Society keeps your name hidden. It's their way of control. Making Sukuna Ryomen more monstrous by telling others he ruled coldly and cruelly alone; death was not as harsh as being erased. They say Sukuna needed 20 of his fingers and his mummified heart to be revived. That's what those poems talked about after all.

A misunderstanding.

The heart was Sukuna's, yes.

But it wouldn't revive him.

"You were so angry," he chuckled out, "so defiant even when I was inside of you."

The sky was blood red, the black smoke making the colour more saturated as it seemed intent on blotting out the sun. Uraume had felt a sudden chill, you did too, and they swiftly rose as the scent of deceit was so thick in the air.

“Uraume,” your voice remained nonchalant. But there was a tenseness in your throat that even they could decipher through the layers of regality. They turned, mouth pressed into a thin line as they went on their knees.

You continued to stare, impassively looking down at the patterned swirl of their snow-white hair. The red and black sky turning the colour of your eyes a pleasantly mournful shade; the golden kanza in your hair that your Lord Sukuna himself had commissioned for you glimmered righteously. The teeth of a beast, the curling of centipede legs, and the melded wings of a raven. It was beautiful just as much as it was unusual.

“You leave your Lord’s prized possession to fend for himself?”

Uraume lips reveal a modest amount of teeth. Their face like a porcelain doll as they raise their head. It makes your heart flutter and squeeze.

“You are stronger than these worms, they wouldn’t dare attack you.”

This is true. A fact. You were strong. 100 sorcerers or 1, 000 sorcerers — it made no difference to you. They’d turn into dust and wither right before you. But it shocks Uraume when you place your palm against their jaw, thumb stroking over their cheekbone as you gaze down at them.

“How horrid it is, making me defend myself.”

They see your eyes soften. It was no wonder you were Lord Sukuna’s concubine. Just being touched by you, looked down upon by you; it makes their spine melt.

“I should have your head for your insolence.”

Uraume apologizes, lips stilling when your thumb presses down on them.

“Return to me. Whole. My Lord Husband and I will not be pleased if you do not. We don’t want weaklings to stand behind us.”

Uraume bows, their lips kissing your knuckles as they do before they raise and disappear from your sight. The screams of terror that are heard outside at the sight of them make you slip your eyes close.

Kenjaku appeared before you what felt like hours later. He looks at the scene with a raise of his brow. Your feet were soaked in blood as bodies were strewn across the wide room. The floor was shimmering, looking as though it was breathing as it creaked from his weight. The clothes the bodies wore painted a clear enough picture — they were your servants. Loyalties were swayed as the fight prolonged. These little ants thought they could save themselves from punishment if they showed these righteous sorcerers your head.

He couldn’t smell smoke and there were no signs of charring. The bodies were mangled beyond belief, guts spilling out, eyes gouged, arms bent unnaturally.

Yet, in the gore and horror, you stood across from him with only your feet stained by traitorous blood.

You were a vision. Delicately wiping away blood from the tiger claw kanza with the sleeve of a dead servant. Then, he watches as you carefully put it back in place atop your hair.

“Kenjaku.”

He bows his head, bending at his waist, then lifts himself up again.

“The Kamo clan, your clan, joined this rebellion. I feel that should be a good enough reason to kill you.” The fire in your eyes makes his heart race. He moves forward, casually stepping over a torn torso.

“That would be unwise,” he gives you a grin. This body of his is new. The stitches are still fresh and red. Most likely a desperate attempt of his to hide away while they destroyed his old body. The corpse is younger, and more plain-looking. Despite it’s Curse Technique being a mystery, you’ll take your chances at strangling him.

“I’ve come at the behest of your Lord Husband. To ensure your longevity.”

Your brows pinch. Kenjaku delights at the creases it creates, tucking away this sight into his memories for lonely nights. Then, you scowl.

“You lie.”

His giddiness is palpable. The wide grin on the corpse’s face is clearly not his own; cheeks lifted too high and smile too large and unnatural. Kenjaku must’ve been a truly ugly man with a truly ugly grin. The body struggles to adjust to this display of amusement.

“I’m not.”

He takes a step forward and you lift your hand. The standstill would’ve lasted longer if it weren’t for the yells and thunderous footsteps clambering up to your room.

“You lie!”

Dark flames roared out from the windows. The heat so smoldering it causes a burst of hot air to knock back the men on the stairs, burning their skin and face. The blood on the floor boils, the iron scent now more acidic as the once fleshy bodies now crumble into dust.

You feel his breathe against the nape of your neck. As you turn, he wrings his arms around you like a snake. One across your stomach, the other around your shoulder. That horrible smile is pressed against your skin.

“Kenjaku,” you growl through gritted teeth.

“That’s right. Say my name.”

Fighting feels a lot like sex.

Kenjaku can feel your passion behind every strike, the bruises you leave behind on his skin are akin to hickeys. When you yell out and scream, cheeks so hot he can feel the rush of blood to your face just from looking — the rapid pulse you have and the way your face is contorted.

Kenjaku pins you down. Your legs are thrown over his own while you gnash your teeth at him and spit insults his way. Your hair was so beautiful, thrown back around your head like a lion’s mane. He slides your wrists above your head and holds them with one hand while the other undoes the meticulous array of folds your kimono had.

Sweat drips down his nose. It’s all your fault. Using your Curse Technique in this room, charring the wood and setting it all aflame. Still, he could work in this conditions.

“Ah,” he moans at the sight of your bare skin. Watching the rise and fall of your chest, licking his lips as he places a hand over your heart.

When you kick at his stomach, he acts like he cannot feel it. When you kick again, this time hard enough for a loud crack to be heard, he looks at you.

“If you kill me, you will break the Binding Vow you and Ryomen had made with me.”

He feels your feet dig into his rib, the spiderwebs of cracks spreading further. He allows this with a pleased hum. Your ragged breathing all at once calms and with a blink, your eyes lose that unbridled fury.

“You dare say my Lord’s name so casually?”

Kenjaku laughs. As he leans down, he presses his forehead to yours. Your nose curls in disgust but you keep your lips pursed. The feeling of his sweat sliding down the sides of your forehead and dipping to travel the side of your nose; threatening to get into your eyes as it slips just beneath it.

“Forgive me, venerable concubine.” Kenjaku does not mean this. When he presses his fingers together and imbues his hand with Curse Energy. He enjoys it.

Slicing through your skin at a pace that made the cut more ghastly then it would be if it was done quickly. You remained stone-faced while Kenjaku chewed on his lower lip, every twitch or squint just fueling his hunger.

He is past your skin and now he sees the yellow, when he twists his wrist you grunt as he slices through the threads of muscles. He spreads his fingers and your teeth part as you let out a strained yell.

"You can be louder if you want," his lips brush against your cheek every time he speaks.

"When I return, I'll take pleasure in ripping your head off your body."

"Threatening me?"

He reaches bone. His finger scratching against it before he peels away and settles between your legs. Your hands aren't pinned but you do nothing but curl your fingers into fists as he shoves another hand into your chest. The squelching and pulsing of your flesh, the bursts of blood from your throbbing veins and pumping heart. The wetness and warmth of your insides. He can feel your body clenching around him, and he convinces himself its because you truly enjoy this depravity just as he does.

The size of his hands in your chest is unbearably uncomfortable. Invading you, filling you when you want nothing more than to burn him, as he moves his digits and wrists within you.

He grasps onto your bones and breaks it under the pressure of his wrist. Your blood is spraying him, staining his clothes.

"Your blood looks like ribbons," he whispers to you, "even your insides are like works of art."

You want this to be over with already.

Your arms move down, eyes still set in a glare. You slip your fingers under the soaked clothing and spread it apart further to reveal more of your skin. Shimmying your shoulders so your torso is now bare of any clothing.

The tent between his legs pressed into your crotch. It's hard to ignore, but you push through and grasp onto his elbow and force him to go in deeper.

"Promising you."

Kenjaku's elbow straightens sharply and he moans as he feels your heart beating in his palm. He pulls it out of your body, panting as your eyes slip close and your heart slows. Beating slowly...slowly...slowly...

Kenjaku moans at the memory of your heart in his hands. Your warm blood coating his skin, drying under his nails and crackling in the creases of his joints.

"I wanted to keep you on me forever," he grunts out as his pace gets faster. "The smell of you, of your flesh."

"I didn't need your body, but it was too beautiful not to be admired."

Kenjaku throws his head back, placing his palm across his nose and lips as he sifts through his memories so he can conjure it all over again.

The painting watches on impassively. The croons and purrs of Geto Suguru's cursed spirits echo faintly in Kenjaku's ears while his hips thrusts into his own fist. It's desperate. He usually isn't like this. Even when he was creating the Death Womb Paintings — even when his plans are so close to coming into fruition.

You make him like this. Make him lose control, every thought poisoned with you even when you're nothing more than a mummified heart hidden so desperately away by Sorcerer Society.

"I've gotten a lead," Uraume had informed him just a few days ago. "They've hidden him in the ocean in an underwater research facility."

"Underwater, hah, they think it'll keep your flames contained. Keep your loyal servant away as if the depths of the ocean is enough to scare them, us — Oh, (Y/N)."

His fist stops and Kenjaku stands, removing his clothing fully as he places a hand against the wall of the gallery. The textured wall, the grooves, give way to his nails as he digs them in. He stares into your eyes, imagining the crease of your furrowed brow and Kenjaku groans out your name as he cums all over the wall.

"...Oh, I can't wait to see you again, venerable concubine."

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Their planning session didn’t bear much fruit. Harrington had tried the water in his sink, and it came out a murky black. When he pulled snacks out of a hidden bottom in one of his dresser drawers, each unopened pack was full of mold and ash. 

They had no weapons, no game-plan, and the sky was still red. In short, they were fucked. 

The bickering was kept barely civil by the need to control their volume. 

“–just think we should consider scoping the place out!” Harrington was whispering but enunciating like a shout. “For all we know there’s good food at the store, or a way out of here right where we went in, or at least some water at the quarry!���

“You want to drink quarry water? That shit’s inedible even when there’s not toxic ash particles floating in it!”

“That’s not the point!” Harrington’s passing in front of him, raking his hand through his drooping hair. “We can’t just hide in my room forever. No one’s coming to save us!”

“Not forever, man.” Eddie replies, leg twitching from where he’s still sitting at the edge of Harrington’s bed. “But that thing’s still out there. I don’t know about you, but I think we should have a better idea for surviving it than just hoping it’s not out there!”

Harrington droops, shoulders, mouth, hair, and then drops to the carpet where he was standing. “Shit, okay, okay, you’re right.”

That same thrill goes through him at seeing Harrington beneath his feet. He squashes it down, scooching off the bed to sit across from Harrington on the floor. 

“Hey,” Eddie says, voice gone quiet and kind at the look of desolation on Harrington’s face. “We’re gonna figure this shit out, man.”

Harrington laughs, and it sounds remarkably like the laugh he always heard across high school hallways and cafeterias and gyms. Hollow. Eddie has the absurd urge to throw his arms around him. 

“Okay man, how about we start by raiding your closet. I don’t know about you, but my clothes reek like your rich-boy pool.”

Harrington scoffs, but dutifully levers himself off the floor to shuffle through his open closet. He throws a navy blue long sleeve in Eddie’s direction, followed by an awful pair of bleach-washed jeans, socks, and a pair of underwear. 

Then, like Eddie’s another jock and they’re in the locker room after practice, Harrington starts stipping with no regard to modesty. Eddie quickly turns his back from the sight and begins to do the same. His jeans jangle when he drops them on the carpet, chain and lunch box rattling when they hit the floor. Eddie holds a silent memorial for all the dignity he was about to lose.

He’s just pulled the slightly short pants on and buttoned the fly when he hears the little “huh,” Harrington lets out.

Quickly pulling the shirt over his head, he turns to see what Harrington’s on about. Luckily, the other boy still had his underwear on. Unluckily that was all he had on as he crouched down and stared at the ring cradled in his hand. Absurdly, Eddie thought of Gollum and had to bite his lip on the laugh in his throat.

“Whatcha got there, Stevie boy?”

Still crouched, Harrington held the ring up toward Eddie, clutched between pointer finger and thumb, looking like a man picking the worst possible moment to propose marriage.

“This yours?” he asks.

It was. “Where’d you get that?” he demands, snatching it from Harrington’s grasp.

“Fell out of my pants.”

Eddie looks down at the little ring in his palm. It was his Mom’s–the perfect size for only his littlest fingers. He remembers the pressure and sudden pain of his finger being wrenched out of where it was tucked into Harrington’s pants. He hadn’t even realized it was missing. 

Slipping it onto his other pinkie, Eddie murmurs a quiet “thanks,” cheeks blooming with color at the implications. 

Harrington doesn’t respond, but Eddie can feel his gaze on the back of his head as he walks over to Harrington’s horrific plaid curtains and twitches them back to look outside. There’s nothing to see but the same red sky, the same vine-covered pool, the same empty backyard they’d fled last night. 

Not wanting to stare at the hopeless sight anymore, Eddie bends down to pull the borrowed socks and his slightly damp boots back on his feet.

Eddie can hear the sound of clothes shuffling behind him, refusing to turn back around until the sound stops. But then Harrington gasps out, “Nancy?”

Eddie turns, expecting to see Harrington’s girlfriend miraculously in the room with them, but there’s nothing but Harrington spinning wildly around the room, looking for something Eddie can’t see. 

“Nancy?” he says again, louder this time, still at nothing.

Eddie’s sure he’s gone around the bend, and he’s going to have to put him down like old yeller, but then he hears it, “-would he have gone?” It’s quiet, muffled, but there.

“I don’t know, Nancy,” another voice replies, sounding exasperated. “Maybe he’s off with his parents vacationing in Europe or something. Who cares? Can we go before someone calls the police?”

“Barb?” Steve calls again, growing louder still. 

Eddie still can’t see anyone, but he calls out “Wheeler?” desperate to be heard.

“Will is missing, though!” Wheeler replies. Her voice sounds shrill—less like she’s panicking and more like she’s about ready to lose it and sock her friend in the jaw. “Do you really think that’s a coincidence?”

“Yes!”

“Nancy!” Steve calls again, this time loud enough to echo through the room.

Eddie’s yanked open the closed door to the Harrington’s stupid en-suite bathroom, like Wheeler and her mystery friend will suddenly appear in the bath tub, hanging out like the world is still normal. He’s even poked his head into the dark interior of the closet they’d slept in, but no dice.

Harrington is still screaming his head off to the two girl’s who are either playing the world’s cruelest prank or simply can’t hear him, when Eddie opens Harrington’s bedroom door.

It happens before he’s taken even one step out into the hallway. There’s that sound that makes his hair stand on end. Foxes chittering, television static trapped in an enclosed box and made horrific and animal. Eddie closes the door.

Harrington’s still screaming as it grows louder—grows closer.

“Harrington,” he snaps, voice cracking on each syllable.

He doesn’t stop screaming until Eddie’s backed up right into him, unable to look away from the door as he trips over Harrington’s feet. His shoulders are setadied.

Nancy’s still talking. Eddie can’t hear her over Harrington’s ragged breathing, over that thing chittering up the stairs.

“Munson, what’s—” He must hear it because he stops talking, and his nails really dig in, little pricks of pain that Eddie wants to lean back into.

He finds himself bargaining in his brain to some nebulous being he doesn’t believe in. He’ll let Harrington beat him bloody if that thing doesn’t come into this room. He’ll tell Wayne he loves him more. He’ll stop skipping P.E. He’ll go to church, god damn it! But none of it works. The sound grows louder.

Harrington’s forearm is suddenly in front of his sternum, pulling him along backwards. Eddie stumbles further into him, letting his weight drop onto Harrington fully. The bastard doesn’t even seem to notice, as he continues dragging Eddie bodily away from the door.

Wheeler’s friend is talking now. Eddie has no idea what she’s saying, only that her voice turns angry and shrill just as Harrington begins to slide his bedroom window up. Just as that horrific nightmare of a monster busts down Harrington’s bedroom door like it’s a cardboard playhouse.

He’s paralyzed, rooted to the spot as the thing opens its gaw and screams, twining horrifically with the mundanity of two invisible girls arguing. The blinds clack together as Harrington lunges through them, pulling Eddie out the window behind him. He can hear the strings holding them together snap–knows the sound intimately from all the guitar strings he’d broken while learning.

His back scrapes painfully on the top of the sill as he’s crammed through the opening. He doesn’t care what shapes Harrington configures his body into as long as he keeps pulling him away from that thing. 

His opinion holds as Harrington drags him bodily across the shingles of his roof. The monster lunges, stuck halfway through the too-small window, as Eddie’s hauled upright.

“Fucking, go,” Harrington yells, shoving him toward the sheer drop off the roof. He’s just considering jumping when he continues, somehow finding the energy to sound exhausted, “the gutters, man. Shimmy down. I do it all the time.”

He’s not looking at Eddie anymore, back turned like somehow keeping the monster in sight will stop it from swallowing them whole. 

Eddie eyes the gutter. It looks flimsy and too smooth to hold onto, but the horrific sounds emanating from Harrington’s bedroom make a compelling argument. He kneels, latches his hands into the loop of the gutter and swings himself off the roof. 

Vertigo almost takes him down, but Eddie manages to hang on, shuffling quickly down as he hears glass begin to splinter from above. 

Harrington’s foot catches him in the shoulder before he makes it all the way down. His fingers slip–he falls.

It’s not a long fall, but he lays, winded in the aftermath and watching Harrington leap and roll like some goddamn action hero, before he’s yanking Eddie up and dragging him blindly away from the house.

It’s quiet by the time they reach the woods. Eddie can’t hear Harrington behind him past his own ragged breathing. He only knows he’s there by the warm hand clutched tightly into his vest, like he’s a school child fond of running into the road. Eddie doesn’t mind.

He minds even less when, once fully ensconced in the trees, Harrington pushes him against a tree and pulls him down beside him. 

It’s reminiscent of those first moments in the closet. They’re close together, Eddie can’t catch his breath, and they’re both staring, horrified in front of them waiting for the big bad wolf to come eat them.

Harrington is holding his hand.

Part 4

[queenshelby]

The Fourth Season (Rewritten)

Part Two: First Day Blues

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Religious and Anti-Religious Themes, Mild Smut, Sex Scene

Previous Parts: 1; 

Day One 

You slowly rolled over as the alarm from your phone started to increase in volume and then you groaned as you sat up, your hair especially wild this morning.

You sat there not exactly excited to be up at this hour, but then you knew that today was the day your life would change forever.

Reaching high above yourself, you stretched, feeling the pop and creak of your bones, which was something unusual for you and probably due to the fact that your new living arrangements were somewhat strange for you still.

Just two months ago, you separated from your husband and high-school sweetheart James and moved back into your parents’ house in Cork before embarking on your new acting journey.

You were now staying in Wexford to film a movie called “Small Things Like These” and since this was your first movie role, you were rather nervous about it. Thus, you didn’t sleep well which was pretty much what happened whenever you were placed into unfamiliar surroundings and the last two nights were somewhat uneasy for you.

The fact that your ex was working on set with you did not help either. He was in charge of logistics and placed you into a small unit with two other cast members named Lorraine and Emma respectively.

Being around strangers, however, didn’t bother you and after you hopped out of bed, you started about your morning routine, bounding across the tiny apartment, putting together a bag that would be needed for the day.

‘Are you ready? And excited?’ your new roommate Emma asked and, after taking one final step in front of your mirror, you nodded.

‘As ready as I can be’ you said before you took in a deep breath and, together with Emma, you walked out the front door of your apartment which was conveniently located right next to where the film crew had set up camp.

During your short walk downstairs, Emma tried to talk to you, but you were too nervous to respond. You struggled to focus and you could not fight the urge to start humming to yourself as you reflected on things including your separation from James after a total of eight years.

***Flashback***

 Two months ago, James admitted to infidelity which occurred when he was working on a set in the US and this mishap ultimately cost him his marriage.

You told him that it was over and, since he was the one with the higher income between you both, you decided to move out and leave him with the house you shared in Cork.

At the time, your parents were supportive of your decision, thinking that you simply needed a break but when they learned that you engaged a solicitor to handle your divorce, all hell broke loose.

As such, during the past two months, you were dragged through the so called “process” the church envisaged for members of your congregation and since both your families were strictly catholic, you had little but no choice than to attend numerous counselling sessions with James.

Thus, you sat down with the monsignor and a counsellor of your church on three separate occasions and every single time James repented and thought that you would forgive him for his indiscretions. According to the counsellor, it would have been the reasonable thing to do, but for you, it was not.

You told James to “go to hell” in no uncertain terms and this caused a shitstorm like you had never seen before.

Your parents were outraged by your attitude towards the church and your beloved husband and the fact that you took up a role in this upcoming movie made matters even worse for you and your family as the movie itself criticised the catholic church and their past actions.

Of course, for James to work on set and for you taking the role, were two entirely different things, which just highlighted again the double standards imposed by your kin and it were exactly those double standards you could no longer accept.

Thus, you applied to the courts for divorce  and you most certainly took the role which you knew would change your career forever, seeing that this was a movie produced by two famous actors.

 By this time, you had spent all your days learning and practicing your lines. You were sent your scripts and read them every day, over and over again, and soon began to realise that, what was expected of you, was much more than you had anticipated.

 Amongst the dialogue and acting out different kinds of emotions, there were two intimate scenes you had to participate in and, in one of those, you would be almost completely naked. All of the scenes were with Cillian Murphy whose wife you had to portray in the movie and, unbeknownst to you, when you signed up, these scenes were scripted entirely at the discretion of the screenwriter to gain more interest from the audience.

 Given your lack of sexual experience, this was something that concerned you. You had only ever been with James and your sex life had been rather vanilla to say the least. Nonetheless, you tried to get into character for the role and considered your own sexuality and femininity some more. You wasted a good eight years with your husband of being boring and unadventurous and, now, this had to change. You at least needed to learn how to flirt and be seductive and, sure enough, your best friend Siobhan, who lived in Dublin, gave you some good pointers.

The role required you to be stunning, to be open, and have the body language of a woman in control of her own emotions. This clearly wasn’t you, so you had some learning to do.

 According to the script, you were the one who needed to lead at least one of the scenes now scripted and this was something you were unsure about. How, on earth, could you do this with someone like Cillian Murphy? By what you have seen of his work, he was an incredibly talented actor. He was much more experienced than you and he was also twenty years older than you and, yet, you had to lead the scene? Seriously?

 ***End of Flashback***

  Making a quick right, you walked straight onto set with Emma. It was her first day too but, unlike you, she had worked with Cillian and some of the others before and thus was not completely overwhelmed by all the cameras and strangers.

‘Y/N, Emma, welcome’ a blonde woman by the name of Lorraine said to you and, just as you reached for her hand to shake it, the director, Tim, came flying by and pulled you aside.

‘You are early. Good’ he said before telling you that Lorraine, who happened to be Cillian’s personal assistant, would be looking after your schedule as well which, according to him, had just changed due to an equipment break down on set three.

‘Okay, right’ you panicked while Lorraine was flicking through her notes in a haste. Everyone seemed to have been stressed out that day because of the technical issues on set and Lorraine was no exception.

‘What scene is up first then? you thus enquired carefully after waiting patiently until, suddenly another man appeared and hurried you along.

‘We will start with scene four, then move to scene eleven and then, this afternoon, we will shoot scene thirty’ he told you and you were lucky that he handed you a running sheet as, otherwise, you would have gotten rather confused by now.

‘Scene thirty? Today?’ you asked with some confusion and, whilst you knew that the scenes for the movie were to be filmed out of order, this scene itself made you panic.

‘Yes. At 3 o’clock’ Tim, the director, then said before taking off again in order to deal with the camera issues on hand.

‘Dear god, they are throwing you right into the deep end, don’t they?’ Emma observed as she looked at your running sheet and saw that scene thirty was an intimate one with Cillian.

‘I am not prepared for this’ you pointed out to her anxiously especially since you have not even met your co-star yet but Emma reassured you that you would be fine.

‘No one ever is but Cillian is easy to work with. You will be fine’ Emma then reassured you, which is when Lorraine made a somewhat inappropriate joke.

‘I am sure some of the other cast members would happily trade places with you’ she teased before pulling you along and giving you a calm and relaxing stroll through the street  following which you spent some more time rehearsing your lines.

An hour later…

Your first scene was with Emma herself who played one of your daughters and, even though Emma was older than you, the make-up department did a fantastic job in making you look somewhat ancient.

This scene itself was easy to film. It took less than three takes and both, the director and Cillian, who had also stepped on to set a few minutes ago, were impressed by your efforts.

“I can see that you are doing well” Cillian said as he greeted you and his demur most certainly put you at ease. He appeared to be so comfortable even if surrounded by all these cameras and this really impressed you and calmed you down.

“It was an easy scene” you told him almost shyly before the director called you both. You had literally no time to chat until you were up, filming your second scene with the man himself.

This scene was more dialogue heavy but you were convincing and passionate nonetheless and, just as you filmed the end of this particular scene, Emma still watched you quietly and smiled.

She acted like a big sister, taking you under her wing and her presence clearly calmed you down as well.  

After about six takes, Tim and the others were happy with your work and praised you again. According to them, six takes for something like this was not a lot and you appreciated their kind words.

After you were done with the scene, you took a break and spent some more time with Emma, following which you were sent to the dressing rooms.

You had to get changed for your next scene, which was the rather raunchy scene between your character and Cillian’s character and, whilst there was not much dialogue in this scene, it was the scene that concerned you the most.

You were meant to lead this scene and, by this point, you had barely met the man who the scene was with. Cillian and you only exchanged a total of five sentences which, in your opinion, was not enough in order to get comfortable around him without wearing any clothes.

An hour later…

Luckily for you, you had waxed your legs and every other part of your body just two days ago and yet, when you sat down and a tall woman applied your make up, she still found a hair or two which she plugged away.

Unlike before when you were wearing somewhat ugly brown clothes for your scenes, this time around, you were sitting there in beige underwear while being assessed by the staff and, quickly, a few scars and blemishes were patched up with some foundation.

You were then given some lingerie which was raunchier than anything else you had ever worn before. It took your breath away and you felt incredibly vulnerable when you put it on. On top, you had to wear a woollen cardigan and you were also given some suspenders to put on which you knew your co-star would have to take off slowly.

‘Looks great. We are ready, I think’ the make-up artist eventually said and, out of respect for Cillian, you quickly brushed your teeth before having your lipstick topped up.

Regardless of all the preparation and your deep breathing techniques, you were out of your depth with a scene like this and, when you first walked onto the so called ‘closed’ set dressed in nothing more than a cardigan and underwear, you began to fidget a little.

You were the first one there and sat down in the area indicated for you. It was a tiny bed in the middle of a room which was said to be inside the main characters’ house. There were no windows, but several drapes which divided this part of the set from the rest of the building.

Eventually, Tim the director joined you and so did a camera man, followed by your co-star, Cillian and the crew’s intimacy co-ordinator shortly thereafter.

‘Hey’ Cillian said quietly and you could see that this was as at least a little awkward for him too. ‘Are you alright? You look nervous” he then asked while taking a seat next to you and you carefully bit your lip and stammered out a response.

‘Yes, for a matter of fact, I am nervous. This is my first day on set and I didn’t expect to film a scene like this quite so soon” you admitted while assessing your partner inadvertently as he wore nothing but a worn pair of brown trousers.

“Yeah, timing is not on your side, is it?” Cillian chuckled before apologising for the change in schedule which, you knew, he had nothing to do with, and just as you both sat there, making small talk, the director and intimacy co-coordinator came to see you both.

‘Now, this is what I need from you both’ the director began to say before explaining the scene to you.

According to Tim, it was you who had to take control while , yet, Cillian was to remove your cardigan, suspenders and bra. Tim also explained to Cillian where to place his arm so that your breasts would not be visible on camera before the intimacy co-ordinator addressed your comfortableness level with this kind of scene.

‘We know that Cillian is used to being naked on set but, to you, this is probably something new and my word of advice is to ignore the fact that we are here. You can improvise on the lines and we will shoot the scene in three steps, giving you a break in between’ Tim then furthermore explained and, with that, you nervously nodded before Cillian and you both waited for everyone to get into place.

***

Just as Tim was about to call action however, the team was interrupted as James barged on to scene, relaying yet another issue on set two.

“You cannot just barge in here. This is a closed set” the intimacy co-ordinator said somewhat angrily as James was standing there now, talking to both, Tim and Cillian, while you tried to cover up your semi naked body with the tiny cardigan you had.

“I am sure it is fine. He is her husband” Tim said, dismissing the fact that James saw you like this and you felt it be necessary to correct him.

“We are separated actually, but I am still fine” you pointed out, causing Cillian to look at you with some surprise before pulling his large jacket off the chair behind the camera and handing it to you.

“I am sorry” he then said and you were not quite sure what Cillian was apologising for, but nodded nonetheless before the three of them wrapped up their discussions.

***

After they were done and everyone was back in situ, the director outlined the scene to you once more and, after Tim indicated to the team that everyone was ready now, you took off Cillian’s jacket and placed it aside.

‘Are you alright?’ Cillian then asked and you immediately snapped out of your somewhat intrusive thoughts about how to pull this off.

‘Just nervous. Sorry’ you admitted shyly in response and Cillian smiled.

‘Like I said, there is no need to. We all dislike these kind of scenes. Just follow the directions of the crew and you will be fine. I promise’ he then reassured you and you nodded all while some sweat was building up on your forehead.

‘Okay, I will try. I am ready I think’ you then said, causing Cillian to nod and, whilst it was obvious to him that you had not done this kind of scene before, he remained calm and patient.

‘Me too’ Cillian then said, shortly after which Tim called “action” and you began your dialogue.

Cillian’s presence, however, threw you off guard completely and you needed at least three goes to even get your lines right at the beginning of the scene before you could even move on to the next part, which is where you were wrapping your arms around Cillian’s body.

You did, however, get there in the end and the director called cut. You took a breather and then commenced part two of the scene, which was also the longest and most uncomfortable part you.

‘I don’t know what to tell them. It has been fifteen years…” Cillian began to say with heavy Irish accent as part of the dialogue and you pulled him in tight.

‘You don’t tell them anything and, at least for now, forget about!” you said as you felt the bulging muscles of Cillian’s core.

“I am trying Eileen. I am trying, alright?” he asked and, just as you took in a deep breath and inhaled the fresh scent that accompanied him, you began to stammer.

‘Cut’ the director called and you quickly apologised.

‘You weren’t wrong when you said that you were nervous’ Cillian acknowledged and you wanted to responded with a snappy ‘duh’. Of course you were nervous. You were there, with a stranger, hugging his naked body.

‘I am sorry’ you told him and, just as the director gave you both another quick break, Cillian had a chat with you about the scene.

‘Take a deep breath and try to think about being somewhere else, with someone else. A park maybe, with someone you are attracted to…’ Cillian began to say before giving you some pointers on how to feel comfortable, naked, in front of the camera. But what he didn’t know was that the cameras weren’t what threw you off. It was him. You felt some strange kind of attraction towards this man all of a sudden and even though he was twenty years older than you. What he also did not know was that he was only the second man who had ever seen you like this and you knew that, within minutes, he would be taking off your cardigan, unclasping your bra and kiss you. This, too, was new for you and you began to panic.

‘A park? You want me to imagine being naked in a park, kissing someone I am attracted to?’ you then eventually asked him and laughed to cover up your nervousness and this, too, made Cillian laugh as well.

‘Okay, maybe a park was a bad example. Maybe your house. Your bedroom. Somewhere else, where you would usually have some privacy’ Cillian chuckled and you momentarily closed your eyes and tried.

‘Okay. Let’s do this’ you then said again and Cillian nodded before giving Tim the go ahead.

‘Okay then’ he confirmed and, after about three goes, you managed to say your lines and found yourself in Cillian’s embrace.

Just as the script demanded, Cillian then slid the cardigan off your shoulders and it landed on the floor while you tried to push him on to the bed. He let you, but each time you tried to be dominant, it looked awkward and, eventually, Tim called cut again, for the tenth’s time.

‘Okay, this is not going to work. Let’s move on and revisit this part later. Maybe we can even cut that part out. Let’s see what we get’ he then said before directing you to both get on to the bed which is where he would pick up on the scene.

You felt a little deflated but, just as you were supposed to do, you climbed on top of Cillian’s half naked body and he sat up and caressed your back.

You tried your best not to make contact with his intimate region as you rocked back and forth, allowing your clothed breasts to move against his body while caressing his face until, finally, he kissed you and you began to crumble again.

The nervousness inside your bones was evident to the director and so was the fact that, contrary to the script, you did not take the lead. You were unable to take the lead and Cillian realised that you were getting rather uncomfortable.

‘I am so sorry’ you said to Cillian who was nothing but professional and polite despite the fact that, no doubt, he didn’t really want to kiss you over and over again. By this point, you were up to take eight. Eight kisses and you simply couldn’t get it right.

You looked shy, afraid and nervous and Cillian was quick to hand you his jacket again as the scene was called off once more.

‘Don’t be sorry, alright!’ Cillian said. ‘It is your first day and a scene like this, on your first, is pretty harsh’ Cillian said before telling you about his embarrassing scene in a movie called 28 Days Later.

‘That is very reassuring, but I feel like a failure right now’ you said and there was something endearing about how he was so polite, yet his voice shook your core.

‘You are not. I have seen your stage work, Y/N. It was the best I have seen a very long time and this is exactly why I wanted you for this role” Cillian said and, after yet another break, the director picked up on the scene again and, this time around, gave you slightly different instructions.

As before, you tried to follow them and, this time around, you finally managed to get some of the scene right, including a close-up kiss with Cillian.

But then, the next part of this scene involved much more and when the director and the camera man gave Cillian instructions again on how to move and how to remove your bra so that your bare breasts were not visible on screen, your nervousness returned.

This man was about to take off part of your underwear. Your bare breasts were going to be visible to him and, the worst of it all, was that there was actual skin to skin contact between you. Bare chested and semi-naked, you had to pretend to have sex. You had to moan and pull his hair while he had to pretend to bite your neck. It was a raunchy scene and, after it took you one hour already to get a twenty second kiss and some mild physical interaction on camera, you didn’t know how long it would take you to get a scene like this wrapped up.

You did one take, then another, then a third and, eventually, during your fourth take your bra finally came off and the embarrassment and shame was written all over your face.

You tried again, and again and again but between that, the moaning and hairpulling, it soon became too much for you and Cillian put a stop to it. The scene was not going to get done today and you knew that this was your fault.

You felt deflated and thought that, perhaps, you were not meant to be an actress after all. Perhaps they should have casted someone older or someone with more experience.

You did not even know why you reacted like this in the first place. Why was this so god damn difficult? Was it because of your lack of experience or was it because you felt somewhat flustered in Cillian’s presence? The fact that you thought that he was incredibly attractive did not help you. It made it so much worse and you felt like a little school girl who was too afraid to steal a candy bar from the school cafeteria for the fear of getting caught by the principal.

Of course, no one should ever do that and you thought that this was the most ridiculous analogy you could ever think of but, in the end, you could not come up with anything else.

When you filmed this scene (or at least tried to film this scene) your body was waking up to the idea of having another man pressed against your body for which you did not have much experience at your age. But Cillian did, and tried to guide you, with his arms pulling you and manoeuvring you like a delicate doll. And yet, his efforts were futile as your actions did not translate to the dominance your character was meant to portray.  

It was a disaster and the director was not exactly impressed by how the filming day ended and neither were you.

***

Later that day, back at the small unit which you shared with Emma, you sat down and rehearsed your scenes for Day Two. You had two scenes with Cillian and, luckily for you, neither of them were intimate ones. Despite this, you knew that you had to pick up your game but Emma believed that you were doing much better than you had thought.

‘Listen, your scenes are great. Sex scenes are awkward and after having worked with Cillian in the past I can tell you that he will not be annoyed or frustrated with you. He is one of the producers of this movie and probably called off the scene to do you a favour. He is a nice and caring guy and is very professional even though, sometimes, he acts like a twelve year old child’ Emma laughed after you told her in great detail about what happened that day and what you thought that Cillian might think about you now, causing you to panic about tomorrow’s schedule scenes with him.

‘He seems nice. But still. I failed. Miserably’ you said but Emma shook her head and pulled you off your seat.

‘What are you doing?’ you wanted know and all she had told you was that you had to come with her.

“We are going for a quick drive” she announced and you didn’t dare to question her.

***

Fifteen minutes later, you eventually arrived at a small cottage outside Wexford and got out of Emma’s car.

As you stood there, wondering what was going on, Emma began to knock on the door and, after about a minute, you were surprised when Cillian opened it, seeing that this was his rather secluded accommodation for the duration of the show.

‘Hey’ Cillian said before smiling and furrowing his eyebrows all at the same time.

‘Do you want to come in?’ he then asked politely as Emma already marched through the door and you were still standing there, frozen to the spot.

‘Uhm, yeah. Sure. Thanks’ you stammered as, in his pyjamas, he was a little less intimidating than being half naked.

‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’ Cillian then joked, seeing that, clearly, Emma was not there, at the cottage, just for fun and, when she asked him for a quick chat about today, you began to get a little nervous again.

‘A chat? Sure’ he said. ‘Can I offer you a drink?’ he then asked with a smile. His demur was generally friendly and down to earth.

‘What do you have?’ Emma asked cheekily while looking through his fridge.

‘Guinness or tap water. I am out of wine’ he laughed, causing Emma to roll her eyes.

‘Tap water’ she chuckled and Cillian’s look turned to you.

‘I don’t drink alcohol, so water please’ you told him and he went to pour you and Emma a glass of water with some ice.

‘You don’t drink? At all?’ Cillian then asked surprised and you nodded while he handed you the glass.

‘So?’ Cillian then asked, waiting for Emma to fill him in and, when she asked Cillian to tell you the story about their first ever intimate scene together on stage, he began to laugh.

‘Fuck, really?’ Cillian chuckled before realising why Emma wanted him to spill the beans on his little mishap. What happened today was clearly embarrassing for you and Emma wanted you to realise that it was not as uncommon as you thought.

With that in mind, Cillian did, indeed, tell you what happened and, according to him, the stage production had to be called off for three days because he inadvertently broke Emma’s nose.

‘How?’ you wanted to know, causing Cillian to shake his head. He could laugh about it now and so could Emma but, back then, more than ten years ago, he was petrified.

‘We rehearsed a scene on stage and it took about ten takes. It was not as intense as the scene we filmed today but it was a difficult one for us both. Then, when Enda finally called cut, I got up, leaning against one of the props and it slipped.  My forehead went straight down and I hit Emma’s nose, breaking it’ Cillian explained reluctantly and you gasped.

‘Yeah, I was naked and covered in blood while Cillian almost fainted’ Emma laughed, causing Cillian to roll his eyes.

‘I did not almost faint’ he ought to clarify but Emma continued to tease him.

‘You so did. You turned pale and got all dizzy’ she said, causing even you to laugh.

‘Right, so today wasn’t so bad after all then?’ you acknowledged and both Emma and Cillian shook their heads.

‘Honestly? This scene should never have been scheduled for today.  It was your first day on set and I spoke to Tim about it. We will just give it another crack in a few weeks or scrap it’ Cillian said and you appreciated his words.

‘I don’t want to scrap the scene. Clearly, you think that it is important’ you then said but Cillian laughed.

‘It is not that important. The production company wanted some sex and nudity, that’s all it is’ Cillian acknowledged.

‘Aren’t they getting to see your naked butt in the first twenty minutes? Isn’t that enough’ Emma then teased, causing you both to laugh.

‘Apparently not’ Cillian told her and, just after you had a little laugh yourself, you asked them both how they ever manage to film scenes likes this, namely raunchy intimate scenes.

‘Cillian? You’ve done a few more than me. Tell her about them’ Emma went on to say but Cillian simply laughed again.

‘What works for me will not necessarily work for you. I honestly just try to switch off and focus on my lines and the directions given to me’ he explained while shrugging his shoulders.

‘Great. I did try that and, quite evidently, it did not work’ you told him.

‘It might after we have some more scenes together. Like I said, I think that it was a mistake having a scene like this scheduled for the first day on set even if it was scheduled that way simply due to the mechanical breakdown on set three. You’ll be fine and we can talk through the scene beforehand if you like’ Cillian suggested and you nodded nervously.

‘That’s true. You will get to know each other first before you have to make out again. That always helps’ Emma chuckled, causing Cillian to cock an eyebrow.

‘Your comment is not very helpful Emma. Making out? Really? This is art, work, or whatever you want to call it. But it is not making out’ Cillian laughed, trying to cheer you up and you sure had a quick chuckle yourself when he commented on Emma’s suggestion.

‘Well, I tell you what I do Y/N and no offense to you Cillian, but when I film a scene like this I think about the man in my life and just switch off. So, if you have a boyfriend, think about him. That might help with the comfort level’ Emma explained causing Cillian’s eyes to widen.

‘I do not. I am single. Happily so. I only just separated from my husband’ you said and Cillian couldn’t help but comment again.

‘Yeah, about that…” he said with some concern before carrying on. “How will you go working with him on set? He is our logistics manager and Tim is rather concerned about you having separated from each other” Cillian pointed out seeing that it was him who convinced Tim to cast you in the first place and in spite of the fact that you were married to someone else employed by the production company.

“Honestly? I hate his guts! But I am professional enough to put my personal life aside and concentrate on my work, so don’t worry. I will just be fine” you told him, hoping that James would be able to do the same.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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[redge]

【推しの子】 Final arc thoughts (WIP)

I decided to write this after reading chapter 161 and while everybody is already giving up on the story, I want to trust Akasaka-sensei and read on until the final chapter. Please Akasaka-sensei let's end this beautifully

Chapter 152 - Interview

One of the reasons why I am completely not sold that Aqua is *redacted* is because of the interviews from volume 1 that started showing up for this final volume. Which means that the other interviews will need to appear in 165 or 166 and in those interviews, Ruby and Kana both mentioned Aqua. Call me delusional but yeah, I am (and very hopeful please Akasaka-sensei I am begging you prove us wrong) .

Chapter 152 started with the interview session with the director I'm rereading the chapter as I am writing this and oh that Gotanda-Kaburagi conversation 😭 I mean are you telling me that this volume started this strong only for it to blow off like that?! Prove us wrong Akasaka-sensei!

"Unless I get my revenge on you, we won't be able to move towards the future."

I mean?! Why would you write this character strongly talking about the future on the premise that you are going to *redacted* this character like why?! It just doesn't add up 🤡

Chapter 153 - Fiction

It's so funny how this controversial kiss scene was only addresed in this chapter and just as a part of the movie, nothing more 🤣 It's a bizarre world we live in 🤡

Oh Hikaru Kamiki. How much of your statements were lies and truth? You are one confusing character 💭

"I loved her from the bottom of my heart, after all."

"I'm glad I could finally talk to you."

Send help 😭 No like why was this conversation so different from their conversation in 161 like just why where did all those dark feelings came from I don't understand 😭

"I heard the sound of the world collapsing"

💔

Chapter 154 - 15-Year Lie

Will I really read chapter 154 again? This chapter was heartbreaking 🥺

I won't say much about this chapter here anymore because I think I poured my heart out when I wrote these thoughts on chapter 154.

Just skimming through the pages and I am still really really sad about this chapter ugh

"This movie is a timeless love letter from Ai to you"

And then we get a story where the son *redacted* the father and the son *redacted* in the process?! Like come on. Give Ai a break! She did not risk giving birth to these twins just for that to happen?! Like Akasaka-sensei are you out of your mind?! No please come on sensei not this ending I beg you.

Chapter 155 - Happy End

This chapter was so beautiful like everything from this point on was full of hope, a serene future ahead so why?! 🙃

Yes we're not forgetting Yura we've been remembering her since the chapter she died only to still not know anything about her death hahahahaha gosh the mixed feelings this manga is giving me 😂

Chapter 156 - Mem

And the final arc even included a Memcho chapter where she's talking about the future! Everything is leading towards future and dreams so why are you making that character sleep forever I don't understand the more I write this the more I get furious hahaha

"I'll remain in the gray and swim through it brilliantly."

Oh Memcho ~☆

Chapter 157 - An Ordinary Day, A Wonderful Day

And you keep on showing us that Aqua is studying for medical school, have this ordinary day at peace with his twin sister and then what?! 🙃

"As long as you're here with me"

Good grief Ruby would be crushed if she would know that Aqua is *redacted* more so if she would know that he did it to secure her future like why would your twin be happy going on a future without the most important person beside her like come on make it make senseeeeeee

Chapter 158 - Jewel

There are arguments in the fandom that the reason they can't ride that Ruby suddenly became this brilliant idol was because it lacks foundation. I guess it does but even from the first few chapters, it was subtly laid down to us that Ruby would become a brilliant idol some day. When she auditioned, though Aqua tried everything to hinder Ruby's auditions, she was still scouted. When Kana was having secknd thoughts when Ruby recruited her to become an idol, she says she sees potential in her. So I was not surprised that Ruby would become this brilliant idol.

Why would you give us a panel saying that Kamiki is asking Nino to surrender to the police only to show on the latter chapters that Kamiki had already gone beyond saving like is he really just a manipulative asshole how much of these were truth and lies?!

Oh that last page 👀

Chapter 159 - Resonance

"I'm wearing a..."

I feel that everything went downhill from this chapter so if given a choice I'd skip this chapter until chapter 164 and just read the last two chapters. Because I have full hope that Aqua is not *redacted* and that will be shown on chapter 165 or 166.

I will keep on asking how much of Hikaru Kamiki are lies and truth because I am honestly so confused on what they want to project him like what is he even?

Chapter 160 - Eye

"You tried to kill Ruby, didn't you?!"

But why is the expression of Hikaru like that?! Was he really meant to confuse all of us?! I mean apart from knowing, believing that Aqua is not *redacted* what about him? Is he? Is that it? Ugh this is giving me headache.

Goodness that's one crazy art. Mengo-sensei, I respect you.

Chapter 161 - Future

So since crow girl is the one doing the narration, does that mean that Hikaru is really just that plain asshole? That after all those flahbacks in 154, he is destined to actually kill his daughter? So that time at the temple, was he really planning to push Ruby? Like really? He has sank down that low? That after growing old without Ai, watching over their twins, his ultimate goal was to... harm them? I can't find the core in this character portrayal it's so difficult to comprehend Hikaru Kamiki's character 🤡

"You already have plenty of reasons to live"

Right?! I mean why did we have to resort to this?! Nino was taken care of. We could have dealt and handled Kamiki differently like see the light at the end of the tunnel or something I don't know it just doesn't add up this conclusion does not add up at all make it make senseeeeee at this point I'm just basically ranting hahaha

Chapter 162 - Aqua Hoshino

"I could've felt you more if I had killed Ruby"

I will never understand 💭

And why Aqua?! Why?! He suffered enough. Sacrificed enough. Felt guilty all his two lives and you give him this?! This was so unfair and how would you really think Ruby would feel after knowing that you sacrificed your life to protect her like really?! I don't understanddddddddd

"Thank goodness. This time..."

Are you even sane Aquamarine Hoshino?! Are we?!

Chapter 163 - You

For some reasons, I like that this chapter because once and for all, it made it black and white that Goro and Aqua are two different person. That Aqua has always been Aqua.

"Was this actually the wrong choice?"

Yes Aqua. So for the sake of our sanity would you please make good choices come on you're better than this. Also, crow girl he was asking a very valid question why would you answer him like that you're not helping at all what's the point of your existence all along?!

Why is this panel so reminiscent of that panel with Kana when she's telling Aqua that she'll curse at him and forget him in not time it's curious.

And why why whyyyyyyyy

Chapter 164 - Finale

"I want to live"

Then go ahead Aqua go on! Akasaka-sensei why do we even have to go through this?! If the gist is so that we could separate Goro and Aqua as two different individuals then yes we know they're different so can we now skip to the good part?!

This was so wrong. So unfair to everyone. To Aqua. To Ruby. To Kana. To Akane. To Miyako. To Ai! It was so unfair. And so poorly dealt with. So what are we trying to show here? That the world is cruel and unfair and not even fiction can save us? I am in utter shock like this was more dumfounding than Ai's death. Akasaka-sensei, really, what was the point?

[queenlilithprime]

NSFW Alphabet - Lilith Obergene

For the curious ones... (Reminder: Lilith is a self-insert but also not a 1-to-1 me. My friends can ship Lily with their charas but if we aren't friends please ask first!)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Extremely attentive, will get water, snacks, will clean their partner off… turn on a movie, give lots of affection and cuddling afterwards. They’ll always make sure to help their lover wind down especially after rough sessions.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On their body? Probably their tits, thighs, or ass, but if you want a real answer, their eyes. On your body? Hands, neck, thighs… ass...

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Doesn’t have much of a taste but it takes forever to get Lilith to climax!

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has a secret dacryphilia kink, likes the idea of their lover just absolutely ravaging them and making them unable to think.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

In most canons they are extremely experienced! In some however, like in the Camp Willowpeak universe, they are a virgin.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mating press, up against a wall… basically just fuckin wreck them <33

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Pretty serious! Can be lighthearted in some moments but does take sex more seriously.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

90% of the time they’re fully shaved, the other 10% they have a heart patch.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Most of the time that they have sex it’s not super intimate but Lily can be very romantic with someone that they have a relationship with.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Very often… almost too often…

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Sadism, Masochism, Bondage, BDSM, Breeding, Hair-pulling, Dacryphilia, Edging, Overstim, Begging (Especially being made to beg), Biting, Lingerie, Praise and Degradation, Playfighting, Oral, Facesitting, Choking, Voyeurism/Exhibitionism, Cock-warming, Rough Sex, Spanking, Shibari, Collaring, Cream-pies… you get the idea

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bed, Shower, Bent over a table, pretty much anywhere you can fuck them

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Sensual touches, affectionate words, showing sexual interest in them will definitely rev their engine

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Age-play! Gross-out Kinks! No Daddy kinks! Mommy kinks are fine. Nothing Anal </3 will peg partners but otherwise its a no-no

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

oral fixation go brrrr, prefers eating pussy over sucking dick but will absolutely give their penis-having partner head, and might make them lose their mind a lil, they’re good. Albeit if a little shy to be on the receiving end

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Tries to start out slow but once they get into the pleasure of it will want more and more until it’s a pretty steadily quick pace.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Likes them! Loves to take their time with partners but also enjoys the risk of being caught.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Most things are cool with them, outside of their no-no list they’ll try pretty much anything at least once

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Human: 13 hours Succubus: Infinite Vampire: 27 hours

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Any toy you can think of, they have. Tons of dildos, tons of vibrators, lots of bondage gear.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

1000000000% loves teasing on either end

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Soft breathy whimpers and moans, pretty quiet. Gets really flustered by dirty talk.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Can be the most sadistic dom you’ve ever met or the most pathetic whiny sub ever.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

J-Cup tits, bigger ass, large thighs, small waist… Even when they aren’t a succubus in some worlds they still look like one lol

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Hypersexual

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

They stay awake long enough to get to the cuddles portion of aftercare. They’ll try to stay up if there’s a movie but will pass out shortly after.

[thisaintascenereviews]

All Time Low - Tell Me I’m Alive / The Forever Sessions, Vol 1

Out of all the pop-punk bands to pop up in the mid-00s, All Time Low is one of the few bands to have an everlasting career. These guys started off as a neon pop-punk band, but evolved into a pop-rock band in the late 00s and early 2010s, then to a more straightforward pop-punk band in the early 2010s, only to turn back into a pop-rock band by the decade’s end. Their last couple of albums have been really hard to read, because they’re seemingly at a crossroads in their career. They don’t know if they want to be a pop-rock band or a pop-punk band.

Personally, my favorite album of theirs is 2012’s Don’t Panic, although I’m sure many people would pick 2007’s debut, So Wrong, It’s Right, and that’s not a bad pick, either, considering it has their most iconic songs, but it’s an album that I think is rough in spots. Vocalist Alex Gaskarth doesn’t sound great on it, despite sounding just fine, but his voice wasn’t the powerhouse it eventually became, at least until the late 00s and early 2010s. The songwriting was still quite sharp, but it would get a lot better, both lyrically and musically speaking.

Hell, 2020’s Wake Up, Sunshine is a really solid pop-rock / pop-punk record that tried some new things, but also stayed true to their sound and felt like another return to form, even though Don’t Panic was their first return to form a decade earlier. 2023’s Tell Me I’m Alive is an album that I totally forgot about, both because I haven’t cared much about these guys in a long time, and because this album wasn’t received with open arms when it came out.

I didn’t see a lot of glowing praise for it, but I decided to go back and listen to it recently, because they just dropped a new album of some re-recorded hits, entitled The Forever Sessions, and it’s the first volume of these, but this first one has admittedly their biggest hits, and they’re from 2006 to 2009. I wanted to talk about both albums, albeit briefly, because these albums are interesting, although it’s not quite in the way they intended. Truthfully, Tell Me I’m Alive is a decent album, but it’s also nothing important or essential. You won’t get anything out of this, aside from some decent hooks and vocals, but that’s it. They really don’t know if they want to be a pop-punk or pop-rock band, and the album stays in that limbo, but it ends up not making much of an impression.

The Forever Sessions, however, is actually pretty good, despite being nothing amazing, but this is interesting, because there’s no doubt this was done to both capitalize on the emo nostalgia that’s been huge the last couple years, as well a a cash grab to fans that want to hear them perform these songs live, because they can have studio versions of these updated versions. On one hand, though, I think it’s cool to hear a new version of an old classic, because art is ever hanging and ever evolving, so there’s nothing wrong with a new interpretation of an old song or album, even when it’s clearly done for a profit.

The thing is, though, I also can’t deny when it works. They don’t do much with these songs, but if anything, they have a modern production sheen over them, so they sound better, and Gaskarth’s vocals sound a lot better. Despite their popularity kind of waning over the last decade, at least he sounds fantastic, both on here and Tell Me I’m Alive. As boring as that album is, his vocals are awesome, and you can’t deny that he’s grown into one of the vocalists in that scene. The songs stay relatively the same on The Forever Sessions, but it’s still cool hearing them in a new light, even if their new album really isn’t anything to write home about.

[enterpris]

An Education in Attraction, Chapter 5

Pairing: Reader x Gojo

Summary: It's spring when you start your Master's degree. As the flowers and leaves unfold, so too do your feeling for Gojo

Warnings: Light swearing (1x)

Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4

Ao3: PlaidSparrow

After class on Wednesday, you walk with Kuzume and Saito across the campus.

“I think we should try the Gyudon Restaurant this weekend,” you say. It had just opened and one of the other teachers at the Eikaiwa school had raved about it to you last week.

“Ooo and then we can go out for drinks after!” You’ve learned that Kuzume subscribes to a ‘work hard, play hard’ mentality about the trials of grad school. 

“Could you make it after your lesson?” Saito asks as the three of you cross the street.

Instead of another session in the library, your group wanders into the botanic gardens and settles near some hydrangea shrubs just putting their buds out. The spot is further in, where you can just barely see the path and pond through the greenery. The May sun is a gentle caress, warm and sweet on your face, and a soft breeze leaves ripples in its wake on the surface of the pond.

“I can make it for dinner, as long as we don’t stay out too late,” you say. “I haven’t started next week’s reading yet.”

"The next chapter is so long," Kuzume huffs, "and it's being assigned with two other sections! They could at least schedule them one by one."

"And there's more in Learning Theories," Saito adds. 

“Shit, I almost forgot about that. There’s so much to do.” 

You sigh. You're still getting back into the rhythm of being a student again, and even with your days planned out, it’s easy to get worn out. Between the sheer volume of reading assigned and planning lessons for your own students, each day is a little overwhelming. 

Kuzume leans back on her elbows and looks up at the foliage. “Maybe I should have stuck with just playing the guitar. I am not looking forward to all the music theory assignments I’ll have to grade.”

“All subjects have tons of grading,” Saito waves her hand. “At least you’ll have some practical learning to break things up. I’ll be scoring essays forever.”

“I think lesson planning takes way longer than grading. But at least you can recycle some lessons,” you say.

“That’s true.” Saito runs her fingers through the soft grass in front of her. "At least there's no group work in Learning Theories. I can’t believe the professors assign such a large Curriculum project in our first term-"

Kuzume gasps. "I haven't even asked you yet!" She faces you and stares at you intently. "How are things going with Gojo?"

“Um,” You're not entirely sure how to answer that question. Both of the times you’d worked together outside of class Gojo had acted rudely, but you’re hesitant to say so. Even though he was the one acting poorly, it would be embarrassing to admit how he’d treated you. In class on Monday and Tuesday you’d resolutely ignored him, and you had resolved to work solo as much as possible to avoid any further insult. You look down at the grass to buy yourself a couple seconds to think.

 "He hasn’t really wanted to talk much. It hasn’t been going as well as I’d hoped." 

Saito's eyebrows raise. "Really?"

“Yea, he was honestly pretty rude the last time we met. He went out of his way to question my abilities and to tell me he’s finished two Master's already.”

"That’s awful! You wouldn’t think he’d need to show off with all he’s done.” 

"What else has he done?" You ask. 

“Maybe he just has a big head. I mean, if I was that gorgeous and smart too, I would be unstoppable,” Kuzume cuts in and laughs as the dappled sun falls on her face.

Saito answers your question. “He’s published a few papers and scientific studies. Gojo’s work is supposed to be pretty experimental and exciting, at least that’s what my father says. He’s a professor in the Physics department of the University and raves about Gojo’s work.”

Both girls are looking at you curiously now, and Kuzume's eyes shine as she leans towards you. They both seem to know a lot about him, and you feel behind. 

“His whole family are famous doctors and scientists. They’ve won awards and some have studied here. I think the University has a hall or something named in their honor.” Kuzume says. 

"Oh." You had no idea he'd done so much. You stare out through the branches at the water and reflect on what you know about him- admittedly it’s not a lot. He’s been aloof in your meetings and you haven’t really talked to him about anything outside academics.

“I didn’t know any of that,” you finish lamely. 

Kuzume and Saito look at each other. You are behind. The sun suddenly feels too warm on your face. A bird caws in the background and you hear another group of students walking past on the path- everything is grating on your nerves. 

“He’s just got a big reputation. He’s spoken on campus and at some of the other nearby universities in the past.” Saito says.

This is a lot to take in. You’d honestly figured Gojo just didn’t want to be paired with you, but if his academic prowess is common knowledge on campus, perhaps he wouldn’t want to be paired with anyone. Maybe he thinks I’m going to make him do all the work. You remember all of the fuss the first day of classes and things click.

“Wait, just how well known is he? Is that why people acted so wild on the first day?” If he’s getting hounded all the time or receives whispers every time he enters a room, you can see why he wouldn’t want to spend much time socializing. 

“Umm, well he’s pretty well known on campus. He completed one of his prior graduate programs here, so a lot of the professors are familiar with him.” Saito says. 

“And you’ve seen how handsome he is, so a lot of students know him too. He’s got kind of a reputation for being standoffish, but I was hoping you’d be able to get close to him with the project.” Kuzume frowns down at the grass.  

“God.” You lay back on the grass. At least you know more about your partner now- it should make working with him the rest of the term easier.

“No wonder he acts so weird.”

Kuzume and Saito laugh at that and the conversation drifts back to schoolwork. The workload of this particular program is more than any of you were really expecting, but the two girls beside you have made planning and studying bearable. You’re listening to your friends' complaints, but Gojo sits in the back of your mind like an itch you can’t quite reach. 

~*~

By the end of the week you are very ready for a break. 

You wake and go over your mental checklist for the weekend as you change and get ready. You’ve got to: finish another paper for Curriculum Design, read two more chapters in your Learning Theories class, and do an afternoon shift at the Eikaiwa school on Saturday. Sunday you've intentionally left unscheduled, hoping to catch some tv and let your brain rest. 

You trudge to class and gingerly slide into your usual seat next to Kuzume. Outside of the trip to the botanic gardens, you had reviewed course notes with her and Saito twice in the last week to keep abreast of all the assignments. She offers you a weak smile and you nod. You’re not the only one feeling drained from the weight of grad school responsibilities. 

Your professor enters and starts the lecture- today you’ll have a class discussion on workload expectations during the summer. It feels like an enormous topic to tackle on a Friday, and you hold in a sigh. 

Although there is a palpable tiredness in the room that wasn’t there at the beginning of the term, as you survey the room your classmates appear to be fully engaged in the professor’s description as she sets up the discussion. Gojo always seems to stand out. Besides his striking black outfits and ever-present shades, you've noticed he doesn't participate in class like your peers. He only shares if it's required, and neither lectures nor discussions seem to engage him. Not that you've been paying him any special attention.

You have noticed that he misses class a lot though. Besides being absent from half the first week, he's been gone from at least a class period the past two weeks as well. You're curious about how it will affect your project, even if you’re not writing with Gojo regularly. Usually schools don't allow this many absences. 

The professor concludes her introduction and gestures for the students of the class to share their experiences with summer homework. 

While extensive projects and assignments are commonplace during the short summer break in the Japanese school year, you rarely had anything to do over the summer except explore the neighborhood with your friends and wake up at 11am. Maybe you had a reading assignment due over the summer in high school, but it wasn’t really comparable to the in-depth learning common in the Japanese education system.

You’re likely the only one in the room who didn’t complete their high school in Japan.

Thankfully, your professor started on the opposite side of the classroom, so you have time to think. You comb your mind, trying to recall if there was ever a big, time intensive project you had to complete between grades. You're coming up blank. 

The first class you taught when you moved to Japan was during the summer. It's been years since you worked with that group, but you try to remember what students had said about their homework assignments. There had been complaints about book reports and worksheets. 

The man to your right just finished sharing his experience. You didn’t hear a word that he said and worse, you don’t have anything prepared for what you should say. The attention of the room has shifted to you already, so you’ll have to give it your best go. 

“Um, I don’t have personal experience with summer assignments. They aren’t very common in the United States between grades. Some parents do homeschooling, but most American students kind of take the summer off. It’s more play time than academic.”

Heat floods your cheeks. You can’t help but feel you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of the whole class. You swallow and turn to give your attention to Kuzume. She meets your eyes and gives you a small smile. It feels more like a lifeline. Her answer is an elegant recollection about a research project she completed in her third year of high school. 

The other students in the room finish sharing and your professor dives into details of the different kinds of assignments. You take some notes and resolve to ask Kuzume or Saito more about their experiences. The three of you had gotten close in these last few weeks.

Your mind is working, thinking about how else you can learn more about traditional summer assignments. You don’t even notice that Gojo’s gaze is stuck intently on you.

[snake-inmydaffodils]

This was too tumblr coded not to post.

[bookwyrminspiration]

also revisiting. GALEN AND QOWN???? was NOT expecting that turn but bro look at them (looks at them with the utmost tenderness) how are they so sweet. how does that even happen. i am so happy for them *blasting them with the joy of a thousand suns* i just like. OUGH. and getting to see GALEN first of all i really did forget about thaena for a hot minute in the first half of the memory of souls but getting to see him this ENTIRE BOOK was a fucking TREAT and to see him grown, or just free, and happy, and in a lavender marriage (but also just like the platonic marriage, the sheer care between him and sheloran is so beautiful) and just thriving in what he wants and what his wife wants and being able to actually love someone romantically so hard that it makes him vulnerable. it was SO gorgeous SUCH a solid character and then QOWN CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT! discovering that he is fucking!!!! worthy of love and care and someone who will remind him to eat and care enough to make sure that he Can eat and people who respect his fucking boundaries!!!! that scene when caless (i can't remember her mortal name haha. the high lady d'talus) was like you should have told me to go fuck myself for calling you ugly and changing everything about you. who did this to you that you don't even bother to give a shit? ohhhh man. when i tell you the sheloran scene after vol karoth pulled galen out of the lighthouse made me cry i am so so serious i was sobbing right along with qown. i think all of the other things about this book were beautiful but also a thing i could have expected to happen whereas the qown and galen arc absolutely threw me for a loop emotion wise as in: despite starting this out realizing quickly it was going to be a therapy session for the characters i was not expecting there to be something about self love and acceptance in here that was just. so genuinely soft. obviously there is hurt and fear and so much pain but the two of them are so gentle with each other, yk??? also i (like janel) assumed qown was old and going to be a side character forever! glad to know this was not the case ESPECIALLY when it brought us this

Neither was I! Like you, i thought that when we left Galen in book 1 that we'd never see him again, but lo and behold he's actually got quite the role to play! Was bursting at the seams trying not to say anything when you mentioned being sad we'd probably never see him again.

We knew from book 1 Galen was queer, but was not expecting religious man who's life has fallen apart has internalized homophobia and faces it to chase his happiness. I made a post when reading this book that Qown desperately needed a hug and I stand by that statement. He is such a wet rag of a man for a hot minute there. He really is put through the works emotionally. And it's both adorable and heartbreaking how oblivious he was to all of Galen's flirting and attempts to win his heart.

And Galen and Sheloran! When she was first introduced I thought she'd be an unimportant mentioned-once character (likely because of what Senera noted, which was that Thurvishar edited her role in his first volume to protect her), so I was quite surprised to see her here. But I adore her so. Her passion, her charm, her positivity, her drive. Her and Galen's friendship is so touching, I'm so glad they found each other. The only two good royals in the world <3

And that Caless scene...man. A little obvious in it's "hey look at what this implies about Qown and his self-worth" but I appreciate it because I very well might have overlooked that the first time otherwise. He was just so lost and so confused and so used. His entire life was a lie and all he wanted was to make it better, and Relos Var promised a way. He wanted so badly for that to be real

Qown and Galen are so soft and tender with each other, they've both been so hurt for who they are but despite that they've found each other and been brave enough to risk it. Though really it was a phenomenally bad time to risk it making out in the mind of a quasi-dead god while under attack.

Another thing it highlights for me is how diverse the characters personalities are? Because Qown's mental voice and perception is so different from how everyone else functions--you'd never imagine janel thinking anything like this, for example. So as heartbreaking as it is to see what he thinks, at the same time I'm nodding in appreciation at the variation in character voices

[sometransgal]

If you still want to do the spotify wrapped thing, do the Fibonacci numbers: 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89 (of course leave out any you’ve already done)

Well I've already done 1-5 so I'll start from 8

8.

13.

21.

34.

55.

89.

[socialmedia987]

Pre Wedding Photoshoot Dress | Your Ultimate Guide Perfect Look

A pre-wedding photoshoot is a cherished moment for couples to capture their love before the big day. The pre wedding photoshoot dress plays a crucial role in creating stunning visuals that you will treasure forever. Whether you're a bride-to-be or a groom, choosing the right dress for your pre wedding photoshoot is an exciting yet challenging task. The right outfit not only enhances your appearance but also sets the mood for your photos. In this article, we’ll guide you through how to select the perfect pre wedding photoshoot dress that matches your style and makes you feel fabulous.

What is a Pre Wedding Photoshoot Dress?

A pre wedding photoshoot dress is specifically chosen for your engagement or pre-wedding photo session. These photos are often taken months before the wedding and serve as a way to capture the couple’s love, excitement, and personalities. Unlike wedding dresses, which are typically more formal and bridal, a pre wedding photoshoot dress can be more relaxed, stylish, and reflective of your personality as a couple.

Why is Choosing the Right Pre Wedding Photoshoot Dress Important?

Sets the Tone for Your Photos: The pre wedding photoshoot dress you choose sets the overall vibe of your photo session. Whether you’re going for a romantic, casual, or luxurious feel, your outfit speaks volumes about the kind of memories you want to capture.

Comfort and Confidence: It’s essential to feel comfortable in your pre wedding photoshoot dress. When you're comfortable, you'll look more relaxed, and that natural charm will show in your photos.

Styling Flexibility: With the right pre wedding photoshoot dress, you can style your photos in multiple ways. You may want to try different looks, colours, and accessories to give your photoshoot variety.

How to Choose the Best Pre Wedding Photoshoot Dress

Choosing a pre wedding photoshoot dress involves considering factors like location, season, personal style, and budget. Below are some tips on how to find the perfect dress for your photoshoot.

1. Consider the Location of the Photoshoot

The location of your pre wedding photoshoot can significantly influence your dress choice. If you're shooting on the beach, for instance, flowy dresses in light, breathable fabrics like chiffon or silk may be ideal. On the other hand, if you're planning a photoshoot in an urban setting, a modern, sleek outfit might work best.

Outdoor Locations (Nature, Beach, Parks): Light, airy fabrics such as chiffon, tulle, and cotton work wonderfully. Long, flowy gowns or dresses will add a romantic, ethereal vibe to your photos.

Urban Locations (City Streets, Rooftops): Structured dresses or sharp, chic outfits such as jumpsuits or cocktail dresses are more fitting for an edgy or contemporary photoshoot.

Destination Weddings (Countryside, Castles, Exotic Locations): Consider classic and elegant pre wedding photoshoot dresses. Lace, satin, and silk are perfect for high-end photoshoots in a luxurious setting.

Reflect Your Personal Style

Whether you prefer modern, vintage, boho, or classic looks, there is a dress to suit every personality. This is your chance to showcase your style, so choose an outfit that you will feel confident and beautiful in.

Modern and Chic: Opt for sleek dresses with minimalist designs or bold colours. A midi dress or high-low dress can be perfect for contemporary photoshoots.

Vintage Style: If you love all things retro, a vintage-inspired pre wedding photoshoot dress, such as a tea-length gown or a lace dress with intricate details, may be ideal.

Bohemian Look: Flowing dresses with earthy tones, floral patterns, and loose fits exude a carefree, romantic vibe perfect for a boho-style photoshoot.

Choose the Right Color for Your Pre Wedding Photoshoot Dress

When selecting the colour of your pre wedding photoshoot dress, consider not just your personal preferences but also the season, location, and the mood you want to convey in your photos.

Neutral Tones: Light, neutral colours such as white, ivory, cream, or beige are timeless and elegant. These shades also look great in both outdoor and indoor photoshoots.

Pastel Shades: Soft pastel colours like blush pink, lavender, or mint green give a romantic and soft aesthetic to your pre wedding photoshoot.

Bold Colors: If you want your photos to stand out, vibrant colors like red, royal blue, or emerald green can make a striking impact, adding a sense of energy to the shoot.

Pay Attention to the Fit and Comfort of the Dress

Since pre-wedding photoshoots can last several hours, comfort is key. Choose a pre wedding photoshoot dress that fits well and allows you to move easily. Whether you're walking on the beach, dancing in a field, or posing in front of a cityscape, you'll want a dress that gives you freedom of movement.

Tailored Fit: If you want a sleek, sophisticated look, go for a pre wedding photoshoot dress with a tailored fit. This will ensure you look sharp and elegant in your photos.

Loose and Flowing: For a more relaxed and romantic look, opt for a loose, flowing dress. These kinds of dresses can create dreamy, whimsical images, especially in natural settings.

Consider the Season

The time of year can also influence your pre wedding photoshoot dress choice. Different seasons offer different opportunities for unique and stunning photos.

Spring: Light fabrics like chiffon, tulle, and cotton in soft pastel hues are ideal for spring photoshoots. The mild weather allows you to wear dresses that are both stylish and breathable.

Summer: Opt for airy, lightweight fabrics like linen and cotton that won’t overheat you under the sun. A sleeveless pre wedding photoshoot dress might be perfect for the warmer months.

Autumn: Fall colours like deep red, mustard, and rust can complement the vibrant autumn foliage. Think about adding layers or cardigans to your pre wedding photoshoot dress for a cozy, stylish look.

Winter: For a winter pre wedding photoshoot, choose rich fabrics like velvet, satin, or silk. A long-sleeve gown or dress with a luxurious shawl or fur stole can create an elegant, winter wonderland vibe.

Accessorize Your Pre Wedding Photoshoot Dress

Accessories can elevate your pre wedding photoshoot dress. From jewelers to shoes and hairpieces, the right accessories can transform a simple outfit into something spectacular. #Jewelry: Opti for delicate jewelry pieces such as dainty necklaces, sparkling earrings, or a statement bracelet to add subtle elegance to your outfit. # Shoes: Choose footwear that suits your location and dress style. For beach photoshoots, barefoot might be ideal, while heels or sandals work well for urban and formal photoshoots. # Veils or Hairpieces: A bridal veil, flower crown, or chic hair clip can add a touch of whimsy or elegance to your look, depending on the vibe you're going for.

Conclusion

Choosing the right pre wedding photoshoot dress is one of the most important steps in preparing for your engagement session. By considering factors like location, personal style, colour, comfort, and season, you can find the perfect outfit that complements your love story and enhances your photos. Remember, this is your moment, and the pre wedding photoshoot dress you choose should make you feel confident, beautiful, and ready to capture timeless memories that will last a lifetime.

A well-thought-out pre wedding photoshoot dress ensures that your photos are not only stunning but that they perfectly capture the essence of your relationship. So, take your time, plan ahead, and choose a dress that truly reflects your unique style and personality. Your pre wedding photoshoot is an exciting chapter in your wedding journey-make sure your dress plays a role in making it unforgettable.

[halojalex]

the party scene is gonna be 20 next year and the forever session was titled 'volume 1' so i wonder if that means they'll rerecord some songs from the party scene next year for its 20th anniversary