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reidsdimples · 6 months ago

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The Learning Game

Spencer Reid x gf!reader

18+❤️‍🔥MDNI ‼️

Inexperienced Spencer Reid (ssn 2) has his first sexual experience with you.

“It’s okay, we’ll take it slow,” you whisper to Spencer. He’s looking down at you with furrowed brows. His breathing’s hitches when you took on his tie, strands of hair falling over his glasses.

“I mean I know what to do I’m just…” he clears his throat when you toss his tie to the floor. He’s stammering over his words and he can’t think straight due to your hands on him. “I just want to touch you so bad,” he whispers so low you almost miss it.

You’re in his apartment, in his kitchen specifically where you two were just going to have some coffee. You had been dating for two months. You had experience, but not much and he had none.

You lace your fingers with his and lead him to the couch where you push him to sit, his button down now falling open. He sweeps his hair back and looks up at you. He’s unbelievably sexy like this, messy hair, breathing hard, eyes blown wide in anticipation, and his body… your pussy clenches.

You lean down and bring his hands up to your ass, he swallows hard. But he palms and squeezes at you through your thin shorts. The sensation of his hands there winds a knot in the pit of your stomach. You step closer, between his legs.

He burrows his head against your stomach, pushing your shirt up and pressing kisses on your skin. You run your fingers through his hair, reveling in the feeling of him groaning into the softness of your stomach.

“Is this okay?” He looks up at you as his hands trial under the hem of your shorts, right against your ass.

“Mhmm,” you bite your lip.

He digs his nails into your flesh, kneading into your ass with soft whimpers as he kisses your stomach. You sway in front of him as he follows his urge to spread your cheeks wide. You feel your arousal separate within your folds at the motion.

He runs his hands down the backs of your thighs and up your hips like he needs to take in the feeling of your creamy soft skin.

“Your hands feel so good on me baby,” you tell him.

You grab his hands and bring them up under your shirt until he’s cupping your breasts, your hands over his. He looks at you with his mouth partially open as he drags his tongue over his bottom lip.

You push him back and straddle him on the couch but he doesn’t release his needy hold of your breasts. You lift your shirt and discard it with a playful smile.

“Wow,” he whispers as he takes in the site of you before him.

You place your hands in his hair and lean forward.

“Go ahead,” you prompt him.

He gently kisses the swell of your breast, trailing down to your nipple where he can’t help but circle his tongue around the hardened peak. You let out a hushed moan for him until he brings his other hand up to your other breast. He plays with and pinches that nipple while he begins sucking on the one in his mouth. You throw your head back, fighting the urge to rock your hips against him.

“So good baby, you’re doing so good,” you praise him. You pull his hair hard enough for him to unlatch from your tit with a popping sound and he looks back up at you. He’s desperate, panting almost, with need. You’ve never seen this look in his eyes.

You kiss him hard, his strong arms wrap your frame and hugs you close. Your tongues push back and forth, sinfully stroking each other as you let your hips start to move.

You feel his erection through his slacks, pushing up against your pussy. There’s too many layers of clothes but he groans at the friction, a small whimpering into the kiss which drives you insane. He’s so sensitive to the smallest touch, twitching and writhing beneath you as you grind against him.

He’s a whimpering mess by the time you shift yourself back just enough to pull his cock free of his pants. He tries to read your reaction but he has no idea how perfect he is. The head of his cock is pronounced, his shaft longer than you would have expected and the girth… that’s going to stretch you out. You moan and bite your lip, pleased.

You look him in the eyes and grip his cock tight and then you start pumping it.

“Oh god,” he huffs and rolls his head back on the couch.

You can’t help yourself, watching him moan and revel in your touch literally takes you to your knees before him. You want to taste him, to make him feel good.

He looks down at you in awe, somehow shocked at what you’re about to do.

“Is this okay?” You bat your eyelashes up at your boyfriend who can barely speak.

“Please,” he begs.

You drag your tongue up his shaft, palming the other side of it in your grip. He sucks air through his teeth when you swirl your tongue around the tip. You taste his precum on your tongue, sweet. He furrows his eye brows and pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he watches you. Another hand pushes his hair out of his face.

“You’re such a good boy Spence,” you praise because it drives him crazy and then take his cock deep into your mouth.

The sound that escapes him is unrestricted, needy, and pitiful. You fucking love it and shove his head down the back of your throat until you’ve got every inch of him in your mouth.

You hum and gag around him, soaking his cock as you reel your head back up- pumping what isn’t in your mouth with your hand. He lets out a whimper through pursed lips as you hallow your cheeks and pay special attention to the head.

“So pretty,” he moans as he watches you. He nervously brings his hands into your hair. Pulling it back from your face as you bob up and down on him.

The apartment fills with lewd, sloppy sounds as you greedily please him. Every moan, every time he pulls your hair just eggs you on.

“Buck your hips, do what feels good baby,” you urge him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he reasons.

“You won’t,” you shake your head and take his cock in your mouth again. His silky smooth skin is sinful against your tongue.

After a moment he starts to meet your rhythm with his hips, shoving his cock into the back of your throat, keeping your head still with his hands. God he had no idea how fucking hot he was.

You open your mouth wider as he starts to rut into your throat, whimpering so prettily as he approaches his climax. You squeeze your eyes shut, tears from the face fucking slipping out, it’s amazing.

You want him to come so bad so you begin twisting your tongue around his length, even writing his name with your tongue as you bob up and down and stroke his cock all at once.

He can’t pump his hips anymore, he’s throwing his head back and groaning. Then he tenses.

“Ah!” He moans and you feel hot cum shooting into your mouth. The sweet and thick substance pours into your throat in ropes as his throbbing cock is emptied into it.

You moan and stroke his cock a few extra times to ensure you got it all. You run your tongue over the sensitive tip, taking the last drops of him. He watches with heavy eyes, spent.

“You did so good,” you climb back into his lap and kiss him.

At first he hesitates but gives in hungrily.

“I thought you wanted to have sex?” He asks.

“I do and we will soon,” you smirk. “I’m going to teach you everything.”

You’re so happy that the two of you have crossed this threshold. Next you’re going to teach him how you like to be touched and then you get to teach him how to fuck. You’re so excited.

“Thank you,” he whispers and kisses you again.

“Don’t thank me. You’re going to have to fight to keep me off of you now,” you joke and you both laugh.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #mgg #mgg pics #dr reid #spencer reid one shots #spicy spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut

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kanekisfavoritegf · 6 months ago

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PERFECT LOVER: The Life of Nanami Kento the 35 Year Old Virgin

MINORS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL GET BLOCKED

SYNOPSIS: Kento Nanami, a 35-year-old introvert with a tendency to avoid social interactions, has made a conscious decision to steer clear of romantic entanglements. However, everything changes when he meets a new colleague at his birthday party, (Satoru's Idea). From the moment they meet, he is mesmerized, finding himself increasingly unable to resist her magnetic presence. Like taking a bite of forbidden fruit, he becomes ensnared by the allure, delving into a realm of infatuation and finding himself unable to break free. As he delves deeper into this newfound connection, Nanami begins to realize that he craves more than just a fleeting experience and yearns for more than just a fleeting taste of what she embodies.

Table of Contents

WORD COUNT: 1.8K

Part 2 1/2 was added to the beginning! So if you have already read it, skip to where it says “TWO DAYS LATER.”

CHAPTER THREE:

The drive from Kento’s apartment was short enough to make you consider walking next time. If there was ever another situation in which you’d be leaving Kento’s apartment in the morning.

“And where the hell have you been?” You practically jumped out of your skin at the sound of Yuki’s voice. You turned around to meet her smug face from across the hall, smirking like she knew something you didn’t.

“Such a warm welcome from my favorite neighbor,” You quipped, unlocking your door.

“You were at Kenny’s, right?”

“Kenny? Who i– Oh! Kento. Yeah.”

Yuki followed in after you, her eyes lingering on the clothes you threw into the washer. It was only then that she realized you were wearing her university’s graphic tee. This might have been an ordinary occurrence any other day, but not when you spent the night at her old university friend and coworker’s house, especially not Nanami’s.

“You didn’t sleep with him, right?”

“No, of course not.”

“Good.” Yuki sighed.

“Good? Is he dating someone?” You felt your breath hold as you wondered aloud, only releasing it once answered.

“No, he doesn’t date.”

“Like at all?”

“Nope.”

“Is there a reason?”

“It's not my story to tell.” Yuki shook her head. “He is touchy about the subject.”

You only nodded.

“Not even casual hookups?”

“Hey! No.” You would have been offended at the harshness of Yuki’s voice if her expression of horror had not been so amusing, “He is off limits.”

“What do you mean?”

“He is the lonely virgin; one hookup with you, and you will ruin him.” It was a little surprising to hear Kento was still a virgin, but not because of his age, but his demeanour. The way he carried himself. Indeed, he must have had someone he wanted to be with that intimately; surely someone would want him so intimately, but then again, you only knew him for a few hours; who knows what he is actually like.

“You make it seem like I am some succubus.”

“You might as well be Y/N.”You only rolled your eyes at her. “Listen to me, Y/N,” Yuki’s hands cupped your face like a child needing grave warning. “You can not deflower poor Kento.”

“He isn’t a child.”

“I know, but–” Yuki lost the words on her tongue, knowing no explanation would do it justice. “Just don’t. He isn’t Satoru or Suguru. He is a decent man, and if you slept with him, hell, if you kissed him, it would lead to places I don’t think you’d want to go to.”

Yuki’s words still echoed in your head as you showered “hell if you kissed him, it would lead to places I don’t think you’d want to go to.” But it was already too late. Kento Nanami was undeniably curious about you, just as much as you to him.

TWO DAYS LATER

“Hello, Mr. Nanami! If I read my email correctly, you are supposed to be showing me around today.”

This was the first time Nanami had been caught off guard. For some reason, you stood in front of him in business attire, a skirt cut just above the knee, black stockings and a white dress shirt hidden beneath a black cardigan.

He stared down at you as you stood before him, a nervous smile painted on your face as he did so. His expression was even more blank than he had given you three days ago. It almost seemed like he was angry, but the more he stared at you quietly, you couldn’t help but feel as though he may have just forgotten you. And the very idea of Nanami forgetting you made you slightly (very much so) annoyed.

Was kissing strangers after housing them in his very nice, very clean apartment a common occurrence for him? Was walking around in shirts too tight around women clearly captivated by him an everyday experience for him???

Okay, you understood it wasn’t technically a kiss to be written in the history books and that it was you who kissed him. But that didn’t take away the feeling of aggravation snaking its way up your spine.

“I’m Y/N.” You stated.

“I know.” Was all he said in return, turning to his desk and logging into the company computer, leaving you standing there awkwardly as he faced his display screen.

You peered over his shoulder, letting a few braids dip down and lay across his chest as you watched him.

Nanami only let out a shaky breath as you did so, doing his best to ignore the heat that came off of your body as you pressed into him from behind. It didn’t help that you smelled like vanilla and chocolate; whatever perfume you wore was slowly snaking its way around his neck and choking him.

Choosing not to acknowledge your closeness, he focused on your name, typing it in slowly as he waited for an email mentioning you. When it failed, he then searched the word intern, and sure enough, it popped up. In his spam, a place where all emails specifically from Satoru Gojo were sent.

NANAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII, I need a huge favor: babysit the new hires and show them around the office. I missed the flight yesterday, so I’ll be back next week.

Thanks!!

Satoru.

“How does one miss a flight and choose to return in a week, not the next day?” You asked, a small giggle escaping you. Kento only shook his head, huffing slightly, before turning back around to face you.

“I’m Kento Nanami.”

“I knew that.” You replied shortly, and if Kento could kick himself in the knee, he would ten times over.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes,” he repeated bluntly. Stay here one moment. When I return, I will give you a tour of this department. I shouldn’t be over ten minutes.”

Before you could even respond, he had vanished, disappearing down a corridor and around a corner, leaving you standing there, slightly bewildered.

Kento silently cursed himself in the supply closet.

He was hiding.

In a closet.

Kento Nanami, the 35-year-old virgin, was hiding in a closet because a pretty woman smelled nice. It didn’t help that you had said his name the way you did.

Smooth and slow and utterly… normal. Kento knew he couldn’t blame all his perverted problems on the object of his desire, no matter how much he wished to.

He sighed heavily, knocking his head into the door in front of him before opening it and emerging once again into reality.

All he needed to do was keep himself calm and composed, not let his eyes drift to your lips, preferably avoid all eye contact, and not mention last weekend under any circumstances.

When he approached his desk again, you weren’t alone. Suguru stood over you as you leaned against his desk for support.

“Oh, it’s Mr. Nanami!” You pointed out, bringing Suguru’s attention to Kento as he approached you.

“Mr. Nanami?” Suguru smirked at you with a tilted head.

“Should I not call him that?” You panicked for all of 3 seconds before Nanami cut in.

“No, no. It is fine.” Letting out a shuddered breath, “Call me whatever you want.” A weak smile went with his words as he twisted to meet the other man.

“Don’t you have a meeting to be in? Where is Yuki?”

“She is already in there stalling. I thought I’d welcome the new hire once again since Satoru has decided to skip his duties. Geto shook his head at the thought of Satoru sipping on mimosas and eating fresh fruit instead of doing his job, his very well-paying job.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you anymore. We can grab lunch or something later!” You suggested before sliding your way to the blonde man. “And you.” Nanami held his breath as you pointed his way, “You owe me a tour.”

“That I do.” Kento said, throwing a tight smile at Geto, trying to mask the ridiculous feeling of jealousy that began blooming in his chest. All Geto gave back was a knowing smile, a smile that you and Kento alike mistook for one given to yourselves, adding to the tension in the room.

***

Walking through the office was probably one of the most awkward experiences of your life.

Whenever you tried to open a conversation, Kento quickly shut it down or stirred it toward work.

This would have been fine had he looked you in the eye at least once as he showed off every inch of the new environment.

“This is our break/rest room. A couch, blankets, pillows and noise-canceling earphones are stored away for when you need to sleep.”

“Ooo, that sounds amazing.” You peered inside since no one was currently rested.

“Yup. All you need to do is flip the card to the red side, lock the door, and then, for at least forty minutes, peace is yours.”

“We pull many all-nighters here as the marketing team; with such a small group, taking forty minutes to one-hour breaks is pretty common.”

“Do you often sleep here?”

“No,” was all he said as he glanced over you, making his way to the kitchen, assuming you’d be following behind him promptly.

With each passing second, your patience wore thinner, and you couldn’t help but huff in annoyance.

As you stood in the final room of the floor, Nanami continued to drone on about the new kettle and fridge space, practically facing the wall opposite you.

“What is your problem?” You snapped at him.

“Excuse me?”

“Why aren’t you looking at me.”

“I am looking at you.”

“I am not talking about now; I am talking about this whole tour, or better yet since I approached you this morning.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You won’t look at me.”

“Y/N–” Kento started.

“You can call me Miss L/N,” You corrected, “I was nervous at the idea of starting a new job in a higher position than before, especially with all of you guys, who already know each other so well, so to be shown around by someone I “knew” it gave me a little bit of comfort. But if this is a problem for Mr. Nanami, then I can wait for Sugu- Mr. Geto, or Yuki to show me around after their meeting. “

“No.”

“No?” You repeated back at him.

“I am sorry.”

“Okay???”

“I struggle talking with women.”

“And looking them in the eye?”

“Yes. To women I am attracted to, I struggle.” He now faced you fully, the tips of his ears burned bright red. You would have found this cute, had it not been utterly shocking.

Oh.

“It is ridiculous, I know, but I am trying to get it under control, so don’t worry about me. I am sorry if I have made you uncomfortable in any way.” And before you could respond, Nanami was back at his desk. Leaving you gobsmacked in the middle of the office Kitchen.

“Oh.” You whispered to no one, hand reaching out and touching your lips.

Preview...

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"CHAPTER FOUR" UPLOADED

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whumpster-fire · 3 months ago

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Yet another reason T. T. Sutherland is a coward and a fool for going "Peril has never been touched in battle before, the dragonflame cactus was her first time experiencing real pain" and I refuse to accept it as canon:

Cooler Headcanon: the reason Peril immediately had the idea of burning the venom out of Clay's wound when he got bitten by the Dragonbite Viper was because she's had to do that to herself after getting puncture wounds from sandwings that injected venom past the superheated layer of skin. It didn't do as much damage to her as it did to Clay because Peril's pretty much completely fireproof even under the skin, so the scars are pretty small and not that noticeable, but she does have a few.

The couple times she de-venomed herself during a battle were pretty much the most metal thing ever to happen in Scarlet's arena. A dragon getting an apparently mortal wound, jamming her claws right into the open wound, writhing on the sand in apparent death throes, and then after like a minute getting back up with "smoke" rising from her eyes and nose as well as the bloody, sizzling puncture, and proceeding to limp across the arena and utterly destroy her terrified opponent.

The dragons she was fighting didn't try to finish her off because they'd already severely burned their tail barbs and probably talons and wings doing it and weren't going to risk getting hurt even worse by a dying dragon. Then of course when their one hope of killing her turned out not to work they kind of lost the will to live.

This contributed significantly to Peril's reputation as an invincible monster, but on the other hand seeing the queen's champion curled in a fetal position, screaming, sobbing and obviously trying not to pass out, made some of the spectators present for those fights somewhat remember that this was a 2-3 year old dragonet being thrown in the arena with full grown adult enemy soldiers, which was pretty messed up even if the small child kept winning. These feelings of sympathy were often diminished a bit by what Peril did to her opponents afterward, but Queen Scarlet was still not pleased, and after it happened two or three times she got a supply of the antidote cactus for "if a guard accidentally gets gotten by a sandwing prisoner" purposes.

Ruby absolutely never saw this because she made a point of watching fights in the arena as little as possible, especially Peril's for obvious reasons.

On the other hand I just thought of the perfect explanation for why Carnelian was like "I wonder if she remembers me?" when Peril showed up at JMA instead of freaking out like most of the dragons there. At some point, early in her career as a child soldier before she ended up in Ruby's unit, she was working in the palace and got voluntold to help out during an incident when Peril got stabbed in the shoulder or something where she couldn't reach with her claws so somebody had to very carefully burn the venom out with a red hot nail and a pair of tongs. Carnelian's actual job was probably something like holding a bucket of water and pouring it on the spear haft a third dragon was holding Peril's wing closed with, but she met Peril in a vulnerable state when she wasn't trying to perform for the crowd, and also saw her trying really hard to avoid accidentally injuring anyone, which led to her being one of a small number of skywings who are capable of being normal about Peril.

#wings of fire #peril wof #carnelian wof

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tallulah477 · 2 months ago

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Soft Touches

⭒˚.⭒. 1K Follower Special .⭒.˚⭒

Pairing: Jake x Fem!Na'vi!Reader

Warnings: P in V, Fingering, Alien Genitalia, Soft Sex, Slight Tail Play, Creampie, Knotting, Finger sucking/Fingers in mouth, Slight Breeding Kink

Word Count: 4K

A/N: First fic in a while! Sorry its a little rusty.

A/N 2: For more about how I picture alien genitalia, see here.

Summary: You enjoy a nice lazy morning with your mate after a long night of celebration.

Translations:

Olo'eyktan - Clan Leader

Muntxate - Wife, female spouse

Ikran - Mountain banshee, dragon-like aerial predators

It’s mornings like these that remind you to take a breath.

The mornings when the village is mostly silent. When the normal hustle and bustle of early clan life is put on hold for just a moment, most others favoring the extra sleep and time alone with their loved ones after a long night of celebration before the reality of the day catches up to them and they need to re-enter the real world.

The celebration was one of new beginnings. The new life born from the couple who had been trying for a long time - new parents who you had seen almost give up hope in ever conceiving after years of nothing finally receiving Eywa’s blessing in the form of a beautiful baby boy. The People cheered and prayed for their new clan member as Jake formally introduced him to the world, holding the baby high above his head and shouting his name with pride as if the baby were his own.

You hope maybe one day soon, he’ll be able to do the same for your own child.

As the ceremony turned into food and food turned into dance, the night passed by in a flurry of blood thumping music and happy memories. Your mate is a vision in his Olo’eyktan garb - muscular shoulders made even more broad by the layered feathers proudly displayed on him. His beautiful face somehow made even more beautiful framed by the ornate headpiece that lays distinguished on his forehead. The multitude of necklaces and armbands that adorn him, dressed with colorful beading, intricate knots, and bones.

They’re symbols of respect. Symbols of honor.

You can’t wait to tear them off his body when you get home.

And so you do - following every instinct you have as you rip the badges of honor from him in a fierce display that has your Olo’eyktan practically shaking in excitement and grinning that adorably goofy smile of his as he leans back against your shared woven mat, hands folded comfortably behind his head as he lets you ravage him to your heart’s delight.

Your lovemaking is rough. Passionate. The perfect blend of ‘I love you, baby. Now fuck me like you don’t’. It’s the kind of intimacy that makes you feel alive. It’s exciting and fun, quick and intensely satisfying as you both greedily chase that pleasure that you know only the other can provide.

“Fucked your brains out,” Jake jokes afterwards, and you resist the urge to smack him - too satisfied and gooey in the glow of the aftermath that you can’t even bring yourself to move to make the hit.

You think he knows that, which is probably why he said it.

You don’t dream, and sometimes that’s better than even the best dreams. There’s nothing to keep your mind working, no other life to live in another world and nothing to bring your deepest fears or greatest dreams to life. It’s just silence. Pure rest and energy replenishment. You wake up feeling refreshed - calm and serene.

Like the rest of the world is miles away and it’s just you and the love of your life together alone, away from all responsibility and the demands life brings.

Mornings like this are easy.

Soft light just barely making it into the hut, just enough to light up everything around you, but not enough that you couldn’t easily fall back asleep if you wanted to. Jake’s arms are a warm blanket around you, keeping you close and safe and protected even in sleep. The consistent puffs of breath on your neck from where his face is pressed close to you is soothing in a way you can’t even begin to describe. You could lay here all day, wrapped up in the warmth of his body and the unassuming fuzziness of almost sleep blurring at the edges of your vision.

There’s no worries right now, no concern or to-do’s or looming tasks that are faring for your attention.

It’s just him and you. Even if for only right now.

Your fingers subconsciously trace along Jake’s forearm, the tips dragging a lazy back and forth pattern along the smooth skin. He fits behind you perfectly, muscular body curling around yours like it was built to fit against yours. You think maybe it was. Eywa may not have been his maker, the body he is in now was once human-made. But despite not being his maker, she is his Mother - and you know just as well as any other Na’vi how the Great Mother can perform miracles.

She made him for you somehow. Just for you.

Your fingers continue their featherlight touches on his arm and they’re more deliberate now as your tail curls around the back of Jake’s leg so the soft tuft of hair at the end can tickle along the back of his knee. The light touches are guaranteed to wake him up. He showers you in a strong gentleness, granting you the light and soft touches that you love so much exactly when you need them, but he prefers a firmer touch. The softer touches drive him insane after a while and he’ll often grab your hand and push it harder against his skin to starve off the sensation or even drag your nails across the spot to get rid of the itch.

You’re a menace, purposefully teasing him with light touches just to see him react the way he does. Just because it's a soft and peaceful morning doesn’t mean you’ll show him reprieve.

The tightness in your core says you want him, so he needs to wake up. Just the feel of his body pressing against yours and the rhythmic puffs of breath on the back of your neck is sending pleasant tingles down your spine. The warmth of his body heat turns into a different kind of warmth that swells in your stomach and settles between your thighs.

You can feel him start to stir behind you, the puffs of breath becoming harsher as his arm and leg twitch against your lovingly mean touches. Your body tenses in excitement when you feel the sharp teeth press against the nape of your neck and the low growl he lets out reverberates through your entire body.

“What have I said about the touching, baby?”

“Firm strokes,” You grin before adding on a smug, “Everywhere.”

Jake hums against you, teeth still a clear warning against the back of your neck and they dig in just a little harder at your cheeky answer.

“That’s right,” He says against your skin. “So why is my mate being bad on this very nice morning?”

“Wanted you to wake up,” You breathe.

Your tail flicks at the back of his knee again and you let out an excited laugh when he pulls his arm away from your tickling fingers to snatch your tail. He jerks it swiftly in reprimand, not hard enough to actually hurt but just enough for you to feel the sharp pull of it and the sensation shoots right down to your center.

“Wake up for what?” He asks, but you can hear the responding grin in his voice.

You arch your back, pressing your ass against his bare front just to drive the point home. His cock is still sheltered in its protective sheath, but the action is clear anyway. “You know for what,”

The move does its job and your Jake is significantly riled up in an instant. He presses his front harder against your back, rolling you slightly forward to better gain leverage against you. The muscular arm you’re using as a pillow shifts so that his hand can reach down and cup your breast, squeezing the soft flesh in his large hand. The other hand slides across your hip, the tip of your tail still caught in the loose ring of his thumb and pointer finger as he drags it with him between your thighs.

He keeps it trapped there as his middle finger runs across your slick slit, sliding up and down the length of your pussy with the lightest of touches. The tuft of hair on your tail sticks together as Jake drags it with him and a part of you wants to yell at him, mortified at the idea of your own tail becoming dirtied by your own sticky mess. But the feeling of the soft hair sliding across your needy slit makes you even more desperate and the control that he shows he has over you as he uses your own hair tuft on your tail to help him tease you makes you whimper.

“Ma Jake,” You squirm. You tilt your hips trying to get him to touch you better - push a little harder, slide a finger inside, touch your clit, something. But he doesn’t budge. Just continues his teasing as he nips his sharp teeth at your ear.

“Hm, what’s wrong, babygirl?” He mocks. “I thought you liked soft touches.”

Since he moved, your hands had been clutching the wrist of the hand caressing your breast. Now, you pull one away from its resting place to grab the hand between your thighs trying to manipulate his fingers into moving to the places you want them to. The inside of your palm brushes against the sticky strands of hair as Jake makes it brush over your clit and your tail jerks in response as your body inadvertently tries to tug it away, but Jake keeps it hostage between his skilled fingers. The fine hairs leave silky lines of wetness against your palm.

“Please,” You whine and your fingers press against his middle finger, forcing it to slip between your wet lips. “Be nice to your muntxate.”

“Yeah?” Jake grumbles. “After you were just so nice to me?”

A part of you wants him to continue to drag this out. You like the tease. The way the barely there touches are nowhere near enough to get you to where you want to be but the tortuous featherlight brush of fingers makes you wetter than direct and firm touches would. Jake knows how to play with you, knows how to work you up to near madness with barely even lifting a finger. He touches the right spots - gentle brushes against the length of your pussy, caressing along the sides and down the slit, dipping in enough just to be able to slide across your hole that clenches with need from every new ‘not touch’. Sometimes his fingers would nudge against your clit, just enough to make you jump as a shock of pleasure shoots into your belly at the place you most want him to touch finally getting some attention, even if for only one fleeting second.

“I’m always nice to you,” You breathe.

“Oh, yeah?” Jake laughs, knowing disbelief coloring the beautiful sound and you can’t help the cheeky grin that pulls at your lips in return. “You’re always nice to me, huh?

“Mhm,” You agree. You lean your head back so your cheek can rub against Jake’s. “The nicest and most perfect mate ever.”

“Hm,” Jake hums and your breathing hitches as when his fingers slide more purposefully towards your dripping hole. “Yeah, you’ve never been a pain in my ass for a single second, have you?”

Your tail lashes out behind you when Jake loosens his grip on it in favor of sinking his long fingers inside you. It smacks against Jake’s thigh a few times and distantly you hope that it leaves a wet spot there too as payback, but the thought is so removed from your brain right now that it hardly even registers at all. His fingers slide into you so perfectly, the size of two of them sinking into your cunt begins to stretch you out so well. Compared to the actual size of him, it's not enough to fully prepare you. But you can feel where his cock has come out to play behind you, already hard and wet from the slick of its protective sheath as it pokes at the curve of your ass.

“You’ve just always been my good girl,”

His words are sweet, the urge to nod and agree that yes, yes you have always been his good girl is so strong as his fingers fill you up, but you know better than anyone how the edge of sarcasm in his words ring true. When you first met Jake, you had been hostile. Furious with your best friend when she had saved him in the forest and furious even more when she begged for your help to train him in the ways of The People when her father had instructed her to take on the task of babysitter. It makes you laugh now to think back on those months. Neytiri wasn’t nice by any means, but she had quickly developed a fond friendship with the dreamwalker despite her early aggression. And even though you hissed at him, smacked him instead of guiding him into place when learning to shoot a bow and arrow and use a knife, and called him every insult you knew straight to his face while fully taking advantage of the fact that he was still learning Na’vi - you had grown to be quite fond of him too.

The differences you had once held against him were now things to be cherished. The five fingers that once made you nervous, too associated with the demons that had come and killed people that you cared about and tried to destroy your home, were a symbol of his loyalty to you and The People. He chose you - chose to be with you and give his loyalty to you and Eywa and the rest of the clan over the species he was born as, and you take pride in seeing that fifth finger on his hand, playing with it lovingly between your own fingers, and knowing what it symbolizes to you. Made a human but created by the Great Mother: different, but still Na’vi.

But you are a warrior - fierce and focused, courageous and determined. Maybe a little aggressive. Stubborn. So maybe you’re not always as nice as you could be. The fondness grown from spending the time of getting to know Jake and the unavoidable blessing of love that came after couldn’t have stopped the aspects of your personality and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you were always a patient, kind, and understanding bundle of joy. You argue and expect things, fierce in your opinions and beliefs just as fierce as you love.

You would never have found a worthy match with someone else in the clan. No one else could have ever handled you the way Jake can. No one else would have ever loved you as much as Jake does.

You’re a pain in his ass - on him from the start if he’s wrong about something, making a bad call or the wrong decision, and you push him to be better as a good mate should. Direct communication. No sugar-coating things. Jake can handle it and you hate it in the moment, but you’re grateful that you can say he returns the favor too.

“My perfect mate,” Jake agrees and your tail shakes with excitement as he digs his fingers in deeper.

You’re so wet already, slick pooling between your thighs as you spread them more to give him a little more space for his hand. The hand on your breast clings to it, not letting go or loosening its grip for a second as he squeezes at your chest. His clever fingers form a cage around your nipple that pinches the hard bud between his third and fourth finger with each squeeze, and the sharp pang of pleasure that courses through your body from the stimulation drives you to grind down on the hand between your thighs even harder.

His fingers feel so good inside you, stretching you and thrusting as deep as they can go as you leak around them. He knows all your good spots, fingertips curling and rubbing against your slick walls as he torments the spots he can reach in his position and rakes the tips of his fangs on the back of your neck to make up for the ones he can’t. Your hand is still laying on top of his, moving with it as if it’s guiding its movements. Jake lets you keep it there. He knows you like to act like you’re in control sometimes.

The thick head of his cock pokes at your ass, sliding against the curve of it and your hand finally leaves the top of his to reach behind you. Your hand curls around his length, stroking gently and feeling each textured bump and barb rub against your fingertips. His fingers are good, magical even. But even in the soft morning glow when things are quiet and you should be satisfied, it’s still not enough.

“Ma Jake, please?”

He chuckles. “You’re so polite when you want something,”

You grin. “Don’t make me be mean,”

Jake shifts his hips harder against your ass, somehow shoving his fingers deeper inside you as he rubs his cheek against yours, lips pressing just off to the side of your own in a quick kiss. “Yeah, wouldn’t want you to be mean, would we?”

The joking tone is there again. The humorous sarcasm. Jake likes you when you're sweet and pliant - it's a rarity that he likes to enjoy in the odd moments that it comes like this one. But he loves it when you're mean.

He doesn’t let you respond, instead choosing to be nice and halting the sweet torment of his fingers in your cunt and replacing them with the blunt press of his cock at your entrance. Your body mourns the loss of his fingers when he pulls them from between your legs, but you do well to push the feeling down when he hooks his hand under your knee and bends your leg up, spreading you more to give him easier access to push his cock inside.

Your eyes flutter shut in bliss as his length spears you open, stretching you and filling you up the way you know only he can. You can feel every delicious raised bump on his cock as he slides into you and you squeeze down on him, reveling in the way the texture scrapes against your slick walls.

Sometimes you wonder what it would have been like to be like this with him in his human body. Wheelchair and paralyzing spinal injury aside - you still imagine him standing straight, as tall as he can be, and staring at you with that daring, cocky, fearless expression of his - smirking and ready to tame you just as he had tamed his ikran.

He’d be so much smaller than you. Your hand easily encompassing the entire side of his head as you pulled him in for a kiss, and the agitation you might feel at having to wait even for the few seconds it takes for him to pull off his breathing mask. He’d be smaller down there too. The thought makes you giggle a little. It’s a shame really - because the idea of trying the human version of him, despite your pretenses, is very appealing. Smaller human Jake is still your Jake, no matter what body he is in.

How would it feel? There would be no barbs or added texture for stimulation, no extra slick other than a small amount of precum to make taking it any easier. No knot to lock you in and keep you close afterwards.

How would it feel encased snugly inside your walls? It would be smooth, right? Save for maybe a vein here and there. He’s told you before that a human’s genitalia hangs outside the body, balls included. You think that’s rather interesting. Stupid - but interesting. A flawed design in a species that mostly considers itself perfect. But what would that feel like? You can picture what you think that would be like - Jake’s own swinging, unprotected, with each thrust. Would they slap against your ass as he fucks you? Could they hit your clit if you make him fuck you with you on all fours?

You’d never ask him. Your pride would never let you. But sometimes, you think about it and wonder. The desire to try something you know you never can and to do it with the only person you would ever want to try it with.

The first retreat of him pulling back and then the slow and dragging slide of him pushing back into you makes sure to clear that lingering thought out of your mind. What could you possibly want that for when you have this right here?

Perfect, passionate, intimate, and completely yours.

His lips are at your ear, panting breath fanning at the curve of it as he murmurs to you about how tight you are and how good you feel around him. Like a perfect sleeve made just for my cock, he tells you, and groans when the words make you clench around him like a vice.

Jake’s hand lets go of your knee to reach around your front again, fingers finding the sensitive bud between your thighs. Your clit throbs under his touch and there’s people around you in the nearby huts - families who can definitely hear you if you get too loud. And even though sex is not taboo among the Na’vi like you’ve learned it is among many humans, it's still early on a morning post celebration and people are sleeping. You don’t think Weim, Tsuakir, and their young daughter, Iski, would appreciate getting woken up by the pleasured mewling cries of their Olo’eyktan’s mate before it’s time for them to rise.

You get out one loud moan before Jake is pulling his hand from your breast and shoving his fingers in your mouth.

“Shhh, babygirl,” Jake whispers. “Can’t keep you all to myself if you wake up the whole damn village.”

A part of you wants to bite at the fingers in your mouth, the urge to rebel in any way you can against Jake’s slight increase in control over you, but they work too well - long digits pressing into the sides of your cheek and against your tongue just enough to keep you quiet. His other hand is drawing swirls around your clit, using the combined wetness of both of your slicks to make it nice and slippery.

The knot on the base of his cock is swelling, pushing and pulling at the rim of your entrance with each rhythmic rock of his hips, and you suck eagerly at Jake’s fingers in your mouth as your body molds to each stretch and give. Jake’s voice is in your ear, gravely and deep as he groans about how he’s going to tie you to him, keep you locked on his cock and fill you up until your belly swells.

“Maybe next time it will be us up there introducing our kid to the clan,” He grunts, nipping your ear with his sharp teeth. You moan, eyes fluttering as his thrusts speed up, the wet sounds of skin on skin and his voice filling your ear is all you can hear in the small hut. “Would you like that, baby?”

The swollen knot catches on your rim, pushing inside with a pointed snap of Jake’s hips, and you gasp when it slips inside you, stretching you to what you always feel are your limits but your body welcomes him willingly. The shock of his knot locking inside you and the insistent circles on your clit trigger your orgasm, and you cum to the warmth of Jake’s own release painting your insides as you clench around him, pleasure crashing through your body and leaving you feeling all the more fuzzy and weightless in the soft morning glow filling the hut than how you woke.

Jake’s arms cuddle around you, his head laying on top of yours as you both bask in the afterglow. The village is starting to come back to life around you, sounds of children playing and the usual hustle and bustle of clan life making its way through the entrance of your home. Soon, you’ll have to leave the safety and closeness of Jake’s loving hold.

But not right now - you still have some time left.

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#𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✎#jake sully smut #jake sully x reader smut #jake sully x fem!reader smut #jake sully x fem!navi!reader smut

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kitasgloves · 4 months ago

Note

if you're writing more of your 'comforting your insecure boyfriend' series maybe I suggest Hinata and Yamaguchi? My boys deserve it.

comforting your insecure bf

part 1 . part 2 . part 3

— ♬ NSFW, MINORS DNI, gn reader, based on this post

— ♬ omg i'm sorry this was late anon i was in a deppression but this brought me back to life. and yes, our boys deserve some comforting too ;)

— ♬ Hinata Shoyo

You and Hinata Shoyo go way back in high school. You and he were from different schools and had a fateful encounter during training camp in his second year. You were already in your third year when you met him. You were the kindhearted and quiet manager from one of the rival teams. What captured Hinata's interest was initially your looks, he might be exaggerating if he said you're the most ethereal person he has ever met.

You had glistening bright eyes, a lovely smile, and a melodic laugh. Not to mention, you happened to be taller than him! Your personality was in contrast to his. You were calm and collected, preferred to listen than talk, and genuinely enjoyed quiet moments. Unlike Hinata, who was a burst of energy and always searching for something new to try, especially when related to volleyball.

Despite his outgoing personality, Hinata found himself beyond shy when interacting with you. Perhaps, it had something to do with his silly crush on you. He'd avert his eyes away when you greeted him, stammer a reply, and dash away from you. Fortunately, you didn't interpret this as him having a particular dislike for you. If anything, you found it undeniably adorable.

So, on the last day of that fateful training camp, you approached him for the first time. Hinata went short-circuited as you stood in front of him. His heart was palpitating and he was afraid he was going to explode like a ticking timebomb at any second.

"Hey"

"H—Hi"

"Do you want to exchange phone numbers?"

What?

You were holding your phone while you suppressed a laugh when the shorter male's face burst into color. God, you just wanted to pinch his cheeks. Immediately, Hinata fishes for his phone in his pocket.

"Sure!"

You and the spiker had been texting each other nonstop since you both exchanged your numbers at training camp. You updated each other with even the tiniest things over the passing seasons, it was beyond endearing. You both couldn't deny there was a hint of growing affection as time flew by. Hinata was so refreshing and he fills you with a burst of energy, like an energy drink. It was after the new year when you and Hinata agreed to meet each other in person.

With flushed cheeks, you and he met each other dressed in layered clothes because winter had recently passed. You two visited the shrine, talked, and got food. The longer Hinata looked at you, the more he realized he was inevitably falling for you. Before the wonderful day ended, Hinata gained the courage to wrap you in his scarf and took your gloved hands. Your cheeks felt warmer than summer that day.

"I like you, [Name]"

He confesses. You could not contain yourself because you threw your arms around the smaller male and kissed him on the cheek. Hinata almost fainted on the spot. After that day, both of you decided to start dating. It was a year later when you both became official. Somehow with you in college and him in his third year, you both made it work.

Hinata was the perfect combination of a gentleman and a sweetheart that it made you swoon. Despite the height difference, he always carried you with ease. He gave you thoughtful gifts during your birthday and anniversaries. And your parents adored him so much too. You truly felt Hinata was the missing half of your soul.

"I'm going to Brazil"

You turn your head to look at him but Hinata avoids your eyes. Both of you were overlooking the sea after a fun date. You raised a brow.

"Why?"

You asked and he explained how he wanted to train in outdoor volleyball in a different country, he told you how he wanted to try different things, and he said that he wanted to find more ways to grow as an athlete. You chuckled. Yep, it was definitely something Hinata would do and you do admire him for that quality. Yet, you couldn't deny the ache in your chest thinking about how you'd be separated from him for god knows how long.

Hinata's lip wobbles when you reach down to clutch his hand, he can tell how hurt you will be because of his decision. However, you reassure him with a smile. All you want is what's best for him and what makes him happy. And this fills his heart to the brim.

"I'll be back before you know it"

"I'll be waiting for you, Sho"

You kissed him. Hinata realizes you were wearing the scarf he gave to you after he first confessed how he liked you, and he goes teary-eyed. Eventually, you accompanied him to the airport and gave him the tightest hug and longest kiss you could offer. Hinata couldn't wait to return to you. As you two talked over before, video calls were frequent. Even if over time it wasn't often, you two always maintained a connection.

Brazil seemed to be a fitting place for your boyfriend. All the pictures he sent to you of his progress showed how happy he was and you couldn't be more proud. He'd tell you about his journey with outdoor volleyball and learning Portuguese during video calls. One time he sent a picture of him and Oikawa Tooru coincidentally meeting there.

Although you felt lonely without Hinata by your side, you pushed through, because you knew he was bound to come home soon. Soon enough, Hinata returned to Japan and played in his new team the MSBY Black Jackals. You immediately got tickets to see him play against Adlers. You couldn't believe your eyes when Hinata made his entrance in the court after many years apart, tears welled up in your eyes when your boyfriend grinned at you.

He was here, he's finally home.

But god, it was hard to focus on what was going on with the match. Hinata looked so much hotter that it made you involuntary drool. First of all, the tan looks so good on him. And his muscles? Oh man, you couldn't wait to get some alone time with your boyfriend. You couldn't help the shameless ogling since you've been separated from him for so long.

You didn't mind who won the match, you were proud that your boyfriend was having a blast on the court. But when MSBY won, you leaped up from your seat and clapped for your boyfriend. Immediately after the match, Hinata went searching for you.

"Shoyo!"

"[Name]!"

You laughed as you ran up into his arms. Hinata scoops you up effortlessly and spins you around like you weigh nothing. You cling to him tightly with your arms around his neck while he presses tender kisses against your face. It felt like coming home. People watching the scene whistled and giggled with each other.

"I'm home, babe"

"Welcome home, love"

You two walked hand in hand as Hinata introduced you to his team. They all cheered and gave him wolfish grins. Hinata tries to shush them down with a blush when they invite you to go out for celebratory drinks. Your boyfriend's eyes bulged out of their sockets when you accepted the invitation.

So here you were, dancing in the club with a drink in hand. Sure, you were tipsy but you were far from drunk. You vibed with Bokuto Koutaro and Miya Atsumu from Hinata's team. Your boyfriend admittedly had one too many shots than he planned. He finished another round of alcohol before settling down near the bartender. His teammate, Sakusa Kiyoomi was there scolding him with a frown.

He spots you within the crowd dancing with Bokuto and Atsumu, he had the sudden urge to join too but his vision was beginning to spin. God, he hadn't drunk this much since his first year in Brazil. He tries to sober himself up with water from the bartender. From the looks of it, you were having the time of your life with his two teammates.

Slowly, a disgusting feeling rose within Hinata. No, he didn't feel like vomiting. He frowned when Atsumu spun you around on the dancefloor. It felt vague but familiar. He later realizes it was jealousy. Hinata sat up straight in his stool, that was childish! He's no longer a high schooler! He shouldn't be feeling green with envy. But he couldn't stop watching you laugh with Bokuto and Atsumu.

That envy eventually melted. Damn, he hated drinking because it made him emotional! Hinata thinks back to you and thought how lonely you must've been without him. He thought about how unfair it was for you to leave you for his improvement. You were probably aching with yearning for his touch and love while he was on the other side of the globe. You must be frustrated when you couldn't video call him often because of the different time zones.

Hinata's breath hitches. You're probably thinking about replacing him. God, what a horrible boyfriend he was! He's so selfish and you had every right to feel angry about it. Sakusa watched the shorter male stumble up from his seat and exit the club, he was about to follow him out but he hesitated. When you go searching for your boyfriend, Sakusa informs you that he has left the club.

You left multiple missed calls as you tried to contact Hinata. You sat outside the club with the rest of his teammates, worrying for half an hour. You almost collapsed with relief when he texted you "hotel" after so many attempts.

Hinata was lying on top of his hotel bed with his eyes puffy from sobbing. He felt so bad for abandoning you and making you worry. You truly don't deserve him. Suddenly, there's a soft knock on the door followed by your voice softly calling him. Hinata didn't respond as he sulked on his bed.

"Please, love. I just want to talk"

You pleaded. Unable to resist you, Hinata pulls himself up and trudges towards the door. You swiftly cupped his face in your hands when you saw the dejected look on his face.

"What's wrong, Sho?"

"I think we should break up"

Your heart comes to a screeching halt but you furiously shake your head. You can smell the alcohol in his breath and you know he was only intoxicated. Hinata didn't stop you from entering his hotel room as you shut the door and ushered him back to bed.

"Babe, we're not breaking up. You're just drunk"

"But I'm a horrible boyfriend!"

Hinata buried his face against his hands and the sight made your chest ache.

"Shoyo, you're not"

"Yes, I am. I'm so...selfish! And! And cruel! I left you here in Japan while I was being happy in Brazil"

You sighed as you picked his hands off from his face and held them tightly in your hands. You gave him a stern look.

"That's not true, Sho"

"Yes, it is! You should leave me and be happy with another guy that won't leave you. Find someone who's...*hiccup* taller! And better than volleyball!"

He turns to you with teary-eyes

"You should go date UshiWaka instead—OUCH!"

You scowled as you pinched his ear, harshly. Hinata winced as he saw the look on your face. You had enough of his drunken nonsense.

"I'm not going to break up with you, you idiot! And I'm not especially dating UshiWaka!"

You yell and your boyfriend whimpers at your scolding.

"You're drunk and none of those insecure thoughts are true!"

For emphasis, you force him to look at the mirror near the bed by grabbing his jaw and twisting his face towards the mirror, Hinata sniffs.

"Look how hot you are! You got a tan and you look more...beefier!"

"But I left you—"

"NO YOU DIDN'T, YOU DUMBASS!"

This time you smacked him in the head, which you immediately regretted. Was there any way for you to convince your dumbass boyfriend that he's the best in the world? While Hinata rubbed the place where you smacked him in the head, his heart froze when he saw a dark look on your face.

Oh no, was he in danger?

Nope, he was way far from danger. Hinata's safe, in your arms, sobbing, half-naked, and with his rock-hard dick in your hand. You were positioned behind him with your face buried against the crook of your boyfriend's neck. Hinata's breath was labored as his vision went hazy from pleasure.

"[Name]—ah!"

He whined and involuntarily bucked his hips upward when you began massaging his cockhead. Your cheek rubs against his right temple as you place chaste kisses down his neck. Hinata shudders. It seemed like he was suddenly sober with the way you began jerking him off in front of the mirror. There was no way he could've predicted this at all.

"Look at the mirror, look how pretty you are, Sho"

You purred against his ear. His eyes met his reflection and he nearly rolled his eyes back. He was half-naked with his legs spread and his orange locks were disheveled. He positively looked like a hot mess, moaning and sweating while you gave him a mindblowing handjob from behind. Fuck, your hand felt like magic around his cock. He let out a strangled moan when you started playing with his balls.

"Oh? Does my beloved boyfriend like it when I play with his balls?"

"[Name] please—"

"Do you want me to go faster?"

"Yes, hah—please"

When the pace of your hand turns faster, Hinata goes cross-eyed. He can feel his orgasm approaching and it's stealing his every breath. Your free hand grabs his jaw and forces him to watch himself fall apart in front of the mirror.

"You're the sweetest and kindest boyfriend in the world, Shoyo"

You whispered against his ear. Hinata whimpers as tears begin to gather in his lashline. The look on your face was sincere and tender and it soothes the ache in his heart.

"You always make me smile with your funny jokes and your cute smile"

"You have a heart of gold"

"My boyfriend is so sweet, loving, hardworking, and talented"

You showered him with compliments and it makes Hinata lightheaded. He feels like he's getting drunk again from the pleasure of your hand vigorously pumping his cock and from your affectionate reassurances. Suddenly, the pace of your hand slows down as you look at your boyfriend in the eye through the mirror.

"Do you want to know what I was thinking about when I heard you were coming home?"

Hinata inhales sharply as he catches his breath, his hands were clutching on both of your thighs as he gripped on for dear life. He gulps.

"Wh—what?"

You chuckled darkly as you went in to bite his earlobe with a devilish smile.

"I was thinking about you bending me in half and fucking me in your hotel room until I couldn't walk for a week"

With the confession, it plants a lewd and tantalizing imagery in your boyfriend's head. Fuck, were you thinking about that all along while you were waiting for him to get home? All this time, you just wanted Hinata to dick you down? Oh, he loved that thought as much as it embarrassed him. He does want to bury his cock in you until you saw stars—

"Ah, ah, ah! [Name]!"

Hinata screams your name as his orgasm crashes down on him. You watched your boyfriend burst through the seams with a choked sob as he threw his head back. Spurts of his cum coat both your hands and his abdomen. You gently guided him through his release. As soon as Hinata's vision re-focuses, he sees you smiling at him through the mirror. He couldn't help but smile back.

"How's that? Did that get rid of those stupid insecure thoughts, Sho?"

"It did, thank you, [Name]"

He reaches to kiss you on the cheek and you giggle. You were prepared to help Hinata clean up and cuddle to sleep with him but he suddenly grabs your arm. You flinch and look at your boyfriend, your heart skips a beat when you recognize a carnal look in his eyes.

"...Can I bend you in half and fuck you until you couldn't walk?"

Hinata asks politely. You can't even answer because he's already tugging your pants down with an eager grin on his face.

— ♬ Yamaguchi Tadashi

You perceived Yamaguchi Tadashi as a modest and hardworking co-worker. Some would say he's a cute guy and you'd agree. He'd show up early for work and would greet everyone with a smile. It was because of that smile that urged you to wake up early so that he could greet you. Your closest colleges would tease you during lunch break about your tiny crush on the guy, it felt silly blushing about it because it made you feel more like a high schooler than an adult.

Sooner though, you tried to make subtle advances on Yamaguchi. You'd begin to dress nicely for work and he'd notice and then compliment you. If you got to work earlier, you'd buy him coffee which he was grateful for. You began ditching your friends during lunch break to ask him if he wanted to eat lunch with you. And you and he began hanging out outside of work.

You continued for a month and became close with Yamaguchi. In return, he would share snippets about his life. He offered you glimpses of his interests like his favorite kind of Onigiri and how he used to play volleyball back in high school. After a long period of denial, you recognize that you have become head over heels with Yamaguchi.

Naturally, you panicked. You didn't know how to deal with these affections for your co-worker. You began to overthink. Would he ever return your feelings? Should you confess? Is he even your type? These thoughts send you into a frenzy that you can't sleep properly at night. One day, you arrive at work with a fever. You didn't recognize it at first until you found yourself unable to perform any work that day.

"[Name]? Are you okay?"

Yamaguchi peeked at you and saw you with your head resting on top of your desk. Your skin was flushed so he instinctively went to check your temperature by pressing the back of his hand against your forehead.

"You caught a fever! You should go home!"

He insisted. You groaned as you cast a tired look at him. Yamaguchi was sending you a concerned look that made your skin more flushed at the thought of how he must've genuinely cared for you. So, in a feverish delirium, you suddenly confessed to him.

"I'm in love with you, Tadashi"

Yamaguchi momentarily froze. Eventually, he gently leads you by the hand, wraps you in his jacket, and takes you home. You couldn't forget how he took care of you. He bought you medicine and cooked you soup. He constantly checked on your temperature. It was no surprise that you had a quick recovery. You were eternally grateful for his kindness.

"Oh, how will I ever repay you, Tadashi?"

"Go on a date with me"

He replies and your heart leaps out of your chest. It turns out, Yamaguchi reciprocated your feelings. Your romance with him began smoothly. You and he became famous for being the co-workers who fell in love with each other and started dating. There was an onslaught of teasing and bantering for a while from both of your colleagues.

You and Yamaguchi became official six months later. He took you out on cute dates and never missed an anniversary. He introduces you to his closest friends from high school and you introduce him to your family. Everything felt like a picturesque love story, that's what you thought.

Although Yamaguchi was happy with you, he didn't feel worthy of everything. He used to have trouble with accepting his worth even back when he was playing volleyball in high school. He had doubts about his abilities and took a long time of encouragement from other people to help him believe in his capabilities. But for some reason, it's beginning to feel bad again.

Somehow, within himself, Yamaguchi finds it difficult to accept how ordinary he is. Perhaps after being surrounded by extraordinary and talented people such as his friends back in high school, he's convinced that there isn't anything special about him. He's just...ordinary. And he's afraid that you'd grow bored of him or expect something from him that he couldn't offer.

Your boyfriend has been quiet during the following days. He's been reassuring you that he was okay or that he was just tired from work, but know him well enough that something was bothering him. Now, you're cuddling under the sheets with him while a movie plays in the background. You were relaxing with Yamaguchi after a stressful week at work. Usually, you and your boyfriend would talk or joke around during peaceful moments like these, but he's uncharacteristically quiet.

"Babe? Are you okay?"

"...Yeah, I'm good"

He answers distractedly and it bothers you. Yamaguchi sees you sitting up and your hand reaches to touch his cheek. He instinctively leans against your touch, but the look of uncertainty etched across his features. He felt guilty for not sharing his troubles with you, after all, you wanted an honest relationship with him. But his insecurities were preventing him from being open with you. He was afraid that you would leave him if you found out he was lying to you. Yamaguchi takes a sharp inhale.

"...[Name], do you think I'm boring?"

He asks. You raised a brow at him and tilted your head.

"No, why would you think of that?"

"I know you said we should be honest and...and I just want you to tell me if you're getting...bored of me"

"Babe, I'm not bored of you"

You rolled your eyes. Yamaguchi averts his gaze as he peels himself away from your touch. Concern flashes through your orbs.

"Tadashi? What's wrong?"

"I...I think I'm not the right guy for you, [Name]"

Your boyfriend replies as he faces away from you. There was an offended look on your face, you crawled towards him and embraced him from behind.

"That's not true, honey. I knew you were the one for me when you took care of me when I was sick"

"But...but what if..."

"What if...?"

"What if you grow sick of me?"

You frowned. Yamaguchi sounded like he was on the verge of sobbing and it honestly sent an awful feeling in your chest.

"What if you grow sick of me? What if I can't give you what you want anymore? What if I can't be enough for you? What if I'm stuck with being ordinary?"

He began to ramble and you have to stop him by grabbing his shoulders and shaking them. You shook your head and gave him a stern look.

"That's stupid. I'll never be sick of you, love. And what's wrong with being ordinary?"

Yamaguchi doesn't seem to be reassured when he turns away and stares at his reflection in your large mirror by the bedside. He takes in his features, his ordinary features. There were dark bags under his eyes, his complexion was pale, and his lips looked dry. He buries his face against his hands and feels his eyes grow wet. The sight of your boyfriend in despair because of his inner demons was heartbreaking for you. If only there was a way to comfort him, to knock some sense out of him, to...

An idea spawns in your head. Your eyes trailed on your boyfriend's hunched figure. You gulped. Out of all the ideas possible, an...inappropriate one has to be the one that seemed foolproof. You wanted to hold back thinking Yamaguchi wouldn't be okay with it, but the idea seemed so...attractive and tempting that your mind screamed for you to give it a try. Who knows? Your beloved boyfriend might enjoy it.

Puzzled, Yamaguchi can feel your hand wrapping around his waist. He was about to pull them away until your hands began to pry on the waistband of his sweatpants. His breath hitched as you positioned from behind him and pulled his pants down. An embarrassed yelp exits his mouth when you expose his lower half.

"[Name]! Wh—what are you do—doing—oh shit!"

You wrapped your delicate hands around his dick and he hisses. Yamaguchi's heart begins to palpitate wildly against his ears. He scrambles as his hands reach out to grab the sheets. His breath comes to a halt when you begin to give languid strokes on his cock. When your boyfriend melts under your touch you take it as a sign to continue.

"You doing good, baby?"

Yamaguchi nods as you smiled and ran your hand on his cockhead to smear the forming pre-cum all over his length. He shudders at the intoxicating sensation. He whimpers when you experimentally began toying with his ballsack. One of his hands went to grab your thigh. You leaned your face against his ear and exhaled.

"God, look at you, Tadashi"

Reluctantly, Yamaguchi trails his eyes to the mirror by the bedside. His eyes went wide at the lewd sight. He was half-naked with his fully-erect cock in your hands while you stroked him from behind. Sweat gathered all over his body and his skin was flushed. He looked pathetically submissive under your touch. It would be a lie if he said he didn't like it.

"Does my boyfriend want to cum?"

"Oh fuck—yes, please"

With his plead, your hand around his member speeds up. The pace sends him whining out loud and throwing his head back. Suddenly, you grabbed his jaw and forced him to look towards the mirror.

"I want you to look at yourself when you cum like a good boy"

You whispered hotly against his ear and his breathing just stops. Yamaguchi goes cross-eyed when you began to jerk him off even faster.

"When I look in the mirror, I don't see an ordinary man. I see my sweetest boyfriend in the world"

"It's heartbreaking to know you see yourself as boring when you were everything to me, Tadashi"

"No ordinary man would be more capable of stealing my heart than you, darling"

Yamaguchi gazes at you in the eye through the mirror and his heart simply melts. He knows you meant every word and at that moment he never felt so loved. You laugh as you playfully bite the shell of his ear.

"With you moaning like that babe, I think I want to call in sick tomorrow so you can fuck me until the morning"

Oh fuck

The idea was enough to send Yamaguchi to the edge. You watched with satisfaction as he wildly bucks his hips up with his eyes rolled back, completely at the mercy of his release. His rich cum landed on your hands as you stared with fascination. After his earth-shattering orgasm, Yamaguchi goes limp in your arms. You wait until he catches his breath.

"How is my hardworking, handsome, and sweet boyfriend doing?"

He chuckles as he sits upright and regains his composure. Your boyfriend turns around and gives you a tender kiss. He gently strokes your hair.

"Thank you, [Name]. I needed that"

"Anything for you, Tadashi"

You smile brightly up at him. The movie in the background ended with the credits rolling, Yamaguchi glances at the clock and hums in thought.

"I think I'm going to call in sick tomorrow"

"Huh? Why?"

There was a suggestive look on your boyfriend's face that it sends an exciting shiver down your spine.

"How about we both call in sick tomorrow and let me fuck you how you like it, yeah?"

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

#— ♬ with love; kitasgloves #— ♬ signed by; kitasgloves #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hinata shouyou #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata x reader #hinata x you #yamaguchi tadashi #yamaguchi tadashi x reader #yamaguchi x reader #yamaguchi x you

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meanbossart · 6 months ago

Note

What horror games have you played/wanted to play? Also have you tried any rpg maker horrors?

I actually don't play that many horror games, I don't think? Between you and me most of them are... Kind of garbagee. But I like when really weird things are taken dead seriously, which most video games don't succeed at. But in the rare time they DO, it usually falls into the "horror" genre at least loosely. I'm just going to list my favorites:

PS: I'm really showing how insufferable I am with these summaries, sorry!

The Outlast series: the most Tasteful tasteless gory-shit-fest of a horror series I've ever seen. I don't like shock for the sake of shock, and Outlast somehow manages to always make it for the sake of SOMETHING. The original game+DLC is a buttload of fun, and if you pull back one layer it also poses some interesting and difficult questions about the place and treatment of the criminally inclined in society. Pull yet another layer back and you find a fascinating subversion of the expected role men are supposed to inhabit in horror games. The second game is a vastly different, and profoundly emotional experience, opinions on it vary for reasons I find very understandable, but I personally really like it.

Fear & Hunger: I guess this answers your question about RPG horror games! Unfortunately, this is the only one I ever played that I liked, but REALLY like it, I have a tattoo of the circle of perfection on the back of my hand, even, lol (I already had other hand tats, don't freak out). I just really like the absurdity of the story and all of the lore that the developer has cooked up for it, and the way it all matters but also kind of doesn't. I think its an insane feat to have achieved the atmosphere he did with the limited tools he has, not to mention the massive amount of respect I have for any creator that simultaneously wears their influences on their sleeves while displaying massive creativity and originality.

Pathologic: This game kind of speaks for itself honestly. Its just brutal, creative, infuriating, I could go on - It's probably the most immersive experience I've ever had in a game. If you've never played it before I would suggest buying Pathologic 2 (don't worry about it) and playing it completely blind. Forget about "winning", forget even about succeeding, just go about it as if you were in the protagonist's shoes and see where you leads you.

Scorn: Without a doubt in my top 5 games of all time and I don't care that that is an insane take. This game is everything I want from interactive stories - entirely intuitive, doesn't spoonfeed you a single grain of its lore or pushes its story on you, it just puts the pieces in your hands and its up to you to feel it on instinct. This 5 hour game with no dialogue, no text, not even any named characters to speak of had me crying at its ending and I didn't even know whether I was sad or overjoyed. I fucking LOVE scorn.

Honorable mention:

The Space Between by Christoph Frey (not to be confused with The Space INbetween.): Is a short, 30 minute experience about intimacy presented through a horror lens. I really don't want to say anything else about it, but I played it like 5 years ago and I still hold it near and dear to my heart. It's a master's guide to storytelling through semiotics and exemplary in it's... Emotionally charged visuals? Like, I had never before seen a story make sentiment into and external, tangible thing quite like this one does, like turning sound into an object or something. Amazing little indie game.

#ask #not bg3

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stevesgother · 23 days ago

Text

Strange - S.H

Pairing - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC - 2.1k

Contains - angst, hurt/comfort, swearing, alcohol consumption, mentions of addiction, mentions of childhood trauma, exes to lovers, second chance romance

AN - Part 2 of 'Little Red Lighthouse' ! for the sake of not having to use “y/n” bc i hate it, reader goes by Lizzy. Use your imagination idk

'Isn't it strange/how people can change/from strangers to friends/friends into lovers/and strangers again.' - 'Strange' by Celeste

There was a biting chill to the air as you sat shoulder to shoulder on a rock overlooking the lake with your best friend. The shadow from the towering lighthouse did nothing to help your lack of warmth, but the heat radiating off Steve’s body beside you almost made up for it. In his hands he held a worn piece of notebook paper adorned with his signature scratchy handwriting, slightly crumpled from hours of reading and rereading; frustration bleeding between the inky blue lines.

“I don’t even know why I'm bothering with this shit,” he sighs, “dad thinks college is a waste of time anyway,” he gives the paper one last squeeze in his fist before chucking it into the water.

“Steve!--” you practically shriek, “what’d you do that for?!”

“Cause’ Liz, we both know I’m not getting accepted anywhere worth going to,” he says with finality, like he’s already made up his mind despite it only being January, “and you’re gonna go somewhere fancy schmancy like Feinburg while I rot here,”

“Well certainly with that attitude you will,” he shoots you a deadpan look from where his head is propped in his hands. “Stop worrying about what your parents want, Steve. What do you want?”

“Right now I want to get off this boulder. It’s fuckin’ freezing out here,” the end of his sentence is muffled by his cupped hands around his mouth, huffing into them in an attempt to bring some warmth back into his numbing fingertips.

“I’m perfect, actually.” you feign self-assuredness just to tease him. He knows you’re cold too, the tip of your nose is bright red and frozen to the touch, giving you away.

“Oh, are you?”

“Yeah” you chirp, “I am,”

“Oh, okay,” just then he slides what could've been an icicle but really was just a frigid hand up your shirt and presses it firmly to the small of your balmy back, earning a squeal from you.

“Asshole!” you shove him away playfully and he removes his hand, deciding for once, to spare you.

You spend the rest of the night bundled under layers of quilts, watching movies your mother rented from Family Video that afternoon as snow falls from the pale sky in big, fat flakes. At some point during the second film, you feel yourself curl into his lap where he’s seated on your sofa, fighting and losing a battle with sleep. Just before slumber overtakes you, you note the feeling of his hand tracing soothing circles over your spine. The arm that isn’t holding you against his torso snakes around to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear, selfishly so he can steal an unobstructed view of your peaceful expression.

He almost enjoys being with you more when you’re sleeping. Not because he doesn’t adore listening to your winding tangents or your infectious laughter, but because you can’t see him unabashedly staring at you when your eyes have drifted shut like they are now. It’s as if the world has stopped spinning on its axis and time has halted just for him. His own personal sleeping beauty. You looked like the rest of his life.

Memories have a mortifying way of appearing gold in hindsight; nostalgia like a knife that’s gutted him, leaving him emptier than he was before. Now, whenever the air gets older, Steve is reminded of how your presence used to feel.

–

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Stepping into his orbit for the first time in all these years, the love you still have for him beats inside your chest like a second heart. You long to reach out and touch him, to weave your fingers through the hair at the back of his head and nuzzle your face into the tender skin of his neck, to cry how sorry you are and ask “How could you let me leave you?’--

“You look well,” the low register of his voice shakes you from your spiral and you remember with a sharp pang of guilt just how long it's been since you heard him speak. You feel like he’s taller now than when you left, even though he hit his last growth spurt during the last summer you spent together. A soft dusting of hair that wasn’t there before graces his upper lip. That cheeky, boyish charm you always loved had suddenly morphed into something more gruff. It made your stomach churn.

“Thanks, I don’t–” you cut yourself off with a soft shake of your head, “Thanks, Steve. You do too,”

He gives a meek shrug as he glances down at himself. There was simultaneously so much and yet nothing at all to say, and the silence was suffocating.

“How long are you in town for?” he asks, hoping the answer is indefinitely but knowing it won’t be.

“For a week, then I have to go back to the city,” you struggle to ignore the subtle disappointment that flashes across his features. “I was offered an internship in graphic design. It starts next month.” You say with a tight lipped smile. You wished you wanted that, but now that you were home, all you wanted was to stand under Steve’s gaze like a bug under a magnifying glass.

“That’s wonderful, Lizzy. I’m really happy for you.” Of course he was happy for you. If this was what you wanted, Steve was thrilled for you. But in all the 15 years you’d been inseparable, he’d never once seen you take an interest in graphic design. Maybe it was because your father was an architect. Your mother, an artist. To not follow in their footsteps, Steve knew, would make you feel like you failed them. It doesn’t change the way he can see your expression faltering when you utter even a word about your future career.

“You– what about you? Are you working for your dad?”

“No, actually, I took over for Hopper. At the station.”

This time, Steve’s blessed with your real smile. A genuine one. You never wanted the alternative for Steve. Being constantly surrounded by corporate goons, taking over the family business just to be miserable and burnt out in less than a decade. The boy never could make up his mind about what it was that he really wanted to do, but he knew it wasn’t that. The trouble was, Steve only ever felt like he belonged somewhere when he was anywhere with you.

A gentle hand to his bicep sends him reeling, and it’s all he can do not grab you by your shoulders and pull you into his chest with as much force as he can muster. But the moment is gone as soon as it arrives, and you’re being whisked away by some other friend who’s vying for your attention. Absently he wonders if he left, would people miss him the way they seemed to have missed you? He supposes it’s best not to dwell.

–

When you arrive home later, the house is empty with a note from your parents stuck to the fridge claiming they’re out tonight. You’re grateful for the reprieve from socialization as you pad your way upstairs and down the hall towards your childhood bedroom.

It looks almost identical to when you left it, with the exception of a spare unrecognizable object here or there. Things your parents must have picked up for you at some point with the hopes of being able to give it to you the next time you visited home, but never could. Your mother had made your bed neatly, adorned with all the stuffed animals and bedding from your youth. Everywhere you turned, there were mementos of your lifelong friendship with Steve. Greyscale photo booth pictures, old movie stubs and the dried remnants of the corsage he gave you for prom. It was a memorial; a cemetery of your life together.

When you finally managed to lie down, all you did was toss and turn until the analog clock tick tick ticking on your wall informed you it was one A.M. In your sleep deprived haze you absentmindedly sat up and reached for the baby blue corded phone resting on your nightstand. It was only when you brought the phone to your ear and heard the droning dial tone that you realized what you were doing, and set the phone back in its cradle. Your fingers ached to press the digits to the only number you knew by heart: Steve Harrington.

–

You weren’t sure why your mom kept renewing her Cosmopolitan subscription for you, since you hardly took interest in the issues, but she did nonetheless. Tonight, struggling to find something more productive to do, your curiosity got the better of you as you mindlessly flipped through the pages with freshly manicured nails. It was a Friday, and the prospect of sleeping in tomorrow delighted you. You were in no hurry to get to bed.

Just then you heard the shrill ringing of the new phone your parents got you to keep in your bedroom for your birthday. You knew it had to be at least twelve o’clock in the morning. Only one person would be calling you at this hour.

“Hello?”

“Hey, can I– can I come over?” Steve's voice was hushed and trembling. Muffled yelling could be heard in the background over his unsteady breathing.

“Steve? Yeah, ‘course, I'll unlock my window,” you pause, “everything okay?”

“Yeah just– I’ll be there in ten,” and with that you heard the receiver click back into its place on the wall.

Magazine having been discarded on the floor next to your bed, you sat at your desk, knee bouncing rapidly as you waited for Steve to climb through your window like he had dozens of times before. At sixteen, you’d be caught dead having a boy in your room at this hour, even if it was just Steve.

You hear a soft tap tap tap on the glass, signifying his arrival. In a rush, you hurry over to your window to help him in. When he regains his balance with both feet on your carpeted floor, you’re finally able to get a good look at him. He’s bleary eyed and his nose is chapped raw, like he’d been rubbing at it continuously for hours.

“Hey,” you say softly with a gentle hand to his forearm, “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” You feel guilty pressing him on the matter immediately, but you can count on one hand the amount of times you've seen Steve genuinely distressed. Last Halloween when Nancy Wheeler had proclaimed that he and their whole relationship was ‘bullshit’ had been the last time.

“Mom and dad were fighting. I guess– I guess he found these pills she’s been taking? I don’t know,” he looks dejected as he fidgets with the hem of his sweater, “Jus’ couldn’t listen to it anymore.”

Your eyes round into saucers when you looked to him, concern gracing your features. It was always something with the Harringtons. If they weren’t screaming at each other, they were screaming at Steve. Catherine had substance abuse issues, John was violent. Broken dishes and holes punched in drywall were becoming the norm. All Steve wanted was a way out; an escape. You gave that to him. Always.

Without another word, you propped yourself up on your tiny twin bed and motioned with open arms for him to come lie with you. He accepted the invitation instantly, sinking down into the mattress with you. His head rested on your chest, just above your rapidly beating heart. A heart that beat for him alone. You silently prayed he knew that.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence and softly petting his hair, you felt two distinct drops of tears land on the silky satin of your pajama shirt. You attempted not to make a scene, with the knowledge of how difficult it was for him to be vulnerable. Instead, you simply continued your ministrations on the back of his head and held him a little tighter.

“It’s okay, Stevie,” you whispered against the crown of his head, “You’re safe now. We’re gonna get out of here someday, y'know? I promise.”

He nodded bleakly in acknowledgment against your sternum as his tears fell a little quicker and a little harder. “Okay,” he whimpered. The sound nearly tore you in two.

You’d never intended on breaking that promise. Not really.

–

Against your better judgement, you reached for your phone a second time and dialed his number for the first time in five years. You hoped he didn’t get a new landline.

His voice was gravely and thick with grogginess when he picked up after six torturous rings, “Hello?”

“Meet me tomorrow. DiBella’s. Ten o’clock.”

You slammed the phone back into the receiver before you had time to regret it.

taglist: @sheisjoeschateau, @ohwauwdoritos

divider credit to @/strangergraphics

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pippin-katz · 1 year ago

Text

6 More Little Faces Alex Makes That I Love - Part 2

(not ranked in any order)

No. 1:

I love the smile he does right before this, but I also love this. He gets a little emotional. You can see in the way his mouth moves and his nostrils flaring that it looks like he’s a little choked up.

You know when you’re not crying, but you can feel that throbbing sensation in your throat, and you know you might start crying if you’re not careful. You start swallowing a lot to try and keep it back.

That’s what I’m seeing here, and that’s super sweet because he loves Henry so much that he might cry.

No. 2:

Do you think he knows? Do you think he’s doing it on purpose?

That right there is the “lifts eyes” look. That right there is exactly what authors are picturing they write something like this:

Alex looked down at where the key sat against his chest. The cool metal was a stark contrast to Henry’s hand. Goosebumps spread across his skin, centered on where they were touching. Alex raised his eyes to meet Henry’s.

Like sir, can you not be a walking fictional character? You might as well have walked out of the book.

No. 3:

There is no other word for this but swooning. Again, might as well have walked off of a page with how perfect his physicality and expressions are.

No. 4:

This look right after Henry says they’re committed to each other is perfect. He stays neutral enough not to be rude, but you can see it in his eyes and his eyebrows how determined he is.

He’s looking at Philip here as well, who has been giving Alex rude looks since they sat down; his face particularly after he says “god no” to the question of reading the emails is borderline disgusted, and if you watch his eyes, he looks at Alex more than Henry.

Kudos to Philip’s actor for being able to subtly imply his layers of prejudice with as little screen time as he has.

Alex’s responding stare is like he’s challenging him. His eyes say, “if you have a problem with that, you’ll have to fight me over it, because I’d die before I’d let you take him from me.”

It’s obvious from the moment the king starts talking that Alex wants to speak up, but he knows this is Henry’s fight first. He holds himself back for as long as he can and lets Henry do the talking.

At this point, the king has already dismissed Henry’s request for support and right to be happy, so Alex is definitely pissed off, and then Philip is a dick; his patience is running out.

It’s amazing how a tiny change in facial features can speak volumes without saying a word.

No. 5:

This breaks my fucking heart every time I watch it.

His eyes are noticeably red from crying, which I have no idea how he did because he's not actually crying in this scene, so it wasn't from filming it over and over again. Maybe they filmed the Kensington Palace scene prior to this one, on the same day or something, cause he was crying in that one.

Anyway, this expression just kills me, because he's reached the crossroads. He can either keep waiting, not knowing if Henry will ever answer him, or he can go to London to get his answer.

And the idea that Henry may not see him and how that would be it, the true end to their relationship, fucking devastates him.

You can see it in his eyes and the deep breath he takes that he's imagining it. He's playing it out in his head, him going to London and being turned away, and having to go about living his life without Henry in it.

Just the idea of it is enough to break his heart, and it breaks my heart to look at.

No. 6:

I love and hate the way Alex's face slowly falls when Henry says he should leave. Think about this for a second.

They live on separate continents with an ocean in between them. Alex is the First Son, and Henry is a fucking prince. They were texting for months before they got to see each other for New Year's Eve, which was the only reason why Henry was able to go to the States. He's only in the States now for the dinner party being hosted for the Prime Minister. He's flying back to London tomorrow.

They have no idea when they'll see each other again.

Henry has the idea of inviting Alex to the polo match, so he might be a bit optimistic, which is probably why he was still smiling when he pulls away. He's thinking about it, and has been for at least a little bit, probably since after the Red Room encounter earlier that night.

But Alex?

He has no idea how long it will be until the next time they're able to see each other in person again. Henry texted Alex for the first time on August 27th, and they weren't able to see each other in person until New Year's Eve. That is four months.

Since they were just friends during that time, it probably was no big deal, but now? Now they're going to be constantly thinking about each other. Thinking about getting to hold each other again, getting to kiss each other again, getting to do more explicit things again- all of it.

And Alex doesn't know when he'll get to do any of it again once Henry leaves. He even goes to say, "I guess I'll see you-" when he and Henry start talking at the same time.

Henry inviting him to the polo match is a promise of getting to see him next month, so probably a week or two, depending how far into the current month they are. It's probably part of why he smiles so much when Henry leaves. He has something to look forward to.

But in this little moment, Alex probably feels so sad because he knows Henry has to leave, but he really, really doesn't want him to, because he's not just leaving for the night so they don't get caught in Alex's room together. Once he walks out that door, he doesn't get to see him for who knows how long.

Agh, okay, that's all for part 2! I'm not too sure if I can make a part 3, but we'll see!

Update: If you enjoyed this essay & would like to support me, you can give me a tip on my Ko-Fi! ☺️

part 1 | part 3

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #rwrb movie #rwrb thoughts #alex claremont diaz #taylor zakhar perez #firstprince

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ronearoundblindly · 10 months ago

Text

Hideout (3.1)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader

Sensitive Boy, part I (see previous or series)

Summary: Steve surprises you with help at the perfect time.

Warnings for light smut (I have to split this chapter or it's just suddenly twice as long as the last, but really there's just massage and an implied orgasm in this half. You know me: too many feels and too much development...) MINORS DNI. This series is 18+ only. If you are underage or simply enjoy lighter content, there is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this post is not for you! WC 3.2k

With so much on your mind, scaring the crap out of you is not difficult, so his strong hands hold you upright.

“Don’t do that,” you shriek, barely glancing at Steve’s face. You startled so suddenly your housekeeping cart is left rolling away at a snail’s pace.

“Sorry, I—“ long arms abandon you and reach to stop the bin “—it said on your website you were closed for renovations, and…”

You look him up and down. You were sure after he left two months ago that you’d never see him again. You’d gone too far. You’d pushed him too hard. He wasn’t ready.

Steve adjusts the strap over his shoulder. “I thought maybe I could help out…if you want?”

The last guests checked out a half-hour ago, and you readied to spend the whole week meticulously refreshing each room with your parents. The list of what needs done, however, doesn’t only include the motel. There’s a bunch you all had let slide up at the house. Help would…be extremely helpful actually.

Steve pulls a paper bag out of his knapsack. “Or I brought you some lunch if you just want a break or something.”

“It’s okay,” you rush out. “More than okay. Thank you, yes. We’d love—I’d love that.”

No one else can know it’s him-him there though. You’ll have to think of a way to keep your parents and St-‘Grant’ as far apart as possible, and how long you can manage that is…questionable.

If Steve’s not worried though, you’re okay.

Turns out, keeping your family up at the house is easy. Your mom shouts down the phone with relief that she can tackle the fridge, and you hear your dad mumble something about ‘the garage in daylight.’ You can enjoy a sandwich in the office with Steve in peace, explaining what all needs done before the electricians show up Friday afternoon.

The closure hasn’t been planned for a long time—not even before Steve and ‘Tom’s’ last visit—hence why you just painted Room 8, 5, 2, and 1 since March, but doing all those is how you and your parents really noticed that the light fixtures from the ‘90s were not only dated but very worn and that the same color layered over and over again for twenty years was, well, getting old.

Warmer months are better for the work. Pipes won’t freeze while you air out paint fumes, etc. The week after the gigantic, city festivities of Independence Day is notoriously dead. Since there were no reservations this stretch as of April, the family jumped at the chance to fix it all in one big, daunting go.

Saying you’d looked forward to this is a wild overstatement. You’ll be glad when it’s finished, and that’s the bulk of your excitement.

With his assistance though? Hope soars.

Steve will help you take down the sconces, the hanging lamps, and the panels above the vanities, then you both can—

“Where’s the paint?”

He’s very intense with the gameplan. Three guesses why.

“Dad’s gonna pick it up today. Probably. I’ll text him.” You whip out your cell again. “We didn’t think we’d get that far by evening.”

Steve nods.

“We also need to move all the furniture away from the walls and drape plastic to protect the carpet. Oh, and put tape along the trim and doorframes, ya know.”

Steve nods again. He wads up the wrapping from his sandwich and casually asks, “are all the doors open?”

You only just get your finger in the air to point at the desk.

“Master key is—“

But Steve is observant and has clocked everything about his surroundings each time he’s stayed, apparently. He stretches over to the wall beyond the counter, snatches the (correct) unmarked key, and heads out the door.

The service bell rings gently to emphasize the conversation is over.

All furniture in every room is pulled away by the time you finish sanitizing the one guest room he interrupted.

He asks where you keep the ladder, not that he’ll need it, but you will for reaching some of the lights.

You don’t know whether to be in awe of or exhausted by his efficiency.

He’s rigid and militant—go figure—until these few moments he suddenly can’t be.

As you toss plastic over the last bed to move, Steve yanks that sucker across the floor so fast, you roll off. His eyes are saucers as he apologizes, but you get the giggles and pick yourself up.

His fingers can’t separate thin layers of the plastic at one point, and he throws a minor fit until three rip apart together. Steve frowns at you and grumbles that he’s only ever used cloth for this before. It seems to take everything in his power not to say “back in my day,” but you can read between the lines.

Years of crusted paint makes the removal of some fixtures tricky.

Steve rips out one stripped screw with needle nose pliers, squeaks in alarm at the hole left behind, and then quietly asks if you have patch paste.

You call your dad before he’s left to buy paint. He adds spackling to the list.

The closest Steve comes to telling you anything specifically about himself is when you struggle with a stuck bolt.

“Just a little trick I learned when I was—“ Steve wraps his big hand around yours to pull the wrench instead of push from the other direction “—smaller.” He huffs out a laugh, adding, “when I couldn’t, ya know, ‘put my weight into it’ because a feather could’a knocked me over.”

As you relish the simple contact of his fingers, you smile, too.

“Hmm. I heard you got into back alley scrapes.”

“If you heard that I won any of those, you were lied to.” He patiently waits for you to finish removing the bolt before he pries the aged metal and glass away from the old paint it’s stuck in. Steve sighs dramatically.

“Shoddy education these days…”

“I…” You tap his bicep with the claws of the wrench. “I can’t argue with that. We hear only what they tell us about…heroes.”

You should have known he’d shut down at that word, but it’s the truth. Even with him right in front of you, the only things you know about Steve Rogers are from books, newspapers, and the internet. At face value—looking directly into the face of this man—all of what you’ve been told is hogwash. It’s insufficient. It barely covers 1% of who this man is.

He teaches you tricks of the weak man’s trade because it helped him once, too. Today, he’s friendly. Not that he was unfriendly before, but Steve is so reserved he never reference the past, in general, i.e. that there was a past existence of like the planet much less him.

It’s the number one rule of Fight Club: you don’t talk about Fight Club.

If there was ever a real fight club, it’s the Avengers.

You have no official rules for what this is between you. You don’t have to to know that is the most important one. You do not talk about Fight Club. Steve isn’t afraid of silence, that much is clear, but he isn’t a fan. He tries—he is trying—to connect and relate. He can’t be a man of the people, however, if he can’t talk to the people.

It’s important: connection. You know with every fiber of your being that Steve deserves it, but even with unlimited, super-human strength, he cannot get himself out from between this rock and that hard place.

You do not talk about Fight Club, especially when you’ve been kicked out of Fight Club.

Today, though, he’s a little different, a little softer. Perhaps it’s knowing there are no other people in the building, perhaps he is truly more comfortable with you, but either way, Steve is not flat or off-putting.

His organized persona, his focus on the work, his indirect interactions and practical touch; they all fit here while he has a project. It’s the closest he can be to his old self, maybe even his real self, without mentioning the past—the fighting past—at all.

“You’re really good company,” you tell Steve, “even when you make holes in the walls.”

He tilts his head down and blushes. He shrugs as he takes the sconce out to the dumpster. Although he didn’t say it, you hope this is okay.

Either way, you relish it. The help. The touch. The silence. All of it.

You relish Steve.

Your dad brings by the paint, spackling, and a surprise of pizza for dinner while Steve is taping the baseboards in a corner. You introduce ‘Grant’ from afar and haul the cans and boxes from the car to the room, cataloguing all you two have finished to this point and what you’ll do before stopping for the night.

Dad is impressed. He’d suspected the three of you—you, he, and Mom, that is—might settle for slapping some paint up around where the electrician would install the new lights. No one planned on getting this far in one evening.

He won’t stand in the way of progress, so your dad simply calls out, “bit of an artist, are ya?”

Steve looks up, confident with only the side table lamps plugged in, he can barely be seen. “Just want to be useful,” he mutters.

You wink at your dad as he heads back to the still-running car. “Grant is a jack of all trades.”

You’re sure to thank him for the food and let him know all the motel stuff is completely covered for tomorrow, too. You’ll work as late as you can and start as early as possible.

Dad says your friend has gone ‘above and beyond.’ You agree wholeheartedly.

‘Grant’ would more aptly be described as a machine.

All the furniture moved, all the lights taken down, all bordering taped, and now all blemishes in the walls smoothed, your impromptu contractor finally calls it quits when he’s forced to watch stuff dry.

You’ve kept the air conditioning going in one room.

Steve tentatively asks if he should walk you up to the house, but you counter with “it’s not any less dangerous for an average guy alone to return” and a cheeky smirk. Besides, it is very late. You let Captain OCD keep going; you tapped out a while ago.

He puts his hands on his hips, arms akimbo, thinking of a comeback that never manifests. After giving up, Steve takes his tiny bag into the bathroom and brushes his teeth.

You can faintly hear it over the murmur of the TV.

You aren’t really watching. It’s background noise to your general exhaustion.

With only a side lamp and the screen as light, Steve’s bare feet crumple over the discarded plastic sheet on the floor. He falls into one side of the bed, fully-clothed and (finally) tired.

Though productive, the day has been a distant one, working in different rooms for most of it and tiptoeing around real conversation. You want him to feel appreciated, not pressured, so you ask if he’d like the TV on for a while or would rather quiet.

Steve just grunts with his eyes closed.

Gently, you place a hand on his chest to steady you, leaning to kiss his bearded cheek.

“Thank you, Steve,” you say softly. “Good night.”

He hums when you say his name, and before you can lift your hand away, he captures it under his, holding you in place.

His eyes aren’t open. He can’t see you smile wider.

“Okay.” You tuck yourself into his chest as he raises his other arm out of the way. “Okay.”

Your ear sits in the dip beneath his collarbone, listening to his steady heart, his thumb sweeping back and forth over you knuckles.

He smushes you closer to his side. You toss your leg over his.

You forget to turn off the TV.

He’s sanding the spackled spots by the time you wake, so you rub across his back and dismiss yourself to get breakfast up at the house.

Steve makes no effort to go with, which is fine. You assumed as much.

Your dad calls Grant a ‘magician’ over the pop of oil in the skillet and insists you give your friend whatever he needs to keep working so fast. You are only half-joking when you admit the key is staying out of his way.

Bonus: the exchange reinforces your parents simply leaving the two of you alone down the hill, and you proudly tell Steve that when delivering him an enormous plate of scrambled eggs.

He jumps right back into planning-mode and orders you to roll the first coat of paint onto large areas. He’ll follow, completing the edges and corners.

It’s such a domestic thing to do. There is no one in danger, there are no bodies piling up if he makes a wrong move, and he can go faster or take his sweet time. Steve breaks when he wants or needs to. He sits outside and listens to the birds in the sunshine. No one is around to question him, not even you. You are only there to encourage.

You realize he was looking for a project. He’s used to—and likes—being busy, getting his hands dirty, producing results.

It’s a long, messy day where he becomes more serene in spirit the more intensely he works. You reward him with gentle sweeps of your hand down his arms, pats on his shoulders, and brushes at the small of his back.

Despite the almost constant movement, the day is over before you know it, earlier than yesterday, but it’s too hot to go on.

All the windows stay open to air out the fumes.

Though it won’t stop you from sweating, you both shower off as many splatters and flecks of paint as you can. You insist he goes first so there’s plenty of hot water.

He’s sitting on the bed, shirtless, checking his phone when you come out of the bathroom, but he immediately squirrel the device away in his small bag. Not much to carry around. Not much to leave behind. Steve can’t leave a trace of himself anywhere.

Hunched over and fatigued, he flashes a polite smile your way and blinks heavily.

He deserves the world.

You grab the small bottle of lotion from the countertop and playfully jump onto the bed behind him.

“How about a massage, yeah? You much be aching.”

Honestly, you don’t mean for it to sound sexual, but the phrase comes out downright dirty, making Steve awkwardly chuckle.

“You don’t have to,” he placates.

“Nonsense, I want to. It’ll make the air feel cooler.” That’s as good of an excuse as any. Who cares when the rippled expanse of his back flexes wildly in your touch?

His breathes are audible from the beginning.

You dig at his traps, his leg bouncing as he tries to relax. You use your thumbs, the flats of your hands, and your knuckles.

He shoves his fist in his mouth when he starts to moan, covering the move with a cough, but muffling the noise is abandoned in favor of clasping over his lap. He’s intent on hiding his hardness this time. There’s nothing you can say to truly lessen the sting of needing more. You can’t simply tell him he’s allowed to desire this; you have to ignore his misplaced shame.

But you can take pity on him.

“If you lie flat—“ you step off the bed to give him privacy “—I’ll have more leverage.”

You hear him crawl and adjust on the sheets. “Unlike the torque on a wrench,” you add, just to show you’ve been listening to him.

More lotion is needed for the surface area.

You turn up the TV, feining interest in the late night show so any noise he makes is not as obvious. What the speakers can’t cover, however, is Steve’s involuntary thrusts when you rub the heels of you palms up and down the sides of his spine. If you prop up on your knees, he has more range of motion and doesn’t obviously rock you while mindlessly humping the bed.

His sweats are slung low on his hips, two darts of muscle prominent above his ass.

They are irresistible, the perfect grooves to target and roll into, and he immediately mewls long and deep into the mattress, fingers curling and relaxing while his body seizes.

He hasn’t even finished coming, you think, before he taps at your leg and races to the bathroom.

You hope you didn’t push too far. You hope he’d tell you to stop if he needs more space, more time. Mostly, you hope he knows you’d give him every conceivable pleasure, just because he is him.

The water runs a long time, continuous splashing in the sink, and then nothing.

He didn’t bring much because he doesn’t have much. Your heart sinks, realizing you’ve made him soil one of only two pairs of pants he has here.

He cracks open the door, muttering, but you can’t make out the words.

You turn the volume back down. “What?”

“It pretty hot.” He clears his throat. “Would you mind if I sleep…without…?”

“Naked?” you squeak before composing yourself. “That’s fine. Whatever’s comfortable.”

You shuffle up the bed to click off the lamps. This man isn’t the type to strut around in the nude—yet, anyway—so in the faint and ever-shifting glow of the screen across the room very little can be seen.

‘Little,’ however, can’t describe anything that is visible about the man emerging from the bathroom.

You have to make a point not to stare, but no skit or commercial on the channel promises the same level of entertainment.

Steve slides himself beneath the sheet, sitting near the headboard.

You hold up the remote. “On or off?”

“Off,” he says, “please.”

You’ve certainly done enough for one day. You won’t push your luck, so you hit the power button, toss it on table, and snuggle into your half of the bed, facing away.

“If it’s too hot for any covers, that’s okay, too.”

A rustling interrupts the rhythmic whir of crickets in the night until you feel a warm hand lightly mold to your waist.

This should be encouraged. This should be rewarded.

“Hey, Stevie,” you whisper, waiting for his hum, “happy belated birthday.”

At most you expect a grip of notice, but instead, the big hand snakes across you and hauls you into his chest, his long legs bending to match the crook of yours, his nose and forehead tucked against your occipital.

“We did okay today,” Steve mumbles into your shirt.

You walk your hand over your stomach to find his, lacing the fingers together. “Yes. Yes, we did.”

Steve got to be useful today. He had a partner today. He will tomorrow and the day after, for as long as he stays, for as long as you’re alive. Nothing can change that.

Maybe he can’t talk about Fight Club, but he connects with you anyway.

A/N: Whoopsy. Didn't want to make y'all wait for a 6k+ chapter, so here's the first half! I am DEEP in the feels of this one. So, so many notes have been taken. The brainrot is real, and I fucking love it!!!!

[Next: Sensitive Boy, part II]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @rogersbarber @spectre-posts @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @im-a-slut-for-fluff @fangirl-swagg @georgeweaslysgirl @austynparksandpizza @claireelizabeth85 @jamneuromain @rach2602 @royalwritersoftheuniverses @shelbygeek @rogersideup @eyebagsanonymous @trudy-shams @saranghaey @awkwardgiraffe726 @marvelmenwhore @happinessinthebeing @before-we-get-started @sjsmith56 @esposadomd @cjand10 @yearningforsappho @mrsevans90

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tabooiart · 5 months ago

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okay so i've been working on some hadestown designs on and off for MONTHS and i wasnt planning on posting them until they were all done but i decided to post what i have done to maybe motivate me to finish the rest. so heres the two main couples!! every time i listen to hadestown a little fake production plays in my head so i wanted to get it out into the world. notes under the cut i have a lot to say <3

my orpheus is a butch lesbian idc you cant take this away from me

i'm bringing back the jean jacket from the london production because i love it so much but ALSO because its always bothered me that orpheus is the only human character that doesnt get a jacket for the winter?? it's worn for some scenes in act 1 including wait for me but is gone in act 2. i imagine she lost it at some point during the journey to the underworld, especially because its so hot down there

the idea was that orpheus' clothes are pretty nice (nice slacks, nice shoes) but theyre all worn out. scuffed shoes, baggy knees, holes in the shirt etc etc

patch on the knee matches eurydice's dress <3

i like the idea of eurydice having a bright dress under her huge dark coat. during summer she is happy and opening up to orpheus so her wardrobe changes to reflect that. but on the flip side during winter when her coat is stolen she is forced to bare her raw self to hades

she keeps her headband even in her hades uniform to show shes still holding onto her fading memories and individuality

okay so while i was working on this i came to the realization that i dont really like persephone's dress that much. and then i realized i can do whatever i want.

i referenced a lot of 30's evening gowns. i wanted something poofy and with a lot of movement. not super happy with how i drew the sleeves but its hardddd

theres this one persephone wig that has gray streaks in her hair i loveeee

both dresses of hers would be very shimmery and sparkly. im imagining a lot of subtle texture thats just hard to capture with digital art

i still HATE drawing suits

not a lot to say about hades i didnt stray too far from his established look because its so perfect

OH i added a red pocket square to both match the red back of his vest but also to be evocative of his heart! like under all the layers and walls he still has some feelings lol

#my art #fanart #hadestown #orpheus #orpheus hadestown #eurydice #eurydice hadestown #persephone hadestown #persephone #hades #hades hadestown #realizing i wrote way more abt orpheus than the others #not my fault shes my fav and i have a lot of thoughts about her. for normal reasons.#anyways i NEED yall to hold me accountable for finishing the rest of these designs #because i do really want to

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sincerelystesichorus · 9 months ago

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let's talk about that one scene in oops

(and fizzarolli in general bc me and my autism r obsessed with this scene and haven't seen someone break it down. also ft. blitz lmao)

just a general scene and vague character breakdown/analysis!

i first of all want to admire the perfect representation of best friends to enemies with blitz & fizz because ugh.

And like Blitz tells everyone this but the way it's so malicious here. Just the perfect simple dig and Fizz's little shit eating grin because it delivered how he knew it would sdfkjsdkf. Shoves Blitz to the side because really that's all he cares to say. Fuck you and what you did to me, bye bye <3 Fizz is so for talking shit and dipping (House of Asmodeus) I love how messy it is but also shows how he really doesn't hold malice for Blitz otherwise. Obviously we see this front and center later in the episode once they start reconnecting, but I like the subtlety and how he's so willing to snap at Blitz despite his usual anxiety with confrontation.

Blitz also knowing exactly what to say to really piss Fizz off once things escalate <3

(Fizz literally so smug and content with himself lmfao)

(smirk wiped off bc hey that's the thing i'm sensitive about!!)

But Fizz keeps his composure. And if you'll let me be alarmingly gay for a second, I love how his version of keeping his cool as a messy gay is managing to basically recreate this drag race confrontation in what is probably my favorite set of Fizzie lines.

youtube

eat him up babes. also it's so important that that shitty coffee and fizz were on this side of the street for framing i'll talk about it more in a sec jfskjdfksf.

and now my personal favorite exchange of this entire scene that is criminally underrated imo:

love his face after this line. I SUPPORT DISABLED PEOPLES WRONGS sfjdlkfsdd. literally so fucking nasty with his clown wit but also so justifiable because yeah blitz did just pull this nightmare and dip in fizz's pov. i cannot wait for that to get touched on more likeeee why were they kept apart ugh.

and finally!!

this cut to blitz,, specifically the scarred side of his face is sooo good.

the face of a man who just achieved critical vicious mockery vs. the face of a man that knows he can only win this interaction one way now

Blitz does deserve a little violence maybe <3 Fizz underestimated his ass jjdkfsdlk.

Idk I just love how indicative this whole interaction is for their characters but especially Fizz, it's a perfect build-up for him. Fizz has major imposter syndrome with dual layers because of general haters but especially because of Mammon and Asmodeus. Not on any fault of Ozzie's,, we just see Fizz obviously thinks he isn't fully deserving of their relationship/his situation and the healthy dynamics of it and so do most major news outlets apparently askjfsk.

(full fizzy meme post & also i like how this is a special also like damn do u think they were also apart of the crossword??)

It'll be really interesting to see how his character develops in future episodes because I feel like a lot of what I've rambled about here has come to a resolution after 2 Minutes Notice in the musical special lmao. I really like how here when he goes to compose himself, this is how he does it.

Makes me wonder how many times him and Ozzie have had the self-worth and imposter syndrome conversation before it finally stuck in the Mammon Musical Special. I just love their relationship and how they compliment one another,, and how it projects into Fizz's other relationships because they're healthy for one another. Love my OTP love Blitz & especially love Fizzie. Obviously.

#long post #words words words #character analysis #character essay #helluva boss #fizzarolli #fizzarolli helluva boss #blitzø #helluva boss blitzo #fizzmodeus #fizzarozzie #bless any1 that reads this whole thing love u #helluvaboss #qb #qb writes

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kanekisfavoritegf · 6 months ago

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PERFECT LOVER: The Life of Nanami Kento the 35 Year Old Virgin

MINORS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL GET BLOCKED

Table of Contents

CHAPTER TWO 1/2: A Short interlude as I will myself to live and complete chapter 3.

The drive from Kento’s apartment was short enough to make you consider walking next time. If there was ever another situation in which you’d be leaving Kento’s apartment in the morning.

“Such a warm welcome from my favorite neighbor,” You quipped, unlocking your door.

“You were at Kenny’s, right?”

“Kenny? Who i– Oh! Kento. Yeah.”

“You didn’t sleep with him, right?”

“No, of course not.”

“Good.” Yuki sighed.

“Good? Is he dating someone?” You felt your breath hold as you wondered aloud, only releasing it once answered.

“No, he doesn’t date.”

“Like at all?”

“Nope.”

“Is there a reason?”

“It's not my story to tell.” Yuki shook her head. “He is touchy about the subject.” You only nodded.

“Not even casual hookups?”

“Hey! No.” You would have been offended at the harshness of Yuki’s voice if her expression of horror had not been so amusing, “He is off limits.”

“What do you mean?”

“You make it seem like I am some succubus.”

“You might as well be Y/N.”You only rolled your eyes at her. “Listen to me, Y/N,” Yuki’s hands cupped your face like a child needing grave warning. “You can not deflower poor Kento.”

“He isn’t a child.”

“You hummed a sound of agreement and went to your bedroom to change. Thoughts of Kento are still in your mind; the more Yuki speaks about him, the more you want to pull back each layer of him to see what exactly makes him the way he is. Yuki’s words still echoed in your head as you showered “hell if you kissed him, it would lead to places I don’t think you’d want to go to.” But it was already too late. Kento Nanami was undeniably curious about you, just as much as you to him.

CHAPTER THREE loading...

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yourleftpinkytoe-blog · 5 months ago

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Pinkytoe’s top ten Aftg hot takes

Read with caution I’m very passionate about my thoughts and did not hold back on my opinions. This is not an attack on people who think differently it is me putting my perspective out there.(with some harsh wording)

1: The rift in Andrew and Aaron’s relationship is just as much Aaron’s fault as it is Andrew’s.

A lot of the time I see people framing Aaron as Andrew’s victim which is a weird interpretation of their relationship to me. It’s not just Andrew controlling Aaron, it is also Aaron fundamentally not understanding that Andrew is a person who has thoughts and feelings. Aaron fundamentally doesn’t understand that Andrew is not doing everything in his power to hurt Aaron he’s just trying not to lose Aaron. So with that understanding Aaron goes out of his way to hurt Andrew like aaron thinks he’s doing to him. The whole dynamic is toxic but neither is exclusively the perpetrator or the victim. The deal is a double edged sword and when people pretend otherwise it feels like it’s doing a disservice to the reality of the situation.

2: Erasing Aaron’s homophobia is not the take that some people think it is.

I see a lot of people making claims that Aaron isn’t homophobic he just doesn’t like hearing about his family’s sex lives. But I feel like people are blinded by their love of his character to see that his homophobia is a character flaw of his. He was raised by Tilda. Tilda was raised with Luther. It would not surprise me if she saw extremely homophobic. Also it takes place in 2006/7 casual homophobia was so fucking rampant… obviously he’s gonna have some uncomfortable opinions on gay people. But being homophobic is not a permanent state of being he can and probably will grow from where he is in canon. Pretending his comments in canon arn’t what they are is taking a layer from his characterization.(plus a layer from the rift in Andrew and Aaron’s relationship is Aaron’s homophobia soooo)

3: Thea was not nearly as bad as some people make her out to be and the whole situation reeks of racism

Yall I said it once and I’ll say it again. THEA AND KEVIN DIDNT START DATING TILL KEVIN WAS A COLLAGE FRESHMAN AND SHE WAS A SINIOR. They were both consenting adults who were in the same shitty traumatizing situation. Stop saying she’s a pedo stop acting like her being mad that he practically cut her out of his life for a year is unjustified. there relationship doesn’t seem perfect but it is not how some people portray it. Stop ur being racist to the only canon black woman!

4: all the hate that the fandom has for Thea should be amplified and given to Roland.

Now let’s see… Roland was 23 when he and a 16 year old Andrew started hooking up. Now that’s some pedo shit. Not only that, but Roland was if fucking boss at the time. Andrew had to tie Roland down in order to make Roland not touch him. You know the teenager he’s hooking up with. I said it once and I’ll say it again, fuck that bitch he’s a shitty shitty person who deserves all the hate the fandom could give him.

5: Hating Riko and thinking he got what was coming for him in the end and understanding that he’s a victim in his own way are not mutually exclusive. I can hate that fucker and still feel bad for him.

I think I explained this in the description well enough

6: Neil’s demisexuality/demiromatisism is non-negotiable. That shit is an important part of his character and erasing it for the sake of shipping is weird as hell.

I can’t even count the amount of times I’ve seen people just take away Neil’s demi identity’s because they want to read about him fucking everyone except the one character he’s been show to have romantic/sexual feelings for. Like I’ve seen people so upset he didn’t end up with Kevin and I’m just like yeah… cause he’s not into Kevin. Makes sense to me. I see so much…

*insert quote about how Neil have and idol like admiration for Kevin and his exy skills*

“Omg Neil wants to fuck Kevin sooooo bad it’s canon*

Like honestly ship whatever but don’t try to change the canon to justify it. Have your fun stop being stupid.

7: While Nicky’s actions in the first book inexcusable, the rampant mischaracterization of him to make him worse than canon is not cool.

This isn’t as big of an issue to me but I see people portraying Nicky as like an actual sexual predator and not just a person who lacks understanding of personal boundaries. What he did to Neil is super fucked up and I’m not excusing him (or anything he did in the first book tbh) but changing him to make the situation more back and white than it is is odd to me.

8: on a similar topic you can not compare what Nicky did in Columbia to what Andrew did.

Andrew had a justified reason for what he did. He is protecting Kevin from the fucking mafia and this shady Kid shows up with a stalker binder and a shit ton of money all while looking like he came off the street. It’s suspicious as hell. Also I want to add that he is on mind and mood altering drugs. The situation is fucked and looking at it from Neil’s perspective it’s even more so cause we know he is not involved in a malicious way, but Andrew didn’t. He acted with every justification while Nicky did not, the only reason Nicky did what he did is cause he wanted to. Both are not good but you can’t compare the two.

9: While kevins alcoholism is not good, the way his fans frame it is grossly misrepresenting the situation.

In the books Kevin is not in a mental state to handle getting sober on top of everything else. His alcoholism is bad and everyone knows it but it is the only thing getting him through things without causing him to shut down. It’s not good but if it’s what he needs to get through this then that’s what he needs. When he’s not in the middle of a mob war he’ll be in a better position to handle himself without alcohol. He’s not a helpless bbg he’s a grown man just trying to get by and if it helps it helps.

10: I do not get the hype around Kevin.

This might be my most controversial take tbh…Like he’s a cool character. And I love him as much as the other foxes but I don’t understand the recent wave of him getting babygirlified. Is it the queen symbolism? Is it just cause he’s conventionally attractive? Is it cause that one scene in the kings men where he was cunty as fuck? No clue.

but yall have fun I may not get it but it is entertaining as shit

#aftg #all for the game #andrew minyard #the foxhole court #the foxes #neil josten #andreil #aaron minyard #nicky hemmick #kevin day #anti roland #anti Roland aftg #thea muldani #all for the gay #aftg hot takes

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