#like part of it is distraction but part of it is like hey maybe that turns into something and i'll be glad i have some info | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

synsacra · 2 days ago

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P*RN STAR DANCING

pairing: shanks x stripper!reader

warnings: smut, fingering, shanks has a dirty mouth :3, unprotected piv, creampie, maybe a hint of breeding idk, tiny bit of overstim, lots of banter between shanks and reader, pet names (doll, sweetheart), bit of name calling (slut), mention of marking, liiiittle splash of possessive shanks, reader loves her job

words: 5.3k

a/n: tried to make this fit in the op universe as much as possible but if some things dont make sense go easy on me pls im just a girl :P enjoy

You step onto the dimly lit stage, the sound of your heels clicking against the floor drowned out by the music. The bass pulses around you, vibrating through every inch of your body. You've danced to this song countless times, yet each performance feels like the first. Every dip and spin comes instinctively to your body.

As you start to move, hips swaying and arms reaching above your head to grip the pole, you scan the crowd. The faces blur together in the haze of cigarette smoke and bright lights. But then your eyes lock onto one figure that stands out.

He's tall and broad-shouldered, his skin is sun-kissed–the kind of tan that speaks of years on the open sea–and his red hair almost seems to glow underneath the club's lights. He leans back casually against the wall, but his gaze never leaves you.

You’re used to being ogled. It’s part of the job, the way men’s eyes linger on your curves, their gazes hungry. But this stranger doesn’t look at you like that. His eyes sweep over you, taking you in, but there’s no leer, no crude appraisal. It’s almost respectful. And yet, there’s something in that look that feels undeniably dangerous, like he’s already undressing you in his mind.

"Hey, baby!" one of your regulars shouts as he holds out another wad of Berries. He’s been shoving bills into your thong all night, but now, he feels like a distraction. You turn toward him, leaning down so he can stuff the bills into your bra, but quickly move back towards the pole at center stage.

You spin around it, your body moving gracefully as you flip upside down. Your hair cascades down towards the floor, and for a moment, you feel weightless and free. When you come down, you land smoothly in a split, arching your back to show off every curve of your body.

As the music winds down and you gather up the scattered bills on stage, you catch sight of the redhead again out of the corner of your eye. He’s still watching you.

Once offstage and in the dressing room, you quickly pull on a dress over your stage outfit before making a beeline for the bar, keeping one eye on the crimson-haired man as he makes his way through the crowd. He's drawing attention, but he doesn’t seem to care.

As you reach the bar, you take a seat on a stool next to another dancer and lean in, whispering, "Who's the guy with the red hair?" while nodding subtly in his direction.

Your coworker follows your gaze and whistles lowly. "Damn, he's hot," she says before her eyes widen. "Oh shit, I think I know who he is."

She leans in closer, lowering her voice even more. "That's Shanks... as in the Red-Haired Shanks. You know–Red Hair Pirates? He's one of the Four Emperors!"

You stare at him in disbelief as he approaches the bar and orders a drink. Shanks turns towards you as if sensing your gaze. His eyes lock with yours and he grins.

"Mind if I join you?" He asks, his voice deep and a bit rough.

You're taken aback by the request but quickly compose yourself.

"Not at all," you reply, motioning towards the stool to your left.

“You don’t look like the type to frequent places like this,” you hum, leaning casually against the bar and signaling the batender for a drink. Your voice is teasing, but there’s an edge to it, a challenge.

He turns to look at you, and there it is again–that gaze. It’s intense, but you don’t look away. “And what type is that?” he questions thoughtfully.

“The desperate type,” you explain, tilting your head slightly. “The kind who walks in here looking for something they can’t find anywhere else.”

He chuckles, it’s a sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “Maybe I’m not looking for anything. Maybe I’m just here to enjoy the view.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his response. "The view?" You repeat, your voice laced with amusement. You've heard it all before, but something about how he says it makes you curious.

You take a sip of your drink, your eyes never leaving his. He's got a way of making you feel like you're the only person in the room, like the music, laughter, and shouting are all just background noise.

"Oh, come on," you tease, "you can do better than that." You're trying to get a rise out of him, to see if there's something more to him. But instead of getting defensive, he just smiles.

"I meant it," he laughs. "You're captivating. Like a stormy sea on a moonless night."

You blink, surprised by his poetic comparison. It's not the kind of thing you usually hear in a place like this. Most men are more direct in their compliments–if they give any at all. You laugh, a little breathlessly. "You're quite the charmer," you respond, taking another sip of your drink while keeping your eyes on him.

As the conversation continues between you and Shanks, you can't help but notice how he listens intently to everything you say. His eyes never leave yours, and his smile is genuine and warm. You find yourself opening up more than usual, sharing stories about your life that you don't typically share with customers.

"Tell me," Shanks asks, voice laced with curiosity, "why do you dance here?"

You pause for a moment, considering your response. It's not a question many people ask. Most men who come through these doors aren't interested in why you're here; they're just interested in what they see on stage.

"It's fun," you reply finally. "And it pays well."

As you finish speaking, Shanks leans in closer. His eyes sparkle with interest, and he nods thoughtfully. "Fun," he muses softly, "I can understand that."

You tilt your head slightly, curious about his response. "What about you?" you ask, genuinely interested now. "What brings an emperor of the sea to a place like this?"

Shanks' eyes crinkle at the corners as he grins. "Just passing through," he shrugs. "Thought I'd see what the local nightlife had to offer." His gaze flickers over you briefly, and you feel heat rushing to your cheeks.

"Find anything interesting?" you ask, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

"Oh, definitely," he smirks. His eyes meet yours again, holding your gaze steadily.

You laugh at his response, the sound coming out lighter and more carefree than you expected. "Glad I could hold your interest," you tease.

Shanks chuckles, sipping his drink before setting it down on the bar again.

"So," he says slowly, "do private dances happen often here?"

Your breath catches for a moment before you realize what he's asking. You've had plenty of requests for private dances before, but something about this feels different. Maybe it's the way Shanks looks at you, or perhaps it's just because it's him asking.

"You want a private dance?" you ask nonchalantly, but inside, your heart is already racing at the request.

Shanks nods, his eyes glinting mischievously. "If you're up for it, of course," he hums.

You feel a shiver run down your spine at his tone, but you nod before you can second-guess yourself.

"Follow me."

You lead him towards the back of the club, away from the pulsing lights and pounding music. The kights in the hallway are dim, and you can hear the muffled sounds of other private dances behind closed doors. You stop in front of one door and turn to look at Shanks.

"Private dances are five thousand Berries," you say softly, your eyes meeting his.

Shanks reaches into his pocket, pulls out a 5000 Berry note, and hands it to you without comment.

As soon as the money changes hands, you open the door and step inside, motioning for Shanks to follow. The room is small, dominated by a single pole in the center of the floor. Plush couches in deep jewel tones line the walls, and there's a small table in the corner with two chairs tucked underneath it.

"Make yourself comfortable," you say as you close the door behind him.

Shanks moves towards one of the couches, sprawling across it casually..

"So," he says, observing the room, "what exactly does this private dance entail?"

You smile sweetly as you move closer to him. "Whatever I want it to," you reply.

Shanks chuckles at your response. “Is that so?” he murmurs, leaning back further into the couch. “I’m all yours, then.”

You take a moment to let your eyes roam over him, admiring how he looks underneath the dim red lights of the room. You step forward until you’re standing right in front of him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body.

“Let’s start simple,” you start, your voice soft but confident. “Keep your hand to yourself. For now.” You reach out and run a hand along the bare skin where Shanks’ shirt is open teasingly. He tenses slightly under your touch but doesn't move away.

"You're very obedient," you tease. "Most men can't resist trying to touch."

Shanks smiles lazily. "Maybe they don't know what they're doing," he replies.

"Maybe," you agree, chuckling softly. You lean in closer, your face just inches from his. "But you seem to know exactly what you're doing."

Shanks' eyes follow your every move. "I've had my fair share of experience," he admits.

"Oh?" you murmur, trailing your hand down his chest to rest on his thigh. His muscles flex under your touch. "And what kind of experience is that?"

"The fun kind," Shanks smiles.

You laugh airily. "The fun kind?" you repeat, tilting your head to the side. "Is that a pirate thing?"

You're not sure where the question came from, but as soon as you ask it, Shanks' eyes light up with amusement. "Could be," he replies with a hum.

"Could be?" You echo, raising an eyebrow. Your hand is still on his thigh, and you can feel the heat of his skin through his pants.

"Definitely is," Shanks corrects.

You're enjoying the banter with Shanks, and the conversation with him flows easily. There's an undeniable charisma to him that has you swooning.

Deciding to up the ante, you take your hands off of him and start swaying your hips slowly, keeping eye contact with him. His gaze flickers down briefly before meeting yours again, and you can see lust building in his eyes.

You slide onto Shanks' lap smoothly, straddling him with your legs on either side of his thighs. He's firm beneath you, solid muscle that flexes as he adjusts his position to accommodate you. It surprises you how easily you fit there, how natural it feels to be so close to him.

"Comfy?" you question, lips quirking up into a smile as you look down at him.

Shanks laughs softly, the sound rumbling through his chest where your body is pressed against his. "Getting there," he replies with a lopsided grin.

You start to move slowly, grinding down against him in small circles. Your hands come up to rest on his shoulders, fingers digging into the hard planes of muscle there just a little bit. Shanks' hand twitches slightly at his sides, like he wants to reach for you but remembers not to touch.

"How long do these dances usually last?" he muses, eyes fixed on your body.

"Depends on how much the customer pays," you reply. “Sometimes just for one song, sometimes for fifteen minutes…” You lean forward slowly until your face is inches from his once again. Your lips brush against his as you speak next. "But I’ll dance for you as long as you want..."

Your hips continue their slow grind against Shanks', moving in time with the muted beat of music that filters through the walls from the main club area outside this room. You can feel him growing harder beneath you with every roll of your hips.

Shanks' breath catches audibly when your lips press against the column of his neck. "Fuck," he mutters under his breath.

You smile against his skin but say nothing in response. Instead, you start moving faster now, grinding more firmly against him with each roll of your hips. You can feel how hard he is now through those ugly pants he’s wearing and it makes heat pool low in your belly.

"You're really enjoying this," Shanks observes after a few minutes more of the relentless motion of your hips. His voice sounds strained despite its attempt at nonchalance.

"Mhmm…," you agree without breaking rhythm for even a second.

You've lost track of time completely, but judging by Shanks' current state, this private dance has probably gone on longer than usual.

And yet, it still doesn't feel quite enough.

"Touch me," you say abruptly, grabbing his hand and bringing it to rest on your thigh where your dress has ridden up.

You guide Shanks' hand up your thigh slowly, pushing your dress up even further. You shiver slightly at the contact, and he notices, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

"Like that?" he murmurs, his thumb brushing back and forth across the soft skin of your inner thigh.

"Yeah," you reply breathlessly, your hips moving faster against him now. "Higher."

Shanks obliges without hesitation, sliding his hand further up under the skirt of your dress until his fingers brush against the lacy edge of your panties. You gasp softly at the touch, your body tensing with anticipation.

"Fuck," Shanks groans as he feels how wet you are through the thin fabric. "You're soaked..."

He starts to rub your pussy through your panties with his fingertips, sending pleasure shooting through your body. You moan softly against him and arch into his touch.

Suddenly remembering where you are and what you're doing here in this room with him–dancing for money–you make a quick decision.

"Watch closely," you breathe hotly against Shanks' ear before standing abruptly from his lap. The sudden loss of contact leaves both of you panting softly.

Without taking your eyes off him, you reach for the straps of your dress and slide them off your shoulders slowly. The dress falls down your body to pool around your feet on the floor.

Shanks watches you with rapt attention, his dark eyes hungrily roaming over every inch of newly revealed skin. You can already see how affected he is by your body, his breaths come faster now, and a flush rises high on his cheekbones.

You step out of your fallen dress and kick it aside carelessly before turning to face away from Shanks. Reaching back with one hand, you slowly unhook the clasps of your bra before sliding the straps down your arms and dropping it to join your dress on the floor.

Your back is still turned away from him as you look over your shoulder at Shanks with a teasing grin. You can feel his eyes burning into your skin, and you know that right now, he's imagining what he'd do if you let him touch.

You turn fully to face him again after a moment, hands coming up to cup and lift the weight of your breasts slightly. Your nipples are stiff peaks begging for attention and Shanks' eyes zero in on them immediately.

"Shit," he groans again before running a hand down his own body and over the prominent bulge in his pants.

You giggle at this reaction before moving to straddle him once more. Shanks' hand comes up immediately, this time without prompting, cupping one of your breasts fully in its palm. He groans appreciatively at feeling all that soft weight in one hand.

"So fucking perfect..." He mumbles before leaning forward just enough to take one peaked nipple into his hot mouth.

The sensation of wet heat surrounding the sensitive flesh has you crying out sharply against him before burying both hands in his messy red hair to hold him closer.

Your hips continue moving steadily against Shanks as he works your nipple with lips and tongue, suckling and nipping gently until you're squirming with need against him.

When Shanks finally pulls back with a gasp, both of your nipples are glistening wetly in the dim light of the room.

You shudder slightly as cool air hits the wet peaks of your nipples, and you let out a small moan. Shanks looks up at you with darkened eyes, smirking cockily.

"Sensitive?" he teases.

You nod breathlessly in response.

Shanks’ smirk grows wider, and he leans in suddenly, capturing your lips with his own in a sloppy kiss. His tongue slides against yours, and you moan softly into his mouth.

His hand moves from your breast down your body to slide beneath the edge of your panties. You gasp as his fingers find your clit, rubbing the swollen nub gently.

You break the kiss after a moment to look down at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "That feel good?" Shanks asks breathlessly.

You nod in response, barely able to form words right now. Your hips are moving on their own accord now as you grind yourself down onto his skilled fingers.

Shanks chuckles lowly at your reaction before leaning forward again to take your mouth in another kiss. This time, when he pulls back, he nips gently at your bottom lip with his teeth.

The combination of his fingers playing with you and his lips on yours has you squirming against him within minutes. You're panting heavily now as pleasure starts knotting in your stomach.

Suddenly feeling too confined by what little clothing remains between you two, you reach down between both of your bodies to start fumbling with his waistband.

"Need these off," you breathe against his lips.

Shanks helps quickly in removing both your panties and his pants before settling you back onto his lap once more.

This time when your bodies meet, nothing separates Shanks’ hard cock from the wet warmth of your cunt. You both moan loudly as he rubs against you teasingly, the head of his cock catching against your clit.

You gasp sharply as you feel Shanks' hard cock rubbing against your slick folds. The sensation of him so close to being inside you has your hips moving restlessly, trying to bring him closer.

Shanks groans at your movement, his hips flexing up slightly to meet yours. "So eager," he murmurs against your skin before nipping gently at your neck.

The small sting from his teeth sends sparks of pleasure shooting through your body and you shudder against him.

"Need you inside me," you whine.

Shanks chuckles lowly against your skin before pulling away slightly to look you in the eyes. "Not yet, doll," he replies teasingly.

His hand slides down once more to cup your pussy and rub over your clit with his thumb. Your hips move faster now as you grind yourself down onto Shanks' skilled fingers.

He leans forward again, lips closing around one of your nipples and suckling firmly while he works two fingers into your tight cunt slowly. The combination has you crying out above him.

"Fuck- yes, that’s it, sweetheart..." Shanks groans around your nipple before switching sides–licking and nipping at your other breast.

Your body is starting to tremble now from the overwhelming sensation of Shanks’ touch. You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second from his fingers working in and out of you in a slow, deep rhythm.

Suddenly Shanks curls his fingers inside you just right and rubs over that spongy spot deep in your cunt that has you fluttering around him. You scream sharply above him at the feeling.

"Yes, ngh! Shit- Just like that-" You cry out desperately, hips moving frantically now against his hand as he continues rubbing over that spot relentlessly.

Shanks groans lowly at the wet squelch your pussy makes as his fingers plunge into it over and over. He can feel your cunt clenching tightly around him, chuckling out a breathy, “Yeah? Is this pretty pussy gonna make a mess all over my fingers, hm?”

“Cumming- m’cumming! Fuck- fuck fuck fuck!” You babble, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you cum loudly on Shanks' hand, hips jerking erratically as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.

You collapse forward against him as you come down, panting heavily as aftershocks continue rocking through your trembling body. When you can finally breathe again, you lift your head from Shanks' shoulder and look down at him with hazy eyes.

"S’good..." You pant breathlessly before pressing your lips to his in a passionate kiss. Your tongue slides into his mouth, tangling with his. Shanks groans lowly and reaches down with his hand to cup one of your ass cheeks fully, fingers digging into the soft flesh there as he kneads it. You shudder softly at the sensation before breaking the kiss.

"Wan’ your cock," you whine, grinding down onto Shanks’ lap.

Shanks laughs and his hand moves from your ass to guide his hard cock towards your entrance.

The head catches against you as he rubs it teasingly along your slit, collecting wetness before easing you down onto him. You gasp sharply at the initial stretch from him entering you so suddenly, and Shanks stops after only a few inches inside.

"Too much?" He breathes against your skin.

"No," you gasp. "Jus' need a minute."

Shanks nods and stays still as he holds you close, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. After a few moments, once the initial stretch from Shanks’ size subsides, you start to move slowly above him. His hand moves to grip one side of your hips tightly, helping you ride him as he starts to match your pace from below.

You can feel Shanks' eyes on you as he watches you move above him. The feeling of his heated gaze has you bouncing on his cock harder.

"So fucking tight," Shanks groans, fingers digging into the fat of your hip. "Fuck, doll- this little cunt was made for my cock."

Shanks' voice is rough as he talks, sending pleasure coursing through your veins. "I knew from the moment I saw you up on that stage that this tight little pussy was meant for me. Knew it."

He punctuates his words with hard thrusts of his hips, fingers digging into your hip almost painfully tight now.

You gasp at the filthy words falling from his mouth, your cunt clenching around him.

"Y-yes- I was made for you," you whimper above him, your hips moving faster and faster. "I knew when I saw you too...this pussy belongs to you now."

Shanks groans deeply at your declaration, sucking one nipple into his mouth once more–suckling hard while he fucks up into you with deep thrusts from below.

"Fuck- yeah?" Shanks pants against your skin before switching sides and lavishing attention on the other neglected breast. "Gonna mark up these pretty tits so everyone knows who this sweet little cunt belongs to-"

Your breathing picks up as Shanks works your nipples with lips and tongue while his cock pounds into your cunt and you feel yourself starting to build towards another orgasm already.

"Gonna fill this tight pussy with my cum," Shanks mumbles drunkenly against your tits before nipping sharply at the soft flesh there.

His thumb rubs firm circles over your clit as he fucks into you harder now, hips snapping up to meet yours.

"Fuck yes- cum inside me," you gasp desperately above him, hips moving frantically against Shanks' hand as he works your clit while filling you up so perfectly with his cock.

You can feel yourself getting closer by the second, a knot of pleasure building in your lower belly.

"Shit- fuck- m’close-" You cry, head falling backwards.

"Close?" Shanks repeats against your skin, nipping at your collarbone.

You nod frantically above him, hands fisted in his hair as you grind yourself down onto his cock harder. "Yeah- fuck I'm so close..."

Shanks groans lowly before leaning back to look up at you. "Gonna cum on my cock?" He asks huskily, his voice strained by the effort of fucking you.

You whimper needily, eyes hazy and glazed over. "Yes- wanna cum- wan’ you to fill me up..."

"Gonna make a mess all over my cock? Gonna cum for me like the dirty little slut you are..." He purrs filthily against your neck as he works your sensitive bud.

His words have you keening, cunt fluttering around his cock.

"Yes- fuck yes!" You cry out sharply, his words pushing you over the edge. "Cummin’! Oh god- ‘m cumming!"

Your cunt clenches down around Shanks' thick cock as you cum loudly above him. Shanks groans deeply at the feeling of your pussy squeezing him so tightly.

"Good fucking girl," he breathes heavily against your body as his hips stutter inside you with each clench of your cunt. "Cum on my fucking cock like a good little slut."

His filthy words have you clenching even harder around him, pleasure wracking your body.

Shanks suddenly slams up into you, cock pressing tightly against your cervix, his fingers digging into the meat of your ass. You yelp at the sudden roughness, and then he's cumming too. You feel his thick cock pulsing inside you as he spills himself deep in your cunt.

"Take it," Shanks pants breathlessly against your ear. "Take my fucking cum- fuck this tight little cunt is milking me..."

You can feel him twitching inside you still as he rides out the last waves of pleasure. He pulls back to look at you after a moment, dark eyes hazy with lust.

"Fucking perfect," Shanks murmurs, pressing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss–tongue sliding into your mouth sloppily.

When Shanks finally breaks the kiss after a few seconds, you're both panting softly against each other's lips. He reaches down to slowly pull himself from your swollen cunt, cum dripping out to coat his spent cock.

"Fuck," Shanks groans lowly, watching as more of his cum drips from your well-used hole to pool beneath you on the couch cushions. "Look at this sweet little pussy...so full of my cum."

He runs two fingers through it teasingly, collecting some on them before bringing them up to push back inside you gently. You shudder at the sensation, still sensitive from cumming just moments ago.

"Ahh! Ngh-" You cry out sharply, eyes fluttering closed.

"Mm? Sensitive?" Shanks teases, fingers plunging back inside once more.

You nod frantically above him, hands grabbing his wrist weakly.

"T-too much-" You whimper, hips trying to shift away from his touch.

But there's nowhere for you to go in this position straddling his lap with thighs spread wide open for him.

"Shit- too much- m'really sensitive," you pant above him.

Shanks chuckles mischievously before pulling his fingers from you slowly. You shudder at the sensation of them sliding back out of your swollen cunt. He brings his cum-coated fingers up to your mouth suddenly, smearing them across your lips teasingly.

"Taste yourself," Shanks purrs, watching your reaction intently. "Taste how fucking sweet this tight little pussy is."

You moan softly at the words falling from his mouth, and your tongue darts out instinctively to taste yourself on his fingers, licking them clean of your combined fluids.

"Fuck- you're so good for me, sweetheart..." Shanks groans, a smirk pulling at his lips.

You feel a flutter in your chest at the praise, and you smile down at him.

"I'm just glad you enjoyed yourself," you say softly, gently reaching out to run your fingers through his hair. "I have to say, I had a pretty good time myself."

Shanks chuckles lowly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looks up at you. "Oh yeah?" he teases, reaching up to cup your cheek in his large hand.

You lean into his touch, savoring the warmth of his skin against yours. "Definitely," you murmur, your eyes never leaving his. "I don't think I've ever had such a good time with a customer before."

Shanks grins up at you. "Well then," he says. "I guess that makes me a pretty special guy, huh?"

You can't help but laugh at that, continuing to run your fingers through his hair playfully. "I suppose it does," you tease back before leaning down to press a sweet kiss against his lips.

You break the kiss, smiling down at Shanks with flushed cheeks. "I should probably get back to work," you say softly, reluctantly shifting off his lap.

Shanks nods in understanding, reaching out to help steady you as you stand on wobbly legs.

You start to gather up your discarded clothing from the floor, pulling your panties and bra back on before reaching for your dress. Shanks watches you with hooded eyes as you shimmy into it, his gaze roaming over your body appreciatively.

"Looking at me like that won't get us out of here any faster," you tease over your shoulder as you smooth the dress over your hips.

"Can't help it," Shanks laughs. "You're a fucking work of art."

You roll your eyes, but you can't stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

"Well, thank you," you say with a playful wink. "But like I said, I should probably get back to work."

Shanks nods again, standing up from the couch and stretching his arms above his head, and you let your eyes roam over his body appreciatively as he does so.

"Thanks for a fun night," Shanks says with a grin as he pulls on those ugly pants of his.

"No problem," you reply with a smile of your own. "It was definitely more interesting than my usual nights here."

Shanks laughs at that before pressing one last kiss against your lips. "I'm glad I could spice things up for you," he murmurs against your mouth.

You're left feeling dizzy from its intensity when he breaks away after a moment.

"I hope we can do this again sometime," Shanks says, his eyes meeting yours.

You nod eagerly. "I'd like that."

"Until next time then," Shanks says with a wink before heading for the door. He pauses after a few steps though, looking back over his shoulder at you.

"Hey, doll?" he says softly.

"Yeah?"

"I really am glad I met you tonight." Shanks' voice is low, and he’s sincere as he speaks.

You feel your heart flutter in your chest at his words, touched by the sincerity behind them. "I'm glad too," you reply just as quietly.

Shanks nods, giving you one last smile before heading into the hallway. Your shoukders slump in disappointment as Shanks walks out of the room, already missing the feeling of his body against yours. But even with that disappointment, there's no denying the contented smile playing at your lips as you think about just how good he made you feel.

And really, who wouldn't be smiling after a night like this? You've had plenty of customers come through here looking for a good time before, but never has anyone left you feeling quite as satisfied as Shanks did.

You can only hope that it won't be too long until he comes by again…

#shanks smut #one piece smut #shanks x reader #red haired shanks #akagami no shanks #one piece

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wholoveseggs · 9 hours ago

Text

A Common Mistake

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x Elena Gilbert} Fresh from a breakup with Damon, Elena wants something simple. No complications, no emotions, just a distraction. But then she finds Elijah in her town, and there is nothing simple about wanting him.

♡♡ I've been re-watching tvd and decided to write a little thing about the ship that never was... This is my love letter to Elejah ~ ♡♡

7.6k words - Warnings: Smuttt, unresolved tension that finally snaps, fingering, oral (m+f receiving), vampire!Elena taking what she wants, set after their last encounter in Season 4, jealous Damon, Elijah being slightly protective, my heavy dislike for Damon shining through, post-Delena breakup clarity (Stelena forever, obviously), vampire face slipping out, Elijah thoroughly putting Damon in his place &&& jumpscare warning: Matt Donovan briefly mentioned.

Elena Gilbert wasn’t drunk. She wasn’t even tipsy. She had nursed a single drink all night, more focused on the atmosphere of the grill then on getting caught up in the buzz of alcohol. The gang had gone out for Matt’s birthday, and while the others were letting loose, Elena found herself restless. Detached.

She was sitting in a corner booth at the grill, between Damon and Stefan. Both of them had been vying for her attention all night, but she had eyes for another.

He wasn’t a part of the group, but seated at the bar with a drink in his hand. The way he was staring into the bottom of his glass, Elena could tell he was lost in thought.

Elijah Mikaelson, once her ally, once her enemy, now just a passing acquaintance. She hadn't seen him since he left Mystic Falls behind and moved to New Orleans.

He looked good, his hair a bit shorter, and his clothes a bit tighter. He was wearing a black button-down and slacks, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, giving him a relaxed, casual air. A rare form for him to be in.

"Earth to Elena," Damon’s voice cut through her thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"I asked if you want one more drink before we go?" He was gesturing toward her nearly empty glass.

"Yeah, thanks... Actually, I'll get it myself. I need to use the ladies' room anyway," she replied, ignoring the way he had his arm around the back of her seat, like he was expecting to leave with her.

The truth was, she didn’t want another drink, nor did she want to go home with either Salvatore… But she did want to talk to Elijah.

She grabbed her purse and slid out of the booth, heading to the bathroom. She fixed her lipstick and her hair, trying to keep her nerves under control.

There was so much left unsaid between her and the handsome original. So many things that she wanted to ask him, but she wasn't sure if she was ready for the answers.

She was still working through a bit of heartbreak with Damon, she knew just how toxic they had been together. She was afraid to dive into anything that even slightly resembled the relationship she had with him.

She didn’t want anything complicated, just a release, a catharsis. Something to help her truly move on… or at least distract her from her thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the bathroom door open, walking out into the dining area of the grill. It was packed with people, but she saw him still at the bar.

It wasn’t until she was nearly standing beside him that she realized how awkward this could be. Maybe he didn’t see her the way she saw him.

Still, she slid onto the barstool beside him, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. Up close, he smelled like bourbon and something distinctly him. Clean, expensive, understated. It was unfair how good he looked. How unbothered. How he just existed in the middle of the chaos of the grill, like none of it touched him.

She opened her mouth, then closed it. Second-guessing herself now felt ridiculous. She had already committed by sitting here.

“Hey, stranger.” she finally managed to get out.

Elijah lifted his head from where he had been staring into his drink. His eyes flicked to her, just for a second, before he turned to face her fully. Surprise flashed across his features, but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by something unreadable. A small, polite smile.

“Elena.” The way he said her name sent a ripple down her spine. “Are you enjoying your evening?”

She tried to ignore the way her pulse picked up. “I am. How about you?” She tilted her head slightly, feigning casual interest. “I haven’t seen you since…”

She trailed off. Since what, exactly? Since he left for New Orleans? Since she turned her humanity back on? Since… everything…

Elijah, of course, filled in the blanks for her. “Since we kissed, and then Katherine snapped your neck?” His voice was so smooth, so unbothered, that it took a second for the words to sink in.

Her stomach dropped. “I… um… yeah.”

Heat rose to her cheeks, and she instantly regretted coming over here.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Not quite mocking, but amused. “A rather unfortunate sequence of events.”

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “That’s one way to put it.”

A beat of silence passed. The air between them wasn’t awkward, but it was heavy, weighted down with too much unspoken history.

Elijah was watching her. Not in an obvious way, but in a way that made her feel like she was under a microscope. Like he was peeling back her layers, unraveling her thoughts before she even voiced them.

He swirled his drink before setting it down. “And how are you, Elena?”

She blinked. Something about the way he said it. In this low, intent way, like he actually wanted a genuine answer. It nearly threw her off balance.

She had far too much to drink for this.

“I’m… figuring things out,” she stuttered, the safest way to phrase it.

Elijah arched a brow, clearly unimpressed. “That’s rather vague.”

She huffed a quiet laugh, rubbing at the condensation on the bar with the tip of her finger. “Yeah, well, it’s been complicated.”

As if on cue, the complication came striding over, with all the confidence in the world. Damon slid into the stool next to her, and Elijah cracked the smallest of smiles.

She tried not to bristle, but her annoyance must have been clear. Because Damon glanced between them, and then back at her, his eyes narrowed slightly.

"I'm surprised to see you here Elijah, I heard you were thriving down in the Louisiana bayous," Damon said, his tone light and friendly, but Elena could detect a note of bitterness underneath.

"Yes, well, I needed a break. The humidity is a bit oppressive," Elijah's voice was smooth and polite.

"Well, maybe you should be getting back, wouldn't want your swamp friends to worry," Damon was baiting him, and Elena wanted to groan.

But Elijah wasn't one to be baited.

"No, perhaps not," He replied, his tone never shifting. "But the company here is far better,"

His eyes raked over Elena in such an obvious way, as though he was daring Damon to call him out. She was surprised when her face flushed, and her heart sped up. There was something about his intensity that set her on fire.

She watched as the two men stared at each other. Damon looked pissed and Elijah looked as calm as ever.

Damon leaned over, placing a hand on the small of her back. A move that she once would have loved, but now was over-familiar.

"Stop," she said softly, brushing away his hand.

Damon's brows drew together. "What?"

He stared at her, a little confused, and a little hurt. Pretending like they weren't on a serious break, that they weren't in a constant state of turmoil.

"I mean it, stop," She whispered, giving him a pleading look.

Elijah took in the scene with a quiet sort of amusement, but his sharp gaze didn’t miss a thing. The way Elena stiffened under Damon’s touch. The way her shoulders drew in slightly, like she was preparing for a fight she didn’t want to have. The way Damon.. all too predictably… wasn't going to let it go.

"Come on, ‘Lena. Let’s talk. You owe me that, don’t you?" Damon’s voice was lower now, coaxing, as if she was still the girl who would melt under his charm.

Elena’s lips parted, and for a moment, Elijah could see the old patterns creeping back in. The way Damon spoke to her like she was something fragile, like she needed saving. The hesitation. The wariness. The temptation to just give in to whatever Damon wanted because it was easier. He knew the feeling all too well…

"Elena has told you to stop. Twice." Elijah’s voice remained smooth, even, but there was an unmistakable edge now. "And yet, here you are, still pressing the matter. It’s rather embarrassing, don’t you think?"

Damon bristled. "I don’t need a lecture from you about my relationship, buddy."

Elijah smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "And yet, you’re receiving one."

Elena swallowed. She could feel the tension thrumming between them, thick enough to suffocate. Her first instinct was to step in, to smooth things over. But then she stopped herself. Because Elijah wasn’t wrong. Damon wasn’t listening. And honestly? She was tired of fighting this battle alone.

"Elijah’s right," she said softly, shifting slightly closer to Elijah. Damon’s eyes followed the movement like it was some sort of betrayal. "I told you to stop, Damon. And I mean it."

He let out a short, humorless laugh. "So what, you’re suddenly into him?" He gestured at Elijah like he was an offensive piece of furniture. "Come on, Elena. You can’t be serious."

Elijah chuckled, low and quiet. He was still leaning casually against the bar, still outwardly relaxed, but there was something in his posture that had shifted. Like a predator assessing whether his prey was still worth entertaining.

"Why do you assume your rejection must be about me?" he mused, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Rather than considering the possibility that Elena simply doesn’t want you here,"

Damon’s smirk vanished.

And for the first time that night, he had nothing to say.

Elijah smiled again, but this time, there was something sharper beneath it, his canines flashing. He turned slightly, just enough to look at Elena properly, and his eyes raked over her once more.

“Shall we order another drink?” he asked, his voice smooth, unbothered. "It seems you've earned one."

Elena hesitated, her mind still reeling from the confrontation. But she found herself nodding. “Yeah. I think I have.”

Damon exhaled sharply, like he wanted to argue, but instead, he stood and stormed off. Elena didn’t watch him leave.

Instead, she focused on Elijah, who gestured for the bartender.

The tension in her shoulders eased as he ordered for both of them. There was something stabilizing about him. No pressure, no expectation. Just quiet presence.

His silence stretched long enough that she glanced up, meeting his gaze. It was softer now, considering. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure how to start.

"Are you alright?" he asked finally.

Elena nodded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm okay."

“Damon is… not the easiest of men,” Elijah murmured, taking a sip of his drink.

Elena tensed slightly at the mention of Damon. Not because it was a sore subject. She had been expecting it… but because Elijah sounded like he understood her in a way that made her feel exposed.

“No, he’s not,” she admitted quietly. She hesitated before adding, “It wasn’t working. I think, deep down, I knew that for a while. I just… kept holding on.”

Elijah nodded, his history with Katherine wasn’t all that different.

“You deserved better,” he said simply.

The words hit harder than they should have. Maybe because when people said it before, it felt like an empty platitude. But from Elijah, it sounded like a fact. Like there was no argument to be had.

She swallowed. “That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”

“They’re not wrong.”

She didn’t know what to say to that, so she didn’t say anything at all.

Instead, she let herself look at him. Really look at him. He was different from when she first met him. A little more relaxed, a little less like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Or maybe he just hid it better. Either way, she had a deep urge to get to know this new side.

"So... How's Louisiana? Are you happy there?" She asked, trying to fill the silence.

Elijah hummed, taking a sip of his drink. "In a way, yes, I'm happier than I have been in a long time, I'm with my family, and it feels good to be home,"

"And in another way?" She pressed, she wanted to know more.

He sighed, "Everything is still as dysfunctional as ever. And while I'm grateful to have my siblings... Sometimes I need a break,"

Elena nodded, chuckling softly. "Yeah, I get that,"

Their conversation flowed, deepening into something unexpectedly familiar. The tension from earlier melted into a quieter, more charged atmosphere.

Elijah ordered her another drink, and they began to catch up, talking about nothing and everything. It was as though a crackle of electricity passed between them. They were close, not quite touching, but she could practically feel the heat radiating off his body.

"Would you like to go for a walk with me?" he asked, the corner of his mouth curving upward.

She nodded, sliding off her barstool. He did the same, his hand falling on the small of her back. This time, the touch was welcome.

For a moment, they stood there, like both of them were aware that things had changed. Things had escalated. A simple suggestion of a walk was more loaded than it should be.

She looked over at the table of her friends. Stefan looked like he had swallowed a lemon, Caroline and Bonnie were giggling and whispering behind their hands, and Matt had a confused expression.

She gave them an awkward smile and took Elijah's arm.

He led her out of the grill and across the street towards the town square. It was late and most of the shops had closed hours ago, the streets were empty.

"What were you thinking about when I walked up to the bar?" She asked as they strolled down the sidewalk.

“Oh, it was nothing,”

"Tell me." She nudged him with her shoulder.

"Very well. I was thinking of you." He chuckled, enjoying the blush that rose to her cheeks.

"Me?" She asked quietly.

"I'm afraid so." He teased, looking straight ahead.

"What about me?"

He sighed. “I was trying to understand why, even after all this time, I still can't shake the feelings I have for you.”

"Feelings?" Her heart pounded in her chest.

He chuckled and looked at the ground, shaking his head. "Forgive me. You are young and deserve the right to explore life without another old man pining for you."

"Old man?" She laughed, stopping and turning to face him.

"Relatively speaking." He smirked.

"You don't look a day over 35." She teased.

"How generous." He quipped, looking up at her from under his brow.

The smile slipped from her face as she stared back. His eyes held such an intensity, and he was so close. She could feel the warmth radiating off his body.

"You know... When we kissed that day… when you thought I was Katherine…. I felt something." She said quietly.

He didn't respond, he just watched her, waiting for her to continue.

"And... And that's when I didn’t want to feel anything. But you broke through." Her voice cracked slightly, the pain and guilt from that time of her life still haunted her.

He reached up, gently pushing a strand of hair out of her face. She didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into his touch.

"Maybe some things are meant to break through." He whispered.

His fingers ghosted over her cheek, hesitant and gentle. She wasn’t moving away. She wasn’t stopping him. When his thumb brushed over her skin, her breath hitched, her entire body locking in place. He was waiting. Giving her the choice to step away.

But she didn’t want to step away. She took the lead, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him down, pressing her lips to his.

He let out a soft hum of surprise, sliding his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. One of his hands moved to the back of her neck, guiding the kiss, deepening it.

Her fingers curled into his shirt as he guided her backwards until she hit a tree. He pressed her against the rough bark, his tongue slipping into her mouth, tasting her.

He surprised her with his assertion, it wasn't aggressive or demanding like Damon. Neither was it possessive and needy like Stefan. Elijah was gentle, yet firm, commanding, yet coaxing.

He didn’t overwhelm her, didn’t force her to keep up. Instead, he guided her, his fingers pressing into her waist, his body anchoring her to the tree like he was the only thing that could keep her standing.

She had never been kissed like this.

"Come home with me." He whispered against her lips, his breath tickling her skin.

She nodded, pulling back. Her pupils were blown wide, and her breathing was shallow. He gave her a soft smile and took her hand, pulling her off the tree and leading her down the street.

Neither of them said anything as they walked, but the anticipation was buzzing in the air. As though the very air around them was alive, encouraging them forward.

It was only a short drive to the home Elijah was occupying. It was located on the edge of town, surrounded by trees. It was quiet, peaceful.

Elena followed Elijah inside his house, shutting the door behind her. Her nerves were on fire, and she was buzzing with anticipation. She had sobered up a little on the drive over, but the rush of adrenaline and the sheer recklessness of this decision, kept her dizzy.

Elijah tossed his keys on the table and turned to face her. A soft smile played at his lips, his eyes dancing with amusement. He looked so at ease, while she felt like her heart was about to hammer out of her chest.

They stood across from each other. The moment stretched like a stand-off, neither of them willing to make the first move.

“Do you want a drink?” he offered, nodding toward the liquor cabinet.

Elena shook her head, swallowing hard. “No, I…uh-no.”

He chuckled, low in his throat. “What do you want then?”

The words hung in the air between them, the tension tightening around them like an invisible thread. Elena searched her brain, trying to think of the best way to answer. But the truth was, she wasn’t entirely sure. She just knew she didn’t want to be alone. Not tonight. She didn’t want to go home and lie awake, staring at the ceiling, thinking about Damon, thinking about Stefan, thinking about the endless cycle of love and loss that had defined her life for too long.

She was still figuring out who she was. A new vampire. A college student. Fresh out of two serious relationships that had left her drained in every way. She had spent years revolving around the Salvatores, making choices that felt inevitable, destined. And she was done with all of that, she needed freedom.

She didn’t want anything complicated. She didn’t want to fall into something that would require more of her. She just wanted to feel good.

Elijah watched her with quiet fascination. His expression was unreadable, but there was something behind his eyes. Something almost nostalgic.

He was thinking of Tatia, of Katherine. The way all three of them made that same expression when they were deep in thought. But he shook the thought away before it could take root. Elena certainly wasn’t Katherine. She wasn’t Tatia, either. He knew that better than most.

So what was he doing? He had told himself he wouldn’t seek her out, wouldn’t take advantage. He had made that mistake before, again and again, and he had no interest in repeating history.

And yet. Here she was.

And here he was, ready and willing to fall right into his old patterns.

His heart ached at how beautiful she looked, how painfully human despite what she had become. She was miles sweeter than Katherine, even Tatia. More real.

“To be clear,” he said, taking a step forward, his voice lower now, more serious. “When I ask you what you want, I mean exactly that. Don’t say what you think I want to hear.”

Elena shifted her weight from foot to foot, her pulse racing even though he wasn’t touching her. She had never had to ask for what she wanted before. Stefan had always just known. Damon had always taken the lead without her input.

But this was different. This was Elijah.

“I know what I don’t want,” she said finally. “I don’t want to be alone. I don't want to think. I don’t want…”

She trailed off, struggling to put it into words. She didn’t want a relationship. Didn’t want romance. Didn’t want the weight of expectations, the intensity of emotions that had defined every relationship in her life up until now. She was still trying to understand what her life was supposed to be now that it was endless.

She didn’t want another love story that would only end in blood and heartbreak.

Elijah studied her for a long moment, his gaze unreadable. Then, as if he had plucked the answer straight from her mind, he said,

“Attachment?”

She blinked, her eyes going wide. Relief flooded through her, but she couldn't help feeling embarrassed, vulnerable at how easily he seemed to see through her.

He chuckled at the expression on her face, the way her cheeks tinged pink. He looked down and adjusted his cufflinks, smiling to himself.

Then he reached out his hand.

Elena glanced down, hesitant. His palm was open, inviting, and when she took it, his grip was strong, sure. His eyes met hers, and for a second, she forgot to breathe. He didn’t speak, but he didn't have to. His intentions were written all over his face. He pulled her toward him, and her whole body lit up like a match.

She let out a soft squeak as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him. She barely had time to react before his lips were on hers.

This kiss was different from the one they had shared outside the grill. He seemed even more assured, more confident. A jolt of insecurity ran through her, she wondered if he would find her inadequate. It wasn't like she was some sort of sex goddess, and Elijah had probably been with more women than she could count.

He must have sensed her nervousness because he slowed, taking his time. His hands found hers, bringing them up to his chest, and holding them there, steady, reassuring.

When he pulled away, he searched her face.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, his voice soft, almost tender. "Don't be nervous."

Elena swallowed, her breath hitching as warmth spread through her chest. She wanted to respond, to say something clever, but her lips parted uselessly. Instead, she exhaled shakily, blinking up at him.

A slow, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Good," he murmured, his voice a low hum against her skin. He leaned in and pressed his lips to her neck.

Elena closed her eyes, letting her head fall back. Her nerves vanished as his lips found her jaw, his stubble a teasing scrape against her skin.

Then he stepped back, taking her by the hand and leading her upstairs. The bedroom was large and dimly lit, the bed was massive. The sheets looked expensive, crisp and clean.

She took a tentative step forward, keeping her hand in his, their fingers intertwined.

He smiled softly, letting his thumb trace a lazy circle on her skin. Then he gently tugged her towards him, and she stumbled forward, her free hand flying to his chest, steadying herself. The heat rose in her cheeks, and Elijah enjoyed her surprised expression. His hands moved down her sides to the bottom of her dress, his fingers curling around the hem, slowly lifting it up, letting his knuckles brush over her thighs.

Her hands moved up to his shoulders, her fingers working on the top buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one. They were both quiet, the air crackling with tension as Elijah watched her slowly unbutton his shirt. She ran her hands over his exposed chest, enjoying the patch of hair and the hard muscle beneath her palms.

He slowly lifted her dress over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She wore nothing but a lacy, white bra and a pair of matching panties. Elijah had the fleeting but completely irrational thought that she was an angel. So beautiful, so delicate, yet somehow, he could already tell, she would burn brighter than any sun.

He pulled off his opened shirt, and she moved onto his belt. He watched her fumble before she managed to remove it, then she slid her hands into his waistband, tugging down his pants. They fell around his ankles, and he stepped out of them. He was still wearing his underwear, but it did little to hide his erection. She didn't want to stare, but she couldn't help herself. He was... well endowed, and she felt her nerves start to rise again.

He didn't give her a chance to overthink, instead, he pulled her to the bed, pressing her down on the soft mattress, his body on top of hers. She ran her hands over his skin, exploring his chest, his arms, the hard planes of his back. Elijah let her explore, her curiosity was sweet, and it stirred something in him that he had not felt in a very long time.

She wrapped her legs around him, her hands weaving through his hair, tugging gently. He let out a low growl and reached behind her back, unhooking her bra, tugging it off, throwing it on the floor.

Elena's nipples were hard, and her breathing was shallow. He took one in his mouth, gently sucking and rolling the other one with his fingers. She let out a small moan, arching her back, pushing her breasts further into his mouth.

Elijah hummed and switched his attention to the other breast. He reached down and slowly pulled off her panties, tossing them somewhere behind him. Smiling as his hands roamed over her, sliding over her thighs, squeezing her ass, hooking her leg around his waist.

She let out a breathy sigh as his hand moved between her legs, teasing her, sliding two fingers inside her.

Her fingers dug into his biceps, her eyes locked with his. He watched the way her vampiric nature took over, the whites of her eyes growing dark, her veins pulsing beneath the surface of her skin.

"You're such a pretty little vampire," he whispered, leaning down and pressing his lips to hers. "Let me see all of you."

She moaned and her fangs slowly appeared, her eyes shifting, turning black and red.

He smirked and nipped at her lip, drawing blood. She gasped, and he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, tasting the metallic sweetness.

He continued to finger her, slow and steady, enjoying the way her walls clenched around him. His thick fingers filling her, stretching her, making filthy wet noises that made her blush.

"You like that, don't you?" he teased, his thumb rubbing her clit in a slow circular motion. "I can feel how wet you are. How your body keeps trying to pull me in deeper."

Her eyes fluttered shut, and her mouth dropped open as she started rocking her hips, trying to grind against his hand. He kept the pressure firm and consistent, the pleasure building.

"’lijah..." She moaned, her voice breaking. "That feels so good..."

Elijah chuckled, his eyes never leaving her face. He added another finger and watched her squirm.

"Look at me," he whispered.

Her eyes flew open, and she stared up at him. The black of her eyes nearly consumed her irises, the veins in her face protruded. It was a beautiful sight, the contrast of her innocence and her dark nature. He was enraptured by it.

"There you go," he murmured, his pace never wavering.

He curled his fingers and she gasped, her body tensing, her walls tightening around his fingers. She was getting close. He leaned down and kissed her and she moaned. Her hands grabbed at his face, deepening the kiss, tasting him. He kept the pressure constant, the pace steady, and her body responded. She went rigid, her muscles clenching as she came.

"Oh,." she cried, her voice trailing off into a strangled moan.

Elijah didn't stop. Instead, he kept his fingers buried inside her, kissing down her body. With his free hand he lifted her thighs, draping her legs over his shoulders, burying his face between her legs.

Elena's eyes went wide, her body trembling, and she tried to scramble backwards, away from his mouth. The sensations overwhelming. But he held her in place, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her closer and she melted under his tongue.

He slowly began to lick and suck at her, his tongue dipping in and out of her. He worked her over until she was a writhing mess beneath him. She had never been so thoroughly eaten out, and the intensity of it was making her dizzy.

His fingers still pumped in and out of her, and he could feel her starting to get close again. She was practically gushing around him, her arousal dripping down his chin

She grabbed at his hair, her body bucking against him, her back arching. Her orgasm came on like a wave, and she rode it out, her toes curling, legs trembling.

When the tremors finally stopped, Elijah sat up, wiping his mouth and smirking down at her. Her face was crimson, her breathing ragged. He couldn't remember ever seeing anything more beautiful. He would be more than happy to spend the entire night with his head buried between her legs, listening to her moan and cry.

Elena was still panting, her brain still foggy. Her legs were shaking, her muscles aching, and she was certain her bones had melted.

Her breathing evened out as he kissed his way back up her body, stopping to nip at her stomach, her breasts, her neck. The thought of him being inside her made her clench with anticipation. But she couldn't possibly let him fuck her before returning the favor. Elena was not a selfish lover in the slightest.

She sat up, putting her hands on his chest, and pushing him backward, guiding him onto his back. He raised an eyebrow but complied, leaning back against the headboard, watching her.

"Can I...?" she started, her eyes shifting down to his lap.

Elijah followed her gaze and chuckled.

"You don't have to, Elena." He said softly, the way her name rolled off his tongue was almost sinful.

"But I want to," she murmured as she leaned over him, her lips brushing his, her fingers moving down his abdomen, dipping into the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down.

He hissed as his erection sprang free, the cool air hitting his hot skin. Elena swallowed, trying to ignore the rush of nervousness, and gently took his cock in her hand.

With Stefan and Damon, she had always enjoyed going down on them, loved the way it made her feel powerful, loved making her partner feel good. She felt a little more confident about this, and was eager to impress Elijah.

Her eyes met his as she leaned forward, taking the tip into her mouth. He inhaled sharply, his fingers tangling in her hair, tugging her closer.

She started to bob her head up and down, her hand following the rhythm of her mouth as she worked him deeper. Elijah groaned, his fingers tightening in her hair as his hips jerked forward, pushing his cock further into her throat.

She gagged, a choked sound escaping before she pulled back, swallowing hard. Elijah exhaled sharply, his grip easing as his thumb brushed over her cheek in silent apology.

"Sorry," he murmured, his voice rougher now. "Got carried away."

She let out a breathless laugh, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

"It’s fine," she assured him, flashing him a teasing grin. "I like it when you get carried away."

His eyes darkened at that, the muscle in his jaw flexing.

"Do you?" he asked, his voice softer now, more intent.

She didn’t answer. At least not with words.

Instead, she gripped his thigh for balance and took him back into her mouth, this time with even more eagerness, relaxing her throat as she let him use her as much as he pleased. His eyes were fixed on her, watching as her lips slid up and down his length,sucking and licking expertly. He was impressed, she wasn't as timid as he would have expected.

He did his best not to compare her lips to Katherine's, but it was difficult considering they shared a face. Katherine was wild, aggressive, assured. Like she needed to prove a point. With Elena, it was different.

There was a sense of playfulness, of exploration. She was curious, and her enthusiasm was evident. Elena had her own way of doing things, she was so gentle and sweet, her movements careful and deliberate.

He found her to be incredibly sensual, the way her fingers brushed over his skin, the way she looked up at him through her lashes, the way her tongue flicked over the tip of his cock. He was lost in her.

He closed his eyes and groaned, his hands gently tugging on her hair, guiding her rhythm. She hummed in response, her throat vibrating around him.

"Elena," he groaned, her name sounding like a prayer.

His head fell back, and he bit his lip, holding himself together, his muscles tensing.

Elena's hand reached out, taking hold of his thigh. She could feel his muscles straining, his pulse quickening. She knew he was close. She increased her pace, bobbing her head up and down, her nails digging into his skin.

Elijah groaned, and his hands fisted in her hair, his body tense. Then he gasped, his grip tightening as his cum spilled down her throat. She swallowed eagerly, milking every last drop. When he stopped, she released him, wiping her mouth, grinning.

He was breathing heavily, his eyes dark and glassy. She smiled up at him, kissing along his lower stomach, making her way up his body. When she reached his lips, she leaned down and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around her, rolling her underneath him, deepening the kiss.

Her body was so soft and warm, fitting perfectly underneath him. He was going to make sure not to waste this moment, to commit every inch of her skin to memory.

They just kissed for a while, Elijah's fingers tracing patterns on her skin as they became tangled in the sheets, their limbs entwined. There was a charge in the air. A crackling fire. Something neither of them had felt before. Something primal, yet comforting. And neither wanted it to end.

Elena broke the kiss, giggling softly.

"What is it?" he asked, smiling, his thumb tracing over her bottom lip.

"Nothing," she murmured, looking down. "I just didn't think you would be so... sweet."

Elijah arched a brow, smirking.

"And what did you think I would be like?"

She blushed and bit her lip.

"I'm not sure," she said. "I guess I expected you to be a bit... rougher."

He grinned and shook his head, leaning in and kissing her again. His hands moved down her sides to her hips, pulling her against him aggressively, making her gasp.

"I enjoy plenty of things, sweetheart," he whispered against her lips. "But tonight, I just want to savor you."

Elijah wasn't the type to boast. At least not about private matters. But he had been with enough women to know when someone enjoyed his company. And Elena was enjoying herself very much. He could tell by the way her pupils dilated, how her breaths were short, her chest rising and falling faster. He knew just how much of an effect he had on her, and it made him want her even more.

"Is that agreeable?" he asked teasingly, his lips brushing over hers.

Elena nodded and giggled again, her sweet little laugh filling his chest with warmth. He returned her smile, nudging her nose with his, nipping at her bottom lip.

His hands traced over her sides, slow and reverent, as if mapping the shape of her to memory. His lips hovered over hers, close enough that their breaths mingled, the space between them charged with something heavier than desire.

"Are you sure?" he murmured, softer this time. Not teasing, not testing her. Just asking.

Elena swallowed, her fingers curling deeper into his hair, anchoring herself to him. "Yes," she whispered, barely audible, but unwavering.

Elena parted her legs wider, drawing him in, her body welcoming his without a second thought. He exhaled sharply as he eased into her, slow and deliberate, filling her inch by inch. A quiet, breathless gasp slipped from her lips as she stretched around him, and his forehead pressed against hers, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Like he needed to focus, to feel this.

Like he needed to memorize this.

He rolled his hips experimentally, and they moaned in unison. Soft, drawn-out sounds that melted into the heated space between them. Their eyes met, and for a fleeting second, nothing else existed.

His hands found hers, pinning them to the mattress beside her head, interlacing their fingers. The intimacy of it made her blush, and she had to fight the urge to pull away. It wasn't that she didn't like it, or that it didn't feel right. It was because she didn't mean for this to feel intimate. This was supposed to be casual, meaningless.

But Elena's body betrayed her, her heart pounding in her ears, her moans were high and breathy. Her skin felt hot, and her hands gripped his, her hips bucking up to meet his thrusts.

Elijah's eyes never left her face. His pace was steady, unhurried. He was in no rush, and the prolonged intimacy was making her dizzy. She felt her pleasure slowly mount, the pressure building between her legs.

This was so different from sex with her past partners. With Stefan, it was passionate and intense. It was always an emotional exchange. Their bodies connected as much as their souls.

And with Damon, it was rough, almost animalistic. He was hungry, greedy. His teeth and tongue biting and sucking and licking. A feral storm of lust and need would always erupt between them.

But this was something new entirely. This was sensual, slow, and patient. This was a lover's dance, a delicate give and take. And she was completely overwhelmed.

"Elena," he whispered, the tone of his voice causing her to clench around him.

"Elijah," she gasped.

He leaned down and kissed her deeply, his tongue slipping past her parted lips.

"I know," he said, breaking the kiss. "Me too."

He held her gaze, his expression soft, affectionate. Loving in a way that frightened her.

She felt her climax approaching, and her legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper. He let her lead, his movements slow, deliberate. His thumb stroking her knuckles, his eyes never leaving her face.

Her body trembled as her orgasm ripped through her. She let out a small, choked gasp, and she could feel her walls spasm around his cock.

He grunted, his grip tightening, his movements growing sloppy. His lips found hers, his tongue tangling with hers. She could feel his orgasm building, and she clung to him, riding out her own.

His pace became uneven, his hips thrusting erratically, his breath coming in short gasps. Then he groaned, burying his face in her neck, his release spilling inside her.

Elena was breathing heavily, her body trembling. She was surprised when he didn't pull out immediately. Instead, he stayed buried inside her, his face still buried in her neck. She could feel him still twitching, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around him.

After a moment, Elijah shifted, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that took her breath away. She could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and he was still holding her hands.

His fingers slowly untangled from hers, and he eased out of her, rolling onto his back next to her. She moved towards him, laying beside him, resting her head on his chest and looking up at him. His hair was disheveled, his eyes half-closed, his breathing heavy. She had never seen him look so unkempt, so relaxed.

Elena watched him for a few moments, taking in the sight of him. Then she let out a laugh, burying her face in his chest, her body shaking with giggles.

"What's so funny?" he asked, running his fingers through her hair.

"Just thinking about how we met," she murmured, lifting her head to meet his gaze.

He smirked. "Ah, yes. I tried to kidnap you. And your boyfriends killed me," he said dryly, heavily emphasizing the word 'boyfriends'.

Elena rolled her eyes and slapped his chest playfully. "Technically, I've killed you too."

"And technically," he countered, arching a brow, "you did so under duress."

"Still," she mused, trailing her fingers over his chest. "I thought you were terrifying. So sophisticated and unreadable. And now I’m…"

She trailed off, suddenly aware of how intimate this was. She was in his bed, draped over him, her body still thrumming with the aftershocks of what they had just done. He was looking at her like he had no intention of moving anytime soon.

Elijah’s expression was still unreadable, but his eyes held something softer now. Something patient.

"And now?" he prompted gently.

Elena swallowed. "N-now I know you better."

She was falling. This was supposed to be a one-time thing. Casual sex, no strings attached. No emotions involved. But, damn. He was just too easy to get lost in.

It wasn’t quite the truth. It wasn’t quite a lie, either. Behind his serious, stoic exterior was this side of him that she couldn't stop thinking about. Underneath the suits, the power plays, and being in the most threatening family on the planet... Was a man with a big heart. A man who loved his family fiercely, who carried the weight of centuries with quiet grace. A man who could be tender, gentle, and funny. A man who kissed like he was savoring every second. Who made her feel…Too much.

She hesitated, then exhaled softly, her fingers tracing idle patterns against his skin. "I think..." she paused, biting her lip. "I think I don't want this night to end."

The confession passed her lips before she could stop it, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. But Elijah only smiled, his hand cupping her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek.

"Neither do I," he murmured.

Elena’s breath hitched. Her eyes flickered to his lips, then back to his.

"Wasn't this supposed to be a one-time thing?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He let out a long sigh, his gaze wandering over her body before meeting her eyes.

"New Orleans is my home. And Mystic Falls is yours. But…" He exhaled, his fingers tracing along her jawline. "Perhaps there’s still room for… something in between."

Elena's eyes lit up. "You mean…?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I'm not exactly the best at casual flings." His cheeks colored slightly, a rare flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. "But maybe we can see how things go. No pressure. No expectations."

She beamed up at him, and he chuckled before kissing her, slow and deep. She melted into him, arms draping around his neck, like she already belonged there.

"I'd like that," she murmured against his lips.

He hummed and pulled her closer, kissing her deeper. She sighed, her hands tangling in his hair.

They spent the rest of the night talking, teasing, kissing. Falling into each other again and again, until sleep finally stole them away.

As the sun rose, Elijah woke to find Elena curled up beside him, her head on his chest, their legs intertwined. For a long moment, he simply watched her, listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing. He had expected her to leave before dawn, to slip away like a fleeting dream, but she was still here. Still tangled up in him.

A slow smile tugged at his lips as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. She looked so peaceful, so at ease.

He could get used to this.

The thought hit him harder than expected, and he forced himself to push it aside. No expectations, he had said. No pressure. But with her still curled up beside him, it felt like a lie.

Elena stirred, her nose scrunching slightly as she let out a soft sigh. Then, her eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep. She blinked up at him, her lips curving into a lazy smile.

"You're staring," she murmured, her voice soft and quiet.

"Observing," he corrected, his fingers tracing idle patterns along her back.

She hummed, nuzzling closer. "I like waking up like this… This feels… nice."

"Nice?" he repeated, amused.

"Yeah," she stretched against him, her body molding to his. "No drama, no chaos. Just… this."

Elijah exhaled slowly, he understood exactly what she meant.

"And how long," he mused, "do you suppose this peace will last?"

Elena smirked, tilting her chin up to kiss him. "I don’t know. But I’m not thinking about that right now."

He let out a low hum of agreement, pulling her closer. He told himself he should follow her lead. Stay in the present, keep things simple.

No expectations, no pressure.

But as she melted against him, her warmth sinking into his skin, Elijah already knew.

This was never going to be just one night.

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kashimos-hajime · 3 days ago

Text

—heat | s.r.

summary: “you may not be looking for a boyfriend, but maybe the boyfriend’s looking for you."

pairing: suna rintarou x reader

a/n: y/ns pov from the 2nd half of last chapter :) | part of the undateable series

masterlist

Finishing your last stretch, you collapse to the ground, groaning. Your ribs are still flaring, trying to get a good grasp of your lungs from the run you just finished. Summer, despite how much you want to like it, is most certainly your least favourite season, and you want to shuffle back into the cooler school building, but you also can’t help how pleasant the sun feels on your skin.

Across the way, you watch as the group of boys in their homeroom congregate, waiting for the period to end as you sip absently on your bottle. Among them stands a tall boy, lean and effortlessly cool as he fans himself with the front of his shirt. He stands unbothered by the sun, if only betrayed by the slight glare when the sunlight streams through his pale eyes. You look away, bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

The one thing you know is that Suna Rintarou confuses you. He’ll do these tiny things; lend you his math notes, run errands for Osamu (your favourite twin) but not for Atsumu (your most horrid annoyance), and wear earplugs during practice on Thursday after they’ve had music lessons because the sound of trumpets and clarinets all blaring squeaky notes gets grating, yet he’ll take one out when you have something to say to him.

He’ll walk you to the gym when they coincidentally leave homeroom at the same time, and then he’ll act like he doesn’t know you the next time you speak to him.

Which maybe he doesn’t. Aquarium birthday party aside, you don’t know Suna Rintarou any more than you did at the end of last year.

It’s silly. You hadn’t even thought about that day by the glass tank, when he had leaned in close enough that maybe, you’d thought that—

No. You haven’t obsessed over that day since…

Well, since Suna started being nice to you and brought all that back.

Is that why? you wonder wildly to yourself, trying to focus on the sun and not on the boy standing a few feet away.

Mina flaps her towel aggressively, trying to cool herself down, and the sounds of her self-deprecating noises make your lips curl into a smile, distracts you from him, all six feet and some change tall, dark hair, long, long legs... “I can’t go back inside sweating 'cause all the boys might see, but it’s so damn hot I can't stop! My prospects’ll go down drastically, ugh, this is so frustrating. Can you pass me your water bottle?”

“Your prospects'll go down,” you echo, bemused, doing as she asks. Mina scowls at you, snatching your bottle and dampening her towel, patting it on her brow. “Is that so?”

“Yes! It’s not like I can ask Kento-san to the festival.”

“Why not?” You reach for another sip of your water bottle and chew on the top absently. “I thought you liked him.”

“I do, but… he lives far away. And he didn’t ask me to be his girlfriend.”

“Oh. But you guys see each other pretty often.”

“But he hasn’t asked,” she emphasizes, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Your eyes start drifting again, and when you realize they fixate on a boy stretching further down the track, you jolt, putting down your water and leaning back, forcing yourself to stare up at the sky. There’s barely a cloud in the sky. You sigh. “Why go out with me if you don’t want me to be your girlfriend?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s scared.”

“Scared?” she demands. “Why would he be scared?”

You open an eye to look at her, frowning thoughtfully. “Because you know what you want,” you say. “And he doesn’t. Help me up, would you?”

Mina nudges your thigh with her foot, but when you don’t budge, she sighs, pulls her towel around her neck, and reaches down to pull you up. “You’re so lazy.”

Getting to your feet, you adjust the towel around your own shoulders when Mina grabs your hand, catching your attention.

“Hey. Suna’s walking over.”

“What?”

Twisting around, you blink when you come face to face with Suna Rintarou standing before you, his shadow barely blocking the sun arching high above them. He doesn’t even look like he wants to be there, staring through you, and you stand straighter, suddenly aware of the way every part of your gym uniform is sticking to your back, your sweat gathering beneath your breasts.

He doesn’t talk at first, just stands there with his hands shoved beneath his waistband, and you glance at Mina, whose eyes widen as if to say I don’t know, for a moment before tentatively asking: “Did you need something, Suna?”

“Nope,” he says. “Do you wanna go out with me?”

You blink. Once. Twice. Stare at him and wonder if you’ve misheard. When you run, your hearing goes a little fuzzy as your blood starts roaring in your ears, and you can mistake even the simplest of sentences, so maybe it’s that? Maybe you’re still suffering from being forced to run laps around the track all in the sake of being ‘healthy’.

You open your mouth, running his words over your head, but when you manage to find your voice, it comes out horrible. Janky, awkward, rude in the way you say, “What are you talking about?”

“Date.” Like that explains everything. “For the festival at the end of the month.”

You laugh nervously, hoping he can’t hear the way your heart is beating like a marching drum against your ribs. “Are you terminally ill?”

His (handsome) face is smeared by a scowl, but even that is attractive. It’s a thin, smooth line, cold and unimpressed, and the way he speaks makes you feel stupid. “No.”

It must be a joke somehow, right? Was he dared to do this? Suna… doesn’t even like you. You’re pretty sure he barely tolerates you, and even if he did, it’s certainly not to the point that he would ask you out. You clench your jaw. It’s not like… you haven’t said yes before to a date to someone you didn’t know too well. It’s not like Suna’s stupid or rude or ugly. Quite the opposite.

But it’s because it’s him that you feel the answer shooting up your throat like a bullet. You don’t know where you stand with Suna Rintarou, and you don’t want to lose your footing, but if you say yes, you’re scared that if it doesn’t go well, your place in the Inarizaki volleyball gym will turn into your own personal hell.

But he knows that. He must know that.

So why did he even ask?

Your shoes shift, and you feel a little weak at the ankles.

A dare. It must be a dare. Date the Undateable.

You could’ve laugh, if it didn’t make your heart wilt and sink in your chest.

“Then, no.” You need to get out of here. Stepping around him, you try not to focus on how heavy your own feet feel. If you trip now, you might never show your face anywhere again. “No, thanks.”

You push yourself towards the school. Hope the teacher doesn't call you out for leaving early. Mina catches up to you, her hands coming around your arm, and it feels strangely cold as you glance at her.

“That was so weird,” she exclaims, squeezing your bicep. As they walk, the road feels bumpy. With every step, the toe of your shoes keeps dragging along the asphalt, and you glance over your shoulder to see him staring. The blood rushes to your head. You press closer to Mina. “I mean, people always ask him out, but he’s never asked someone out.”

“Mhm.” Trying not to look as shaken as you feel, you push a smile onto your face. "Definitely a first."

"But at least he's cute, and smart. And he's fit." Mina giggles. "Why did you say no?"

"I told you, I’m not really looking for a boyfriend right now.”

Your best friend hums, brushing her hair over her shoulder in a long, dark wave. It catches the sunlight, and so do her pretty brown eyes, and you think the boy, Kento or whatever his name is, is stupid. “You may not be looking for a boyfriend,” she says, grinning at you, “but maybe the boyfriend’s looking for you. And if it’s Suna Rintarou, I don’t think you have good odds of escaping.”

You blink, mouth opening to argue, but she only grabs your hand and hastens her step, pulling you along. “Mina—”

“Come on! Let’s get back to the change room before the others so we have more time to freshen up.”

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hestzhyen · 2 days ago

Text

Chapter 70 Whelmed Posting

Subdued entry this time, dear void. And I'm back to form with a way-too-long yapfest.

Scans are too potato for me to TL the editor's notes this week, sorry. Might revisit when I can get a clean copy of the JP version.

TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter mentions a very sensitive topic happening in canon (toned down in EN) and I will be talking about it near the end. I'll have another warning reminder for those who'd rather skip that part.

White Purity Mechanics and a GILF(?)

Helloooo handsome.

Wasn't expecting to see this guy yet or get detailed mechanics for how the sword style he founded works in the middle of a fight, but hey, it's fine. I guess. Awkward time for that lore dump but powerscalers will surely be happy. I'm interested in the details myself as a world-building nerd.

Short summary of his name here: Shirakai Itsuo (白廻逸夫), the master of the White Purity style. 白廻 (shirakai) could be roughly translated as "white game" and 逸夫 (itsuo) could be idle/elusive husband lol. At the very least, shira (白) means "white" so that's most likely where that part of the technique's name came from.

As for the rest of it...

居合白禊流 - read as Iai Byaku Gei Riyuu 居合 (Iai) is obvious, that's the type of move being executed here. We know that Byaku comes from the On reading of 白 [shira, "white"]. What are the last two? 禊 is misogi, a Shinto purification ritual; it also means ritual purification or ablutions in general, and/or "...the Japanese mountain ascetic* practice of ritual purification" (thanks, Wikipedia). 流 [riyuu] is simply "school" of method.

Anyway, Hokazono-sensei hit us in the face with a wall of technical terms for how this school works and I had to admit defeat until someone I trusted translated the yap page for it... dear God. Surely the official release will not mangle anything so I won't have to bother that friend for help with TL notes.

I've been thinking that Chihiro is essentially a DPS guy out of the "holy trinity" (DPS, Support, Tank) for a bit now. He's always been about hitting fast and hard without much room for error on his part if he unexpectedly gets hit in return. Thank you, Shirakai, for proving this dumb pet theory correct. Gotta Go Fast: The Move is all about being the fastest guy in the room because if you hit them first then they can't hit you back, right?

The difficulty of mastery part is pretty standard shounen to me in order to explain why someone can't just teach Chihiro how to use it the normal way. Two 18-year-olds picked up the style on their own fairly easily, so while I know we're supposed to see that as proof of how talented those guys are, it's not really anything special to me as a reader. It's unconventional and hard to use because it needs to be for the story more than anything else.

The real meat of this explanation was how changing the grip of the sword on the fly so quickly is ackshully a metaphor for being able to change your mindset. We are continuing the old vs. new themes with the sword style directly now, since Shirakai was mocked for trying to perfect this impracticably difficult Iai move. But the "new" won out in the end since he got the last laugh over all of his detractors. His distraction-free, flexible quick thinking outdid every traditional master that faced him, or so we can infer.

Shame the second coming of this fight left me wholly unimpressed outside of Iori.

(*If you don't want to look it up, then "ascetic" is similar to "austere" in meaning and is specifically for strict self-denial mostly for religious discipline, but can apply for personal discipline too.)

"Whatever," the Fight and Iori

All I could think of during this scene was the two of them chilling awkwardly as pleasant background music played.

I'm not really sold on this fight, honestly. All I'm thinking right now is "good, now that it's over maybe we can go back to the interesting stuff". The poses were cool and all but the theme just isn't hitting. We flew through the buildup to this confrontation and all we got out it was Chihiro winning again despite us being reminded that he's tired, pushing himself too hard, and that Hiruhiko's coming in much fresher and scarier after killing the master of a style.

Kagurabachi's biggest strength was doing character development, exploring core themes, and having sick fights at the same time. But ever since we took a sudden swing into this Iori subplot I've felt like the author is trying to speed run it as fast as possible.

Everything through chapter 59 was awesome. We took the time to introduce characters, set up plot points, threats, and motives, had spectacle fights to get insight into Chihiro's mindset- all the same great stuff that we'd all come to expect. Then we put all that on the back-burner for something related-but-different that wasn't exactly a welcome surprise.

The author primed us for Seitei War reveals and examining guilt as part of legacy. Then the he snapped our necks 90 degrees to witness this sideshow with geniuses, old vs. new, and another thematic foil to Chihiro. Iori was meant to glue this all together and strongly connect it to the main plot we left behind in chapter 59 but it didn't work. She's just a well-designed narrative device instead of a character and I'm still waiting for this stuff to finish so we can go back to what I thought the main event was.

And yet.

She did her best to save this arc.

I do love Iori. She's defending without killing, doing just enough to disfinger her enemies and get them out of the fight. Thanks to her example, Chihiro is able to choose a path that doesn't necessarily involve killing Hiruhiko to win. Yeah the clown is probably still going to be around (sadly for me), just hopefully in a less carnival side-show capacity and more as a proper enemy. Maybe even an object for redemption...

But this is probably going to be the foundation for Chihiro being able to redeem himself from guilt- choosing when to kill instead of thinking of it as the default option. She showed him the best swordplay comes from stilling the mind and heart to attack the reason the enemy bares their fangs, not necessarily slay them. Killing the reason they hold a sword is as effective as killing them but without all the murder stuff. Staying tuned to see if/when this comes back.

The Warning Section

Skip this if Hiruhiko's backstory reveal is not something you want to see a yap about.

The EN version toned it down but the JP and apparently some other languages are explicit. Let Hakuri protect you if you'd rather not read about a slightly different version of "assault"...

Hakuri buffer image for safety (it's super effective).

Alright. For anyone still here...

The FUCK was that about in Japanese?

In case the EN tones it down (bet they will): in the OG Japanese, the language used is very explicit: 手篭にしようと迫る成人男性を噛み殺した昼彦にとって

手篭め [tegome] is literally "rape/violation" and doesn't have any other connotations than what it says on the tin. So yeah. In canon, Hiruhiko was SA'd at 3 years old.

I'm very sensitive about how backstories involving CSA are used for personal reasons. The way it was used here for Hiruhiko did just about everything wrong, in my opinion. Completely wiped out the goodwill I had towards the author after how Hakuri's backstory was handled during the Rakuzaichi arc.

reinforced the stereotype of being SA'd as a child = deeply damaged/dangerous later in life

same-sex SA reinforced men as predators AND homophobic stereotypes

added with no context or buildup just for the easy shock value and pity points

I'm not okay with this at all. The nicest thing I can say is that it's used to explain the feral, bloodthirsty part of his nature and not the social ineptitude (which is probably a personality quirk and/or related to how he was raised). He's twisted but in a way that leans more towards empowerment through activating his survival instincts. Still not at all appreciated though.

100% of my hatred for this comes from my own struggles I'll admit. To see them reflected this poorly in a series I adore by an author I trusted to handle sensitive topics with care really did a number on me. I expected better from the author than to rely on negative stereotypes for this sort of thing and clearly I was wrong. That's my fault and I know better now.

It's fine to use CSA as part of a character's backstory but it needs to be treated with far more care than it was here.

If this had been applied to Chihiro, Hakuri, Iori, or any of the good guys instead I feel like it would have been fine. To show that even if it happens to you, it doesn't make you a bad person who can't function safely around others.

It also would have been fine if it was to show Hiruhiko's a true survivor that needed some help he probably didn't get afterwards- and that's what led him to be the freak he is. If Hiruhiko isn't dead after this chapter there's still time to get into that aspect, maybe even make a point that proper support makes all the difference in a person's outcomes after that kind of trauma. But even if that is the intent, dropping that sort of event without context is a terrible move.

To compare to other traumatic character backstories... basically, Hiruhiko's debut hint doesn't match up with the traumatic event behind it at all.

Chihiro

Give this boy all the hugs he can tolerate.

We see this early in chapter 2 and it's not really a surprise, since the premise of the story is that Chihiro is walking the bloody road of revenge. Something traumatic clearly happened to Kunishige due to the timeskip to "every morning I wake up with fresh hatred" Chihiro meeting Shiba alone on the train in chapter 1, so we were primed for this sort of thing. Batman origin story and all that.

Char

Protect her at all costs.

Char clued us in early on by appearing as a scruffy orphan in her debut chapter- whatever happened to her was not exactly pleasant. From there we slowly learned how she and her mom were experimented on, then separated forever. The logical flow of meeting her, seeing what happened, then watching Chihiro set her on the path to healing made sense. Thankfully she's going to be OK and she will never, ever have anything bad happen to her again (so help me God).

Hakuri

Someone give him all the love he's never had PLEASE.

I already wrote eight thousand words about how Hakuri's traumatic backstory was portrayed in a very realistic and hard-hitting way. The second thing we learn about him being that he "lost his family" five years ago while he's dripping soda out of his mouth on his lonesome was a good clue as to what happened, even if he and the author buried the lede on exactly how that happened and how bad he had it. He lost their love, twisted and manipulative as it was, and endured literal torture to try and earn it back until Ice Lady's suicide snapped him out of it. I honestly can't praise the writing for this character enough.

Iori

She chose her own path in the end...

Being dropped on us out of nowhere as Samura's daughter that everyone's forgotten about wasn't exactly a welcome surprise. But at least it let us know that she's got some difficult circumstances- which could have been expected since she's the daughter of the current arc boss to beat, but still. Her home was trashed and her dad abandoned her and we probably have more to see now that she's remembered everything. But all the reveals so far have been in line with the kind of trauma we'd expect to see given how she was introduced.

Hiruhiko

"Let's be friends, fellow murderer."

And then there's this guy.

Hakuri's the closest comparison to Hiruhiko in presentation with all the understatement going on. But we spent his intro to chapter 24 getting hints that there's something wrong with him that he wasn't talking about. Then we got context for his suicidal jump immediately afterwards, as well as even more hints that his issues go deeper than we've seen.

Hiruhiko's backstory had no build up to the reveal that he was SA'd as a toddler. We only knew he was a freaky, poorly socialised guy the same age as Chihiro who killed at the age of 3. Making us ask what circumstances would force and enable him to do such a thing was good- that's a decent hook to keep us interested in what his deal is while the immediate stuff is going on. Hokazono did it for all the other characters in this list too.

What flopped was the shocker reveal. That single line of "oh, he was assaulted by an adult man, anyway-" was pathetically delivered if it was meant to be an example of understatement. You cannot drop a heavy and sensitive backstory with no follow up. You cannot have it done by the omniscient narrator to launch into why he's such a battle genius.

The biggest problem really is that it's a convenient explanation more than something to explore like every other character's trauma was. When we got those horrific reveals, time was spent looking at them on the page and showing how it affected them. We saw Chihiro and Char crying and looking despondent, Hakuri internalising a harmful mindset about himself, now we've seen Iori pass out from the burden, waver, and will see more exploration of her difficult past to come.

But Hiruhiko, even if we do revisit this topic for him, got nothing except a long yap about what a genius of combat it made him. Nothing at all about his pain or the ramifications. If we still have more to learn about that incident then good, I fucking hope so. But it'll be too little to late for me. I don't know what I did to deserve the friends who helped pull me out of the tailspin this chapter caused, but I'm incredibly grateful to have them in my life.

So...

Current feelings. Also done after this, promise.

Hokazono-sensei isn't "cooked' or on a downswing, burning out early, deserving of being cancelled, or anything like that. I think we're just finally seeing the signs that he's a mangaka being serialised for the first time.

I still like the manga but I feel kind of isolated in being one of the apparent few that isn't having a good time with the story as it is right now. I've been waiting for the issues I've had with this arc to be resolved for a while but they seem to continue piling up. There will still be celebrations of hype moments and good writing but I'm not so keen on giving the author the benefit of the doubt any more.

I'm probably going to be more critical of the manga from hereon out so I don't mind if you unfollow me, dear void. I'm not above being a little anxious and upset when I see that folks have dropped me, but I also didn't start posting to gain a massive following. The idea was that I'd get my thoughts out there and hope a few folks were interested in what I had to say. That's happened and I don't want to chase validation through interaction numbers.

Right now I'm probably going to dial down the investment until either Hakuri comes back or we finally return to the Samura/Seitei War plotline. I feel like Hokazono tried to rush through this subplot with Iori and Hiruhiko as fast as he could to do just that, but that makes me ask a few questions.

What is the purpose of introducing Iori if we are trying to bumrush her big part of the story? Just to be a narrative tool? She's a contrast/compliment to Chihiro, a plot device, and a convenient excuse to get some fights on screen. But the execution was clumsy. It feels like she doesn't exist as a character herself but as a bundle of concepts to glue this arc's themes together and help the segue back into the main story.

Is this sort of thing going to happen every time the author wants to explore a new theme? Are we going to see Hakuri, Hiyuki, Shiba, Iori, and the rest shoved offscreen to introduce a new character tailor-made to explore things the way the author wants to instead of building on older ones? Hiyuki's a total unknown, why not use her? Why not give Shiba some screen time? I get that there are plans for them later on but frankly my patience has run out.

Are we going to see Chihiro running on fumes forever? Right now it doesn't seem like it matters that he's pushing himself too hard- he still got the better of Hiruhiko in round 2. I'm starting to get annoyed that we are being told Chihiro's exhausted, and sometimes shown it, but all of that goes out the window when it's time for him to look cool. Will this ever pay off in the narrative? If not, it's better to stop bringing it up so we stop thinking about it.

I'm still going to be here. I'm just not going to be glazing everything I like and hoping the things I don't like get better with future context any more. There's clear weaknesses in the writing that I can't overlook any longer. That said, I don't want each entry to become a negative rant, so moderation and objectivity as much as possible will be the name of the game.

Alright. If you got through all of this, thank you. Maybe see you next time if I'm still your cup of tea. If not, no hard feelings. Take care of yourself.

#kagurabachi #long post #kb ch70 #Hakuri is a tank obviously #Whoever gets Tobiumne will probably be the support #I earned that terrible disfinger/disfigure pun and I will not apologise for it

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smoothshine · 2 years ago

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𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗

#royai #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #fullmetal alchemist #fma #fmab #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fanart #fma fanart #smoothshine draws #yaaaay i am alive for a bit again and i still can draw!#i am having my exams in the beginning of July so i needed a distraction between studying and eeh not studying x))#but hey it's angsty royai hugs time!!#i wasn't quite able to take part in the royai week this year (which i feel kinda bad about btw)#but i still wanted to draw something involving my favourite war criminals during June and here it is!#tbh i just wanted to work with messy traditional stuff again and i ended up liking it #i have quite a lot of older sketches by now and maybe i'll post them with time if they grow on me ahah

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thevoidstaredback · 4 months ago

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It's dark outside, just after dusk when the lamps are still lighting themselves, and the world can't yet decide if it's dark or light.

There's very few people out, some walking dogs that you get to pet, others driving cars that splash in puddles leftover from an earlier rain. None of this bothers you, it never has. The city's always like this; quiet, serine, dull and bright all at once.

You pass by an alleyway, the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of your footsteps sound loud in the space between buildings, echoed from the darkness. You pause

"Pst!" I call out, the dim light from a nearby lamppost glaring off my glasses. I step closer to you, only by a half step. You take a full step away, though you don't run.

I watch the street cautiously, not fully leaving the confines of the alley between skyscrapers. I beckon you over. When you don't come closer, I allow myself another step closer. You don't move.

I open my overcoat, the lavender seeming much darker in the setting. I lock eyes with you. "You wanna know the ending to story I've only told you about once before?"

You shake your head, and keep walking. I slink back into the shadows.

You hesitate for a moment before ultimately agreeing. This time, when I motion you closer, you come.

With another look around, I reach into the inner pocket of my coat. Quickly, I pull out a single piece of folded paper and shove it into your hands. Before you can say anything, I disappear back into the shadows. You look after me, but I am no longer there.

You hold the folded paper in both hands and away from your body, staring at it for a long moment. The edges are burned, and it's crinkled like it's been crumbled into a ball.

Opening the note, you find the ink is completely unmarred, though the handwriting is a bit messy. It reads:

Marco watched the wooden box get lowered into the hole in the ground. Gently, he held the same thing that had brought him and the others back the first time in his fist. As he turned to leave the grieving pirates, he thought about the consequences of his actions. Every time someone goes back, at least one thing is different then it was in the first timeline. A thought struck him. What if he could choose the differences? What if the fate of the brothers played to his plan? Like a game of poker, he could deal the cards. If he played his cards right, then he'd place the winning hand in the end. He could save Ace. He could save Luffy. He could save everyone! He just had to deal the cards. Marco flew off in his phoenix form to a secluded part of the island and recited the same words Luffy had not so long ago. ‘This time,’ he resolved himself as he was engulfed in a bright light, ‘I’ll do it right.’ And then he was gone. End Book One

The paper starts to smolder as you read, turning itself to ashes in your hands by the time you finish. Like sand being scooped by a fork, the ash falls from your hands and is carried off by the winds.

You look for street signs or landmarks, trying to commit this alley to memory. Perhaps, you think, I may be around again to give you more stories, more things to occupy your mind with; to pull you from reality. And, who knows? Maybe I will be

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uchiha-gaeshi · 1 month ago

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I’m calling off my SI/OC fic.

#the si/oc fic that may never be written #at this point it may be true 😔#maybe I jinxed myself with that tag….#who knew that inserting yourself into a story is difficult even if it’s an avatar (or avatars…) of yourself #if you want to like take the story seriously and not treat it as purely a power fantasy then things get…..tricky #like who am I even #my personality varies greatly depending on the environment that I’m in #maybe I’m just overthinking a normal part of the human experience #at this point I think it’s just easier to project onto existing characters in canon while being careful of not projecting *too* much onto #them #like as long as there’s like one trait that I can relate to then I can have something to work with I feel #I don’t need to write them as myself #and I can give them a rollercoaster of wins and losses #Uchiha-gaeshi overshares #I think thinking about the self insert was a good distraction but at this point it has come to a hiatus #I need to think of other shit to write #and also a key issue I faced writers block wise was trying to distinguish the characters from each other #it got to a point where I had to kill characters off (all in my head…) because I just didn’t have the space to fully flesh them out #maybe one day I’ll be able to do this justice #but todays not the day #I just want to throw a random crack event and the founders and see how they react #or write aus of modern Konoha hsitorians looking at shit in the WSE and going ‘hey that’s kinda gay’#like maybe I should just disperse aspects of myself across different characters or make normal ocs and see how shit goes #or maybe this is the chance for me to start honing my smut writing skills for that 50 person uchisaku fic I’ve been wanting to write #I guess maybe my fear is that someone will glean something embarrassing from my writing and make a snap conclusion about my entire life #something something the fear of being perceived???#well at this point it was diminishing returns to the point of affecting my ability to enjoy fandom #for now I’ll just be in my little corner I guess #Uchiha-gaeshi ramblings #txt

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sailforvalinor · 1 year ago

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…well, turns out changing to a Jo pfp is fitting in more ways than one.

#yeah turns out I’m going to be having a Jo and Laurie on the Hill moment. hopefully not to such a dramatic degree but #I went out with The Boy yesterday and I was dreading it so much #and it was fine but then at the end he asked if we could make it official that we were dating #and I asked him to give me a little bit of time to think (which he was super sweet about he did literally nothing wrong)#but yeah I just came to the conclusion within ten seconds of leaving the restaurant that it wasn’t going to work. like I felt nothing when #he asked me that question. and I wanted this to work so bad! it makes so much sense on paper but I’m just not feeling it #and I talked to my dad about it and he said that because the part of the brain that processes emotions is not connected to the part that #processes language aren’t connected that people who are married struggle to put into words why they married their spouse #so if I can’t put into words why I don’t want to date this guy it’s perfectly valid #and I suppose he’s right I just feel terrible about it. like how often do you find a guy this courteous and genuinely good? and like I #think maybe part of what’s bothering me was that there was almost no romance to this. like never at any point did he tell me that he even #liked me. it was just ‘hey we’ve hung out a few times now should we say we’re dating?’ and I’m not trying to rag on him he’s probably just #shy but it rang a little like a business proposition to me #but ugh. now I have to call (because I’m not going to do it over text) and break this poor boy’s heart #it’s a really good thing I have the play and my novel to distract me otherwise I’d be a mess #anyway prayers would be appreciated

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hiddenbeks · 9 months ago

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more than a month after my previous kotor update i am happy to announce that i have finally met jolee and had him join me <3

#el plays kotor #yes im still on kashyyyk dont look at me #i was distracted by other games for a sec lmao but sth made me return to kotor yesterday #and now the party is complete!!!#and i have found 3 star maps and the plot is thickening!!!!#i keep wondering. if i hadn't been spoiled abt the pc's true identity would i have pieced it together by now #bc the foreshadowing isn't exactly subtle #or maybe it just feels unsubtle to me precisely because i know what is being foreshadowed....#but like. from the very beginning carth is like hmm its kinda sus that you happened to be on the endar spire #and then all those conversations with bastila that make u go hmmmm what's that supposed to mean #and then... when getting the star map on kashyyyk the hologram says sth abt you matching the required behavioral patterns or whatev #and that the last time it was used was five years ago And you can reply with 'hey revan was in these parts five years ago right'#like!!! yeah!!!! it was me!!!! i was the last user five years ago thats why i match the pattern i am revannnnnnnn #i have to know. did the first kotor players back in 2003 figure it out by this point hngngngnhng #or like any other players after 2003 who played and managed to avoid spoilers #anyway back to jolee. he is so cool but also so squishy on god #apparently some ppl give him a blaster to keep him out of melee but like you cant give a blaster to a jedi..... so uncivilized.......#i set him to use force powers until he runs out of force points #but the moment he runs out of force points and jumps into the fray he goes down. sigh #maybe im doing something wrong again. maybe i should let go of my jedi pride and just give him a blaster #i should also probably use all those energy shields and battle stimulants i have hoarded. i keep forgetting abt them lmao #also!!! @ the mutual who sent me that kotor related ask also more than a month ago i just wanted to let u kno. i have replied to it #i mean if u missed it or if u didnt get a notif or forgot or anything else that's cool !!#i just get all worried that ppl might think i havent answered and that im ignoring them if they dont indicate they've seen the reply gfhgfh #but that's a me issue. i just wanted to make sure u knew 🫶#anyway!! next stop manaan maybe #but first a detour to tatooine to deal with mission's useless deadbeat brother

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absoloutenonsense · 2 years ago

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writing is so weird, i just spent ~20 minutes googling distances between different places in California and local birds for not even 50 words of actual text

#writing #fake-dating omegaverse au #like part of it is distraction but part of it is like hey maybe that turns into something and i'll be glad i have some info #anyway we're making progress (finally) (sort of)

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seumyo · 2 months ago

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bakugou “do it yourself—no—i’ll do it” katsuki.

In simple theory, you have your husband, Bakugou Katsuki, wrapped around your finger. And he can fight it all he wants, but it’s nothing if not the wholehearted truth.

“Hey, can you grab me some coffee?”

Bakugou didn’t even look up from his phone. “No. Get your own damn coffee.”

“Fine,” you sighed dramatically, turning your attention back to your work. You didn’t miss the way Bakugou grumbled under his breath as he stood up a few moments later. When he returned, he placed a steaming cup of coffee on your desk without a word.

You hid your smile behind the rim of the cup. “Thanks, Katsuki.”

“Whatever,” he muttered, glaring at you.

Later that afternoon, you two were sparring in the gym in the comfort of your home—courtesy to your husband insisting that it’s a non-negotiable when arranging the first designs of your dream home together. You were struggling to move one of the heavier training dummies back into its original position, and once again you had the brilliant idea of putting your theory to the test.

What’s the point of having a husband if he doesn’t let you do things like these?

You let out an exaggerated sigh and turned to Bakugou, who was wiping sweat from his brow. For a moment, you forgot what you were about to say—momentarily distracted by how good he looks, muscles glistening and all with his signature black tank top.

Goddamn, you scored a hottie.

“Katsuki, help me move this,” you called, pointing at the dummy.

“No way,” he shot back immediately. “You’re the one who moved it there, so you deal with it.”

“Fine,” you sighed, turning back to the dummy and giving it an exaggerated shove. Before you could try again, Bakugou had stormed over, cursing at the dummy under his breath. He grabbed the dummy with one hand and effortlessly dragged it back into place.

“There. Happy now?” he grunted.

Oh, so it could be resist, then actually do it, or refuse while doing it anyway.

You smiled. “Very. Thanks, Katsuki.”

“Shut up,” he growled, his ears slightly tinged with pink.

By the end of the week, it had become a game for you. You’d ask for the simplest things, knowing full well that Bakugou would always refuse—only to do it anyway. Maybe it’s his love language to refuse but comply nevertheless.

“Can you pass me the remote?”

“No. Use your legs.” Hands it over.

“Can you open this jar for me?”

“Do it yourself.” Opens it in one twist.

“Can you get groceries on your way home?”

“Fuck no.” What do you mean he’s already loading the grocery bags in his car?

“Can you carry my bag for a second?”

“Die. I’m not your damn pack mule.” Carries it all the way home.

One evening, you two were sitting on the couch of your home, eating takeout and watching a movie. You were cuddled up with a freshly ironed blanket—thanks to Bakugou, who had done the laundry yesterday while you did the ironing when everything had dried enough—poking at your food lazily. You turned to Bakugou, your head resting on the couch cushion.

“Hey, can you grab me some water?” you asked with a sweet smile.

Bakugou glared at you, pausing mid-bite, his usual scowl in place. “No. You’ve got legs. Use ‘em.”

“Okay,” you said simply, turning your attention back to the movie.

You decided that you’ll get water once you finish this specific scene.

Bakugou lasted all of five minutes before he let out a loud groan, stomping to the kitchen and returning with a glass of water. He shoved it into your hands, his expression equal parts annoyed and resigned.

“There,” he grumbled. “Happy now?”

You took the glass with a smug grin. “Thanks, Katsuki. You’re the best.”

He sank back onto the couch, crossing his arms and glaring at the screen. “You’re so damn annoying.”

“You love me,” you said teasingly.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, his ears turning red. But he didn’t deny it.

“Married me, too. So I don’t think you mind at all.”

“Die.”

“‘til death do we part, Kats.”

And despite all his protests, you knew the truth. Katsuki Bakugou might have sworn you’d never have him wrapped around your finger, but with every little thing he did for you—grudgingly or not—you knew you had your conclusion.

Even if it’s a little bit.

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zevrra · 3 months ago

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𝐢. 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

synop: you and vik get caught “messing around” in the lab by jayce; who surprisingly wants to join in on the fun.

wc: 1.8k

includes: straight smut, p w/o p, fem!reader, jayce x reader x viktor, slight vöyeurism, oral (m receiving), slight dirty talk, threesome, bottom!viktor

extra: part 2 is here! reblogs are appreciated <3

“don’t worry,” you whisper, fingers twirling along a red tie before smoothing down the front of viktor’s vest. “i sent jayce out on an errand run and he won’t be back for a little bit. just enjoy this v.” you add with a hum.

viktor looks up through his pretty lashes at you. he leans back against his desk, practically sits on top of it to keep weight off of his leg, as you two stand inside of the lab. he had been working far too hard recently and the only way you could keep him distracted long enough not to think about anything involving his work was to pleasure him. it was the same way trying to get him to sleep every once and awhile, when he would sneak into your room. you had never suggested doing it in the lab though…and the thought thrilled you just as much as it thrilled him; even if he thought it was a terrible idea.

“w-we shouldn’t. not here in the lab and what if—” viktor mumbles but his words end in a soft gasp as your fingers begin to untuck his shirt from his pants.

“viktor,” you chirp as you fall to your knees in front of him, unbuttoning the front of his pants and pulling them down ever so slightly. “you need to take a break. be a good boy and just relax.”

your fingers are just grabbing the hem of his underwear when the door to the lab is being thrown open and jayce’s large figure enters the room. “hey, i was looking for this thing you asked for but i—“ jayce had begun to speak, his eyes pointed down as he entered the room, before he finally looked up and caught the two of his friends in the act.

you freeze in your spot, eyes widening as you stare at jayce from the floor. a scarlet red blush is spreading across your face, you can feel the heat on your cheeks in an instant and you’re sure you match not only jayce’s shocked face but viktor’s as well; and you can’t even bring yourself to look up at him. you probably stay like that for a little longer than you should’ve until jayce clears his throat and you and viktor alike scramble from each other.

“we!” you start as you stand up straight and as quick as you possibly can. “wait it’s not what it looks like! we were uh just uhm—“ you ramble before looking at viktor to help dig both of you out of this hole. but he’s busied himself with trying to zip his pants back up, making it far more obvious if it hadn’t been already. you sigh, turning your face off to the side to stare at a small spot on the floor, unable to look jayce in the eye.

“do…you do this often?” jayce’s voice cuts through the built up silence in the room like a knife.

you shake your head quickly but viktor speaks up for you instead. “never in the lab.” he mutters.

“it’s unprofessional, we get it, let’s just drop it and forget this—“ you begin to add but the sound of the door closing with a lock interrupts your rambling. when you finally bring your gaze to jayce, his eyes are soft but clear in their intentions. and it was his turn to no longer be able to look at the two of you.

“can i…watch?” he whispers under his breath.

and with three little words, everything changes between all three of you.

now, jayce leans against the lab’s desk as viktor leans back against his chest. jay’s strong hands fully support viktor as you’ve returned to your spot in front of him. you had never in your life thought jayce might have been interested in whatever you and viktor had going on. maybe you just assumed he already had a lover and never brought it up again. but now his hazel eyes stare down at you, just as viktor’s amber eyes also watch you, both with a hunger to their eye. it almost made you nervous, being watched, but your fingers once again hook around viktor’s underwear and pull down, ignoring the jitters that hum under your skin.

your hand wraps around vik’s semi hard cock and you give it a soft tug, rubbing right up the shaft until the tip. there was a new feeling in the air around all 3 of you. breaths being held, eyes watching ever so closely, the slight tremble to your hand. it had been different when it was just the two of you enjoying midnight meetings but now with jayce there too…it felt far more scandalous and naughty.

“tell me what it feels like.” jayce whispers, purposely placing his chin into the crook of viktor’s neck, as his hands slowly run up along vik’s chest.

your own hand continues to move against viktor’s shaft, stroking him slowly up and down, moving to press your lips against his head.

“mmph, her fingers are a little cold,” viktor replies with a low groan. his chest rising and falling in quicker succession as he begins to get turned on. “but it feels good.” he adds. and his honesty makes you smile a little.

you move your hand faster in return to his praise. trailing your fingers along his head, pressing your thumb into the slit of his cöck, where he’s growing sensitive and causing him to gasp softly. you take the moment to lean forward and capture the head of his cock inside of your mouth. drinking in the sight of viktor’s eyes fluttering, his fingers tightening onto whatever he can grasp, as your mouth wraps around him.

“keep going viktor.” jayce instructs as you watch him place hot, heavy kisses against vik’s throat. one of his hands groping his thin chest and waist.

“w-warm! it’s so warm and wet,” vik breaks. he’s fully hard now as you suck on his head, making him whimper at the feeling. “feels—ah—really good.” he adds with a groan as his eyes return to watching you.

you can feel his thighs tighten as you swallow more of his cöck, continuing to use your hand to stroke up to your lips. you watch every expression that crosses viktor’s face along with jayce’s fingers that slowly begin to take off his vest. strips him of his vest and then works on unbuttoning his brown shirt underneath.

jayce keeps laying hot kisses along the back of his neck and on his throat, slumped over and threatening to swallow all of viktor’s thin frame.

the sight makes you somewhat giddy and excited to see what jayce does. but it never distracts you from making viktor feel good as well. sucking a little harder, spit bubbling up at the sides of your lips as you sink further down onto his lengthy shaft. your eyes are almost falling close to help you focus as you swallow more and more of him, but jayce’s voice catches your attention once again.

“she looks so pretty like that, doesn’t she, vik? makin’ you feel so good.” he whispers against just as pretty, pale skin. his words cause vik to stutter, hips lifting up and forcing you to swallow the rest of him. and you do so with ease.

you truly wouldn’t have guessed jayce was so good at dirty talk but you welcomed any surprises at this point. viktor simply whines in response, head hanging low, gaze still on you as you continue your routine of sucking him off.

jayce stands to his full height then, hanging over viktor just enough so he could turn his face and capture his lips. viktor’s eyes widen in response but he does nothing to stop jayce; no, instead he’s melting into the kiss. you watch with eager curiosity as their tongues clash together, jayce easily winning in the battle of dominance, as one big hand of his moves up to gently caress viktor’s throat.

fuck, was it hot watching them. you can feel your pussy throbbing at the sight just as you can feel yourself growing wet against your panties. you squeeze your thighs together, slipping a hand down below to press your fingers into your core. the best you can through the pants you wear for the moment but the pressure is enough to make you groan. you move your lips faster along viktor’s shaft, sucking harsher and sloppier to bring him closer to his end.

the change of pace and jayce’s tongue surely has viktor coming undone quicker than usual. for he breaks the kiss with a harsh whine. “i’m close!” vik gasps, tossing his head back onto jayce’s shoulder.

jayce presses a quick kiss against his jaw before his hazel eyes return to watch you suck viktor off. his eyes are hazy and full of lust as he fixes his intense stare on what you do; which makes you shiver with newfound pleasure under his sight. his strong gaze makes you press your fingers into your pussy once again, seeking any form of satisfaction you could get for the moment.

“look viktor,” jayce instructs as his hand smooths over viktor’s lower abdomen. “she’s touching herself.”

viktor’s breath hitches in his throat but he moves his own lust filled gaze down to stare at you. with both of them returning to stare at you, you palm yourself harder through your pants. moving your hips in sync to every bob of your head, needy and desperate as things evolve, all the while you moan around vik’s cock.

it’s all too much for viktor as his hips lift and he thrusts wildly into your mouth. “going to—!” he cries softly, body tightening, throwing his full weight back against jayce.

but jayce is quicker. one hand grabs your hair and pulls you off of vik’s twitching cock before he takes his hand and wraps it around where your mouth had just left. “stick out your tongue. i wanna see the mess he makes all over your face.” he grunts, pumping his fist quickly along vik’s entire shaft. his hand is much bigger than yours and it wraps entirely around viktor with ease, and it makes vik lose all control he might’ve pretended to have.

but you do as your told and swiftly stick your tongue out to catch whatever you can. all it takes is viktor staring at your tongue and jayce’s hand jerking him off to finish his orgasm. viktor forces himself to watch as he comes, fingers grasping and gripping onto anything he can that’s near him as he tumbles over the edge with a sharp cry.

your name, along with jayce’s name, leaves viktor’s lips in a pathetic whimper as he comes. can feel the sticky substance coat your tongue, cheek, and chin with each rope jayce rubs out of him. all the while viktor and jayce watch as he makes a mess across your lips and face, never once looking anywhere else.

not until vik is completely spent, limp against jayce who holds him up effortlessly. the only noise now in the room is the shared panting between all three of you. you lick your lips, trying to clean yourself up just a little, before it was your turn to break the silence.

“let’s keep going.”

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monsterblogging · 1 year ago

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"I know JK Rowing is a terrible person but her books are so good-"

You sure about that?

I mean, just for a start, have you taken a good look at her fantasy creatures lately? A whole bunch of them are straight-up based on malicious and dehumanizing stereotypes about actual people.

Remember the werewolves? And being a werewolf was made into a kind of metaphor for having AIDS?

And you know how AIDS was first associated with gay men? And how conservatives back in the day were claiming gay men were preying on children in order to convert them to gayness?

Remember how Fenrir Greyback preyed on children in particular? Yeah, she put that subtext in there. She was an adult in the 90's. She knew damn well what she was doing.

Remember the house elves? Remember how most of them loved to serve and needed to have a home and a master or else they just wouldn't know what to do with themselves?

Did you know that's literally what slavers in the American South said about the Black people they kept enslaved? Go look up the happy slave myth.

Do I even need to get into the goblins and the antisemitic tropes they're based on? No, folkloric goblins were not gold-hoarding bankers waiting for their chance to stab humanity in the back.

"But the characters are so good!"

Are you kidding me?

Most of her characters are pretty one-dimensional, including Harry. Her idea of making a morally complicated character is giving a tragic past to a bully. Numerous characters are little more than stereotypes. (Looking at Fleur right now.) Literally anybody, including you, can easily make dozens of characters just as good, if not better. (It doesn't exactly take a lot of character designing skill to go, "hey, actually, having a sad backstory doesn't make it okay to bully children" or "hey, maybe I should not base a character on the first stereotype that pops into my head.")

"But the rest of the worldbuilding!"

Sorry, but her worldbuilding is just as basic as her characters. Magical castles and secret passages are stock tropes. Magical people who keep their true nature secret from humanity is the premise of pretty much every White Wolf TTRPG. Most of her fantasy creatures are just common European fairy tale and folklore creatures with shitty stereotypes projected onto them.

I'm not saying "basic worldbuilding bad." I'm saying, you could do just as good, if not better, with minimal effort.

Also there's her magical bioessentialism, where only Harry's abusive blood relatives could provide him with supernatural protection from Voldemort. Rowling thus effectively declared that non-biological family isn't quite real family, and that abusive biofamily can give you some essential thing that a loving, supportive family that isn't related to you just can't.

The Hogwarts houses are one of the most insidious elements of her worldbuilding. The idea of being sorted gives you a little dopamine hit because wow now you have a li'l niche where you belong!

But the actual function of the houses and sorting system and the House Cup is teaching children to see each other as rivals, and ensure that the most toxic views of the upper class get passed on to every new batch of kids sorted into Slytherin.

Hogwarts effectively prepares children for a dystopia where magic serves to distract its citizens from how nightmarishly awful it is. Economic inequality is so bad that people like Arthur and Molly Weasley can barely afford to put their kids through school, casual sadism is just an accepted norm in everyday society, and non-humans are second class citizens. Rowling sorta acts like she thinks this is a bad thing with certain lines she gave to Dumbledore, but in the end, her special boy protagonist becomes an auror; IE, a defender of the status quo. So.

If you've never seen it, Lily Simpson's video goes into even more detail on how the worldbuilding of Harry Potter is actually incredibly fucked up, and how it betrays small-minded attitudes on Rowling's part. There's no separating the art from this artist, because Rowling's rotten values pour out of nearly every page.

youtube

Yes, there are many things in Harry Potter that evoke feelings and inspire people, but there's absolutely nothing in it that this series has a monopoly on. You can find those same experiences in much, much better media.

#harry potter #jk rowling #Youtube

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starfruitii · 27 days ago

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cws & notes. fluff. post-timeskip. iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader, + special guest appearances from the seijoh 4 because i love them. 800+ words.

“Wait. Wait a second.” Oikawa squints at you, then at Iwaizumi, then back at you again. “Something's different.”

“First time we see you in almost a year, and you're already acting weird.” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, pulling out two chairs for you both to sit down. “Nothing's different.”

“Glad to see leaving Japan hasn't changed you, Oikawa.” You chime in, sliding into your seat. It was a nice little cafe, not too crowded, but not empty either. The table Oikawa had chosen was tucked away in the back, right by a window overlooking the street, giving you a perfect opportunity to watch the people walking by.

“No.... no, something is definitely off.” Oikawa looks over to the other two occupied seats, searching for some sort of agreement from his companions. “You two see it, don't you? Something has definitely changed since our last meet-up.”

“Our last meet-up was last September. I think it would be weirder if we hadn't changed a little since then,” Matsukawa laughs, waving him off. “I mean, look at Makki's haircut.”

Hanamaki looks thoughtful for a moment, nodding at Oikawa. “Nah, I think he's got a point. You two seem a little—Wait, what do you mean? What's wrong with my hair, asshole?”

“Hey, I didn't say it was bad! Just... different.”

“So, different in a good way?”

“Uh... sure, if that's what you want to go with.”

“You—”

“This isn't about Makki's hair!” Oikawa interrupts, pointing an accusing finger towards Iwaizumi. He looks up from the menu in his hands, glaring back at Oikawa. “It's about them. Something happened between you two, didn't it?”

“Maybe they got engaged.” Hanamaki suggests.

“They have to be dating before they get engaged.” Matsukawa pauses, realization on his face. “Wait, is that it? Did you guys actually start dating? Do I owe Makki ¥2000?”

“You're all imagining things.” Iwaizumi says bluntly. “Now, are we going to order or not?”

Oikawa's suspicion doesn't waver, but the mention of food distracts him enough to begrudgingly let the topic go. He waves over a waitress, ordering drinks and snacks for the whole table. Once she is gone, the conversation shifts to Matsukawa's work, then Hanamaki's lack of work, then everything Oikawa has been up to in Argentina.

Throughout the visit, you sit back and relax, chiming in with your own anecdotes and comments every now and then. For the most part, you keep quiet, content with listening to your friends as they catch up. Ever since graduation, when you all went your separate ways, reunions with all five of you were few and far between, so you were just happy to be together once again.

You barely notice the time passing at all, until Oikawa is five-minutes deep into a rant about his new team. Iwaizumi looks at his watch and balks, standing up from his seat.

“It's already five.” He says, cutting off Oikawa's voice. “I gotta get going soon.”

“Me too,” You sigh.

“Already?” Matsukawa groans.

“Both of you?” Hanamaki asks, raising an eyebrow. “You have plans you'd like to share?”

“He's my ride home.” You shrug, gathering up your things. “It was great seeing you guys though. We'll have to hang out again when you're all free.”

After your goodbyes, the two of you leave the cafe and walk the short distance to Iwaizumi's car. Once you're alone, you settle into a comfortable silence, accompanied by the quiet sounds of the city in the background. Without your friends' scrutinizing gaze, Iwaizumi walks a little closer to you, until your shoulders lightly brush. The slight touch sends a shiver down your spine, but you make no effort to move away.

“So, Oikawa seems to think something is up.” You say casually, watching Iwaizumi frown at the mention of his friend.

“He can think whatever he wants to think.” He rolls his eyes, holding open the side door of his car. “We don't owe him anything.”

“We do have to tell them at some point, don't we?” You continue, as you climbed into the passenger seat. “You of all people should know he's not going to shut up about it until we do.”

“Of course I know that.” Iwaizumi grumbled, as soon as he was sat in his own seat.

“So...?”

“So what?” He adjusts his mirrors, glancing over at you.

“Is he right?” There's a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. It's clear you find it much more amusing than he does. You lean closer, whispering the words like they're a grand secret. “Is something different, Hajime?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head a little, but can't hide the small smirk on his face. His hand reaches out to grasp your chin, tilting your face upwards so he can press a slow, sweet kiss to your lips. As he leans back, there's a light pink dusting his cheeks. “I don't know. Has something changed?”

You laugh lightly, savouring the taste of his lips on your own. “Nope. Nothing at all.”

do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai. reblogs are appreciated <3

#🎧 : now playing !#odysseyofsaia #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hajime iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu fluff

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corkinavoid · 2 months ago

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Hey, @confused-they, this is for you and for everyone else who wanted more of this AU. Merry Christmas.

DPxDC Ring of Rage? More Like Ring of Engage [pt. 4]

[<- part 3]

[Written to 'Tantrum' by Ashnikko]

TW: mentioned mild gore (some inside parts become outside ones, nothing graphic)

Tim can't breathe.

Joker's mad laughter is ringing through the darkness of the warehouse, echoing in his head, the screeching sound straight out of nightmares. Hood should be nearby - as in, somewhere in this darkness along with him - but Tim can't think about that, his own maniacal giggles bubbling in the back of his throat, a grin tugging at his lips.

He has to get up. He has to stand, he has to fight, and it really shouldn't be this hard.

But he can't breathe.

Tim clutches his fingers on the fabric of his suit on the chest, distantly wondering if this is how Danny feels when he is more human than ghost. Probably not, he mentioned that breathing is only optional.

He really wants his boyfriend right now. His fiance. Whatever, he wants Danny, he wants his cold hands on his cheeks and the faint, humming purr of his core that Tim finds nice to fall asleep to, and-

Maybe later. He can't exactly summon him now, not in the middle of a fight, especially not in the middle of a fight with Joker of all people.

There's an angry growl somewhere to Tim's left, staticky through the voice-modulator. Then several sounds of gunshots and a gleeful, taunting yell of the madman.

Hold on.

Tim snaps his eyes open - not that anything changes, everything is still pitch-black around him - and blinks.

Why not?..

It's not like Danny is a civilian. Tim tends to pay little attention to the fact since the King of Infinite Realms doesn't hang out with the whole superhero convention on principle. But Tim is pretty sure he won't mind it this once.

Besides, Tim is so done with Joker that it's not even funny.

A few breathy chuckles escape his throat as he lets his body fully slump back on the floor and brings his left hand to his face, placing a quick kiss on the Ring through his glove. He doesn't need to do that, not really, but it's kind of a ritual at this point, and the gesture somehow makes him feel better.

"Danny," he whispers.

For a long moment, nothing happens.

Then, there's a soft, popping sound, and his beautiful boyfriend is floating right over him, faintly glowing and a little sleepy. Tim is momentarily distracted by his bare feet and pj pants with tiny rockets on them.

Danny yawns and tugs the hem of his t-shirt down as it starts to float. "Whas'sup," he mutters, rubbing his eyes and clearly not fully awake, and Tim's heart melts instantly. He loves Danny. He just... He loves him, okay? He loves that Danny didn't question his summons for a moment, he loves that he came even though he was obviously sleeping, and he loves that Danny is wearing a tee he stole from Tim.

Unfortunately, before he is able to get his shit back together, another sound of gunshot ripples through the air, and Danny startles, blinking himself awake and looking in the direction of it. Then, his eyebrows shoot up, and his mouth makes a soft 'O' shape before he turns back to Tim and tilts his head in question.

"You want me to deal with him? The clown, I mean, not your brother," he asks, and it's so casual and off-handed that Tim actually huffs a laugh.

"Sorry, I was just- I'm really tired of his ass," Tim should probably sit up, this is not a talk they should have while he is lying on the ground. On the other hand, Jason is somewhere out there, and he has guns and doesn't have a clear visual around him, so maybe Tim shouldn't sit up.

Danny hums, "Is that a yes?"

Tim just nods. He is pretty sure Danny can see him despite the darkness. "I promise it's a one-time thing, I don't plan on calling you every time one of local lunatics acts up. I just... I fucking can't with him," he admits with a defeated sigh. But, before he can spiral any further into the abyss of unworthiness, Danny's cold hands are cupping his cheeks, and his icy eyes are looking right into Tim's sky blue.

"Love, I don't mind getting rid of each and every one of your Rogues. Granted, it would probably fuck up the timeline, and Clocky would be mad, but I'd do it if you want me to, no questions asked." His voice is quiet, and Tim has never been more grateful for his domino mask, because he can feel his cheeks heating up and he doesn't want Danny to see the exact effect his words are causing.

"I- Okay," he quietly agrees, and then blinks, backtracking, "Wait, no, don't fuck up the timeline. Just deal with the laughing bitch this once, and that's it. We can handle the rest."

Danny is smiling at him in that adoring way Tim recognizes as 'I really want to kiss you, but it's not the time or place'. Then, he nods and lets go of Tim's cheeks, straightening up in the air, and his clothes shift all at once, like a magic trick.

Gone are the stretched out t-shirt and the pants with rocket ships. In their place, Danny's body is head to toe covered in stars and galaxies that hold the vague shape of armor, and there's a slightly shimmering, blueish-green translucent cape over one of his shoulders.

The Crown over his head, the sentient artifact much like the Ring on Tim's finger, appears from nowhere, and, after a brief pause - Tim swears it was debating on whether or not the situation is worth the effort - promptly sets itself on fire. Blue flames cast long shadows on Danny's, no, King's face, making him look older and his cheekbones sharper.

Before, the boy was only faintly glowing, and, evidently, the others present in the warehouse were too distracted to notice him.

But now, with the flaming Crown casting dancing shadows on the walls of the warehouse, it's really hard not to see the otherworldly being making an appearance.

"Holy fuck," Tim hears Hood's quiet, astonished voice, and almost cracks a grin.

Yeah, he wants to say, that's my boyfriend. Although he suspects he and Jason are having vastly different reactions to Danny's presence. Because Tim kind of wants to take all his words about dealing with Joker back and take Danny home, straight to bed.

...He is going to have to strangle Jason in his sleep if his reaction is similar. No, that's a wrong thought, this is so not the time for it.

"Who are you, flying glowstick?" Joker sounds rightfully pissed off by the interruption, "Does Batsy employ alien kids now?"

Danny chuckles, the starry freckles on his cheeks glowing brighter, "Okay, just because you compared me to an alien, I'm not going to completely erase you from this plane of existence."

Tim snaps his head up.

"Wait, no killing," he reminds, not because he actually cares but because B would throw a fit. Danny brushes him off with a wave of his hand.

"No worries, he'll stay alive," he smiles at Tim, and to everyone else, it probably looks like stuff of nightmares, sharp, pointy teeth and lips stretched out far beyond human capabilities. But Tim sees it for what it is: a face of mischief.

"Do I get a vote in this?" Jason's deadpan voice comes from somewhere on the other side of the warehouse at the same moment as Joker screeches in rage, "Who the fuck do you think-"

"Nope," Danny pops the 'p', and Tim is not sure if he is answering to Hood or refusing to listen to the clown's monolog by it. Maybe it's both. It's probably both.

The next moment, Danny is gone, disappeared from the place he was floating at, and Tim hears a wet, very unpleasant sound followed by Joker's scream of pain.

"You see this?" He hears Danny's nonchalant, unfazed voice above the clown's pained cries, "This is your rib, bitch- Hey, quit whining and listen to me, it's important."

There's a slap, a rustle, and a sound of ripping fabric, and Joker's voice becomes muffled, like someone put a gag in his mouth.

"You're like Adam now, you know, lacking one rib," Danny continues, "Only I'm not making you a girl out of this one, I'm pretty sure you don't deserve to reproduce. Anyway, going further down that metaphor, I'm the God almighty in this situation, so if you want to keep the rest of your ribs - and the rest of other things that are supposed to stay inside of you - to yourself, you gotta do a thing for me, okay?"

There's some muffled groans that Joker makes in response, then an enraged growl, a sound of a struggle, another slap, and then that same wet, disgusting squelch.

"Two ribs, wow, okay, you're really being difficult about this!" Danny sounds so innocently dumbstruck about it that Tim suppresses a laugh. "Are you listening now?" There's a quiet, choking wheeze that answers him, and Danny sounds quite pleased when he says, "Great."

Tim debates if he should look. He doesn't exactly want to since the sounds provide enough context, but it might be somewhat cathartic for him.

And then the air around him inexplicably shifts, becoming cold and oppressive, weighting Tim down like a heavy blanket and pushing him into the floor. The dancing shadows and the blue light of flames on the walls twist and churn, like taking aim, and Tim doesn't know what Danny looks like right now but he knows he is as far from human as possible, his voice coming with a staticky, echoing whisper, a threatening hiss slithering inside Tim's ears.

"Play your little games all you want, Fallen Jester, but know that you can not win. The punchline to your joke is long overdue, and your soul has belonged to me for quite some time now," his words are cold and uncaring, and in all the time Tim has known his boyfriend, he has never heard him speak like this: with a sense of lazy power, like he is only humoring the people around him.

Like they mean nothing to him.

"I will not kill you, or at least not here and now. My Guiding Star doesn't want to see my hands dirty with your filthy remains. Besides, death is only a moment, and you don't deserve only a moment of suffering," he huffs a short, humorless chuckle, "But, luckily, I am the Eyes of the Universe, the Titan's Bane, the King of the Dead, and everyone will meet me once their eyes fall shut for the last time," there's a smile in his voice now, full of cold and merciless anticipation. Tim feels a shiver run down his spine.

"So just you wait, Jester, and I will meet you on the other side. Then we'll see how whatever is left of your soul is going to spend an eternity."

Tim's ears are ringing with the pure, somehow gleeful hatred that laces those last words. He didn't know he could literally taste the disgust and the promise of pain, and yet, here he is, with a hint of something sour on his tongue.

And then, the heavy, weighted air that has been charged with power is lifted, the shadows and bright blue lights are all gone, and Danny, wearing his pj's and smiling, is standing over him. His feet are planted on the ground for once, and the Crown is gone without a trace, but his t-shirt is still trying to float up. The boy tugs it down again, offering a hand to Tim.

"Wanna go out for a burger since I'm already here in Gotham?"

Tim had never breathed easier in his life. He laughs a little and reaches up, taking his beautifully unhinged boyfriend's hand and standing up.

"I thought you'd never ask."

#danny phantom #dpxdc #dc x dp #tim drake #joker #tim x danny #dead tired #ring of rage #writing a fight scene in gotham?#stick'em in a warehouse #idk its convenient #jason todd #ghost king danny #eldritch danny #he kept the ribs btw #jason later asked him for one of them #danny traded it for jason's helmet because souvenirs #cork prompts #ficlet

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