#no other Links come to mind but I might just not be thinking of them lol
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The first time I saw this I was all excited when I got to the HERE links like 'oh!!! more denethor positive post recommendations?? :DD' and then the links were me, me and my partner 😂 excitement to disappointment to flattery! Big emotional rollercoaster! But thank you so much for reading and enjoying :) Though there are other tumblr users than me fighting the good denethor fight, anghraine and bretwalda-lamnguin to name two off the top of my head!
The idea that Denethor's final look into the Palantir is a hopeful act literally hasn't occurred to me before, for some reason I never thought too hard about his motivation to do it. Extremely beautiful and heartbreaking take and I fully agree.
I presume the reason you mention it is because it's a part of the video you linked? (which I simply will not watch because I'm sick enough already). Ergo I also presume that the idea Denethor saw the black ships coming up the Anduin in the Palantir and that is what made him lose hope is also from that video? Either way, and I hope you don't mind me rambling on your post, that is a Tom Shippey construction that is actively disproven by the text. Denethor didn't need to use the Palantir in that moment to know the black ships were coming, all of Minas Tirith already knew that!
‘But if you would know what I think set the beacons ablaze, it was the news that came that eve out of Lebennin. There is a great fleet drawing near to the mouths of Anduin, manned by the corsairs of Umbar in the South.' - Beregond, Minas Tirith chapter from RotK
One could make the argument that they didn't yet know the fleet would make it up the Anduin, that they thought Pelargir might stall them, but even in that regard it's just not that great of a shock to find ships you knew were coming... are coming! And Pelargir's capture was already complete by the time Aragorn arrived, so really how much of a doomful surprise would this have been to Denethor?
AND! I don't even think it is reasonable to put such certainty into the idea that Denethor, in looking at the Palantir for the ships, wouldn't see Aragorn captaining them. The Palantir, when wielded by someone of rightful skill (a thing Denethor absolutely had) can see such detail as to pick out a ring on a person's finger according to the Palantir essay. And one could claim he simply was too much 'in despair' to look that closely, but still! It all makes the claim quite shadey.
More likely to me, and supported more by textual inference, is that Denethor saw Frodo captured by orcs in Cirith Ungol and that is what broke him. The timeline matches precisely, Frodo being captured on the 13th of March, the very same day Faramir is wounded and Denethor looks into the stone. And Denethor... tells us he saw this!
‘Comfort me not with wizards!’ said Denethor. ‘The fool’s hope has failed. The Enemy has found it, and now his power waxes; he sees our very thoughts, and all we do is ruinous.'
And here too! Before Denethor talks about the ships, he says;
‘Pride and despair!’ he cried. ‘Didst thou think that the eyes of the White Tower were blind? Nay, I have seen more than thou knowest, Grey Fool. For thy hope is but ignorance.
Like the mention of the fleet is more of an afterthought addition that Denethor includes, when what he is talking about is 'the Power that now arises [against which] there is no victory'.
Denethor knows all about the fellowship by now, he already called it a foolish plan to begin with. But within the framing you give of Denethor's look into the Palantir being one of hope, looking for any chance that their fight will have been worth it, the attempt to search for Frodo in Mordor..... is absolutely heartbreaking! And like... THIS is the kind of thing you see in a Palantir that makes you lose all hope. The ringbearer is captured, naked and powerless in the hands of the enemy. And nude as he is, you can see clearly he has no ring. The enemy has found it, how can there be any other explanation? It was all for nought, how could Gandalf have been so foolish? He has doomed them all. It is purely his vanity that makes him believe he could win now. LIKE. THE AGONY!!!!
This kind of Denethor discourse is so frustrating to me that I am literally pacing back and forth like a panther in a zoo enclosure. Ugggggggghhhhh
A lot of people will tell you that the moral of The Lord of the Rings is “never lose hope,” and that Denethor is bad because he loses hope.
Please read THIS and THIS and especially THIS, which is one of the most beautiful and heartbreaking meditations on LotR you’ll ever read. Tolkien’s ideas about hope are so much more radical than “hope good despair bad.”
Denethor—Tolkien’s Denethor, not Peter Jackson’s Denethor—is unsettling because he tries to hope, but his hope isn’t strong enough to save him. Here are his thoughts on hope, just a few days before his death:
The time will not be long. In what is left, let all who fight the Enemy in their fashion be at one, and keep hope while they may, and after hope still the hardihood to die free.
Denethor has a more “realist” worldview than Gandalf or Faramir, but he’s not a nihilist. He’s still hanging onto hope even though he’s grieving Boromir and he’s positive that Frodo is going to be captured by Sauron. He only breaks when Faramir is mortally wounded and he sees the black ships in the palantir. And I don’t mean he gives up, I mean his mind snaps:
And as [Pippin] watched, it seemed to him that Denethor grew old before his eyes, as if something had snapped in his proud will, and his stern mind was overthrown.
Tolkien repeatedly uses language like “madness,” “madman,” “he is not himself” and “his mind was overthrown.” It’s not subtle!
Denethor is having a psychotic episode. His culpability is reduced, either partially or totally; we can’t know for certain. But I don’t think that everything he says and does in his last moments is “the real Denethor.”
We can do our best and try to have hope, but sometimes life crushes us. How are we supposed to live with the knowledge that this can happen?
Tolkien was haunted by the idea of heroes who fail, heroes who are crushed by their burdens:
Frodo indeed 'failed' as a hero, as conceived by simple minds: he did not endure to the end; he gave in, ratted. (Letter 246)
….I think it can be observed in history and experience that some individuals seem to be placed in 'sacrificial' positions: situations or tasks that for perfection of solution demand powers beyond their utmost limits, even beyond all possible limits for an incarnate creature in a physical world – in which a body may be destroyed, or so maimed that it affects the mind and will. Judgement upon any such case should then depend on the motives and disposition with which he started out, and should weigh his actions against the utmost possibility of his powers, all along the road to whatever proved the breaking-point. (Letter 246)
Tolkien himself tended to judge Denethor harshly, but the character fits very well into the same template as Frodo: a “sacrificial” person who is pushed beyond his limits. The palantir aged him and weakened his mental health, but what truly pushed him over the edge was the wounding of Faramir: Tolkien says that Denethor “maintained the integrity of his personality until the final blow of the (apparently) mortal wound of his only surviving son.”
It’s easy to judge Denethor for using the palantir (although Tolkien said that he had the right to use it and Gandalf admitted that the palantir’s knowledge had often proved useful!) but what should Denethor have done differently regarding sending Faramir into battle? We know that the defense of Osgiliath was necessary because Tolkien had the Rohirrim arrive at the exact moment the Witch King is about to ride through the gate of Minas Tirith. If Faramir hadn’t delayed Mordor’s army, the Rohirrim would have showed up to a conquered city.
Denethor believed that it was necessary to send Faramir to Osgiliath… and he was right! But the pain of being responsible for Faramir’s death was too great for him to bear. You can say that his craving for information killed him, but it’s just as accurate to say that his love for Faramir killed him.
Gandalf tells Denethor’s servants that they were “caught in a net of warring duties,” and this is also true of Denethor. His duty as a father conflicts with his duty as the leader of Gondor, and the strain destroys him.
It may be true that Denethor’s need for control is a character flaw, but I wonder about his final use of the palantir. His son appears to be dying: why does he leave his side to go look in the palantir? I actually think this was a hopeful act: Denethor was hoping to see the Rohirrim, or some kind of good news about the war, some indication that Faramir’s death would not be in vain. But the palantir shows him that he sent his son to die for nothing.
It’s the tragedy of Denethor lamenting “I sent my son forth, unthanked, unblessed, out into needless peril” and dying before he can learn that the battle wasn’t needless… you can’t reduce this tragedy to a morality play!
Okay, I can’t deny that the palantir is a very topical analogy for the internet/smartphones/the tyranny of “data” in general.
But Denethor is so much more than a blackpilled internet doomer, and I will defend him forever.
#SUPERB POST THO THANK YOU SO MUCH <3#maenefa#chats#denethor#denethor defense#tolkien#erran vs tolkien
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Can we talk about how Link just always has the BEST eye makeup. I’m jealous.
Well I mean if you’re talking about hw Link, everyone in his game looks like that, not just him XD
I guess killer eyeliner is just a staple of Hyrule at the time?
#no other Links come to mind but I might just not be thinking of them lol#answers from the floor#anon#hyrule warriors#also I’m no makeup expert I rarely have a reason to wear it#I don’t usually notice when people are wearing makeup lol#unless it’s super bright or something
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Soft Simon "Ghost" Riley Cuddling You 🧸
this is not about dominant tough simon riley, this is about sweet precious baby boy simon riley :3 this is my response to @paper-r-i-n-g-s-and-c-r-o-w-n’s request (here) and the link they included! thank u for being my first request loviee
Simon Riley absolutely loves to be babied when you cuddle him.
Scary Simon. Soldier Simon. 6’4", jacked Simon, walking around the base in his skull mask, scaring anyone who doesn’t know better shitless. To the enemy, he’s like an urban legend - once you realise that he’s there, it’s too late.
And that’s the image that he likes to keep - he grew up tough, and he refuses to be anything but tough. He might be nice now but he wouldn’t hesitate to blow your brains out if you double-crossed him.
That is, until he met you. It was hard to get him to open up at first, with his reluctance to be anything but casually terrifying, and his fear that he would get too attached, just in time for you to leave. But after 6 months together, he’s finally comfortable, and you’ve discovered his soft spot for being praised like a baby.
"Aww…" you coo, stroking his grown-out buzzcut, as he lays on your chest, "my sweet boy." His broad body is holding you down to the bed, and you know you wouldn’t be able to escape from under him if you wanted to. But you don’t mind, after all, it’s sweet to see him like this. With his face pressed into your neck, one strong arm around your waist and the other around your torso, he mumbles softly.
You press soft kisses into the top of his head as you rub his back - he’s been training all day and he’s so tired. :( Poor baby, he really needs you to hold him. His shoulders are sore and as you rub them gently he lets out a little whine, nuzzling his face further into the crook of your neck.
"Mmm," he groans, his voice muffled against your skin.
"Oh, baby…" you pull those hands back up to cradle him to you, "are you okay, sweet boy?"
"Tha’ hurts," he mumbles. He’s not very talkative when he’s like this, he just wants to be held.
"Sorry," you kiss the top of his head apologetically, "is my poor baby sore from training?" He groans as you call him that, nodding in response as he breathes in your scent.
"Speak up for me, sweetheart" you coo.
"’M sore from training."
"Who’s sore..?"
"Me."
"N what’re you, honey..?" you stroke his hair softly, like he’s a precious teddy bear.
"Your baby," he mumbles.
"Good boy." Just a few months ago, Simon would have been mortified by the interaction, but you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger, cuddling up to you like he’s a cat and you’re a heating pad. He is a good boy, and he deserves some comfort after working so hard. 💗💗💗
(my other - nsfw - story about pathetic simon here)
i hope this is what you asked for! i hope it doesn’t come off as too pathetic but also i love writing (and thinking about) sweet pathetic simon. <3 like omg if anyone knows who made the render then lmk so that i can credit! i wasn’t sure who the name on the image referred to
masterlist buy me a coffee
#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#cod#ghost#ghost x reader#fluff#ghost x you#simon riley x reader#cod x reader#headcanon#cod modern warfare#cod headcanons#ghost cod#cod mwii#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty#call of duty x reader#ghost call of duty#ghost fluff#simon riley x female reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley#mactavishsgfandwife#magda waffles
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BRAINWASHED
Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader
Everything’s clean - except for my thoughts. (Thinking about me getting you off.)
Can’t stop thinking you got me B R A I N W A S H E D .
Summary:
Stiles likes you. He really, really, really likes you. It's bordering on obsession, but he likes to believe that he has it under control.
So when you accidentally leave a pair of your panties in his presence, ripe for the taking, and they're in his backpack faster than he can blink - he realizes that he might not have it as under control as he would like to think. But he can't find it to be too much of a problem when he has those panties wrapped around his cock.
Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Best Friend!Fem!Reader. Pining!Stiles/One Sided Fantasies. Panty Stealing. Smut/PWP.
Word Count: 8,000
Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link
Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns and is described as having a vagina; Stiles and the reader have been best friends since childhood and they are in high school now (they are both the same age) (for argument's sake, they are both 18, but the horny parts were motivated by the hotness of a 20-something actor so idc what age you interpret the characters as); the reader's looks are mostly undescribed and left neutral in terms of race, hair texture/colour, height, etc. however the reader is implied to be fat/plus sized; mentions of the reader wearing dresses and tights (things that the other characters on the show would typically wear); mentions of the reader having a cat - I did not give the cat a name so you can imagine it's the same as your cat's name/what you would want your cat to be called if you had one; use of Y/N and L/N (as in Last Name); brief mention that the reader would like wearing bikinis; the reader calls Stiles 'good boy' in non-sexual contexts and it turns him on; mentions of Stiles looking up the reader's skirt when she doesn't know it; some slight dubious consent because Stiles steals the reader's underwear without her consent and uses them in a sexual act (his masturbation); masturbation (Stiles touching himself); this is a one-sided/pining fic - all the sexual acts take place inside Stiles's mind as sexual fantasies while he masturbates; the reader character is described in these sexual acts as they play out in his mind, so that's why she is included heavily in the warnings; Stiles is submissive (even in his own fantasies) and he fantasies about the reader being dominant toward him; Stiles becoming aroused by the idea of the reader not shaving her pussy; technically there is edging - because Stiles edges himself to make his fantasies last longer; panty sniffing (though the panties Stiles took are freshly launder and not used ones); scent kink/sweat kink - Stiles likes the way you smell, including your sweat; kinks and sexual acts mentioned only in Stiles's fantasies (taking place only in his mind in this fic): car sex (in the back of the Jeep (typical, I know)), fingering (reader receiving), degradation kink (Stiles receiving - he likes the idea of the reader insulting him and being mean to him); pussy eating (Stiles fantasizes in depth about this); Reader makes a joke about spanking Stiles and Stiles has a small fantasy about being spanked by her; I think that's finally it.
A/N: Title for the fic comes from the song Brainwashed by Waterparks. Warning - Stiles might be a bit OOC in this because I wrote it before I started re-watching Teen Wolf again (and before I started watching Season 1 for the first time, because previously I had only seen 3B and beyond). In this, I have said that he's flunking classes and he's not really great with studying, while in the show, he's really smart and bookish and really well studied - but it could just be chalked up to the fact that he has a huge crush on the Reader that is distracting him from studying. So, interpret it how you want. I hope that you enjoy it, and please read through to my end notes to find out about a potential sequel to the fic!!
...
Stiles was hopeless.
That was the only way to describe his current state of being. Completely, utterly hopeless.
He was a complete and total loser, hopelessly in love with his best friend. And he was getting more stupidly caught up in that crush every single day. And of course, he didn’t even have the courage to admit his feelings for you so that it could be awkwardly out in the open. So that the two of you could get the rejection part over with, at least.
Basically - his feelings for you were slowly ruining his life.
Stiles had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. Well, maybe not that long.
See, you, him, and Scott had all been friends since the beginning of kindergarten, and naturally, Stiles always liked you as a person. He always thought of you as a good friend, even if he gravitated toward Scott more.
But he distinctly remembered the first moment when he had started to develop a crush on you. It was a very special memory to him - the day when you shifted in his eyes from annoying, slightly nagging friend to a beautiful, fierce woman.
It was the day when the three of you were out on Halloween night during the third grade - and that was around the time people started whispering about crushes in school, when people would have playground girlfriends and boyfriends that they broke up with every other week. That night, a group of eighth grade bullies began chasing the three of you, trying to take your candy.
Without hesitation, you picked up the largest rock in sight and threw it at one of them, causing a large cut across his forehead - and you loudly told them to ‘fuck off’ (the first time Stiles had ever heard such a word when it wasn’t coming from his dad). They had run away, somehow terrified of a girl a foot shorter than them.
That night, you had become his hero.
And since then, you had been the only object of his affections.
Of course, over the years, Stiles had plenty of opportunities to tell you about his feelings for you. He just… always felt too cowardly to do so.
In seventh grade, he had come very close to asking you out to the winter dance - only to have Scott beat him to the punch. When he pulled Scott aside to ask him about it, Scott confessed to him that he also had a crush on you. This resulted in their first ever fistfight. The first ever true rift in their otherwise close, brotherly friendship.
The boys didn’t speak to each other for days. Which, naturally, annoyed the hell out of you. Especially because, of course, neither of them told you why they were fighting, not wanting you to know that you were the source of the rift in their friendship. And to you, this only made the fight seem more stupid and immature.
So finally, when you demanded it, they called a truce. They agreed that they didn’t want to lose their friendship or lose you. They didn’t want to make you choose between them when it wouldn’t make any of you happy.
So Stiles proposed that the three of you should go to the dance as friends, which you loved, and they both got you a corsage, one for each wrist - and the three of you still laughed at the pictures of you holding each of their arms.
Eventually, Scott grew out of his crush on you and moved onto other girls, and he loved that he got to keep you as a close best friend, someone he could go to for dating advice if needed. Scott kept trying to convince Stiles to simply ‘man up’ and tell you about his feelings, but Stiles kept that same sentiment they had concluded upon years ago. Telling you about his feelings would only ruin the friendship. Not just between you, but between the entire group - it would fuck up the pack.
Though it felt like the more he tried to ignore his feelings for you, the more they festered like a tumor. While Scott was able to mature past his crush on you, Stiles only grew more intense, and more insane when it came to his ‘crush’ on you.
Over the years, his crush on you had grown from something sweet and childish into something much more. When puberty truly took over and lust was added into the mix, he now had to deal with the fact that you had grown into a gorgeous woman. He could barely control his arousal when looking at you, hearing your voice, smelling you, talking to you, thinking about you - even simply being in your presence made something in his mind melt. And it was growing much worse with each passing day. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t wake up with a raging boner fueled by sexual dreams of you.
And naturally, he would say that not telling you about his feelings for you was ultimately the best thing for him. He would steadfastly refuse to admit that him being distracted by all these fantasies of you was slowly eroding your friendship from the inside out. Slowly, bit by bit, his worst fears were coming true - your friendship was being ruined by his crush anyway.
But he tried to ignore that. Even if you were the most gorgeous, perfect being ever put on the planet, he tried his hardest to simply enjoy the platonic version of you. He tried to act like he wasn’t stupidly, head over heels in love with you.
He tried not to act like it.
But on nights like this, it was just so hard.
Tonight, the two of you were studying for an upcoming English mid-term that would be worth a decent portion of your final grade.
Logically, Stiles knew that he should have locked himself in his room and forced himself to study independently. Or he should have taken up Scott on his offer to study with him and Allison.
But no, he just had to ask you for your ‘help’.
And you pitied him and said yes, because he was doing poorly in the class. The only reason for that being because it was one of the classes that he shared with you, and he spent all of his damn time staring at you across the room during it. He had tried to tell himself that he really would study tonight, that he would really take advantage of your intelligence here and now to get his shit together in order to up his grade.
But no. That was just one of many daily lies that he told himself. Since the moment he had set foot in your bedroom that afternoon (and it was dark out now, well into the evening) - he hadn’t been able to focus on anything but you.
Sure, sometimes that worked to his benefit. Hearing you recite Shakespeare, the words coming off your sweet lips - it did force him to focus on the material at hand for at least a short period of time. But it wasn’t like he was actually retaining any of it. He was just thinking about how gorgeous your voice sounded and how amazing you would be in an adaptation of Romeo and Juliet. One where he played Romeo, of course - and he would get to use someone else’s well-crafted words to romance you, finally getting to kiss you for the first time.
Again - he was hopeless.
Currently, Stiles was laying diagonally on your bed, sitting among a mess of books - the English textbooks, the assigned novels, the published copies of the play, along with binders of your notes and other notebooks, stray papers. He couldn’t pay attention to the notes he was supposed to be writing, not for a moment, not if his life depended on it. Not when you looked this stunningly beautiful while busy writing your own notes.
With the soft lighting from your bedside lamp brushing across your skin, making that skin look even softer, you were a goddess-like vision sitting on the bed across from him. You were wearing the simple dress that you had worn to school earlier that day, your modest tights since shed off in the name of ‘comfort’ (and so that your cat wouldn’t rip holes in them while crawling across your lap, you had remarked to Stiles). When you had stood at your hamper and peeled them off your legs, Stiles had a hard time not letting the drool spill out across his chin.
Your thighs were gorgeous. Thick, wide, spread out like a buffet for his eyes to feast on every single time you sat down. From his angle, laying down the way he was, he was up close and personal with the dimpling cellulite and stretchmarks you had there. The hem of your dress had ridden up when you had adjusted your position to get comfortable, and he felt absolutely spoiled by how much more of your thighs were revealed to him.
A few times throughout the evening, he had to physically clench his fingers, tight, to remind himself not to reach out and touch. To remind himself that he wasn’t allowed to touch. The last thing he wanted to do was to creep you out by randomly reaching out and touching your thigh. But he wanted so badly to touch.
How many times had he imagined what those thighs would look like bouncing and jiggling while you rode his cock? How many times had he imagined those thighs clamped around his head while he licked your pussy? (Far too many times for the good of his own sanity.)
Not to mention the concentration spread across your face - you were so fucking hot when you showed off your intelligence. Hell everything about you was hot - your sweetness, your laughter, your sarcasm, even your bitchy side. But your bookish side had to be one of Stiles’s favorites.
The way you would nibble your own lip when thinking, the way your brows furrowed slightly in thought. Everything about you - from the bra strap sticking out of the neckline of your dress to the chipped edge of your nail polish where you had chewed on it - you were a fucking vision. And Stiles couldn’t take his eyes off you, no matter how hard he tried.
It was a wonder that you didn’t notice Stiles staring at you - not as often as he did it.
Stiles felt strangely caught when you put down your pen and looked up from your notebook, then. He quickly scrambled to grab his own pencil and start writing something, to look busy. But of course, he just looked like more of an idiot when the eraser end began scraping across the page in nonsense patterns.
“Stiles,” You scolded him with a sigh, a way he was used to hearing his name come off your lips. “Have you gotten anything done? I told you to copy down at least half my notes-”
Of course. You pegged his blank page as simple laziness, rather than his brain slowly melting out through his ears due to his inability to think about anything but you (especially when he was in the same room as you). At least he hadn’t been caught staring at you in that creepy way yet.
You snatched up his notebook to check his work, and his heart dropped - if you looked too carefully, then he would be caught. In the back of that notebook, there were about three pages of his name and yours in hearts, and a few times he had practiced writing his signature as ‘Mr Stiles L/N’. (He was a feminist, and he liked the idea of starting a new tradition.) There was even a drawing he had made designing your theoretical wedding cake, including a cake topper where he was Superman and you were riding on his back while he was flying.
“Y/N, uh-”
He quickly snatched the notebook back, causing a glare from you while he sighed in defeat.
“Fine.” He shrugged, knowing that he had to admit to a smaller crime in order to cover up the larger one. It was something that he did with his father all too often. “I didn’t get anything done. I was slacking off. You caught me.”
“Stiles!” You scolded him again, reaching out to gently smack his shoulder. “If you keep this shit up, you’re never gonna graduate!”
Sadly, you were probably right. His crush on you was absolutely going to ruin him.
“Well, you could just let me copy off you,” He replied, giving you a wide grin that let you know he was mostly kidding.
You rolled your eyes in reply, and soon your gaze caught sight of the clock on your nightstand.
“Well, it seems like you have wasted enough of my time for tonight.” You scoffed sarcastically.
Stiles knew that you had intended this to be a joke - but he couldn’t help the twinge of pain the words caused in his gut. The idea that he was truly just a waste of time in your life. He pressed his lips tightly together to suppress a frown and didn’t say anything more, and then you continued.
“It’s almost your curfew anyway.” You pointed out, gesturing toward the clock. You were right. Stiles hadn’t even noticed how late it was getting - too busy enjoying his time with you. “We’ll pack it up for the night - but you should meet me at the library tomorrow morning, early, so we can go over everything again before the exam.”
Of course, you were still invested in the idea of him getting a good grade, even if that seemed unlikely to happen.
“You’re gonna make me get up early?” He whined, hating the idea of missing out on even ten extra minutes of sleep.
“Yes.” You stressed. “I want you there at seven o’clock. Sharp.”
Your ultra serious voice ordering him around was undeniably a turn-on for him. No matter what sexual fantasies Stiles cooked up about you in his mind, he could never picture himself having full control over you. In fact, most of the time, he found himself covered in cum at the idea of you having complete control over him. And it was likely because this was how most of your friendship went - you told him what to do, and he did it. And that was a huge part of why he fell for you in the first place.
When he didn’t verbally confirm the time, too caught up in his infatuation yet again, you let out a gentle growl of frustration.
“Stiles!” You called out his name. “You have to be there at seven. So you can’t get out of bed at seven - you have to set your alarm for like six-thirty, got it? Don’t make me come over there and get your ass out of bed like last time.”
This thought caused Stiles’s stomach to clench.
The last time you had come to his house to wake him up for school (because he had agreed to help you with some bakesale project and you were pissed off that he wasn’t there early to help you set up tables and whatnot) - you had charged into his house in a fury. You had your own key, of course, and his dad wasn’t there to busy you with conversation or pleasantries.
And you charged right up the stairs and nearly caught him with a hand around his cock, jerking off to a picture of you in a bikini from the summer before. And he had rushed to shove the picture in his nightstand and cocoon himself in the comforter to hide his body just as you made it to the top of the stairs, shouting at him for being late. Luckily, he had gotten away with the lie that he had slept in, rather than revealing the truth that he had been distracted because he had woken up with morning wood after having a heated dream about you.
When Stiles didn’t respond yet again, you grabbed a smaller decorative pillow from behind you and lightly hit him with it for emphasis, causing him to burst into laughter.
“Promise me you’ll be on time!” You said, smacking him with the pillow again.
“Yes, yes! I promise!” He finally agreed, his face becoming pink from laughter.
You dropped the pillow then, and leaned down, causing his eyes to inadvertently go straight to your cleavage while you gave him a gentle, friendly kiss on the forehead.
“Good boy.” You responded, praising him for agreeing to your terms. Obviously, it was another joke.
But these praising words combined with your lips even slightly brushing against his skin, along with your tits dangling so close to his face, had his cock swelling to hardness nearly instantly. He grabbed the pillow then, trying to look subtle as he put it over his crotch, desperately trying to hide the very obvious bulge that had popped up at the front of his jeans within seconds.
He was lucky when you shifted your attention away from him, now busy with cleaning off the bed, gathering your textbooks in a pile and moving to put them on your desk in the corner. You being distracted gave him a few moments to try and mentally will his dick down, which worked slightly. Only slightly.
“You could help me, you know.” You mocked him lightly - distracting him from his thoughts of baseball, trying to will the blood out of his cock.
He looked up and saw you standing there with his backpack, putting away his textbooks and notebooks now. He had been so dumbly distracted by his own dick that he hadn’t noticed you taking the kind initiative to clean up his things for him too.
“Right, sorry.” He jumped into action and did so, taking things from your hands and shoving them into his bag with haste.
“You don’t have to rush out, I just need the bed cleared off so I can pick out my clothes for tomorrow.” You told him.
“Wait - you actually pick out your clothes in advance?” He asked, thinking that this was entirely adorable, and explained why you were always so well dressed.
(And it explained why you were always so punctual in the mornings while Stiles was usually a mess - running around his house still half-asleep, shoving his head into a shirt that he had sniffed to see if it was clean, shoving things frantically into his bag in order to get out the door five minutes late.)
“Well you know not all of us are okay with just throwing on last week’s mustard stained tee shirt,” You said, playfully pointing to a mustard stain that he had on his shirt from lunch.
He rolled his eyes in return, trying to ignore the slight twist of embarrassment that wanted to swell up inside of him at the comment.
There had been a point where he used to make a very pointed effort to impress you. Back when his crush on you had first gotten serious - likely around the beginning of high school. He used to get up early every single morning, spending a lot of time being intensely picky about the clothes he wore. He drowned himself in cologne (until you had complained about it), he wore certain colors just because you mentioned liking them. But none of it seemed to garner any more of your attention than usual.
And so, he resigned himself to be the loser best friend who would always just float at the corners of your life, drowning in his secret affection for you until some better, hotter guy came along and swept you off your feet one day.
He was just glad that day hadn’t come yet.
Stiles was hesitant to leave - he wasn’t done being around you for the day yet, too emotionally attached. But he guessed that he would need to get some decent sleep before waking up at the asscrack of dawn in order to see more of you the next morning. (Even if it would include the horrors of studying at the library.)
“So - I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” He posed, ready to take his leave as he swung his backpack over his shoulder.
“Ooh, wait one second.” You said, eagerness twinging through your voice.
His heart pounded hard in his chest for a moment, wondering if this could be the moment he had been waiting so long for - would you stop him there, grab him by the shoulders and kiss him hard, and then tell him that you had been feeling the exact same way as he had for all these years?
“Which one?” You asked, spinning around from your closet to face him, holding up two dresses on hangers.
Oh. You were asking for his opinion about what you should wear to school the next day.
“The blue one.” Stiles said, motioning towards it. “That shade of blue looks beautiful on you - it compliments your skin tone well, and it makes you shine. But ya know, you look gorgeous in everything. You could wear a paper bag to school and everyone would still be jealous of how amazing you look.”
He rambled on for a moment too long, and realized that his genuine fondness for you - something straying too far into romantic territory - was slipping out.
“But - uh, yeah. I’ll see you later.” He quickly added on, now eager to leave before you could make any further comments.
Then he dashed out of your room and down the stairs, getting out the front door so fast that he practically left a poof of cartoon dust behind him.
He got into the Jeep and tossed his bag into the passenger’s seat - which, he hadn’t realized was not even zipped up. (A habit you often scolded him for - going around with his bag unzipped.) Papers and books spilled across the seat and underneath it, and he let out a loud growl of frustration.
“Idiot!” He screamed, scolding himself as he leaned down, trying to clean everything up. “Idiot, idiot, idiot!”
Partially, he was feeling so idiotic because he had just been so vulnerable with you and you probably thought he was weird for it. Actually, that was mostly why.
As he was picking up his things, he realized that - yup, he was missing his English textbook. He had forgotten it in your room. He heaved out a sigh and collapsed back against his seat. He could leave without it - but then he would get an earful from you in the morning about how he was ‘forgetful’ and ‘irresponsible’. Ugh.
He got out of the Jeep again and shuffled his way back into your house - your mom was working late, so there was nobody there to question him running out of the house at top speed and then appearing back so soon. All he got was a curious chirp and a head tilt from your cat, who was sitting on the top of the stairs.
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Stiles remarked to the animal, stopping for a moment to pet him. “I’m pathetic. But you can’t rat me out, okay? I know she thinks highly of your opinion and I need you to put in a good word for me. Got it?”
The cat purred and pushed his face into Stiles’s hand, so he assumed that was a positive affirmation that he would root for Stiles - or at the very least, keep his secret.
Stiles linger for a moment to scratch the cat’s furry cheek, and then he stepped over the cat and made his way back toward your room. He passed the closed bathroom door and heard the shower running, and he almost cheered. If you were in the shower, then you wouldn’t notice him slipping back in to grab his book, so you couldn’t scold him for being a forgetful idiot.
He went into your room, and the second he made it through the mouth of your open bedroom, his eyes locked onto your bed like a hot target. Your clothes for the following day were spread out so neatly, and right there, on top of the blue dress he had suggested - there was a pair of lacy purple panties that were something right out of one of his fantasies.
Stiles had thought about your underwear before - many times. Too many times to count.
He had even caught small, passing glimpses of your underwear before - when you had worn dresses without tights and bent over in front of him. But he had only seen enough of it to determine the color, not to know if it was lacy or silk or cotton. And even that was enough to send him into a tailspin that had him rushing to the bathroom to relieve his aching cock.
In the back of his mind - or truly, the forefront of his mind whenever he jerked off to thoughts of you - he always wondered what kind of underwear you wore. What kind of decorative wrapping your pretty pussy would come in if he ever got the other-worldly privilege of getting his hands up your skirt.
Would they be simple, practical cotton underwear? Would they be cute? Would they be sinfully sexy? Would they be those underwear with the days of the week written across the front?
But seeing this now - seeing the tangible evidence in front of him that you actually planned to wear purple lacy lingerie to school - it was something that had all sense draining from his mind as blood rushed to his cock once again. He barely had time to think about it - and he didn’t think about it. Because then, they were in his hands, in his pocket, and he was back in the Jeep, hiding his stolen goods in his bag and hastily zipping it up so he could slam his foot on the gas and race home.
He didn’t even have a chance to think about the fact that he left without the textbook that he had gone back into your room looking for. He didn’t have the attention span to notice that said textbook was in a stack along with your own - almost as if purposefully kept there like an excuse to lure him back into your room, rather than clumsily forgotten by him.
…
When Stiles got into his room, he slammed his bedroom door shut behind him, now entirely frantic, and thankful that his father was working a late shift again. He sat down on the edge of his bed, his hands shaking with anticipation as he unzipped his bag and pulled out the thing he had so hastily snagged.
His mind was warring with so many sensations. Guilt for taking the panties, paranoia that he would get caught, shame that he even had the urge to take them in the first place - but all of that was easily toppled over and forgotten in the name of lust. Overwhelming lust and arousal that he felt for you. Greed and joy at knowing that he had something so private of yours in his hands now - something so secret that he shouldn’t have. A perfect little piece of you.
His little secret piece of you.
He still couldn’t believe that this was the kind of underwear you wore on a daily basis.
Just imagining that this was what you wore to school - thinking about the fact that this was what you were wearing under your clothes during your everyday interactions with him: it drove him wild.
He easily pictured this pretty lace sticking to your cunt when you were wet, the lavender colored material getting slick and slightly darker, soaked through and visibly sticky when you spread your legs for him to see. He wondered if your pussy would be shaved or not - but you didn’t have a boyfriend, so currently, you didn’t have anybody to shave for.
He remembered a conversation from a few weeks ago where Scott had wondered if he should shave his pubes for Allison and you had remarked that ‘putting a razor near your junk’ was ‘ill-advised and stupid’ - so you probably didn’t even like shaving your pussy on principle.
This immediately put a picture in his mind of your pussy being covered in soft hair that matched the shade on your head - maybe a bit darker. It would clump together with your juices and become soaked when you got wet. The little hairs would probably stick out cutely from the sides of the bikini cut underwear, peeking at him.
Your pussy would be the prettiest thing he had ever seen, he knew that for certain.
Stiles imagined getting you in the backseat of the Jeep one night after a game.
He would still be covered in sweat from his efforts, worn out from trying his best. Sure, he wasn’t the best player, but you wanted to ‘reward’ him for his efforts on the winning side, even if he hadn’t directly contributed to the win.
So as soon as the game was over, before he even had time to change out of his pads or shower, you hauled him to the parking lot and shoved him into the car. His gear was only half-off, ditched hastily by your feet, and you were in his lap - a perfect prize after all the hard work he had done, sitting astride his already sore thigh muscles while you kissed him - hard. Your mouth greedily sucked the oxygen out of his lungs while you shoved your tongue past his lips, painting his tongue with your sweet spit - and fuck, it felt like he was made for this.
He got sucked so deep into the fantasy - it felt so damn real.
He imagined having his hands splayed out against your beautiful, plump ass, gripping you tightly, noting wanting you to separate from him for even a section. While you held on tightly to his face, sealing him into the kiss until his lips were sore. And you would only pull back to look into his eyes with glossy desperation and utter out:
“Please, Stiles. I need you. I need you to touch my pussy.”
And what else could he do but obey?
So he would lift up your skirt - a particularly short skirt that you had worn with nothing else but a pair of knee-high socks. Something that you knew he loved to see you cheer for him on the sidelines while wearing. Even though it was a chilly night, you couldn’t feel too cold when you saw him glancing at you every single chance he got. Of course, those distracted stares had gotten him screamed at by Coach more than once. But he loved the way your skirt would flutter up in the nighttime breeze, teasing him. The way the fucking beautiful thick fat of your thighs would jiggle whenever you would jump around in order to cheer him on.
He was a man of simple, divine tastes.
So - he would lift up that perfect skirt to find those purple lacy panties underneath; to find the perfection of your wet cunt waiting for him, growing slicker by the second, more needy for him. You were humping yourself against his athletic cup, which his hard cock was practically dying inside of, bursting to get out of the hard shell of plastic to touch you. But he ignored his own needs for a few minutes longer in favor of yours. Reaching forward, sliding his fingers along the wet spot at the front of your panties, absolutely indulging in the beautiful gasp you let out when his touch grazed across your swollen clit through the fabric.
“Stiles, please.”
He could almost hear it - it was so fucking clear inside his mind. The way your voice would be so pitched with desperation, so perfectly needy curled around his name. He wanted so badly to hear it in real life.
And he would push those panties to the side, pushing his fingers inside of your hot, wet cunt-
Back in the real world, Stiles’s cock gave a needy pulse, leaking into his boxers.
He heaved out a sigh, his cock practically vibrating with blood. He had driven home the whole time trying to ignore that boner, but he simply couldn’t do that anymore. He just had to give in.
He hesitantly put your panties aside - already feeling a strange sense of attachment to them - and reached to his nightstand, grabbing the bottle of lube that he had in the drawer. Shamefully, it was already half empty, mostly due to the fantasies that he had about you. He undid his pants and had them around his ankles in record time, and whipped off his shirt for good measure, knowing that he was quite a ‘splasher’ and not wanting to get cum on it to pair with that ugly mustard stain.
He lubed up his cock more than a healthy amount, knowing that it would contribute to the fantasy of you being so wet around him. It was a distant fantasy that he would never actually get to achieve, but hell - a man can dream. Then he began to slowly pump his cock in hand, wanting to milk it and truly enjoy it, and he let his mind get back to work.
He thought back to your place. A place he was comfortable, spent a lot of time at hanging out with you.
He imagined that early that night when he had forgotten his book, rather than you being in the shower, he went back to your room and found that you had been getting ready for bed. You were rubbing sweet-smelling lotion on your arms, pulling back the covers, wearing nothing but a pair of cute little socks, a tiny camisole - where he could very visibly see that you weren’t wearing a bra, with the natural teardrop shape of your breasts bared to the eye, your nipples poking through the fabric - and those purple lace panties.
When he would appear in the doorway, you would gawk at him and ask:
“Stiles? What are you doing? Did you… forget something?”
But you would be positioned half leaning over the bed, taking back the covers so it would be comfortable for you to sleep - and your ass would be unintentionally on full display. Your sweet pussy lips peeking at him from behind, the roundness of your ass so fucking inviting, daring him to leave bite marks across the beautifully fat flesh.
And after a few moments of him staring so brazenly, saying nothing, simply drinking in the gorgeous sight of your body bent over, wearing so little clothing, wearing those perfect little lace panties-
(Stiles sped up his hand on his cock, the lube sounding downright sloppy in the silence of the room.)
You would stand up to your full height, come to him in the doorway, put your face so close to his and say:
“If you’re gonna spend so much time staring at me like a gaping idiot, then you should do something about it.”
Stiles had to stop the swift movements of his hand and clutch his grip tightly around the base of his cock, making his entire dick throb hard as he edged off his own orgasm.
He still wasn’t sure why the idea of you calling him an ‘idiot’ in such a brazen tone made him want to cum so hard - but he didn’t have time to unpack all that now.
He grabbed up the panties again with his non-lubed hand. Something in the back of his mind thought that it would be a crime for him to get them dirty. Another part argued that he would absolutely love to get them covered in his cum, not clean them, and then return them to you. That it would be fucking thrilling to have you wear them in that dirtied state.
Though he knew that would never fucking happen.
If he returned the panties to you covered in his cum, then you would slap him, call him a pervert, and likely have Scott beat the shit out of him with his newly harnessed werewolf strength. Stiles pushed this thought to the back of his mind, though.
Out of curiosity, he lifted the fabric to his nose and took a whiff. They smelled like fresh laundry - a nice lemony detergent. Of course they weren’t ones you had previously worn - they were a pair you had been planning on wearing tomorrow.
He distantly wondered if that meant you would not be wearing underwear tomorrow, because he had taken your intended pair. And that could have led his mind down a whole different filthy track, but instead - he began to wonder what a pair of your dirty underwear might smell like.
You should take a pair of used ones. A voice in his mind told him. Snatch them right out of the hamper. Come on, you’re over at her place all the time. She won’t even notice them gone.
Terrible idea. Terrible rabbit hole.
But what would they smell like?
He wasn’t deluded enough to think that pussy smelled like roses. He had never been close enough to one - a real pussy - before to actually know. Yes, he was a virgin. He could have said that he was waiting, ‘saving it’ for you - but every other girl, including you, was smart enough to look past him. There were plenty of other guys who were better looking and more charming than him, and probably better in bed than him, that girls had chosen instead of him.
He wondered if your pussy smelled like that perfect bit of sweat that you gathered at the end of a long day. Sometimes when he went to hug you before the two of you parted ways, he would catch a whiff of the tiniest undertone of musk, a good amount of sweat paired with the berry scented body spray you had put on that morning, and orange tic-tacs you had popped after lunch. It was a delectable combination.
He imagined that your cunt would smell like that bit of sweat, combined with the blueberry body wash you used - the one he knew about and loved because of the time you had insisted he use your shower while stinking up a study session because he had skipped the showers after lacrosse practice when he was late to be with you.
He imagined getting hints of that blueberry body wash smell coming off your thighs when his head was buried between them. What would your cunt taste like? That was a mystery he wanted to solve live.
He could always imagine the other aspects so well.
He could imagine the feeling of the heat under his tongue, the perfect feeling of your wetness mixing with his spit. He imagined getting to bounce your swollen clit against his tongue and while feeling your moans and cries of his name vibrate through your body as he pleasured you so well - the feeling of your pubes brushing against his cheeks as his entire face became soaked with your wetness.
But the taste - that was something he could never conjure up in his mind, no matter how hard he tried.
He knew that eating your pussy would be perfect. Not just because he would be giving you pleasure, serving you. But he so often dreamed of having his head smothered by your thighs, having you grab his head and shove him tighter into your cunt, you purposeful and demanding. You having that beautiful control over him while he drowned in your wetness.
He knew that he would likely cum in his pants from eating you out if he ever got the privilege of doing so, and even if you laughed at him - stupidly, he would find that hot too.
Stiles picked up the pace again, pumping his cock in hand evenly and firmly - even reaching down with the other hand to cradle his balls, gently rolling the flesh in his hand as he got lost in another fantasy of you.
He imagined the two of you in his bed - textbooks forgotten and pushed off onto the floor, your dress hiked up around your hips, and again, those fucking purple lace panties. He was on top of you, hovering on his knees so that his hard cock wouldn’t brush against you (even through his jeans) while the two of you sloppily made-out.
It wasn’t long before you pulled away from his kiss-swollen lips.
“Stiles,” You purred into his ear, kissing along his neck. “You know, you’re so pathetic.”
These words had his cock jumping, spurting out precum - in his fantasy, it made his underwear messy as you undid his fly.
In the real world, it made his hand messy as he continued to rhythmically jerk his cock.
“I’m not gonna let you fuck me.” You told him, contrasting these words with your intentions as you put your hands inside his waistband and shoved his pants and underwear down over his hips - down to his knees until his hard, throbbing cock was exposed. “Not until you prove yourself.”
Before Stiles could ask the question, the beautiful, fantastic you that he had made up inside his mind gave him the perfect answer.
“Get yourself off by rubbing your pathetic dick against my panties. And then - I might let you fuck me.”
In the real world, Stiles let out a throttled moan - a choked sound that surely would have had his father knocking on the door to ask if he was okay if he was at home. And then he rushed to grab the panties again, and without even thinking, he used his sticky lubed up hand to position the fabric around his dick. It was a coarse roughness compared to the slick smoothness he had previously been feeling, but it did wonders to complete his fantasy as he delved back to the you inside of his mind.
He started rubbing the slightly lube-sticky rough fabric up and down his dick at a very slow pace as he imagined it:
Being perched between your thighs, with the fabric of the panties stuck to your wet cunt, his cock hard and leaking as he tucked himself right up against you and began to rub his dick against you in order to get off. Just like you wanted, just like you had ordered him to do.
“Please.” Stiles chanted, the words leaking out of his lips, chanted into his empty bedroom as he pleaded to the imaginary you that would always have a hold over him - just as tight of a hold as the real you had. “Please, please - oh fuck.”
He moved the fabric over his cock faster as he moved his hips faster in the fantasy, imagining how hot your pussy would feel against him, imagining your nails digging into his hips as you looked up at him with mocking and adoration in your eyes. He imagined you forcing his hips faster, trapping him in place with your knees bracketed around his thighs, showing him absolutely no mercy.
“Please, please, please.” He chanted, knowing with a distant part of his mind that he must have sounded utterly delirious. “Please, Y/N, lemme cum-”
“Cum for me, Stiles.”
Confirmed by that fantasy version of you and truly unable to hold it any longer, Stiles arched up off the bed, cumming all over his own fist. Just as he had predicted, it was an utter, uncontrollable mess. He shot cum all over his stomach, and absolutely soaked the fabric of the panties - making a horrible mess of them. Which, the lube had definitely already done. He laid there for a single moment catching his breath before it truly hit him.
Fuck. He had fucked up.
You would definitely notice the underwear missing after a while and he certainly couldn’t return them to you in this condition.
…
Stiles spent the next hour in the bathroom, absolutely panicking over how to get them clean. Luckily, he wasn’t a total idiot and he looked up the washing instructions online - and after hand-washing them in warm water with a ‘gentle’ detergent (handsoap was the best that he could do), they came out perfectly clean.
The only problem?
Hang to dry.
He set his alarm for early, earlier than you suggested, and prayed that he wouldn’t sleep through it. In fact, he set three more alarms just to make sure. He couldn’t have you or his father barging into his room to wake him up when he had a pair of your stolen panties pinned to his corkboard in order to properly dry them so that he could sneak them back to you in good condition.
…
The next day, he departed for school by 6:45 with the stolen goods hidden away in his bag, ready to sneak them back into your room later that afternoon. He made it to the library ten whole minutes before seven, and you seemed shocked that he was not only on time - but early.
“Wow.” You said, having just gotten there yourself, spreading out your items at a table - including a tray with some coffees. “You know, Stiles, I am impressed.”
“You don’t have to act so - so shocked.” He replied, partially interrupted by a yawn.
You leaned over to get a pen from your bag, and Stiles’s eyes immediately went to your ass, unconsciously trying to spot panty lines through your dress and tights - wondering if you were even wearing underwear because he had stolen the ones you had intended for today.
Focus, Stiles. Focus.
“Well, if you weren’t here by seven sharp like I told you, I was gonna pour this in the garbage.” You told him, taking his coffee out of the paper tray and sliding it toward him.
“You don’t have to be so mean.” He chuckled, airy and light - very secretly annoyed with the way your ‘mean’ streak affected him sometimes. Why did he have to be turned on by you scolding him and punishing him? Why?
“Hey, if I’m not mean then you never get anything done.” You told him truthfully. “And you know how it works by now. Good boys get rewards and bad boys get spanked.” You told him, letting out a bright laugh - indicating that it was clearly meant to be a joke.
But instantly, it shook his mind with imagery of you bending him over the table, ripping his pants down and spanking him until he came untouched and cried for mercy, forcing him to agree that he would behave and listen to you. He became downright dizzy at the thought.
You meant it as a joke - he had to sharply remind himself. But the way you so casually called him a ‘good boy’, said that he was deserving of a ‘reward’ - it sent chills down his spine and already had his cock waking up. Too early. Bad rabbit hole.
If he was any sort of brave, he would have pushed it more and asked you what kind of ‘reward’ you had in mind. But he wasn’t, and he was too tired to analyze the potential consequences.
“Oh!” You said, as though suddenly remembering something. You moved to grab your bag again and Stiles closed his eyes to forcefully keep himself from staring at your ass. “You left this at my place last night.” You told him, sliding his English textbook across the table toward him.
He was too busy trying to calm his own lust that he missed the smirk on your face - the mischief lingering in your eyes, the intention in your tone. He was too caught up, drowning in his own affections for you that he never would have pieced together that you had taken in and hidden it on purpose as a ploy to get him to come back. That you had put out some other bait for him to find.
“Thanks.” He said quietly. “So - what do we need to go over before the test?”
“Everything.”
Stiles groaned.
...
Due to much pressure, not the sequel has been posted. I am fully of the belief that this fic is complete and perfect on its own, but if you would like to keep reading, click on the link below. I highly encourage you to leave a comment before you press on, though, and tell me what you enjoyed about this fic since you have gotten this far.
Happy reading!
Keeping Reading Here: Stupid For You - Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader
#sundrop writes#stiles stilinski x reader#dylan o'brian x reader#dylan o'brien smut#stiles stilinksi smut#stiles stilinksi imagine#stiles stilinksi fanfiction#stiles stilinski#stiles x reader#teen wolf#teen wolf x y/n#teen wolf x reader#teen wolf fanfiction#teen wolf smut
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Beating the Heat while Fat: A Summer Survival Guide
Summer is (almost) here and it’s going to be hotter than ever. If you’re fat (like me), you know how much hot weather sucks. Specifically, we get to deal with fun issues like underboob sweat, chub rub, skin fold sunburn, and more. And while I like to take a body neutral approach to everything, this can be hard in summer thanks to exclusion and neglect.
The thing is that not a lot of people really... talk about these things, though, because that would interfere with our image of summer. Not a lot of companies are marketing their stuff as a solution to fat people’s problems, because that would be acknowledging that fat people might actually want to go outside during summer.
Having been fat for many a summer now, I want to share some of my resources for enjoying summer! These are all based on personal recommendations and things I have directly experienced. Please feel free to reblog and add on with your experiences and recommendations!
However, if your commentary is even remotely fatphobic, you will be blocked and your comments will be deleted. This post is not for you, and nobody is actually interested in what you have to say!
Back and Underboob Sweat
Two words: Gold Bond. Gold Bond fixes this. It comes in powder, stick, and spray form. I’ve used the powder in shoes, but not on my body. They’ve recently released an invisible form of the spray, which I’m very excited about.
Spray this under your breast tissue or other skin folds, or on flat areas of skin like your lower back that tend to sweat. Some of their powders have aloe in them, which is delightfully soothing for the skin.
Make sure that if you’re sensitive to scent, you buy one of the unscented versions. The “fresh” scent is nice, but it is a scent!
When you’re using this type of spray, do it clean but dry. Don’t do it right after a shower- give your skin a chance to dry off. Lift your breast or skin fold, spray underneath, and then hold it for a couple of seconds to let the spray dry down.
You can also use other types of powder, like body powder or baby powder. There’s mixed evidence about talc-containing powder and its link to cancer, but some people do find talcum powder more irritating than talc-free powder, so whether or not you use this is up to you.
Do keep in mind that this is NOT sunscreen! Apply your sunscreen first for areas of exposed skin.
Chub Rub
Dealing with the tops of your thighs rubbing together is extremely unfun. There are a couple of ways I like to deal with this!
Slip Shorts
I actually reviewed a bunch of these a few years ago. Slip shorts or bike shorts are perfect for wearing under dresses or loose-fitting rompers as a way to stop your thighs from rubbing. As a bonus, if you’re using bike shorts, sometimes they come with extra pockets to stash stuff in.
Friction Sticks
If you’re wearing a swimsuit and don’t want to wear shorts, or just don’t want to wear shorts, period, then a friction stick is another good way to avoid chub rub! I have a couple, Bodyglide and Gold Bond.
If you’re buying Bodyglide, they have one that’s just as good, Bodyglide Outdoor, that is sometimes cheaper. There’s a Bodyglide “For Her” which I’ve never tried, but that’s usually more expensive and let’s be real, do you really need to moisturize your inner thighs? I think not!
There’s also creams you can use but I find those messy and less effective than the sticks. You might like them, though! Experiment with products to find the one(s) that work for you.
Friction sticks can also stop foot blisters. Rub a little on your heel, toe, or wherever you get hot spots.
Dealing With Sweat
I sweat, you sweat, we all sweat. Humans were meant to sweat. Sweating’s a good thing. But that doesn’t mean it’s fun, and frankly I hate being sweaty. Typically, fat people sweat more than thin people, for several reasons related to the way we thermoregulate.
Fortunately, there are lots of ways to make summer sweating less annoying. I’ve written about this before, so you can check out that post for some of my favorite tips for dealing with sweat. Here’s some of the highlights.
Evaporative Cooling
A bandanna or other wrap filled with water crystals can do AMAZING things. You can make this yourself really easily- if you can’t find water crystals, you can just use Orbeez. They sell little 99 cent packs of those in the checkout lines at some stores and at the dollar store, and you can make several cooling wraps with one packet.
You can also get evaporative cooling towels, like Frogg Toggs. I don’t like those as much because they tend to start smelling a little funny, but they’re great for larger area coverage.
Using these will help cool you down and will do the same thing that sweat does– without being sticky.
Hair
If you have long hair, get it off the back of your neck. I used to put it up in a bun with a bun former, but now I just use claw clips. They’re cuter and easier! Seriously, this will help you so much. Get the hair up and away from your skin, you’ll feel so much better.
Hand Fans
I always have a hand fan with me, but not one of the little battery operated ones. I’ve tried a lot of those! I even took one up a mountain once, and it was the only reason I survived. But they never provide the same level of breeze that my folding fan does.
I use this one because it’s cute, and you can get cute ones for a couple bucks on Amazon. I do prefer fabric to the stiff paper ones, just because they’re a bit more durable- I’ve had mine for years now. It’s good.
I’m also not a huge fan of those fans that go around your neck, but I’ve seen many people enjoying them. If they work for you, great!
Hydration and Electrolytes
Carry water with you when you go places, and if you’re gonna be out for a while doing anything strenuous, take some electrolyte tablets with you. I like Nuun because I think they taste good, but there’s lots of brands out there.
There’s no one mineral called electrolyte, just so you know. Electrolytes are a group of minerals that includes sodium, potassium, and chloride as the primary (or significant) electrolytes. Electrolytes are important because they have a natural positive or negative electrical charge when dissolved in water. This electricity is how your nerves transmit information and how your cells make your muscles contract, so low levels of electrolytes can cause some serious issues. Different electrolyte imbalances have different symptoms, but common symptoms include nausea, fatigue, confusion, tremors, muscle spasms (cramps), and dizziness.
If you’re feeling those as you’re moving around outside, get somewhere cool, drink some water, and either eat some food or add electrolyte tablets to your water. This will help stabilize you quickly!
Skin Fold Sunburn Prevention
Everybody should wear sunscreen, period. End of story.
But if you’re applying sunscreen by yourself and you have skin folds, it can be a pain to reach them! This is especially true for any folds that form on your upper back or around your upper arm.
These areas can burn and be very painful, especially if you’re in swimwear or a sleeveless top. It’s also VERY easy to forget that these areas need sunscreen!
If you don’t want or don’t have someone to help you apply those areas you can’t reach, spray sunscreen can be a way to get those areas. If you don’t like the spray or want heavier coverage with a cream, then use a lotion applicator!
If the stick style doesn’t work for you (like if you have shoulder mobility issues), the strap style asks for a different range of motion. If you can’t find one that works for you at a big box store, look at a pharmacy. These are often sold as disability aids or for elderly people with a reduced range of motion.
But honestly, one of the most important things about this is just knowing your body. Know where your skin folds are and think about how they move as you’re applying sunscreen. Get underneath them- as you move, those areas can be exposed to the sun, too.
So yeah, that’s my best advice for beating the heat while fat. If you’ve got other tips, feel free to share them!
#summer#body neutrality#i do not know how to tag this#also please don't complain about the length of the post#it's a reference guide a tldr would be meaningless
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The First Time They See You
🎥 Reading Contents:
First Impressions
Their Immediate Thoughts
What They Think About You
🎞️ Extended Reading Contents:
How You Make Them Feel
What They Tell Others About You
Impact on the Future Relationship
This reading is for entertainment purposes only! Take only what resonates be it all, some or none! ✨
LINKS: Reading Masterlist | Dividers | Ko-Fi | Patreon | Patreon Masterlist | Paid Readings | Paid Readings - $10 and Under - Open 🥂
Pile 1
First Impressions
Cards: Eight of Pentacles, Queen of Pentacles, Page of Wands, The Forgotten, The Founder
For some reason, the first thing that popped into my mind was We Built This City on Rock and Roll. I’m not sure if that resonates with someone here, but it feels relevant—maybe you give off a bit of a rebel vibe, or it’s reflected in the way you dress or carry yourself. Something along those lines.
When it comes to first impressions, the one you leave on your person might not necessarily stick—and that’s not a bad thing. It could simply be that while you remember meeting them, they might not, or the other way around.
I get the sense that your person sees you as someone who’s done well for themselves. They likely think of you as someone who works hard to get where you are. You might give off an air of enjoying life’s luxuries, though not necessarily in a flashy way. It could be more about appreciating the little luxuries, the small joys that bring comfort or happiness.
They might also see you as someone who’s open to adventure. A scene keeps playing in my mind: you’re chatting with someone, maybe in a store, and your person is off to the side, casually observing. It’s like the way you’d notice someone having a conversation—not really focused on them, but still aware of their presence.
Their Immediate Thoughts
Cards: Nine of Cups, The Sun, The Hanged Man
Your person will really like you. I think they’ll see you as someone who radiates joy or has the ability to bring happiness into people’s lives effortlessly. You might have this knack for lifting their spirits or brightening their mood. There’s something about you that will subtly shift their perspective as well—like a little spark of insight or inspiration. Part of me feels like this could have something to do with the way you’re dressed.
I also sense that this encounter will happen in passing—a brief, fleeting moment. Even so, they might think something along the lines of, Wow, this person is... Perhaps you have a super eccentric style, or maybe it’s just something about your personality that makes you stand out in an unmistakable way.
It feels like this will catch their attention. Their immediate thoughts might be something like, Huh, this person is different, or even, Oh, I really like them. Those are the kinds of impressions I’m picking up here.
What They Think About You
Cards: The Acolyte, The Sentinel Rev, The Catalyst, Amanita - Conduit, Pau D’Arco - Metamorphosis
Your person may think of you as someone with feminine qualities—exuding a nurturing, gentle energy. They might also see you as a bit whimsical, especially in terms of your appearance. That said, I feel like they could struggle to fully interpret or "read" you. There’s a certain complexity to you that they might find intriguing or even a little puzzling. For example, you might come across as someone who is wise and mature, yet youthful in appearance. You could also give off the impression of being a student—someone who is curious about others, always learning, and dedicated to personal growth.
There’s definitely a sense of playfulness they might pick up on, too. The imagery that comes to mind is something like a mystical or enchanted vibe—mushrooms, fairies, gnomes, that sort of whimsical, otherworldly energy.
They might also notice that you seem to be someone who’s always changing. For instance, maybe your hair is dyed one color, but your roots are showing in a different shade, signaling transformation and evolution. It could also be something they pick up on just by overhearing you talk about yourself—how you actively seek change and growth rather than waiting for life to happen to you.
Your person might think you’re someone unafraid of the unknown. They could see you as someone who thrives on challenges, always seeking the next thing to conquer or explore. There’s also a sense that they might perceive you as confident and self-assured. Depending on the context, this could even come across as arrogance or self-centeredness, but it seems more tied to how much power or presence you have—and your awareness of it.
They might also view you as someone artistic or deeply connected to nature. Mystical energy keeps coming through strongly, and I think that’s a key part of how they’ll perceive you the first time they see you.
If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read this post! 💚
✨Curious about how you make them feel? ✨ What whispers might they share about you with others? 🤫💕 How will that first glance shape your future connection? 👀💞 Dive deeper with the extended access tier on Patreon for the full, in-depth reading 🔮✨—or read "How You Make Them Feel" as a free member! 💌🌟
Pile 2
First Impressions
Cards: Eight of Wands, The Stars, The Devil, The Painter, The Gambler
This is so amusing. I feel like your person’s first impression when they see you is, are you the thing that will save them or the thing that will ruin them completely?
I think you come in very quickly, leaving your person all wide awake and alert. You’re this beacon of light and hope for them, but at the same time, there’s something so mysterious and forbidden about you. Pursuing you, or even the idea of having you, feels thrilling, but it also carries an edge of danger. That’s the vibe I’m getting here from the cards.
It’s like you have the power to show them a whole new world, and that world could be incredible, or it could be devastating. Either way, they seem willing to take the risk and dive in. Honestly, I don’t sense any hesitation from them—none at all. They’re completely enthralled by you, and that’s their first impression.
It’s like… wow.
I think they find you incredibly beautiful. In fact, I’d say they’re very physically attracted to you, and that plays a significant part in it. For some reason, I’m also getting that you might come from different cultures, which could add to the intrigue.
But more than anything, there’s just this overwhelming thrill. You’re so addictive and so enticing—it’s like, oh my gosh. That’s all I can say: oh my gosh. Pile 2, what the heck? Your person is going to be all in for you from the start. That’s their first impression.
Their Immediate Thoughts
Cards: Ace of Cups, Six of Wands, The World
I think doing this pile is definitely going to be a highlight of my day. I’m getting that your person’s immediate thoughts are something like, they just want to eat you up. That’s the phrase I keep hearing, and it feels like your person has such a bold and playful personality—it really comes through in this reading. They see you as someone who probably has a ton of romantic attention. It’s like you’re this irresistible catch, and people are all over you. That’s what keeps coming through: you’ve got so many people chasing after you, and honestly, I can’t see it any other way.
So yeah, their immediate thought is that you’re an absolute catch. You’ve got so much going for you—you’re stunning, beautiful, and it’s something I keep circling back to throughout this reading.
Your person also seems to think you’d be an amazing lover, and they want to be your lover.
What They Think About You
Cards: The merchant, The Pilgrim, The Alchemist, Rue - Protection, Ginkgo - Breakthrough
You seem to have a very magnetic aura, and because of that, you don’t let people in very easily. You’re discerning about who you allow into your energy field. Your energy feels heavily protected, and that’s something people notice about you right away. They might sense—or assume—that you’ve got a deeper layer to you, and I think that’s part of what they initially find so alluring. There’s something about you that feels guarded but also captivating.
I think they see you as someone who’s very confident and aware of your worth. You’re not the type to settle for less than you deserve, and that confidence is magnetic in itself.
At the same time, they might think you’re a bit lost or lacking direction in where you’re headed. There’s this sense that they could see you as someone who might be a little self-destructive at times—or at least that’s a perception they could have. It’s almost like they imagine you as someone who builds yourself up but then occasionally tears it all down.
That dynamic—of being both powerful and a little risky—is part of what they find so intriguing. They sense there’s some level of risk in being with you or around you, and that’s a big part of the pull they feel toward you.
If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read this post! 💚
✨Curious about how you make them feel? ✨ What whispers might they share about you with others? 🤫💕 How will that first glance shape your future connection? 👀💞 Dive deeper with the extended access tier on Patreon for the full, in-depth reading 🔮✨—or read "How You Make Them Feel" as a free member! 💌🌟
PILE 3
First Impressions
Cards: Knight of Wands, The Star, Ace of Pentacles, The Witch, The Diviner
Your person sees you as someone who is very energetic, optimistic, and motivated, with a go-getter attitude toward the things you set your mind to. Their first impression might be that you’re someone who comes up with a lot of great ideas and has the potential for successful outcomes—though what “success” means might vary. Rather than defining it specifically, let’s just say they see you as someone likely to achieve positive results.
They also view you as someone very hopeful, someone who tries to see the best in situations without ignoring potential risks. You seem to strike a balance, focusing on the positives while still acknowledging the negatives. Depending on the context, you might come across as slightly impulsive, but overall, they perceive you as charismatic and confident.
There’s a mystical quality about you, too. They might feel like you have all the answers or that you’ve got the path ahead of you figured out, which leaves them a little mystified. At the same time, you might seem like you’re in your own world, unconcerned with what others are doing and entirely focused on your own goals—what you need to do to get from point A to point B.
They might also pick up on an earthy, natural vibe from you. There’s a sense that you could have an interest in nature, architecture, or even herbalism. These impressions might come across subtly, but they add to the idea that you’re someone who knows a lot about those kinds of things, or at least gives off that impression.
Their Immediate Thoughts
Cards: Ten of Swords, Six of Swords, Page of Swords
This won't resonate with everyone, but I’m picking up on an image of someone wearing a shawl and a lot of bangles or bracelets on their wrists—depending on how they express themselves. Glasses might also come to mind, along with imagery of a greenhouse or a guest speaker at an event. Of course, this could be very specific and apply to just one person.
Your person might perceive you as someone currently in a "solo era." It feels like you’re focused on healing, recovery, or just regaining balance after a draining experience. This could suggest you’re not actively seeking social connections right now.
Alternatively, if you’re working on a project or an idea with long-term potential, they may see you as someone who prefers to handle things independently. This could lead them to think you’re not particularly looking to collaborate at the moment. They might also believe you’re already in a relationship, which would tie into their perception that you’re either unavailable for social connections or preoccupied with your personal work.
Another thing they could sense about you is that you’re someone who has "breakthrough ideas," particularly in environments like school, work, or professional settings. They might see you as a person who consistently comes up with fresh, innovative concepts.
Overall, they view you as someone transitioning—leaving something behind and moving toward something healthier. It feels like "recovery mode" is a recurring theme. Whatever you’re moving on from, they think you’re navigating it with purpose.
What They Think About You
Cards: The Warrior, The Botanist, The Mascareri, Horsetail - Patience, Cacao - Initiation
Their thoughts align with an image of someone deeply connected to nature. They might imagine you working with plants, exploring nature, or pursuing hobbies like painting, pottery, or other creative, hands-on activities—perhaps even as a profession.
They might see you as someone who strives for perfection, but they could also feel that you hide your authentic self behind a mask of this perfectionism. At the same time, they view you as nurturing, patient, and willing to put in the necessary effort to see something bloom, even if it requires isolation.
Wherever they encounter you, it seems like they see you in your element—whether it’s creating, strategizing, or working on something meaningful. There’s a serene and calm energy about you, almost like a "green witch" archetype, embodying a sense of harmony and trust in the process of life.
They might feel that you have a strong connection to the Divine, as many of the cards reflect this theme. There’s a sense of familiarity they might feel with your soul, as if they intuitively recognize something deep about you.
It’s possible they see you as a teacher or mentor in some way—someone they watch and learn from, whether intentionally or by circumstance. This observant nature suggests a level of intrigue on their part. They might think: “I know this person’s soul,” and this thought could leave them feeling both curious and captivated by your essence.
If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read this post! 💚
✨Curious about how you make them feel? ✨ What whispers might they share about you with others? 🤫💕 How will that first glance shape your future connection? 👀💞 Dive deeper with the extended access tier on Patreon for the full, in-depth reading 🔮✨—or read "How You Make Them Feel" as a free member! 💌🌟
#pick a card#pick a pile#pick a card reading#pac reading#pick a picture#pick a pile reading#pac#cozycottagetarot#tarot reading#love tarot reading#future spouse tarot reading#future spouse reading#future spouse#cozycottagetarot readings#free tarot reading
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* ˚ ✦astro observations VII* ˚ ✦
Links to other astrovations: Astrology observations l, Astrology Observations ll, Astrology observations lll, Astrology observations IV, Astro Observations V Astrology observations VI
✩ Aquarius and pisces moon's can get annoyed with others for no reason, they might even beat themselves up over it. I’ve noticed with these individuals (unless strong 4H placements are involved or cancer) that they tend to not like people who are constantly in their vicinity 24/7, especially friends or lovers, these people rlly enjoy their personal space and alone time so they recharge their social battery as well as their tolerance for others.
✩ Aqua and Pisces moons may also feel that they can’t be their real selves around others, this authentic version of them may only truly be revealed to family members or a very close friend or lover. This could also add to the need to be alone as they could feel no one will ever understand them, their mind, mannerisms and behaviour. It’s like they want someone to pick apart their brain and understand who they are at their core but at the same time they’re afraid of letting others into their internal world.
✩ North Node in the 7th house seems like a difficult placement for the NN to be in. NN in the 1st house would symbolise finding your direction in life independently, therefore being encouraged to rely on oneself. North Node in the 7th house is quite the opposite, in the worst cases, I've seen it manifest in individuals who feel like they're incomplete without a romantic life partner and never properly heal, jumping from one person to the next in order to not be alone. Positively, this placement can indicate being encouraged to work with other people and to develop deep connections to others as with SN in the 1st, you may be more inclined to do things your way. NN in the 7th pushes you in the direction of compromise and balance within relationships.
✩ Chiron and Neptune in the 3rd house can indicate troubles with speaking (speech impediment, afraid of speaking in front of a group of people etc).
✩ Chiron and Neptune in the 3rd can also show early childhood bullying or being purposefully left out/made fun of by other kids your age. I've seen quite a few people with this placement deal with this, and years later they develop social anxiety and in worst cases agoraphobia :(
✩ Going back to the first point of Chiron/Neptune- they may have felt stupid or "slower" than other kids their age when it came to school further adding to the sense of unease and anxiety when it comes to school or dealing with their peers.
✩P.S I love you Chiron/Neptune in 3H individuals ❤️, yall are so strong and you are smarter than you realise 🙏
✩Venus/Sun/Moon/Mars in the 5th house start getting into/doing more creative hobbies. Idc if it's music, writing, poems, acting, knitting, painting, dancing, fashion hell even sculpting and becoming a DJ, JUST DO ITTT. Trust you are blessed with a mind that inclines to the creative side, use this please esp if the moon is in the 5th house it will heal your inner child. Mars here could show you feeling energised from creative pursuits and hobbies, a creative career could be well-suited. Even if you don't pursue a creative career, or (from what some of these people have told me 😭) don't consider yourself creative, do anything where you can add your own twist and opinion to it. Even if you don't think so or see it yourself, others will definitely be able to see the emotion/innovation/vision in whatever you create.
✩Having a lot of placements in the lower hemisphere of the chart especially the 4th house can indicate having an introverted personality.
✩ Furthermore, this can also indicate an individual who has a lot of layers, and it takes a while to get them out of their shell. This or they choose who they want to see the real them, no matter the years you've known them or the closeness.
✩Martian ruled 12H (Scorpio/Aries) or Mars in the 12H can indicate having wild ass dreams. Might involve a lot of fighting, and chasing, honestly it's giving war-zone. Your dreams could be very, very vivid too.
✩ Martian-ruled 12H or Mars in the 12H can also indicate repressing your anger a lot. This could stem from childhood trauma and with Taurus/Sag in the first (Whole signs), you could've felt bad expressing your anger, being taught it's not a good thing to show outward. With Taurus in the 1st this could show developing a put-together and calm demeanor since a young age and not wanting to break that peace wall you have built up. With Sag in the 1st this could show wanting to or being taught to come across as happy all the time or only being positive. Sometimes I've even noticed these individuals would rather come across as wild, carefree and happy than ever admit or show their more...plotting side 😈 (scorpio12H)..ig you could say LMAO.
✩Saturn in the 6H could show an individual needing a routine to keep them mentally in check and sane. Without one, they may feel like their whole life is crumbling right in front of them.
✩9H/3H placements can get on with anyoneee I swear. Even if they don't think so or if they are more introverted in nature, others just feel they give off this carefree, relaxed vibe making it easier for conversation and getting to know them. (Unless there's like Pluto on the Ascendant lol or sumn, this placement by itself tho does give off carefree knowledgeable energy).
✩Venus conj Saturn can show your boundaries constantly being tested and the universe sending you the same people in a different font, testing your ability to blindly love others until you get it straight lolll.
✩Saturn conj Venus can also show; dating/attracting older people, those who fuck with you romantically get screwed over eventually #karma, and or being serious about love like only wanting/pursuing relationships that are long-term.
✩Saturn conj Venus can also indicate meeting your "true love" later on in life, and by later I mean whatever point in time it is societally deemed 'oh that's very late to get married' blah blah.
✩These individuals could also just have good standards for what they want from their partner/future spouse (love that for you guys)
✩Back to NN in the 1st, stop serving other people and be of service to yourself!! It's okay to be selfish sometimes.
✩Uranus in the 1H, Aqua asc, yall weird 🤓. You already know that but I just felt the need to reiterate it, love all your little quirks and hyperfixations tho ❤️
✩Mars in the 11H be up to some crazy stuff in the bedroom (notice the Aquarian themes here)
✩Saturn overlaying the 4th house in synastry, 4th house person may feel like the Saturn individual is their 4lifer and can see them staying in their life long-term.
✩Not an observation just a personal opinion, I love people's charts where their planets sprinkle EVERYWHERE in the chart, it's so cool IMO and these people tend to be very balanced and have knowledge on all areas of life. I also don't know why but these charts are rare for me to find. Individuals who have planets in nine different houses is crazy I wanna see your chart.
PS- The astrovations are so back 🙏
ღAll my notes are personal observations and thoughts. I am not a professional astrologer and like to have a sense of whimsy in my life by looking at peoples charts, thankyou.
#astro community#astrology placements#astrovations#astrology notes#astrology#astrology community#astro observation#astro observations#astrology observations#astrology north node#astrology south node#Uranus in the 1st house#Aquarius rising#mars in 12th house#taurus rising#sagittarius rising#Saturn conjunct Venus#9th house#3rd house#Chiron in 3rd house#Neptune in 3rd house#Aquarius moon#Pisces moon
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Scars [J.T.]
Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
Summary: Jason lets you trace over his y scar
Warnings: Swearing, fluff, scars, mentions of death, bruises, cuts, general minor injuries, hurt/comfort
Words: 1,765
A/n: I just wanted something a little soft for once. If you wanna be tagged in my fics, you can click the link below, send me an ask/comment, or follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!
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Jason carries the weight of every horrible, traumatic, and agonizing event that’s ever happened to him across his body, etched in pale and raised lines across him like a used roadmap. He wears them as cruel reminders that this life is unfair and unjust, even when he tries his hardest to make it so. There are some he pays no mind to, and doesn’t even really notice most days because they are there. That’s that. But, there are others…there are others he looks at as a punishment for everything he’s ever done and everything he never was and could never be. They’re reminders, laughing back at him every day, a sinister echo of his mistakes.
Most days, he tries to pay them no mind, either.
You’re sitting on your knees right beside Jason, his side pressed against the bare skin of your calf. Your eyes are trained on his exposed abdomen, showcasing the scars and cuts and bruises he’s collected over the last few years.
It wasn’t that seeing his body covered in new and old injuries was jarring. That was mostly fine. After the first few weeks of being friends, it stopped being jarring because that's just how it is with Jason. He gets hurt sometimes. It comes with the job and you accept that part of him. The bruises and cuts were very rarely ever jarring. The other scars were never really jarring because of course he has them. That always made sense to you. It's the autopsy scar that is jarring.
With the others, he'd told you it comes with the job and then he'd watch your face contort into a scrunch of worry and paranoia over his well-being, something he doesn't think he deserves most days. When the comment didn't ease your worry, he'd kiss you and give his signature cocky grin, a silent promise that he's fine and the conversation would end. The autopsy scar conversation is never so simple.
You knew he died because he told you not long before you made things official. You knew the story about the Joker and his mom. He told you of the horrid night and bits of pieces of the after. But this is your first time seeing the physical damage of the night that still wakes him up in the middle of the night. Your chest aches for him and it's jarring because he did die and he has to carry that kind of weight forever, something you'll swear until the day you die he doesn't deserve.
With delicate fingers, you trace over the long line of the autopsy scar, Jason’s eyes glancing from your hand to your face. His stomach tenses with the movement and you can’t tell if it’s because your hands are cold, it tickles, or he’s uncomfortable. If you know Jason, you’re kind of figuring it’s the third option. So, you glance back to him, chewing the inside of your cheek.
“This okay?” You ask softly.
“It’s fine.” Jason answers, his thumb lightly brushing over your thigh furthest away from him. “Bother you?”
Jason has been cautious not to show you because he knows how he feels about it. He knows that you worry. Seeing some sort of proof of death seems like it might send you spiraling into some sort of tornado of worry until you spin too far away from him. He's been cautious because he adores you and he doesn't want to lose you and he doesn't want it scare you.
You look back to the scar, tracing over it again. “No.” You answer quietly. It hurts your chest because it happened to him. It happened to him and nothing in this world could ever justify the torture and pain he's been through. It doesn't bother you because it is a part of him and you adore him with every beat your heart drums. “Bothers you though.”
Jason’s brows pull together. “How’d you figure?” There’s the slightest bit of a bite in his words like a scared puppy, a default reaction to being seen.
“Why wouldn’t it?” The question leaves your lips freely with unfiltered candor.
Seeing it for the first time, yeah it bothered him. It bothered him because what was the point? It wasn’t some mystery how he died. Maybe it was just legal reasons bullshit that Jason doesn’t care about. Though, he does fully understand that maybe if he hadn’t come back, he wouldn’t care. Or if it had healed, he wouldn’t care. So, that’s something he can’t really blame Bruce for. Instead, it’s that it’s there. Looking back at him in the mirror. Staring up at him when he looks down. It’s always there. It’s as if he was cut open and the weight of death and punishment and regret scattered over his organs and bones, making sure he understands the weight of his own consequences. He just can’t quite shake it and the scar is the reminder.
"I guess." Jason lets out this shaky breath as his stomach tenses below your fingertips.
"It's okay if it bothers you, Jay." You assure him. "I'd bother me if I were you but..." You pause for just a second, pressing an open palm over some of the raised edges of the scar as your eyes are locked on his. "I hope it doesn't bother you too much because you got to live and I don't care what the other bats thought about it at first because I'm glad you got to come back. And you deserve to let the weight off your shoulders for once." Your eyes go back to the scar and trace up the line from the center of his stomach up to the right side of his chest.
Jason's thumb is rubbing lightly against your skin and he wonders why you make it seem so simple. No part of him thinks you believe it's simple but there's something in the way that you say it that almost gives Jason some sort of faith in the idea of it. That maybe there is a day where it won't feel like he's carrying the weight of the world. Maybe there is a day someday where he won't feel the aching and longing of his bones. You offer him tenderness and kindness when the majority of his life has been nothing but skinned knees and broken hearts.
That feels terrifying, too but...maybe he's tired of running away from things because they're good for him. And good to him.
Seeing the autopsy scar for the first time bothered him. Seeing it yesterday bothered him. But, at this exact point in time with your fingers running along the tattered edges, it doesn’t bother him so much.
“Thank you.” Jason holds his words steady with a sort of caution at the edges. "It's not bothering me now." His voice is quiet as his eyes glance to you and then back to your fingers on his skin.
He is entirely exposed to you now. There’s no going back even if that is absolutely terrifying. Jason keeps himself guarded to protect himself and protect everyone else around him. But, you make letting the guard down a little bit easier. You’re tender and delicate with him, two things no one ever is. At no point have you ever thought less of him for the things he’s done and things he’s seen, or the things that rip his body to shreds. You take him as he is and offer him understanding and kindness, two things Jason has been desperate to get from anyone. And he is so thankful for you.
“Good.” Your voice is quiet before your stare goes back to the scar. “I hope it never bothers you again.”
Jason sits up, closing some of the distance between you while you rest your hands in your lap. His eyes run over your face slowly while the corner of his mouth is pinched barely upwards. He looks content. He looks comfortable. His heart is beating a mile a minute as it’s about to run through his ribs. There’s something fluttering against it, something that feels warm and welcoming in the beating of his heart. There’s something that makes his breathing unsteady without ever sucking the air from his lungs. There is something that feels comfortable and like a home he didn’t think he’d ever find.
Jason leans forward, resting his forehead against yours and your entire body relaxes in that instant. He pulls away, pressing a kiss to your nose and then to your cheek before he rests his head in the crook of your neck. You turn your head and press a kiss to his temple before your hands come to his cheeks to pick his head up.
His eyes lock on your eyes and you adore him. You adore him for all that he is today. The scars never really bothered you because they hold him together. All of them have a story that has led Jason Todd to who he is today. They are proof that he is alive. They are proof that even when he was hurt, even when he was murdered, he is alive. The air can be pulled into his lungs and oxygen will circulate through his cells again. He is alive. The autopsy scar is just further proof to you because he shouldn’t have been brought back but he was. And that was for a reason. That scar is just another piece of proof he is meant to be here. It is another mark of how he got here today and you, for one, are eternally thankful that he is here today.
Your thumbs are running over his cheeks and Jason swears he has never felt so wanted by anyone. And he doesn’t feel so damn alone in the world anymore. He feels important and he only hopes he makes you feel the same way. He can only hope you understand how much you mean to him and that he is just as important to you.
Your lips come to his and he melts into your touch as he kisses you back. His hand comes up to the back of your head to pull you in closer. And he thinks he might do everything in his power to have more moments like these with you. You can trace his scars and he can tell you about them and you can exist in the bubble where it is only the two of you. You can trace his scars and he can run his fingers along your thigh and you both can feel wanted and important. And loved.
Tag List: @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss // @ghostkingblake // @dgraysonss // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @vivian-555 // @kebonita // @deyja-the-duck // @jasontoddslover // @captainmarvels-blog // @totallynotkaibiased // @scarlovesyou // @whydoyoucare866 // @littlemeowmeow1000 // @septixtrash // @kplatzman // @killxz // @achromaticerebus // @lovefks // @kolpvii
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#red hood x reader#red hood x you#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fanfiction#dc fanfic#dc fanfiction
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Everything
Summary: You're used to staying still whenever Astarion feeds on you. This time, he wants you to feel everything.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Blood kink. Inappropriate use of tadpoles. Dry humping if you squint. Handjob. Innuendo. PiV. Creampie. Precum.
Word count: 3.2k
AUTHOR'S NOTE: At the time of posting this fic (Feb 11th), I was unaware of a fic by @bhaalism that had been posted on Feb 6th and that some similarities are present, even if totally unbeknownst to me. It was not consciously done, but I can understand how some people might see it differently. I've discussed the matters privately with Kita and, as such, here's the link to their fic so you can check them out and appreciate their work!
I also want to emphasise that no negative behaviour should come of this (in either direction) as we've both discussed matters privately, and no one else has to get involved!
You've done this so many times before that it feels as natural as second nature.
It feels right.
If the multiple scrolls of Lesser Restoration are anything to go by, this is meant to be a prolonged feeding session.
You don't mind.
And by the looks of it, neither does Astarion as he pulls you by the waist to sit more comfortably on his lap.
He has this ritual of sorts with you. It would be so easy to tilt your head to the side, exposing your neck to his bite and let him feed comfortably, but he takes his time.
And you know it's only a matter of time before you start feeling it.
“You can just feed, you know?” you purr, pressing your forehead against his.
As expected, he huffs in feigned annoyance.
“Gods, are you about to lecture me with the ‘don't play with your food’ nonsense, darling?” he bites out dramatically, but you do know he enjoys a good tease.
“Maybe I should,” you say, swirling the soft curls at the nape of his neck around your finger. “You need to feed, after all.”
A devious smile curves his lips and you pull back to slip from his lap.
But he immediately halts you halfway with a firm grip on your waist, fingertips digging into your skin and holding you in place.
Oh?
This is new.
And that's when you first feel it twitch for the first time.
It's no surprise that Astarion gets easily hard with you and for you. In fact, it doesn't take much effort at all. It's as if his body is set to react to yours in unfathomable ways.
But when you press down softly against him, and the motion earns a groan from him and yet another twitch from his cock, you know this is different.
Usually, he feeds on you as you lay flat on your bed, making use of the comfort a mattress can provide as he drinks your blood.
It is easy and quick and enough.
But tonight, it seems that Astarion has other plans and his lustful gaze paired with his hardening cock are proof enough.
He is evidently hungry for more than just your blood.
“As much as I adore you under me,” he begins, gaze dropping to your shirt, “I think I'd rather have you on top of me this time.”
Your hands come to grip his shoulders for balance, and your eyes widen slightly. “Why?”
A gentle tug at the laces of your nightdress nearly breaks your concentration, but you somehow manage to keep your composure as his crimson eyes find yours.
“Why not? Why shouldn't this delicacy be shared?” he asked with another tug and you felt the fabric at your chest begin to loosen. “You should enjoy it, too, darling. And I want you to feel everything.”
He emphasises his words with a final pull that brings your nightdress fully apart, unravelling your breasts to his hungry gaze. They heave in unison with your quickened breathing and it's enough to transfix him.
You can't necessarily feel it, but you are certain his cock just got harder just as blood rushes downwards, swelling your clit.
The shift in temperature causes your nipples to slowly harden and that is what makes him groan.
“Enjoying the view?”
He nods. “You can feel how much I do.”
You feigned ignorance. “I don't think I can.”
The grip on your waist tightens and he pulls you against his cock, the flimsy fabric of your undergarments allowing your clit to drag along his covered length.
Hard and needy.
“You were saying…?”
Smug and cheeky and infuriating.
Three adjectives that fall short to fully grasp how he is with you when it comes to intimacy, but it's a good place to start.
He's good and he knows it and he wants you to validate him every step of the way.
“Connect your tadpole with mine,” he says unexpectedly.
“What? Why?”
“You know why.”
You do and it baffles you that he even suggested it in the first place. Connecting tadpoles intimately is reserved for when privacy is a guarantee. And being inside one of the many rooms at the Elfsong Tavern offers everything but privacy.
“We're at a tavern, Astarion…”
He quirks an eyebrow, bucking his hips upwards ever so slightly. “Yes, I'm aware. Your point being…?”
“We'll be heard.”
“Do you not intend on being loud?”
Your mouth falls agape at the nerve. Silence is never an option with him. He takes pride in how he makes you feel, knowing fully well he's ruined you for anyone else.
“Would you have it any other way?”
His cock twitches in response, but it's the way his half-hooded eyes roam deliciously slow across your face that makes you clench.
“And miss the opportunity to inconvenience our next-door neighbours?” he tuts with a smirk that bares his fangs. “I don't think so.”
In the midst of all the lust-heavy words and slow hip rolls, you manage out a chuckle.
“You're vicious. Shadowheart and Lae'zel will definitely not appreciate the midnight ruckus.”
He bucks his hips so that your face gets close enough for your lips to brush.
“And what exactly are they going to do, hmm?” he says with a smirk. “Kill me?”
Before you can answer, he leans in and captures your bottom lip in between his teeth. The suddenness of it all, makes you flinch back and when a fang grazes the frail skin, it draws blood.
It stings enough for you to curse, and you see his hungry gaze admiring the droplet that pools on your lip.
“They could do much worse to you,” you tease with a giggle, proving your point by denying him the taste of your blood when he leans in again.
He lets out a low rumble of disapproval as he slumps against the headboard. “If by ‘worse’ you mean ‘whispering healing prays and hurling nonsensical curse words’, then I agree. A torment,” he feigned pain dramatically.
There is something oddly satisfying about teasing Astarion to the brink of frustration.
You almost feel inclined to satisfy his bloodlust, but decide against it, wiping the droplet with a swipe of your tongue.
That immediately earns a deep frown from him and an obnoxious click of his tongue. “Honestly, what a waste.”
“Then be nice,” you say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.
Astarion's hips buck and you're sure your undergarments are soaked enough for the wetness to seep through the fabric of his trousers. If he feels it, he doesn't say.
When you pull away, there's a faint stain of blood on his lower lip, which he pulls in between his teeth to suckle on it gently.
The sight is enough to have you roll your hips twice.
Suddenly, he looks uncharacteristically serious. “Connect your tadpole with mine.”
There is urgency in his voice and you can only assume he is past warming up and ready to move on to the next step.
And you're not one to deny the offer of a good time if there is a promise that him feeding on you can be pleasurable to you as well.
You allow your mind to stir the dorment tadpole, urging it to find his.
It is rather simple and you've done it before with him during your sexual endeavours. But this is different. It already feels different. It's as if the worm knows this connection bears other purposes.
Astarion lets out a groan when his body meets yours through his mind.
The tug inside your head is enough to draw a breathy gasp as you are made aware of his intentions.
He wants your hand.
Your… hand?
Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, but not for long enough as his hand pulls yours from his shoulder.
And what he does next makes you clench so hard, you feel a gush of wetness drip from you.
“I want you to feel it – everything – as I feast on your blood,” he purrs, placing your hand around his throat.
Oh.
The tadpole squirms in anticipation as you feel his cock throbbing in your mind and against your clothed clit.
His skin is cool to the touch but it quickly heats up under your palm and, with his other hand, he undoes the laces of his trousers with unmatched dexterity.
You gasp as his thoughts bleed into you, allowing you to know what he expects next.
This time, he doesn't need to utter aloud his intentions.
You can hear him inside your head and you find yourself utterly unable to look away from his piercing eyes.
Take it out and grip it, darling.
Your hips buck, driven by pure instinct as you comply with his request. A shaky hand reaching down and tugging at the fabric of his own undergarments, and in one swift motion, you free his cock.
As expected, he immediately welcomes your grip with a thrust, and you feel just how hard and wet he already is.
His cock is still cool to the touch, but you know that is about to change soon enough.
With a gentle squeeze, his eyes flutter shut, head tilting back slightly as he adjusts to your touch.
It doesn't take long for a thick bead of precum to roll down his length before reaching your knuckles.
Inside your head, your tadpole shudders and you're sure it's because he wants to feel how swollen your clit is for him.
It pulsates rhythmically and Astarion growls with a smirk.
He adores feeling your clit.
Just as you adore feeling how stiff his cock can get in your hand and in your mind.
“You're already quite hard already,” you say, doing a laughable poor job at keeping your voice steady.
“I can get harder,” he says and you feel his voice rumbling against your palm.
You clench in sheer reflex. Mostly because you know he can and will.
Instinctively, you let out a soft moan from the delicious friction.
And it's enough to have Astarion's ego soar high enough that it pulls the most devilishly alluring smirk from his lips.
After all, he never misses the chance to remind you that it is your blood that makes his cock thicker and warmer and harder.
Astarion finally opens his eyes again and brings his hand to your face, fingers tracing your jawline before he tips your head to the side, exposing your neck to him.
Hold on tight, darling.
He cranes his head and he plants a fleeting kiss below your ear, as he grazes his cool lips along the length of your neck. By now, he knows your pulse points by heart, so when he finds one, his fangs break skin and sink into your inviting flesh.
Out of reflex, you grip his cock tighter and he lets out a muffled groan.
No matter how many times you allow him to feed on you, the initial uncomfortable feeling is always there and it lingers until his lips wrap around the bleeding wounds.
And when he begins to suckle hungrily, downing mouthfuls of your blood, you nearly moan from the way you can feel it under your palm.
Your tadpole allows you to be aware of your blood rushing and coursing through his body at a steady pace and when it finally reaches his lower half, a faint pulse stirs his cock.
Immediately, you clench, frustrated that it's around nothing, but you quickly brush the disappointment aside as you finally understand why he wanted your hands around him.
He swallows your blood at a rhythm that matches the throb in his cock, and inside your head you can feel it beat in unison with the one in your clit.
It's your blood that brings him alive in more ways than one.
Warmth spreads across your palm and fingers and the veins that snake around his length begin to bulge as your blood fills them.
Tighter… tighter… tighter.
He repeats it like a prayer that he hopes you can answer.
He's so lost in you that his senses blur and he becomes one with you.
You try your best to comply, the back of your hand soaked with precum, as he hardens even more.
In between your legs, your clit swells up as if in response and you're so wet you're sure he'd be able to slide his cock inside with little to no effort.
How is it possible? How…
The connection allows him to hear your thoughts and he groans in response, rolling his hips at a clumsy and broken pace.
Astarion's concentration is hanging on by a thread. You can hear him curse in sheer frustration as he tries to hold on to some semblance of control.
But he gets too drunk in your blood and he is unable to keep his focus.
It doesn't help that your own arousal is spilling into his mind and mixing with his own.
A double-edged sword.
He wanted you to feel him as he feeds on you, and now he's stuck having to withstand double the arousal and the pleasure that your blood provides.
The first loud growl comes from him and you feel your grip around his cock loosen as he thickens.
Your walls flutter and he feels it, bringing one hand down to close around yours, ensuring you grip him firmly once again.
You keep clenching like that and I…
His next words aren' heard in your head and you feel your body begin the inevitable battle between overwhelming pleasure and the numbness that always comes whenever he feeds.
A faint growl slips past your lips and it quickly morphs into a strangled cry that echoes around the room.
You want to call out his name and warn him… warn him that your body can't take much more bloodloss and arousal.
But the tug inside your mind lets you know that he knows.
After all, your body is his now.
Just as his is yours.
He fucks your hand slowly with his atop yours, keeping the pace. The lump in his throat bobs rhythmically with each gulp.
Astarion… it's too much…
It takes him a couple of more seconds, two more mouthfuls and at least five more thrusts of his cock for him to finally unlatch from your neck with a guttural growl.
He drags his warm tongue across the puncture wounds, not wasting the rivulets of blood that dribble down.
The wet sound is nearly intoxicating and you nearly jump in his lap as his other hand finds your breast, fingers tugging at your hardened nipple.
Astarion is close and, by extension, so are you.
Your blood rushes throughout his entire body and you now understand how good it feels. How good you feel inside him. He's warm and flushed from feeding on you and his head tilts back against the headboard as loses himself in you.
Somehow, he's able to keep a steady pace as he fucks your hand, the most beautiful moans spilling from his mouth as he does so.
You caress his neck lovingly as he tugs on your nipple.
“Darling…”
It's a plea.
Under different circumstances, you'd have to ask him what he wanted. But you're inside his head and you know why he's begging you.
He doesn't want his cum to go to waste.
He doesn't think the tightness and warmth and wetness your hand and fingers can provide.
I need to be inside you.
The alarm in his voice stuns you momentarily and your eyes widen as a very urgent tug
He's about to come.
You let go of his cock and his hands are suddenly in between your legs.
Your body reacts to this instantly and your walls tighten in anticipation, eager to squeeze something else.
Stop. Clenching.
A loud moan is all you give him in return as your vision blurs from how his cock pulses and throbs and leaks precum.
Another clench.
“Gods above… I can't take it anymore.”
And neither can you.
You hear the sound of fabric being torn filling your ears and his hands claw at your waist to position himself at your entrance.
A languid snap of his hips and he sinks into you, stretching you in a way that has you slumping against his chest, hardened nipples grazing his skin as he bottoms out.
He's so thick from your blood that you're sure you'll be sore from it, but none of that matters now.
All that matters is that you're stuffed to the brim, his balls pressing against you and the best part is that you can feel how he feels.
You're not sure whose climax hits first as you're so entwined with him.
You reckon it's his as you feel his balls tighten and cum coarse through his length, spilling into you with hurried thrusts.
It feels too good to be true.
You can feel just how tight you are around him and you can feel each gush of cum leaving his bodu
He whines. “I… it feels – Gods…”
Astarion is a babbling mess under you and his words soon lose meaning as they become incomprehensible.
The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with the creamy sounds of you milking his cock is enough to send you into overdrive.
The uncontrollable contractions hit you like a tidal wave and both you and Astarion groan in unison as you both get thrust into each other's climaxes.
Your head is buried in the crook of his neck and you vaguely think in the haze of your peak that you should use a scroll of Lesser Restoration. You're still bleeding from the wounds and the fear that you might faint looms on the horizon.
But pleasure overcomes numbness and you welcome it with no resistance.
Still, as Astarion gets warmer and warmer, you begin to fade to the coldness.
Your tadpole is writhing with his and you feel him push you from him so that he can latch his lips against your bleeding wounds, careful to keep his fangs to himself.
He suckles gently as you descend from your shared climax and it's as if the action could lull him into a trance.
Blindly, you try to feel for a scroll that is somewhere scattered across the bed.
He's still buried deep inside you when the connection is severed, showing no signs of slipping out.
You find what you're looking for and utter the right words to activate the scroll, battling against your laboured breaths.
Vigour blooms inside you almost instantly and you feel warmth spread throughout your body with each pump of your heart.
The wounds close and he has no choice but to unlatch one final time, lips dripping with blood.
“I think I understand now… why you wanted to try this…” you breathe out, collapsing against him again.
The sudden motion causes a few droplets of cum to drip from you.
His hand is splattered across your back, fingers caressing your flushed skin. “Why are you so surprised? You should know by now that I always deliver what I promise.”
You think it's impossible to love him even more, but the way he holds you surely tests your resolve.
“This was really good… really, really good,” you say.
“Keep on praising me like that, and we'll have to go for a second round.”
Two loud bangs on the wall are heard accompanied by a “Tsk'va!” and you chuckle.
“Well, do you think our neighbours enjoyed the show, darling?”
You doubt it, but this isn't about anyone but you and him.
Masterlist
#astarion#astarion bg3#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#astarion smut#astarion x you#astarion x female tav#astarion x female reader#astarion x f!tav#astarion x f!reader#astarion x oc
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Submas Sketchdump Vol. 4 July 2022 Part 2!!
I knew that particular month beat my all time record for productivity multifold but I had forgotten SO MANY PIECES from the original collection!! I think I finally got them all?? More stuff under the cut!!
BREAKMAS!! WIP of the first piece I posted of them, here's the link to the final version! I tried coloring this first but the black & white had ultimately more impact so I went with that!
TRAINS!! I like this base color version too! Link to the final version!
The top sketch is a direct reference to Cluedo! A spinoff game, "Missingo", starring certain familiar characters trying to figure out what happened to Ingo/trying to prove their innocence in the case! Also WIP sketches for these two Breakmas comic pages!
As you may know I adore butlermas! For the classy and stylish look which appeals to me in general, and coincidentally I had played PLA & got hit by submas train only one week before butler Ingo's banner rolled out! The pure bliss of finally meeting both twins in a game I felt was incomparable!! This moment in the Curious Tea Party event was really entertaining to me! We got to see submas get serious and stand up against this selfish collector thief! Two towering train twinks with commanding voices looming over the unfortunate guy was enough to make him change his mind ahah! They truly are the protectors
1-hour submas challenge prompt "Descend"! This is the actual one hour result before I continued rendering this!
Mmmmm not my first attempt at drawing them hug and definitely not my best OR last. I want to make that moment something very special when I finally go all out on it!!
Comic cover vibing~
The scrapped last page for this silly comic! Sorry the dialogue is all over the place on the first piece, might be hard to read! I wasn't happy with how I presented Elesa, I wasn't familiar enough with her character back then so I thought of her carrying a toy taser to threat her friend even as a joke was too much and I couldn't come up with anything else for it. This held me back from posting the other three pages for another 5 months! In the last panel
I prefer to not mess up the twins too much but my brain is still very curious and conjures some peculiar stuff like this sometimes.. I think I may have broken his arms there looking at the anatomy, ooops! I hope you don't mind the photo quality or the two weird guys in the corner, they escaped containment!
Idea of warden Ingo, being projected to modern era by his Alakazam, walking through crowd on a train platform & Emmet standing inside a passing train. Their eyes meet for just a few seconds...
Pokemas Ingo practise!
Another WIP of a piece I posted! I started this piece like this but then later I decided to flip the whole thing.
YET another WIP of something I already posted! No idea why I went and mixed up his suits but I like this sketch! They rarely end up looking this clean haha
Sketch version of the self-defense practise piece! I love getting creative with action stuff! I barely ever think of how difficult they are to draw, I just get so excited and fixated on visualising the scenes in my mind I just keep at it, pull out refs and pose in front of mirrors until it looks good to me! I want to draw more action scenes but besides being challenging to draw my brain comes up with more silly and cute ideas than cool ones unfortunately ahah
One more WIP, here's the link to the final results!! I really like how genuine their expressions look here even if the faces are a little off. I recall spending a long time figuring out this perspective. I thought it would be fun to you to see how all these pieces started and... looking at the sketch above and the stuff before that, you can compare some range of my style!
RANDOM SUBMAS MISSILES GO
OHHH looks like some nasty passengers got the best of them!! If I recall correctly there was no fight because they managed to paralyse the two before they could act. Fully awake yet completely helpless... how convenient unfortunate. Thank you so much for checking these out!! Not every sketch is that exciting but I'm always happy to hear your thoughts on these!
Previous posts: Sketch dump Vol. 1: April-June 2022 Sketch dump Vol. 2: July 2022 Sketch dump Vol. 3: August 2022
#tw holding at knife point#submas#subway bosses#subway boss ingo#pokemon ingo#submas ingo#warden ingo#subway boss emmet#pokemon emmet#submas emmet#butlermas#submas butlers#team break#breakmas#team break submas#pokemon elesa#elesa#ingo#emmet#team plasma#galvantula#joltik#sketch dump#pokemas
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You believe in soulmates. Alhaitham does not. It’s not as though he loves you any less for his beliefs, but he certainly doesn’t entertain your baseless theories.
You’re determined to change his mind.
“What would you do if we never met?” You ask, staring up at him with your cheek pressed against his chest.
He glances down at you, sighing as he shakes his head. Here we go, he thinks silently. “I probably wouldn’t do anything, considering I wouldn’t know you existed.”
“You wouldn’t be sad?” You frown.
“How can I be sad about something that I don’t know exists?”
“Well, you could know of me,” you insist, “just because you don’t know me doesn’t mean you don’t know I exist.”
“In that case, I probably would not do anything,” he snorts. You don’t like that answer, glaring up at him as he adds, “I wouldn’t know what I’m missing if we never met.”
“You’re a real romantic, has anyone ever told you that?” You grumble. There’s a vibration of his chuckle through his chest, right under your cheek in a soft, rhythmic feeling that you’re so used to, you think it might be familiar from another life.
Over the course of the Akademiya’s years, there have been two prominent theories that have been debunked about soulmates:
1. The law of conservation of mass-energy states that matter and energy cannot be created or destroyed—but only transformed. When a person dies, their body decomposes, breaking down into atoms that return to the earth, air, and water. These atoms then get recycled by nature, eventually becoming part of other living organisms, thus reincarnating from their previous life forms. It is possible, then, that two individuals could fundamentally be linked to reincarnate together from the same set of atoms in every lifetime.
It was later debunked by a scholar named Lamiya. Atoms themselves don’t retain information about where they’ve been or what they’ve been part of. They are interchangeable at a fundamental level, which means there is no difference between an atom in a human and a rock.
2. The heart and brain generate electromagnetic fields that extend outward from the body, with the heart’s field reaching several feet. Studies suggest these fields may be sensed by others nearby, subtly shaping feelings of comfort, attraction, and connection. It is possible that certain individuals’ frequencies may naturally align, creating a sense of harmony between electromagnetic fields, thus indicating that two individuals are naturally connected and could be labeled soulmates.
This theory was later disproven by a scholar named Dharmakirti. While human bodies do generate electromagnetic fields, there is no evidence that these fields influence interpersonal attractions or emotional resonance. Fields produced by the heart and brain are exceptionally weak and rapidly diminish with distance, making it unlikely they could be sensed or create harmony between individuals in measurable ways.
They fascinate you enough that Alhaitham pulls strings to allow you access to the archived files, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by you how he scrunches his nose in distaste as he sifts through them himself.
Soulmates have no plausible evidence of existing, he argues.
Lots of things have no plausible evidence, yet they exist, you always argue back.
You like to think despite all the differences, you and Alhaitham are soulmates—that some form of you, outside of your physical bodies, exists for each other and each other alone.
You think it must be the case when your eyes seem to find his in a crowd without even trying. What are the odds that in a sea of people, they always happen to come across his by chance? And what other explanation would there be for the way he always seems to just know you’re staring at him while he sleeps every morning, waking up not too long after your eyes fall on his face in admiration? And how else would you rationalize the fact that you could tell his presence apart from anyone. You’re certain that if two bodies were standing behind you from a distance, your heart would know which one belonged to him.
Soulmates, you argue. That has to be the answer.
“I think we were always meant to meet,” you murmur quietly, tracing a finger along the pale skin of his chest. “Don’t you?”
“We’ve shared numerous classes together and have offices within within the same hall,” he states blandly, “I think the chances of not meeting would be rather improbable.”
“Or maybe,” you huff, “we were always meant to meet because we’re soulmates.”
“I think that theory has been sufficiently disproven—”
“You never know! We believe in the divine even if we’ve never seen them, haven’t we? Who’s to say Celestia aren’t fake—”
“The Archons have spoken of them multiple times, and The Gods, in fact, do exist for us to see, so I think we can trust—”
“Maybe Celestia decide soulmates,” you reason, raising a pointed brow at him, “how will you disprove that? There’s no evidence that they haven’t, and you can’t collect much evidence about them, so I think it’s safe to say that it’s possible.”
“But then it’s equally as safe to say it’s not possible by that logic, as well,” he says smugly.
“Fine,” you huff, glowering up at him through puffed cheeks, “I guess you’re just too stubborn to convince.”
“I’m not stubborn,” he argues (which he does quite stubbornly, you want to say), “I apply logic and reasoning to my theories. Which is why they are hardly disproven.”
“Do you at least think we’d be soulmates in another world if they did exist?” You ask hopefully.
He looks like he wants to argue about the likelihood of another world existing altogether—it irritates you enough that it pulls a frown on your face before you grumble a quiet forget it, shuffling out of his arms and turning away to face your back at him.
He chuckles, shaking his head. Something fond blooms in his chest, like a fresh padisarah in May.
“If,” he emphasizes as his arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you flush against his chest once more, “if in another world we existed where soulmates were real, then yes. I do think it would be you and I.”
“Really?” You ask quietly.
“Yes,” he whispers. Suddenly, he sounds rather sure about a theory he never even believed in the first place.
“I wonder what we’re doing in that other world,” you hum thoughtfully.
He sighs, bringing the blanket back up to cover both of your bodies and mumbles, “I would hope we’d be sleeping at a reasonable hour before a work day.”
—————
Stay tuned for them being soulmates after all in another world *wink wink* ;)
#—rivistyping!#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x you#alhaitham fluff#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin fluff#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact fluff#genshin fanfic#genshin imagines#genshin x y/n
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fuzzy pink handcuffs
ship: agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader
summary/request: you and rio poke the bear.
word count: 2k
notes: reader has a vagina, referred to with gender neutral pronouns
warnings: smut (18+), roleplaying, dom!agatha, switch!rio (but mainly sub here), sub!reader, also brat!reader and rio, manhandling, magic as bondage, spanking, fingering (R receiving), voyeurism (rio likes to watch :3), orgasm denial
masterlist | ao3 link
“No.”
“But, Agatha--”
“Absolutely not. And don’t even start giving me those sad, puppy eyes,” Agatha points a finger accusingly at you. You resist the urge to nip her finger, instead ignoring her order completely and giving her those aforementioned puppy eyes. “You’re such a spoiled brat, you know that?”
“Whose fault is that?” You grin knowingly.
Agatha whips around to face Rio, who’s watching this argument with great amusement plastered on her face. The other woman is nestled back into her favorite chair, enjoying the show as Agatha gets more and more flustered.
“This is all your fault.”
Rio raises her hands up, chuckling at her lover’s anger. “Hey, I’m not the one who was having Criminal Minds fantasies.”
“You’re the one who told them about it!” Agatha throws her hands up in defeat, flopping back on the couch and pouting.
She wasn’t wrong about that fact. After Agatha had successfully escaped the Westview Hex and reunited with you and Rio, Rio so kindly recalled the little roleplay that you missed. The thought of your lover as a gruff, brooding detective immediately had your mind racing with possibilities.
Unfortunately, Agatha was being rather resistant to all the ideas you had.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” Rio stood up from her seat, crossing the room to cup Agatha’s face. Agatha sneers at her, but doesn’t pull away. “Don’t you think it would be fun?”
You decide to join Rio’s new method of persuasion, getting up from your own seat and kneeling in front of Agatha. Rio sits beside Agatha to give you more room, while she watches as you rest your chin on her knee, looking up at her through your lashes.
“Just this once, then I’ll shut up about it forever!” You plead.
“Why do you even want this so bad?” Agatha questions, but you can tell by the way she’s analyzing your face that she’s letting her guard down. “Even for you, this begging is pretty pathetic.”
“I just think the idea sounds hot,” you mumble, pressing your lips against her leg softly. “Seeing you in a cute flannel, all rugged and tough looking for clues. Interrogating a very stubborn suspect who just won’t talk. Figuring out a way to make them talk.”
“You talk plenty,” Agatha scoffs, but her breath is unsteady.
“Not when I’m hiding information, Detective Harkness.”
“Might as well quit pretending you’re not into this, Agatha,” Rio kisses her cheek, earning a glare. She ignores it and trails kisses down Agatha’s jawline, enjoying the way her breath hitches. “If your head were clearer, you would’ve fucked me right there in that office. Wouldn’t you have?”
“No, I have a semblance of self-control, unlike you two.”
“Liar,” Rio and you say in unison.
Agatha scoffs, turning her face away from us both. The flush on her cheeks stands out on her pale skin, betraying her feigned indifference. “One of you is already on your knees for me. Think I’m still winning that fight.”
You pout up at her, deciding to risk it all by kissing up Agatha’s clothed thighs. Even with the barrier of fabric, the contact is enough to make Agatha spread her legs for you. Exactly the leverage you needed. Inching closer and closer to her center, her eyes finally daring to look at you. Rio’s hand comes to the back of your head, and you know that you’re both thinking the same thing.
Right as you plant a kiss over Agatha’s clothed cunt, Rio tugs your head back.
“Fuck. You.” Agatha grits her teeth, hand darting out to pull your head back against her, but you move swiftly out of her grasp. “You are both such brats.”
“We’re just ‘poking the bear,’ honey.”
“Consider the bear throroughly poked,” Agatha’s voice deepens, eyes dark as she considers her two troublemakers. “We’re going to do this my way, got it?”
“So, that’s a yes?” You climb up to kiss her, but she catches you with a hand on your throat, not choking but firm enough to push you back from her face.
“You don’t touch a decorated detective without permission, kid. Watch yourself.”
Eyes darting from Agatha’s steely glare to Rio’s excited grin, you swallow, telling yourself this is exactly what you asked for.
“Yes, Detective Harkness.”
---
The metal chair is cold against your bare thighs, your dress riding up as you squirm. Agatha’s office serves as your interrogation room - a folding table dug up from her storage in front of you, purple magic encircling your wrists and pinning them down against it.
(Agatha did not want to use your suggestion of fuzzy pink handcuffs that Jen gave you as a gag gift. She practically seemed offended that you even suggested it.)
“How long is she going to take?”
Your eyes dart over to Rio, sitting on the antique chaise, hands similarly bound by Agatha’s magic, resting in her lap. She’s dressed in a smart looking white button down, and tailored black dress pants. Agatha was serious about doing things her way - and the two of you were completely at her mercy.
Heavy boots stomp through the hallway, and you hold your breath as the woman of the hour enters. Dressed in that flannel that makes her icey blue eyes pop even more, sleeves rolled up halfway to show off her arms, she knows exactly what you want.
“So, you got anything to say for yourself?” Agatha raises an eyebrow, dropping a folder on the table. The expression on her face is cold and stern, but the exaggeration of her deepened voice makes you smirk a bit. For as much fuss she made over not wanting to roleplay, Agatha would never miss the opportunity to be dramatic.
“Just that you’ve got the wrong person.”
“Oh, yeah?” Agatha crosses her arms over her chest, propping her foot up on the other folding chair at the table. “My source over there tells me you were clearly at the mall where the jewelry store was robbed, on that same night. After closing time. Care to explain another reason for trespassing?”
The “source” chuckles from the couch. Agatha shoots Rio a glare, then turns back to you expectantly.
“Well?”
“I’m not talking. Not without a lawyer present.”
As Agatha stalks around the table towards you, you feel your breath hitch as she watches you with a predatory gaze. She places one hand on the table and one on the back of your chair, caging you in with her arms. Your eyes dart to her lips as she leans in close. It takes everything in your power to not just tug her in for a kiss right there.
“You seem to be under the impression that I play by the book. Well I’ve got bad news, hun. Nothin’s gonna stop me from cracking this case. And that includes a stubborn brat.” She grips your face roughly, barely hiding the way her breath hitches as you gasp under her manhandling. “We’re not leaving this room until you fess up. I don’t care if it takes all night, all week, all fuckin’ month.”
“C’mon, Detective,” you pout, words sounding jumbled as she squeezes your face. “I know you don’t want to do that.”
“You don’t have any idea what I want.”
“I know what you need,” you purr. “So damn pent up, it’s practically radiating off of you.”
“You’re a bigger fuckin’ brat than I thought. Just because you're such a slut, doesn’t mean I’m pent up,” she pushes away from you, knocking you off balance. With your wrists bound to the table, you manage to catch yourself as the chair goes crashing to the ground.
“Could’ve fooled me,” Rio chimes in with a grin. With a flick of her hands, Agatha casts a quick spell, conjuring a magic gag for Rio.
“I didn’t ask your opinion, Agent. I can handle this brat just fine on my own.” Rio rolls her eyes.
The angle at which you’re stuck to the table leaves you hunching over as you stand, bent over in a way that you’re sure gives Agatha a view up your dress. You shuffle awkwardly, trying to adjust to your new position.
“Maybe I’d be more convinced that you aren’t just itching for some release if you didn’t keep staring down my dress.”
“Shut up,” Agatha growls, pacing behind you like she’s circling her prey. You can feel her heated gaze on your bent over form and shake your ass a bit to entice her even more. A grunt escapes from her, clearly muffling a more obvious moan.
“Make me.”
The jolt of pain hits you before you even realize what happened. Agatha’s practically slammed you forward, face smushed against the table. Lucky for your limbs, she releases the magical binds temporarily. Her hand comes up to tug at your hair, her body pressed against your back.
Your ass is left vulnerable in this position, and the denim of her jeans rubs against it roughly. Her scent engulfs you completely as she leans down to whisper in your ear. “This what you want, brat? Wanted to see what would happen if you poked the bear?”
A chuckle escapes you. You can’t help it, you and Rio haven’t let that go for a single second.
Unfortunately for you, you’re in the most compromising position possible. Sharp pain rips through you as Agatha’s hand meets your ass, the sting accompanied by a yelp that’s ripped from your throat. Her hands grip you roughly, not allowing you any time to recover.
“Pathetic,” she practically spits at you. “This can end right now if you fess up.”
The roleplay efforts had almost completely left your mind at this point, but as always, Agatha was committed to the bit. Words bounce around your brain, but none of them seem right so you just let out a strangled whine. Thankfully, Agatha takes pity on you.
“Not gonna talk huh? I see how it is. Maybe I can offer a little…” Agatha’s hand cups your cunt, fingers sliding against the wet fabric of your underwear. “...motivation. Fuckin’ soaked already.”
Rio groans through her gag, and you feel Agatha smirk against the back of your neck. Using your hair as leverage, she moves you to face Rio. You moan as you see her, now even more bound as Agatha’s magic is keeping her legs spread, giving her no chance at even rubbing her thighs together for release. Her eyes are hazy as she watches Agatha slip her fingers past your underwear and through your slick folds, and you know that she’s desperate for a chance to touch, to taste.
“Looks like Agent Vidal’s enjoying the interrogation as well,” Agatha hums, kissing along your neck. You push your hips back against Agatha’s fingers as she pushes two into your wet heat, the sound of your soaked cunt echoing through the room as she thrusts. “Not nearly as much as you though, huh sweetheart?”
“Yes, Detective. I mean no, not as much as me, I mean…”
“Poor baby, broke your brain already?” Agatha laughs, curling her fingers in a way that she knows will drive you crazy. Your legs shake, your body tumbling toward climax faster and faster with every curl of Agatha’s fingers. “I can feel you clenching around me, bet you wanna cum so bad, hm?”
“Y-yes.”
“Oh, so that question was clear enough! Well, since you’re willing to answer things now…”
You could practically scream when Agatha pulls her hand away. She wipes her wet fingers on your ass and tugs you up to a standing position again. “Now, let’s try this again. Why were you at the scene of the crime?”
“Agatha--”
“That’s Detective to you. I told you we were gonna do this my way.” It occurs to you that the sentence is both in and out of character, and you realize that you fully got yourself into this situation, arousal dripping down your thighs with no sign of relief soon.
Agatha smirks at your betrayed expression. Your eyes dart over to Rio for help, but she just shakes her head as if she knew Agatha would pull something like this.
It’s gonna be a long night.
#agatha harkness x reader#rio vidal x reader#agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader#c: agatha#c: rio#s: agathario#agathario x reader#silver writes
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𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐬 𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬
pairings: piercer!ellie williams x fem reader
synopsis: your obsessed with ellie williams and have developed a little thing for her but never talked to her well not until you visited the tattoo shop.
warnings: mdni 18+, smut, cunnilingus (r receiving), strap on usage (calls it her dick), praise + degradation (slut, angel, beautiful, pretty), ellie williams is the mf warning, nipple piercings, public sex kinda.
a/n: I’m actually so fucking obsessed with ellie not even a joke, this was also a request from a friend so thanks bae.
credits: @mmadeinheavenn @hitobaby ❥
When it came to Ellie williams, your friends were always the first and last people to hear about how much you were obsessed with her. to the piercings and tattoos they heard it all, you went to the same university and attended most of the same classes but never spoke a word to eachother other.
You were sat in the canteen, laughing and making jokes with your friends whilst your attention turned to Ellie who had headphones in, carrying a backpack as she buys her lunch, sitting herself away from everyone.
Trying to ignore her presence, you try listening into your friend's conversation on her current sneaky link dustin, a boy on the football team who was the goalie star of the team but a total dick, she would always complain how he would be fucking other girls whilst he was with her but she'd managed to go back to him saying, 'it was just for the sex'.
Your head begins to spin, turning your attention back to Ellie who's busy phone in hand and a sub in the other, her piercing green eyes look up towards you, licking the crumbs off her lips not being able to read her unreadable expression before she goes back to what she was doing.
In your deluded mind, you coped up the idea that she might have a slight thing for you trying to convince yourself she'd might actually hook up with you.
It's Monday morning, sat in your lecture a few seats from the front as the teacher is rambling on about a midterm test that's coming up very soon and that everyone should be studying but truth be told you had been too lazy to do anything, staying in your bed whilst watching YouTube. you noticed Ellie hadn't arrived, consciously looking at the door waiting for the freckled beauty to walk through the door.
you tapped your pen against the desk, head in your hand thinking about what you were going to have for dinner later until your completely brung out of your daydream by the sound of the double doors opening, speaking of the devil.
Ellie walks in, hair in a ponytail. dressed in a metal rock shirt with ripped black jeans and black timberlands with her headphones in. she seems unfazed at the amount of distasteful looks she gets as she walks up the stairs in your direction, briefly looking at you and continuing towards the top. the professor continues to teach ignoring her as she writes on the whiteboard whilst talking.
You pretend to drop your pen on the floor, looking behind you to see her sat on the seats towards the right. she's typing on her phone, completely distracted, looking up to see you before smirking to herself.
you freak out internally, feeling your heart flutter a bit as you gripped your pen tightly, humming quietly to yourself thoughts filled with her.
a few days later, your at the tattoo place waiting to get your nipples done. it was a rather last minute decision since you've wanted them for a while but scared because of the horror stories you've heard from other girls which completely put you off at first but then you decided maybe it wouldn't be the same for you.
You begged your friend to come with too scared to go by yourself as you signed the paperwork to get it done. "Girl I'm sure you'll be fine your literally shaking"
you scoff, giving her a dirty look, "If it was you...you wouldn't of gotten them in the fucking first place at least I'm actually getting them done"
she rolls her eyes applying her lip gloss, "I just got my eyebrow pierced I think that’s adventurous enough" you continue to bicker, before a girl approaches you not paying attention before she cleared her throat.
"Y/N right" you look up to see Ellie, the girl you've been crushing over for the past month stood right in front of you and she was about to pierce your fucking tits.
never in your right mind would you think she worked at a fucking tattoo shop but here she was in a tank top, showcasing the variety of tattoos across her arms and neck. you don't remember her being this fucking built but then again you never saw her in uni without wearing punk shirts with a white long sleeved top underneath. your voice gets caught in your throat, your friend looking at you with a smirk as you push her off you, "yeah thats me"
Ellie pauses, looking at her clipboard before looking back at you. "come with me" she says, turning around as you get up from your seat. You follow her, briefly turning around to see your friend who's making sexual jokes as you flip her off.
your nervous, your heart racing as she leads you to one of the many rooms, allowing you to go in first closing the door behind you. "Have a seat on the bed behind you whilst I get everything prepared" she mutters, pointing at the bed as you sat yourself on top of it. you don't think you've ever heard her talk her voice sweet but rugged at the same time as she goes to wash her hands at the sink.
"you've ever pierced uh- nipples before" you quickly speak out, cursing at yourself for your stutter. she takes a second to look at you, not missing the way her eyes stop at your tits before licking her lips. "uh- yeah this isn't my first rodeo so don't worry your in good hands"
she drys her hands, putting on her gloves and sterilising the equipment on the tray before wheeling it towards you next to the bed. "can you lay down for me and lift up your shirt and remove your bra if you don't want me to look I won't" she says, going to turn around before you stop her.
"No its fine you'll see them anyway since your piercing them" Ellie smiles at you, slowly watching as you carefully lift your top up revealing the cute red lacy bra. The tension felt all too intimate for you feeling so vulnerable under her intimidating eyes, you don't know if she's recognised you or pretending not to still remaining professional as you struggle to unbuckle the hook.
in embarrassment, you face ellie who's busy getting her tools lined up. "hey can you help me unbuckle my bra having trouble taking it off" you squeak out and she smiles signalling you to turn around, feeling her cold hands hit the warmth of your back causing you to shiver slightly as you felt the bra strap unbuckle. "thanks"
you slip your bra off, placing it on the bed next to you. Ellie hands you a towel to help you cover up, laying back onto the bed the anticipation killing you as your nerves began to pick up again. "I'm going touch your breasts now tell me if you get too uncomfortable" you nod in response and ellie gently moves the towel down revealing your tits, sitting perfectly the cold air breezing past causing them to harden.
you hear her mutter 'fuck' under her breath, but you don't know if it was your imagination or not. shes gentle, lightly pressing her hand against your left tit, the cannula in her right. "take a deep breath for me" you do, lightly taking in air before feeling the needle going through your nipple.
opening your eyes, you see she's already putting in the jewellery. "I was expecting that to be way more painful" you admit causing her to laugh, screwing in the ball. "a lot of my customers have said that it's just your nerves making you think it will be fucking painful than it actually is"
"don't blame them I was shitting bricks when I got here" you reply, admiring the many piercings she had in her ear. you don't think you ever noticed she had that many, "that was me when I first got them, I did them myself which looking back was fucking stupid but I was 17 and wanted to be different"
"that’s so real" you could relate you managed to pierce your septum and helix in one night which resulted in blood, infections and a long healing period but in the end they turned out good. "ok I'm going to pierce the other one take another deep breath for me angel"
the name went straight down to your core, feeling the wetness seep onto your matching red lace underwear as you avoid her eyes. you take another deep breath before feeling the needle go through which felt a little painful than the last as she puts in the jewellery screwing the ball in.
"anddd.... I'm done take a look" you receive the mirror, angling them towards your tits, satisfied with the cute piercings. "omg they look so pretty" you gleam, taking a second to look at a shy Ellie, "thank you so much"
"your welcome, they suit you just as pretty as you" your gleeful, expression falls turning to look up at ellie who seems panicked at your shocked expression. "s-shit I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable I-"
"you think I'm pretty" you ask, needing the confirmation from her lips once again. "ever since I saw you in the library at uni I thought you were the most beautiful girl in there"
that was the signal you needed, "can I kiss you" ellie says, restraining herself from grabbing you and doing it herself. you nod and Ellie takes your lips on hers, heads moving against each other, roughly pulling at her neck as you both moan.
"so fucking beautiful" she mutters, against your lips grabbing your thighs and pulling you towards her. she makes her way down, leaving bruises all around your neck and kissing your pierced tits carefully making you wince before continuing all the way to your stomach.
"You moan so fucking pretty- shit I have to have you will you let me fuck this pussy baby" she asks- almost begging you to let you use her to get yourself off. "y-yes please fuck me ells" the yes a whimper, just wanting ellie to use her fingers on you.
Ellie wastes no time, taking off your joggers and throwing them across the floor. she moans at the wet spot that's appeared on the matching red lace underwear, helping you slip them off. "fuck" she mutters, your pussy glistening in your juices as Ellie slowly attaches her lips onto your clit, receiving a gasp from you.
She eats you like its her last fucking meal, licking and sucking like a mad woman, moaning at the way you taste and how angelic your moans were. "taste so fucking good"
"just like that els-fuck" she groans at your words, using her mouth to suction on your clit lapping up all your juices that seeped through the white protective cloth on the bed.
Your moaning, hands slipping into ellies hair and toes clenched too fucking blissed to say anything. "I-i want to fuck you" she says, stopping for a second bringing you out of your blissed out state, "what do you mean" your confused, wasn't she already doing it ?.
"you'll see turn around and arch your back against the bed" you obey, quickly rushing up and laying yourself against the bed, avoiding hitting your newly pierced tits.
You hear her unbuckle the belt to her jeans, pushing them down to her legs. briefly turning around, she pulls down her boxes revealing a black glittery strap on. "we only have 10 minutes before my next client so we have to make this quick, angel"
"look at you so ready for my dick, how much does she want it" she referring to your pussy, feeling her tap the tip against your opening. "sooo… bad please fuck me" you beg and you hear her chuckle at your desperate pleas, positioning herself before slowly pushing into you.
"ohhhh-fuck" you moan, exaggerating the oh as she puts her hands on your hips, "so fucking tight for me its been a long time since you've been fucked hasn't it" she asks, smacking your ass.
"s-so long" you admit, the longest time you had been without sex being 5 months. she pulls you back on her strap before thrusting into you at a slow pace, pulling back only to thrust back harder into you.
Your pushing back onto her, meeting her thrusts as your moans get louder. "shhhh angel your being too loud you don't want wanna get caught getting fucked by me right" her tone is almost mocking, feeling her hand push your head against the bed muffling your moans into the hard surface.
You nod, babbling curses and muffled moans as she increases her pace, ass smacking against her strap as your hand grips onto the discarded towel next to you. "fuck back onto me baby come on" she's spanking you, whilst letting you push back onto her as you turn back to face her who seems to be enjoying it as much as you were.
"you look so fucking beautiful from here angel, so desperate for me" she's pounding into you, trying your hardest to stay quiet, your piercing hits the table causing you to wince in pain, "fuck els- I'm gonna cum gonna make such a mess all over you" you moan out, eyes rolling back as you brain goes fuzzy
the loud smacks are echoed across the room, ellie going to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling on it harshly watching as your ass bounces back, almost creaming at the sight of it. "are you going to cum for me slut" you almost silent, ellie knocking the breath out of you as she fucks the shit out of you.
"nghhh- fuck I'm cumming" you squirt all over her strap, earning a satisfied moan from ellie, who thrusts into you a few more times before slowing down. you laid slump on the bed, feeling Ellie pull out of you as you felt her tongue return to your pussy, licking up the juices with a few grunts as you whimper in sensitivity.
"Didn't take you for a squirter" she finally says, helping you to your feet. "that was my first time doing it" you admit and her eyes widen, "really..well shit I guess you just weren't getting fucked right"
Ellie helps you get dressed, cleaning you up and replacing the now soaked sheet with a new one.
"I have to get ready for my next client but I guess I'll see you around, angel" she gives you one more kiss before letting you out, you felt the obvious limp in your step ignoring the dirty looks you got from everyone in the waiting area, returning quickly to your friend who had an obvious smirk on her face.
"so how was it" you grab your purse from her, taking out your card. "it didn't hurt to be-
"Not that how was it was she more of a pink or black strap type of girl" you slap her in the arm, an obvious glare on your face. "I don't know what you’re talking about"
"you do realise everyone heard you getting fucked like the obvious limp in your step and the hickeys all over your neck is a factor" your face drains in colour, no wonder why everyone was giving you dirty looks.
" I have no idea what your talking about let me pay so we can get out of here" you pay, embarrassment on your face as the receptionist gave you the ‘I know what you just did’ look.
Ellie walks out clipboard in hand, calling out a customers name eyes meeting yours before smirking, your face heats up before you drag your friend out of the shop, missing ellies obvious stares at your ass as you do.
“hi I’m ellie right this way”
#ellie the last of us#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x female reader#tlou2#black reader#lesbian#stargirl interlude#lesbian smut#smut#leiscoven#leiswxrld
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"Mr. Trump's election demonstrates how American tolerance for the unacceptable is nearly infinite. There are hundreds of absolutely mind-boggling things I could point to from the past decade...But three election in a row, Mr. Trump has been a viable Presidential candidate and our democracy has few guardrails to protect the country from the clear and present danger he and his political appointees will continue to confer upon us. Clearly, Mr. Trump is successful because of his faults, not despite them, because we do not live in a just world...And now Republicans will control the executive branch, the Senate and the House of Representatives. There will be few checks and balances...
...Mr. Trump's voters are granted a level of care and coddling that defies credulity and that is afforded to no other voting bloc. Many of them believe the most ludicrous things: babies being aborted after birth and children going to school as one gender and returning home surgically altered as another gender even though these things simply do not happen. Time and again, we hear the wild lies these voters believe and we act as if they are sharing the same reality as ours, as if they are making informed decisions about legitimate issues. We act as if they get to dictate the terms of political engagement on a foundation of fevered mendacity.
We must refuse to participate in a mass delusion. We must refuse to accept that the ignorance on display is a congenital condition rather than a choice. All of us should refuse to pretend that any of this is normal and that these voters are just woefully misunderstood and that if only the Democrats addressed their economic anxiety, they might vote differently. While they are numerous, that does not make them right.
These are adults, so let us treat them like adults. Let us acknowledge that they want to believe nonsense and conjecture. They want to believe anything that affirms their worldview. They want to celebrate a leader who allows them to nurture their basest beliefs about others. The biggest challenge of our lifetime will be figuring out how to combat the American willingness to embrace flagrant misinformation and bigotry.
As Mr. Trump assembles his cabinet of loyalists and outlines the alarming policies he means to enact, it's hard not to imagine the worst, not out of paranoia but as a means of preparation. The incoming President has clearly articulated that he may dismantle the Department of Education and appears to be giving the wealthiest man in the world unfettered access to the Oval Office. He plans to begin mass deportations immediately and has announced his pick of a Fox News host as the defense secretary -- the list goes on, each promise more appalling than the last.
We would like to believe that many of the ideas on Mr. Trump's demented wish list won't actually come to fruition and that our democracy can once more withstand the new President and the people with whom he surrounds himself. But that is just desperate, wishful thinking. As of yet, there is nothing that will break the iron grip Mr. Trump has on his base, and Vice President-elect JD Vance is young enough to carry the mantle going forward for political cycles to come.
Absolutely anything is possible, and we must acknowledge this, not out of surrender, but as a means of readying ourselves for the impossible fights ahead."
-- Roxane Gay, "Enough", The New York Times, November 17, 2024.
This is one of the best, most spot-on pieces about where we are and what we must prepare ourselves for in the aftermath of Donald Trump's re-election to the Presidency. These gift links will allow you to bypass the NYT paywall and read the entire article, and I urge you to share these links with as many people as you'd like.
#Presidential Election#Politics#Presidency#United States#America#Presidential Transition#Donald Trump#President Trump#President-elect Trump#Trump Administration#Trump Transition#MAGA Movement#Cult of Personality#Roxane Gay#New York Times#New York Times Opinion#ELECTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES#Consequences#This is your life
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Analysis of ALNST Character Relationship Metrics
My art book won't be here for a minute, but I ran some screenshots I saw on twt through an image translator and have a lot of thoughts:
TILL: Despite claiming to hate everyone in the world, Till ranks Ivan at 70% intimacy even as he identifies perturbing behaviors of Ivan's going back years and refers to him as "a bother". He also ranks Sua at 10% in spite of having little to say about her and finding it uncomfortable to be around her.
Though he postures at being misanthropic and has all the manners you'd expect of a boy who was half off at the human child pound, he's actually quite gentle and sensitive. This is reflected in one of the graduation messages he's left by a classmate as well:
The person he feels closest to is an unattainable crush, and someone who doesn't feel that close with him in return, likely because he's too shy to really approach her or carry on a conversation.
MIZI: That's Mizi, of course, who's rather childlike and naive initially. She likes everyone, but since Till chokes when he tries to speak to her and often keeps his distance, she wonders if he's avoiding her because he dislikes her.
Mizi gravitates towards people who she sees as "perfect", which is how she describes Ivan and Sua in her graduation message to Ivan:
She doesn't see the darker side of Ivan's personality (which has been described on several occasions, even by himself, as "twisted") because he's attractive, successful, and helpful to her.
Though she likes everyone, Sua is her "God", and the only thing that can keep them apart is the tragedy of their situation, which forces Mizi to grow up in a brutally painful way.
SUA: Sua is far less idealistic and naive than Mizi, and has clearly thought about sacrificing herself to save Mizi, since Ivan picks on her for thinking of doing so in an official comic. Accordingly, her feelings about Mizi are far more tinged by the knowledge that they will one day be torn apart by external circumstances. She laments that reciprocating her feelings will one day cause Mizi great pain.
She's always been more somber, and despite her surface similarities to Ivan (which he notes in a follow-up comic wherein he realizes he was wrong about Sua's feelings for Mizi being unrequited), she's quite different on the inside. Sua's more sensitive and thus her colder exterior serves to protect her, whereas Ivan's outward persona creates an illusion of normalcy that doesn't reflect his reality.
Sua views Ivan and Till as a threat and a nuisance, respectively. Like Till, she senses something strange about Ivan, and when it comes to Till, it's just one person too many around for her. This is fascinating to me, because I thought she might pity Till! Her feelings about Ivan were already pretty clear from this panel of the 'piggyback' comic, and she seems deeply hurt in the first comic linked by his prodding.
IVAN: For his part, Ivan is fascinated by Till even though he's content to sit back and observe, pestering him to get a reaction or his attention for a brief time. He doesn't expect anything in return but wants more than anything to be on Till's mind (hence behaviors like stealing Till's belongings and returning them to him, pretending he had found them).
He prefers Sua to Mizi despite his awareness that Sua doesn't particularly like him, seeing her as a sister and even telling her she's "twisted" like he is. He likes Mizi well enough, especially her sincerity, but seems to find her optimism a bit much at times.
The fact that Mizi and the others would likely consider Ivan and Mizi quite close while Ivan does not reflects how much he postures even in his closest relationships. He struggles to connect with those he's most compelled by and it's not clear if he really wants to.
Some Ivantill thoughts before I go:
There seems to be a common sentiment that it's tragic Till was unable to see how much Ivan loved him, and I think we'll likely get more of Till's perspective on Ivan and their relationship in round 7. But it may not be the case that Ivan even wanted his true feelings to be seen, or would have known what to do if Till had reciprocated them.
There's something almost voyeuristic and self-negating in his feelings for Till (see: "I can’t reach you, so I imagine alone/You who shines, I stand next to you" from 'Black Sorrow'). He has far more self-awareness and willingness to accept things as they are than Till, who doesn't see that Mizi only has eyes for Sua and who would likely struggle to accept that reality.
Ivan, on the other hand, is well aware that his feelings for Till are "shallow", a bright fantasy to get him through his dark reality, and he seems to sincerely believe that his death won't scar Till because he's never really broken through to him. He's a schemer, and comments he makes in his graduation message to Till and the interview he gives in advance of round 6 suggest that he may have been planning to sacrifice himself for some time.
Part of me wonders if he hoped it would leave a mark on Till. Choking, kissing, and violently sacrificing oneself are all aggressive, forward acts, especially from someone who used to toy with people to get his kicks but was otherwise quite passive and unfeeling.
There are a lot of parallels in the one-sided loves, like Till acting out of his usual character for Mizi, and Ivan doing the same because of Till, putting all hopes of being saved in something just out of reach, staying in chains for that one special person. But Ivan's psychology is quite different from Till's, and in fact closest to Luka's re: low or no empathy. Both Ivan and Till are significantly traumatized by their upbringings but Ivan's difficult early life in the slums and his experience being dangled off that rooftop seem to have damaged his ability to connect to others or feel much of anything.
Till is the first person for whom he feels anything while for Till, Mizi is an early crush he puts on a pedestal in a much more commonplace way. I think the shared trauma of competing on that stage makes it much more difficult for either of them to imagine moving on, but Ivan is not wrong in identifying that he won't find that feeling again.
The thing that intrigues me most about this series is the way the contestants' differences play out, particularly with regard to how they view love and how they respond to their individual and shared challenges. I'd love to get into it further another time but this is quite long already so thanks for sticking with it if any have (haha)
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just to fight?
(Ambessa Merdarda x Reader)
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summary: Ambessa, impressed by your skill, challenges you to train with her. She’s a teasing woman, but you sure didn’t expect the fight to become more than that.
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rating: explicit, minors dni
language: english
tags: #f/f #arcane #leagueoflegends #lol #Ambessa Medarda/Reader #Ambessa/Reader #Ambessa Medardaxreader #Ambessaxreader #AmbessaMedarda #LightDom/sub #OralSex #Sex #IWroteThisInsteadofSleeping #Training #TrainingCamp #TrainingFight #SoftAmbessaMedarda #ReaderInsert #y/n #wIw #UselessLesbians
link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61339111
notes: I haven't written anything in a while. Wrote this when i should just be sleeping but this woman doesn’t leave my mind! Correct me if you see any errors and comment your thoughts about it <3 I don’t play league so…arcane !!! I accept suggestions to write fanfics about arcane characters x reader…and other fandoms…but i might take a whileeee to do them.
I hope you like it byee
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"I would like you to accompany me"
"Where?" That's what you wanted to ask, but you just say it in your head. You wouldn't have the courage to question Ambessa Medarda's word, because despite everything she was your lord, the person you should follow and obey
「• • •」
You had found it really strange that, for the first time since you joined the Noxian army, the warlord had come to see one of the daily training sessions, this never happened. You didn’t understand her motive, yet, to the surprise of many, there she was, attentive to everything your colleagues and you did
You were physically tired of having trained all afternoon, but the training was the usual for you.
You had been a soldier long enough to get used to that heavy training routine, but your boss's attention made everything much heavier, you felt you couldn't fail
You rarely did it, to be honest. You weren't extremely strong, like many, but you were agile and intelligent, which made you survive until now
「• • •」
While walking through the corridors you couldn't stop questioning yourself about where Ambessa Medarda would take you, it was rare for her to call someone particularly for whatever it was and distinctions were only in special times. You hadn't done anything wrong either, at least not that you consider.
"You look scared. That is something that doesn't look good on you." - She says with a firm and almost defiant tone.
"I just... I just wanted to know what's going on…”
"Why so much curiosity? Are you afraid?" - When she says this, she stops walking slightly and looks you in the eyes.
"N-no." - You said as firmly as you could, the last thing you could do was embarrass yourself in front of the person who has the most authority before you.
"That's good."
After some time walking Ambessa stops in the hallway, you almost bump into her, distracted by the million thoughts crossing your mind. You two are strangely close to Ambessa's office, which you thought would be your stop today. Of course, it wouldn't be a good thing if it were.
Nonetheless she opens another door.
Was it a...private training chamber? It was much cozier than your regular one, but why would she have taken you there?
"Won't you ask any questions? I didn't think you were so coy" - It seems that whenever she opens her mouth it's to provoke
"I apologize."
"Don't."
"Why am I here?"
"Why should you be, little lamb?"
When you hear her call you that you look into her eyes with a certain intensity, it annoys you when people try to diminish you, but then you realize that you can't look at someone like her that way and your expression changes
"You can get upset, that's how people fight better.”
"Did I come to fight?"
"To train with me"
"Why?"
"Because I want to." - Her face is serious. It is not an option, it is what you have to do. - "Now stop chattering and let's start" - She says as she enters the room and goes to the fight area.
You do the same.
Really, you should have noticed before, she was dressed in a training uniform, just like you, so it was obvious that she had come or was going to train, but you had no idea that she invited soldiers to train with her.
"Do you usually train with...soldiers?"
"Only with the ones I like" - She says cunningly. She's someone who likes to take advantage of situations, and she might not even really like you, but when she passed through the corridor and I saw you fight so foxily she couldn’t stop thinking if she could break you.
It's a constant within her, that of power.
You don't seem very confident about your future performance fighting against her, but you accept the fact that she chose you and you feel happy about it. You don't know very well how to react to what she said, so you simply put yourself in a battle position, preparing to start fighting.
She seems happy with your initiative and gives you a slight smile.
"Let's see how much you can handle." - It looked like a threat coming from her. You didn't know how far this training could go but you were definitely going to be beaten up, even so, you didn't want to lose your pride.
"Let's go then.”
Ambessa is a warrior, always imposing and focused on her goal. She knows she is completely in control, but in a training battle, what is at stake is not only winning, but also observing the other, understanding movements and weaknesses and in this you usually always overcome.
When you start the fight by deferring a punch in her stomach, her face doesn't reveal any emotion, but her eyes are sharp.
She even smiles a bit and moves with the precision of a predator around you, which leaves you apprehensive about whether you should have done that or not.
Her strong and dominant posture and her muscles are prepared to move at the right time, even so the way she is surrounding you is provocative, it makes you anxious.
Ambessa gives then the first step she advances quickly, but you, attentive, manage to escape quickly.
She admires, in her conscience, the grace with which you did it.
Without wasting time, she tried again, advancing with an accurate punch. But you now even more focused, you used your agility to escape, turning quickly and moving away from Ambessa with a light jump. You were trying to process how the rhythm of the fight was going to be. Your breathing was faster, but you managed to stay calm, controlling your steps and positioning yourself strategically. Ambessa doesn't seem surprised by your speed because that's precisely why she chose you in the middle of all the soldiers she saw. Quickly the lord composed herself, ready to resume the attack.
With a slight smile, she advanced again, now more cautious, studying the movements you did. She knew she could break you anyway.
However, you used your distance to buy time, moving fluidly, trying to predict Ambessa's attacks. When she approached, you leaned back, avoiding a direct blow. With a quick impulse, you got up, trying to hit a counterattack punch. But Ambessa dodged with surprising agility, always in control of the situation.
Over time, Ambessa felt that she needed to intensify the battle. Her patience runs out quickly, and she no longer wanted to play with the opponent. Her eyes shone with a fierce determination. She advanced harder, moving more brutally, trying to catch you by surprise. Ambessa used her height and strength advantage to surround you, without giving you space to escape again. With a quick and decisive movement, Ambessa grabbed your wrists, forcing you to stay on the floor.
You tried to fight against it, but Ambessa's strength was overwhelming. With a precise blow, Ambessa immobilized you, holding you tight, until there was no way to escape.
With a instigative smile, she leaned a little closer, and the provocation came out naturally.
"I thought it would be more difficult... Where was all that strength you seem to have?" - Ambessa's tone was full of fun, playing with your visible frustration.
But you didn't give up. With impressive agility, you used the moment of distraction to unexpectedly escape from Ambessa's domain, turning around and trying to take advantage of the gap. You didn't have the strength to completely immobilize Ambessa, but your determination made you try at all costs. With considerable effort, you tried to spin and position yourself behind Ambessa, trying to apply an immobilization technique.
Ambessa, now with a wider smile, noticed your effort and the difficulty you were having to apply the blow. - "Oh, so here's your great hidden force, little lamb."
"That's not my name.” - You answer. She laughed softly, more impressed with your persistence than with your attempt.
"Good try, but you will need more than that to get me, child." - With this, Ambessa got rid of you and the fight continued.
At a certain point you were already exhausted, your movements slower, your breathing heavy. Ambessa knew it was the right time. In a quick movement, she used her strength to knock you to the ground again, immobilizing you with precision, leaving you with no space to escape. Despite trying to resist, you no longer had the necessary energy to continue.
Ambessa, with a satisfied smile, kept you on the ground for a moment. - "You tried, but it wasn't enough..." - she said in a soft voice, but you felt that she couldn't finish the sentence because she didn't know your name.
With a certain shortness of breath you say - "Y/n"
"There's still a lot to learn, Y/n, but I see great potential in you."
You, with your eyes still full of determination, looked at her, but the tiredness was evident. Ambessa finally released you, helping your body up.
"You tried very hard, I admire that" - She said with a kinder tone. - "But it can't always be about winning, right? - She provokes.
You looked at Ambessa, still hurt by the defeat, but with a sincere smile on your face.
"Thank you for choosing me to fight," - you replied, with a renewed determination.
Ambessa watched you with a respectful look, placing a hand on your shoulder. Then her expression changed, something sly there in the middle.
She approached you
"Do you think I would call you just to fight?"
She doesn't seem to be joking when she says that and you get confused for a moment. Like what the hell was she saying.
Her hand goes up from your shoulder to your chin and stays there.
Ambessa can't deny it, she feels attracted to women who are strong, who don't give up and the fact that you have the courage to continue training with her pleased her. Not to mention that she may have chosen you for being agile and looking determined, but she also chose you because you were beautiful.
Your head is at a million per hour.
Ambessa Medarda, one of the strongest warriors who has ever stepped on earth, is touching you as if instead of having just fought with each other, you had met at a bar and she was ready to take you home.
You've had sex with women, that's not even the problem, but in what world would a woman like this look at you in such a...seductive way.
"I-I don't think I understood…” - It's the only thing you can say.
"I can make you understand.”
And with that she grabs your head and pulls you for a kiss so intense that you lose your balance and your head turns in confusion.
It takes time for you to realize what is happening, but the moment you orient yourself, you do not miss the opportunity that is given to you.
Maybe you're even dreaming, then you give everything you have in that kiss and hold yourself in her arms.
She seems to like it and one of her hands lowers to your waist and pulls you for your bodies to touch. The hot feeling inside you makes you feel like it's the first time you've ever been touched by someone.
Your lips separate, but she doesn't let you go and looks at you.
"Did you understand now?"
Maybe you're crazy. Maybe it's your soldier instincts. But you're ready to do anything this woman asks you.
So, puzzled, you just nod your head to say yes.
"Good." - She smiles at you and grabs you by the thighs making you jump to her lap.
From one moment to the next you are carried to her room and during all that time your lips did not come off. It was also impossible when everything in her was honey, the taste of the mouth, the color of the eyes...
She closes the door by leaning you into it, with you still on her lap.
"Before anything else. You have to realize that this won't be a habit."
Well, it could be, but you didn't want to know about it now, if it was supposed to be only once then let it be now.
"There's no harm in that." - You hug her neck and kiss the woman in the most seductive way you can.
Ambessa likes that, the submission and acceptance you have right now, without losing your determination. It's a turn-on. She smiles in the middle of the kiss, but doesn't stop it. Instead she puts you on the floor, with you still clinging to her neck, but she takes the edge of your uniform sweater and starts pulling to take it off and you without hesitation put your arms up and leave it there, helping her.
"No bra? To fight?" - She really wasn't expecting that.
"They stick too much." - For some reason you're not ashamed, you're more proud of what's happening than anything else, you feel incredibly good about yourself, it's not just anyone who goes to Ambessa’s room to fuck. With her. You think.
"I respect that decision" - She smiles at you and kneels in front of you. Your surprised and try to make her get up, but she rejects your attempt to help her.
It's impressive, she's still incredibly big on her knees. Her face is directly in front of your breasts. You flow a little, you don't believe what's happening.
There is no hesitation in Ambessa when she starts sucking one of your nipples, while grabbing your other breast.
Immediately you feel amazing, you breathe deeply. With goosebumps all over your skin, it was impossible to get more excited, but maybe you even got.
She bites the sensitive place. You feel weak and can't take it anymore, you let out a moan.
Ambessa of course, appreciates that and starts delivering kisses all over your chest, as if your body was a temple in which she prays.
You take your hand to her hair, and almost caress the strands. It's surprising that she's not being very rude so far.
Until now...
She stops kissing you and gets up, starting to take off her shoes, which at this point were already making her uncomfortable.
"Go to the bed.” - It was an order.
You did it like that, she turns to you.
"Take off your clothes.” - One more order. It was strange to receive orders of this kind, but coming from her, there was nothing else to do but obey.
You did what she told you while looking into her eyes, however you didn't show yourself much, because you didn't know if she was impatient or not, when her gaze seemed to devour you on the other side of the room.
"Good girl.” - She says when you're done. The comment makes you happy. - "Now lie down on the bed and spread your legs wide.”
That moment was like being on the edge of a cliff: curiosity and desire call you to move forward, but shyness holds you, making your body feel tense, but still, the desire to overcome shame and do what you really want, and give her what she wants, is stronger. So, even with your heart beating a thousand, you move on and do as she asked you. You feel the cold hit you on the uncovered skin when you position yourself, your body shivering once again as she begins to approach the bed.
She positions herself between your legs and takes off her own shirt, then the bra that held her breasts. After that she puts both hands on each side of your head and you realize that she is giving you an opportunity to touch her and explore what is in front of you. Immediately you affectionately touch the scars that pass through her chest. She seems to melt with that touch and caresses your hair.
After that you touch her breasts, your care makes her laugh a little.
"Do you think I'm made of porcelain, doll?"
You wanted to answer yes, that what you had in front of you was too precious not to be careful with, but you realized that she was just provoking you.
"You're very beautiful" - You simply said the most honest thing that went through your head.
She seems to be almost shy about it, the compliment moved her somehow.
"I know.”
Soon after she says that, she comes down on you and starts distributing kisses down your thighs. You can't do anything else but close your eyes and appreciate all the sensations it brought you.
She began to kiss the inside of your thighs and climb dangerously slowly, you already knew what was coming so you held her hand that was still hovering on the soft sheets of the bed, since the other helped in the caresses.
After a while, the kisses and the licking passed near your vulva, circled it. You couldn't stand that slow speed, it made the heat between your legs unbearable.
"My lady..." - You sighed so low that she didn't even hear it, you didn't know if you should call her that. - "Ambessa." - This time louder.
She stopped - "I know you're impatient, but you have to enjoy the moment, doll.”
"The moment is being very long, I want you in me. Now." - It sounded even quite sturdy for someone who is begging for her own boss to fuck her.
Ambessa smiled when she heard that and without taking her eyes off you licked your core from the bottom up, very slowly, dragging all your wetness with her tongue.
That alone gets a moan out of your mouth.
"Oh my..."
For Ambessa this is like asking for more.
She wet her mouth and then slowly began to insert her tongue and move it up and down. It made you go crazy. You didn't care at all, you just moaned as much as you needed. She loved it. You were careless in the right moments.
She increased the length of her tongue to go into you slowly and continue the circles inside you for a while.
She felt your juices and just swallowed them without stopping the motion, tasting you as if you were a candy.
Right when you thought you were going to cum that way, she just brought in a thumb and started to slowly touch your clit, circling around it gently while her tongue was working inside of you.
After a while like this, you thought you were going to reach your climax, you even used the hand that wasn't in her hair to stimulate your own nipple, but when she realized this she stopped, restarting your orgasm to move her tongue up, bringing one of her fingers into your entrance.
But suddenly she changes her mind and maturely decides to insert two fingers in tou.
You gasped, not expecting that much of a stretch on you, but the feeling of burning was so good you moaned in pleasure.
When she realized that you liked it, she continued and moved in and out while sucking your clit, going faster as you became closer to cum.
You were moaning loud and the sensation was so intense that while shaking you were squeezing your legs with her head in the middle.
You released yourself in her, she felt a hot sticky load on her fingers and didn't stop.
You were stimulated far beyond orgasm, which made you scream a little and try to pull her head up by the hair but she, with her brute force, kept herself in the middle of your legs and made you come again soon after, as if by magic.
It had never happened to you before. You're breathing heavily and you look at her completely defeated, with your eyelids heavy from all the effort you made today. She withdraws from your thighs and puts herself on top of you again, giving you a soft kiss on the forehead.
"You did amazingly well, doll"
"M-me?" - You try to speak between sighs - "I think...you're the one who di...did"
She shut you up with a kiss.
"I think you are now my favorite soldier, Y/n" - She told you but you were already seeing stars of so much tiredness, so you just smiled. She noticed that.
"Come here" - She picks you up and puts you in her bed, a very affectionate act, you weren't expecting that.
She covers you with her silk sheets and enters the other side of the bed grabbing you in a careful hug, in which your head rested on her chest.
"And you?" - You hug her waist. For some reason, in the middle of your sleeping and after sex haze, you feel that you are failing her by not making her feel pleasure back.
"I'm fine..." - She says and then brings her mouth closer to your ear and you can feel the warm air of her velvety voice. - "Hearing you like that was enough for me."
And that's how you went into a deep sleep, which you no longer remembered it was possible to have. Of course, it had to be this woman bringing it to you.
#ambessa medarda#ambessa x reader#arcane ambessa#ambessa league of legends#ambessa smut#ambessa x you#lol#league of legends#arcane
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