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mcbitchtits · 9 months

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and now it’s time for silly songs with larry minnesota cuke, the part of your dash where i keep talking about indiana jones, forever.

current state of the view count:

here be spoilers. i might say i’d stop tagging after we cross the month threshold but tbh the way i keep writing novel-length nonsense it will probably just stay under a cut regardless

i know we got the wilhelm and the milennium falcon/plane engine noise (can’t remember where, on the latter) but i avidly watched the credits last time and ben burtt was not involved in this one. dunno how much of this is lucasfilm restructuring under disney or them handing it over to a mostly fully new team (like new costumers being mostly disconnected from the old ones), but it’s a little sad to see. it’s not like he’s retired. (I mean, maybe he was overbooked or didn’t want to work on it, but still!) (i may be the singular person out here regularly making raiders foley art jokes around the internet, so, you know, forgive me on my frustration with this point.)

what do you think happened to that poor italian pilot after everything? are they long-distance friends now, a la sallah or presumably renaldo, etc? (which, by the way, I can’t remember if I ever speculated about it on here, but I was hoping we’d meet up with one of Young Indy’s FFL friends in Morocco. I was clearly wrong about that.) or do you just go back to your italian pilot life trying not to think about how you went 2200 years into the past? i mean, shit gets weird with pilots. so it’s not like he’d be an odd man out just ranting paranoically about watching out for dangerous cloud formations at altitude. (and when i say “shit gets weird with pilots”, i also mean, like, it’s a personality thing. SO.) (i mean...)

been trying to pay more attention to the score on subsequent viewings because it hits so differently for me. I think, other than Helena’s Theme, that it just uses older cues a lot more? which, arguaby, it’s not like the past sequels haven’t done that, but much like my script complaints it feels like it’s Oops! All References. which I did notice— pretty sure when the bomb drops in the intro, it’s the ants swarming cue from Crystal Skull. (which is kind of an interesting comparison, musically, thematically!)

on the flip side, I was dinking around with Helena’s Theme on the keyboard— I’m fairly but not 100% certain it’s just the Raiders March notes rearranged. which is sweet, and I like that it went someplace different musically, but also it’s interesting to note how that’s such a musical diversion from John Williams’ other work. Star Wars intertwines themes a lot, but so has Indiana Jones; notably with Mutt’s theme in Crystal Skull but iirc also with Henry Sr in Last Crusade? now i’m second guessing myself. ANYWAY. Williams does it a lot, frequently in little ways that are just a bar or two or four, so it’s notable to me that Helena’s doesn’t.

which is fine; it’s a good theme. on the other hand, I feel like that reinforces again my structural complaints with Dial of Destiny, in that things just seem tacked on together in a pile and don’t really mesh; and moreover, that we frequently are given Helena’s Theme when we want to hear the Raiders March. intertwining them as countermelodies or harmonized or whatever would have given us both. and 1) it’s interesting that they chose only to give us Helena and not Indy, musically, and 2) this echoes the structure of not actually actively resolving (or, uh, even really addressing forthrightly) their character arcs/conflict!

on my last viewing i went to see it in this theater that used to be an indie/art theater and got bankrupted by covid and resold, and it was very nice internally but i spent the whole movie wondering what the fuck kind of weird vignetting was going on with the film/lenses. finally made it to the underwater scenes and it was just dark as shit, so I suspect, looking back, it was just that the projector had bulb issues, which is frustrating on its own but even moreso as a purportedly indie/art theater. (also i got a trailer for that theater camp movie this time, which is a hilarious pre-roll choice? lol)

i cannot stop thinking about the whole Science But Also We’re Going To Nod Vaguely To Athena And Put Moons On Shit design premise. i get the moons if you’re trying to make everyone remember that the dial is a celestial body calendar calculator (which it was!) but WHY JUST THE MOON. WHY EVEN BOTHER PUTTING ATHENA IN THERE. if it’s SCIENCE then put THE MOON AND THE STARS AND THE PLANETS. if it’s MYTHOLOGY then PUT IN ARTEMIS AND APOLLO/ETC. AND IF IT’S ABOUT TIME THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE GIVEN ME KRONOS AND THE TITANS GOD DAMNIT

/rant

anyway. lazy production design (and/or writing/plot choice if it was them) in my opinion.

BUT NO WHAT’S THIS IT’S MORE THOUGHTS ABOUT THE GRAPHIKOS

I think they melted it... digitally? The fire looks digital, and the melted wax looks digital, and there’s a notable texture difference from the shot of the disc in the melted wax vs. the subsequent shot of Indy pulling the disc out. So I’m very curious to know if it was actually digital or practical. Generally, yes, safer for fire. My preference obviously as a Raiders/etc fan specifically is that it should have been practical to the extent they could have. And of course we can argue maybe the shot difference is just waiting for the wax to cool enough to pick it out the disc safely, but, eh. idk. it didn’t feel tactile, you know? That’s part of what these movies are about.

(I mean, likely, lighting some 151 or whatever on a Wide Candle would probably not burn sufficiently long to melt it? But COME ON, THE POWER OF EDITING, I BELIEVE IN YOU) (also perhaps i will try lighting one of my junk candles on fire later with the power of rum. just for experimental purposes. SCIENCE, YAKNOW)

side note, historically, i want to say a wax tablet like that would have had a wood frame? also, i don’t know what kind of wax they would have made it out of. i could easily go research this, so i guess that’s going on my list next.

So the big thing I keep chewing on is the contrast-not-contrast of Voller and Indy, and what the fuck the plot was actually trying to say. (and, frankly, as I have mentioned, I keep coming up with ????? because I think they didn’t have a good thesis and thus the structure floundered and the point is kind of lost, aside from the broad strokes of what we already “know” about Indy, both the person and the character.) Voller’s Mediterranean look is interesting to be because it seems like a pallette-swap of Indy. Light toned fedora, light toned jacket, slacks and a shoulder bag, all still in natural, earth tones, but not dark browns. To me this is a more interesting contrast than is happening almost anywhere else, because it’s reminiscent of Belloq’s pallette (usually whites and creams, both with pith helmet and later a fedora) and also Panama Hat’s (love those serial flick names). Belloq and Indy are explicitly very close to the same, “rational” archaeologists in pursuit of some academic fame or notoriety, and also a little bit in the realms of questionable ethics. (Until it turns out, of course, that Belloq would sell his soul to the Nazis, and Indy wouldn’t, though let’s not get into the depths of that examination here.) Voller also consistently sees Indy as a comrade-in-arms, the rational scientists whose pure pursuit of truth (and their own goals) is above all else.

And, of course, in the end, we see how that plays out more explicitly, Voller in the plane says “I can’t stay here,” while moments later Indy begs to be allowed to; “let me stay.”

Of course Indy would never be a Nazi so it’s necessary both structurally (and, uh, because otherwise this would be a literal disaster of a movie) for them to be counterpoints. But while this holds in the production design and the general basic structure, again, I think they really lost the plot in the nuances.

Indy is a man of science. Even all the while he’s come to appreciate (in past adventures) the existence of some mysticism. This movie, so much thematically, is about Science (Archimedes and the antikythera) and Indy being a scientist and also Voller being a scientist. It’s also as much about belief; Indy in Science AND ALSO His Marriage, and Voller in Science. But, structurally, it keeps trying to pit Science against everything else; this in part is why the “dial” is the least interesting macguffin we’ve seen so far— it’s not really resonant to the story. (Mostly this failure belongs, as I’ve said, to the lack of character arc that should be underlying everything.)

Indy insists on being a scientist, despite the fact that he’s also willing to write off everything he’s seen as “how hard you believe in it”. Is that not worth examining, as a central thesis of the series?! Why does it get such a cop-out line?! (Again, because I think they didn’t know what they wanted to say, so they waffled on everything, and instead you get a hemming and hawing script without resolution.)

As a scientist, at the very least, I think he would be more intrigued by everything that has happened to him. Scientists love when things yield unexpected results, because that’s something new to explore.

Which, in that same vein, I can’t buy that he wouldn’t think the moon landing or space exploration was interesting. I can’t buy that he’d feel “replaced”— obviously, this is very much an angle on heroism and culture that is used by nazis and other cultural supremacists— but Indy is a guy who wants to learn, to teach, to engage with the world, to go on adventures. (If he’s jealous, show us that?)

And again, again, again, one can certainly argue that this is all specifically not him, not himself, because of the depression of losing Mutt and his marriage; that’s fine, but I think the script does a shit job of establishing that or doing anything with it.

And if Indy feels “replaced” (which, again, this thing they kept telling us in the promo material I don’t think was borne out well in the actual text!), and he’s longing for some lost era of himself (except, again, that he pushes everyone away and continues to claim “this isn’t an adventure”), what the fuck is the actual text of the movie structurally trying to say by bringing him “back” at the end? If he’s not actually a relic of the past (uh, literally and figuratively), and we still need heroes of his type today, why do we not spend more time and finesse with that character arc??????? You cannot posit this as your central thesis and then nearly forget about it until the last five minutes. I mean, you can, I guess. They maybe did. And it sucks all the more for it.

If Voller’s obsession with science is what gets him stuck as a literal and figural relic, and Indy gets to look to the future to continue to be a hero and be needed in the world around him, why do we spend so much time valorizing the antikythera as a scientific object instead of a more mystic one, if Indy needs Belief and Awe and The Power of Friendship and The Power of Punching Nazis and so do we?! Again, and I know I’ve said this a billion times already, but WHY DO HELENA AND INDY NEVER HAVE THAT MOMENT OF RESOLUTION??? Helena needs to realize it too! Indy needs to stop being so cynical and see what he already knows!

I just. urgh. like I said. it’s hard to write about with clarity because I think they lost it themselves. And, more objectively, the script is narratively fighting itself on these themes in part because “making the antikythera scientific and not very mystic” is a reaction to Crystal Skull more than it is a reflection on the rest of the series or letting it stand on its own merits. And, again, I think that not only creates a story that is at odds with itself constantly and messy as a result, but it also does no service to Raiders as a story nor the other entries in the series, nor to Indiana Jones as a concept or a franchise. (And, most notably, it makes a bad “finale” entry!)

I’ll probably have more to say on this later, and, you know, eternally, because every time I sit down to write out what I’m trying to say I end up saying something completely else so I’m just over here piling up disjointed comments on top of disjointed comments.

#indiana jones #dial of destiny #spoilers #music #etc

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toosmallformyowngood · 2 years

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Okay so I finally figured out how to get picrew to work and so I went on a spree of making a million different picrews of one of my dumbasses living rent free in my head ocs. I'll probably do more for others later but I just had to get this stupid secretly an eldritch horror twink out into the world and since I cannot draw I have resorted to this. He's not exactly as I pictured him in my head (none of the hair colour options really matched the auburn / burnt umber I was going for, and amber eyes are apparently not common enough that they're a universal option so I bounced between picking brown and yellow. Also skin colour is slightly off but whatever- I'm not allowed to be picky), but close enough. Without further ado, meet Arian, my bastard gremlin bitch boy!

(Tw for cigarettes because he thinks being an unfathomable horror gives him a pass)

He is smiling here and I think this is the only picture where he's genuinely smiling because I ended up just making him look worried in all the others. It's still accurate to his character though because he has anxiety (because he's a dumbass bottom). (On a side note I think this is the one that's closest to his actual canon skin colour. The rest are all too far off-) (Dunno why his eyebrows are that colour tho lol)

Find the link here!

He has a pet rat that makes occasional cameo appearances btw. Her name is Cheezit because Ari panic named her on the spot and it stuck. The rat is like 15 years old at this point and Ari has no idea how long rats are supposed to live but he's starting to get slightly concerned that his rat might be magical. Stop smoking around your pet Arian you are an irresponsible rat owner.

Find the link here!

One more pic ft. Cheezit because I needed everyone to see her agian. (This is one of the ones where his skin is wayyy too light but ah well) (His hair also looks fucky but what am I gonna do about it?)

(Is it just me or does he look twelve? Lmao)

Find the link here!

Bonus picrew of Cheezit lol

(None of the rat options in other picrews are consistent so I guess this counts as Cheezit's canon appearance)

Find the link here!

I made him here in the a TMA picrew maker so that I could dick around with the more "monstrous" features but I made him normal first because I'm nice like that. He's smiling agian but he looks kind of pained lmao.

Find the link here!

Also I surrendered to impulse and put him in a mesh top you're welcome. He looks like that one smug cat meme.

Find the link here!

Anyway this is all him looking fairly normal, but... he gets... worse. I couldn't find a picrew for making full up eldritch monstrosities because A it would be difficult for someone to create and B the whole point in this case is that no one can describe him fully like that, because how do you describe a colour that doesn't exist on any spectrum, or a form that staunchly refuses to follow the established laws of linear physics. That said, I can give him too many eyes, which is one of his canon features when he's not very carefully keeping them "closed". For the sake of the following I'll say he's just sort of... half true appearance? Maybe he's stressed or like, super tired or something. Old one equivalent of waking up and forgetting to put on your underwear except in this case it's forgetting to hide the fact that your shadow looks wrong and also that you are covered in eyes. Obviously tw for body horror in the following but one of them has real eyes and eye contact and a depiction of his fucked up shadow so just fair warning for that. Also tw for some slight unreality because I use the royal "you" and that might be upsetting especially because it's in the context of him panicking and gaslighting the subject, as in "he assures you you're imagining things".

✂️----------✂️

Here's one I made in the TMA picrew. He's very stressed to be showing even a little bit of his actual appearance because he's very insecure so he's holding himself for comfort like an absolute dork. The sparkles around his head aren't part of his appearance I just added them because I'm gay and like sparkles.

Find the link here!

No twink is complete without a mesh top so there's that. I forfeited the extra extra eyes for more tendrils just because I wanted to see what it would look like because I was cruelly forced to pick between one or the other.

Find the link here!

Anyway have some random facts about him since you made it this far, starting with things that should be canon overall to his appearance but I couldn't get in some or any of the picrews:

Annnd here's the one that all those tws were for. He's stressed about something and losing control so he's trying very hard to cover up the eyes with bandages. It is not working and his shadow is still staring directly at you. It doesn't blink even when he does. He is assuring you very insistently that you are imagining things. (Cheezit left the scene and decided to take a nap on Ari's pillow instead of dealing with his bullshit)

Find the link here!

- He has a small mole under his right eye.

- Freckles! Lots of them across his face and shoulders, but they're hard to see because he has dark skin. They're genetic as opposed to sun based, though.

- He's got a tiny scar on the left side of his upper lip. Jokingly tells people he got it from various outrageous stunts but actually he fell on his face playing soccer on the concrete when he was a kid.

- Has a few a lot of piercings. Both of his ears are pierced "regularly" and he usually wears simple, nondescript hoops or studs. He also has those two piercings on the shell of his right ear and a barbell piercing on his right eyebrow. His belly button is pierced but he doesn't wear anything there anymore and the holes have pretty much closed up. Also has dermal piercings down the length of his back that usually hold barbells but get switched out for D rings for circus style body suspension. (He's definitely a bit of a daredevil and likes doing a lot of things people consider to be "extreme" or anything like that, hence why he knows how to pole dance and can manage himself somewhat passably on aerial silks. Plus he just likes the feeling of being up in the air)

- He's arabic, though inherited darker skin from his moms side of the family. Finds it somewhat funny when people keep giving him "subtle" side eyes trying to figure out what race he is.

- Animals tend to be suspicious of him on instinct given the whole uncanny valley vibe he sometimes gives off, but they aren't necessarily repelled by him. They warm up quickly enough if he just chills like any other person and maybe gives them a few treats.

- This man drinks way too much fucking coffee somebody stage an intervention. I'm pretty sure his blood is 90% coffee grounds at this point

- Speaking of blood, his is an ever so slightly off shade of maroon. Looks like blood from a severely dehydrated person even if he's completely fine.

- Also he has genetic high blood pressure. He really needs to get his health in check he's going to give himself a heart attack. Ari stop smoking please-

- In "eldritch form" he likes to attach himself to walls like some kind of fucked up slime mold and just chill there. Will peel off the wall like a cheap sticker if you startle him though and then he'll be pissed because he's just ripped off all the skin on his back like some sunburn from hell. Will also probably whine about the possibility of having ruined his tattoo

- Said tattoo is a 'tramp stamp' on his lower back, just above his ass. It's a tiny snake inked in black that's curled in a figure eight. He got it while he was sort of drunk but he doesn't really regret it. Considered naming it but he dropped the idea when he couldn't think of anything.

- If I had to pick I'd say he's a dog person because he vibes with the energy, but he has no problem with cats at all. Thinks hairless cats are really cute and can and will kiss them on their little heads.

- Dreaded morning person. But also somehow a night owl? Does he even sleep? The answer is yes, but only after he crashes from the caffeine high of like ten cups of coffee. Has no sleep schedule but despite this still gets up at ungodly hours of the morning to go to the gym like an absolute psychopath

- His eyesight is absolute shit and he needs glasses but refuses to wear them. Won't put in contacts either because he thinks they're annoying. Justifies walking into poles and doorframes as being "worth the price". He gets a little bit of a pass though because he is 4d and trying to navigate a 3d world and I don't think they make glasses for that. Still his eyesight is objectively crap either way no matter what so he can't really use it as an excuse.

- He can drive if it's an absolute emergency but he prefers not to for the above reason of his sight being crap. He'll only get behind the wheel if he has no other choice and even then he's internally panicking.

- Surprisingly decent at math. He's not like, Einstein or anything but he can tell you what 9 x 18 is which is more than I can do. This is definitely paradoxical because he is gay and should therefore not be able to do math.

- Favourite food is chicken pad Thai with peanut sauce and if you get some for him he will love you forever. Congratulations, you've acquired a creature. You're never getting rid of him.

- I honestly can't decide if he should be like, a *bajillion years old (*not actually more like 1000) or just, like, twenty. They're both hilarious in different situations and I cannot make up my mind.

- Purrs sometimes, but not like a cat. It just sounds like a guy trying to imitate a purr, which to be fair is a pretty apt description. It sounds silly until you realize he's still purring and he hasn't stopped to take a breath. You look over and notice that his chest is rising and falling steadily even as the noise rumbles out of his throat. He assures you it's just a talent of his.

- Riddled with anxiety just in general and because he has to frequently lie to and gaslight people to avoid outing himself, either as queer or as a monster from collective consciousness worst nightmares. Somebody get him to a psychiatrist.

- Can, will, and does need to eat regular people food, but consumes emotional energy as well. Does this passively when around people with no effects to them or can actively chose to take more via physical contact, effectively erasing thoughts, feelings, or in extreme cases entire memories. Can kill someone like this (because he's not just magically eating feelings, his presence is deteriorating cognitive function and his touch turns grey matter into soup) but he'd have a panic attack over it. Will very much throw up if he "eats" too much, but this only applies to the active taking rather than the passive "aoe" intake. Worth noting that he can't kill via touch or even just generally inconvenience someone with proximity in just a regular "human form" because it's specifically contact with the unfathomable eldritch stuff that melts people's brains into pudding.

- Big on physical affection. Hugs and other assorted touch are his love language. Very much not above faking falling asleep on someone's shoulder.

- Owns entirely too many shirts and like, two pairs of pants. That's an exaggeration but seriously, c'mon man. Buy some pants ffs.

- Probably works customer service for minimum wage but I find it way too funny to make him a stripper sooo-

- Likes plants but has zero green thumb. Compromises with plastic plants and various cacti, which he has surprisingly and much to his delight managed to keep alive.

- I know jack shit about zodiacs but I think he'd have a summer birthday. Idk why it's just the vibes.

- Actually enjoys shitty cheap beer for whatever reason. Further proof that he's insane <3

- Would bring a knife to a gun fight and win but he's cheating because he can cope with ridiculous amounts of damage. Ofc he's not going to walk off a gunshot, but he won't die, and adrenaline is a hell of a motivator until he eventually collapses and has to stagger off with his metaphorical tail between his legs to recover.

- Can't swim. He doesn't exactly sink because buoyancy and all that but he will panic and thrash around and just generally make his situation worse. Not in a comical way though he's not exaggerating he legitimately can't swim. Somebody get him out now before he drowns.

- Doesn't like water in general. Pretty scared of any body of water he can't see the bottom of, and doesn't like pools because agian, he can't swim. Might splash in a puddle or a kiddie pool or something but he mostly prefers just to sit off the the side and vibe. Stacks everyone's towels to make a cushion under him and jokingly refuses to give them back when they come out of the water sopping wet.

- Canonically has addictive personality disorder so do with that what you will

- "Dislikes" vegetables on principle but will eat broccoli. Will pretend like he's dying the entire time though, even though he actually likes it.

- Probably has the dumbest ringtone in the entire world. Either that or he just changes it every week. Maybe both.

- Paints his nails but it always flakes off within a day or two because he can't help but pick at it.

- Carries sunscreen around but not in a mom friend way. It's because he'll give you like seven different types of cancer if you hang around his "true form" too long and he doesn't want to take any risks. It doesn't really help but he's trying his best.

- Can sing decently will but will refuse to if directly asked because he's self conscious. Just take him to a karaoke bar though I guarantee he'll be up on stage in a matter of minutes.

- Can dance semi decently. Worth nothing that he can in fact belly dance though. Learned because he grew up seeing professionals at people's weddings and other big events and thought it looked really cool.

- Really likes trampoline parks but funnily enough despite being pretty agile usually he has absolutely no sense of balance while bouncing. Falls on his face every five seconds but rest assured he's having the time of his life in there.

- Pours the milk before the cereal. No real reason for this other than I like making him a menace to society

- Absolutely the kind of person to overuse the dog Snapchat filter

- Smells weirdly like fresh rain and ozone. And also the generic body wash he uses but still, under that all he smells like a thunderstorm. Pleasant enough at first but a little overwhelming up close or over long periods. Kissing him feels like licking the screen of an old TV, static buzz and a tiny bit frosty.

- Speaking of frosty, he runs cold. 100% will hog the blankets and or put cold extremities all over people in the middle of the night if they're cuddling. He doesn't mean to he's just chilly. What he does mean to do is stick his icy hands down the backs of people's shirts. Only does it to people he knows appreciate the humour though and will stop if asked.

- Has a pretty normal voice, though it has a small bit of unnatural reverb. Just enough that it's there but nearly impossible to place exactly what makes his words sound off. His "eldritch form", however, you do not want to listen to. Tries to be quiet but regardless of volume he'll still inadvertently blow someone's eardrums out because it sounds like he's a recording with all the distortion settings turned up to max. Well, not exactly, that's sort of an exaggeration, but his voice warbles unnervingly and his pitch is split so it sounds like three different people talking at once. Decent enough to listen to if you like horror ambiance noises, but otherwise invest in earplugs.

- Despite having eyes all over his body in that form they aren't really sensitive to pain, nor are they weak points. Stabbing them will only yield about the same reaction as stabbing him anywhere else, and they're no easier to puncture than his skin. Texture and consistency wise they feel almost like cow's eyes that have been preserved in formaldehyde (thanks, middle school biology class). As gross as it seems, gently stroking them will get him to purr. Don't worry about eye juices, they're weirdly dry and rubbery.

- Sometimes he forgets to blink. This is not because he doesn't have to blink, he very much does or his eyes get all scratchy, he's just a dork.

- Can cook average meals but pretty much only makes microwaveable stuff because he does not have his life together.

- Favourite fruit is strawberries, and consequently his favourite flavour ice cream, smoothie, milkshake, etc is all strawberry flavored as well. He's partial to mango too, though.

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wheelsup · 3 years

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kissing lessons

summary: one of your classic movie nights with spencer turns into a learning opportunity

A/N: this is really fluffy, but the whole story centers around kissing. use your own judgement! i’d say it’s at worst 16+

category: spencer reid x gn!reader, fluff (with a bit of spice) best friends to lovers (sorta)

warnings: just kissing, a brief implication at the end

word count: 3k

Occasionally, the team will spend an extra night in their hotel before heading home from a case. Be it due to poor weather conditions, or the fact that your case wrapped in the dead of night, the reasons for flying don’t ever matter. Because the majority of the times when you have to stay that extra night, you and Spencer have sleepovers.

The routine is pretty much the same. You’ll stock up on gas station snacks – sour peach rings for Spencer, salted microwave popcorn for you – and reconvene in one of your hotel rooms. Preferably, whichever of you got the better deal that week – a bigger tv, a room further away from the ice machine. And you’d rent the cheapest movie available on-demand, the options spanning from low-budget sci-fi to poorly written rom-coms. That night, the viewing fell under the latter category.

Spencer perched at the foot of your bed with both feet tucked under his legs, criss-cross style, while you laid against the headboard to watch. Every now and then, you tossed out your commentary and he’d ignore it. He always says you’re too critical of movies and you’re of the belief that he’s too forgiving.

“I don’t think they should end up together,” you mumbled, words slurring around your mouthful of popcorn. You pulled a face right as the movie approached the romantic climax, after spending the past ninety minutes actively rooting against the couple. Spencer ignored you, pretending to be engrossed in the movie to spite your disparagement of it. “They both suck.”

You groaned, slumped further against the pillows, and shoved your sock-clad toes under Spencer’s left thigh in a call for attention. He jumped at the intrusion, but ultimately, your efforts were futile.

And then the big kiss commenced, and your booing finally piqued his interest. “Gross! I feel bad for people who kiss like that.”

A small bell went off in his head and he took a curious glance at you over his shoulder.

“What do you mean?” he asked. He stopped chewing and the piece of candy in his mouth pushed out his cheek, giving him an adorably innocent look. His brows scrunched in the middle and his nose had a tiny crinkle in it, utterly confused.

You scoffed and matched his expression. “Are you serious?” You jerked your head in the direction of the television and Spencer whipped his head back, squinting. He couldn’t figure out what you were pointing out, what it was that was so obviously wrong to you. “Spencer, he’s swallowing her chin!”

Oh. He hadn’t noticed.

Feeling dumb, he muttered, “I thought that’s how you’re supposed to kiss…” It wasn’t the deepest confession to admit to you that he lacked some knowledge when it came to kissing, but he still refused to look at you as he said it.

“Spencer, please tell me you haven’t been kissing people like that.” You narrowed your eyes at the back of his head, sitting up straighter in bed. He shrugged and lowered his head, focusing on his snack as his fingers dug into the packet of gummy rings in his lap.

He popped another piece into his mouth, pretending to be occupied with eating so as to avoid your prying. “I dunno.”

It didn’t occur to you until that moment that Spencer might have learned everything he knows about kissing – among other things – solely through watching movies. How else could he look at that and think it’s normal? And you’re left wondering if he’s ever even practiced it with another living human. He clearly didn’t want to talk about it, but unfortunately, that only heightened your interest. You had to know.

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” You kept your voice low, your tone implying that you were ready to exchange this secret with him. You wouldn’t judge him if he admitted he hadn’t.

He scoffed loudly, and though you couldn’t see his face, you’re positive he rolled his eyes too. “Yeah, of course.” Then quietly, he added on, “But it was only like… for four seconds.”

You nodded thoughtfully, considering how this new piece of information adjusted your existing view of Spencer. For some reason, you couldn’t tell if you actually expected him to be experienced or not.

He didn’t exactly scream that he’d… gotten around, for lack of better words, but you’re still surprised to learn that he’s barely done it at all. You supposed he was objectively cute, that maybe you could see it if he weren’t your best friend. And yeah, he’s a little awkward, but he’s smart and kind, so he has three great things going for him, and you’re surprised more people haven’t swooped him up yet.

Your lips curled down in thought, brows raised in curiosity. “And was it good?” It was a genuine enough question, because you’ve never really thought about Spencer Reid and kissing in the same sentence before. As it turned out, there was a lot of missing information relating to those two things.

“I don’t know! I didn’t get, like, a feedback form,” he grunted, angling his shoulder even further away from you. If you could’ve seen him, you’d notice his face boiling and turning red with heat. All this inquiring made him think harder about his … talents … than he’s ever had to before, and he’s not a fan.

You were prepared to do some more digging when the slump in his back made you feel a tinge of guilt. It was your fault he looked so defeated. You pressed too hard, disregarding his boundaries just because you wanted to know more. And now, he was wondering if there was something wrong with him, because you wouldn’t leave it alone.

He barely noticed as you swung your feet from under his thigh and rocked onto your knees, leaning forward to nudge his shoulder with your palm. It hauled his attention out of his thoughts and back into the room. You wanted to apologize, but instead you settled with “I’m sure you’re fine, Spence.”

He nodded unconvincingly. By the glow of the screen, you could see he was still gnawing on the inside of his cheek, focusing his eyes as he played with a loose hangnail on one of his fingers. It made you feel even worse. “Are you actually worried about it?” you asked, laden with concern.

“What if I am bad at it?” He whispered, like saying it too loud would make it true. “And that’s why it’s only happened once?”

A large exhale puffed out of your nose as you weighed your options.

You could go back to your original plan and apologize for setting him down this path of doubt. But that wouldn’t do anything to stop him from worrying, anyway. You could tell him there’s no correlation between the way he kisses and how frequently it’s happened; that you’re sure the reason isn’t because he’s bad. But you don’t know that for sure.

So, fuck it, you thought, grabbing a fistful of his pajama shirt and tugging him closer to you roughly, pressing your lips onto his.

This way, you’d at least have an informed opinion to be able to tell him if he was good or bad.

His lips were softer than you expected – not that you’d thought about them often, they’re just impossibly softer than they look – and invitingly warm. But they were completely stiff.

You could tell he was trying to kiss you back by the way his mouth ferociously moved over yours. He was trying to be a passionate, engaged partner, but he forgot about the aspect of tenderness.

His lips felt like two solid objects just sliding around on your face. They didn’t move in any sort of accordance with yours. There was no push and pull, your lips didn’t mesh perfectly together to form a solitary unit as they moved in unison.

It felt more like his lips were your opponent, putting up an attack and defense play against the actions of your own.

You pulled away, resisting a giggle at his bewildered face. “You’re not so terrible,” you swipe the corner of your mouth, smudged with Spencer’s flavored chapstick, “But it could use some work.”

He was at a loss for words, mouth gaping open as his eyes darted around the room and all over you. Maybe he’d find an explanation for what just happened carved into the walls somewhere or written across your forehead.

What happened was that you kissed him. And he was a little bit bad. Simple as that.

“I-I wasn’t ready!” he stammered, chucking up his hands defensively. He’d process the fact that he’d just made out with his best friend at a later time, right now the bigger concern was the slight cringed look on your face. He sulked and folded his arms.“What was so bad about it?”

“Well,” you scratched the back of your ear, trying to gauge if he’d react well to getting some advice, “my first tip would be to relax your lips.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

“And don’t think too hard. You should react to what’s happening in the moment, not worrying about what your next move is gonna be.” You could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to envision what that would play out like in a real situation. “You wanna try again?” you offered, figuring he’d learn much faster if he was more hands-on about it.

He nodded, and you leaned in close, waiting for him to go for it. His heart quickened under the pressure of performance, eyes screwing shut as he closed the gap. His mouth smashed into yours as he dove in hard. It was toeing on the side of too harsh, but you let that one slide in hopes it was just a byproduct of his nerves.

You had to tap his knee to remind him to relax, and he loosened some of the tension he had in his lips. He slotted his between yours, allowing them to be pliable to your movements and remembering to react, not plan.

He moved his mouth leisurely against yours, trying to match your pressure and pacing. They actually started moving in time with yours at some point. The kiss took on a shape of its own as he started getting out of his head, letting himself enjoy the kiss for what it was in that exact moment.

It was already better than before. Leaps and bounds better. But then he tried to deepen it, building on its intensity but adding more… something into it. You couldn’t even tell what it was he was trying to do.

“Okay, second tip…” you inhaled sharply, pushing him off of you with a palm against his chest. Whatever it was, it needed to stop. “You kinda do this thing like… where you’re blowing air into my mouth?” You scrunched your nose, punctuating your dislike. “That feels weird. Don’t do that. If anything, do the opposite.”

“I’m supposed to suck the air out of your mouth?” His face contorted, voice already slightly exasperated. He barely understood what the air thing was that you claimed he did. He didn’t realize in the process of trying to add pressure to the kiss, he was just forcibly blowing against your mouth.

“Not literally, no.” You laughed a little, rubbing your palm in a comforting pattern on his chest.”But you can use your lips to suck on mine, or my tongue… just nothing involving the exchange of breath. We’re not in CPR training.”

He eased up a little with your joke, adjusting to your advice he gave it another try. After a few moments, he latched onto your bottom lip with his own, sucking it softly into his mouth. “Yeah, like that,” you mumbled against him, voice pitching high in encouragement. He sucked on it with a little more greed, holding it for a second, then eased up, varying the pressure of his movements just like you did before.

You made a mental note to praise him for that at a later time, deciding to instead part your lips to see if he’d venture into further experimentation.

He caught on quickly. He parted them further, prodding his tongue against them as you opened to allow him entry. Just as you started to really enjoy it, he ran his tongue over the inside of your mouth, moving it fast and roughly like he was a washing machine.

“Stop,” you grimaced, tearing away quickly. You had to swipe your hand over your mouth to get rid of the excess saliva that really shouldn’t have been an issue in the first place, given how brief the frenching was. “Your tongue is way too aggressive.”

Overwhelmed, he tilted his head to the ceiling and let out a frustrated grunt, slapping his hands down to the top of his thighs.

There were too many factors to worry about. He had no idea how you looked at him with a straight face and told him not to think too much when there were a million things he needed to remember all at once; he needed to vary his moves to keep it interesting, but make sure he’s not ruining the flow by changing things up too much, and to be gentle but not timid.

All of this was second nature to you, but it was brand new to Spencer. Could you really blame him for not getting the hang of it right away? You decided to stop your list of critiques short for this round to spare him. He’d get there eventually, but not if he felt discouraged too soon.

“I don’t see why people like it in the first place,” he huffed, his head returning to it’s normal posture. In Spencer’s eyes, there truly wasn’t any appeal to kissing with tongue; it looked sloppy and unnecessary, and as you’d just confirmed, it actually was.

You thought about his statement for a second. There’s a certain allure to it, and you didn’t know how to describe it to him. So instead you cupped his cheeks in both your palms and slid your mouth over his again. As his jaw slacked its tension, you slowly pushed your tongue past his lips and gently pressed it against his own before swirling them together.

You sighed softly into his mouth, running your fingers through his hair and tugging carefully at the ends. He made a small noise against you, something like a whimper, and you swallowed the vibrations of it. As you retreated, you captured his bottom lip between your teeth and gave it a light, teasing tug. You soothed it again with your lips before releasing it, a proud giggle forming in your chest as Spencer chased after your lips as you broke apart.

“That’s why.” You smirked at the dazed look on his face. His eyelids remained closed longer than necessary, still feeling the ghost of your mouth on his and a tingle where your fingers were in his hair.

“Oh.” His voice came out meek as he slowly came back to reality, brows wrinkling up his forehead as he opened his eyes.

He put both his palms down on the mattress, one laying flat on either side of you, and dove forward to resume the kiss right where you left it. A surprised squeak left you as his mouth collided with yours with an insatiable hunger. You brought one hand back to his hair, and he was a goner.

He unfolded his legs from under himself and shuffled onto his knees, following his hands until he practically crawled into your lap. Each of his legs hooked onto either side of your thighs as he hovered over your lap, leaning his body entirely into yours.

The physics of it didn’t hold up; he’s taller than you are, and his chest was too heavy for you to carry. The balance was off center and it sent you tumbling back onto the mattress, bringing him down with you until his chest laid on yours.

It was the perfect force – the weight of him on top of you. He tasted like peach candy and sour sugar, and you found yourself craving more of it.

You shuffled higher up the mattress, giving him space to stretch out his body as he followed yours. One of his hands found your waist, gripping tightly, while he placed the other on the mattress beside your head, using it to steady himself. Sliding your legs out from under him, you wrapped them on the outside of his hips, using them to pull him closer down to you.

It only broke off in moments when both of you absolutely needed to get air, gasping as you pulled apart for brief reprieve before colliding again. He followed every word of your advice, getting better with each passing second until he exceeded expectations by leaps and bounds.

Your fingers weaved through his hair, passionately tugging the wavy strands to angle him against you and igniting his nerves under your touch. A soft moan leaves him and you’re encouraged to tighten your grip on them. His hips bucked reactively at the sensation, and he quickly pulled back, a slight embarrassment creeping up his cheeks. He got too carried away.

You took in his flushed face and swollen, kiss-bruised lips. They’d turned a shade of red brighter than you’ve ever seen them, and it was all you could do not to dive for them again as his tongue sweeped over them, soothing the burning heat you’d left on them.

Before he could apologize for his eagerness, you nudged your nose against his, your smile skimming against his lips. “So what else don’t you know how to do?”

☆

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noyaism · 3 years

Text

No Manners

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: enemies/rivals to lovers, public sex, hate sex, heavy degrading, edging, choking, overstim, teasing, size kink, power dynamics, sir!Tsukki, dacryphilia, humiliation, spanking, slapping, exhibitionism, sadism, masochism, dumbification, creampie, this shit is pure filth (let me know if I missed any warnings!)

Song Inspo: No Manners - Superm

If there was anything you prided yourself on, it was being the smartest person in any given room you walked into. School had always come so easily to you, no subject too hard, no concept you wouldn't understand. That was, until you got to college. University was a beast unto its own, and it showed you that maybe the genius you had always believed you possessed could indeed be threatened.

While you found yourself at the top at almost every single class you took, your economics class was your Achilles heel. It irked you how the information just didn’t seem to mesh with you. It made you feel so inferior, and that wasn’t something you were used to. It also wasn’t something Tsukishima Kei was used to, however, thanks to you he was feeling a new sense of inferiority that was completely foreign to him. He, like you, was used to being at the top of his class, nobody coming close to him academically. Then, he got to university, and unfortunately for him you two shared a major, and took the exact same classes. It was odd enough in the first semester, and when it ended he was so glad to finally get away from you, and to regain his status.

Then the second semester came and once again, you both signed up for the exact same classes. This time was different, though, because finally, Tsukishima held something over you; you couldn’t understand economics to save your life, and it came to Tsukishima as easily as everything else did.

Understandably, the two of you had developed a bit of a rivalry. It would come around every so often that Tsukki did better than you on a test, scored higher in a lab, and it drove you insane how he would rub it in, so when you did better than him, you did the same. The two of you were starting to hate each other’s guts. However, you were on the verge of failing your economics class, and there wasn’t going to be anyone better to help you study than Tsukishima. When you asked him to help you study he straight up laughed in your face, entertained by the fact you were actually coming to him for help. It was such a stroke to his ego, he couldn’t possibly say no.

You two scheduled a study session for the following Friday evening. You met in one of the study rooms up on the third floor around five, intending to stay for a couple hours. Tsukishima had arrived a little early, as you walked in you saw him with his notebook and laptop out on the table, writing down some notes. You took a seat next to him, getting yourself ready to begin. As he attempted to explain all these concepts to you; rambling on about monopolies and price ceilings and deficits, none of it was clicking. You asked him to explain things time and time again, and he was getting visibly irritated the more you seemed to not be getting things.

“You agreed to help me study, Tsukishima. You can't go on and complain now that I don’t get it, you knew I didn't.”

“Yeah, I got that part, but I wasn’t expecting you to be this utterly dense.”

You folded your arms across your chest, letting out a small huff under your breath.

“You're such a dick.” You muttered, not thinking much of the remark. It was an unequivocal fact that anyone who ever came in contact with him had to know, which you yourself already knew quite well, but you hadn't expected him to be this bad personally. You thought since you were undoubtedly better at him in any other subject you would at least be spared of his ill mannered remarks, but it seemed to be the opposite; he'd get on you because you were so much better at him in everything else. It was the one thing he held over you, and he was going to make the absolute most of it.

“What did you call me?” He asked, snapping his head in your direction.

“I called you a dick, because you are. I get it, okay? I don’t understand the material, it’s above my intelligence level, I’m the dumbest bitch in the world. Cool, fine, awesome. If tutoring me is that much of a pain I’ll just go, alright? Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Utterly fed up, you tossed all of your things into your backpack and got up from your seat, starting to storm away. Tsukishima watched you as you went for the door, only momentarily, before getting up and following behind you. You barely got the door unlocked and open before a forceful push of a hand from above shut it, and you turned and looked up at the man, confused as to what it was he was doing.

“We aren’t done studying.”

“Yes we are. I can’t take your shit anymore, I’m done.”

“No, we’re gonna stay here and work on this until you get it,” He lowered himself down to make more direct eye contact with you.

“Got me?” He finished, once the two of you were level. You let out a chuckle, shaking your head a bit. This situation was unbelievable, and he was totally impossible. You weren’t sure how much clearer you could possibly get, but you had no problem reiterating yourself.

“No, I don’t. Makes sense that I don’t, right? ‘Cuz I’m ‘utterly dense’, as you said.”

“And incredibly mouthy, apparently.”

“Only when dealing with assholes like you.” Tsukishima let out a chuckle of his own after that line, straightening himself up and looking down on you once again. You hated when he did that, but it wasn’t like he had much choice, he towered over your much smaller frame. It personified your current situation almost too well.

“You know, someone should put little girls like you in their place.” He fairly quickly retorted.

“And someone should knock tall elitists like you down a peg.” You scoffed.

“I’d love to see you try.” Tsukishima took a couple steps back from you after speaking, as if to quite literally challenge you to do something. You weren’t a violent person to say the least, but at that moment you would’ve paid good money to punch the man before you in the face, and it seemed you were going to get the opportunity for free. How could you possibly pass that up?

You dropped your backpack onto the floor, lurching forward at Tsukishima before it even hit the floor. To your utter surprise he caught you before you got too close, his hand wrapped around your neck. It was nowhere near a tight grip, but it left you breathless, and forced you to look up at the blonde. There was this smirk on his face, like you had done exactly what he wanted you to, like he now had you in the palm of his hand. The look in his eye was so devilish, nobody had ever looked at you like that. You almost didn’t know what to make of it, almost.

“Now now, dumb little whores like you don’t get to touch me.” The pure filth that fell from his lips confirmed exactly what you rationalized from his gaze. It was all you needed.

“Fuck me, now.”

Tsukishima needed no further instruction, moving his hand off your throat and down to your thigh, pulling your leg up and prompting you to wrap yourself around him. He caught you midway through your small jump, and in an instant your lips crashed together. You couldn’t shake just how angry he made you, and he couldn’t shake how sexy you looked when you were mad. That little body of yours held so much aggression in it, and since he was more than willing to let out the beast in you, Tsukki was just as willing to tame it.

In fact, he would take great pleasure in doing so.

Tsukki walked back over to the table you two were sat at, placing you down onto the cold, manicured wood. The exchange of your lips was filled to the brim in the most carnal, lustful intent. The two of you fought for dominance with it, neither of you having even the slightest intention of backing down. Tsukishima was already more than frustrated with you, and your attempts to gain control of the situation weren't helping.

With a swift move he pulled away from the kiss and brought a hand around your neck once again, this time giving it a fairly decent grip. His face looked so calm, like this was nothing he hadn't done before, but his actions told a completely different story. How he managed to keep his expression so composed while taking full control of you made a shiver run down your spine, and the heat between your thighs grow exponentially.

“Listen; I’m the one in charge here, y/n. What makes you think a tiny, powerless slut like you could ever even attempt to control someone so much bigger, so much stronger than them, hm?”

“I-I dunno…” You stuttered out, much to Tsukishima’s liking.

“You don’t know, that's exactly what I thought. Well then, let me teach you where your place is.” While his left hand maintained its place around your throat, his right hand snaked up your thigh and under your skirt, his fingers ghosting over your clothed sex. The faint contact made you whine, you couldn't stand how badly you needed him to touch you. Your eyes pleaded for him to do something, and he basked in the glory of making you so weak so quickly. He then obliged, rubbing small, slow circles onto your clit.

“Your place is right here; being dominated by me. You will feel pleasure only when I allow you to. You will cum only when I allow you to. You will be obedient, and you’ll love every second of it. Am I understood?”

You nodded your head with what free range of motion you had, your hips bucking in the direction of his fingers, trying to gain more pleasure in the only way you currently could.

“Use your words, and address me only as sir.” He instructed, moving his fingers away from you. It was bad enough his moves were teasing at best, but denying you of any contact completely was infinitely worse.

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

Tsukishima let go of your throat, using both hands to undress you, leaving you in nothing but your panties, which were horribly stained with your eagerness. It stroked his ego immensely, looking at the girl who plagued his mind, who made him feel so inferior so many times, naked in front of him, so ready to be ravaged by him. So exposed, so pathetic, but so undeniably sexy.

He pulled up a chair, taking a seat in between your legs. His fingers danced over the skin of your inner thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You felt so needy all you could do was whine, not a single beg or plead coming from you. He hooked a finger onto the side of your panties, pulling them over to get a good look at you. Your pussy glistened under the fluorescent lights, coated in wetness you had never experienced before. It was like a work of art for Tsukki, who took a minute to admire the piece before he pulled your underwear off of you entirely.

He took his left thumb and ran it down the length of your sex, dipping between your folds before coming back up to your clit, finally starting to please you again. A moan slipped from between your lips, filling the quiet of the room. Tsukishima brought two fingers from his opposite hand up to your lips, and without needing instruction you allowed them entry. Your tongue swirled around his digits, a slight hum ringing from your throat as your oral fixation was satisfied.

His fingers left your mouth with a small pop, and they were brought down to your core. They prodded at your entrance, teasing you by the anticipation of entry. You wanted it, wanted it so bad it was much more a need, and at that point you weren’t too proud to beg for it. Just as your lips parted Tsukishima pushed them into you, a whine coming from you instead. You fell back onto the table, your back arching off the wood as his fingers worked wonders unknown on you. With an upward curl he brushed up against your g-spot, your hips bucking upward in response. The pads of his fingers massaged the rough patch of flesh momentarily, making your legs shake as helpless little curses fell from your lips.

As he began pumping his fingers again he also sped up the rate at which his thumb circled your clit, and it became quite clear to Tsukki that your orgasm was approaching, and was doing so fast. You could feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter, it was almost unbearable. You heard his voice say something, but your head was spinning you could barely make it out.

“Answer me, slut. I’m not repeating myself.” Was all you could make out, but considering you didn’t know the question, it was an impossible feat. Just as your orgasm was about to arrive Tsukishima removed his fingers from you, his thumb ceased all movement, and you were left with a ruined orgasm and your hips bucking into the air.

“You’re not cumming until you can answer one of my questions correctly. That should be good enough incentive for a stupid, needy little bitch like you, right?” You propped yourself up on your arms, looking at Tsukishima in utter bewilderment. You couldn’t believe what he was saying, or that he was going to make you answer questions in order to cum, but you had to admit he wasn’t wrong. It was a pretty good incentive.

“Y-yes sir.”

With a quick smirk Tsukki sank his head down between your thighs, his tongue dipping into your pussy, savoring your delectably sweet taste. His his hands held the backs of your thighs, giving himself unrestricted access to your sex. His tongue flicked over your clit every so often before lapping up your juices again, until he finally gave the bud uninterrupted attention. His lips latched around it, starting to suck as his fingers entered you once more. Your back arched sharply, and your hands moved to tangle into his hair, tugging on the blonde strands. Before you could even process what it was you had done, Tsukishima was hovering above you, slapping your cheek before taking a rough hold of your chin.

“I told you not to touch me, did I not?” You nodded your head frantically,

“You d-did, sir. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you will be. Off the table.”

You followed your instructions, and as soon as your feet hit the ground Tsukishima pulled you onto your knees, and held your chin in his hand once again, forcing you to look up at him.

“I don't think I need to tell you what to do here, do I?” You shook your head lightly, your eyes full of wonder as you looked at him.

“No, sir.”

“Good, then show me that you're actually good at something.”

You shimmied in between Tsukishima’s legs, frantic hands fiddling with his belt as you tried to get his pants off as quickly as possible. You didn't know what was causing you to be so eager, but something in you urged you to act as quickly as possible. As you pulled his pants and boxers down his erection sprang free, the pure size of him catching you off guard. You were no inexperienced woman, this wasn't your first time seeing a penis, but you had yet to deal with anyone of his size. It was a bit intimidating, if you were to be completely honest.

As you were told, you weren't allowed to actually touch him. You presumed if you used your hands at all it wasn't going to end well for you, but to that you could fairly easily oldige. You licked a long stripe from the base of his length up to his tip, your tongue pressing along a vein that ran that same course. You circled his tip before sucking on it, letting out a satisfied moan around him as his precum leaked out onto your tastebuds.

You started to take him further into your mouth, each bob of your head adding another inch until you had all of him. Your eyes watered as you felt him in the back of your throat, and you gasped as you came up for air. Tsukishima looked down at you, smirking as he saw a tear run down your cheek.

“You should do more of that.”

“More of what?” You asked, tilting your head in confusion.

“Crying for me.”

Tsukki took hold of your hair, forcing his cock into your mouth and once again making you take the entirety of him. He held you there, letting out a groan as you choked around him. He brought you up for air and marveled at the tears running down your face, and the desperate look in your eyes. It was art for him and him alone to scrutinize, and he was most certainly a fan of the piece. Before you could fully focus your attention he was in your mouth again, his hips pushing up off the chair as he fucked your face. You gagged around his length, the sounds remarkably gratifying for Tsukishima to hear.

He brought you back up for air one final time, holding your head up so the two of you made eye contact. He chuckled at you, admiring your current state. Spit dribbled from the sides of your mouth, tears spilled out of your eyes, and you were perilously trying to catch your breath.

“Messy little girl. You're looking more and more like the stupid little slut I've always known you are. Cmon, say it for me, tell me you're a stupid little slut.”

As if his words weren't degrading enough, this request was surely the icing on the cake, the cherry on top of the sundae. He had you exactly where he wanted you, powerless and obedient. Just a small little toy for him to play with how he pleased. He wasn't satisfied with your lack of obedience, and slapped your cheek once again, roughly grabbing your face after.

“I wasn't giving you an option. Say it.” He demanded.

“I-I’m a stupid little slut.” You complied, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I can't fucking hear you.”

“I’m a stupid little slut!” You repeated, much louder this time. Tsukishima let out a satisfied chuckle, nodding his head.

“That's right, and who's stupid little slut are you?”

“Y-your stupid little slut, sir.”

“That’s right.”

Tsukishima pulled you up off the floor, laying you out on the table. He pulled his shirt off, your eyes combing over every little detail of him. You knew on top of being a student he played volleyball, so he had to be fairly muscular, but you weren't expecting what you got. He had a body even Odysseus would be jealous of, making you the ever loyal Penelope.

Tsukki lubed himself up with your wetness, as you were far from falling short of it. No man was ever this rough with you, ever this dominant. It turned you on more than you would like to admit, but there was no need to with Tsukishima. He could tell from the look in your eyes, the tone of your voice, the way your hips slightly bucked as you sucked him off.

Without warning his tip began to prod at your entrance before starting to slip in. It was no easy feat, though. You were incredibly tight, and even then you hadn't taken anything even close to Tsukishima’s size. He took things slow, watching as every inch of him stretched you further. You whimpered at the sensation, it was intoxicating beyond what your words could even describe. A groan slipped between his lips as he bottomed out, light curses following it. The way you tightened around him made it so hard for him to control himself, but he knew you needed a moment, and he wasn't trying to hurt you.

Not at the moment, at least.

You nodded your head lightly as you felt adjusted, giving him free reign over your body once again. Tsukki grabbed your hands, pinning them above your head before he began to move. He slowly started to pull out, and with a sudden snap you were once again taking all of him, a soft scream coming from you. He did this a couple times, watching how your body jolted. Feeling how your thighs tensed up next to him. Each of these thrusts hit your cervix, sending you reeling each time.

He picked up the pace, starting to pound into you at a relentless pace. You wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping him close and forcing him to go as deep in you as possible. Tsukishima brought one of his hands down to wrap around your neck, the other still holding your wrists in place. He gave the sides of your neck a squeeze, the lack of circulation rushing toward you just as he hit you with a particularly hard thrust. A light scream fell from your lips, the pleasure in that moment so crazily overwhelming. This routine continued; harder thrusts while he actively choked you, very slightly less hard ones as he gave you a moment to breathe correctly, all the while denying you of your high.

“You better not cum, slut.” He warned as he felt you once again starting to get just a bit too tight around him.

“W-wanna cum....so bad.” You weakly replied, tears welling in your eyes as you spoke. Once again, just as you were on the precipice of release, Tsukishima denied you again, pulling out and leaving you empty. Tears fell from your eyes as you uselessly whimpered and protested, all of it only earning you another slap to your cheek.

“Really thought I’d let you, huh? Dumb little bitch.” He said as he turned you over onto your stomach. He filled you up again, but before he moved any further he began raining spank after spank onto your ass. You could only assume it was punishment, but it felt far from it. The pain was nothing but masochistic pleasure for you, and sadistic pleasure for him. Each stung more than the last, and thus each felt even better than the last.

Your senses were so overloaded as he started to thrust into you again that your brain had turned to utter mush. Coherent thought was so far behind you it was like it was never something you could’ve done in the first place. The only thing you could process was pleasure, and to enhance it you lifted one of your legs back up onto the table, the other continuing to stay hanging over to keep yourself up. This new angle let Tsukishima hit sinfully deep in you once again, adding to the utter brainrot you were experiencing. Words no longer were an option for you, only whines and whimpers, a stray profanity at the very best.

Tsukishima grabbed a fistful of your hair, picking your head up off the table. He made you look in the direction of the door, bending down to speak into your ear.

“Look, you left the door unlocked. Someone could come in at any moment and watch you getting fucked like the little whore you are. But I’m sure you'd like it if someone saw us, wouldn't you?”

You couldn't bring yourself to form any sort of coherent response, and Tsukki very well knew that. He chuckled at your attempt to reply, which was just a rhythmic whine as if you were trying to get some words out.

“You're not very quiet, either. Stupid sluts like you like having everyone know how good they feel, don't they? I’m sure someone's come by to spy in, hearing how utterly pathetic you sound.”

His words only made you whine and whimper more, your head in an absolute daze from the sheer amount of pleasure you felt. Tsukki let go of your hair and your head fell down, and you got a good look at yourself in the mirrored wood table. Your mouth was hanging open, your hair a tangled mess and drool slipping from the corner of your parted lips. He had fucked you so past dumb you didn't even know you could be this far gone, and all the while you still had no clue if you would be allowed to cum.

Your hips pushed back against his, meeting every one of his thrusts and forcing him deeper. Each time he re-entered his tip made quick contact with your cervix, the repeated feeling driving you absolutely crazy. Your eyes rolled back as you let yourself fall onto the wood once again. You took everything he gave you, all the while holding your orgasm back. Each time he felt you were a little too close he pulled out, you couldn't even count how many times you'd been denied release, you were sure the number was shameful. You could tell this was getting harder on Tsukishima as well, the twitching and pulsating of his cock inside you letting you know he was having trouble holding back as well.

You saw no use in begging at this point, and you couldn't have mustered the words for it even if you wanted to. You simply whined and whimpered with every thrust, your body jolting forward each time. Tsukki held on tight to your hips, keeping you in place as he pounded mercilessly into you. In your daze all your senses had dulled, but you could hear just enough for Tsukishima's next four words to be heard, almost as clear as day.

“Cum. Do it now.”

In an instant you finally let yourself topple over the edge. Your voice was so hoarse you couldn't scream, rather you let out something between an incredibly loud moan and a whimper, your back arching and your legs shaking vigorously. Tears spilled from your eyes as your body was overrun by an orgasm unlike any other you had experienced. The feeling was only intensified by Tsukishima cumming inside you, depositing a sizable load inside of you. Your vision was blurry and a little white around the edges, and your chest heaved as you let out shallow breaths. Soreness set into your body as you took time to regain yourself, almost ten minutes passing before either of you even thought to move.

Tsukki pulled out of you slowly, admiring how fucked out you looked, your small body sprawled out on the table. He figured moving would be hard for you, so he gently let your leg down and peeled you off the table, sitting down in the chair behind him and sitting you on his lap. Your head fell on his shoulder, your eyes still a little glazed over, but for the most part it seemed you had come to.

“Are you feeling okay?” You nodded your head lightly, your breath finally leveling out. Your throat was pretty scratchy, and you knew your voice would be raspy, so you just didn't bother speaking yet.

“What have you learned today, then?”

“A good couple things.” You croaked out, wiping a stray tear from your cheek.

“Oh really? Enlighten me.”

“Well, I learned that economics is just something I'm never really going to understand. I also learned that you are a complete and utter asshole, even worse than I thought. Finally, I learned that you are a way more experienced man than I thought you were, and maybe I don't hate you as much as I was letting on.”

Tsukishima laughed out lightly, giving you a bit of an approving nod.

“Good, I’m glad I at least taught you something. Maybe not what I originally intended, but learning is learning. I think with a couple more study sessions you’ll start to understand the econ material, though.”

You didn't say this out loud, but the thought of getting to spend some more alone time with Tsukishima actually wasn't the most terrible thought in the world. It seemed clear enough to you that the resentment between you two was clearly something much, much different than that, and so you were open to the thought of exploring what it actually was. Maybe not in as much of an erotic way as you just had next time. Not that you would've minded if it escalated to that point.

Although, you thought, if Tsukki was going to fuck you like that every time, brainrot from class material was going to be the least of your worries.

The both of you made yourselves presentable again, packing up all your belongings and leaving the room clean before walking out, which you did fairly slowly due to how sore your legs were. You both walked through the library, which was overwhelmingly empty besides a few staff members working hard at hardly working. It was to be expected; it was a Friday night and you were the only two in the world who'd pick studying over any other activity. You stopped just outside the entrance, turning to your side and giving Tsukishima a wave.

“I guess I’ll catch you later then, Tsukishima.”

“Oh, so no thank you for helping you study? I guess the one thing I didn't teach you was manners, huh y/n?” You chuckled at his comment, shaking your head a bit.

“Guess you didn’t. It’ll have to wait until next time.” You turned on your heel and started in the direction of the train. Before you could get far Tsukki grabbed your arm and pulled you back over to him, holding your chin so softly with his other hand, the action so outrageously condescending.

“Oh no, I’ll gladly teach you right now.”

#tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #tsukishima smut #tsukishima #hq x you #hq tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima oneshot #haikyuu!!

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erefics · 3 years

Text

afterglow by erefics

synopsis: reader has had a rough day of first classes, and comes home in tears to a supportive eren. now, his only purpose is to make you feel better in any way he can.

content warnings: female bodied reader, corruption, daddy kink, daddy!eren, major praise kink, breeding, use of the pet name puppy but no pet kink

word count: 1.7k

*all characters are aged up and in college*!

your eyes had been swollen and puffy as your feet shuffled across the hallway back to your shared apartment with boyfriend eren. they dragged across the tile, making it evident you’d been tiresome and overpowered from the harsh and cruel school day.

not only were your classes harder than you expected, but the other students were relentlessly mean all day to you. they hadn’t given you a break the entirety of the day, teasing you and making you run to the bathroom stall in order to dry the tears falling down your perfect pink cheeks.

thankfully, eren had always been there for you when you came home from school. he got out of his last period before you, which was a perfect way to be greeted in the living room by him after dealing with the harsh reality of college.

“what’s wrong, doll?” he immediately noticed the poor little grimace on your face, which you tried so desperately to hide. it wasn’t because you didn’t want to tell him what happened per say, it was just the fact that you struggled opening up about your feelings. you were so sensitive, so easily broken. he knew that. and he knew when something was most definitely wrong with his puppy.

“what—‘m okay, eren,” you lied bashfully, covering your reddened cheeks with your hand, but your palm was too small to conceal the tears.

he clicked his tongue, shaking his head slowly. it didn’t take him long to catch on, and he moved your hand off of your face by force, pinning it down to your side.

“what did i tell you about hiding your feelings from me, princess?” his voice deepened.

you looked up at him rather slowly, it took you a moment to make full eye contact because you’d been stalling from that for so long now. he was quite intimidating when looking at you so directly.

“i…’m not hiding anything,” you continued to lie, surprising even yourself by the amount of perseverance you were showing.

his grip on your wrist only grew tighter, which started to startle you a bit.

“speak up for daddy, dollface. i’m not gonna bite you for talking about your feelings,” eren raised his bushy eyebrows, even puckering his lips into a very tempting pout. that was all you needed to spill out your feelings to him.

“well, my day just wasn’t the best…’started with chemistry, got asked to leave because i hadn’t been prepared, apparently you have to ‘bring your own goggles’. shouldnt that be included in the tuition? and my mathematics professor is a total dick. but don’t get me started on the girls who’d been teasing me all day…calling’ me names and stuff, talking behind my back and already starting rumors. then on the way home from the campus i tripped on an empty soda can and was pretty much out of breath and started crying and—“

“y/n!” eren interrupted your ramble, soothing your pulsing heartbeat with a hand on your chest. his fingers stroked the side of your jaw softly, wiping the excess tears that hadn’t yet dried, or fallen to the floor. “‘s okay, i’m here now,” he brought you into an embrace, finally, ridding you of all sadness. “what kind of assholes would say anything like that about my precious puppy?” he removed his hands from your back, keeping the same eye contact from before.

“dunno. ‘don’t even wanna go back tomorrow,” you sighed, plopping down onto the sofa next to eren, crossing your arms as if throwing a hissy fit.

“well you’re here for now, angel. you’re safe. and in my comfort. i’m here to always make you feel the best you possibly can,” eren followed you, sitting on the sofa and grabbing you by the hips and placing you on his lap, your back facing his stomach. his hand traced lightly down the side of your neck, humming to himself ever so quietly. you could barely even hear, but it was faint enough. “daddy won’t let anybody make you feel like that again,” he hummed, his hand rimming the silhouette of your shoulder, moving its way down your arm softly, giving yourself chills.

you giggled a bit at the soft ticklish feeling of his hand trailing down your clean and untainted skin.

“shhh, puppy. let me make you forget that bad day, yeah?”

you jolted in his lap a bit as his hand made its way across your lap, gripping the fat of your thigh and squeezing it until your aching core felt the effects of it. “y–yes, daddy,” you nodded, starting to let yourself enjoy his strokes of love, eyes even closing through instinct. you simply let go while he took over the controls of your body.

“such a pretty body. do you know that, y/n? that you have such a delicate, fucking untouchable body. it’s too bad i’m gonna touch it, then. gonna touch it real good.” eren nodded to himself, his hand gripping your cunt through your skirt, almost as if he was taking a handful of you. the fact you’d been fully clothed still yet you felt so fucking wonderful as the pressure exceeded against your clit–was magical.

“yes, yes! real good, daddy,” you blurted out, back arching against his lap.

“mhm, i know, i know, shhh.” his fingers uncovered your panties by pushing the pleated skirt above his hand, towards your torso. the fabric was so thin and mesh, you could see everything through the undies. eren had taken one swipe of his finger down your slit, and that was enough to know how wet you’d been. “fuck, fuck. you’re gushing, pup. how fucking pretty is that?” he mumbled, holding up his finger with your juices coated on it, dripping down the digit.

“‘already so wet, ‘m sorry. you know ‘m sensitive, daddy. can’t handle the things you say,” you beg for his sympathy.

“course you can sweetheart. you can, and you will handle me,” eren kissed the gap between your neck and shoulder, simultaneously pushing your panties aside to begin rubbing through your slick cunt. “oh, oh yeah…i love how that feels, princess.”

his fingers moved like light work against your clit, using muscle memory from your previous encounters together because he’d already known the things you liked. soft and slow we’re the two key words. “being so good for me. letting daddy touch you how he pleases, hm? that’s my good girl. such a pretty cunt. feels so good i bet. you have to tell me. tell me how it feels, okay?”

“ ‘feels good!! eren, eren, please. can you go a little faster?” you’d asked him, struggling through your words. eren didn’t even respond before picking up the speed of his fingers on your clit. he’d been waiting for the signal to go faster forever. he’d ached for ages to move from slow to fast and soft to rough. but he only wanted to do the things you were comfortable with. “oh!! fuck, ‘s feeling good eren!”

“just like this? i knew you’d like that, puppy,” he smirked into your shoulder as you squirmed around in his lap, moving your hips with your own mighty power to add extra pressure to your clit, along with his fingers already rocketing inside you.

“‘m so close!!” you cried.

“i thought so, hm. of course i wanna let you cum. but i think it’d be more enjoyable if you did so with this pretty little cunt wrapped around my cock?”

“yes, yes!! yes, ‘m so desperate to feel myself on your cock, daddy. ‘s too much, want more though”

he chuckled, using his other hand to unbuckled himself underneath you, proving to be rather good at doing two things at once. touching you and unbuckling.

within seconds, he aligned himself with your leaking cunt, putting pressure with his tip on your clit first, which matter of fact had been throbbing and pulsating, waiting to be overstimulated to the point of climax.

“eren!! oh!!” you cried out, body bending over forward like jello as his tip just satisfied you a bit too much as it pressed against your cunt. “put it in please!! put it in!”

“so impatient, hm. remember i’m doing this because you had a bad day.” he spoke, and mid sentence, he pushed his length slowly inside your walls. “and this is special treatment,” he finished, pushing himself in all the way to the hilt.

eren kept himself aligned while inside of you, somewhat still aside from your occasional squirming giving stimulation to his length.

he placed soft kisses against the back of your neck, lifting hair out of the way first, letting you adjust to his size for a few moments before finally starting to add movement, going steady enough to just give you relief to breathe out.

“daddy!!” you leaned back against him, hands reaching for anything to grab as you started moving vertically against his cock, that pretty, tiny body rocking up and down to feel good.

“daddy loves you,” he murmured softly into her ear as he added more frequent thrusts into her hole, moving her entire body up a few inches off the sofa which proved how intense his power was. “you know daddy loves you, right, pup?”

“mhm, yes! d-daddy loves me,” you repeated after him.

it only took a few moments more before you’d been too stimulated and you released yourself while he’d been inside you. the noises you made were so pretty and loud once you finished, it had signaled eren to cum with you. there was no warning or hesitation, he simply emptied himself inside your little pretty cunt, his load leaking out of you and onto both of your thighs, causing a rather evident mess.

“feel okay, my dear?” he spoke softly, squeezing your body tight against his chest. you nodded, rocking whatever energy you had left against his cock even after finishing, proving you still had some left in you.

“now i’m gonna need you to tell me every name of every student that hurt your feelings today.”

#eren jaeger #eren smut #eren jaeger x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #aot smut #eren x reader #attack on titan eren #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren jeager headcanons #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger smut

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 2 years

Note

I'm kinda lowkey mad that I go into the tag after two years of leaving the fandom to see somone calling Aasim names and shit, and it makes me mad that people treat him like all he is is dick. Grow the fuck up.

whaaaaa? Aasim? Why are we callin' Aasim names? What'd he do?

I love Aasim, he's great. A little grumpy sometimes, but he's an intelligent dude who gets shit done and wanted things to change around Ericson for the better.

Like.... I guess I can see people getting annoyed with him because he and Louis don't see eye to eye on certain things, and he does call him an idiot a couple times which isn't great, I don't like that. Y'all know that Louis is my favorite, I will always defend my boy, but like.... I'm not gonna sit here and call Aasim an asshole for getting frustrated with Louis. That's kinda the point of Louis' arc as a start to grow from- he's slacks on duties and isn't super reliable in the beginning, and that doesn't mesh well with Aasim.

But Aasim cares about him. It's not like he thinks Louis is a piece of shit or doesn't care if he gets captured during the raid which then leads to him getting his tongue cut out. Hell, as soon as the door was open, Aasim booked it into the other cell to get Louis outta there. He shows more concern and care for Louis than certain others and I'm not gonna look at all that like "yeah but he called Louis an idiot that one time soooooo Aasim sucks."

Also, Louis isn't innocent either sksksks. Aasim goes off about not wanting to starve and Louis is just all, "blah blah, so dramatic, he's not usually this lame."

They act like a couple of teens who have lived together for years who get on each other's nerves, and that's not a bad thing?

And there's the whole thing with Willy, which again..... Aasim, like everyone else, is on edge because raiders are coming to kidnap and/or murder them. He's trying to set up traps in the school and Willy comes in with a ridiculous log plan that is gonna be hell of a project to set up. Willy's intentions are good, he wants to help, but I assume Aasim already had plans to go the rock bags thing he wanted to set up, so they got into an argument. Aasim gets pissy, says a bunch of mean shit, and Willy punches him for it. Which yeah... what did you expect Aasim?

But Aasim realizes he was being an ass. He doesn't pout and whine that he wasn't in the wrong, he doesn't insist that Willy is a little shit. Even if you choose the log plan, Aasim will go up to Willy and offer to help in a pretty sweet way, and when Willy apologies for punching him, Aasim compliments the punch. So like.... they're good, they're okay. They're laughing and chasing each other at the end of ep4, and I think it's safe to assume that Aasim'll take on a more big brother role for Willy now that Mitch is gone.

I dunno, I guess for me I have other characters that I have more problems with due to repeated behaviors that I don't like/disagree with that I'm able to forgive Aasim for being a jerk here and there because he makes up for it in his good moments.

Also can I just add side note that Aasim did vote for Clementine and AJ to stay but never gets any credit for that? I don't understand why? People hyperfixate on the fact that Violet and Tenn voted for them to stay and that's used in every single argument for why they're great, but then Aasim just.... doesn't get that? I dunno if it's a "well we really like them but don't really care about him, so he doesn't count" or if it's just a case that no one is really arguing about Aasim so it doesn't need to be brough up or what, just something I noticed.

Not everyone's gonna love him, but that's every character so y'know.

#asks #twdg aasim #twdg louis #twdg willy #twdg mitch #twdg clementine #twdg aj

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razrbladekiss · 3 years

Text

TYRANTS | Chapter Eight - Angels Or Devils

WORD COUNT: 6.3k

WARNINGS: mentions of death, grief, tig, usual SOA shit

MASTERLIST

Irked, Chibs stuffed his cellphone into the pocket of his cut with a prolonged fuck to accompany the squelch of glass against leather.

He couldn’t get a firm grip on anything this morning.

Jax was at large, Isla and Tig had rolled onto the lot together looking much, much too comfortable, and Gemma was chewing every goddamn soul’s ear off about her son.

To say that he wanted the day to be over—before it had even commenced—was the understatement of the fucking year.

“Where the hell is he?” Clay barked from the front of the garage, turning to eye Isla directly. “You sure you haven’t seen him?”

“If I knew where he was, I would’ve told you by now.” Her retort was just as curt, prompting Tig to tense in his spot beside her.

He twined his hand around her bicep in order to calm her, but it was no use.

“Well somebody must know where he is—“

“You tried callin’ Tara?” Chibs cut the president off, hoping he’d be able to take some of the heat off of his daughter—the one that seemed to get all of Clay’s Jax-fueled frustrations launched atop her these days.

He just glared at the Scot.

“I can swing by his place? Make sure he ain’t there?” Tig offered.

“He isn’t. Wendy would’ve said.”

“Alright,” the sergeant smacked his lips together. “We’re gonna have to go without him, then.”

Isla hummed, agreeing with Tig.

That forced a vexed snarl from Clay, and she wanted to throttle him for being so fucking haughty today.

“What? He has a point. If we wait around for him, then we’re gonna be late and the other Sons will get to the cemetery before us. Jax knows where we’re going, and what time this fucking funeral starts, so just trust that he’ll be there!”

Her outburst was completely uncharacteristic. It was brash and loud, and Clay realized that her emotions were running a hell of a lot higher today than what they usually would have, so he allowed it to pass.

He cut her some slack because that was what she needed. Isla needed to blow off some steam, to raise her voice and yell out her frustrations because she would’ve let them bubble over, otherwise.

Plus, unbeknownst to him, she had started to take the Mirtazapine that had been prescribed to her, and she still didn’t know how to feel about it.

It was odd. Everything about today, was just fucking odd.

“Kids right.” The rasped acknowledgment came from Happy this time, nodding in her direction with that signature stoic expression he was known to host. “Jax wouldn’t miss this.”

“Alright.” Clay waved a hand tersely before gesturing to the sea of Harley-Davidsons parked side-by-side. “You heard ‘em. Let’s go.”

Tig grabbed at her hand as she went to slip away—exactly like she did to him last night—and pulled her toward him.

The moment didn’t go unnoticed by Clay and her father as they mounted their bikes, sharing the same look that’d been meshed with confusion and concern.

“You good now?”

She nodded, using her pointer finger to twist the crucifix that was sat against her neck, feeling a foreign heat prickle against her cheeks because all eyes were on them.

After turning up together today, people had their suspicions, too.

And those suspicions were mostly held by Chibs and the pres, but it was partly unrest because they both knew what Tig had done—though, Chibs wasn’t officially privy to Clay pulling the strings.

He would be, though. In time, he would find out for himself.

“Gemma and Wendy are heading out in the SUV. Are you going too?” He squinted underneath the sun, pulling his sunglasses from the neck of his shirt.

“I am.” Isla smiled, squeezing Tig’s hand. “Ride safe.”

She stood straight—not having to shift onto her toes because her heels provided some more height—and pressed a dulcet kiss to his cheek.

“Please don’t get into another fight today.” She expressed sadly, lightly ghosting her fingertips over the bruise sitting uncomfortably against his cheekbone. “I don’t think I have it in me to take care of you again.”

“I can’t make any promises.” Her lips curled upward, expressing some sort of smile—though, what with the forthcoming event, she didn’t feel too good about it.

But she remained silent, after that.

Isla got into the car without saying a single word.

The lull was of course grim, but stillness was what the three women needed. It was good for them to sit in complete silence—the only sound coming from the din of the car engine and outside of the vehicle—because it allowed them space to think.

She needed to collect her thoughts this morning, especially after what she had learned last night. Isla didn’t want to think that Jax would have flipped on Tig like that, but it was Jax.

He was unpredictable.

Never once had she felt a sense of outrage that she wasn’t sure how to quell whenever thinking of her best friend, but she was beginning to understand just why Clay was so pissed at his rashness lately.

Even if he was acting on instinct—using his conscience to rule his decisions—Jax was still acting recklessly. His desire to do the morally sound thing outweighed the need that his club had for him to carry out the act that would result in the greater good.

And he was right to stop Tig from pulling the trigger on that girl, but Isla was wary of how he had decided to handle it.

“You didn’t call me last night.” Gemma whispered as the car pulled up to the cemetery gates. “You said that you’d call me.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Genuinely, she told her. “When I got in I just went straight to bed, but then Tig turned up at my place and he needed my help, and then—“

“You let him stay.” She finished Isla’s sentence with a hum, providing her with an unusually somber glance. “If there’s anything going on between the two of you, then it’s okay—“

“There isn’t.” Isla shot her down, impatiently waiting for the all-clear to leave the vehicle. “He got hurt last night, needed patching up and didn’t wanna go to the clubhouse in case he saw Jax again, and so he came to me. And, because I’m nice, I let him stay the night.”

“Why wouldn’t he wanna see Jax?”

Wendy’s qualm came unexpectedly. She hadn’t thought that the blonde was listening to the little back and forth.

“Because he was the reason that Tig needed his face fixed.” She spat bitterly when Wendy just blinked at her, hoping to God that they’d be able to get outside soon.

Her irritation with the VP was palpable, and Gemma couldn’t help wondering whether Jax’s stunt had a part to play in why she was so galled when his name was brought up before they left the garage.

Regardless, Isla was getting along with it today. For the sake of Opie and his kids, she was putting her hostility aside and paying her respects to Donna the way that she had always been taught to.

“Woah, what a turn out.” Her admiration for the Sons grew with every single member—every Nomad—that she saw riding along the winding road.

Isla moved between Chibs and Tig, holding tightly onto her father’s hand as they walked toward Donna’s casket.

“Still no Jax.” Almost relieved, Tig noted. “Wonder if he’s gonna ride over with Tacoma.”

“Doubt it.” The Scot added. “He woulda followed us. Dunno where the fuck he’s gotten to.”

“He’ll be here.” She promised hopefully, breaking away from the two men—shaking Chibs off when he held on a little bit tighter, not wanting to let her go.

The black dress she’d thrown on was hardly funeral attire, but the tights hugging her legs underneath the cotton made it a bit better.

Tig watched her pad across the grass and toward Opie, trying to sniff back his own tears at the sight of her taking a long-stemmed blue flower, kissing the petals, and placing it atop the coffin.

It was horrible.

“I’m sorry, Ope.” Isla pressed a kiss to her fingers and ghosted it over the wood, feeling her eyes dampen. “Anything you need—anything at all that you can think of for yourself or your mom or the kids—I’m here. Always.”

He couldn’t quite find the words to thank her, but she knew that he was grateful. Opie didn’t have to say anything for Isla to recognize his appreciation for her, for his family, and for everybody that turned out today.

Jax wasn’t there, though. Not yet.

And, perhaps, Isla being at his side during a time of such harrowing distress was her way of trying to comfort him because his best friend was nowhere to be seen. But she would’ve done it for anybody.

She just wished that it wasn’t Opie.

“I love you…So much.” She whispered through a smile when more people began to filter in, backing away to sit beside Gemma and in front of Tig.

The cool metal of his rings were against her shoulder in an instant, anchoring her back to earth after floating much, much too high above the ground.

She was in a distorted haze, so to speak. Isla’s head wasn’t particularly in the right place today, and it could’ve been down to a multitude of things—but she wanted to simply pin it on her grief.

Chibs saw the way she gnawed into her bottom lip, the way she continually pulled Diane’s crucifix across the golden chain as means of comfort—or, maybe, it was just out of remorse.

He noticed that his daughter—his little girl—peered at Opie’s children sitting beside their grandmother as they said goodbye to the woman that brought them into the world.

He wondered if they understood the weight of it all. They were so young, so impressionable, so innocent, and he saw a lot of Isla in those two kids.

The dull throb of Isla’s heart almost slowed to a halt when the funeral commenced, and Jax was still completely out of sight. Juice held his cut while he stood beside Tara, feeling his chest tighten.

It was difficult to understand just why Jackson Teller didn’t show for such an important moment in Opie’s life.

“I can’t believe him.” Tig hissed out in a whisper, completely ruffled. Isla looked up at the man behind her, holding a dainty hand on top of his. “I can’t fucking believe him.”

He didn’t know what to say. Clay didn’t, either. As he stood beside his Sgt. At Arms and peered down at the disheveled blonde, Clay Morrow struggled to find the words to elucidate his disdain for the lack of action from his step-son.

Donna was family. Opie was family. Family was meant to be there for one another, not purposely ignoring such a pivotal event.

“He’ll be here.” Isla repeated her promise, melting into her space as Tig leant over to kiss the top of her head.

Her eyes glazed over instantaneously, coercing her to turn away before she broke down.

But she leaned backward into his embrace, and watched the ceremony commence.

And it only took a handful of moments for her mood to perk up—as much as it could have under the circumstances—but she was conceivably happier at the sight before her.

“I told you.” She mumbled. She refused to let up her grip on Tig, though, holding onto him firmer now.

It was comfortable. He was comfortable.

“What the fuck…”

Jax looked like hell. Still wearing last night’s clothes—still bloodied and bruised from his scuffle—he sauntered over the grass and made a beeline for Tara.

Isla’s throat hitched.

“Did you do that to him?” She mumbled in reference to the slit in his lip, craning her neck to eye the blue-eyed man.

“Yeah, probably.”

She just shook her head with a tiny smirk, shifting her focus back to the asshole that was taking his sweet fucking time.

It didn’t upset her as much as she thought that it would’ve, watching him go back to her like that. If anything, she was glad that they had managed to reconcile because she made him happy.

But, for a reason unbeknownst to herself, she felt bad for Wendy.

To watch the father of her newborn take his cut from a woman that’d only been back in his life for five minutes, to hold and kiss her in front of everyone, was something she shouldn’t have had to witness today.

They weren’t together, but she knew how that was bound to hurt—to sting and incapacitate her because it was all still so fucking raw.

Poor Wendy.

He took one of the flowers away from the sparse pile, holding it to his lips, and placed it atop Donna’s casket.

Jax glared over his shoulder, shooting the two guilt-ridden men a look that read fury. He made sure that Isla wasn’t looking at him when he did that, though.

He refused to look at her.

And he didn’t stay, either. He paid his respects for all of thirty seconds before stalking away, and leaving the most egregious of tastes on the tip of each tongue.

The funeral flew by, after that.

Before Isla knew it, she was dismounting Tig’s bike outside of T M—again—and stumbling over her heels when she couldn’t quite find her footing. She’d been in a world of her own for the last fifteen minutes.

“You want me to get you a beer?” She asked, handing him her helmet. “Or did you want some of that wine you like?”

He snorted at her taunt, taking it from her. “Beer—but none of that shit Bobby drinks.”

Isla chuckled, backing away from the bike and Tig.

“You want a drink, too?” She asked Clay when he strode over, hands in his pockets.

He nodded, waiting for her to slip out of sight before turning his attention to his Sergeant.

“What’s going on with you two?” Clay asked him accusingly, snatching Tig’s attention from the blonde who was ambling into the clubhouse.

He waved the pres off, lighting a cigarette. “Nothing, man. She’s just been helpin’ me out—“

“That’s what you’re calling it now, huh?”

“That’s what it is.” Tig shrugged, exhaling the smoke from his nostrils. “Y’know what she’s like. She sees someone that needs patchin’ up, and she does it. That’s all.”

Unconvinced, Clay leaned closer to him—striving for the little moment to go unnoticed by those that shrouded the lot. Jax and Tara, for one.

“That’s Chibs’s kid. You be careful.”

“Ain’t nothing to be careful about, brother.” Tig ground his lips together, squinting upward as he rested against his bike. “We’re just friends.”

“You stayed the night with her.”

“Yeah—“

“Twice.”

“Clay—“

“In the same fucking bed!” He snapped, running a hand over his face.

His desire to protect the women in his life—to assert the dominance he had, or his authority—was remarkably overbearing at the best of times.

Isla and Gemma didn’t particularly need to be coddled the way that they’d always been at the hands of Clay Morrow and his club, but they were.

And the thought of his sleaziest, loathsome, savage brother getting closer and closer to that woman churned his stomach. Because he knew what Tig was capable of—what he did—and would be damned if anything were to happen to her at the hands of Tig fucking Trager.

Chibs would kill him, too.

“Nothing happened, nothing’s currently happening, and nothing will happen.” He guaranteed. “Clay, I swear.”

“Alright.” Dubious, the older man responded. “But, if there is, then you be careful. Jax is onto us, and it’s only a matter of time before Isla puts two and two together—‘cuz she ain’t stupid.”

Be careful. Be careful. Be careful.

How about you shut the fuck up?

“I know she isn’t.” Almost irked that Clay would assume he thought that, he retorted. “But she’s got shit going on too, man, I don’t think she’s gonna be focusing on this right now so you don’t gotta worry.”

“Alright.” Clay repeated himself.

He didn’t think that his right-hand was telling him the truth, but he couldn’t exactly do anything about that until an issue arose.

What he did know, though, was that Tig Trager would’ve had some serious hell to pay if he had ignited something with Isla right now.

Or ever, really.

“Keep Jax away from her.” He told Clay, flicking his cigarette to the ground. “She’s pissed at him for what he did to me last night.”

“What’d he do?”

Tig pointed at the cuts on his cheek, grimacing. “She’s fucked off, and if they talk she’s probably gonna throw something at him.”

“Eh. Let her.” Clay waved him off, hastily shutting himself up when he heeded her heels clicking across the gravel toward them. “He needs to be humbled sometimes.”

The rivalry between the two had only intensified since Abel was born and Jax’s priorities shifted from the club.

His family came first. His biological family came first.

And maybe Clay didn’t understand the implications and responsibilities that came along with fatherhood because he’d never had that bestowed upon him, but Jax did.

He knew that he had to provide for his kid, for the one being that was solely dependent on him, and he would never compromise or jeopardize that.

Things weren’t going to be made easy for the man, however.

“Budweiser for you.” Isla smiled, handing a bottle to Tig. She passed one to Clay, holding onto it a little firmer as she offered it to him. “And one for you—but you need to take this, and go see your wife.”

“Why?” Hesitantly, he accepted the alcohol.

Isla shrugged. “She just wants to see you. Seems important.”

“Shit.” Clay hissed, taking a long swig before striding away.

She watched him stamp toward the clubhouse, heeding the change in his mood, and wondered why Gemma was so determined to talk to him at that specific moment.

It could’ve been anything with that woman, really. It could’ve been something so minor, completely insignificant, that Gemma had to get off her chest.

Or it could’ve been something along the lines of elucidating the bone-crushing lament that she held for both her husband and Tig.

Whatever it was, however, Clay wasn’t excited to face her.

“What’d he chew your ear off about?” Isla asked, struggling to open her beer. She sighed, suddenly remembering why she loved her screw-top bottles of wine so much.

“Pass it to me.” Tig took it from her, using his own bottle cap to pop hers off. He chuckled at her grimace, handing it back.

“Thanks.” She groaned, lifting it upward. “So…What did Clay want?”

Budweiser blanketed Tig’s tongue and lips as he pulled the drink away from his mouth, using the back of his hand to rub at the excess.

Quickly, he wondered whether lying to Isla—fabricating the truth and downplaying his superior’s concern—was in his best interest.

But she was perceptive. There was no doubt that she’d realize he was lying to her.

“He thinks that something is going on between us.”

She rolled her eyes, taking a pull.

“What?” A little nervous—on edge, perhaps—Tig asked her. “Did you already know that he felt that way?”

“No.” Instantly, she retorted. “I didn’t know about Clay, but Gemma feels the same. D’ya think they’ve talked?”

“Oh, definitely.” With a small glower, he told her.

They absolutely talked about the two, and that was what worried Tig.

There was nothing wrong with them colluding against the pair, as a rule. He wasn’t offended at the thought, he felt quite honored actually.

But it was the connotation that came alongside those conspiracies. The idea that Tig was only so friendly—so supportive and loving—toward Isla because he wanted one thing from her.

And, really, Tig hadn’t pondered that thought before. Well, not before last night, anyway.

For the first time—possibly ever—sex wasn’t on Tig’s agenda with Isla. Enticing her, breaking her heart, and sending her on her way was not something he wanted.

But Tig was renowned for that, wasn’t he? He was known for being a hapless bachelor. A man whose priorities were neither here nor there.

Everyone just expected that. They saw him with her, and came to that one conclusion.

Maybe Isla expected it a little bit, too. Because she’d known him long enough to understand the kind of man that he was—or had the propensity to be—and she could hardly lie and say that this version of Tig didn’t confuse her.

He’d always been the same with her, though. Perhaps that’d been the difference between every woman that entered and left his life, and Isla Telford.

He wasn’t interested in her. Like that.

“Does that bother you?” With an almost undetectable twinge of hurt, Isla asked.

As if it was a basic instinct, Tig shook his head. “Nah. They talk shit all the time. Stuff like that don’t bother me.”

She nodded, refusing to add anything else. Isla sipped her beer, hoping that the ground would open up and swallow her fucking whole.

There wasn’t a single word in the English language that’d ascribe her feeling at that precise time, but ashamed was possibly the closest she could’ve gotten.

And, still, that was a little bit further off the mark than what she would’ve liked. Because she wasn’t entirely ashamed for reacting the way that she had, more so the way that she fucking felt.

Isla’s heart took a blow when Tig told her that.

For why, though? She wasn’t sure.

It might’ve been the nonchalant expression. The complete colorless response that stirred a foreign emotion within her—striking hard against her chest.

Or, it might’ve been what he had said. It was such a casual proclamation. Something that didn’t mean anything, but everything simultaneously.

She didn’t feel anything for Tig. She didn’t particularly want to feel anything for him, either, but that hurt. A lot.

“Same, to be honest.” She lied, forcing her lips upward in a smile. “Gemma is always on my case about this sorta thing. But I just let it go over my head.”

“Always?”

“Yup. Always.” Isla mentioned around the protruding lump in her throat. “If she’s not talking about me and you—like there is a me and you—she’s talking about me and Jax. And if it isn’t that, she’s bitching about Wendy, or Tara, or just anything she can think of.”

Like there is a me and you.

Tig sniffed a little, nodding. He didn’t want Isla to think that bothered him, but it did. A bit, anyway.

“She’s so overbearing, sometimes.” Genuinely slumped, she stated. Isla leaned against the railing beside Tig’s bike, finally looking at him. “Don’t tell her I said that?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He chuckled, taking another swig. “I’d never purposely get you into shit with your mother—“

“She’s not my mother.” Her eyes rolled. “She acts like it, and I love her like one, but she is not my mother.”

Tig knew. He knew all too well just how Isla felt about that, and he wasn’t exactly sure why he said that to her, today.

Gemma was the best woman she knew and the one that, strangely, brought her all of the comfort and prosperity that she’d craved.

But she wasn’t her mother. She wasn’t close to being Diane, and maybe the comparison between the pair hurt a little. Because Gemma Teller-Morrow was nothing like Diane Telford—and the sooner everybody knew that, the sooner Isla could rest.

“I feel bad talking shit about her. All she’s done is help me.”

“And parent you.” He reminded her, tipping his bottle upward. “She parents all of us, but what I mean is she treats you like a kid sometimes. Jax, too.”

“Yeah. I know.” Peeved, she conceded. “But, what can I do? if I wanna keep her around—keep having her so close to me—then, I guess I’ve gotta make a few sacrifices. And, I mean, it’s not all bad.”

“No?”

“Absolutely not. I’m glad that she’s the woman that took a shine to me. If Luann ended up being the one…”

Tig smirked, sizing her up. “You’d probably be doing porn right now.”

“Exactly.” Without shame—not even feeling slightly bashful at the glance she was receiving—she said. “I don’t think I’d hate doing porn, but I don’t think SAMCRO would be thrilled.”

“Absolutely not. Chibs would kill you, for one.”

“And Gemma.”

“Clay, too.” Tig added, withering at the thought.

“What about you?” A little too bold, she asked.

Though their relationship was of the lighthearted nature, Isla wasn’t certain that the habitual riposte was a thing as of late. His response would probably jar her, she thought.

“I wouldn’t hate it.”

She halted, blushing at his words. Her ears prickled with heat, too.

“It’d be hot.” He shrugged, putting his empty bottle against the ground. “I’m sure Juice would love it, too—“

“Oh, get fucked.” She snorted a laugh, throwing the red cap at his chest as he got to his feet. It bounced off the fabric of his shirt, coercing a chuckle from Tig.

“It was only one time.” He taunted, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “That’s still one more time than most chicks ‘round here.”

“He wasn’t awful.” Isla shrugged. “He knew what he was doing, and I had fun. But, like, he hasn’t got any hair…”

“Hair?” Tig began to gesture downward, chuckling when she grabbed his hands to stop him.

“I don’t mean that. I mean hair on his head, Tig.” She calmed her laughter, letting go of him. “I like to tug on it, I guess.”

It felt somewhat illegal, obtaining this information from her.

He already knew that she was a sex fiend, that she liked it rough, and now that she had some kind of hair-pulling kink.

Tig’s chest tightened. So did his pants.

“Duly noted.” Like usual, he quipped. Tig motioned for Isla to head inside with him when he heeded things heating up between Jax and Tara.

She, as always, made a mental note to grill her friend later. Or, maybe, her friends. Because she and Tara were on that level, now, and she felt that things could’ve sailed smoothly between herself and the doctor.

Isla just hoped that she’d open up to her.

“Are you gonna talk to him?” He asked, reading her fucking mind. “I know that you two talk a lot.”

“Probably.” Her shrug was insouciant. “But I’ll leave it a while, I think. Leave the dust to settle over before I approach either one of them.”

Tig’s heart began to thrash. It battered viciously within the constraints of his chest, thumping at an unsteady rhythm the more Isla babbled on as they neared the clubhouse.

It was maiming him, having to keep this to himself.

He knew that concealing it—the weight of it all—was for the best. It’d guarantee peace and conformity within the club and Isla’s life, but it was also a crippling guilt that not even Tig was sure he’d be able to hold forever.

Clay was heartless, though. The nefarious leader hadn’t a single problem with lying through his fucking teeth, and Tig was more than aware that Clay would continue the charade if and when he decided that he could no longer.

He supposed he could thank him for that.

But, then again, he was also the reason that Tig Trager had found himself tangled within yet another web of lethal falsehoods. Thanking Clay was the very last thing that he wanted to do.

“Oh, shit.” Isla stated through partially gritted teeth. She gestured to her father and Happy’s scorned glares. “Why do I keep getting this fucking look from everyone?”

“It’s not you. It’s me.” He snorted another laugh, taking her hand and walking her further into the room after she stopped completely dead.

Really, Donna’s wake was as vibrant as it could’ve been and nobody—aside from Isla’s old man and the Tacoma Nomad—had their sights set on the Sergeant and Chibs’s daughter.

The atmosphere was strangely spirited, hearty and animated as everybody came together to celebrate the life of Opie’s wife…The way that they always had.

But Isla was still on tenterhooks. She loathed the thought of her dad disapproving of her, today, but she didn’t desire the castigation that would’ve come hand in hand with her need to talk to him.

“Tequila?”

“I’ll get back to you on that one.” She smiled at Tig, making a beeline for the bar when she saw Kip. He followed her.

“You’re turning down free alcohol?”

Isla scoffed. “It might be free, but the effects of it would cost me my fucking reputation here.”

Tig’s eyebrows raised. “How so? You don’t not drink, Isla.”

“I know.” Her lips pursed, watching Kip pop the caps off of six beers. “But I never drink tequila. It makes me…uh…it makes me feel a little hot—“

“Tequila turns you on, is what you’re saying.”

“Well, yeah.” A crimson blush bled over her cheeks, her nose, and even across her forehead as her entire face burned red. “It’s no big deal. Just something I discovered after getting black-out drunk when I’d barely turned twenty-one.”

If Tig wasn’t feeling aroused before, then he definitely was at her admission. He had to think of anything to throw his brain off of that mental image.

“I don’t tend to drink the strong stuff.”

“Unless it’s whiskey.”

She pointed with a smile, nodding her head. “That’s right—“

“Hey, what did you want?” Kip interrupted sheepishly, gesturing to the half-empty bottle she had between her fingertips. “Another Bud?”

“Yes, please.” Again, she smiled.

“Same for you?”

Tig nodded.

“Kip,” she began, “and you take something, too. You’ve dealt with these assholes for long enough, now. Take a break. I’ll man the bar if you’d like.”

“Oh, no, I can’t do that—Gemma’ll kill me—“

“With all due respect, fuck Gemma.” She heard Tig chuckle beside her, shrugging when the prospect glanced at the pair nervously. “She won’t say anything if I tell her that I’m the one that told you to take ten minutes away from the bar.”

“Yeah.” He backed her up, grinning. “She never gets mad at Isla.”

It was completely uncharacteristic of him. But she brought something out from the very chasms of Tig Trager’s cold, black heart, and he lauded that.

Not many people had managed to scrape beneath the surface that way, not even Colleen.

God.

Tig shook himself out of the daze he’d slipped into, watching Isla and Kip trade places as she stepped behind the bar, and he made a beeline for a stool.

He’d been standing for a while, now.

“Are you gonna join me behind here?” She asked, drawing Tig’s attention back to her. Isla held up another bottle for him, twinkling underneath the yellowed light above the liquor shelves.

She looked, almost, angelic.

“Sack—“ Tig grabbed at his arm when he tried to leave his seat, feeling the prospect go rigid under his grip.

Isla’s eyebrows bunched together.

“Take two beers for Hap and Chibs.” He released the grey shirt, grinning as he saw the man sweat—clearly anticipating something more than just doing a simple favor.

“Oh, sure.” Kip breathed a sigh of relief, taking the two bottles that Isla had slid toward him. “That all?”

“Yep.” She added, gesturing for him to get on his way and enjoy the break that he’d been appointed.

He headed toward the two men beside the pool table, handing them their beers and pointing toward Tig. He waved with a small smile—hoping to come off as genuine, rather than scheming.

Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it? Giving the two men a couple of beers to throw them off the scent—or, at least, to distract them from making a fuss—was just a ploy to defer attention from the two nestled amongst the alcohol.

And it seemed to work, too.

As Tig walked around the bar to join her on the other side, Isla popped a few bottle caps, mixed a few drinks, and talked to every person that stopped off in front of the oak, without being so much as glanced at by her father.

Gemma hadn’t noticed the change, either.

“You want anything?” She asked Tig, mindlessly pouring a glass of whiskey for one of the Tacoma guys. “Some tequila?”

Indifferently, he shrugged.

“Okay, well that was helpful.”

“Alright,” he chuckled, grabbing two shot glasses, “I’ll take one, if you do, too.”

“Tig.”

“Isla.” His tone was deriding, though she couldn’t help but smile.

She pushed the whiskey toward the unfamiliar Son, thanking him for showing his face today, and turned her attention back to Tig.

In the thirty seconds in which her focus had been diverted, he’d poured two shots, grabbed some salt, and two lime wedges from underneath the counter.

She swallowed thickly, hoping to god she’d be able to play off the effects of that liquor.

Because it was only the one, wasn’t it? She was only going to have one single shot of tequila and, surely, that wasn’t enough to intoxicate her…

Right?

“Aw, fuck.” She slurred, pushing the empty bottle aside. “I really—“ she hiccuped. “I really need to stop drinking.”

“Why?” Just as garbled, he responded.

“‘Cuz I feel like I’m gonna puke.” She snorted a laugh, pushing all of the limes strewn across the redwood into the bin. “And my breath stinks of tequila.”

He waved her off, looking at his chest as he wiped the alcohol from his leathers. “Tequila don’t smell that bad.”

Isla blushed, though she fished around her purse for some gum, regardless.

And her heart fucking plummeted to the pit of her stomach when she noticed the bottle of antidepressants in the smaller compartment, suddenly realizing that her excessive alcohol consumption tonight was for sure going to mess with her.

Shit.

“Water?” He asked, holding two empty glasses. He heeded the dread in her expression, how she looked like she’d seen a fucking ghost.

“Please.”

Tig handed her one of the glasses, slinging his free arm over her shoulder—mainly in an attempt to stabilize her—and padded over to the kitchen.

The clubhouse was a little more sparse, now. Jax and Tara sat alongside Juice, Chibs, and Happy, meanwhile Gemma and Clay were meters apart from one another.

But nobody seemed to notice the lack of manpower behind that bar, which was a wonderful thing. Because Isla feared that she might’ve collapsed had she not hydrated herself.

She feared that she might’ve said, or done, something that she might’ve regretted, too.

Tequila did make her feel “hot”, after all.

“God, I need this so bad.” She practically moaned, twisting the cold water tap, haphazardly holding her glass underneath it.

Isla didn’t even shut the water off, she just chugged that slightly lukewarm—strangely beautiful—liquid like her life depended on it.

“Fuck.” She gasped for air, putting her glass atop the draining board. “Oh my god, that was so fucking good.”

Tig watched in awe.

As droplets of water trickled from her lips, and chin, to her chest, Tig subtly groaned to himself. He stifled a reaction, however.

“Yeah?”

“Oh, hell yeah.” She nodded.

Tig held her glass underneath the tap again, filling it half way. “You want some more?”

Isla took it from him, cocking her head a little when he didn’t let go of the glass. “What?”

“How’d that tequila make you feel?”

“What?” She repeated herself, forgetting about what she told him earlier. “Oh…”

“How’d it make you feel?” He pressed, releasing his grip though lifting his hand to brush his thumb underneath her glossy lips.

“Good.” Isla stumbled over her words, watching his eyes flick over her features. She gulped, though she put the glass straight back down. “Really, really good.”

Tig jolted, though relaxed when she let her hands rest against his shoulders. He hadn’t expected this today. Or ever, really.

“How good is really really good?” He asked, twisting a couple of ringed fingers through long, loose curls.

Her heart was no longer sinking to the pit of her stomach, but fluttering wildly within her palpitating chest.

“Pretty good.”

“Right.” He caught her bluff, nodding. “I could think of something that’d make you feel really, really, really good, y’know?”

“You think?” Isla leaned into him when a hand pressed into the small of her back, and the other holding onto the nape of her neck. She shivered. “Because I think you could.”

Confidently, he bobbed his head. “Oh, I could.”

She was a bundle of nerves, frankly. Tig was so nonchalant, so breezy, and she was just so fucking fraught.

But he didn’t seem to notice—or care—while he surveyed her face, grinding his lips together in anticipation. He lowered his head a little to meet her height, though she still stood on her toes.

“Make me feel really good, Tig.” She whispered, the citrusy scent of tequila permeating his senses, quickening the rate of his pulse.

Isla’s sweet, soft lips ghosted over his own as she exuded a satisfied sigh, loosening up at the feeling of their noses brushing over one another.

It was so gentle. She hasn’t expected a man of such stature, such hunger and animosity, to be capable of something so soothing.

An unmistakable burst of desire started to seep through her, humming against his lips as she opted to wrap both arms around his neck while he backed her up against the sink.

With the support against her lower back, Isla wound a leg around his waist as the kiss amplified and Tig began to grind his hips into her whilst simultaneously moaning.

She didn’t know how badly she needed this tonight.

Pink nails wound into his unruly curls, mindlessly nudging through the hair—pushing him to hasten. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, then. Lauding the flavor of tequila and cigarettes.

But Isla promptly froze at the sound of footsteps—heels, precisely—clicking across the tile.

“Tig, wait.” She jerked her head a little, urging him to stop. “I can hear Gemma—“

“You can see her, too.” The matriarch stated, rounding the corner and immediately coming into Isla’s line of sight.

Both Tig and the blonde shifted to look at her.

“Am I interrupting something?”

#tig trager #tig trager x oc #tig trager fic #tig trager fanfiction #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fandom #sons of anarchy #jax teller #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller x oc

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addie-your-queen · 2 years

Text

Hand Made Memories

For @violetwolfraven for the newsies gift exchange!

Disclaimer: Idk what happened here, but the writing is in like six different styles, and also ended up kind of a mesh between canon and modern times

Read on Ao3/ Read on Wattpad

Prompt: Jack and Davey being mom friends to the rest of the group

Trigger Warnings: None

Word Count: 1219

After a seemingly endless month, finally, the long-awaited trip to the park had come. Jack had promised to take them at the end of the month if they all behaved themselves. Everyone had run around the lodging house gathering up everything they could possibly want with them.

It took well over an hour for everyone to be finally ready to leave. Just as Jack would think they were finally ready to go, someone would remember something they forgot upstairs, or in the kitchen, and race off to find it. When they would arrive back, someone else would remember something.

When at last, everyone was standing by the door, and Davey had done a triple-check headcount, they were ready to go.

Now the two of them lay on a blanket in the shade, watching the chaos that was the newsies. Davey lay propped up on his elbows, a book in his hands, his lap serving as Jack’s pillow.

Jack reached up, gently tugging his wrist, pulling his book forward.

“What are you doing, Jackie?” Davey asked, looking down at him, a confused look painted across his face.

“Blocking the sun,” was Jack’s reply. “It was scorching my eyes out.”

“Don’t be dramatic, Jack,” Davey laughed, gently hitting him on the arm with his book.

“Gah, Davey! Don’t move your book!” Jack protested.

“Sorry, sorry,” Davey said, rolling his eyes fondly and returning his book to block the sun.

“Jack!” Race yelled as he and Albert ran over falling over each other onto the grass before them. “Hi,” he said, resting his chin in his palms and looking up at them with a grin. “Can I have a band-aid?”

“What did you do this time?” Jack asked as Davey began rifling through their bag.

“Here,” he said holding it out. “Race,” he said as Race was about to stick the band-aid onto his knee.

“Yeah?”

Davey rolled his eyes, holding out a baby wipe and some Neosporin. “For heaven's sake, don’t go getting an infection.”

“Right,” Race said, unsticking the band-aid, and taking the baby wipe.

“He ran into a tree,” Albert said, sharing a look with Race as they both burst into giggles.

Davey had a feeling there was something that made it a lot funnier than it sounded.

“Thanks!” Race said, popping up.

“Bye!” Albert called as they ran giggling towards the group.

“Wait, Race!” Davey called. “When’s the last time you put on sunblock?” Race started running faster, and Davey sighed. “I take it that means it’s been too long.”

“Just let him go,” Jack said. “He’s already back over there.”

“Speaking of which Mr. Kelly, when’s the last time you put on sunblock?”

Jack coughed, looking everywhere but Davey.

Davey narrowed his eyes at him, but returned to his book.

The two lay in silence a while. Jack had his eyes closed and Davey thought maybe he might be asleep.

“Do you think, Crutchie’s okay?” a very awake Jack asked, startling Davey.

“What?”

“Dunno, he’s just been standing there all by himself for the past twenty minutes, so I thought maybe something was up.”

Davey looked over to where Jack had indicated. Crutchie stood in the grass, his camera held tightly in both hands, as he awkwardly balanced against his crutch.

Davey shrugged. “You could ask him,” he said softly.

“Hey, Crutch!” Jack called.

Crutchie looked over to them, and Jack motioned for him to come over.

“Hi!” he said brightly as he approached.

“You alright?” Jack asked, flicking Davey’s wrist when he went to close his book.

“Yeah,” Crutchie said, giving the motion a questioning look.

Davey rolled his eyes, closing his book and pulling up his knees to push Jack up. Jack grumbled adjusting himself to sit next to Davey on the blanket. He patted the space next to him, waiting for Crutchie to sit down.

“What were you doing standing over there all by yourself?”

Crutchie shrugged, handing Jack a stack of photos. Jack sorted through them carefully, Davey’s chin resting on his shoulder. The photos captured their friends in various poses. Albert and Race upside down on a bench, Finch sneaking up on an unaware Mush and Blink, a pile of their friends all laughing, so tangled together it was hard to tell who was who. There was one of Les using his wooden sword to fight against Spot, who despite his protests, adored little kids. There was one of Sarah on Katherine’s back, though Jack wasn’t even sure he remembered them being there when they left that morning. Photo after photo captured the happy looks on his friend’s faces, but not one seemed to capture Crutchie’s glowing smile.

“I just want to remember it, you know?” Crutchie said softly. “I want to have something to look back on. Whenever I’m happiest, I want to remember every moment, like I’m saving the happiness I guess.” He looked down at the blanket beneath him, toying with a piece of grass.

“Crutch,” Jack said gently. “Is it really your happiest moment if you aren’t really in it? Sure, looking back at all the pictures is fun, but the pictures aren’t your memories. How can you enjoy the moment when you’re hiding behind a camera. You’re so worried you might forget, but I promise you, if you’re out there laughing and having fun with everyone else, that’s going to be that moment you remember forever. You don’t need a camera to save memories for you. You will save the best ones for yourself. That camera doesn’t make happiness Crutch, so go enjoy what does.”

“I guess,” he said. “But what about you? You’re just sitting over here on the blanket.”

“This is my memory,” Jack said, putting his arm around Davey. “Go make yours.”

Crutchie smiled, pushing himself up.

“Trade you a crutch for a camera?” Jack said, holding out his crutch to him. Crutchie placed the camera in his hands. “I’ll take some pictures for you. Go have fun.”

“Thanks, Jack.”

“Any time, Crutch.” Jack smiled at him.

“When did you get to be so wise?” Davey asked, as they watched Crutchie walk over to their friends, Jack laying his head in his lap again.

“When I fell in love with the person wiser than all the stars combined,” he said, brushing his fingertips across his cheek.

“I’m not like the stars, Jackie,” Davey said, his face flushed as he looked down at his lap.

“Course you are. You’re my star, Davey. My sun, my light.”

“I once met a boy with a mind that ran a million miles a minute,” Davey said. “His imagination could span the skies. He took big risks, and loved bigger. He said whatever was on his mind, and did what he wanted when he wanted. His heart was everywhere but here, but he still would do anything for one of his boys.”

“What changed?” Jack asked, looking up at him.

“Nothing did,” he said softly. “That’s what I love about you. You let your dreams run wild.”

Jack pulled him down into a kiss.

“You know, David Jacobs, that you are the only one I ever let tie me down.”

“I know,” Davey said, kissing him again, and he knew that was Jack’s own way to say he loved him. “I love you,” he whispered against Jack’s lips. “Forever.”

#Addie Writes <3 #newsiesgiftexchange #newsies fanfiction #javid #jack kelly #david jacobs #newsies

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nntssy-old · 3 years

Text

Writer’s Month 2021, Day 1 - Protective

Fandom: One Punch Man Characters/ships: Garou/Metal Bat (not really shippy though), Zenko, Tareo, Bang Word count: 1709 Rating: T?

A/N: Assume they’re already on friendly terms, and Garou occasionally hangs around Metal Bat’s apartment/house.

*****

Tareo was about to answer when Garou sensed some sort of intrusion incoming. From above. On instinct, he stooped down, spreading his arms and keeping the little ones behind. Just in time to shield them from some sort of projectile landing just in front of the three.

No one was moving until the dust settled revealing someone's lower body sticking out of the ground in the middle of a little crater.

No one would survive that.

There was some lingering sense of deja vu though.

Still, Garou straightened up and was about to lure reluctant Zenko and Tareo away — the rule about violence and all that, and kids should have no business with corpses in general — when he heard some groans coming out of the pit as the legs clad in a dusty black wiggled.

Well, not many.

"Big brother?" Zenko's uncertain voice broke the silence further. Tareo looked at her in confusion and disbelief. Garou only quirked his brow.

As if in response, the waggling of the black-clad body intensified, as the person was apparently trying to get out of the entrapment of the earth. Garou came closer to grab the legs and pull them up.

"Big brother, indeed," Garou commented smugly as he recognized the mess of dusty clothes, blood and swears that was hanging upside down in his hands and squirming violently. No wonder the butt looked familiar. "Not many people will survive diving headfirst into the asphalt."

"Now, will ya put me the hell down, you @$#*&%@?" Garou was all too happy to oblige, and the hero was unceremoniously dropped the next instant.

Zenko rushed to her brother as he was straightening himself up, still looking at Garou angrily and muttering things under his breath. The string of curses stopped the moment Bad noticed her presence. His face quickly turned to concern as he noticed Tareo as well.

"Ya should get outta here, now! It's dangerous here!" he shouted looking at the sky in a mild panic — supposedly in the direction he came falling from.

As if on cue the city siren went off. It meshed in with the sound of buildings crumbling as a giant worm-like something emerged above them.

"Get the kids outta here!" Bad repeated, preparing to get straight back to fighting whatever that was, despite his sister clinging to his leg. Now it was directed at Garou.

"Maybe it's you who should crawl to safety," the other answered, glancing the hero up and down, "and I will deal with the monster." He looked at the worm-like creature looming in the sky. "You're already pretty beaten up, might not be up to the task," Garou finished with a grin.

"We don't have much time to lose." The creature started to move seemingly in their direction. "And running isn't exactly my speciality, so…"

"What is that suppo—" Garou started, but a loud screech interrupted him. At the same moment, he felt Tareo's trembling hands on his right leg.

"Quick!" Metal Bat was already shoving Zenko into Garou's arms, but she protested and didn't want to let go of her brother's jacket. "I dunno whether it can see or not, but I think I pissed it off big time, so it might come for me." He unclutched Zenko's hands. "Now, go!" Bad said with the kind of finality in his voice and eyes that perhaps only a parent figure would develop.

The worm-like monster was now pretty determinedly rushing at them. Indeed, there was no time to lose. Garou threw Zenko over his shoulder, picked Tareo under his other arm, and took off doing what he had done way too often in his life — running away.

***

Bang was coming back from his brother's dojo when the sirens went off. He started debating with himself whether he should assist with the threat — he was retired, after all, but still couldn't just walk away when people were in danger.

But his line of thought was interrupted. His former disciple — the same disciple he hadn't seen since that day — just ran past him — strangely, not in the direction of the most danger — carrying two kids. Garou was arguing with the girl over his shoulder and therefore didn't notice his former master.

Suspicious, Bang decided to investigate what could potentially be a kidnapping. Because Garou was involved, and he still felt responsible for his former protege. What were the chances he would just run into Garou like this another time?

They have probably dispatched several heroes to handle the situation already.

***

Putting what he considered a safe distance between them and the monster, Garou stopped. They were up on a hill in some park in the next city. It had a nice view over a city that was being ravaged.

"Alright, this should be far enough," he said lowering both kids on the ground.

But the girl did not let go of him completely, still clutching at his shirt, the sharp and determined look on her face not unlike her brother's.

"Go help him."

"Help who?" Play dumb. It will buy you some time.

Zenko only glared in response though. Those dark eyes of hers looked way too much like her brother's at the moment. Fierce. Stubborn.

"As much as I hate to admit it, your big bro can take care of himself, Little Bat," he said, looking in the direction where supposedly the fight was. "Not to mention, if anything was to happen to you, I would need to find another place to freeload." He made a quoting gesture in the air. No. If anything was to happen to Zenko, that would be the least of his concerns. Metal Bat would hunt him to the ends of the continent and maybe even farther, he was pretty sure of it. In the past, Garou would've been excited at the prospect, but now… not so much. Moreover, he wouldn't want the kid to get harmed. He looked down on Zenko, who was glowering at him with arms crossed, and Tareo, who was watching the monster's rampage from afar and sweating profusely. Either of them.

Another building fell in the distance. Could be either the monster's or the hero's work with more or less equal probability.

"Go help him," Zenko said again with pleading eyes, "please."

Oh, she has decided to change her tactics.

Garou was trying to look anywhere but on her face, while coming up with a convincing response, but truth to be told, the current monster was almost the size of the Elder Centipede who was taken down with a combined effort of several S-class heroes, or so he heard, and Bad had been already looking like shit when they had left him, and it had been half an hour already since…

"We will go to the nearest shelter. There should be one nearby… Really close..." Zenko kept piling up arguments, while yanking at his pant leg.

Garou's eyes were glued to the horizon. With every passing minute, the idea to return seemed more appealing. He wasn't one for patience after all.

"There are probably other heroes there already." It was the only thing he came up with in response.

Garou was so distracted thinking about what was happening far away that he didn't sense someone approaching until it was too late. Too late to hide, that is.

"My-my… It seems every time we meet you get more children around you..." a familiar elderly voice interrupted his thoughts and Zenko's nagging. All three of them tensed and were looking towards the approaching old man — his old master, Bang.

Suddenly, with one audacious thought, it all clicked together. Instead of seeing another problem to solve, Garou's mind came up with a solution. So before the old man started with uneasy questions, he took both kids by the hand and pulled them towards Bang.

"Hey, old man… You wouldn't mind looking after these kids for me for a little bit, would you?" And before anyone could say anything, he took off.

His relationship with Bang wasn't the best, but he knew there were very few places safer than in his teacher's care.

Unless you were a criminal. Or a monster. Or both.

***

Going back was faster without an additional load of two kids, one of which was very much against leaving. Finding Metal Bat shouldn't be hard — he probably was in the epicenter of the destruction, no doubt causing at least half as much damage as the monster.

It seemed, Garou found him just at the right moment: Bad — apparently slammed into the ground previously — was about to stand up, and the worm-like monster was gearing to dive down and swallow the hero. Even a single thought didn't pass through the former Hero Hunter's mind before the instinct took over. In a split moment, he dashed forward. The monster hit the ground, but the two of them were already a dozen meters away.

***

In one second Bad was trying to gain his footing, in the next he was swept away again. This time it was different though. When the world stopped moving, he was able to make out the golden eyes and a familiar wolfish grin through his dizziness. He was held by Garou. Bridal style.

"The hell are ya doing?"

"I just saved you, dipshit."

"Put me down!"

"A 'thank you' would have been nice. But as you wish…" And Bad was unceremoniously dropped down.

"Where are the kids?" he asked standing up.

"Safe. We ran into Bang. And your sister insisted that I come and help you." Garou quickly glanced over Bad. "You look like a bloody shit, by the way."

He felt like that too, but he would agree with the Hero Hunter only over his own dead body.

"So," said Garou as they both stood now — half-facing each other, half-facing the giant worm who tore back up through the ground, "what do we have here?"

"Don't remember agreeing to yer help," argued Bad slinging his bat over the shoulder.

"No one was asking you." The other stretched his arms with a crunch.

A loud screech rang through the air.

They never fought together before, only against each other.

This can be interesting.

#writersmonth2021 #One Punch Man #Garou (OPM)#Metal Bat (Bad)#Zenko (OPM)#Tareo (OPM)#Bang (OPM)#Batarou #me writes #i'm not good with either slang or swearing. sorry #i might expand on this later #i'm not even sure it fits the 'protective' prompt #okay why the *** look so ugly now

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insomnihan · 3 years

Text

han’s Entire Thoughts & Feelings on Dreamcatcher’s “BEcause”

youtube

WE ARE F UCKING UNDER ATTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

there are no read mores here so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

ALRIGHT SO-

THE SONG WHERE DO I START WELL- I SAW A COMMENT SOMEWHERE THAT WAS LIKE ‘THIS HAS GOODNIGHT CREEPINESS WITH RED SUN ESSENCE’ WHOEVER THAT WAS YOUR BRAIN IS GINORMOUS™ AND WRINKLY- IF YOU LISTEN TO IT THE SLIGHT SUMMER VIBE IS TOTALLY THERE YET THE PIANO AND THE HARP (MAYBE I DUNNO BUT WHAT I DOONO IS THAT IT SLAPS) THE PRE CHORUS BUILD UP FAST AS HELL THE DRUMS ARE FAST AS S HIT THE CLOCK IS SO CREEPY THE GUITAR IS JUST ASDFFJGHLHKL;;’ THE DOUBLE TIME DURING DAMIS RAP THAT WAS LITERALLY™ AN ATTEMPT TO TAKE MY LIFE (they were this 👌 close istg) AND THEN THE BRDIGE…………………… SOMEONE TAKE THE WHEEL-

AND THEN THEIR VOICES POWERFUL AS ALWAYS AND THAT F UCKING DISTORTION S HIT DURING ‘FOREVER LOVE AND FOREVER MINE’ IS ACTUAL DR*GS- i dunno what it is but the instrumental being like that and then (to me anyway) theres such a sweet undertone (???) in how they sing and then knowing the lyrics likE I KNOW THEYRE OBSESSED- B O I DO I MISS A FAST DAMI RAP P L E A S E I FEEL LIKE SHES THREATENING ME I LOVE THAT PSYCHO NOISE B ICYJ- THAT BRIDGE IS F UCKING CRAZY SIYEONS AND HANDONGS AND YOOHYEONS GENTLE VOICES AND THEN S U A!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOUREALLYGOTTACOMEOUTOFTHELEFTGODDAMNFIELDWITHTHATICANTSTANDYOUHOWDAREYOUJUSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hello hello for the dance section i will be using THE mcountdown performance yEAH THE ONE POSTED BEFORE THE ACTUAL MV/ALBUM DROP- FIRST OF ALL THE INTRO sorry i have to talk about this theyre so creepy and doll like and jiu is so menacing lIKE WHAT THE F UCK IS THAT (someone answer me what iN THE F CUK did she feed yoohyeon)- NOW ANYWAY I HAVE THINGS TO SAY ABOUT THE ACTUAL DANCE-

OFF THE BAT THE MIRROR INTRODUCTION IS *CHEFS KISS* and then gahyeon choking jiu?????????? LORE????????? IN CHOREOGRAPHY?????????

LISTEN. L I S T E N. ALL OF THEM LIFTING YOOHYEON AT 1:29 LIKE THATS INSANE AND SO FITTING FOR THIS SONG AND VIBE plus yknow………………… handong doing a lot of the lifting………… 👉👈

this specific video doesnt show it during suas verse (which is like Rude™ but fine they show it elsewhere obv) but when shes singing and the rest of them are dropping down slowly………………… yeah-

THE CHORUS EVERY👏SINGLE👏F UCKING👏TIME👏 LIKE THE POSE THEY DO FOR ‘BE’?????????????? THE POWER AND THE GENIUS™ OF IT??????????????????????

DAMI UNHAND ME UNHOLY DEMON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the bridge…………… the rocking from side to side…………… whatever the f uck handong and yoohyeon are doing…………… it was almost like sua was controlling everyone right like deadass im scared-

THE DANCE BREAK PLS LET ME BREATHE

the ending with everyone bowing but gahyeon…………

BICTH……………… BICHY- THE VISUALS JUST KEEP LEVELING THE F UCK UP THATS LIT RALLY INSANE I LOVE THAT FOR THEM- the moment that mystery code was revealed and we were getting demented creepy carnival i waS V I B R A T I N G™ WITH EXCITEMENT the creepy scenery of the dark hotel lobby and the rundown carnival with the merry go round and teacups AND WITH A CULT and the hallway with the mirrors and the lights (like the use of SO much red and green……… the symbolism………) JUST EVERYTHING IS SO F UCKING ABANDONED AND S HIT- THE LITERAL MIRRORING AND DIMENSION S HIT WHAT THE F UCK!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT CREEPY ASS ROOM WHERE THEY KIDNAPPED GAHYEON IN AND SIYEON WAS ACTING ALL TWITCHY OR WHATEVER WHAT WAS THAT-

TIME TO SHOW WHICH SCENES I LIKED

youtube

THE WHOLE GODDAMN THI-

(jk ☺️)

OFF THE BAT GAHYEON MAIN CHARACTER I KNOW THATS RIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

…………………… i just wanted to put this here-

i just wanted to put this here too-

HOW DID YOU EVEN GET HERE

id like to think that the real handong is one getting dragged away and the one standing is the doppelganger (for Plot™ purposes)

W H A T T H E F U C K

I DUNNO WHAT TO SAY OTHER THAN IM SCARED-

G OD WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE THIS PART WAS SO WEIRD WHAT DOES THIS MEAN WHAT DOES IT MEAN

HELLO??????????????????

yeah sure let me take this apple from this broken mirror where another me lies within the walls of this creepy hotel anD EAT IT

W E L P-

………………………………… F-

T H E M

I DUNNO HOW IM BREATHING RN-

JIU

whaT IN THE F UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS SCENE IN THIS SCREENSHOT IS ALREADY A LOT the way she looks seemingly unassuming and harmless in that reception desk that brown and white outfit (is her hair in like………… pigtails???) and then the smile to the instant glare you jusT KNOW youre gonna d*e in that place- MAAAAN BANGS OR NO BANGS SHES STUNNING EITHER WAY AND THATS SO RUDE………… the white dress and those red ACTUAL TALONS will be the d*ath of me

SUA

if i counted correctly she had three (3) different outfits??? outside of the dance ones??? white and red then black and purple then that green and black one??? i think of all of those i really like the red and the green one theres SOMETHING ABOUT THEM i think the green one with the big puffy sleeves more NOT BC ITS MY FAVORITE COLOR I SWEAR the green looks silky and then she also has the thing on the side of her face the pearls in her hair- AND THEN THAT RED ONE with the white sleeves and the frilly collar dude whAT THE F UCK LIKE I KNOW WE SAW IT A LOT BUT I WANNA SEE MORE THO……………

SIYEON

OKAYOKAYOKAY LOOK- THIS OUTFIT IN THIS SCREENSHOT I FEEL LIKE I SHOULDNT LIKE IT YET I DO????????????? two completely different looking patterns that animal print and the strips and then that big ass belt (???) around her waist like this shouldnt be like a GOOD look i dont think……… truly only She™ could make this look work 😔😔😔 i got A LOT A LOT to say about the red and orange plaid crop top and skirt with the different colored clips in her head but the only thought going through my Dumb of Ass Stupid Brain™ iS HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

HANDONG

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY NATURAL BLONDE BELOVED this white dress and the BLACK BOOTS AND THE CHOKER SHE BETTER S TOP- AND DO NOT I REPEAT D O N O T!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SPEAK TO ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ON THAT SHORT WHITE DRESS WITH THE WHITE BOOTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHOEVER STYLED HER YOU DONT CARE ABOUT ME AND THE OTHER HANDONGISTS YET I ALSO LOVE YOU SO MUCH the one with the pink dress dont talk to me dont approach me donT EVEN F UCKING LOOK AT ME IM GOING THROUGH A LOT RN

YOOHYEON

im really Dumb of Ass™ i thought that one pink and (maybe???) super light blue dress had a clock on it- BUT MOVING ON FROM THAT the space buns and whatever those accessories those are and the pink makeup this is sO- then the white dance outfit with those (mesh??? lace??? i just know that its see through-) sleeves and those big ass earrings THAT LOOK AT 2:24 the boots (yeah i gotta mention that first since i just ALWAYS have to mention them) the white blazer all those pearl long ass necklaces and whatever that is on the side of her face why do her visuals HURT SO BAD-

DAMI

bicth…………………………………… B I C T H- WHAT HAS THIS WOMAN BEEN DOING??????!!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!??!??!?!?! THIS OUTFIT IS SUCH AN ATTACK I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT IS ON HER FACE THIS WHOLE LOOK IS SOMETHING ELSE™ her tattoo 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 that bottom part of her hair is kinda clapped tho honestly- the pig tails?????? braids?????? in the dancing part on the black and white tiles IM DOWN YALL IM DOWN SO BAD AND ITS F UCKING RUDE™ THAT WE DONT SEE S HIT OF THAT DRESS AT THE END-

GAHYEON

IM GONNA SAY IT AGAIN LEE👏GAHYEON👏MAIN👏CHARACTER👏I👏KNOW👏THATS👏RIGHT👏👏👏👏👏👏👏!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS RED HAIR IS A BLESSING (especially in that high ponytail i-) SHE IS ATTACKING ME BUT YKNOW WHAT THATS OKAY- im SURE theres a plot significance to her two different dresses the mostly black and the mostly white but my brain can only register WOMAN PRETTY that white one in particular…………… the choker with her hair up and those boots…………… i saw it clear as day and im d wording over it-

BONUS TIME: B-SIDE TRACKS (thoughts and parts i liked)

Intro

i usually expect the intro to be like SUPER HYPE AND INTENSE yknow which it kinda is! however it is consistent that it fits very well and captures the overall vibe of the entire album the calm beginning with the bell like were walking into an establishment and at the halfway point it picks up its intriguing and the ‘i like you’ adds a subtle eeriness that adds just enough to make one wanna continue listening its v good 👌

Airplane

LISTEN……………… LISTEN- this is the VERY LAST genre i expected out of this group YET im not even a little bit shocked that they did this like this cutesy izone-esque summer bop of a song is a DREAMCATCHER™ song……………… YALL- THE AMOUNT OF SEROTONIN THAT ‘AIRPLANE LALALALALALA~~~~~~~’ BRINGS IS SOMETHING SO PERSONAL THIS SECOND GENERATION SUMMERY ASS INSTRUMENTAL WHAT IN THE F UCK- I FEEL LIKE IM RUNNING ON THE BEACH I FEEL THE COLD WIND OF THE WATER BUT THE HEAT OF THE SUN AGAINST MY SKIN AND IM PLAYING WITH A DAMN BEACH BALL WITH A COCONUT DRINK (I F UCKING H*TE LEAVING MY HOUSE) JIU AND DAMI SOUND SO F UCKING PHENOMENAL

Whistle

im pretty firm on believing these b sides represent different times of a summer day and this is the late evening or twilight like not nighttime but CLOSE- i thought i wasnt gonna like the whistling part but that only makes it catchieR THIS SONG IS MAKING ME YEARN AND TRYING TO RECALL LOVELY MEMORIES I DONT EVEN HAVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! then again……………… theres always usually a song on their albums that make me unlock and feel hidden emotions………… THIS SONG GOT ME MISSING A PERSON THAT ISNT REAL this is such a mellow yet so powerful in the way they sing and express each syllable- they all did so good on this song but i gotta mention dami again for her part like oH mY gOoOoOooOoOOOooOD

Alldaylong

JIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the way this song was inspired by a hug jiu got from yoohyeon…………… THIS IS NOT A JOKE she said ‘i wanna try city pop’ anD SHE DONE DID IT- i have NO IDEA how this song managed to hold so much joy and light happiness in every word and instrument used in this but im :ccccccc i literally wanna hug someone after listening to this 😔😔😔 this also makes me yearn for something but at least this one isnt unrealistic or unobtainable i dont think! there are some songs out there that make me cry from its lyrics and its sound but THIS ONE the lyrics and just how happy this song is bro reading the lyrics im about to cry for like the fifth time- they who im love so much… :ccccccc doesnt it make you just wanna hug someone and tell them you love them????????? that you appreciate them??????????

해바라기의 마음 (A Heart of Sunflower)

i knew FOR A FACT FOR👏A👏FACT👏 that they were gonna have a ballad for this album bc road to utopia didnt have one i will admit i was one of the 🤡 that thought jiu would be credited on this song 😬😬😬 ANYWAY- AGAIN WITH THE DAMN YEARNING FOR SOMETHING BUT THIS TIME IM F UCKING SAD AS S HIT why must this song be so powerful to make me emotional before i even got to read the lyrics to fully grasp it……………………… now im truly yearning in the Sad™ way and waiting for some imaginary person who i dont even know will even come back…………………… those damn adlibs are pretty as hell it was sua (and i have to mention dami again okay shes really killing it on this she woNT LET ME LIVE-) who got me feeling this the most like yeah…………………… i am a fool…………… im a fool for loving and missing someone who just disappeared from my lifE G O D D A M N IT-

LIKE this is COMPLETELY surprising album BUT IN THE BEST WAY POSSIBLE as its described it really is a ‘special’ album as while the title track still has their music style and sound theres still an element of summer (a very Terrifying™ summer BUT a ✨Summer✨ album nonetheless) like the b sides are SO different and COMPLETELY caught me off guard when i listened to the highlight medley YET this group of seven amazing and talented women pulled it off!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! its extremely obvious at this point that their steady and organic growth has grown VERY HIGH this time and (although im still very confused by how everything was released and announced BUT i digress) this different kind of method in performing the song the day before seemed to work?????????? I DUNNO WHAT TO SAY ANYMORE this section could literally be summed to just I LOVE DREAMCATCHER SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

IN CONCLUSION: LISTEN TO THIS ALBUM BECAUSE ITS BOMB AS F UCK

AND AS ALWAYS

#these are becoming harder to do i dunno why i cant focus 😔#i wanted to switch handongs and yoohyeons pictures as a joke but i didnt want people to think i was stupid and fake 🤡#dreamcatcher #han.txt #han's afterthoughts

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shoutogepi · 4 years

Text

No Touching

Kirishima Eijirou

word count : 4.3K of S M U T (seriously 98% smut)

[ ✘ (nsfw!) ]

themes : sub!kiri, dom!reader, thigh riding, ball gag and cock ring nastiness

bio : You finally give in to the desires of your favorite client, Red Riot... Not that you’re complaining though.

author’s note : ya so i said i was writing something sinful (shouto smut on hold for the moment) and uhh well this certainly qualifies lmao. ALSO go easy on me please this is my first Kiri fic and I tried my best to do him justice :’(

tagging : @lildreamer93 ty for supporting me 🥰

also available on AO3 here

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅂weat drips down the prominent contours of Red Riot’s chest, the broad muscles jumping in shock at the cold and harsh snap of the clips. His nipples stand out as his back arches off the back of the chair, shoving his thick pectorals into your face. He whimpers out a low moan as your finger gently tugs at the chain connecting the clamps latched onto his sensitive chest. His thighs press together, creating the friction his throbbing cock so desperately desires.

“Y-Y/N,” he grumbles, his crimson eyes flashing briefly at your wicked gaze.

“Tsk tsk tsk, you know better than to call me that, Red.” The words taste so right rolling off your sultry tongue, and the way the number six hero’s eyes roll back as they shut sends your confidence through the roof.

He gasps as your fist squeezes his cock, this being the first time you’ve touched him so directly all night. Your heavy breath on his moist skin makes his legs shake slightly, and he throws his head back over the top of the chair when your hand glides down his shaft, maintaining your tight grip. His cock glistens with your spit and his precum, which has continued to dribble out of his aching slit since you’d begun your teasing long ago.

Sucking the chain into your mouth, you gently rear your head back so the clamps pull on his tender buds. The new position allows you to greedily soak up the way his chest puffs and falls at a quickening rate, his eyebrows scrunched in pleasure. A trickle of blood runs down his chin, his sharp teeth tucked into his bottom lip frantically. He wiggles his hips ever so slightly, hoping you won’t notice how he subtly tries to quicken the pace you’re jerking his dick to. His fingers stab into the meat of his outer thighs, trying to restrain himself from reaching out and touching you.

As his inner battle ensues, you take your time playing with his swollen cock. Gliding your fingers over the protruding veins that decorate his length, squeezing his balls just hard enough to make him shift in his seat— oh god, you love the expressions that fluctuate on his handsome face. It’s partly why he’s your favorite patron.

Sure, being a high end dominatrix has its ups and downs. Sometimes you’d get stuck with a disgusting politician, and sometimes you’d have the pleasure of spending your evening with a top hero. Many a hero had paid for a night with you, and after some time you were able to make your living off of your handful of regulars. You were no virgin to teasing men to their wits’ end, but every time your hands were on your favorite crimson client, you couldn’t help but feel sinful butterflies in your stomach.

But it was dangerous playing with a man who blazed as bright as his fiery red locks. He was dangerous. He was dangerous in the sense that always at the peak of your nights with him, you’d find yourself wondering what would happen if you broke the rules.

“Stop squirming so much,” you instruct, and although a loud whine escapes him, his body instantly stills to follow your command. His eyes slit open as your hand leaves his dick, sagging slightly in his seat in a mixture of disappointment and relief that you had stopped. “Stay,” you demand, winking at his longing gaze.

You saunter over to the vanity, ass pushed out to bend your spine just the way he likes. Your manicured fingernail drags along the drawers, and you enjoy the feeling of his hot eyes glued to your every motion. Opening the top drawer, you search for the items you’d come over here for. Your smile only widens as you recognize the smooth plastics, and you make sure to keep the various items out of Kirishima’s sight as you take it out of the drawer. Reaching out to grab a container of lube perched at the top of the shelf, you gasp as you knock the container onto the floor.

“Clumsy me,” you purr, watching the redhead’s eyes ignite with renewed interest as you lean down to retrieve the bottle. Your tiny little skirt does nothing to cover the ruby red thong that slips between your cheeks, and a broken moan erupts from the hero across the room. Your hand slides up to grip one of your ass cheeks, pulling apart and almost revealing your needy holes.

But you know just how far to spread— and much to Kirishima’s chagrin, he can only see the tiniest glimpse of your sex before you stand upright again.

When you come closer to him, you can see how you’ve affected him. His cock is angry— thick and red and twitching impatiently against his taut stomach. The emotions swirling within his scarlet gaze makes your pussy flutter, and a slight blush rises to your cheeks even though you’re the one in control here.

“My favorite panties, darlin’? You’re always so considerate of me.” His gravelly voice causes shivers to shoot down your spine. His eyes fixed on yours, the corner of his mouth twitches up as you draw nearer, a full smirk on his face as you sink to your knees between his legs. His length jumps eagerly at your proximity, a puff of hot air washing over your face as he exhales.

“Do you like them, Red?” You inquire, but it sounds more like a taunt. You deposit the plastic items on the floor underneath his chair, keeping them out of view. His thighs jerk roughly as your palms lay against the skin there, your fingernails tickling his flesh.

He gulps, his cocky grin faltering as your fingers slide upwards toward his erect cock. “I didn’t get a very good look at ‘em sweetheart. Be a doll and ‘gimme a refresher?” His voice is softer this time, but it still has that Red Riot edge to it. He knows he is not in a position to make requests, but fuck all if he’s not going to try and see your perfect body again.

His heart slams against his ribs at the bright smile that splits your lips. “Hmm, I ‘dunno, Eiji,” you tantalize, ecstatic at the loud groan he releases. His name falling from your pouty lips makes his eyes roll back, his fingers cutting into his palms as he clenches his fists. “You didn’t even say please.”

Drawing fresh air into his lungs, Kirishima licks his lips as you push yourself to stand halfway upright, your face dangling just a short distance from his. Oh, how much he’d pay to lean in and taste your mischievous lips. Your hands still on his thighs, his body trembles at your closeness. “Please, baby, ‘lemme see those panties,” he begs, his voice crackling slightly in desperation. His brows cinched and his eyelids half-lidded, his teeth grind together as he grovels.

You lean in, and his eyes dart south to analyze your breasts for a moment before he looks back at your face in flustered surprise. “You’re such a naughty boy,” you moan, smiling at how his cock jolts upright, standing vertically as if saluting you. “Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.”

You turn around and the sound of Kirishima’s sharp inhale makes the corners of your lips curl into a satisfied smirk. Your ass meets his thighs, cunt placed strategically in between so he doesn’t get the pleasure of feeling your wetness. Of course you’re turned on, but you must comply with those infernal fucking rules.

Kirishima groans unabashedly as you grind your ass against his thighs. He’d visited you many nights before, but this was the first time he’d felt the silky skin of your ass and thighs on his own, and the sensation only makes his aching cock impossibly harder. Twisting your back, you turn your face so you can watch his expression. His eyes are scrunched shut and more blood trails down his chin as he bites his lip so hard his teeth stab into himself. His fists are clenched so tightly beside his thighs that they’re white and trembling, and it seems like he’s too tense to even take in a breath of air.

“Eiji,” you whimper and he immediately opens his eyes, his pupils blown out. “Don’t you wanna see ‘em again?” His gaze remains on your eyes for a moment before he realizes one of your hands is lifting up the back of your skirt, presenting your ass and that delicious sliver of carmine lace that disappears between your cheeks. Your ass jiggles slightly as you drag yourself along his thighs, and he nearly explodes as he watches your asshole pucker underneath the mesh fabric.

“F-fuck, Y/N,” he gasps, finally releasing his poor bottom lip from his pointy teeth’s hold. Your sweet skin on his is too much— infinitely better than the meager scraps his imagination had conjured up all those late nights when he would return home from your workplace. Even though you’d always get him off, he’d find himself hard and ready to go again as he’d replay the hours you’d spent with him in his head. Of course he’d jerked himself off to the thought of finally fucking you, but he would never force you into something you were uncomfortable doing. And then, of course there were those forsaken boundaries with your job, which he ruefully reminds himself of with every roll of your hips.

Kirishima cries out at the loss of your touch, desperate to have your skin on his. The contact was much too brief after all his pent up imaginations had run so wild. A foxy frown is on your pursed lips as you turn around, sinking back to your knees between his legs. “Red,” your tone is low and oozing with lust, and even though he’s being admonished he can’t help but leak more precum at your sultry voice. “You know you’re not supposed to call me that.”

Before he can apologize, you grab one of the toys from underneath the chair. The thick black ring makes him slightly recoil, but his reaction doesn’t stop you as your mouth eagerly engulfs his tip. The pearly substance gathered there greets your tongue with a bitter saltiness that you gladly welcome. His hips nearly buck, and he doesn’t know how he manages to keep still as your throat welcomes his throbbing cock. Moans tumble out from him, loud and dissolute, just the way you love it. You only allow a few bobs on his length before you lean back, sliding the ring around his cock and fixing it to slip around his balls so it sits tightly at the very base of him.

The muscles on his torso are quivering as he tries to recover, his breath ragged and uneven. “I’m s-sorry, darlin’,” he pants and he nearly doubles over as the ring begins to vibrate,” I— fuck— I got too excited.” You wonder if the expletive is because of the vibrating ring or because he’d wanted your body on his longer. You’d barely even touched his cock and yet he was horrifyingly close to climaxing, an embarrassed flush tainting his tan cheeks.

“I forgive you, Red,” you slap his thigh, not soft but also not hard enough to hurt— just the right strength to make him sweat. “But you’ve still gotta take your punishment.”

Kirishima whines gently as his gaze lands on the ball gag you’d brought over, which you now dangle in front of his face. His apologetic gaze captures you as your thumb traces his broken bottom lip, smoothing over the small cuts from his vicious fangs. He dares to lean forward, lips parting and taking your thumb into his mouth. Careful not to slice your skin, he tucks his teeth away and caresses your finger with his warm, strong tongue. You become aware of your cunt dripping between your legs, your arousal intensifying at his intimate and contrite action. You want that tongue on you, all over your body, especially on the places hidden away from his piercing eyes.

You sigh at his submissive gesture, licking your lips as he opens up without protest for the gag. The ball isn’t too large a size, just grand enough to leave his mouth open and to keep him from hurting himself on his spiky teeth. “No hiding now,” you sigh into his ear as you lean into his neck. His moan is much louder with his mouth propped open, and you savor how he blushes slightly at the heightened lewdness. “Aw, you’re blushing, Red?” The color on his cheeks only darkens, and another heavy moan sounds when your fingers land on his cock.

His body is still trembling as you continue your work, and his eyes fall shut as you place your lips on the juncture where his neck meets his broad shoulder. His harsh breaths give warning to how close he is, and you heed their warning as your fingers slowly pull on his rosy member. Strategically ignoring his inflamed tip, you languidly stroke his shaft, and you’re rewarded with a slew of short and desperate mewls from the hero beneath you.

You know just how hard this must be for him. Red Riot, the unbreakable, top hero who prides himself on his manliness and bravery. An absolute unit of a man— rippling muscles strung along his huge frame, sharp teeth to dazzle his fans with his signature cocky grin, and of course the most gallant, chivalrous character— Yes, that’s who is melting into a puddle underneath you.

Your lips dance along his slick chest, never staying long enough to leave a mark that could tarnish his noble reputation. The moans turn to deeper growls as your hand floats further up his length with every jerk, his noises of pleasure so exquisitely loud with his jaw hanging open. You can’t help but shift against his thighs, the burning between your legs becoming hard to ignore. A wave of embarrassment crashes through you as you realize your desire for the man beneath you. If you could have it your way, his cock would be nestled in your cunt so quick he wouldn’t even notice until you were cumming around him. Fuck, if only you weren’t at work right now… what are the damn rules again?

No touching.

No kissing.

No penetration.

The three statements are a blaring mantra in your head, repeating over and over, faster and faster. Fear mixes with your lust, a terror culminating that you might do something forbidden if the words stray from your focus.

No touching.

No kissing.

No penetration.

Kirishima, ever the gentleman, notices the subtle shift in your mood, his eyes taking in your wanton expression and how your hips just barely swing along his thighs. Your core still in between his legs, untouched save for your arousal pooling in your panties. His hungry stare roves over your black brassiere, the thin material not doing much to hide your hard nipples from poking through. He lets out a vicious groan as he imagines how you’d squeal if he could take one of those cute little buds in between his teeth, just hard enough to make you squirm but not so much you’d bleed. Fuck, how wet your cunt must be under that string you called panties, how you’d scream as he rammed his fat cock into your tight little pussy.

Little do you know, the rules are replaying in his head too. He wants you just as badly, if not more.

No touching.

No kissing.

No penetration.

Your hand stops abruptly and he grumbles, unceremoniously ripped from his imagination once more. Your gazes lock, and he lets out a soft moan when you bite your bottom lip, unsure eyes floating around his handsome face.

You’d like to think Eijirou trusts you after all the nights you’ve spent together, but you can’t stop the nerves that tingle with uncertainty as you summon the courage to say something. You’d had surprisingly deep conversation with the man when you weren’t teasing the living shit out of him, even going so far as to reveal your real name in exchange for his-- something a woman in your profession should know much better than to do. But you couldn’t help it, and although you had to chastise him for uttering your name, every time he did so sent a wave of heat rushing toward your core. Even now, after you’d edged him mercilessly all night, his eyes hold a deep, touching sincerity as he looks back at you.

No penetration.

No kissing.

No...

Your shaking hands reach down to land atop his fists. His eyes widen as your thumb pokes into the middle of his fists, unraveling and pulling them so his hands lay open in yours. Your fingers around his wrists now, you guide them to your hips, hovering over your skin as you continue to doubt yourself.

Kirishima allows you to hold his hands so enticingly close, his crimson orbs flickering between your waist and your hasty expression. So he makes the move instead. Slowly, at an almost agonizing pace, he lowers his hands to rest on your flesh.

Touching!

Oh god, he’s touching you and it feels so fucking good!

The skin on his palms is calloused and rough, but they feel like heaven on the smooth skin of your hips. A whimper departs from your open lips, eyes falling closed at how hot and manly his touch feels. His fingers press into your supple hips, moving your torso to the left slightly and maneuvering you to poise directly above his thigh. He watches your erotic expression blossom as you sink yourself onto his thigh, your cunt finally receiving the friction it so desperately desires. He snarls out a sexy groan at how easily your cunt wets his thigh, your arousal soaking through the red thong you had put on just for him.

“Eiji,” you moan and he grabs your hips hard. His biceps bulge as he slides you toward him, dragging your pussy along his thigh and soliciting a whine from your parted lips.

Your hand starts up again on Kirishima’s cock, jerking his whole length now and making sure to pay special attention to his pretty pink tip. Your other hand flies up to curl around the back of his neck, your elbow perching on his shoulder. His soft red locks tickle your wrist, his hair flat and void of product. Your fingers twitch to undo the ball gag but you know very well if you do that, you’re going to kiss him. You’re going to kiss him and feel his tongue on yours, and you’re going to suck in all his moans and give him some of your own.

And then, that’s two rules thrown out the window, why not abandon the last as well?

No, you’re a good girl and you need this job. You need it more than you need Eijirou’s mouth and his cock, even if the call is so disturbingly close. No kissing and no penetration. And fuck, you could get off with just his touch no problem.

The hero underneath you groans at your renewed vigor on his member, his grip tightening still as he drives your hips back and forth against his thigh. His jaw becoming sore from being open so long, drool trickles down his chin to drip onto his lap. He longs for your release, eyes barely open to watch you make such a sinful face as you let him push and pull your body against his. A devious thought enters his mind, and he quickly acts on it, activating his quirk on his lower half.

The gasp that tears from you is exhilarating, and Kirishima’s wrists only flick your hips faster against his hardened muscles. He allows his moans to ring out into the room without restraint, his deep, guttural noises loud enough to drown out the beautiful whines that he forces out of you. Your hand keeps up with this increased pace, thumb pressing dangerously into the head of his cock and smearing the essence trickling out of him so it lubes up your ministrations.

His hardened thigh sends delicious jolts of pleasure through your body as Kirishima drags your clit against himself. Your fingers pull tightly on the hairs at the base of his head, eliciting a sensual howl to rumble from his chest. The incredible solidity of his muscle beneath your quivering cunt forces you to hurdle to the edge at a shameful speed— already you can feel the haziness of an orgasm consuming you. His quirk so delectably harmonious with the onslaught his hands roll you against, your head tilts back as your eyes slam shut.

“Red!” Your body crumbles in his hands, collapsing as your climax wracks through you, emanating from your core and making your entirety surge with a pulsating, white heat. Your hand on his cock clenches, frantically yanking at his sensitive tip and making his hips buck up against you.

Kirishima revels in your euphoric expression and how your pussy clenches through your thong against his now-soft thigh. He continues to draw your hips along his lap sensually, watching your chest shake as you recuperate. Your head flops forward so your forehead rests on his shoulder, your hand on his neck falling to drag your nails along his muscular back. The sensation makes his skin prickle, and he can’t hold back the smug grin that appears on his lips. He’d made you orgasm and he’d barely even touched you.

Finally catching your breath, you slither off his thigh. A thin trail of your arousal strings out as your hips retreat, connecting your cunt and the pool of slick that had leaked onto his muscle. A pink blush blooms on your cheeks at the sight, and Kirishima can only let out another vocal groan to assure you he finds it sexy.

Shakily landing on your knees once more between his legs, your fingers slide under the confining ring on his base, slipping the forsaken toy off of him. His cock seems to immediately grow, pulsing and radiating heat against your palms. His hand frames your face, thumb on your chin and middle finger brushing the corner of your jaw. The other hand pushes your hair away from your mouth, and you hum in appreciation as your hand cups his length.

Kirishima sighs as you take him into your mouth, his cock feeling free yet hypersensitive after the torture from the vibrating ring. Your tongue caresses the tip, swirling around to collect his saltiness before flattening at the bottom of your mouth, and sliding his member deep into your throat. His sensual moans greet your ears as your velvety mouth welcomes his length, and his eyes flutter closed as you guide more and more of him inside.

Your movements are lazier than usual, your brain still clouded with ecstasy from your orgasm, but he doesn’t seem to mind the extra care you give. Your tongue curls around his length, the soft ack ack ack of his cock nestling entirely inside your throat making him shudder. Your fingers trail up his flexed torso, hooking around the metal chain across his chest and gently pulling it towards yourself. His groans increasing in frequency and volume, you blearily look up to catch his scarlet gaze honed in on you. Your other hand cupping his balls and your nails combing through his black, trimmed hair, his eyes whirl back into his skull, and a broken, ferocious snarl tears through him.

Briny, hot ropes of his cum easily coast down your throat, and your purr against his member. He lets out another animalistic growl, his long overdue orgasm sending shivers from head to toe. The face he pulls is exquisite, his eyes nearly crossing in bliss and his jaw still hung open, drool dribbling down the corner of his mouth. Rolling his balls in your palm as your tongue glides alone his veins, your mouth leaves his cock as you stand. Your cunt throbs, longing to be stretched with his thick cock at the knowledge that had his mouth not been full on the gag, it would’ve been dripping with your name.

Sitting in his lap, facing him again, your fingers wind around the back of his head and undo the gag. The ball falls out of his slack jaw and drips with his saliva, not that that phases you. His lust-clouded eyes regard yours, and a low chuckle thrums out of him as his hands drift up and down your spine. His lips curve into a sated smile, a warm feeling trickling into your chest and you suddenly feel bashful under his intense eyes.

“So we breakin’ the rules now, baby? Long time comin’,” He whispers, his hands gathering your hips once more and dragging you into his chest. The friction on your puffy clit makes your core spasm around nothing, and as if the movement is not enough to be noticed by Red Riot, a low whine tumbles out of you. He presses you closer to his torso, the sinew underneath his skin protruding delightfully. You let out a mewl as your cunt touches his still-hard cock, your mesh panties the only barrier separating your bodies. “You’re so fuckin’ cute pressed up against me like this, darlin’.”

You gasp as his finger dips into the puddle you’d left on his thigh, shocked as he sticks the digit in his mouth and groans.

“Bet these lips of yours are just as sweet,” he mumbles as his hand takes your chin, thumb rolling over your plump bottom lip. His eyebrow quirks as an idea comes to mind, his hands still running across your soft skin with his darkened gaze challenging you.

“Does it count as rule breakin’ if we head back to my place?”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

thank you so much for reading. If you’d like a part 2 (breaking the other rules huehuehue) please be sure to let me know ♥︎

make sure to shoot me a comment/ask/reblog if you enjoyed ♥︎♥︎♥︎ I’d love to receive any feedback!!!

➥ masterlist

#waaa my first kiri fic!!#i hope i portrayed him alright #i really struggled trying to capture his character so if it's off im sorry :((#but dang he was kinda hot tho right?? lmao #if part 2 is in demand the tables may turn 👀#my fics #kirishima fic #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijirou smut #kirishima smut #red riot smut #red riot fic #kirishima eijirou fic #bnha smut #bnha fic #mha smut #mha fic #bnha x reader #mha x reader

1K notes · View notes

missjanjie · 3 years

Note

jankie + something related to that video of them doing the 8 count because it was so cute 🥺🥰

After the first show of their cruise, Jan, Jackie, and Heidi were sitting at the bar getting drinks, chatting casually.

“How long did y’all have to rehearse to get so in sync?” Heidi asked, impressed by the number they’d done together.

“What, the eight count and all that?” Jan asked with a grin. “Not all that much, really. We have similar styles, we just mesh together really well.”

Heidi couldn’t help but smirk. “Oh, I bet you do.”

“You know she didn’t mean it like that,” Jackie nudged him lightly, though it didn’t help his case that his face turned red.

His smirk only broadened. “I dunno shit, but something’s telling me y’all are doing an eight count in bed if you catch my drift.”

“I think you’ve had enough to drink, Heidi,” Jan tried to sound even and gentle, though his cheeks were pink too.

“Don’t you try to gaslight me, I know chemistry when I see it.”

Jan and Jackie exchanged nervous glances, hesitating as they tried to silently decide whether or not to tell their friend the truth, that his suspicions were right on the money.

“How well can you keep a secret?” Jan finally asked.

#mini drabbles #jankie #chjan #chjackie #shjankie

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mulletcal · 4 years

Text

behind the scenes - calum hood blurb.

description: you’re helping cal film the wildflower video, but you’re very distracting.

a/n: me? writing smut for the second time? shocking. hopefully it’s alright!!

warnings: smut, oral (female receiving)

word count: 1.5k

--------

The hardest thing for Calum during this lockdown was not having the ability to see his bandmates whenever and wherever he pleased. Sure, he had you, but it wasn’t the same as Ashton showing up upwards of five times a week with some new pastry he learned how to make, or some new vocal group a fan tweeted to him.

It bummed him out more when the shoot for the Wildflower video had been cancelled - he knew it was necessary, but the concept that they had was so fun and nothing was going to top it - that was, until Andy and Sarah informed them that they were learning animation, and they would be sending a sanitized green screen to his house for him to film in front of.

Sheepishly, he asked you to help him film the video - or at least provide some direction while he propped his phone onto a makeshift stand in the living room. You were more than happy to help, making him giggle when you would raise your eyebrows at him suggestively on occasion. After the first few takes, you set his phone down, propping it up just so, just because you wanted to bop along in the background without making the frame shaky.

Calum grew increasingly distracted as you did so, though, because you were doing lewd gestures, continuously mouthing the words ‘cum’ and ‘fuck’ at the appropriate parts - despite Calum’s statement about the song being about “abundance”, you found it hilarious to do so anyways. You were sure he was going to crack soon, seeing the look on his face that was his tell when he was up to something.

“Baby, you gotta stop,” Calum chuckled, running his hands over his face.

“Dunno what you mean darling,” You teased, stepping around the stand and wrapping your arms around his neck. Beginning to trail kisses along his jaw, you felt the muscle tense under your lips.

“Fuck, the camera is still goin’,” Calum muttered, grabbing his phone, placing it close to his face in what can only be described as his ‘hammerhead’ pose before murmuring, “Andy, I know you know this - but do not put that in.”

After he stopped recording, Calum tossed his phone onto the couch, turning to you with a smirk on his lips.

“We’re not having sex near this green screen it has to go to Ashton after this,” You warned, yelping in surprise when Calum, in one swift motion, wrapped his arms around your thighs and lifted you over his shoulder.

“Don’t you fret, flower, we’re gonna need some space for you to spread out.”

You figured he’d take you to the bedroom, easier access to lay you out completely, but to your surprise you were met with the cold marble of the kitchen island against your thighs. Once you were eye to eye, Calum gave you a wicked grin, his fingers ghosting up your calves, continuing the trail of his fingers until they were at the hem of your - well, his - shirt.

“Couldn’t wait til we reached the bedroom, could you?” You asked, leaning back on your hands.

“Baby, all our best meals are had in the kitchen. This should be no exception,” Calum’s lips worked their way down your jaw, tilting your head to give him better access to your neck.

His fingers met the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down and helping you lift your hips to do so. Rather than just tossing them to the floor, Calum tucked them into his pocket, making you laugh slightly. You knew he’d find them later and you’d be back here tonight. Well, you hoped in the actual bedroom instead - the marble was cold against your bare skin.

Calum definitely took his time working his way down, causing you to squirm as you grew more impatient. His hands were firmly on your thighs, seemingly holding you down so you wouldn’t get any wise ideas.

After what seemed like years, he pushed your legs apart. His lips continued to work your neck, but he brought a hand up to press his fingers against your clit, rubbing small circles causing you to gasp.

“Cal, please,” you whined, hips lurching forwards to get more friction somehow.

“Please what, flower. Tell me what you like,” Calum smirked against your skin, slowing the movement of his fingers.

“Uh-huh, no. You don’t get to use your own lyrics against me. I won’t hesitate to walk away and finish the job myself,” Your words were threatening, which you knew would get him going - but you hoped it would get him going in the direction you wanted him.

Calum pulled back from your lips, and moved his hand away as well, “My baby thinks she can threaten me, huh? Did you forget the last time you tried that?”

You shivered at the memory, but bit your lip as you looked at him through your lashes, “Please baby, I want your mouth.”

His face went from a relatively serious one, to breaking into a cheshire cat like grin before he dropped to his knees, “That’s a good girl.”

Light kisses were pressed up your legs, Calum going back to taking his time - but you were grateful he was getting closer to where you wanted him. Parting your legs even further so he could take all of you in.

“So ready for me, so needy,” He hummed, sucking a mark into your thigh. You chewed on your lower lip, always finding his need to mark you incredibly sexy.

Calum looked up at you one last time, taking your legs and putting them over his shoulders before he dove in, plump lips attaching to your clit, and you felt him flatten his tongue against it. A moan escaped your lips as he worked, alternating between circling his tongue around your clit, and sucking it.

“Baby,” you whispered softly, “More, please. Please,” You begged, entangling your fingers into his blonde locks.

Your legs tightened against his shoulders when you felt his fingers press at your entrance, about to rock your hips to encourage more; but his opposite hand was holding you down, and you let out a frustrated groan. You were rewarded shortly after though when he finally pushed two of his fingers fully inside, curling them slightly as he did.

Calum moaned before he pulled his lips away, his fingers pumping into you while he looked up at you to see your reaction. He loved to watch you, the way your lips would roll between your teeth, or the way you would close your eyes, brows furrowed in concentration as you tried to hold out on your orgasm.

“You’re so stunning baby, love how you look right now. Should eat all my meals here,” He teased, dipping his head down and delivering small kitten licks against you. Adding a third finger, Calum no longer held you back while he worked his fingers into you, reattaching his lips to your clit.

“Fuck Cal,” You moaned, tightening your fingers into his hair which made him moan. His moan sent shocks through your system, goosebumps raising on your skin as you got closer to the edge. “So close baby.” You were gasping for air at this point, hips working on their own accord, rolling up to meet his tongue and fingers.

“C’mon baby, it’s okay,” He encouraged, curling his fingers and applying more pressure against your most sensitive spot. Calum worked his tongue against you with a new fervour, enjoying the soft whines that were emitting from your lips while he did.

You couldn’t hold back any longer, hips stilling as you reached your peak, Calum continuing his motions while you rode out your orgasm. Releasing his hair when you came down finally, he used his tongue to clean you up before standing once again to his full height.

“M’gonna need you finish filming,” You spoke in between pants, tugging the front of his mesh shirt so you could kiss him.

In the heat of the moment, you both hadn’t heard Calum’s phone letting out a continuous stream of vibrations. Furrowing his brows when he realized his phone was going off, he headed back into the living room, picking up his phone to see Ashton’s name flash across the caller I.D.

“Hey Ash, what’s up?” Calum asked when he answered, wiping at his lips and tossing you a wink.

“Wow, fucking finally. Thought you had fallen into your pool or some shit. You almost done with the green screen? Andy said he called you but you didn’t answer.”

“I’m fine! We were just busy filming,” His excuse was met with a sigh on the other line.

“Mate, you’re filming this shit on your phone. You’re gonna have to think of a better excuse next time. Finish up so we can get this shit done. And I mean the video, love you bye.”

Calum returned the sentiment, chuckling as he hung up and turned to you, “So. Next time I’m gonna have to wait till after I finish filming.”

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