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kxsalt · 21 days

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(Hot Coffee, part one. Part two is here.)

Hot coffee pours from the carafe. The young lady turns back to her customer and hands him the steaming cup. He pauses to look thoughtfully into the brew. Pointing at it, he asks; “Is this vegan?” She stares at him blankly. “Uh, yes. Coffee is vegan.” He nods in approval and wanders over to the condiment bar to pour cream into his cup. The girl watches him with dead eyes, shakes her head, and returns to her work. “Oookay… I can help the next customer!”

The next man in line steps up to the counter. “Small coffee, black, please and thank you.” She’s relieved by his basic manners and comprehensive understanding of how to purchase coffee. Pouring his cup, she looks back at him and meets his eyes. “You look super familiar. Have you been here before?” He leans against the counter as she steals a peek at his toned arms. “No, I haven’t. I might be coming by regularly; I just started some work nearby.” The barista brings the cup to him. “Ah, well, I hope you enjoy your new job!” Handing the man his coffee, they both glance over to see the first customer adding honey into his mug. He looks back at her with a compassionate smile. “Thanks, you too.”

She thinks about him for the rest of her shift, crawling through traffic on her bus ride home, and throughout the evening. I know I’ve seen him before, but where? He didn’t seem to recognize me at all. Finishing her night early, she crawls into bed. The girl opens up her laptop and reaches into her bedside drawer. Pulling out her strongest vibrator, she speaks to it. “It’s been a long day.” Pulling up an old comfort video she presses the buzzing toy firmly against her clit. She exhales deeply and finally starts to relax. Her eyes are fixed on the porn on her laptop. At first, she focuses on the man’s strong arms, gripping the woman by the hips – something that always excited her. But as the video carries on, she finds herself looking at the woman’s face. She looks so excited. Pleasured. Happy.

“You like that, slut?” The girl almost screams, dropping her vibrator between her legs. The man in the video has leaned into the frame. That’s him. From the shop today. That’s him. The woman in the video moans; “Yes! I love it!” He grabs her by the neck. “Do you want to be a good whore?”

She looks into his eyes. “Yes, I do.”

A few days later, the girl clocks out for her break. She spends it like all her other breaks, sitting outside, vaping, and fantasizing about sex or getting hit by a bus, depending on her mood. Today is a bus day. She blows a cloud of vapour into the air which drifts past the entrance to the coffee shop. A customer emerges with his coffee, lights a cigarette, and sits down next to her. The girl barely notices: She’s at the part of her fantasy where she’s in the hospital with a lawyer getting a giant check from the city. He takes a drag of his cigarette and gestures at the cloud in front of the shop.

“That stuff will kill you, you know.”

She jolts from her fantasy and turns to the smoking man. “What? Oh, hi! It’s you again. Um…” She fumbles with her device. “What do you mean? Smoking isn’t any better.”

“What? Really? But it’s vegan.” He retorts in a sing-song voice.

The girl clues in on the joke and they laugh together. She expected to be at a loss for words when she saw him again, but she finds herself oddly comfortable.

“So… I know where I recognize you from…?”

“Shit, really? They still have those wanted posters up? Please don’t call the cops.”

They laugh some more. “I just wanted to say… That I’m a big fan. I think what you do is… cool?”

“Oh, thank you! It takes a lot of vulnerability, so hearing that means a lot.”

“How did you start… you know… making porn?”

“What do you mean? I just started. Life’s short. I wanted to do it. So, I did.”

She nods slowly, stunned by the simplicity of his answer.

“You know, I’m filming right around the corner. If you ever wanted to come by and see the process, you’re more than welcome to. Just so long as it doesn’t ruin the magic for you.”

“Really? Yeah. Yeah, I would love that.”

“Great, here’s my number. Just let me know when you want to come by.”

He stands up and puts out his cigarette.

“By the way, you should quit. It’s bad for your health.”

“Oh please, vaping is the only thing that gets me through the day.”

He walks off to his job. “I wasn’t talking about that!”

She approaches the unassuming apartment door. Hanging from the door handle is a small sign: ‘Filming, don’t knock.’ The girl turns the handle carefully and sneaks inside. All the lights are off, except for the bedroom which is flooded with light. The familiar sounds of sex drift through the apartment. She stealthily approaches the doorway and peers into the bright room.

Three people with various film equipment surround a couple on the bed. She immediately recognizes her new friend kneeling behind a woman. He’s gripping her waist and forcing his cock deep into her. She’s bent over, ass up in the air, with her wrists handcuffed to the bedframe. The woman shrieks in delight with each thrust.

The director sees the young girl at the doorway and slips away to go and talk to her.

“Are you the fluffer?” The director whispers.

“What’s a fluffer?” The girl whispers back.

“Oh, you’re his friend. Never mind. Can you just wait here until the scene is done?”

The woman returns to the improvised set. The girl watches greedily, enjoying her voyeuristic perspective. She feels a combination of fascination and arousal that she’s never felt before. After a few more minutes, the director calls cut and asks the couple to switch positions. The woman on the bed rolls onto her back, her face flushed with ecstasy. The director waves to the actress. “Sorry, we gotta fix your makeup, take five, okay?” The woman releases herself from her handcuffs and scurries off to the bathroom.

“Hey, you made it!” The man sits on the bed, stroking his cock. “Come in, don’t be shy.”

She wanders over to talk to him, giving an awkward wave to the camera crew. Sitting on the bed next to the naked man, they make small talk and he explains a bit of how they work. All the while, he leans back against the bedframe, showing off his muscular body, and stroking himself. She finds himself staring at his thick cock running through his hands.

“Sorry, I just need to stay hard for when we get going again.”

“No problem… That makes sense. Nothing I haven’t seen before!” She jokes and toys with her hair. “Question: what’s a ‘fluffer’?”

“A fluffer is a girl who’s not part of the scene, who helps keep the actor hard during downtime like this. She might have sex or give head.” She catches him glancing at her chest. “…or sometimes just flirt and look cute. Usually, people just do it for fun, but it’s very useful.”

“Aha, okay…” She looks around the room. The crew is entirely ignoring her, scrolling through their phones. Looking into the bathroom she sees the actress still working on fixing her makeup. The girl turns back to the man.

“I don’t want to get in the way, or anything. But… Can I try? Being a fluffer?”

A sweet smile. “That would be really helpful.”

The girl smiles back and lowers her head into his lap. Taking his cock from his hand she strokes it softly, admiring its size. It’s bigger in person. Hungry for him, she wraps her lips around his head. He growls, sending warm waves through her body echoing in her pussy. Her mind goes blank and she slips him into her throat. Wet lips push into the base of his thick, shaved cock. Pride and excitement fill her as he starts to mumble and gasp from her fellatio. Saliva runs onto his balls, which she gently plays with as she deepthroats him. Her pussy drips as his breathing becomes raspy and shallow. I’m deepthroating my favorite porn star, and he loves it. She always knew she was a good cocksucker but getting this reaction from someone so experienced felt incredible.

His hand still softly stroking her hair, she sucks his dick joyfully. Lips wrapped around him, her tongue pushes firmly below his tip, licking upwards to squeeze a little taste of his precum. Still caressing his balls with one hand, the other strokes his shaft. The girl tightens her grip, maximizes her suction, and increases her pace. The man makes another primal noise, and the hand running through her hair finds its grip. Holding onto the back of her head, he pushes her face down again. The girl clamps onto his dick, forcing him to pull hard back up to slide her head up to the top again.

Willing tears roll down her concave cheeks as she holds his cock in his mouth with everything she has. The girl only relents her throat’s hold to let him force his cock deeper. Her shiny eyes meet his unfocused gaze. Her expression is one of complete submission. His expression could easily be mistaken for rage. The man’s other hand reaches down under her dress to find her without panties, and a smooth, bare pussy. She’s wet with her cum, and he grips her bum with the palm of his hand, sliding two fingers into her with ease. The girl’s eyes cross from the feeling of him penetrating her. He bares his teeth and shoves her head down again, and his fingers deep into her pussy.

Sparks fly across her vision and her head swims. A lack of oxygen from her deepthroating of the man’s thick cock, and adrenaline from his touch cause her to come close to fainting. Her pussy only gets wetter at the thought of passing out from getting used by him.

Moments away from darkness, the actress returns from the bathroom and steps over the girl to return to her position. As she reattaches the restraints to her wrists, the director asks them to resume the scene. The fluffer pulls her head off his cock with a pop. She looks up at him, teary-eyed, gasping for breath, and panting for his dick. His eyes are locked deep into hers with a feral glow. Teasing him, she gives him a naughty grin, strings of drool running from her chin to his throbbing cock. “Back to work for you!” Her voice is playful and confident, but her eyes betray a needy disappointment with their interruption.

The girl slowly slides off the bed, standing to face away from him. She looks over her shoulder, down to her exposed bum. His hand still deep between her thighs, gripping her ass, fingers still in her pussy. Not wanting to let go, he doesn’t break eye contact, holding her there. Pushing back just an inch, she fits a little bit more of him inside herself.

“Let’s keep going, we’ve still got a lot to shoot.”

The man gives a disappointed groan and releases the young lady. His fingers slide from her eager slit and he rolls over onto the actress. The girl walks back to the doorway with a sly butt wiggle. The man pushes his cock against the bound woman’s pussy, trying to resume the scene. The actress complains and whines, “Fuck, you’re so hard. Jesus, go slow to start.”

The camera rolls. The man is a professional, and he resumes fucking the actress, with just slightly less enthusiasm than before. Buried deep inside her, he looks up, past the lights, straight into the girl’s eyes. She winks at him and bites her lip.

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baddywronglegs · 2 months

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I don't think I ever used to get "uncanny valley", like things looked either right or wrong and I didn't think there was anything between the two. Things that had that effect on others just looked off enough to me to evoke more disappointment than anything.

Is that an autism thing? It feels like one.

Anyway, that was before AI image generators came along.

You might've seen the post where @galadriel1010 showed how I came to be here, including a screenshot of me using Bing's image creator to show how badly a machine can misunderstand the concept of "centaur". I've toyed with image generation AI since it went public, and had it been done differently, it could have been an amazing tool in an artist's kit. Reference images on demand, content-aware fill so you never have to draw every individual hair or brick again.

That's not the direction they took.

Instead they tried to be art. But they didn't stop to ask what art is. They just shoved as much stolen art as they could in a black box and hoped if they boiled it long enough they could condense art from the vapours.

And now I get uncanny valley.

Because I've never seen a Midjourney or Stable Diffusion output or whatever out on the wider internet and not been struck by the jarring feeling that something is wrong.

I draw things on the line between comedy and body horror. My ideal reaction to anyone looking at my art is for someone to laugh "No!"; I can appreciate Slightly Off done well, and that's not what this is.

It's like playing Where's Wally but Wally is an extra finger, or a strand of hair which at some point becomes the furniture, or the fact that all of their teeth are incisors. The friendliest tooth, for the friendliest smile from a face which doesn't know what either friendliness or a smile is.

You can't get a pose reference from a computer that doesn't understand what your spine is for.

I'm grateful to the Willy Wonka experience for its part in the death spiral of generative AI as "art". Thank you for doing so little to mask the inadequacies and shortcomings of mechanised plagiarism.

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planete777 · 8 months

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NO IDEA・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader )

IN WHICH. y/n and lando can't get enough of each other, even when another person is present (based on this ask)

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, starring max fewtrell, y/n and lando get too horny for him so he dips lol, pwp, lil bit of smoke play??, unprotected p in v sex, doggy style, riding, missionary, lil dirty talk, smoking while fucking, guys this is just filth pt. 2

NOTE. so uhm.. im lowkey shitting out fics,,, two works in one day??? WOW. this is what the summer holidays does to me lolll. i wasn't supposed to be writing this BUT anon slipped into my inbox with this ask and my brain couldn't hold back (i mean... it is high!lando) so enjoy lmao <33 also, once again, dividers are not mine, credit to the rightful owners

the smoke alone that painted the room a misty white was in intense abundance. y/n could barely see more than a foot ahead of her, where max lay, body completely at the mercy of the heavens and sprawled like a dead man upon the couch. lando, sticky, hot body beside her, is just as faded, breaths so evened out, it's almost as if he's subject to a comatosed state.

y/n never knew max smoked, fucking weed for that matter. always seems to be the unsuspecting ones that let themselves undulate upon the highs of drugs, mouth puffing out smoke like that's all it can do. it was peculiar, and a slight bit awkward, when he had asked her to toss a joint, but she did so without questioning.

now, here they were, all three of them, polluting the air more than any manual vehicle could and filling their lungs with the acrid stench of weed that dragged a nip of addiction that none of them bothered to care about.

"man, i could do this everyday," max says, examining the spliff in his hand as if it was something so wonderful. y/n laughs and shakes her head, "nah, it may be good and all, but set limits for yourself."

he hums back, most likely too dazed to care about her cautions, and goes in for another drag. lando drags out a sigh as the smoke trickles out of his mouth like white silk.

"you good baby?"

lando nods, reaching a hand out to rest it on y/n's thigh, "yeah i just," it slides further up, with a trail of heat following as he leans into her ear and whispers lewdly, "wanna fuck you so bad."

she giggles and takes a long, burning drag of her own, blowing the vapour into lando's face.

thing is, lando is horny high. there's never a time where they smoke together and not fuck, but she doesn't ever complain because it's hot, sweaty sex that leaves them buzzing with satiation and wrapped in thick air of smoke mixed with the smell of what they'd done just seconds before.

y/n thought that lando had set aside that urge for the night, considering the additional presence with them, but he just doesn't give two fucks, and that alone makes her skin crawl with need.

his lips are licking sloppy kisses into her neck, targeting where he knows she'll let go, and her mouth opens limply, leaking with moans and sighs.

"fucking hell, mate— while i'm here?" max's incredulous voice punches out, and he swings his legs off the couch.

"you can leave, max," lando remarks dismissively, dick growing too hard, too fast. he slots the spliff into his mouth, inhaling so much that his eyes roll back, before dragging y/n into a messy, heated kiss. it's more of clashing tongues and teeth, smoke weaving through their skins.

the door slamming completely detonates lando, pushing y/n unto her back before stripping her leggings off, panties and all. a wisp of coolness breezes past her bare pussy, and she moans lightly, sucking in her spliff and letting go into the air.

"such a pretty pussy for me," lando slurs, grinning loopily as his eyes hang low and red. his thumb presses into her clit, forcing her back to arch as he rubs it hard and slow.

"fuck lando, keep going."

she can hear how her cunt squelches with his tamed movements, making her pussy throb, practically beckoning him closer. he leans in, blowing a puff of smoke unto her clit before completely attaching his mouth and sucking like he's fucking pussy drunk.

y/n brings a hand to his head, pressing and grinding into his mouth, swivelling her hips with desperation. it feels like heaven, paired with the warm electricity that thrums through her joints from the weed, and she just wants more and more and more.

lando's going feral at her pussy, pushing so deep into her that his nose pokes at her clit and stimulates it beautifully. his hands, spliff still between his fingers and spilling out threads of smoke, push her thighs up to her chest, bulging out her cunt more as it drips like a watering mouth.

"i could eat your pussy forever," he speaks into her pussy as she moans loudly, barely able to bring the joint up to her mouth.

he stops abruptly, evoking a whine from the lips of his girlfriend as he wedges the spliff in his mouth and unties the knot of his shorts, dragging it down. his dick immediately slaps against his abdomen, pulsating and flushed deep red, and he slowly jerks it off from the base all the way to the swollen tip.

"just fuck me, lan'," y/n exasperates, and he relents, pushing all the way in. their mouths drop as they release sighs of relief. y/n relishes in the way her pussy throbs with his dick, clenching and unclenching around him, causing lando to hiss.

"don't do that y/n, i don't wanna cum yet."

he wraps a leg around his waist before pulling back and completely drilling back into her cunt. his cock rakes against the muscles delicious, and y/n can feel every ridge and dip of his dick. her toes curl, eyes rolling as she inhales another drag, blowing out punctuated puffs of smoke as a result of lando's hips slapping against hers.

it's agonisingly snail-paced, but so deep that it compensates greatly for it and all she can do is lay there, all pretty, and take his cock.

lando attaches his lips unto her glimmering collar bones, riding her shirt up with his hands before latching unto her nipple. his tongue slurps and flicks at the skin, making y/n moan and squirm drunkenly.

then lando suddenly flips her unto her hands and knees and stops.

"hold your pussy open for me baby," he pants out, "need a couple drags."

her hands go behind her to spread her pussy apart, swollen, wet and gaping open for lando. he doesn't waste anymore time to slide his dick inside, thrusts just like before, but even deeper, and the girl is completely thoughtless. he smokes with much efficiency now, pushing and pulling his hips alone as his fingers work the spliff between his lips. pleasure from sex and being high sits heavily and perfectly in his limbs, head thrown back as he gradually lets y/n meet his thrusts.

"you're fucking yourself on my cock so well baby," lando moans, slapping a hand against her buttcheek as both their movements grow stuttered.

"i'm gonna cum, lan'— shit."

he feels her walls tighten before she lets go, mouth dribbling with airy sighs and groans as her hands fall to the sofa. lando is still on high, eager to feel y/n for longer and so he's switching their positions, the girl sitting on his thighs as his back rests against the sofa.

"ride me y/n."

"lan'," she goes to protest but doesn't, crawling up unto his dick and sinking down so smoothly and warmly, that lando loses all feeling in his legs.

he watches her bounce and grind on his cock, blowing smoke up into her face as she smiles and revels in the warm air. she looks so filthily unreal, high but so fucking horny for his dick, and he looks at her for so long without blinking that his eyes begin to burn.

"lan' i can't, i'm gonna cum," her thighs are shaking, siphoning trembles through his skin. he grins, slaps her ass teasingly, and tells her to let it go.

liquid trickles down his dick as he shoots his cum into her cunt, high pitched moans tumbling out of her as she's consumed by the high before flopping down unto lando.

"you did so well, baby."

#‧₊˚✩彡 planete.thinks: high!lando #lando norris #lando norris fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 romance #f1 smut #f1 fanfic

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 3 months

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Shipping Out

Pairing: Tom Bennett (World on Fire) x f!reader Warnings: Drinking, smoking, public sex, smut. Word count: ~1.5k

Summary: Just trust me on this one, and read all the way to the end.

Author's note: A little birthday treat for @bottlesandbarricades. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

The pub is crowded and noisy, the humidity of the air making her carefully coiffed curls cling to the back of her neck with perspiration. It’s not often that she frequents this side of Manchester, but the change of scenery is a refreshing switch of pace to the monotony of everyday life. Laughter, music and the clinking of glasses is preferable to the whir of the factory sewing machines.

She taps her red lacquered nails against the wood of the bar, wrinkling her nose at the stickiness of the wooden surface beneath her palm. If the frequency with which it’s wiped down is any indication of the attentiveness of the barkeep then she’s in for a long wait for a drink.

Sighing, she fishes her cigarette case from her handbag, flipping it open and plucking one out. No sooner has she placed it between her lips than a hand is clicking a flame to life before the end of it, turning it a glowing cherry red. She casts her gaze upwards through the steady plume of smoke, met by twinkling blue eyes and a cocky smirk, as the chivalrous stranger deposits his lighter back into his trouser pocket and regards her with a tip of his head.

“Thanks,” she says with an easy smile, taking the smoke between her fingers and exhaling a tight line of vapour up towards the ceiling.

“Don’t mention it,” he replies with a wink. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this then?”

God, that’s a terrible line.

She bites back a laugh, and decides to humour him. “Trying to get a drink, service in here is awful though.”

He purses his lips, eyes raking over her from head to toe, before nodding. “Can’t be having that.” Slapping a hand against the bartop, he calls out, “Oi! My lady friend and I are dying of thirst over here! Anyone serving?”

She raises her eyebrows in disbelief, but doesn’t have to wait long until a middle aged, irritated looking woman makes her way around the corner to the pair of them and grumpily takes their order. She’s long since finished her cigarette by the time the glasses are placed heavily down in front of them.

He doesn’t even ask what she wants to drink; she ends up with a gin and tonic, while he has a pint. It’s what she would have ordered anyway, but the bold presumption unsettles her regardless.

Sipping her drink, she relishes in the way the fizzy bitterness envelopes her tongue as she takes in what he’s wearing; navy blue slacks and a matching long sleeved smock, with a white striped collar.

“Shouldn’t you be on a boat somewhere, sailor?”

He grins, setting his glass down on a dog eared beer mat. “Just so happens I’ve been given a night of shore leave. I ship out again tomorrow.”

“Lucky me,” she says with a coy smile.

“If you play your cards right you might be.”

There’s that smirk again. She watches as he takes out a packet of Lucky Strike, perching one between his lips before offering one to her. She gratefully accepts, and he’s quick to light it for her, before doing the same to his own.

Every table is full, but she doesn’t mind, she’s content just to prop up the bar with him, ignoring the ache of her feet as they lapse into effortless conversation. He’s handsome, if a little overeager and she pays rapt attention as he entertains her with stories of his time aboard the HMS Exeter.

She’s on her third gin and tonic of the evening when he leans in to whisper to her.

“So, I might not see another woman for months after tonight. You gonna help me make it one to remember?”

Feeling her cheeks heat up, she giggles softly. “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find a way for you to thank me for my loyal service to our country,” he tells her, taking her hand and leading her out of the pub.

Allowing the gin to fuel her confidence, before she can change her mind, she lets him guide her outside. Even met with the sobering chill of the night air, she offers up no protest when he pulls her into the ginnel, the brickwork biting into her back as he pushes her up against the wall and captures her lips with her.

It’s a messy kiss, moist and desperate with need. He tastes of beer and tobacco as she welcomes his tongue against her own with parted lips, her fingertips sliding over the breadth of his shoulders and up into the cropped softness of his sandy coloured hair.

Pressing tighter against her, he groans appreciatively, mouth moving from hers to travel a path across her jaw and down her neck, as his hands find their way up her skirt. One teases the top of her stocking while the other presses against her clothed core, making her gasp.

His touch is hurried, not as thorough as she’d like, yet she feels a growing stickiness between her thighs regardless. The warmth of his fingers and lips against her makes her feel desired, and she is lightheaded, almost giddy, to see the effect she’s having on him.

Instinctively, she parts her legs wider as he dips beneath her knicker elastic, stroking eagerly through her folds.

“Christ, you’re soaked,” he rasps against the shell of her ear, “bet you’d let me fuck you right here, if I wanted, wouldn’t you?”

She bites her bottom lip, stifling her quiet whimper as his strokes against her cause her to throb. “Please…”

“Since you asked nicely…” He pulls back, blue eyes dark with intent as he makes quick work of unbuckling his belt, lowering his trousers and briefs just enough to free his erection.

Even in the darkness of the alleyway she can see that he’s thick and heavy, and he pumps lazily at himself, while his free hand reaches into his pocket.

“Leave that,” she tells him, as she spots the foil of the sheath wrapper.

He raises an eyebrow, pursing his lips as he stares at her. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” she whispers.

That’s all the confirmation he needs, slipping the packet away and surging forward. He pulls her underwear to the side, grasping the base of himself and pushes forcefully into her in one motion.

The movement knocks all the air from her lungs. Though she is wet, the public nature of their tryst leaves little time for him to prepare her fully, the luxury of time is not on their side, but in their desperation neither one of them cares. It stings, the fullness of him pushing against her, but it’s a pleasurable hurt.

Her breaths leave her mouth in shallow pants as he pistons his hips into her, lifting one of her legs to hook her thigh around his hip. She wraps her arms around his neck, clinging to him as he rocks into her, his forehead pushed up against hers.

“Filthy slut,” he grits out, “bet you’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”

“Y-yeah…” she whines, feeling his fingers press tighter into the meat of her thigh.

His brow furrows, and he grunts, his pace becoming sloppy and erratic. While the ache builds steadily inside of her, she worries he’ll finish before she does. The thought is fleeting, and as though he’s read her mind, the hand not gripping her thigh slips between them, fingers rubbing tight circles against her bud. She clenches around him, the added stimulation serving to intensify the tightening in her lower belly.

“That’s it,” he mutters, “come on.”

He pulsates inside of her, knocking against a spot that makes her tip over the edge suddenly, and she lets out a choked cry, a rolling wave of weightlessness travelling from her head to her toes. Her walls spasm around him and he pushes himself in to the hilt, a groan of relief escaping him as he spills himself inside of her.

They stay like that for a few moments, both catching their breath as their bodies relax. He grins as he pulls back slightly, before leaning in to pepper her face with soft, playful kisses.

“Tommy!” She huffs a laugh, swatting at his shoulder.

He slips out of her, stepping back to tuck himself away and fasten his belt. “Thought we weren’t supposed to be using our names? Part of the fun was pretending we don’t know each other.”

She scoffs, putting her gusset back into place as she feels his spend start to drip out of her, and smooths her skirt back down. “Think you ruined that when you ordered my drink without asking what I wanted. A stranger wouldn’t know I like gin and tonic!”

Tom rolls his eyes and chuckles, offering his arm for her to take. “Right, right. Well, I’ll remember for next time. Whatever you need for me to fulfill your fantasies.”

“Right now, my only fantasy is being at home in bed. That pub is horrible,” she tells him as they begin to walk down the street arm in arm.

“You wanted the uniform. I wasn’t gonna take us somewhere someone we know would see and take the piss.”

She laughs, gripping his arm tighter as she looks up at him. “Was fun though, wasn’t it?”

He gazes down at her with hooded eyes as they continue to walk. “I’ve had worse nights.”

#tom bennett x reader #tom bennett smut #tom bennett fan fiction #tom bennett x you #tom bennett x y/n #tom bennett imagine #tom bennett #ewan mitchell #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett fanfic #tom bennett fan fic #tom bennett world on fire #world on fire tom bennett #world on fire #world on fire fan fiction #world on fire fanfiction #world on fire fanfic #world on fire fan fic

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simjaeyvn · 8 months

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best friend's brother

pairing: jake x reader

summary: who knew your bond with your best friend's brother was a lot closer than you thought.

warnings: pussy eating, vaping, mentions of smoking, idk

inhale and exhale, it was easy. you pull the vape from your now parted lips handing it over to the man sitting beside you on your bed. you don't miss the way his eyes are trained on your lips as he takes the device from you. who would've thought you would be here with a man, alone in your room, vaping together. who would've guessed it'd be jake sim, your best friend's older brother. the two of you had known each other's existence of course, thanks to your amazing best friend but you'd only bonded over your likings of smoking and vaping. the reasoning was funny but you couldn't deny how fun spending time with him was.

every week he'd come over, one expecting the other to have a vape, i mean, that's the only reason you were friends, right? you noticed you enjoyed his presence far too much for your own liking but who were you to deny the butterflies that attacked your stomach every time you'd open the door to be met with his smile. a very cute smile.

you look over at him, vapour leaving his lips, his plump and kissable looking lips. you turn your head back to the front, where were these thoughts coming from? i mean, of course you wanted to fuck him but losing your best friend would mean losing your literal other half. you shuffle around waiting for him to pass it back to you. when he does, your hands touch and there's a bubbling feeling in your stomach. you look at his hands, admiring how beautiful they were but your thoughts get nastier as you imagine them inside of you. bringing the vape towards your lips, you inhale it and proceed to exhale. everything is fine, right? no. you felt hot and your panties felt wet. why did he have to be so attractive? you let out a sigh as you pass it back to jake.

"y/n?" he said, you really loved the way he said your name. "hm?" you mumble, trying your best to ignore the fact you can feel yourself physically getting wetter. "y'know, you're really hot." your head snaps to face him. with your lips parted and eyes widened, you stare at him as if he'd confessed to committing a crime. "what?" you say in a whisper, it wasn't intentional but it was the best thing that came out. "i really want you," he confesses, "it's okay if you don't see me that way but i just wanted to let it out." not knowing how to reply, you grab his hand and bring it down towards your covered thighs. pausing as you pull up your skirt and then you continue to bring his hand down to your now drenched panties. he gasps but the shocked expression on his face is now replaced by a smirk. you wanted him so bad. his fingers ghost over your clothed pussy, rubbing it in the gentlest way possible. you bite down on your bottom lip as you feel his hand go into your panties. "you're so wet angel." he frowns, as if he were upset that you didn't initiate anything earlier. “want you too jakey.” you whined, as he applied pressure onto your clit.

“really?” he asks, hovering above of you, hand still stuffed in your panties. “for how long, pretty?” jake sim and his stupid pet names, the stupid pet names that are making you go crazy.

“so long jakey, please eat me out.” you said in a breathy whine causing him to let out a low groan. how did someone get hotter each passing second?

“how could i say no to you pretty?” he leans down to kiss your lips for a slight second. you open your mouth to speak but when the cold air touches your now bare pussy as jake pulls down your panties, every thought is lost. he moves so his head is now right in front of your pussy and you can feel his hot breath on it. “what a pretty pussy.” he says and you can feel the vibrations of every word due to the unbelievable distance between his face and your core.

“jakey, please.” you choke out and he gives your clit a small kiss before you feel his tongue now on where you need him most. a small whimper escapes your lips and you grab onto his hair. he stuck his tongue in you as deep as he could and the noises that left you had you shocked. his arms lock your thighs in place so you wouldn’t close your legs. it felt like he was making out with your pussy. he starts softly sucking your clit and your eyes rolled back to what felt like another dimension. if jake sim was anything, he was the best pussy eater. leaving your clit he starts sticking his tongue into you again. the amount of pleasure you were feeling was almost criminal. you couldn’t even speak, incoherent words spilling from your lips.

jake was so addicted to your cunt, moaning against it as he ate you out like a starved man. he didn’t even notice the way he started rutting against your mattress to calm his aching boner.

“jakey,” you moaned, “i’m cumming.”

“cum on my tongue baby,” he mumbles, lips still attached to your pussy. you close your eyes, waiting for your high but he slaps your thigh causing you to squeal. “eyes open baby, let me see you all fucked out because of me.” you let out the neediest whine and reopen your eyes. you look down and see jake, his tongue doing wonders to you and looking back at you with the hungriest eyes.

“fuck,” you moan out as you finally reach your orgasm. you see your release on his lips and you whine once more as he licks his lips clean. he shuffles around so you’re now at eye level with each other.

“best pussy ever baby.” he says before capturing your lips in the hottest make out session you’ve ever experienced. you both get lost into the kiss but everything is interrupted by an annoying ringtone. “fucking hell,” he grumbles, reaching out for his phone.

“who is it?” you ask, pouting your lips. you were annoyed and frustrated, and horny.

“my sister for fucks sake.” you feel your heart sink a little, your best friend. how could you forget? you watch him raise the phone to his ear and an idea pops into your head. he was now sitting so you lifted yourself up and straddled his lap. clueless to the plan playing in your head; he rests a hand on your waist.

“what the fuck do you-” you push your bare core against his clearly hard boner. “fuck, what do you want.” he sends you a glare but doesn’t bother pushing you off as you continue grinding against him. “i’m busy, i’ll come later.” he says, impatiently waiting for the other end to hang up. your grinding doesn’t stop and you bite onto your hand, the fear of getting caught still lingers in your mind as if you’re not fucking yourself onto jake. “fucks sake, i’ll come.” you frown. he hangs up and kisses the frown plastered on your lips. “i‘m sorry baby, my family’s being dickheads.”

“it’s okay,” you breathe out, removing yourself off of his lap.

“i’ll make it up to you, okay? next time i’ll punish you for what you just did.” you giggle and send him a nod as he grabs his jacket off of your floor. “cya baby.”

“see you jakey.”

shoutout to my passionfruit mango lime vape for inspiring me!!!

#enha smut #enhypen smut #jake smut #jake sim smut #sim jake smut #enhypen jake smut #enhypen hard hours #sim jaeyun smut

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revacholianpizzaagenda · 3 months

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Apocalyptic squirreling

We're not, like, impaling these quotes like the proverbial shrike or anything, just hoarding them away in a nice stash. A collection of Disco Elysium tidbits about the end of the world compiled by @yekokataa and I, feel free to add!

...starting with the game's earliest teaser trailer.

(28 rather than 27 could be its own odd math, there's some miscounting in the text now and then just like there's the occasional typo, or it could follow the fact that the year of canon events was changed at some point. for that matter, the infamous 22 years to the nuke should be 21, like it originally followed that same 28 and wasn't edited - consistently, the variable it flags is ice.andre_hyper_rc_succ_28)

(this is an example of odd math to me, for the record, as it's 365x27 to the day. It could be it's the EXACT count and also that Elysium doesn't have leap years, but I would've expected a less precise number, personally)

Ours has actual six thousand years of history: it spans from its own version of the early Bronze Age (Perikarnassian period) to the early Middle Ages (Franconigerian period), to the Renaissance (Dolorian period), right up to a decade we call “The Seventies”. It’s a world like ours, one that has evolved culturally and technologically over widely varied periods of time. No Truce With the Furies takes place in the modernity of this world.

(source)

Q: How tight is the connection between the book and the game? Is it a Witcher-like situation? KURVITZ: Things in this world are connected to each other like things in our world are connected to each other – not like things are connected to each other in Star Wars. The book and the game share themes and historical developments. The book is set in the early seventies and the game is set in the early fifties. They are connected the way two stories set in our world would be. The fault-lines developing in the fifties are more apparent in the seventies. The situation has worsened, the political climate has shifted, but there is no Skywalker saga. The main story in Elysium is history.

(source)

yes yes we've all seen the nuke convo but let's put it here for completionism's sake

This connection - saying 22 instead of 27, or 28 as the variable reminds us - could seem strange based on game data alone, but it neatly follows the context of the book, which shows us that the bombing of Revachol is one and the same as the material beginning of the end of the world.

This one is also a fun book throwback, from apocalyptic Kurvitz self-insert to apocalyptic Kurvitz self-insert

(being appreciative of that kind of future just nets you a YEEEAGH)

more personally ominous than globally ominous but ominous nonetheless

("we become vapour" being, of course, the planned title of the eventual Elysium tabletop setting rulebook. sigh.)

This one's intriguing, isn't it? With an eye to Le Retour...

Her echoes of the other dialogue options are similarly ominous, for the record.

And we don't know if Nilsen had visions of his own (the man sounds well-acquainted with his Half Light, on behalf of the war crimes, so it's not... entirely out of the question) but we do know that his pocket calculator lap cat second-bestie very much did and could've been his source.

Also a strong book callback, among other things. Remember kids: object permanence!

Harry, all these quotes like this one sound like they would make sense for the actual guy who goes and blows it all up, not you personal-

...ah yes. Ambrosius looms... yeah buddy it sure is solemn AND historical, I'm afraid:

and of course, in closing:

🥲

...for the remaining 276 pages of Elysium tidbits about the end of the world, of course, over here.

#disco elysium #yekokataa #fayde-weaving #or something

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21wanderer · 16 days

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A career in music

“Hi Sebastian, sorry if I’m late.” I said entering the music room. I’ve had a busy day, with it being my final day of teaching.

The young man looked up from his guitar and smiled.

“No worries, teach, I’ve just been sitting jammin’ a bit while waiting.” Sebastian said innocently.

“Well, I’m not a teacher much longer,” I replied as I closed the door.

“Does it feel strange to have your last day today?” Sebastian asked curiously.

“Sort of… But it’s a great opportunity. I still wanted to talk to you about the strings, I’ve been pulling.”

“Yeah?!” Sebastian eyes lit up, he sat up straight, eager to hear, what I had to tell him.

“I’ve been talking to a producer at Alpha Centauri and showed him some of your music, and he is considering you-”

“What?! Are you fucking serious?! They really are going to let me-”

I had to cut off the excited young man, I handed him my phone; “Here, you can read the mail, he sent me, yourself.” He smiled a million dollar smile.

I handed him my battered old phone and pretended to be reading over his shoulder, as Sebastian excitedly read the quite long e-mail.

Unfortunately for Sebastian the mail wasn’t real, as a matter of fact, I had written it myself, but I just needed to be very close to him and have him be distracted. Then I jabbed the syringe into his neck.

The young man immediately lashed out, falling off the chair and dropping the phone in the process. He looked up at me with a shocked, but already somewhat vacant expression.

I immediately sat on top of him, pinning him down, pressing one hand against his mouth, whilst holding his right arm down against the floor. He was no doubt much stronger than me, but with the drug debilitating his body, it was much easier than expected.

“I’m sorry, Sebastian,” I said with apathy, “but this is the opportunity, I’m talking about.”

He tried retaliating with his left arm, but soon appeared to lose control of it, causing it to flail around randomly until the drug really kicked in.

When he stopped struggling, I got up and checked the door was locked, and then quickly took off my clothes, stuffing it into a plastic bag.

Sebastian was completely unconscious by that time, so I could take off his clothes with ease as well. His naked body was a sight to behold – young, strong and handsome, except slightly twisted as his insides had decayed.

I laid on top of what remained of Sebastian to squeeze out all the air and gunk still trapped in his body. It was like lying on a deflating balloon, a visible vapour left every orifice, and soon he was completely flat and empty.

“I’m done with teaching, now it’s time to take what should have been mine.” I monologued, as if Sebastian could still hear me.

I picked up Sebastian’s skin, shook it a little and marvelled at the result. Not hesitating any further I stretched his mouth wide and began slipping my feet inside. It was a struggle to get inside, but eventually I got my foot all the way down. The next foot was easier, and as soon as I could wiggle my toes within Sebastian’s feet, I could easily pull his strong legs into place as well.

I fed my dick into his hollow shaft, and it sprung to life, after which I could pull his gaping mouth over my butt. I pulled the stretchy skin further up my body, my own gut being replaced by Sebastian’s flat stomach.

“You’re by far the most talented musician I’ve ever taught, and I’m sick and tired of teaching, now I’m getting the music career, I always dreamt of when I was your age.”

It wasn’t getting any easier, but I was so close. Getting my arm inside his mouth, whilst being stretched around by abdomen was more difficult than anticipated, but I eventually managed to get one arm in, and the result spoke for itself. It was smooth, tan, strong… and mine! I flexed it a couple of times, and even stroked my arousal a couple of times… It was perfect.

After a little more struggling, I could plunge my other arm into his, and that was the last major obstacle.

With a simple movement, the chest and shoulders slid into place, and with only his vacant head dangling behind mine like a hood, I was almost done.

I gently ran my new hand over my new firm chest, feeling my pecs, both slabs of smooth and strong muscle.

“Just imagine how far the two of us can go together as one. I want the fame, the money, the-” I paused, that would be the last time, that I would hear my own voice. It was time to finish.

I stretched Sebastian’s mouth wide one last time, so it could swallow me whole. A tingling sensation rushed through my body and mind, as Sebastian’s mouth snapped shut around mine.

The sensation of darkness and unintelligible pictures and thoughts rushed through me, but suddenly there was light and clarity.

“FUUUUUUUUCK!” I growled triumphantly. Looking down my new body, I was beyond satisfaction. I instinctively looked up at the clock over the door. I had been here longer, than expected. I needed to slip into Sebastian’s routine, there would be plenty of time for self-gratification later, though I had to strongly repress the urges.

I put on Sebastian’s underwear, socks, t-shirt, pants, his signature necklace and wristbands. There was something particularly pleasing about claiming these personal keepsakes as my own. Finally, I slipped on his biker jacket, it was a perfect fit and still smelled strongly of leather and the sweat of the young man.

I picked up his guitar and the plastic bag with the last remaining traces of my old self.

I quietly left the room, wanted to head outside to get some fresh air and sun.

Everything seemed brighter and lighter outside the classroom as I stepped into the hallway.

But after having only walked about 200 metres, I felt unwell, as if the hallway was spinning. I needed to sit down, so I sat on the stairs leading to the upper floors. I suppose the transformation wasn't completely done yet.

As I sat here, waiting for the dizziness to go away, I decided to put this new body to the test. I strummed the guitar like it was the most natural thing in the world, and I could feel both my and Sebastian's talent streaming through my fingers and the notes they produced.

It was almost an unreal sensation. I was better than my old self, I was better than Sebastian, I was on a whole other level. The dizziness had precipitated, and I got back on my feet. A couple of girls passed by in the hallway, they had noticed my music, they smiled at me, and I flashed signature Sebastian’s grin right back at them. Once they were gone, I burst into laughter.

I grabbed my phone and gave a call to NewU Records, who were the ones I had actually gotten an agreement with, and they were going to make me their new star, all I had to do was give them a call.

Everything was set up for Sebastian. Record deal, new apartment and future career, all set up by me. From my savings I've even bought a white convertible, which I think would go extremely well with my new identity.

I took it for a spin later that night, like a totally insufferable, self-absorbed and enviable celebrity with the world at his feet. It feels so good, it feels so right. This is going to be sweet.

#male body transformation #male bodysuit #male body suit #body suit tf #male skinsuit #body theft #identity theft #life takeover #male transformation #male skin suit #body suit #bodysuit #fleshsuit #male tf #old to young

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whosmarii · 2 months

Text

Lay your hands on me.

ᯤ Title based on the song "if u think i'm pretty" by Artemas.

Summary: You're one of the competitors of the triwizard tournament. You knew the competition was harsh, but the stress your feeling is certanly unexpected. So your... friend? Theodore decides to be your stress relief.

tw: Sexual content, my first time writting smut lol, no corrections made yet.

*Reader is fem

*There's a Game of Thrones reference in here, try to find it!!!

Since you opened the golden egg you knew what you had to do. The gloomy sounds coming out of the egg only made you think one thing. Sirens.

It is said that beauty comes with pain. Pain limit us to do certain things.

Sirens have the most beautiful voice a living being could have, but it is limited to only underwater. Due to that, now you were naked in the prefects bathroom, sinking in the comforting feeling of the foamy water.

You had time to open the egg, but, for now you wanted to relax. These last weeks were exhausting to the least.

You let the hot, and now reeallyy foamy water undo the knots in the back of your neck, without noticing that your friend, Theo, was staring at you right at the other side of the room.

You looked ethereal in his eyes. The foamy water was making your boobs shine and the hot breath was making your not wet skin sweating. You had your eyes closed letting yourself sink in the water as a way to feel better. Theo had a better idea. A better idea to make you stress free. A better idea that would make you feel much better than that warm water.

He would make you sink on his cock instead. He would try to make his body sink completely inside of you of how close you two were.

"I figured you would be here vita mia" (my life)

"Oh my...well I didn't figured you would be here Theo"

"You're stress. I know you enough to decipher your faces" he says as he approached tha bathtub full of bubbles and steam that covered your naked body. "I've seen the littles lines between you eyes and the cute pout on your lips when you survived the dragon. You are thinking to hard, and it's making you look tired my sun and stars... let me help you."

He was already taking his shirt off, and you were already making space for him.

In seconds, seconds that you didn't even notice have passed, Theo was naked inside the water. With his hands roaming your body. You moved your head forward to kiss him, but he moved away.

eh, what¿

You gaved him an inquisitive look. And he just smiled at you before lifting your body out of the water. Making you sit naked in the edge of the giantic bath. "Stand up...please." he pleadead you with a spark in his eyes.

You didn't understand what was happening, it made you slightly uncomfortable the thought of being completely naked and exposed to someone in this way. But the water that was soaking his face, his lashes and curls and the vapour that was leaving his half-open lips maked your brain go white. You stood up, looking right into his eyes.

"Impeccabile" (flawless) he whispered. It was like the word escaped his mouth, it wasn't meant for the outside world. It was just for him, it was his observation.

" Sei perfetta mio sole e mia stella" (you are perfect my sun and stars) he almost whispered that too. That one was suppose to be for your ears only.

While he said that his hands were already imprisioning your body. Pulling you back to the water right in front of him. Right were you belonged.

" I'm gonna fuck you so good baby" Theo said in your ear whereas his right hand was massaging you right boob and his left hand was already stretching you out.

"Lay your hands on me Theo, please" You could feel his fingers thrusting inside of you. You could feel every single detail of his hand on your cunt. You could feel his hot breath and sloppy kisses on your neck. And, you could feel him pushing your body impossibly close to him and his erection.

"Nono, today i'm gonna teach you how to scream in italian tesoro mio" (my treasure)

He was desperate. You were too.

It was no playtime. So he did a favour for the two of you, and pulled everything in.

You shout a small, quick pain sound. It definitly was painful but the realief you felt was more intense than any pain.

"move, please, just move now, i need you" you said fast and in complete need.

"muoviti per favore, ho bisogno di te, thats how you say it"

Theo wasn't moving. Was he really expecting you to say that in that perfect and hot italian accent.

" Ho bisgno di te Theo, per favore" (I need you Theo, please) It wasn't perfect, but it was for him.

Theo went feral after that, the water was splashing and the movements were messy.

He wasn't going fast, he was going deep. His dick was full inside you, touching you cervix every single time he thrust back into you.

You never felt so full in your life like right now with Theo. He was everywhere. It was too much, you were feeling too much. And were is god, you really need to be saved cause he is breaking your body and putting it back togheter in one single thrust.

You moved your hands to your clit, you felt sore, your clit was sore and he didn't even touch it yet. The hot water was making it unbereable for your body to resist and right before your fingers could fullfil your needy self Theo grabs your wrist putting two of your fingers inside your mouth. Shushing your moans and whines.

"I told you I was gonna help you. You only do one thing, metti semplicemente quelle adorabili dita in bocca, stai zitto e sii carino per il mio cazzo." his thrust went deeper if that was even possible and his thumb was rubbing circles on your clit aplying the perfect amount of pressure.

"Did you catch that darling? I said the only thing you have to do is put those little pretty fingers of yours in your little pretty mouth, stay silent and look pretty for my cock"

That was enough for you. The deep thrust, the pressure on your clit, the hot feeling that embraced you whole body and all that italian dirty talk pushed you to an extremely intense orgasm, for a solid 30 seconds you were numb, you felt like you could have died of how strong it hit you.

And without you noticing, Theo had cum too, inside you, filling you so good that now not only you could feel a hot feeling outside your body, but inside.

A few minutes in silence have passed. You could swear the sound you were making 10 minutes ago were still ecoing in the room.

" You should open that egg now, cause i'm fucking you again and again till you learn all the idioms of the world"

Yeah... you should open the egg now.

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animentality · 3 months

Text

I haven't been in act 3 in a while, and I'm actually dying at this Orin line when you say you're allied with Gortash.

"You suck up the tyrant's vapours like a babe sucks milk."

Like.

Girl.

Excuse me?

Suck???? Milk???????!

Orin just told the dark urge they suck Gortash sloppy style right in front of their friends. She doesn't give a fuck. Christ.

Also I can't remember. I could have sworn this was where she's supposed to say the line about how Gortash "always knew how to twist your mind matter, tangle you in his cords" or something like that.

Is this different from how it was before or am I nuts?

I might be nuts.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #enver gortash #dark urge #durgetash #if anyone knows pls message me

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rraizel · 3 months

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you- through hyunjin's eyes.

words: 1,034 pairing: hwang hyunjin x gn reader genre: fluff, artsy hyunjin, quite romantic really, artsy hyunjin is literally so in love with you.

The Louvre is especially crowded today. People cascading down the stairs in crowds as you make your way up with your lover's hand in yours on a relatively colder Paris Thursday evening. The pair of you are making your way to the Greek exhibition section of the museum.

"Oh look we're here." Hyunjin's words come out as a sparse cloud of white vapour from his pink lips as he takes your hand and leads you to the section you both have been looking for. Upon entering you're greeted with a plethora of delicately crafted statues. You let out a soft exhale in wonder as your gaze observes the statues. "It's amazing how stone figures can look so delicate and silky.", your face stretched into a wide eyed smile as you took in the sight Hyunjin hummed in agreement as he shifted his gaze towards your fascinated and awestruck features.

Hyunjin has his gaze fixated on you through the scarf around his neck that covers the near lower half of his face. As you both strolled away around the gallery, you admired the art, with your hand in his, while Hyunjin was rather oblivious of the artistry of the porcelain statues, giving you only a few hums and chuckles as his response, every time you asked him anything rhetorical about the intricate physiognomy of the statues. Make no mistakes here, Hyunjin is a lover and admirer of almost any form of art by his heart. But today, at this very occasion, standing in the world's most prestigious art museum,

he can't help himself.

The only art capable of capturing and holding his gaze present in this very gallery, is you. No art satisfied his heart, quenched his thirst now that he knows what it's like to be able to look at you at your rawest.

Your eyes widening every time you make your way to a new statue, right before crinkling into a smile as they sparkle in exhilaration. The curve of your eyelashes that surround your sclera, creating the faintest shadow due to the lighting. The faint yet visible rosy red shade of your nose, shining under the lights of the gallery. The silhouette of your hair right above your eyes as they fall in uneven strands, framing your face. The rising of your awestruck eyebrows at the sight before you. The round of your cheeks when they rise as you smile your widest not caring if you look good or not. The lopsidedness of your true smile revealing your teeth that adorn your face perfectly. Every little bump, spot and pore of your skin. He could never get tired of it all.

Hyunjin's heart gave him the impression that it could explode. He loved it. He loved every little aspect of you, that maybe you haven't even discovered. His heart feels so full at times like this. You're a breath of fresh air, a healing breeze on a tiring day. You're just so human and real. Every little spot, bump, hair, line, curve and hollow added to the masterpiece that's you. He couldn't care less about the symmetry. He loves all your little details. Every time he has painted you, with or without clothes, he's just left breathless by the end of it, you're just so perfect, those brush strokes could never do you justice. He thanks his lucky stars everyday to be able to be this close to you, to be able to know you to the extent he does.

"Hyunnie are you feeling okay?" you squeeze his hand when you spot him quieter than usual.

"Huh? Yes yes. I'm fine I was just observing the statue a little too deeply." he snaps out of his trance with an embarrassed chuckle. "You haven't said much since we've been here, is there something I can help with?" you ask, placing your hand on his cold cheek. "I promise, I'm fine baby. I can get too immersed sometimes you know, it's nothing more." He reassured you with a firm squeeze on your hand that he had been holding. You giggle in response, "Oh I see my boyfriend's nerdy artist side is really enjoying this visit then. I'm glad." That full and whole feeling in his heart intensifies at the sound of your hearty giggle. He pulls you close gently by the waist, to plant a kiss on your forehead, "Can I take pictures of you here?". His breath fans your lips as he seeks permission, "Just my personal collection." You smile at his cuteness and nod in approval.

The next few minutes are accompanied by flash less clicks of his camera and your wide varieties of poses. You're not that great of a poser, so he helps you and guides you through it as usual. He does love it when you do your own thing though. He thinks it captures your essence the best. When he's done he gives you a thumbs up and you make your way back to him to look at his captures. He shows them to you with pride, "You're so gorgeous, hun." he mutters as he continues showing you his clicks. "It's mostly just your photography." you chuckle. He rolls his eyes at you a little and shakes his head.

Hyunjin is a lot of things but something he isn't is a verbally expressive person. He struggles to say the right things, at the right time and voice exactly how he feels despite being a deeply emotional person. So he always tries to show you what he sees through the clicks of his camera, a few poems here and there and paintings and sketches carefully hand drawn with love. He never thought of them as much, but this was his way of expressing his whole hearted admiration and love for you. He swears one day he'll make you see yourself in all your glory just the way he sees you.

Hyunjin puts his hand under your chin and makes you look up to face him, he places a tender and lingering kiss to your mouth that catches you off guard.

"These pixels could never begin to interpret your beauty, and I'm just an amateur with a camera, Y/N."

#skz #stray kids fluff #stray kids #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin fluff #stray kids hyunjin #skz fluff

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 6 months

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gojo always seems to be off in a world of his own.

a little detached, you think. awkwardly long limbs constantly on the move, eyes stuck in a direction no one else can follow, a trajectory you don’t think even he knows. one blink and he's gone, just like that. too far ahead, too far above, even on the occasions he slows down and lets you catch up.

flimsy, maybe. like he’ll get carried away by the breeze when spring rolls around. like he’d turn into seafoam if you reached out and touched him.

satoru gojo is an anomaly, a blurry cluster of stars. or maybe more like a planet, big and blue, spinning around its own orbit, out of reach for every single star in the sky.

high and mighty, cocky and cool. silly and bright. but there's a softness to him when he's alone, you’ve come to learn; something that almost seems fragile, under the light of the moon, when the dark sky casts a shadow to obscure the contours of his face and no one’s around to notice if his smile isn't as big as it should be.

no one except for you, anyhow.

(you wonder if your presence is really that inconsequential to him.)

the beach is entirely empty, save for you and gojo. and summer’s ending, burning into little cinders, sputtering out before your very eyes.

tokyo is just beginning to dip its toes into autumn, the frost and chill, the hiss of the biting wind. the rusting of leaves, contaminated by a muddy hue, turned orange and brown and red beneath your heavy feet; littering the murky, empty streets of the rainy towns you cross. smelling of rotten apples and cinnamon, old books and burning wood.

it’s dark out. painted a thick gray, the sky is blanketed by heavy clouds, the entire world hidden behind that coating of wool. not a single sliver of starlight slips through, but there's a comfort to it, that feeling of being cocooned — safe and warm. a feeling cruelly stripped away by the nipping of the wind at your bare skin, but you digress.

everything smells of saltwater. a little like rotten fish. every breath you exhale turns into a flurry of vapour, mingling with the breezy seasalt of the open air; scattering away into the thin layer of mist all around you, until you can’t tell which is which.

and a sense of foreboding sinks into your veins.

(you look out at the jagged rocks piercing the surface of the sea, and dully wonder how they’d feel piercing your skin.)

something shivers, to your right. a flicker of movement, a barely audible chatter of teeth. and then, a white puff of vapour.

”man, it’s cold.”

gojo looks displeased.

only vaguely, a little crease between his eyebrows as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his puffy baseball jacket. moving his feet a little, to warm up, snowy tufts of white hair tousled by the ocean breeze. his shoes are muddied by the wet sand, but he doesn't seem to mind.

a soft scoff leaves your lips, mostly harmless. maybe just a little smug. ”told you,” you click your tongue.

gojo whines. his sunglasses are starting to fog up, you notice. ”it’s still summer!” he pouts. ”i thought the sea would be nice and breezy!”

an unimpressed look smooths over your features. gracing him with a raise of your brow, you don’t fully manage to bite back the soft smile that follows. don’t even really attempt to.

it’s been a long day. evidently not long enough for gojo, seeing as he dragged you down here — even though he knew it meant missing the train you were supposed to board after successfully finishing your mission. he just had to get a closer look at the sea. just for a moment or two.

and he was insistent, persuasive. awfully whiny. assuring you that he’d be quick, that you wouldn’t miss the next one.

(what made you agree was simply the thought of spending some more time with him. not like you could ever tell him that, though.)

so there you stand. two juveniles, shivering and shifting from foot to foot, on the brink of nightfall, the edge of summertime. watching the sea stretch out into infinity, across the gap between this world and the next. a murky blue. easy on the eyes.

the noise of the sea fills your ears; waves crashing into sand, the whistling of the wind, seagulls crying out in the distance. and faraway, the chatter of a rattling train. a cacophony of sounds, buzzing and crackling, melting together. scattered across the beach are countless tiny white seashells, and the occasional green glimmer of drift glass — mermaids’ tears, shed for lost sailors, or so you’ve heard.

you wonder if the mermaids ever shed tears for lost sorcerers. probably not.

a shiver runs through your body, down to your cold hands, the tips of your fingers. reddish and itching for warmth. you tuck them into your pockets with a breathless exhale, still shaking a little.

in truth, you and gojo aren’t very close. you’d like to call him a friend, but it's kind of hard; when he's so enamored with suguru, so animated around shoko. with you, he always seems kind of —

stiff?

or maybe more like bored.

he doesn't laugh as loudly, doesn’t act as cocky. doesn't flaunt his knowledge on sorcery, and isn't as clingy as he is with the other two.

(you've never liked people touching you. it's not hard for others to discern, with how you flinch away when they get close.

still, you can't help but feel a little jealous when you see him tugging suguru and shoko around.)

deep within your chest, like a stunted seaweed, sprouts a tiny pang of disappointment. it’d be nice if you could grow closer, you think. just a little would be fine.

”i like the sea.”

you turn your head.

gojo looks a little lost in thought. gaze trained on that expanding ocean before you, those splotches of blue and gray, the waves that bruise the edge of the sand. forlorn, maybe.

a hum buzzes in your dry throat. ”do you?”

”mm.” little white breaths slip from his lips. you wonder if they’d taste as salty as the air. ”’ts nice.”

a silence stretches out before you. delicate, like a sheet of glass. gojo picks at a piece of lint on his sleeve, and you shift from foot to foot. then he closes his eyes — a flutter of his dewy eyelashes.

”kinda makes you feel like everything’s about to end, huh?”

you look at him, but don’t see anything. a single glimpse of his closed eyes is all you gain from the glance you cast his way, but it’s not enough. not enough blue to fall into, no expression to savour. he looks the same as always.

but you’ve never heard his voice sound like this before.

”… end?”

and with that, they flicker open. there it is, you think. that vibrant blue. only to be obscured once more, when he turns to you fully, a smile playing at his glossy lips. ”don’t think so?”

a second passes. you look forward.

what you see is as follows: waves upon waves upon waves. the same blue and gray, as far as the eye can see. a sea big enough to drown each and every one of your worries.

something comes over you. a sensation of loneliness, something close to longing. a feeling of being rather lost. searching for something. your heart feels heavy, an anchor sunk to the bottom of your gut. little fish nipping at your ribcage.

your eyes trail over those jagged rocks, again. the mermaids’ tears, that all-consuming sea, right in front of you. like it could open its maw and devour the world.

you think of the lost sailors.

(one jump and it’s all over.)

a breath. salty on your tongue. ”… i guess i get it,” you whisper. a soft murmur, mingling with the mist.

silence.

out of the corner of your eye, you see gojo shift. one moment he’s looking at you, the next he’s staring at the sea. in tandem, the two of you, stuck within that shade of blue. and you think he looks a little mesmerized, like he’s seeing something not even he can fully comprehend.

(maybe he just hasn’t had many chances to go to the beach before. something to do with being a clan kid, maybe?)

but then he clears his throat, hands moving to brush some sand off his puffy jacket and jeans. turning on his heel, hair ruffled by the breeze. he tries to sound chipper, but there’s something else there. you don’t know what it is, but…

”anyway,” he chirps. ”let’s go. we can still make it to the next train if we hurry.”

you look at him. his retreating figure, a head of white hair, surrounded by mist. a little like an apparition. then you turn towards the sea.

”… nah, that’s fine.”

a pause.

gojo stills, just about to take the first step forward. but you stay rooted in place; unmoving, staring at the blue before you, a deep longing reflected in your eyes.

”let’s stay a little longer,” you hum, unsure of where the words came from. but you know you aren’t ready for the moment to end, just yet. that you aren’t quite ready for summer to pass.

…

all he does is stare, for a second or two. attempting to find some humour in your voice, you assume, any signs that you might just be joking. but he doesn’t find it. uncharacterstically silent, gojo stays frozen in place.

then he puffs out a breath — amused.

”you wanna freeze to death?” he grins, and you can hear it in his voice. you turn to face him, almost smiling. a little cheeky.

”you’ll warm me up, no?”

the words fall from your lips before you can think to reel them in. meant to sound a little snarky, you think, something akin to a chuckle — but instead come out sounding a little too much like an honest request.

the tips of your ears feel a little warm, suddenly.

a sense of surprise smooths over the contours of gojo’s face, and his grin falters. you can’t see his eyes, can’t tell if they widen or not, but his lips part, and you note that they look soft.

and it’s back. that grin. toothy, boyish. his cheeks are rosy, from the chill of the air, or so you assume. then he’s taking a couple strides forward, broaching the distance between you.

he throws an arm over your shoulder. a heavy weight against you, grounding, causing you to stumble. friendly, tugging you close. into his orbit.

(no infinity, you note. you can feel his body heat seeping through the fabric.)

it's nice. he's tall, and he's warm. cozy, protecting you from the bitter cold, like your own personal furnace. no wonder suguru never catches any colds, with someone like this draped over him all the time.

gojo speaks. there’s a sweetness to his voice, a mellow kind of contentment; bubbling up like seafoam, spilling from his glossy lips. you can feel his warm breath on your skin.

”well, duh.”

when your gaze falls on him, he's already looking at you. leaning closer, sunglasses slipping a little further down the bridge of his nose — enough to expose the blue of his eyes, the tiny splotches of white scattered across his aquamarine iris. like a cracked marble. or a summer sea.

he’s speaking again, and you almost don't hear it. distracted by those cracked marbles, the strawberry red of his cheeks, the warmth shared between you. the pitter patter of your heartbeat, like waves crashing against the sand. mesmerized. not daring to look away.

almost like you’d cease to exist, were he to close his eyes. like your existence hinges entirely on the blue of those irises.

(and maybe it does.)

he nods towards the sea, and grins. a mischievous glint in his eyes. ”wanna take a dip?” he asks, and you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. it makes you laugh, either way.

”do you want to freeze to death?” you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. subtly angling your body closer to his, hoping he won’t notice.

gojo honest to god giggles, at that, and you fear your knees might give out beneath your weight. fuck, has he always had dimples? why are you only noticing them now?

”hehe. i just think it'd be fun!” he chirps, still draped over you like an overgrown cat, and you almost find yourself saying yes. just to keep the summer from ending, keep him from being swept away by the breeze.

but summer is ending. slipping away, second by second, like two juveniles drowned by an ocean wave. never to be found. and in comes autumn, the smell of rotting apples, the crunch of sand beneath your feet; an arm over your shoulder, an intake of breath. the taste of nice, crispy air on your tongue.

a chuckle flows from your lips. all you see before you is blue, a murky shade, a vibrant hue. you think you could drown in it. you’re not sure you’d mind.

”maybe next time,” you whisper.

gojo’s eyes widen. ever so slightly, barely enough to even notice, until they bloom — with a kind of bubbly excitement. unconcealed giddiness. there’s something awfully precious about it, like a child buying cotton candy at their first fair. it makes you want to tuck him into your pocket. keep him safe.

you like him, unfortunately. inevitably. you think you may even like him a lot, a little more than you should. a little more than he could reciprocate.

satoru gojo. high and mighty, cocky and cool. silly and bright. a seaborne boy with his very own orbit, born to carry the weight of the world, spinning so close that you can almost delude yourself into thinking he feels the same.

almost.

(gojo glances at your lips. he wonders if they’d taste as salty as the air.)

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mncxbe · 7 months

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What looking in their eyes feels like♡

𝒇𝒕. 𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊, 𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂, 𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒛𝒂𝒘𝒂

°☆○

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊

like a hot summer afternoon, peaches ripe in trees and cicadas choiring in the tall grass.

Legs draped over the sides of your wooden chair, you rose your gaze from the book you were reading to take in the image of your boyfriend.

Dazai rose a pearly white cup of coffee to his lips and sipped the chocolate coloured liquid. A little bit of foam lingered at the corner of his mouth and you reached your thumb to wipe it.

Dazai flinched at the sudden touch, giggling lightly. His brown eyes flaked with specs of gold glimmered in the soft evening light. Beautiful, breathtaking.

For someone who wished so strongly to die, he surely seemed to bear the nectar of the Gods, the essence of life right behind his eyelids, pooling in his irises.

"You want a sip?" he asked, handing you the cup and you took it.

After taking a big sip you placed the drink on the little glass table next to you.

Dazai's eyes were still on you, warm, happy, serene. His hand slid up your bare leg, gently caressing your skin.

"My sweet bella..." he hummed, words that you knew were an unspoken "I love you"; and you gave his fingers a squeeze before returning to your book.

In the background, the August sun sank into the city; bright and vibrant like your boyfriend's eyes.

𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂

like galaxies colliding, lonely starts somewhere in the depths of the universe.

As you laid among the cold sheets, limbs entangled with your lover's, you caught a glimpse of the lamplight that filtered through the windows in his eyes. During the day, his eyes seemed lifeless, a cold, dark grey of stormclouds; but at night they shone bright like diamonds.

And all for you.

You lazily traced your fingertips along his cheekbone, causing him to raise a brow in confusion.

"Nothing. I was just looking at your eyes. they're pretty" you said in silvery voice, digits intertwining with his atop the cotton pillow case.

"How so?" he asked, so innocently, a tone reserved only for you during these intimate moments.

You took a moment to breathe in, the aroma of your mixed scents bubbling up inside your lungs.

"They're like the North Star. When I look into your eyes I know I'm home." you smiled.

Akutagawa only sighed in response, pressing his lips to your temple.

"You're my home too, darling" he mumbled against your hair before closing his eyes, drifting into a sweet slumber.

𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊

like a land of a thousand fires, crying lightning and gold.

Facades. Masks put on to suit his status as the captain of the Hunting Dogs and one of the world's most fierce soldiers. Cold gaze, sharp like a knife and bearing such intensity that any man could crumble; at almost any time of the day.

But as soon as he entered your home, a sanctuary where you waited for him, all rage and iciness melted away from his gaze.

You could see the change, his stern expression slowly shifting to something warm and kind as you beckoned him to join you on the couch.

"How was work?"

"Tiring. I sure hope you had a better day than mine" he said in a spent tone, taking a seat next to you.

"It was indeed" you added and he smiled so gently that for a moment you forgot all sins of his past.

Sighing, your partner leaned against your chest. His eyes seemed glazed, distant, puddles of amber swirling with worry as he fixated a spot on the wall.

Taking notice of his tense state you combed your fingers through his hair, shushing him.

"You ought to stop worrying so much you know. You'll get wrinkles" you said playfully, earning a smile from him.

"I think it's a bit too late for that, don't you think?"

Still, when your gazes met it was so vivid and tender; citrine coloured irises sparkling with love and hope for better days.

𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒛𝒂𝒘𝒂

like looking at a crystal lake during winter, a thin layer of ice on top

Thin coils of milky vapour rose from the cups of tea before you, placed on round plates on the table.

On the other side of the desk, your partner stood motionless, gazing through the window of his office. No matter how busy his schedule was he always made time for your little afternoon tea, a scared ritual of yours that you'd been indulging in since the beginning of your relationship.

As you took in his features you couldn't help but notice how his eyes mirrored the sky outside; metallic blue, longing.

Fukuzawa's gaze then slid to you, fingers wrapping around the brim of his cup as he sipped the sweet liquid inside. Even after years of being with him, a cold shiver ran down your spin whenever your gazes met during such moments.

It was somehow like an ice burn, but it was a feeling you adored. The look in his eyes however didn't lack tenderness as he reached over the table and held your hand, affectionately running his thumb over your soft skin.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #bsd headcanons #dazai bsd #fukuzawa x reader #bsd fukuzawa #bsd akutagawa #akutagawa x reader #bungo stray dogs akutagawa #president fukuzawa #fukuchi bsd #ochi fukuchi #bsd fukuchi

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brainrotdotorg · 1 year

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man when writing the skills i really do have to make a conscious effort to not like... completely strip them of their surprisingly nuanced properties and just boil them down to easily digestible traits. electrochemistry horny. logic cold and calculating. inland empire daydreamy. composure calm and collected. endurance big and strong. because that's not the case!

when i looked on fayde to do research, almost all of them said something that surprised me. they interact with each other, reference each other, say and do shit that isn't just relegated to their personal field. interfacing makes a slight to harry about honor points. (749) the more brutal skills can have moments of tenderness- pain threshold laments how "Before you is a temple of pain that knew little tenderness in life." (547) even better is what comes through when they don't succeed-- shivers checks can fail, and it isn't always monumentally mysterious and graceful.

half-light isnt just angry. he's scared. he wants to protect harry, he wants to keep harry safe, at any cost, hes a cornered animal. but he also encourages harry to dance in the church. (318) empathy isnt gentle and demure; if you fail a check while talking to sylive, empathy will get it in his head that he is doing the right and caring thing by telling garte that she's "riding the cock carousel". esprit de corps isnt just a radar that plings every time something happens to an officer. there is a sentimentality to the way he speaks, about the precinct, about kim. even though each skill is there to serve a purpose, those purposes aren't as narrow as you may think. they are just as multifaceted and interesting as harry himself, in both success and failure.

i think there's no better example of how the skills are harry during the dream sequence. volition says he's sorry, that he's just as fucked up and full of shit as harry is, that he doesn't know what he's saying or doing. this pillar of morality and hope and goodness, admitting he's just another fragment of harry's splintered mind. reaction speed is heartbroken when dora doesnt accept the figurine. suggestion says he should be put in front of a firing squad.

theyre all parts of harry, and while making them more independent and unique from him is fun (i love to do it and do it all the time) they are all doing what they think is right for him, no matter the given situation. it's easy to just write rhetoric as a flat-out commie and be done with it or have savoir faire be an unequivocally smooth operator (and there's nothing wrong with it either) but I think if you want to write or draw stuff about the skills, do a little bit of digging in their lines. not only because its a treasure trove of content, but because it gives valuable insight into so many things- Harry's mind, how he sees the world, and how to develop these skills as independent characters, if thats your bag.

(and don't be afraid to get weird with it. to quote conceptualization: "You want something *experimental* -- intramuscular puppetry, hyperrealistic vapour-porn, meditation opera...")

#the skills #disco elysium

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nc-vb · 11 months

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𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭

this is a repost from my old blog! and also the first fic i wrote for tumblr lol.

pairing -> vinsmoke sanji x reader

notes -> feminine terms (mellorine, mademoiselle); kind of based off of a scene from that vr one piece game; y/n is a new straw hat member i guess + her noble family kinda sucks; kind of rushy bc i didn’t feel like writing a backstory lol; honourifics are used; maybe a little suggestive…? just in case

wc -> 1.2k

“What a cute kitchen!”

Your eyes can barely contain their sparkle as you take in the final room of the tour. Smiling, you’d realize it’s already occupied by the light chopping sounds coming from the left of the entrance. You approach him from behind, tapping him on the shoulder. “There you are, Sanji-san,” you’d gently called, not wanting to startle him in the middle of his food prep.

“Ah, _______-chan!” Throwing a careful grin of his own over his shoulder to you, he sets down his knife at the edge of the cutting board to turn completely around to you. “I was wondering when you’d make your way in. You’re just in time – I’m making lunch!”

“I’m sorry it wasn’t sooner,” you apologize with a small laugh. “I think Nami was just a little… excited? Relieved? That she wasn’t “the only woman” on the Merry anymore, I mean. Her grand tour felt more like a tea date.”

“No apologies necessary; making you feel at home with us comes first. Do you?” he asks.

“I do,” you reply easily. “Our captain encouraging me to toss a chair at my window to escape was probably one of the first signs of that one for me.”

Sanji chuckles. “I’m glad. Well, what do you think?” He raises his arms from his sides, inviting you to take in his safe haven.

“It’s quite lovely, as I suppose kitchens normally are?” You glide your fingers across the island, enjoying how smooth the surface had felt on your skin. “This is my first time being inside one.”

“Your first time?” Sanji repeats, genuinely shocked.

Nodding, “I was never allowed inside ours,” you explain. “My parents were… very conservative and traditional in their ways. It may have stemmed from them being apologists of the World Government and the Celestial Dragons, but they always said that entering such places would be beneath our name.” You sigh deeply. “I always knew they were wrong.”

For a moment, Sanji is quiet, the slight tapping of your shoes and the bubbling of the boiling liquid in the pot overtop the stove the only sounds filling the room.

“I didn’t know you were also the chef until Nami mentioned it in her tour,” you add, your voice soft. “How wonderful.” You sniff the air, your lips quickly rising once more in appreciation of the scent filling the kitchen. “Wow… That smells incredible.”

Sanji’s lips part in awe at you, watching you move closer toward the stove. Not wanting to hang your head directly over the pot, you waft the vapour closer to you, inhaling deeply.

“What do you call this, Sanji-san?” You gesture into the pot. “I’m not sure I’ve ever had this before.”

“… it’s called Sugo all’amatriciana,” he says, making his way to join her side. “A sauce made of tomatoes.” From the drawer to the right of the stove, Sanji steals a spoon. “Panchetta. Pecorino romano.” Having given the sauce a stir with a ladle, he dips the spoon inside to scoop some up. “Onion and garlic.” A hand cradling beneath the spoon’s curve, “and a bit of basil.” He lowers it toward you, and your blink. “Try it.”

“Really? Could I?”

Sanji’s lower lip curls inwards, pinching the inside flesh between his teeth when you lean forward to blow lightly on the sauce. Lips parted, you barely release a breath, one just strong enough to begin cooling it, before taking it into your mouth and sucking back the contents in the spoon.

“Sanji-san… this is delicious!!” you gush after a moment spent savouring the flavour. “It’s the perfect amount of garlic, and the pecorino tastes so fresh–” You hum almost excitedly at the leftover flavour on your tongue. “You really are such an amazing chef.”

Sanji’s grip on the handle falters, the metal slipping from between his thumb and forefinger and clattering to the floor, his other hand coming up to clap over his own mouth. Immediately, you’re turning to the cook with worry.

“Sanji-san, what’s the matter?” you ask, reaching out to him. “Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry if I did, I-I–”

“I…” You frown, the skin of your forehead bunched together in concern. “I just didn’t expect you to be so cute.”

“C-Cute?!” you exclaim, your face instantly exploding with heat.

Sanji swears his entire body stalls at your expression; like a set of cogs that’s lost one of its gears, the chef goes still, but his heart continues to pound beneath his ribs. As you attempt to collect yourself, Sanji slowly extends his hands out toward you, and places them on your shoulders.

“San… ji-san?”

“______,” he practically whispers, head tipped down toward yours. You swallow, nerved by the intensity in his one visible eye. “You really are the cutest.”

“I-I… Sanji…”

This time, your warmth is contained to your cheeks. Sanji’s smile is sweet, crooked with the relief of not being pushed away by his new female crewmate or battered on the head by them. The gentleness in your eyes entrances him, and before he can control himself, the young cook leans forward toward the young deckhand, his eyes shut and lips searching for yours. A small breath escapes you before you’re able to reel it in—it would be your first kiss. Your first kiss with, practically, a stranger. And yet, you can’t bring yourself to pull away— it’s actually quite the opposite.

Hands having risen to balance your trembling body against him, they press into the lapels of his blazer, your fingers winding around them to give him a slight tug toward you. Eye swirling with adoration, Sanji is quick to fit his lips to yours, his own hands respectfully daring to come up to rest above your hips. With a small sigh, you press into him just a little more firmly, a little more curiously, steadily becoming more and more listless the longer your kiss goes on, and despite the loss of air in your lungs, you discover it to be difficult to pull away from Sanji, your hands releasing his suit and travelling to hold him to you by his nape.

The sharp hitch of your breath should have acted as a sign that you should pull away, that you should break to breathe, but you couldn’t bear to let him go. Feeling the tip of your tongue suddenly dart along his lower lip, tasting the faintest hint of tobacco that had lingered from his last cigarette, Sanji chuckles into your mouth. Cheeks flushed and chest heaving, he gently insists on bringing you back down to earth with a subtle tap against your side that has your eyes opening. Finally, you part from him, sucking in a breath so deep that it nearly has you choking on it.

“M-Mellorine, mellorine,” Sanji calls to you over your heavy panting, a hand rising from your hip to tilt your chin toward him, “you have to breathe at some point, no?”

“I-I… I… guess…”

Sanji blinks at you, his own face flaming once again. Did she sound… disappointed? His hands, warm and slightly calloused at the tops of his palms, slide around to hold your face in them.

“I adore your enthusiasm, mademoiselle, but if you pass out, I can’t kiss you how I want to.”

#hnnnggggg eternally soggy for this man #i almost forgot to bring this fic over with me from the old blog and i'm kinda sad about that #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x yn #sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x yn #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #one piece x reader #sanji fluff #✦ nc vb.

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mrskokushibo · 1 month

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When a new day begins, the memory of the moon gets erased by the blazing rays of the sun.

Chapter 1: You will be introduced to the main character, Reader (y/n), and her household. I chose the specific and familiar format of (y/n) to retain the feeling of the story being specifically written for each one of you. It makes it more fun, especially in the smutty bits.

Warnings: mentions of sex (Yes, there will be some heavy-weight smut in future chapters. I promise.)

MASTERLIST

Soft footsteps followed the path of the long and narrow corridor, snaking its way from the service quarters and through the main building. The space was lit only by the warm light seeping through the paper-lined walls of the adjacent rooms, thus contributing to the already sleepy atmosphere of the evening. A young maid was carrying a stack of steaming warm fresh towels, occasionally bringing them closer to her face to inhale the smell of fresh linen. Her cheeks were blushed from the hot vapour, and her expression was calm and indifferent.

The first chambers on her journey were the quarters of the Master of the household. This was the largest part of the manor and the most guarded one. She stopped right outside of the shoji door, and the thin wall letting sound diffuse toward her. High-pitched moaning, deep masculine grunts, and a rhythmic pounding sound were all that could be heard.

The master of the house was already balls deep into his nightly distractions. The young maid shook her head and rolled her eyes, the blush on her cheeks gaining a more crimson hue as the sounds reaching her senses brought out a clear vision in her mind’s eye.

Suddenly, she was shuffled on her way by a nearby guard. She looked at him and raised her eyebrows in silent disapproval of the audible actions, only to get an amused smirk in response and a whisper:

‘Sweetheart, it will be my turn once I’m off my shift. A couple of hookers in the Red Light District are already waiting for this.’ He continued his words by pointing to his loins and his smile widened.

‘You are such a pig, Akio.’ She giggled a little as apart from his filthy sex life, he was a decent person.

‘Have fun listening to the inspiration.’ She nodded to the shoji door.

He made a conspiratory head gesture adding a wink, and waved his hand as she resumed her walk.

After a few minutes, she finally reached her destination. A room at the very end of the mansion, the quarters of the oldest daughter in the household, y/n. This secluded part of the building was immersed in peaceful silence, interrupted only by wind steadily picking up in strength outside.

The maid slid the shoji door open slowly and carefully and entered the room, closing the door behind her with just as much care. She shuffled quietly to the far end of the room and placed the stack of towels onto a small side table. She then walked up to the woman kneeling in front of a mirror.

‘Lady y/n let me help you’

The hairbrush changed hands seamlessly and now it was the maid's skilled hands that were running the bristles through a smooth and shiny length of ebony.

‘Thank you, Miho’

You turned around to look at Miho and smiled.

‘You are blushing, my dear. Was my father at it again?’

Miho nodded her head in response while you sighed deeply, shaking your head.

‘Who was it tonight? And please do not tell me it was that imbecile girl Shoko.’

The maid did not say anything, but her facial expression was enough to tell the story.

‘For the grace of gods, he is such a smart man, a scholar almost and that is who he spends time with. I am disgusted, to be honest with you. What hope do I have to find a decent man? They all seem to only be interested in one thing when interacting with us females.’

‘Well…in Master’s defense, there is nothing wrong with wanting to pillow.’ Miho almost stopped herself from saying this knowing you would most likely snap at her, but you were not in the mood for lecturing anyone tonight.

‘No, there is nothing wrong with that. You are right. I just wish he spent more time with Mother in that way, that is all. As soon as she began growing older, he turned his attention to the younger concubines. That is what annoys me.’

‘That’s the way of the world, Lady y/n.’

You thought for a moment, clearly uncomfortable with the maid’s last remark.

‘I for one do not wish for that to happen to me when I grow older. I’d rather commit seppuku than watch my husband lose interest in me.’

The maid remained silent in response, methodically brushing your hair. Her common sense prevented her from comforting you. There was no comfort to give when tradition ruled over emotions, holding women captive to their fate.

Tomorrow, you were to meet a suitor. The oldest son of a warrior clan. You were not an easy woman to marry off, despite your good looks. You were deemed difficult, and obstinate even after a whole range of suitors lost interest after interacting with you and your opinionated mouth. Hence, your father’s last hopes of getting rid of you now lay in the marriage deal he was attempting to broker.

As if capable of reading your mind, Miho spoke softly, her voice blending gently with the warming crackling of fire.

‘My lady, do you think young Tsugikuni-sama is handsome? I heard stories about him and they sounded promising.’

You shrugged and sighed: ‘Well then, someone like that will have good access to women. They would probably perform their duties without payment or reward.’

Once again silence followed. The wind outside had picked up and its sorrowful howling penetrated the thin paper of the house walls. The courtyard gate was slamming repeatedly and whips of rain hit the tiled roof.

‘The demons are out hunting again. I would not want to be in the woods on a night like this.’

‘Miho, do you really believe that superstitious nonsense? There are no demons. At least I do not believe there are.’

‘My lady, I don’t know, but the other day, when I was fetching some fruit, I overheard the villagers talk about people being murdered in the middle of the night. The way the bodies were massacred indicated that it was not the work of a human but rather an animal or something worse, supernatural.’

‘These simpletons believe what they want to believe, my dear Miho. There is most likely a murderer amongst them that their relatives are trying to protect by concocting outlandish stories. ‘

‘The corpses had parts missing, they were, well, eaten, my Lady. And yes, I understand that there are humans that involve themselves in cannibalism, but this? I am not sure what to think. I do choose to go with the villagers’ version.’

‘Miho, your beliefs are your own and I will not try to change your views. I just think that it is always wise to stay rational and objective in the face of the unknown. Don’t you think?’

‘Yes, I agree with the last bit, my Lady. And, if I may, that could be applied to our commitments to men. Don’t you think, my Lady? Because it is a large unknown in who we meet and who they are as a person. My Lady…please give this new suitor a chance. Do not scare them off as you usually do.’

She almost bit her tongue at her impertinence, but she could not hold that all inside. Awaiting a scolding, she knelt completely still.

‘I know, Miho. I know. I will try. Thank you.’

You looked at the maid and a sad smile was all you could give her.

‘You may go now. I need to get some sleep now. It will be a big day.’

The maid bowed and left almost as quietly as she arrived, leaving you to the night ahead.

After she left, you finished off the last of your evening beauty routine and headed off to your futon. But sleep was hard to capture and you laid there listening to the rain and wind battering the outer walls of the courtyard and the roof over you. In foul weather, you were extra grateful for the safety of your vast and well-built family home. All the world’s evil felt far away and not real.

When you at last fell into slumber, your sleep was not a calm one. You were visited by dreams haunted by samurai demons, monsters with several eyes and arms, creatures breathing fire and ice, and bloody corpses left in their trail. The most vivid and memorable one was that of a young male, with long flowy hair and a bloodred katana standing on the background of a purple crescent moon. He had six eyes and everything around him was purple.

But as deep sleep took over, all the monsters vanished leaving you to recover and rest, for tomorrow was to be the day that changed the course of your life, even if you yourself were not yet aware of that.

Tagging: @doumadono @muzansfangs @crescentmoontsuki @horror4themasses @starsinthesworld

Divider by @cafekitsune Artwork from Pinterest

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