#this filter makes my hair look darker than it is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

brayneworms · 1 year

Text

closest to heaven that i'll ever be.

featuring. angel devil x gn!reader.

synopsis: angel's first time with you.

word count. 2.1k

content. smut, MDNI I CHECK, loss of virginity, crying, consent checks, d/s tones, sub!angel + dom!reader, gender neutral reader, guided masturbation, pet names (little love), we fuckin with gloves on, aftercare (it's brief but it's there), lmk if i missed anything.

notes. this originally had kobeni and aki in too but angel's part got way longer, so i'll post them separately :3 reqs are open btw so go ahead and req anything, just check my rules first ty.

"This is stupid."

Angel stares at you balefully; beyond the light flush adorning his pale face, he looks distinctly unruffled, no change from his usual apathetic demeanour. He sits cross-legged on your bed, arms folded, shoulders stooped. You pause in drawing the blind, tilting your head.

"What is?"

He throws you an irritable look. "This. The—this whole set-up. Why pretend when we both know the truth?"

You pull the blinds to, cutting the view of your bedroom off from wandering eyes below. The room stays lit with rosy lamps and projected stars, filtering through Angel's auburn hair. "And what truth is that?"

Angel scowls. "I can't touch you. So. What's the point."

"There's more to sex than that," you say matter-of-factly, secretly delighting in the way it makes Angel's blush darken. He rolls his pretty eyes, hands twisting in his lap. What little sunlight that isn't trapped by the blinds illuminates off his hair like gilt.

"Even so," he mutters. "It won't feel the same. It won't be... good. For me, or for you."

"How can you possibly know that, little love?"

His brows knit at the nickname, and it is a little much, but it feels right in any case, and you like the way it ghosts off your tongue, like the way it makes Angel's eyes droop. Still, his reaction invokes an interest in you, and you perk your head up.

"Have you tried? Before?" you inquire, moving back over to the bed. You sit, crossing your legs, keeping a safe distance—but Angel retracts himself all the same, recoiling back away from you and tucking his hands out of sight. You suppose it must be instinct by now, after so many years living in a body undesigned for love.

"So what if I haven't," Angel mumbles. "Doesn't take a genius to figure it out."

"Humans have a saying—don't knock it 'till you try it."

"Humans are weird," Angel says flatly.

"Even me?"

"Especially you. This is tiring me out..."

You whap him on the shoulder. "Nono, stay awake! Okay, let me—okay. Just tell me, 'cause it's the only thing that matters... do you want to?"

Angel stiffens; behind him, his wings curl into each other protectively, the feathers ruffling as though offended. "W-what?"

"Like, just tell me." You fidget, slightly awkward. "I won't judge, obviously. You've heard more than enough embarrassing shit from me from the bottom of a bottle. So... have you? Thought about it?"

"About what?" Angel stares at you like you've grown a second head, but the flush on his face is darker than ever, wine-red and brilliant against the parchment print of his skin.

"Fucking me," you say bluntly, knowing there's zero point beating around the bush with Angel. He sputters, body tense like he's about to spring off the bed. "Or touching me. Or me touching you. Have you thought about it? Do you want it?"

"I—I..." Angel's mouth works soundlessly for a few moments, eyes wide and more awake than you've ever seen him. Then, unexpectedly, his whole form droops; you feel cold water wash over you, followed immediately by panic. "What's it matter? Like I said earlier, I can't... you can't... just stop making me think about it."

"Humans," you say quietly, "are more resilient than you give 'em credit for. 'Specially me. Cleverer, too, I think, 'cause back in whatever century some genius fucker came up with an invention that changed the world forever. Wanna know what it was?"

Angel stares at you, bewildered. "Uh..."

From the waistband of your sweats, you draw out a pair of gloves. They're on the thinner side, just shy of sheer, black. Expensive, woven from fine cotton. More than you'd ever spend on yourself. But for Angel, you can indulge, you suppose.

"Gloves," Angel deadpans.

"Gloves!" you repeat cheerily. "'Cause, yeah, maybe I can't touch you with my hands. But I... thought... I could touch you with yours."

Angel blinks rapidly. "I—I don't understand."

"Can I show you?" you ask quietly, and he makes a choked noise in the back of his throat, small and needy. After a few tense moments, he lifts a shoulder in a would-be careless shrug.

"Do as you please," he mutters. "Humans are so stubborn..."

You giggle and sit back, spine pressed against the headboard, and cock your legs out so they're straight before parting them. Angel looks quickly away, face aflame, but you pat the space between your thighs encouragingly. "Sit here? If that's okay. It'll make it more comfy."

Angel regards you warily. "You're eager to die, huh?"

Behind the petulance is worry, the sort he's never been good at dressing up, the sort he loathes that he has in the first place. You tilt your head, gaze soft, you hope.

"Nothing's going to happen. I"m all covered up, see?" You wave your arms quickly down your body, clothes from throat to toe. "Just have your head against my chest and it'll be fine."

Angel chews at his lip for a moment, torn between, you think, spurning you for your idiocy and accepting human touch for the first time in God-knows-when. Eventually, you suppose, his selfish side wins out; he turns around stiffly and lowers himself to lay against you. His hair splays out against the comfy spun cotton of your hoodie, and you wonder if he can hear your heartbeat. You can feel the tension in his shoulders through your clothes and skin.

"There you go." Your voice slides into an unintentional low murmur, and Angel shivers against you, wings beating at your ankles. "You comfy?"

He nods, barely perceptible. Not seeing his face clearly is a little frustrating.

"Can you tell me?" you say, gentler than usual. "Just, you know. So I'm sure."

Angel huffs. "If I wasn't, I'd put my hand under your shirt and kill you. Even though that would mean a lot of paperwork, I'd do it."

"Okay, okay. So, um—can I? Touch you?"

Angel squirms. "I—I guess. If you're going to, then fine."

"No, little love. Tell me." You lower your head, putting your lips as close to his ear as you dare; it's still enough for your hot breath to stroke over the sensitive skin there, judging by the shiver that racks through Angel's body as you murmur. "I mean really tell me. Tell me where you want to touch yourself, where you want me to touch you."

"I—hn." His voice is starting to get a little strangled the further out of his comfort zone you prod him. "Why do you have to say such stupid things?"

"'Cause I like you," you admit, a little stiltedly. "I wanna... make you feel good. So. If you want to stop, we can stop."

"I—I didn't say that," Angel mutters. "I... you're close."

"I am." A pause. "Is that okay?"

He fidgets. "Yeah, I guess. It's fine." He pauses, then sighs. "I mean, it's nice. If that's what you wanna hear."

"Only if it's the truth," you say.

"It is, okay?" Angel sighs. "Okay. I... want... I want you to... touch me."

"Okay," you say, a touch too eagerly. "Okay, little love, can do. Where?"

"I—God." Angel buries his face in his hands; you can see the backs of his ears poking through the waterfall of tawny hair, singing scarlet. "Anywhere. Everywhere. I—hn."

You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, palms clammy through the gloves. You lift one hand up and cup his face, feeling the thin line of his jaw, the warmth of his blanket of hair. Angel tilts into the touch unthinkingly, and you swear stars explode over your eyes.

When your other hand comes to rest at his hipbone, just over the jut of his waistband, Angel jolts.

"Here?" you ask, and he nods. You slide your hand over his stomach; his warmth is dulled by the fabric of the glove, but it's closer than you've ever gotten. You can feel everything that matters; the contraction of his muscles as he breathes in and out, the inclination his body has towards your touch, the xylophone of his ribcage singing with each quick breath he takes.

Your hand travels up, slowly, marking a railroad up the pale skin, smoothing over his sternum, ghosting over a nipple. At the contact, Angel gasps, back tensing against your chest as he arches into the touch. You feel him pebble through the cotton, and he squirms, twists his face to hide in your shoulder.

"There?" you whisper, and he gasps out,

"Yes. I—yes. More, there, more—"

He's so sensitive. You suppose it comes from a lifetime of never being touched. You can't imagine how lonely it is. You would've gone insane a long time ago. Your fingers circle over his nipple and then the other, 'till he keens, brows knitted together, mouth open in a small 'o', 'till the fabric of his trousers becomes noticeably strained.

"How about here?" you ask, fingers ghosting at his belt.

"You can't," Angel grits out. "It won't—with the glove, it'll h-hurt."

"I know, I know," you coax soothingly. "It's okay. You wanna touch yourself? I'll watch. It's okay."

Too far gone, you think, to argue like he usually might, Angel gets his hands out from fisting the bedsheets and shakily paws at his belt. There's the pop of a button and the sigh of a zipper, a 'V' of pale skin shrouded with wisps of auburn hair before he's pulling the fabric clumsily down to his ankles, boxers and all. You feel your breath stick in your throat like glass at the sight of him.

His whole body is trembling as he takes himself in his hand; the first experimental stroke has a shuddering breath tumbling out of him, the next a pitchy moan, so ethereal that it makes your skin raise in goosebumps. Angel collapses back into your chest, sweat sticking his hair at the temples, spine squirming against his rutting hand. His long legs twitch against yours, one tangling around like a snake, hooking your ankles together like holding hands.

It's so achingly sweet you could cry. When your hand wraps around his, forcefully slowing his pace, he whimpers out a broken-sounding noise, and your heart flutters.

He's so perfect. So gorgeous. It's a crime you can't touch him for real.

But for now—this will do. This will more than do.

Angel turns big eyes towards you, round as pennies, brighter than ever with fervour and the beginnings of tears dampening his long lashes.

"Is this okay?" you ask, and Angel nods like his life depends on it.

"Yeah," he gasps. "Yes. Want you to—h-hah..."

"What?" you ask, picking up the pace again. Angel writhes, free hand flying up to grip at the fabric of your sweatpants. "Want me to what, little love?"

Your thumb swipes hard over his tip, and Angel makes a high noise like a piano with its strings cut. "O-oh, oh, please, please I'm so close, I'm so—I can't, I feel so—hah!"

"It's alright," you assure him, heart thudding. The whole display has heat surging in your lower abdomen, but you can't think about that, it's about him, your Angel, it's only about him and tears break over his lashline and trickle down his cheeks as he gets closer to his peak, breathing becoming strained and ragged, and he's hot against you, filling you with a burning heat.

"I can't," Angel says wetly. "Hn, hnn, help me? Please, just—do something, I can't—"

Wordlessly, you push your free hand under his shirt again, circle his nipple before taking it between your fingers and tweaking, and Angel's whole body locks up; his back curves, wings twitching almost independently of the rest of his body, legs kicking at the mattress, and he sobs out as he comes, a pitchy wheezing broken sound that's going to live under your bones for the rest of your life.

He collapses back against you, totally spent. You do him the quiet mercy of tucking him away and pulling his slacks back up, buttoning them about his waist as he makes a face of discomfort. You run a tissue over his hands and stomach, mopping up his spend quickly before nudging a bottle of water against his lips. They're full and rosy as they lazily take the nozzle in, sucking absently like a drunkard going back for another swig.

"Was that okay?" you mutter, and Angel scoffs tiredly.

"Mmmn." He turns on his side, digging his face into your stomach. "It was... nice. I'm too tired to return the favour, though."

Fondness beats through you like a heartbeat, slow and syrupy. "It's okay. There's always next time."

Angel's wings flutter in tandem with his eyelids. "Mm," he agrees with a low hum of exhaustion. "Next time."

He's dead to the world within the next few minutes, breathing against your abdomen; as he sleeps, or dreams, or whatever it is devils do, his wings cocoon the both of you, like he's trying to keep you safe even in sleep.

#🫀.scribes #csm x reader #csm smut #csm x dom!reader #dom!reader #angel devil x reader #angel devil smut #angel devil x dom!reader #csm x gn!reader #csm x gender neutral reader #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man smut #chainsaw man x dom!reader #sub!angel devil

978 notes · View notes

13as07 · 10 days

Text

Spitting Image #6

(Gaara Sabaku Smut)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to yo_gud2]

Requested by: Anonymous

Word Count: 3,677

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

"Good Boy"

Subby Boi Gaara

Scratch Marks

Oral (Male Receiving)

Exhibitionism

Hair Pulling

Grinding (on Gaara's boot)

Mommy Kink

———————————————————————

"Papa? Papa's Darling?" Shinki's voice filters through my ears, softly lulling me awake.

"Good morning, Sweetie," I mumble, trying to make my words loud enough for him to hear me through the door. I shift in bed, going to sit up but the weight on my body keeps me in place.

"Darling?" Gaara grumbles, having the same idea as me. He sits up, head lifting from my stomach and his hands sliding over my thighs, helping the events of last night trickle over me.

As he sits up, his hair tickles my chest, tipping me off to my nudeness and shifting the trickle to a full wave. Gaara hovers above me, hands pressing into the bed, the blanket hanging on his hips, barely covering either of us. His cheeks are bright pink, eyes locked on my bare chest. The fact of him being buried in me is brought to the front of my mind as well, the sand shinobi pulsing in me the longer he looks at me.

"Oh good, you guys are awake," Shinki's voice comes again, paired with the sound of my bedroom door opening.

"Don't come in!" Gaara barks, leaning down to cover me as he turns to face the door. "Please, wait outside, Shinki. Papa is... busy," he mutters, tone softer and cheeks darker.

My eyes flicker between Gaara and his oldest son standing in the doorway, looking very confused. "What are you two doing?" He mutters, making the room even more uncomfortable.

"Nothing!"

"Training!" We both answer, turning to look at each other. Gaara is blinking quickly, cheeks now red instead of pink. "Please, just... wait in the kitchen Shinki. We will be out in a couple of minutes."

"Okay," he mumbles, leaving the room, and slamming the door behind him.

"Dear Lord," I sigh, my hands jumping up to cover my face and the embarrassment slowly crawling onto it. "That was... terrible."

"Yes, terrible. Embarrassing, even. Tell me I'm a good boy, Mommy," Gaara grumbles, head buried into my neck as he starts moving his hips against mine, his pace instantly fast as his tip buries itself into my pussy. His arms snake down, looping themselves under my knees before I'm shifted up the bed, knees settled on his shoulders.

"You're a good boy," I whisper, sliding my fingers through his hair, and gently massaging his scalp. "Make sure you pull out this time," I tease, trying to shift my position under him. I'm not prepared and the needy man between my legs is moving too fast for me to comfortably adjust.

"What... why... you're squirming... good or... or bad?" He whispers against my skin, his hot breath and sloppy kisses coating me as well.

"Bad," I mumble, trying to adjust myself again. Gaara's movements freeze, head moving so he can look at me. He looks ready to burst into tears as he looks down at me. "Not super bad. I'm just not wet enough, Sunshine."

"How do I... I want to fix it," he grumbles, his movements slow and inching as he thrusts in and out of me. Kisses are littered across my face, desperate and hungry. A kiss is laid on my lips between each patch of skin his mouth presses against. "Make you feel nice, yes? You... you feel nice... need to make Mommy feel nice," Gaara mutters more to himself than me, pulling himself out of me before he stumbles down my body.

"Sunshine," I call, hands shooting down to cup his face, tilling it up so he has to look up at me. "How about we wait? You told Shinki we'd met him in the kitchen."

"But... but... feel nice?" The Kage whines, tilting his head to nuzzle his cheeks against my hands.

"We can have sex later, Sunshine. I promise. For now, let's go have breakfast with the boys." Gaara lets out a few high-pitched whines, deflating and letting his body weight crush my legs. "Gaar - "

"Yes, yes. Breakfast with our boys," he grumbles, stamping a kiss into my knee before he rolls off of me. Maybe it's the use of the word 'our' or maybe it's the scratch marks littering Gaara's back or maybe it's seeing his dedication tattoo for me in the light for the first time, but another child doesn't sound too scary.

My eyes trail after him, watching Gaara collect our clothes from the floor, tossing mine on the bed and slowly pulling his back on. I think it's the tattoo. He's insane. We hooked up once and he fell so head over heels for me that he permanently imprinted his skin with proof of me. That's insane...ly hot.

"Do you want head?" What?! Why did I say that? Because I want to give him head - no - breakfast with the boys. We're going to have breakfast with the - our - boys.

Gaara stops moving, head tilted and eyes blinking as he processes my question. "I appreciate your dedication to me, my darling, but no I do not wish for you to give me someone's head."

"That's not... okay," I mutter, deciding that's something I should explain to him later. We don't have time to fill in Gaara's lack of sexual knowledge right now. "What's on your agenda for the day?" I ask, using the sheet to cover myself before I climb out of bed. I get the feeling that my co-parent will be the type to cling until I fulfill my promise.

That only being further proven when his arms dig under the bedding wrapped around my frame, trying to shove it off of me as his hands wander over my bare skin. "I have a meeting at eight and another at nine. I am making an appearance at Shinki's classroom to talk about the hierarchy of our government around eleven. Then mostly paperwork and scanning over the results from the festival and yesterday's harvest."

The ramble continues, Gaara filling me in on the different piles of paperwork he has to do. The whole time his hands are present on my chest, massaging them and occasionally stopping to try and yank the blanket off of me again.

"I'm going to a daycare viewing for Yoshiki at eleven. If it goes good he'll stay there until about three I think."

"Daycare?" Gaara mumbles, enjoying his success in making the blanket slide down my shoulders by pressing kisses to them. "We have an in-house nanny. Do you not like her? Should I request applications for a new one?"

"I don't mind Shinki's nanny. She's nice and helpful, but it's good for children to socialize with kids their age. I'm sure Sana would appreciate the four-hour break, even if it's only five days a week. Besides, when I start working again we'll need options for when Sana is on vacation." My ramble is difficult to piece together, almost as difficult as trying to balance the sheet around myself, Gaara's added weight to my body, and trying to wiggle on a bra and a pair of underwear.

"Working?" He asks, his tone confused as he tilts his head up, my shoulder kisses forgotten.

"Yes, working. Yoshiki and I are settled, so it's time for me to start looking for a job," I explain, letting the sheet fall to the ground now that I've managed to slide on some clothes.

"You... no? Absolutely not. Do as you wish with your time, my darling, but you will not be working. The Consort Kazekage, Lady Sabaku, does not work. The lady of our village does not take orders from anyone besides Kage. You do not take orders from anyone besides myself, and you do not even do that."

I stand still in my spot, mouth wide and eyes blinking as I stare at the personification of stupidity. This is the man that knocked me up? I take it back, he's not insanely hot, he's just insane. "What?" I husk out, still trying to wrap my head around Gaara's rant.

"You, my darling, the stars in my sky, will not be working," he mutters, wrapping his arms around my waist. "You can do volunteer work, or pick up a hobby, or start a business if you so wish. My consort will not be working under another."

"What if I want to work?" I push, taking deep breaths to hopefully keep my growing anger under wraps.

"There is no reason to work. You have more than enough money from me working. If you so wish to, I don't agree with it but I will not stop you. I just wish for you to spend your time how you want, not wasting away at a job you do not need to have."

"I have more than enough money?" I ask, snapping my eyes closed and leaning against Gaara, enjoying the feeling of his hands rubbing my stomach.

He hums, pressing kisses along my back. "Everything I have is yours. My money, my resources, my house, my name, my title, it all belongs to you. Everything I am is to be of use to you. I am here to serve you until the second my lungs give way." Damn it. I'm going to give Gaara another baby, aren't I?

————————————

"My Darling!" Gaara chirps, jumping up from his desk and rushing towards me as soon as I open his office door. "You got my note! You are joining me for lunch, yes?" He asks, fingers clinging to my shirt as he holds me.

Earlier today I got a note from Gaara, requesting that I join him for lunch... while I was eating lunch with Yoshiki. "I already ate, Sunshine."

"That is alright, you can join me as I work instead," he says, pulling away from me just to drag me toward his desk. Gaara settles into his chair, a hand still around my wrist as I stand next to him. "I have been working, just so you're aware, but I have done some research."

"Alright," I murmur, shaking his hand off of me.

"I have talked to my brother," Gaara starts his ramble, sorting through the papers on his desk. "He says I might have come off 'a little strong' this morning and that it 'probably doesn't help with the stress I'm putting on you'. He - my brother, Kankuro - and his wife have a situation I would like us to have. Where I work and you enjoy life. They have this thing called an 'escape plan'."

"A what?" I ask, resting myself against his chair, watching as he frantically looks for whatever it is he's searching for.

"An escape plan," Gaara repeats, finding what he was looking for. It's a pocket. "It is a legal agreement. Kankuro called it a 'safety net' to help you be more open to what I wish for us." I slowly blink, watching the man in front of me babble with a smile on his face, shaking the pocket at me. "It is a legal agreement that if either of us ever wants to leave, you and Yoshiki will be taken care of. There are agreements on the amount of money I give you, and for how long, helping you relocate back to the Leaf village, and set you up in a new life until you can handle it on your own. Agreements on Yoshiki and how we'll co-parent too. Well, not in this one because it's Kankuro's copy but that'll be in our agreement."

My hand jumps forward, covering Gaara's mouth so he'll stop talking. I need a second to process what he's saying. "But..." I start, somewhat understanding what he's trying to say. "But you're the leader of the village. You approve and uphold everything."

Gaara gently pulls my hand off his mouth, knotting our fingers together as he presses kisses against my fingers. "I will be contacting Naruto, your home village's Kage. I will have our contract certified in the Leaf village so if it does come to needing to use it, I will not have a say. I will have no influence over it at all. You and our son will be taken care of and I will do everything in my power to make you feel safe."

"Oh..."

"I will give you a copy of Kankuro's agreement so you can look it over. Write your notes, what you like about it, what you don't, what you want to be added and taken away from ours, and whether you even want an escape plan. If you do, as I said, I will contact Naruto and I will have a contract drawn up. I'll have a million contracts drawn up until it's everything you want and need from it. I have also been looking into lawyers. As a couple, we could have one but in this situation, I think it is best that we have individual lawyers. I have also - "

"I'm going to give you head," I cut him off, tugging my hand away from him again.

"My darling, I have already told you - "

"Be quiet," I mutter, shifting his chair backward so there's room for me between his legs.

Gaara watches me, eyes trailing after me as I sink to my knees, positioning myself between his thighs. I shift his robes around, a little annoyed when I'm met with his pants underneath them. What a waste. "Are we having sex?" He asks, fingers skittish as they coat through my hair.

"Yes," I mumble, tugging his pants down before wiggling his boxers down his thighs too. "I'm going to go down on you," I add on, figuring that'll help him put the pieces together.

"Oh? Oh!" His sound starts as a mutter, switching to a moan when my fingers slide over his semi-boner. "This is... this is the head you were referring to?"

"Yes Sunshine," I confirm, tilting my head down to take the tip of his dick into my mouth.

"My darling," he calls, fingers tangled in my hair as I suck on him. I let my spit spill out, sliding down his dick so I can continue sliding my fingers up and down that of his dick that I'm not keeping trapped in my mouth. "We... we are in my office, my darling. Mommy... my dear, we are... office?"

"Do you want me to stop?" I ask, my words muffled by Gaara's tip resting on my lips. "Or I can keep going," I add, letting my tongue poke out, sliding it over his slit as I wait for an answer.

"My darling, Mommy, my dear... I am at work. I am... a... a public pillar. My... my office is open to the public and... This isn't," he cuts himself off with a whine, playing with the ends of my hair.

"Fine, I'll give you head when you get home then," I mutter, starting to climb to my feet.

"Hey, Gaara?" A voice tears through the room, paired with a knock at the door. "I have a letter for you." Panic flickers across Gaara's face as he pushes me back on my knees. "I think it's from the Village Hidden in the Clouds," the voice continues, the door swinging open as I'm shoved under the desk, Gaara trying to situate himself above me.

"That is good," he spills out slowly, his body jerking a bit as I try to situate myself in the crowded space under the desk. "You mind returning in a few minutes?"

"What? Is your baby mama hiding in the closet or something?" The question is followed by a chuckle, giving away who it is; Kankuro.

"Don't call her that. It's degrading," Gaara barks, his hands swishing around under his desk, in search of me. I settle my head on his thigh, his hands eagerly digging into my hair again. I nuzzle my nose against his still-exposed dick, causing his hold to tighten.

"I guess," his older brother murmurs. "Speaking of your... whatever you want to call her, have you talked to her about an exit plan?" A chair screeches along the floor, tipping me off that Kankuro is here to stay for a while.

Might as well have fun with it, I guess. I lift my head, taking an inch or two of Gaara's dick into my mouth again. "Nope!" He yelps, accidentally tugging on my hair. "I... um... she's... looking at a daycare today. Yep."

"Are you good?" Kankuro asks, Gaara rapidly nodding his head in response. I keep my eyes cast up, watching how he reacts as I bob my head. I shift under the desk again, positioning myself on Gaara's boot before I shift more of him down my throat. "Why is she checking out daycares? Did she fire the nanny?"

"No, the nanny is still... nanny-ing? She just... um... sorry, I'm... stressed." Gaara's eyes are blinking like crazy, jaw locking and unlocking as he tries to keep his wits about him. I move myself against his shoe, rubbing my clit through my pants in time with his dick sliding down my throat.

"I get that, Gaar. You're dealing with a lot. If I'm being honest, I thought you made the girl up."

"Why?" He mutters, head tilting to the side so he can glance down at me. When Gaara figures out what I'm doing, his cheeks go pink.

"No offense, actually, all offense, you're a little... mhm... and she's a... she's... well, a MILF," Kankuro mutters, chuckling at his joke.

Gaara nods his head, cheeks going darker as he watches me undo my pants, wiggle them, and my panties down to my thighs. "What's a MILF?" He mutters, eyes glancing up at his brother.

As Kankuro explains what a MILF is, I carefully switch myself around under the desk, reminding myself how inflexible I am as I position myself. "That's... that's... don't... leave my future wife alone," Gaara mutters, his hands digging into my hips as I carefully line myself up.

His brother chuckles again, this one coming out like a cackle more than a chuckle. "I have no interest in sleeping with your... person, Gaar. I'm just saying she's hot... and good for you. I've never seen you so happy."

"Yep, super happy," another mumble comes, a 'hmph' spilling out when I inch backward. He shifts a bit, sitting up straight on the edge of his chair to make it a tad easier for me. Only about half of Gaara's cock is pressed into me, the position and aches already forming in my joints placing this position low on the list. "The mother of my children... she's... perfect? I think that's what it is... and... and I'm going to marry her and we... I want a daughter. I think. Yes, a daughter."

"Oh, ya?" Kankuro asks, a smile in his tone. "If you have a daughter, I'm a bit worried you'd become a hovering parent."

"Ya?" Gaara's nails dig into my skin, threatening to leave scratches on me as I slowly rock my hips to and fro.

"Ya, definitely. That little girl wouldn't fear shit but everyone would fear her because of her father and big brothers."

"Probably. Leave. My... my darling is joining me for lunch, so... see yourself out."

Another round of laughter spills from Kankuro, his chair squeaking again as he stands. "As you wish, my lord. Tell her hi for me," Gaara's brother teases, his footsteps filling the room before the door echoes through the room.

Once the door is closed, Gaara's arms shoot down, wrapping around my waist and lifting me. He settles me on his desk, his paperwork digging into my stomach, and his hands balling up some of the sheets. "You are... we can't... Darling?"

Gaara's face picks up, slamming all of his dick into me now that we're in a better position. "Sunshine?" I call back, tilting my head back to look at him. He's huffing for air, cheeks shaded dark, and eyes wide as he ruts into me. Desperation to finish swims through his face, a leftover effect from the tension this morning.

"I want... I want to give you... another... another baby. Please? Pretty please?"

"We can't have another babe right now, Gaara."

"Soon? Please?" He whines, arms wrapping around my waist, tugging me down as his thrusts start stumbling.

"Soon, Sunshine," I mutter, tugging his arms off of me.

"Mommy," he almost cries, pulling at my shirt as I sink to my knees again. "You can't just... you said... okay." The last word is drawn out, Gaara's voice jagged because of me taking him down my throat again. I bob my head two or three times before his cum is shot down my throat. I sink further, gagging from the depth as his seamen spills into my stomach. "Mommy? Darling? Mommy? My Dear?" Whines for me spill from him on repeat.

I move slowly once I'm sure he's done, taking my time inching his dick out of my throat. Gaara's dick is still twitching when I pull off of him, threatening to spill after shots as he tries to catch his breath. "We cannot..." he mutters, fingers coating through my hair as his chest pumps for air. "Not in my office again."

"Why not? I thought it was fun," I tease, gently sliding my tongue over his cock again, licking up the mess left on it. "You said to do what I wish with my time. Maybe I wish to sit under your desk all day and have you empty your balls down my throat."

"Will you... Will you not work then?" He mutters, dick still twitching and already starting to get hard again. I hum a yes, sliding my tongue over his slit. "Fine. Fine, fine, fine," Gaara spills out, his sensitivity shining through. "Just... just stop that. It's starting to hurt."

"Okay, Sunshine," I say, a smile tugging on my lips. "Do you still want to go get lunch? I could use some water and a snack," I ask, crawling to my feet.

"Please?"

"Alright, Sunshine. Let's go get lunch."

———————————————————————

#naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden oneshot #naruto shippuden x reader #naruto shippuden smut #gaara sabaku smut #gaara sabaku x reader #gaara sabaku #gaara sabaku oneshot #gaara x reader #gaara smut #gaara oneshot

51 notes · View notes

wasyago · 1 year

Text

okay don't mind me just gonna ramble for a second haha-

(this was originally going to be under the drawing, but it got too long, and i can't add it in a reblog because both things are on queue, so separate post it is)

i just love how every time i start a drawing im like "well alright, just a quick sketch yea? no color, maybe some gray to white gradient and that's it, okay?". and then i start drawing (and obviously it takes longer than i thought because duh) and i go "okay but- i gotta at least do the flat colors, right? just the flats- maybe even some random colors to not spend too much time on it--". and then. of course. i do the flats, and im pretty happy with the result yeah? looks simple but not too simple, like it has some color some personality to it, but its not over the top so. so, i leave the drawing i go to get some water and start on an actual piece, and when i come back and take a look at what i drew its like, "well. listen. listen-- yeah im still pretty happy with how it looks but, but. it could be a little better, yea?" and then i sit down, put my water down, put my other drawing to the side, and i sit there making this quick sketch look better. "oh i don't like the colors anymore! but its all on one layer now so i can't exactly change them, plus i still like the idea, so maybe some filters? yeaj some filters on top will do!" (and of course its a yellow shade filter, because im original like that and 90% of my drawings don't also have it on). and then i add them filters and i think" well maybe some bounce light now? surely it already looks better with the filter but its kinda flat, and i want to bring *a little bit* of the original color in" so i add the bounce light, but now it looks out of place! shocker! so i decide that surely i can maybe add some grass at the bottom to hide the edge of the drawing a little. and well, alright, grass looks good, but its too dark, brings a lot of attention to it! and i can't exactly make it lighter, so, the logical choice would be to make the characters darker too, bring some contrast into the thing! and lets just do all the values while we're at it, why not! patterns to the horse, make the pants and skin darker, yes yes. and, oh- but now the eyes are lost because there's more dark hues! gotta make a new layer on top and make them eyes a little bit darker, maybe also color the bandana red and not brown so it looks special, hm? oh and! while we're on this top layer, lets also fix up the hair a little, maybe add some blush... oh and the straps of the saddle look weird, gotta fix those too! oh man and not that i look at it-- the head is too big! lets merge all the layers together and start that same thing over again! yes yes make the head a little smaller, yeah looks much better now! oh, better add some fading as well, to make it fit in the background a little, oh and some glow, suuure sure, and some lights in the eyes, and-

(and now that im looking at it, i realize that i somehow didn't save the final version????? like, i did a lot more to the thing, fixed up the saddle and that awkward shade oh his knee, and the grass-- i wont fix it now because NOW im too lazy to do it for some reason, but yeah, a bit unfortunate u_u)

anyways, point being, love art, art is pog, wish i cared a little less about it sometimes, but it also turnes this into this (imagine me pointing at the drawings as i say that, overly dramatic and sounding a little annoyed with myself)

#yagotalk #my art #sketch #wooo yeah woo yeah art

258 notes · View notes

allegra-writes · 2 years

Text

"Starstruck"

Original gifs by @kamillahn

Aleksander Morozova x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Praise kink, size kink, mentions of semi public sex, bit of a choking kink, bit of manipulation (come on guys, this is the darkling here), mild self esteem issues.

After a night of drinks with friends in a strange country, you let a tall, dark and handsome stranger take you home. The next morning, you discover you slept with a super star.

MY MASTERLIST | BUY ME A DRINK

You tried not to make a sound as you scouted the bedroom for your underwear. The early morning glow filtering through the blinds that in your enthusiasm you had failed to close, provided you with barely enough light to find your sparkly dress, but your cream colored panties, so close in shade to the plush carpet under your feet, were another thing completely. Giving up, you sighed, getting up from the floor. It was useless, the panties were probably as ruined as the torn thighs in your hands anyway. Tall, dark and handsome please-call-me-Sasha had been very thorough in his wreckage of you the night before.

Leaving such a path of destruction behind was apparently, exhausting, because said man was currently snoring softly, hugging his pillow, looking far too innocent for someone who had done such wicked things to you in that very same bed -not to mention the elevator, or the ride home, or the bathroom bar before that- not even a handful of hours ago, and far too beautiful for your poor heart. Tearing your eyes away from that angelic sight was almost as hard as tearing yourself from his arms five minutes before, but you forced yourself to do it. He wasn't yours to keep, and though he had been very passionate about you last night, who knew what his reaction to you would be in the harsh light of day.

You told yourself it wasn't cowardice, you simply would rather to keep your memory of him and your perfect one night stand like that, perfect than have it tainted by the regret in his face when he woke up to... well, you. You also told yourself it wasn't a self esteem issue either, you considered yourself an average, moderately attractive woman. The thing was, he wasn’t moderately attractive. He was drop dead, hollywoodesque, carved by the gods cliché level of hot.

Yes, better to save yourself and him the awkwardness of the morning after and leaving before he woke up. Besides, you had a day full of bridesmaid duty ahead of you, the sooner you could get back to your hotel, the better.

If only you could find your other boot...

And maybe a hoodie or something to borrow, you didn't mind (much) the walk home in last night's dress, but you didn't really fancy to freeze in the glaciar air of Ravkan early spring mornings either.

It looked like divine providence when you located both items in the reading nook by the window, all you needed to do was navigate around Sasha's side of the bed without waking him, and the task didn't seem a difficult one, considering all you had to do was walking barefoot on a very plushy rug to the other side of the room. In a couple of seconds, your treasure was within reach and you were bending down to grab your elusive left boot, grey knitted hoodie already in hand, when you saw it.

There, greater than life, staring right back at you through the windowpane from a gigantic billboard across the street, was your one night stand's face. Sure, the hair was longer, darker and the beard was thicker but there was no possible mistake, no chance of it being a simple, if uncanny, resemblance. Not when that face sported the same cupid's bow, the same onix eyes, hell, the same freaking beauty mark under his left eye. And it was really dramatic too, his tall figure, all clad in black in medieval period clothes, huge green characters against a dark background announcing "Aleksandr Morozov is The Dark One". Your limited knowledge of the Cyrillic alphabet prevented you from reading the name of the movie but one thing was clear: This wasn't a small or independent production, this was big, this was mainstream, a lot of money had to be involved for such a massive sized campaign. And for him to be the focus of it, for his name, albeit unknown to you, to be advertised like that, as big as the name of the movie, it could only mean that his name had weight, that it was as important as the movie or show they were promoting.

You had slept with a freaking movie star.

Suddenly, the luxury surrounding you was so conspicuous, so glaringly obvious you wondered how you hadn't noticed before. The soft hoodie in your hands was high quality cashmere, the luscious carpet under your feet probably real fur, the books lining the bookshelves, precious first editions.

Jesus, had the opulent car that had taken you there the night before been his car, his chauffeur instead of an Uber ride like you had originally thought?

You were so stunned, so lost in thought, you didn't even notice your date was awake, until a hand shot through the air, quick as a whip, catching your wrist.

In two movements, you were flat on the bed, sleepy, irresistibly disheveled, completely naked Aleksandr Morozov hovering over you.

"Where do you think you're going, malyshka?"

In complete disconnect from your still short circuiting brain, melting twice over because he was there, so handsome and so close -and had you mentioned, naked?- you opened your mouth.

"You're famous"

A beat of silence. Then two. Until he finally grinned, easy and charming and handsome as the devil.

"I am. Is that a problem?"

He said it casually, smirk still firm on his face, but his eyes betrayed him. There was something guarded, something almost sad about them then, something that made your gut twist with guilt, your cheeks heat with embarrassment.

"No, of course not!" You scoffed, searching for the right words to reassure, to comfort.

But he was already over it, if the way he dived to kiss your neck was any indication, as the hand not braced against the mattress stroked the contours of your body, skimming the side of your breast, caressing the curve of your hip, splaying on the outside of your thigh, down and down until his fingers found your knee, hooking on the back of it to bend your leg around his slim hips as they pushed your thighs apart.

"I- I have to go…" You stammered as his hand found its way to the inside of your thigh.

"Do you, now?" Was that amusement in his voice?

“Yes. Ana, my friend, is getting married the day after tomorrow and I can't just bail on her when-” He swallowed the rest of your sentence, kissing you, open mouthed and slow, managing to make it dirty and sweet at the same time. Sensual.

You couldn't remember anyone kissing you quite like that before, with such artistry, such abandon. As if the kiss wasn't a preamble or a means to an end, but a sexual act in and of itself.

“You taste like my toothpaste” He growled into your mouth, before slipping his tongue past your lips again, chasing the flavor, hips undulating against yours so languidly, so softly, you doubted he was even aware he was doing it.

You hated yourself for ending the kiss even as your lungs burned from lack of oxygen, but as you broke it and let air fill your lungs, so did your head fill with clarity and you remembered the long day of bridesmaid duty you had ahead of you.

“Im sorry, I really am” You lamented, sincerely, “I'd love nothing more than staying and spending the morning with you, but I really have to go”

Aleksander didn't seem to hear it, though, staring intently at you, index finger tracing the line of your brow, the bridge of your nose, your cheekbone, as if trying to commit your face to memory.

“Sasha? Sasha! Are you even listening to me?”

Aleksander shook his head,

“Sorry” He didn't sound sorry at all, “It's just, you are truly beautiful in the daylight”

You felt your cheeks get warm again, so you buried your face against his neck, the way his breath hitched not escaping your notice. So, his neck was sensitive, interesting.

No, you couldn't let yourself get distracted again. You had to return to your life, had to get out of there before things could get any further. It was one thing to sleep with the sexiest man you had ever met under cover of darkness, with alcohol blurring his perception and your inhibitions. To let him fuck you completely sober in broad daylight was an entire different beast.

“I mean it, Sasha, I have to go”

He let his whole body weight fall on you, trapping you under him.

“I'm afraid I can't let you go, malyshka” He replied, not looking at you anymore, focused instead on the place where his hands were pushing up your already short dress till it was indecently bunched around your hips.

“Why not?” You questioned, even as you let his fingers slide between your legs, find the wetness already seeping there for him. He didn't comment on your lack of underwear, which made you suspect he knew exactly what had happened to your panties and their whereabouts.

"Because" He started as his index and middle fingers grazed your slit, coating them on your slick before coming up to rub circles on your clit, a rhythmic, electrifying friction sending sparks up your abdomen in record time, "I'm supposed to be dating my co-star, and as much as I like this pretty little dress of yours, if a paparazzi or a fan sees you leave my house in it, we'll both be in big trouble…"

Your hand was on his wrist in an instant, trying, inefficiently, to halt his movements.

"Wait, you have a girlfriend??"

“It's not real, moya malyshka” He appeased, soothingly petting your head in a deeply patronizing gesture, “it's all make believe, publicity for the show”

Offended by his condescension, you batted the hand still patting your hair away, but he chose that moment to breach your entrance, just barely, only burying his fingers to the first knuckle, yet enough to send a wave of pleasure through your lower belly.

“I'm only asking you to have a little patience,” You tried to focus on his words but it was really hard when he kept teasing your entrance like that, penetrating you less than an inch at a time and withdrawing his fingers again, only to caress your labia, your slit, your clit with a butterfly's wing pressure. “Just wait here until I can call my assistant to bring you some casual clothes, so if someone sees you leave here, at least it won't be so obvious you spent the night…” He rolled your clit between the pads of his fingertips then, making your eyes roll back. “Just a couple of hours, what do you say, pretty girl? I promise I'll make it worth your while…”

It did sound like a logical course of action, you were sure that made sense, or as much sense you could make of something with his hands driving you to distraction like that.

“Just… just a couple of hours?” It was pretty early anyway, your friends would probably sleep till noon, nursing their own hangovers, they wouldn't even notice your absence.

“Just a handful of hours” He brought his thumb to the mix, ghosting it over your most sensitive nub of nerves.

“Oh… ok” You sighed, giving in.

“There's a good girl” You could hear the smirk in his voice but couldn't find it in yourself to care, not when he rewarded you by burying his fingers inside you to the hilt wasting no time in starting to pump them in and out, thumb rubbing at your clit expertly, multiplying your pleasure to eleven right then and there. He seemed to relish in the noises leaving your throat, whispering praises in your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine. “That's it, just like that, let me take care of you. I can make it good for you… let me make it good for you…”

“Yes…”

His strokes changed then, exploring, searching your tight, wet heat for something. You knew the moment he found it because sparks exploded behind your eyelids, making you whimper and moan, and writhe. He pinned your hips to the bed with his other hand, keeping you in place as he intensified his assault, picking up the pace.

It was almost embarrassing, how quickly you had become such a mess in his hands.

"So beautiful… so responsive… God, you're perfect"

You had never been one for praise kink, but his words in that voice, so deliciously husky with desire, was doing something to you. Something that obliterated your brain function better than any drink ever did.

"Yeah, just like that… ride my hand just like that, looks so sexy… Fucking sexiest thing I have ever seen…"

You had no idea when you had started following the movements of his fingers with your hips but you were glad he liked it; you didn't think you could stop if you tried, you were too close, too far gone.

"Wanna see you ride my cock just like that… think you can do that for me, malyshka?"

You nodded not really processing his words, you would have done anything he asked of you at that moment, that was why it was so disorienting to suddenly find your positions reversed, with him laying on the bed on his back, and you manhandled until you were straddling his lap.

"Are you ready for it, malyshka?"

A quick look down told you you weren't. Objectively, you knew you had already managed it the night before, but you hadn't seen it. Now, faced with the dimensions, the sheer girth of the appendage he called his dick, you froze.

Obviously, Aleksander noticed your hesitation.

"I know, printsessa, I know. It's too big for you isn't it?"��

You felt yourself nodding, eyes drawn back to where his hand was stroking his length leisurely. You had the distinct impression he was showing off for you. Bastard.

"But you can take it, I know you can. You took it so well last night…" There it was again, that damned praising that made you want to do anything he said, fly yourself to the moon and back, only to get to hear that sinful voice call you a good girl again. So you let him notch the flared head of his cock to your entrance but didnt push inside, letting you take control, take your time, which you were grateful for because the stretch of his tip alone felt like almost too much, soaked and eager as you were.

You lowered yourself slowly, feeling every inch, every ridge and vein, watching in satisfaction as his eyes rolled back inside his head, as his hands flew to your asscheeks like he needed the purchase. Like he was as affected as you were. The little groans leaving his mouth motivated you to keep going whenever the strain threatened to be too much, until you were sat flush to his pelvis. You took a moment, then, as much to get used to him, to the feeling of being filled to the brim by his massive cock, as to center yourself.

When you finally felt ready to start moving, you opened your eyes to find him staring up at you, slack-jawed, as if awestruck, as if he couldn't believe such a tight fit either. Rocking your hips just a little proved enough for his mouth to fall open completely, the most pornographic sound you had ever heard resonating through the room and searing itself onto your brain.

This man was going to be the death of you.

“Just like that… fuck, you feel so good”

You wanted to tell him the same, wanted to tell him how incredible his cock felt inside of you but your voice was stuck in your throat, mouth open, fixed in a silent oh. Your silence didn't deter him though, because he kept whispering dirty nothings as your hips picked up their rhythm, hands grabbing at your thighs, your ass, your hips, everywhere he could reach that was unimpeded by your dress, adding fuel to the fire already burning low on your belly thanks to the maddening friction of his pubic hair scraping your sensitive clit as you rocked on top of him.

It wasn't enough.

To be stuffed full of him, to have his mesmerized attention, his hands on you. No, you were greedy, hungry. You wanted more. You wanted everything.

So you took the hem of your sequined dress and lift it over yourself, revealing all of your body to Aleksanders ravenous gaze.

“Ara, moya malyshka… yes, take it all off!” Aleksanders hands flew immediately to your ribcage, traveling up to seize your breasts, squeezing the handfuls and making your head fall back in pleasure. “I knew youd look beautiful sitting on my cock, krasotka…”

“Sasha…” You managed to plead.

“Do you need something, malyshka?”

You nodded.

“Do you need more? Do you need me to fuck you?”

“Yes” you were not above begging, “Sasha, please…”

He didn't reply with words, instead, he snaked an arm around your back, holding you to him as he sat up and started moving you up and down his cock one handed, the other cupping your face, holding you in place as he devoured your lips. Your own fingers searched, blindly, gripping at his dark locks, trapping him as much as he was trapping you, if only to have something to brace yourself against the slight sting of being stretched almost to your limit, the abrasion of his cock pistoning in and out of you, reaching deep, impossible deeper with every upward thrust.

“Sasha…” You exhaled into his mouth, and he breathed it in, as drunk with passion as you felt, little moans in tandem with yours.

You could feel it building already, every impact of his thighs against your ass, of his pubic bone against your clit hurtling you up higher and higher, a climb that almost frightened you, you weren't sure you would survive the fall.

But there was no stopping it, no way to fight it, not when Aleksander let go of your mouth just to lock his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and nibbling with far less skill, far less self control than he had shown as he fingers you open, biting on your little nub with enough force to hurt, to really send a sharp pang of pain that echoed through your body mixing and blurring with the pleasure until you didn't know which was which, until you didn't know if you wanted to lean into it or get away.

The decision was made for you (or maybe there was never a decision to make) anyway, as his thrusts found that elusive little spot his fingers had already conquered before, and you were falling, abruptly and unprepared, coming with such force you thought you'd might break apart, come undone at the seams, shattered by the force of an orgasm so powerful even Aleksander felt it, hissing at the vice like grip of your cunt strangling his cock as your climax rippled through you.

"Fuck! Just like that, come all over my cock, Malyshka, give it to me, let me feel it…"

You could tell he was close too, his movements faster, more erratic and found that you wanted it, wanted to feel him come inside you, feel him fall apart with you.

So you reach out, wrapping your hands around his neck, and squeezed, crushing his pipeline, until his words were nothing more than an unintelligible wheezing, until his eyes widened and his face went red with lack of oxygen.

Until you felt his cock pulsate inside you and the liquid warmth of his come paint your womb.

You collapsed on the bed in a tangle of limbs, chest to chest, heartbeats pounding in unison, both shipwrecked by the intensity of what had just happened.

"You know," You panted, after a few minutes, "If your evil masterplan was using sex to stop me from leaving… it totally worked, I can't even move my legs''

His only response was a far too self satisfied laugh.

***

"Are you sure, Ivan?"

You were standing naked on the heated tiles of Aleksander's bathroom, tapping away on your phone as he ran a bath for both of you (you had insisted on a shower at first since it would have been quicker, but one glance at his colossal labradorite bathtub had obliterated all your resistance). The entire bridal party had watched you leave the impromptu Bachelorette's with "the Aleksandr Morozov lookalike" and were now demanding details, the dirtier the better.

"... and there isn't anything you can do? Well, can't you ask Alina for help?"

That name you did know: Alina Starkova's face was everywhere, starring in the campaigns of every luxury brand from Bvlgari to Lancome. You simply had thought she was a new supermodel, up until half an hour ago you had no idea she was an actress, let alone Sasha's co-star and fake girlfriend.

That you were absolutely not jealous of. No, if the name made you lift your eyes from your phone screen, it was mere interest. No pang of annoyance or anything else remotely unpleasant. That was ridiculous, you didn't even know the woman.

Aleksander was pacing the bathroom, as naked as you but somehow managing to still look regal af, even as he closed his eyes and pinched at the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Fine. No, seriously, it's ok…" the rest of his sentence was spoken in a ravkan so fast you had no hope of translating, but when he was done, he put his own phone away and turned to you.

"Was that your assistant?"

"Yeah, Ivan" He confirmed, sighing, "I'm sorry, malyshka, but apparently there's a handful of paparazzi camping on my doorstep, I'll have to ask you to stay a little while longer while we figure out what to do about them" He sounded sincerely apologetic, "You don't have to say yes, of course, and I would never force you to stay, but you would really, really spare me a scandal if you do"

You frowned, and his face fell even further.

"You keep calling me that, but I don't know what it means"

It was his turn to frown a little, in confusion,

"What? Malyshka?"

You nodded. He smiled, just a little bit, taking a step towards you, into your personal space.

"It means 'babygirl'"

You scrunched up your nose,

"So what, I'm supposed to call you 'daddy' in return?"

"Of course not," He replied, wrapping his arms around you, "just call me papa"

"Ugh, no way!" You batted away at his chest, but couldn't disguise the smile trying to break free. If it was a little goofy, well, no one had to know "I'm not calling you that, you dirty old man!"

"We'll see…" He shrugged, noncommittal, before bending to kiss your smirk off your face, "Wait, so, you're not mad?"

You shook your head, rising to your tiptoes to kiss him again.

"Nah, it just means we have more time in the bathtub" He hummed at that, hand on the small of your back traveling lower. "To wash!" You admonished. He didn't look chastised at all. "And after that… you can make me breakfast"

His smile was real this time, big and open.

"Of course, anything you want… Papa will give his malyshka everything she wants"

"Ew, stop!"

His laughter filled the bathroom, and your heart, with warmth.

The end?

#aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova smut #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #ben barnes #smut #modern au #actor!Aleksander Morozova #grishaverse

903 notes · View notes

prettymuscles · 3 months

Text

I'm taking requests!

Do you have a male model / adult star / actor you would like to see transformed in the style of my blog?

Feel free to "ask" me or message with one requested picture per week or the name of a desired model and I'll see what can be done!

A few tips:

Do not send: Pictures with head turned far to the side, looking over shoulder (may work if toward camera), looking drastically up, down or away from camera; these usually generate bad results due to the algorithm (hair in places it shouldn't be, face not really feminized, etc.)

Best pictures to use are high quality, well-lit front-facing modeling or selfie-type pictures, similar to the ones below

No AI generated pictures please, try to keep it to actually existing people

Beards can make things complicated, but not impossible: if the picture is high quality enough, and the face is front-facing, faceapp can usually remove the beard without issue, although it does have trouble differentiating beards from skin on darker skin tones (which is a shame, because many non-white men look beautiful when the filter is applied!)

Low-quality / non-HD quality pictures are extremely difficult to make work; I recommend the picture be sized at least 700 x 700, but ideally higher than 1000 x 1000 for best results

The absolute worst pictures, unfortunately, are bearded men looking far to the side, down, or up - faceapp cannot deal with a confluence of several issues relating to the visibility of the face

If your submitted picture doesn't work for whatever reason, I may try to find another picture of the model / actor in question and use that one instead, but I can't make promises if there aren't many pictures of the person in question available.

Please see these two examples for how to get some of the best results:

#biceps #bodybuilder #bodybuilding #female muscle #fit girls #hot male #jock #men #muscles #muscular #pansexual #pecs #pretty #queer #sexy content #photoshop #digital art #male model #male beauty

12 notes · View notes

the-new-pokespe-futures · 1 month

Text

With everyone making their own Toxic Chain Possession Aus and me being huge a fan of them, I think it’s time that I took my own take on the Au! I’ll start things out with the peach himself: Pecharunt.

Now, a few things to note, I’m really bad at drawing so when it comes to appearances, I’ll try my best to describe them, with all that said, let’s start with him!

Pecharunt in my Au (no name yet), sort of has a snowball effect when it comes to his role in the story. He mainly appears in the base game but only in the Naranjuva (Naranja + Uva) academy. Later, his role ramps up through The Teal Mask and The Indigo Disk, before finally becoming the main antagonist in the final 2 (new and original) stories (by me).

But wait, how does he appear in the base game if he’s stuck in Kitakami? Well, let’s start by listing how he looks like in his various appearances:

His shell form is more or less the same as a regular Pecharunt, however, the colour is now more of a magenta colour but leading into looking like a Pecha Berry, the nubs on top now resembles more like the leaves. The circle area where his eyes were now vaguely resemble crossbones but act like a mask, his eyes are also yellow in colour with a magenta filter. However, he also has a visible miasmic aura and several curved gaseous toxic spikes around his shell, which can be used to fling them out like missiles or shorten them and use the shell to fling himself as a wrecking ball.

In his revealed form, his body shape is more or less the same as the original, but with some differences, his eyes are now Teal in colour with yellow markings underneath his eyes. His ‘hair’ is now a mix of indigo and magenta, and his hands are scarlet (left hand) and violet (right hand), both being darker in colour. He has a mouth but doesn’t show it unless when he’s talking, and has the same skull crossbones like mask on his face. And from the halves of his shell (which have more cracks than the original), 2 chains that are claw-like at the end come out from there, acting like fists.

Now, it still doesn’t explain why he appears in the base game. It’s not like he has a human form right?

…

Ok he does:

in his human form, he goes by the alias: 'Momotaro' (Reaaaaaal subtle, I know). He’s roughly 14-15 years old, so, around Florian and Juliana’s age and height. His skin is the same as people living in the era where momotaro takes place. His eye colour is magenta and his hair remains the same, albeit, it now more resembles canon Pecharunt’s hair. He wears the summer or winter uniform depending on the month. He also has a scarlet glove on his left hand and a violet glove on his right. As you can tell, he attends Naranjuva Academy just 1.5 years before The Twins (Florian and Juliana), why did he do it? Well, no one knows.

During The Teal Mask DLC, he wears the same summer outfit but during the 'Festival of Masks', he dons a traditional Japanese outfit reminiscent of Momotaro, except that it's now in his colour scheme. He also wears a mask that vaguely resembles his shell form.

During The Indigo Disk DLC, he wears the same uniform as Florian and Juliana. Although, at times, he does wear a Scarlet uniform and a Violet jacket.

Personality: Pecharunt is calm, collected and intimidating simultaneously. He is also extremely patient, seeing as he waited 7216 years in preparation for his plan to be carried out. He's also a quick thinker and adaptable in a fight, being able to use information he had noticed against his opponents and exploits them in order to use it against them. Pecharunt prefers fight over flight as it allows him to test his skills and learn what he can do better. Despite his serious demeanour, he's shown to act casual at times, especially with his generals. Pecharunt sees the Loyal 3 and his generals as valued allies, like a tight-knit family. He also will kill anyone that stands in his way of his plans, but he prefers to erase their memories instead since he finds killing 'too messy'. As Momotaro, he's a bit anti-social, preferring to stay alone and read books. He's also a bit meek and shy when communicating, this may be an act though, he has a bit of Matpat in him, being a theorist. Once you get to know him, he can be a pretty nice guy. However, this makes him the prime target for bullies, but he doesn't say anything. When he's battling another trainer, pray he doesn't clobber you instantly. His team is stupidly strong and he does not give his opponent a single chance to attack. He would normally say this before a battle starts:

"In this battle [insert name], I'm gonna put you through hell before you die..."

This is the most common variation but there are others as well.

Next time, I'll explain his powers, abilities, Pokemon teams, history and trivia next time. Until then, this is me, signing off!

#pecharunt #pokemon dokutaro #dokutaro

9 notes · View notes

azureaqua · 2 years

Text

Oh my, She did it again! (a.k.a Ikevamp artbreeder edits, this time - Pt. 1)

Well, well.... I've been kind of inactive for a little while. You might wonder what I worked on? This. And many other writing projects, but mainly this.

Am I impossibly slow? Yeah, I am.

(It's clear that if I have a writing block, then I just go to artbreeder lol.)

— But this time I really tried to make them the most realistic! I also (kind of) learned to use the 'race' filter in artbreeder, since all of these guys are legit European/Asian history figures. So I figured it would be appropriate.

Btw, this one gets multiple parts as well!

↓

Part 2 here!

• Arthur Conan Doyle

(He was fairly easy, to be honest. I was surprised. Other than his hair shape and hair color, I like it very much! But I think even those don't make that big of a difference. I tried to put a greenish tint into his hair? It's really faint. But other than that I like the little, sly smirk that makes Arthur Arthot. I also tried to make one where he has his glasses on, but it changed his hair and face a little bit, since the program is like this, so it doesn't look that good... Plus, I tried to draw on his ear cuff, but you can't really see it.)

• Theodorus van Gogh

(Now, Theo wasn't as smooth as Arthur. In my opinion his face isn't that hard to capture; he has strong, manly features, harsh eyebrows, an intense stare and maybe pursed lips? But it's not THAT easy to make him look genuinely good. Also, to make him similar to Vincent - or vice versa -, so not just their blue eyes match, but some other characteristics too. His hair is off, again, but it's really hard to make the exact hairstyle come true in these edits, but Theo wasn't even the hardest one here..!)

• Vincent van Gogh

(I could say the same to him as Theo, basically. His features are fairly easy to grasp and his design isn't complicated, but they're still brothers! The first prototype I had for him was good, but way too different than his younger brother. So, since I was done with Theo by that time, I mixed his face into it and it actually got better! Now, he has a stronger jaw, like Theo, and the curve of his mouth and eyes are similar too! All-in-all, I'm more satisfied this way! This has that angelic glint though! I also almost forgot to draw on each of their earrings oof.)

• Dazai Osamu

(...Well, he's the only Asian in the mansion other than Sebas (and canonically MC) so to be honest I don't know what to think. He looks Asian, but his features still feel way too generic? I edited his eye color and hair a little bit, to make him look more like the game design. But it still feels off. I'm not an expert on Asian faces and features, probably because I'm European and because I didn't know what to do more with him? The full picture doesn't look that bad, but I can't help and feel that something's missing oof. Plus he has a bit of and elf ear, unintentionally. His smile is nice though!)

• Isaac Newton

(I struggled with his hair color more than his features. I mostly looked at their 'profile pictures' in the game, and Isaac has that semi-glare, uninterested expression there, so I tried to mimic that in the first place. But his hair, ugh, that wasn't smooth at all. While I edited his eye color later, I thought I should do something about his hair, but in the end I left it as is. It's not bad, it's just way darker and more brown-ish, than the original design. But I don't hate it! I think it's cute.)

• Sebastian / Akihiko Satou

(He was a fairly easy and fast edit, just like Arthur. He's Asian, I'm not an expert on his features, and the game didn't do justice for his Japanese genes, if I might add. But of course it's a game, and I was the one who chose to go after a more realistic design! In general I was just lucky that most of the residents were European lol. But I like him too! I think I could've worked a bit more on his stern stare, and maybe his mouth, but changing the lips' shape is difficult in artbreeder, so I left it at that. But hey, he came out pretty handsome!)

• Napoleon Bonaparte

(He, too, was kind of a struggle as well. I had made two semi-finals, before this one. But I still think I didn't do his game avatar and European origin enough justice. But his face stands out in my opinion, so I'm satisfied with it at the same time! It was impossible to edit the white ends on his hair and I didn't wanted to do it after anyway lol. I don't think it's that bad without those. His eyes are not as nice 'emerald green' colored than in the game they like to call it, but they are piercing! And I think I captured his stare well!)

Part 2 coming soon! The purebloods and the others will be there!

There's still more to uncover!

247 notes · View notes

metfell · 1 year

Note

Do you have any advice for drawing with markers? I'm trying to improve and wondering how you do it so well

alright yes i do. okay so markers are all about LAYERS of color. so here's some WIP's of a work i did recently we'll walk through some tips.

so step one here is the sketch. you'll want to get either a kneaded eraser or just be careful, and lightly erase over the entire image. this picks up loose graphite, and keeps your markers from smearing gray across the entire thing.

so i lay down a base layer. this isnt actually one marker though, its three. using the lightest marker, block out everywhere youre going to color. use circular motions or a brushtip if you can to avoid streaking like what's in this shot. then, if you have markers of very similar hues, begin darkening the picture where you need to. in this case, it was the ears and side of the nose.

remember: YOU CAN ALWAYS GO DARKER, YOU CANNOT GO LIGHTER.

i then went in to block in her makeup, the tulip, and darken some of the shadows. you can see specifically in the ears and neck that ive used the smaller tip of my chisel markers to slowly transition it from one marker to another. blending doesnt exist in markers. you just need to IMPLY a gradient. the flower is a good example as well. use multiple markers, and slowly make your way from one half of the gradient to the other.

a lot of what i can do is due to the fact i have so many markers. if you need large marker packs and cannot afford copics, try arrtx. that's what i used for the flower in this.

when i draw hair- something i know people want to know about a lot- i start with my lightest color, and sketch in the directions the hair is flowing. for stelle here, her bangs swoop down and to the right, so thats the direction i will lay down those colors. its like painting.

also in this, you can see how deep ive made the insides of her ears, and how ive used a dark gray to line her face and give it shape.

this shot is also a good example to show how i fucked up on her earrings, and since i cannot go lighter, theyre going to be tinted gray now. just something i forgot to keep in mind.

alright theres a lot to talk about in this one. firstly, let's talk about UNDERTONES. to give your piece more depth and life, you can go in with other colors besides your main shading color- in my case, gray- to make the piece pop. ive switched to a light purple, and have added it as a highlight to her cheeks, tips of her ears, and hair. it brings out her hair, and makes it seem fuller. less flat.

a lot of how i use markers is with curved strokes and many colors to sculpt out an image, rather than just filling in the lines. this is why i add line art last.

okay one step at a time with the finished picture.

first step here is line art. youll notice how i dont harshly outline every single part of the piece. instead, i lightly go around areas i think need defining. i outline her horn cuff, i outline her ears, her eyes, and then i loosely go around her hair with similar strokes to when i sketched it in the first place.

second step is a white gel pen. it can be a simple jelly roller theyre really cheap. just make sure it works. if your pen isnt rolling smoothly, try warming it up in your hands by rubbing it quickly between them. if not, try multiple pens before buying them. bring a piece of paper to your local michaels or hobby lobby or other craft store, and see if it rolls smoothly on YOUR paper. then, go around anywhere that needs a highlight. i did this over her eye markings, her makeup, tiny dots over her earrings, and over her hair to once again round it out.

my final tip is to adjust your pictures in some kind of editor once you are finished. i went in just using the basic iphone settings, and messed around with it until it matched what i wanted the pic to look like. in this case, i turn the highlights to the left, and played around with the temperature and tint settings, and messed around with their basic filters. honestly, just play with it until you think it looks good.

those are my tips for coloring! i hope this is comprehensible!!

#art advice #metfell art #ask #anonymous

108 notes · View notes

southerndragontamer · 6 months

Text

Egotober Day 13: Mirror

What did it mean to be a mirror of someone? So alike, but so different at the same time. That was the question that ran through Roman’s mind as he sat in bed and sketched out a moment from the DND campaign Thomas was doing with his friend Terrence. It was such a creative game that he couldn’t resist.

His room, or rather their room, the room of Creativity was one that Thomas hadn’t visited yet. Being it was split between himself and Remus it was….interesting to say the least.

Half of it was a bedroom/study that looked like it belonged in a castle. Four poster bed, many comfortable pillows and blankets in gold and red with cream accents. Disney merchandise along shelves, a bookshelf, window with a nook overlooking the forest and a desk with paint and ink marks all over it. Roman wasn’t as methodical as Logan about his neatness, at least all the time. His art supplies were in a system only he recognized, but the room was neat enough you saw the floor and he kept his bed made and clothes clean.

Remus’ half….not so much. His rose red eyes looked over to where his twin was on his stomach, kicking his legs as he was likewise occupied with his own sketchbook. In shades of black and green with silver accents, his room was a full on mess that would make the clean minded all faint on sight. Clothes piled everywhere, bedding in disarray and the only reason the prince didn’t need a gas mask was because Imagination filtered it out. There was horror merchandise on shelves, a bookshelf with dog eared, torn books, a scuffed mess covered desk and the broken window overlooked a darker forest.

But there was something that was a familiar sight to him. Art supplies in a system almost the same as his, even if they were more covered in dried paint than his own.

The Duke’s poisonous green eyes looked up, his mustache quirked as he grinned mischievously at the Prince. He propped his cheek on his hand. “What’s that look for brother dearest? Oh no, you’ve been thinking haven’t you? I smell the smoke from here.”

Roman rolled his eyes and despite himself a smile tugged at his lips as he watched Remus wave a hand around in faux disgust. He scoffed to hide a chuckle.

“Ha-Ha very funny Remus. Yes, I have been thinking. About how we’re a mirror of each other, we’re so alike…yet so different.”

Remus hummed softly and he rolled over onto his back and wriggled up to set his head in Roman’s lap.

“It’s not that big a shock, if you want I can take you to meet Mary. She can give you quite the shock, that girl is something else! And maybe try to bite your lips off, but I can smack her with the morning star and she’ll know you’re not food. We went to this great bar for drinks-“

He pinched the bridge of his nose in the way of exasperated siblings everywhere and he cut off his twin’s ramble quickly but gently as he began to idly stroke Remus’ hair.

“I mean it’s just a bit confusing since we weren’t always twins. I did compare you to looking in a funhouse mirror before.”

Remus let out a content hum at the affection before he responded voice soft for once.

“It’s not really that far from the truth Roman. We may have been Creativity in full once, but when we had to we split. I was a bit more like you when Thomas was younger…but as time passed he saw two different kinds of creativity. I got most of my power from when he was a teenager. You know that time where everyone is stupid, gross, into the dark and taboo.”

“And that’s where the Intrusive Thought part of you began to manifest and where my Passion did as well.”

Roman finished for him in a similar soft tone. He sighed and twisted s bit, so he could curl around Remus and set his head on his stomach. He smiled as he felt their hands subconsciously join and Remus squeezed softly. They both knew that the prince only thought like this due to how he wanted to ignore his mental crisis of everything not really being as black and white as he’d thought, that had reared it’s head when Janus properly introduced himself and challenged everything he thought he understood.

Virgil had helped as much as he could, and he had tried bless his anxious heart, but it still wasn’t that simple for Roman to confront that part of himself yet. He knew he would soon enough, and when he did he’d have not just the others beside him, but his twin as well. Because they were each other’s mirror, where one went so did the other.

#Roman #Fanciful Prince #Remus #Intruding Duke #Sanders Sides #Thomas Sanders Fandom #Fanfic #South Writes #Egotober 2023 #Quick note! I haven’t actually listened to Roleslaying with Roman yet #But I couldn’t resist including it because it just *fits*#Roman and Remus’ relationship is a fascinating one as twins #I go by the headcanon/fanon that they were once one Side Creativity that split as Thomas grew older #And as Thomas’s interests changed and developed so did both new sides of Creativity #Thus the Roman and Remus we know and love today #Had to add that hurt/comfort at the end with twin cuddling #And the allusion to Roman’s as yet unfulfilled character arc #Like I have a headcanon for it being a big confrontation against Pride and all the Sides back Roman up #And Roman is faltering against his own power #And Remus steps up and clocks Pride with his flail like ‘don’t you dare hurt my brother you *beep*! I’m the only one allowed to do that!’#is it a flail or a morning star???? I see both used and I genuinely don’t know XD #But yeah I could do a fic with that scene alone

13 notes · View notes

workingforitallthetime · 1 year

Text

well this sure is 1.5K of f/f gavin/seamus, isn't it

“That girl was flirting with you.” Gavin flops backwards onto her bed.

“Who?” Seamus is at the mirror scrubbing a wipe along the line of her eyelid. She folds the cloth over, looking for a clean spot between streaks of the eyeshadow that made her eyes look even bigger and darker and sadder than usual.

“The lacrosse one.” Long blonde hair, longer legs. Taller than Seamus. Or Gavin.

“She wasn’t flirting with me.” Seamus tosses her makeup wipe toward the trash can. “She’s one of the ones who saran-wrapped Kienan’s moped.”

“She held your hair back at the water fountain.” In the dorm lobby, completely unprompted, as everyone filtered in from a Saturday of parties and meandered their way toward the elevators. “She was absolutely flirting with you.”

Seamus squirts toner onto a cotton pad. “You’ve held my hair back.”

“While you were puking,” Gavin protests.

Seamus gestures like Gavin’s just proved her point, but it’s not the same thing. Holding your friend’s hair back while they puke is just helping. Holding Seamus’s hair back at the water fountain — gathering up all those thick dark curls, letting your fingers brush the back of her neck— that’s flirting. Which is why Gavin’s never tried that with Seamus.

Seamus leans into the mirror, carefully blotting her face. “Just because every girl flirts with you doesn’t mean they’re flirting with me.”

Gavin doesn’t even try to argue the first half of the point. But even if Seamus doesn’t have Gavin’s brand of adorable butch magic, the kind that beguiles queers and converts straight girls, plenty of girls ought to be into the busty Irish barmaid vibe that Seamus has going. “Doesn’t mean they’re not, either.”

Seamus makes a skeptical noise and shakes a nearly empty tube of something over her palm, trying to expel the contents.

Gavin’s suddenly conscious of her own nighttime routine: considerably easier, and already completed. Teeth brushed, sports bra tossed over her chair, jeans and crop top replaced with boxers and an old t-shirt. Done.

She repositions her pillow behind her head. “Would you ever?” she asks Seamus, while Seamus is distracted with the sad empty wheeze of whatever skin care product she’s after.

Somehow it’s never occurred to her to ask. Gavin always figured Seamus would tell her if she ever had anything to say. Gavin hadn’t had any hesitation about telling Seamus, pugnaciously spitting out I’m gay while they were stickhandling in Seamus’s driveway six years ago, using Seamus’s momentary confusion to swat the puck out from under her.

Seamus suddenly gives up on the tube in her hand, tossing it into the garbage can with a clunk. She rummages through her basket and comes up with dental floss instead. “Yeaaaaah…” The syllable draws out uncertainly as Seamus pulls a length of floss out of its case. She doesn’t sound unsure about the answer. She sounds more unsure about sharing it with Gavin. “I never have.” She leans in close to the mirror and works the floss between her molars with precise movements. “I don’t think I’d know how.”

“It’s easy,” Gavin scoffs. “You’ve kissed guys, you can kiss a girl.” Although Gavin’s not 100 percent sure how far Seamus has gone with guys, even. Seamus never told her about anyone in the picture while she was at the program. And from what Gavin’s seen this year, guys don’t really seem to… stick. They’ll be around for a few weeks — a study partner, a coffee date, a string of notifs superimposed over Seamus’s lockscreen photo of her and Gavin at U18 worlds — and then gone without explanation. Seamus never looks too upset. Gavin never asks.

Seamus flicks the used floss into the trash can and turns to face Gavin. “It seems pretty different.”

Gavin can’t remember whether the Team USA shirt Seamus is wearing is hers or Gavin’s. Same with the faded Florida Alliance t-shirt Gavin’s wearing. Now that they share a dorm room it’s pretty much stopped mattering. Seamus keeps sneaking her laundry into Gavin’s basket and Gavin keeps letting her get away with it. “I could teach you.”

Seamus looks away so quickly it’s almost a flinch. “You would?”

“Yeah, sure.” It’s not like Seamus would be the first straight girl who’s learned the ropes from Gavin. It feels a little more… high stakes, maybe… with Seamus, but why should it? What good is a gay best friend if she can’t teach you how to hook up with a girl? Gavin can do a little gay mentoring, equip Seamus to kiss whoever she wants. Anybody at all. Just… like, hopefully not anybody from the lacrosse team. Or anybody else tall and blonde. Gavin swings her feet over the edge of the bed and sits up. “C’mere.”

“Like now?” Seamus shifts her weight uncertainly from one bare foot to the other under the hems of her pajama pants.

Gavin pats the mattress next to her. “Yeah, now.”

“Can we at least…” Seamus goes for the light switch without finishing her question. Gavin lets her. As Seamus’s feet whisper across the floor in the darkened room, she wonders what Seamus doesn’t want her to see.

Her eyes adjust as Seamus perches on the edge of the bed, one leg tucked under her so she can face Gavin. It feels familiar. They could be eight years old, in Gavin’s bedroom in Florida, crunching wintergreen lifesavers to watch the sparks. They could be fifteen, in a hotel room at a minor hockey tournament, Seamus trying to draw lip liner on Gavin for the awards banquet. Eighteen’s not so different. It’s not so different to see Seamus’s face, bare and vulnerable, when she closes her eyes as Gavin leans in to kiss her.

Gavin’s ready to show off a little, but isn’t she always. She tucks a finger under Seamus’s chin and tilts her face upward into Gavin’s best entry-level kiss, warm and slow and searching, the kind that usually makes straight girls forget they came to the party hoping to blow Adam or Rutger.

It doesn’t quite work on Seamus. Her lips are soft, but she’s so tense Gavin can feel her grinding her teeth.

Gavin pulls back. “Relax.”

Seamus sucks in a deep breath like she’s been putting it off while Gavin was kissing her. “Sorry.” She covers her mouth with the back of her hand. “You don’t have to…”

“Oh yes I do,” Gavin says, murderously. Now she’s determined. She’s going to win the… well, whatever it is, she’s going to win it. She’s going to get Seamus started off right on whatever fucking journey she’s headed on. She grips Seamus’s shoulder loosely and gives her a little shake. “Just, like, breathe, okay?”

Seamus nods quickly. “Okay.”

Something about the smallness of her voice burrows underneath Gavin’s bravado. She takes Seamus’s face between her hands, and it’s like she’s holding all of it, all thirteen years of shared history twined together like a French braid, cradled in her palms. “Okay,” Gavin echoes, softer, and brings their lips together.

She doesn’t bother taking it easy this time. Just goes in mean and hungry, but that’s nothing Seamus doesn’t already know about her. Seamus finally relaxes, mouth falling open soft and easy, when Gavin catches her bottom lip between her teeth. Maybe because it’s exactly what she’d expect from Gavin.

Gavin lets one hand drift down the line of Seamus’s neck and trail along her collarbone. She traces a fingertip over Seamus’s shoulder along the line of her bra strap, just a little tease to build on when Gavin decides where she wants to take this.

Seamus leans into the kiss. Gavin can feel the catch in her breath, the yearning angle of her head as she follows Gavin’s mouth. But as Gavin’s hands wander, Seamus’s hands sit uselessly in her lap. “Touch me,” Gavin murmurs against Seamus’s lips, punctuating it with a stinging kiss.

After a breath, Seamus carefully settles one hand at Gavin’s side, just above the waistband of her boxers. Gavin twines a hand in Seamus’s hair—god, all that hair, thick and dark and cloaking a pocket of pure heat against Seamus’s neck—so she can hold Seamus in place, lick deeper inside of her. Her skin feels raw, hypersensitive, anticipating Seamus’s touch.

Seamus’s hand stays tentatively at her waist. More like she’s steadying herself than touching Gavin.

Gavin breaks off the kiss. “Okay…”

Seamus immediately drops her hand, as if they’re all done here.

“Hold on.” Gavin crosses her arms and strips her t-shirt over her head in one seamless motion. Her nipples tighten with the sudden coolness, the awareness of exposure. “You have to actually touch me.” She tries to level Seamus with a challenging stare.

It misses the mark. Seamus’s eyes are elsewhere, looking at Gavin’s tits like she’s never seen them before. Gavin can’t quite read her expression in the dark. Maybe cautious. Maybe hungry.

She cups Seamus’s hand in her own and lifts it to her breast. “Here.” Gavin waits a moment before withdrawing her own hand, wondering if Seamus can feel her heartbeat quickening. Seamus looks up at her, eyes so dark that Gavin might drown in them. She doesn’t pull away when Gavin releases her, shifting her hand instead so that Gavin’s breast fits in the curve of her palm.

“Oh.” Seamus barely breathes it. She brushes her thumb over the tip of Gavin’s nipple, feather-light.

Heat ripples out from the touch and pools in Gavin’s belly. She closes her eyes and arches into Seamus’s hand. “Yeah, there.”

#and then i remembered i should be focusing my smut energy on my WIP #instead of allowing my brain to cough wlw yearning directly into my notes app

37 notes · View notes

dr-jem-nutcase · 1 year

Text

MvA: The M Files, take-a-peek, pt. 5

Chapter 6:

Dr C's origin story video was a 20-second one-take recording of his accident, so there's little to no room for any deviation from the movie. Still, may this NOT disappoint

Gotta love alliterations but carnage means "widespread murder". And I don't think this sort of kids' book would be willing to show a bloodbath

I just realized, where are the stairs leading to those massive doors?

A pin-up in the audience, wth? Even the guy to her left is saying the same thing

Genetic teleportation device. Makes sense cuz teleportation was the topic of scientific research & experimentation in both Fly movies but this time the bug mutation is intentional. The video game only talks about the genetic part: recombinant DNA (fact: this term wasn't coined until the 70s, so Dr C was ahead of his time). Thanks, M Files, for a better elaboration beyond just a scientific machine

Is it just me or have the illustrators eventually said, "heck with it! let's just get this done & over with!" and got lazy? Taking a look at the last two chapters/the last post, I'm beginning to wonder

Ok, we get a better visual of Dr C's hairstyle. I put this pic in a grayscale filter and his hair in the movie was definitely darker than this ash brown-blond color (I like to think it's dark brown)

That shirt & tie. So much for that turtleneck. But from what I've gathered, the illustrators for a number of kids' books about the movie were given art references (besides the concept art) from DW months before the movie came out. Dr C's swap from the tie to the turtleneck didn't happen until later in the making of the movie; pretty much all the concept art of him show a shirt & tie. I don't know about you but I wanna see that reference art, every piece of it! As a fan of this glorious franchise, may my prayers be answered!

Whozits. Lol

Srsly? Portable phones, or phones that didn't require a cord, were a thing of dreams in the 60s. And what kind of haircut are you guaranteed? A trim? A buzz cut? And chocolate tastes AWFUL after you brush your teeth, and the average adult doesn't drink hot chocolate on a regular basis. It's coffee, if anything. Or even more realistic in the early 60s: a phone that lights a cigarette. You ever watch mid-century period dramas like Mad Men or Call The Midwife? Every other person smoked back then--anytime, anywhere! But this is a kids' book, again. Smoking/tobacco use is nowadays a reason for something not to be rated G. Istg, my inner historian has been doubled over & screaming in pain since this chapter began! Ok, enough whining

The fat guy's constant *ahem* cracks me up tho

Was this presentations of scientific discoveries or a glorified science fair? Dr C had discovery in mind while the fat guy had fair in mind. Imo, that genetic teleportation device was way more practical than a phone with hygiene & hot chocolate powers, not just super scientific

Unsurprisingly, Doc had his own fanbase on a university campus

Say "they called me crazy but I'll show them" without saying "they called me crazy but I'll show them"

Ok, is it just me or did the color pallet change on this page?

Didn't think that the machine was red. Also, the shirt is now black

"Whoops! I made a mistake!" "Just keep going, Jim. We've got a deadline."

So, he's just going with it without actually testing it on something else? That IS mad

I wish we saw more of his face in this instead of the back of his head

Dr C foretold Neil Armstrong's famous landing-on-the-moon quote

O...m...g. You can tell the illustrators had the hardest (or laziest) time with this chapter. I can barely look

A PhD in dance, mind you. A PhD in anything doesn't make you a faultless god

Oh! And go back inside if you want peace & quiet. And if you must, lock the door

Now both the tie and shirt is a different color

Reclining in the trash can, lol

I'm honestly the university campus hasn't been entirely vacated at this point

Welp, if climate change doesn't work, we know where to go...wait this was the 60s. Never mind

So, you've got a washing machine, an oil barrel, two tires, a traffic cone, maybe a bike chain and...what else?

That day, the middle of September 1962, a distinguishable sound that would haunt a secret prison facility for generations to come was born. This lines up with my h/c that being partially human mentally on top of the trauma of the accident brought on some amount of insanity

That tie must be magic. It changed colors again

Omg! Just call that slipper out for what it is!

"Hey, Jim? What's that shoe thing people wear in the morning?" "I forget. In this panel, it's in a junkyard, so just call it an 'ugh'."

In the movie... "Ooh! An old ugh...I mean, slipper!"

That is one heck of a net for that tiny fishing pole

The antennae sticking out of the net

Ooh, Monger's a major now, but how'd he know about Dr C?

But srsly. Is this chapter perfect? No. But I like it for giving "human" Dr C a bit more time than just a 10-second camera footage of a hottie in a lab coat getting into a giant cylinder. I don't know about anyone else, but it gives me more of a comprehension that Dr C's a human being with a cockroach head and tendencies, not just a strange anthropomorphic bug person

Epilogue

The End! Oh, wait!

So the jetpack has a flamethrower? Hot dang...literally

Link lifting a weight with his tail, lol

Blue-eyed Dr C with a gold tie pulling out...what is that? A bra? The illustrators must hate his guts

Poor private Grime. And what are the monsters supposed to do with potatoes? I think B.O.B. & maybe Insecto are the only ones who would eat potatoes, and Dr C might try potato battery experiments. But why so many? Did Monger stop by local gleaners or a food bank/pantry? Was this a donation of charity? Did he accidentally go over the top with potato crops at his farm? I don't get it! But quoting Samwise Gamgee, "Po-Tay-Toes! Boil em, mash em, stick em in a stew!" There's probably a thousand and one things you could make with potatoes. Like vodka--oh, wait! Kids' book

Grime must've been like one soldier online who said he could cook minute-rice in 58 seconds. Still, I feel bad for the guy. Do you know how hard peeling potatoes can be on your hands after a while? Ow, ow, owie...

Overall, not a bad book. Disappointing every now and then, but hey! Kids' book. It was kinda expected. The watered-down, non-violent breakaways from the movie had its ups and downs. Like providing some explanation of details of the origin stories in the movie, like why the tomato and dessert topping. Or the idea that luring a monster into a trap is the ultimate way to capture one, MUCH more scaled out and less violent than fighting them until you get the upper hand and force them into submission and/or tranquilizing them, like tranquilizing Susan and then tying her down when she became too drowsy to fight and eventually consciousness in the movie instead of luring her into a trap (like, how would you lure a confused, scared 50-foot bride into a trap when all she can think of was her fiance's safety and why people were wrapping a rope around her arm?). If you thought this book was a disappointment through and through, I read the graphic novelization, and it is a bigger disappointment than anything in this book. More watered down, the illustration was terrible, and some of the rewritten scenes didn't add up with the events of the movie, like wth. I think I threw it out

I hope you enjoyed this take-a-peek series as much as I did. And maybe I can share the second half of the entire book, a story called Brain Pain, a silly entertaining story about the four monsters (BOB, Dr C, Link, & Insecto) in the facility some time before Susan showed up. Maybe :)

Again, none of this belongs to me, as much as I wish it did

#monsters vs aliens #mva #dreamworks #general monger #general w r monger #childrensbooks #dr cockroach #dr cockroach phd #insectosaurus #doctor cockroach #the missing link monsters vs aliens #kidsbooks #bob mva #benzoate ostylezene bicarbonate

25 notes · View notes

brilapse · 2 years

Text

Hiiiii I got a new bra as you can tell by the tags LOL it’s actually too small so I need to get a bigger size :O

Also, this particular colour filter makes my hair look reallllllly dark- but the previous pics I posted, that vintage colour type filter makes my hair looks lighter than it is- it’s not near black like here and it’s not a lighter/ brown like in the ones before lol - it’s more of a chocolate brown. A darker brown.

#mine #me #personal #my post #my life #myself #selfie #my photos

59 notes · View notes

dreambirb · 10 months

Text

Here are my Genshin Impact OC's

Sheesh, it's been a hot minute since I last posted, but I'm back. I've been on a huge genshin high recently, especially with the event that's coming up (as a respectable Kaeya simp 😌), so I've been coming up with some OC's and how to weave them into my own interpretation of the story. I've got two that I'm going to dedicate this post to. Also, since they were made for my own self indulgence, they will take the places of Aether and Lumine (sorry Lumine/Aether stans). I already made a few sketches of them too, I will post them here soon. Anyway, their names are Poca and Coatl. They are twins from Natlan and are traveling Teyvat together to catch up with their older sister, who is also traveling. Here's more about them.

Coatl

The older brother. He has a Pyro vision and is a sword user. He is the louder one of the two, and does most of the talking. He's more confident, but also doesn't have a filter when he talks to people. He never holds back and always says what comes to his mind impulsively. I'd imagine he tends to sound angry when he talks, even when he's not. At the very least, his voice almost never sounds monotonous when he speaks. He's not stupid, but he tends to be reckless. Very stubborn and impatient, too. Though, his impatience comes from wanting to avoid procrastinating at all costs, much like Keqing. He's also confrontational and tends to look for arguments when he's bored, making him butt heads with Poca a lot. Despite that, he's brave and hardworking, making him very reliable as a traveling partner. He has a very strong will too and will do whatever it takes to get what he wants. Very ambitous and competitive, especially when it comes to physical strength. Loves learning about the different disciplines in combat, he loves any activity that's athletic. Appearance-wise, his complextion is darker than most characters in genshin, he has tanned skin. But his complexion is lighter than his twin's. If he were an in-game character, his body type would be medium male. He's pretty short, only being slightly taller than Poca. Due to vigorious training, he has a very muscular, athletic build with a few scars on his body. His hairstyle looks like Tanjirou's from Demon Slayer. Same color too, black with streaks of red. His eyes would be red too. He has thick eyebrows and freckles on his face. His color palatte would have reds, oranges, green, and yellow.

Poca

The younger sister. She has an electro vision and is a catalyst user. Coatl does most of the talking, so she comes off as quiet to new people. Despite being the more reserved one, she is also straightforward when talking to people. Sometimes, this makes her come off as awkward, but it's mostly because she's nervous and doesn't want to come off as weird or make others uncomfortable. Even though she's more quiet, she's not like Alhaitham who doesn't like to talk to people and actively ignores them. Quite the opposite, she loves talking to people, she just has a really hard time with small talk. Once she warms up to someone new, she becomes more relaxed and less serious. Often has mood swings, pretty intense ones too. One moment she's laid back and joking around, the next she's panicking and in distress. Has an innate curiousity and likes to learn about certian things. She tends to hyperfixate on certain things like bugs and crawlers. The thing she enjoys hyperfixating on most is spiders. Is very prideful of her intelligence and doesn't like being condescended to. Though she's not good at expressing affection, she's very loyal to her friends and family. She's protective of the people she cares about and will defend them whenever she can. For hobbies, she likes to draw, knit, sew, basically anything that's hands-on. As for her appearance, her complextion is darker than her twin's, it's like a tawny brown. She has short purple hair, about shoulder length. She has purple eyes, wears round glasses, and has a mole on the side of her chin. As for her body, she's slightly shorter than Coatl. The best way I can describe her body type is that it looks similar to Moana's. Though she's not as physically strong as Coatl, she's pretty fit and has a bit muscle on her arms and legs. Doesn't look as sturdy as Coatl, she looks more...fluffy? That sounds about right. Her color palatte would have purple, pink, yellow, and orange.

And I think that's all I got. I'll post some sketches soon ✌️

#genshin impact #genshin impact oc

7 notes · View notes

luminoustico · 2 years

Note

Sherlolly #1 (Soulmates AU) please? Something with a happy ending?

1: soulmates au. Also for @juldooz who wanted the same au.

Mycroft knew his brother was up to something when he walked into his bedroom, because Sherlock shot up to his full height and glared. Mycroft sighed, leaning against the doorknob.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Sherlock said quickly, all hair and height, disappointingly stereotypical for a young teenager. The high of his cheeks went beetroot red.

“Mummy says that dinner’s ready.”

“Fine,” Sherlock said tightly, hurrying to the door and skirting past Mycroft. He yelped as Mycroft grabbed his arm.

“That hurt!”

“Be quiet,” Mycroft snapped, yanking his little brother to his side. He turned the inside of his brother’s arm upwards, towards the hall light. Marker pen was scrawled across his skin. Mycroft’s smile sagged as he realised what it said.

“Oh Sherlock…”

“I told you, it’s nothing,” his brother spat, wrenching his arm out of his grip. He tugged at his sleeve uselessly. “I was just experimenting.”

There was a horrible silence between them for a moment. As ever, Mycroft was the one who broke it. “It’s okay,” he said slowly. “I won’t tell our parents.”

“Don’t tease me,” Sherlock spat.

“I’m not—”

It was too late. Sherlock had disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door hard enough to shake the door off its hinges. The sound of running water filtered through.

“Boys!” called up the voice of their mother. “Stop fighting and come downstairs!”

Mycroft squared his shoulders, clearing his throat. He hurried downstairs, greeting his mother with a kiss on the cheek. Their family had suffered enough; it wasn’t his place to create further upset to his brother. He just had to manage it, that was all.

—

SOME YEARS LATER

The rain was pouring down. The London traffic crawled by, sleek saloon cars alongside hatchbacks with dents in every panel. That was something to admire about traffic jams; they could be a wonderful social leveller. Sherlock flipped up his collar as he opened the door, preparing to step out into the rain.

“Sherlock,” said a soft voice behind him, and he quelled the temptation to roll his eyes. Turning instead on his heel, he faced Anthea. She had only the hint of a smile on her face, peeking out from underneath a large black umbrella.

“Don’t you get tired of being my brother’s gofer?”

Anthea, quite admirably, didn’t dignify his jab with a reply, and instead gestured to the car just pulling up alongside the pavement.

Sherlock eyed it, weighing his options. He could go through with his original plan; get a taxi, buy some takeaway and try to ignore it, as he had been doing for weeks now. On the other hand… the rain really was pouring down, and Mycroft’s drivers did always make sure the heating was ‘just so’.

With a half-hearted grumble, he climbed into the back of the car. Anthea slid in beside him, shaking off her umbrella and fetching her phone from her pocket.

The drive was shorter than he imagined, and didn’t, for once, take him to some dilapidated warehouse or empty office building. Instead, it took him somewhere worse. Far worse.

Molly Hooper’s flat had, in the past, been a place of refuge for him. She had taken him when no-one else had, when everyone else (even his brother) had lost their patience and thought he’d continue to slip down the drain; she’d let him sleep there, among familiarity, when the strangeness of being a dead man walking got a little too much.

Now, it loomed over him, the windows darker than he’d ever seen them, the door an intimidating shade of yellow.

The rain had petered off during the too-short drive, and Mycroft was stood on the pavement, leaning on his cane with his right hand, his left hand tucked into his pocket.

“Hello Sherlock.” In response, Sherlock tugged the collar of his coat up to line his chin. Mycroft stared hard at him. “Don’t hide.”

“I’m not… hiding.” As he spoke, the car door closed and its engine started, easily pulling away. Sherlock looked at the flat again, blowing out his cheeks slightly. Nowhere to hide, nowhere to escape to. Just as his brother wanted.

“I don’t know if you remember this, Sherlock, but when you were younger…”

“I know what you’re referring to.”

“What, then?”

“I was embarrassed about the fact that I hadn’t got my - mark - yet, so I tried to fool everyone by writing a name on my arm every morning. Until you got wind of it and told our parents.”

“I had to tell them Sherlock.” Mycroft sighed. “Mummy would’ve found out eventually anyway. She always did.”

“Not about everything.”

“That was a low blow. Which I shall ignore. If,” Mycroft added, and he pointed with the tip of his umbrella towards the windows, “you go up to that woman and stop denying reality.”

Our family is very good at denying reality, Sherlock thought bitterly. Against his worst instincts, he followed the line formed by Mycroft’s umbrella and stared up at the window. A lamp had been lit, lighting the curtains in a low sunset hue. A shape, small and obviously upset (going by the hunched shoulders), entered the frame.

“It’s very easy to get scared. You had your mark since you were a boy. Mine came the moment she got engaged. Is it any wonder I think I’m broken?”

“We’re all broken in this family,” Mycroft said softly, after a pause soundtracked by traffic. “The most radical thing we can do is find our piece of happiness and not let go of it. Everything I do is to protect my happiness, and help you find your own. I admit,” Mycroft continued when Sherlock opened his mouth with a retort, “I made bad decisions. Very bad decisions. But you have a chance to be better than me.”

Sherlock felt the temptation to squash his brother’s vulnerability with a cruel barb, but his eyes could only focus on that small silhouette.

He’d hurt her too many times to hurt her again.

Squaring his shoulders, Sherlock stepped forward and knocked on the door.

The silhouette withdrew from the frame. The yellow door swung open. It took some silence, but Molly Hooper carried forgiveness in her eyes as she smiled.

“Took you long enough.”

“Too long,” Sherlock said, glancing to his wrist. The name ‘Molly’ was etched like a delicate scar into his skin. He was still getting used to the itch that came when she came near, but right now, as he stepped forward and embraced her in a gentle kiss, the itch became a warm tingle, casting a fuzzy glow around his eyes. “Far, far too long.”

#mizjoely #answered #sherlolly #sherlock x molly #otp: we'll start with the riding crop #ch: sherlock holmes #ch: molly hooper #sherlock #i like the request for a happy ending #implies i might just be too invested in tragedy lately lmao #also hello hi again nice to meet you sherlolly!#i still love you #you still own my soul

68 notes · View notes