#what god did i accidentally appease | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

curvykittyyssmutfics · 5 months

Text

corrupt!Satoru refuses to let go of his little sorcerer girlfriend when he becomes a vessel: Sure things have changed a bit.. Okay, a fucking lot. He's been put on a temporary leave by Yuji and the others till they can figure out a reverse. Which unfortunately for you means he's got all that time in the world to focus on your guy's relationship. "Y/n!" The unanticipated shout of your name almost makes you jump out your fuckin skin, quickly scarfing down a scolding hot piece of bacon so you don't choke. Dammit, you thought you could enjoy a nibble of breakfast before having to appease your master boyfriend. You pray to any God with a heart that Satoru wasn't too pissed at you for not being by his side when he awoke. From the goosebumps creeping down your neck and eerily sudden silence surrounding you, it's an obvious useless hopeless wish. "Why the fuck weren't you next to me when I woke up? Did I not say havin you by my side at all time keeps me from becoming.. Murderous?" The sudden presence and growled query compels you to spin around, starin up at him with wide frightened eyes. He's shirtless, gazing back with an unreadable expression as his magnificent morning wood bulges obscenely. "T-toru, I -" His hand damn near teleports to hold you firm around your slender brown neck. "Know what? I don't really feel like hearin whatever pathetic excuse is about to fall from those cute lips, baby. On your knees." He tells you, pushin you down with one hand while pullin his dick from his dark grey joggers with the other. You comply, eyes teary at how he glares down at you menacingly. "Better not disappoint me twice this morning, y/n. No tellin what I might do.." He warns, head falling back as he slips his dick into your mouth with a sinister smile on his pretty face.

corrupt!Gojo monitors the fuck outta who you talk to and where you go: If he can't have you near him 24/7, he NEEDS to know 1. Where you're goin; 2. Who's gonna be there; and 3. When the fuck you're comin home to him. "You're late. Fuck are you, little girl?" You're never gonna get used to the snarl that consistently stains his tone, even when he's not irritated. You're late coming back from what was supposed to be research on a curse, so Satoru calls you. "Just by a few minutes. I'll be there soon." You assure him, pullin your cell from your cheek briefly to check the time. "I didn't ask how late you are; I asked where you were." You don't waste a second droppin a pin. There's a bit of shuffling over the phone before he speaks again. "I'm on my way to pick you up. Stay where you are. Better be alone like you said, y/n." The line clicks dead as you heave a heavy sigh, makin sure not move an inch till you see Satoru pull up.

corrupt!Satoru doesn't do well with anyone besides himself being mean to you: Slamming your front door shut upon entering, you stomp towards your bedroom as tears of frustration leak from your eyes. You don't make it past the couch in the living room before Satoru's sittin down on it, perching you in his lap. "Who fuckin did it, baby? Huh? Tell me! I'll rip their fuckin head off." His gruesome words don't match the soft imploring look in his piercing eyes; you miss that look so much that the truth spills from your lips without a thought. "I thought I'd make it to Grade 2 today.. It didn't happen. They brought in someone new. Some jerk that failed me cause I wouldn't let him touch me." Your hands slap over your mouth, the last sentence accidentally comin out before you can think. That unreadable expression graces his features before you end up face down in the couch, panties swiftly pulled to your thighs as he eats your poor unsuspecting lil puss from the back. "What the fuuuuuck? Toru, ah! S-satoru, wait. Please just- ohmyGod!" Ofcourse he ignores you. Slurps ya cunt so good that you cum in under a minute. Only then do you get a response. "Get the fuck up. We're goin back up there. Gonna have a lil chat with Mr. New Guy." He commands you, landing one more lick up your slit and a harsh slap to your ass. You leveled up that day. And Mr. New Guy was gone by the next. Yuji and the others don't bother standing in Satoru's way.

corrupt!Satoru loves marking your body and staking his claim: He doesn't think a day should pass before he's adding a new one to the collection. So he corners you when you're in the kitchen doin the dishes. "Hey gorgeous. Wanna make you cum real quick.." He mumbles, pressin up behind you. His hard cock humps your backside slow and firm as he fingers you through your itty bitty shorts. The first swipe has you poppin your ass back on his dick, keening Satoru's name like a fuckin banshee. "That the spot, princess? Yeah it is.. Know all your spots. Just like Daddy should, huh?" His tone is so cocky but you know better than to disagree and nod to his question anyway. "Yeeees, only you can make me feel like this. Always make me feel so goood, Toru." He soaks in your praise and at this point it's a givin that you've completely abandoned your task. A damp hand slides to the back of his head for a handful of his soft snowy locks as he nips and sucks at your neck. His sensual lips are one of your weaknesses; never fail to make you whimper like a bitch in heat. "Satoruuuuu.. Daddy please. Want some dick.." He chuckles at you, wonderin if you can even handle it- not like that would stop him. Still, your knees are already so you weak he has to hold you up, arms slung around your waist to plaster your back to his front. "Fuck baby, so pretty when you beg for my cock. Look even prettier when you let me claim you like this." Fine, he'll give you what you want. But first.. He pulls his lengthy dick out, your small shorts down, and slips it between your plushy brown ass cheeks. Your boyfriend's eyes nearly cross at the tight warm hold of you. Satoru pants and huffs, quickly starting off with short strokes that numb his mind. "I'm gonna fuck this perfect fat ass one day, y/n. Thats right, and you're not gonna be able to stop me. You can beg and cry and scream all you want.. Mmmfuck- but Daddy's not gonna listen, baby. Not one bit. I'm gonna keep goin till you squirt all over me from the feelin of it." Precum assists him slidin back and forth with ease, but his filthy words aid the throbbing in your clit and flutter in your gushy cunt. You only moan back in response to his dirty admission. Its okay. Satoru knows you always get like this: speechless when you're about to cum. Goddamn you turn him on so fuckin much. He bites at the sensitive spot on your throat, locking his teeth and groaning like a wild man. It makes you clench around his dick, him in turn pressin his digits with an accuracy that forces you to cum so good. "Good fuckin giiiirl, baby! So proud of you. Takin my mark and cummin on my hand- fuuuuuck. I own you, princess." Your quick wordless whines spur him on, fingers still yanking his hair viciously as your arousal spills to the kitchen floor. The sting of the pull has Satoru howling while he cums buckets in you. He's licking messily at the fresh bite on your neck as he smears his nut all over your plump ass. Fuck, you always make him buss so fuckin so hard! He's breathing fast, eyes flickin between where he paints you, your new bite mark and how fucked out you look even though you haven't had his dick yet. Speaking of, why the hell is he still so goddamn rigid? But you.. "You're so fuckin wet.." Satoru spears you on his cock without a second thought, your loud stunned cry makin a warmth shoot up his spine. He doesn't know when your hand joined the other in his hair, just cherishes how tight you grip at him when he fucks the rest of his cock into you. Appreciates and adores any and everything you have to offer. 'Shit.. Guess its time to put a baby in you.' Satoru thinks as he holds you round your waist and drills your lil puss as you shout out in surprised pleasure. Christ, he loves you so fuckin much and he's never letting you go.

corrupt!Satoru In layman's terms: He shows you that he is very fuckin possesive and owns you in every conceivable way.

413 notes · View notes

cherievol6 · 1 year

Text

frown

word count: ~800 words

warnings: none, it's just harry being cute

harry's frowny and you're teasing him

“I thought you looked a bit mean when I met you.”

Harry stops playing with your hair and tears his gaze away from the boys kicking a football around. The tour bus is parked on the gravel beside you to shield the world from your small group, though the area you stopped to stretch your legs was fairly secluded anyway.

“You what?” The amber setting sun casts over just one of his eyes when you look up at him from leaning against his chest. It makes the one eye look like a polished green marble. He looks slightly confused, a frown dug between his eyebrows, but a slight smirk starting to grow on his lips.

You shrug. “Yeah. That night we met in London, you looked all scary and mean with your long hair and your signature frown.” You giggle quietly, mimicking his facial expression that he almost always had etched on his face.

Said frown deepens, and he pouts out his bottom lip for further effect. His voice is defensive when he replies, before giving your hair a slight tug. “Yeah, but- I bet when we spoke you thought I was nice as pie!”

“Well yeah. I wouldn’t be dating you now if you weren’t.” You laugh reaching a hand up to wrap a ringlet of his hair around your finger. He pout his lips before he grabs your hand and kisses your fingers.

“I don’t like the idea of not looking approachable. I don’t want people to think I’m rude.” He mumbles, letting out a breathy laugh.

“Oh, H. I’m only messing. Plus, for the record, you didn’t look so scary when I finally plucked up the courage to talk to you,” he smiles at this, and you can tell he’s fishing for a bit of validation, so you appease your boyfriend, “especially not when the first words that came out of your mouth were just word vomit. I knew you were a bit of a lover boy from then on.”

You recall it fondly, Harry looking like he owned the damn place when you walked past him with a crystalline glass filled with liquor and a face like thunder. You watched him for a few minutes that night and noticed he was surrounded by the boys, but didn’t really have anyone to talk to. At that point, you bit back your fear, because when would you ever get the chance to do it again? His frown had instantaneously wiped from his face when he got a glimpse of you stalking towards him with a mischievous look on his face.

“My god.” You mimick Harry’s throaty gruff he’d accidentally said aloud when he saw you approaching that night you met. His loss of composure had given you a massive confidence boost - an ordinary woman like you could make Harry Styles speechless.

“Alright, shut up. You looked really pretty in that black dress…I wasn’t thinking with my brain in that moment - if you know what I mean.” A small blush creeps up on to his cheeks and you grin from ear to ear.

"Oh yeah? Dirty bugger." You tease.

"I meant my heart, obviously..." He uses his sarcastic tone and you scoff.

"Yeah, I'm sure you did." You laugh, rolling your eyes and trying to push his arm away. He locks you in a vice grip and plants a loud smacking kiss on your cheek.

"If we're being honest right now, I was frowning like that because I wanted to come up to you earlier that night, but some random silver fox beat me to it."

"So you were sulking?" You cackle, sitting up and pinching his cheek, before dropping your voice, "you being a bit jealous is kind of sexy."

He scrunches his nose.

"I wasn't sulking." He says (in an ironically sulky way).

“Aw, H. You have me now, though. Unless that silver fox is hanging around here..." You playfully pretend to search the pitch for the man that tried to chat you up that night. Harry rolls his eyes and gently pinches your top and bottom lips together to close them. His playful frown is back and you try to reach up and rub the creases from his eyebrows.

"I wasn't even listening to what that sleaze was saying," Harry frees your lips and you hold his chin, "He actually caught me looking at you a few times when he was trying to tell me all about his boats in France." Harry laughs through his nose at this, a smile spreading across his face at that.

"Yeah?" He mumbles, brushing your hair behind your ear.

"Yeah," you hum, running your thumb on his bottom lip, "I told him I was only interested in new money. Boy-band money--"

"Right! That's it." Harry grasps your wrists in his hand and rises both of your bodies quickly, hoisting you over his shoulder in a fireman's lift.

"Harry!" You bark out a laugh as he starts to walk to a line of trees.

"Boys! I think we need to ditch her here, she's only in it for the money!"

hiiiiiiiiiii. this is short but sweet!!! not my best but i thought i'd feed you just for a little longer until i finish my last uni exam (ON FRIDAY YAYYYY). on the home stretch. kissy.

also i have some things in the works ;)

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #boyfriendrry #harry styles story #harry #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles concept #cherievol6 #harry styles boyfriend #boyfriend!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

1K notes · View notes

daddy-dins-girl · 8 months

Text

Kinktober 2023 Pt. 1 - Dave York (Somnophilia, Frottage, Virginity)

Masterlist

AO3 link

Summary: It's Dave's birthday, and you have a present for him. Then again, maybe it's more for you.

This fic covers days 2 and 7 of @absurdthirst's Kinktober 2023 challenge.

Dave York x Virgin!Reader (babysitter)

Word Count: 4.2k

Notes: Me: Ok, I can do this, I can write some smutty little kinktober drabble, no problem! Also me: Writes 2500 words of backstory and character development before a stitch of clothing even comes off.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Explicit smut. Cheating, infidelity (it's the York's y'all, come on, is it even Dave York fanfic if one or both of them aren't banging somebody else?). Age gap (Reader is 21, Dave is in his 40's). Virgin (but not inexperienced) Reader. Consensual Somnophilia. "Just the tip" (but like actually tho). Frottage. Vaginal and clitoral stimulation (aka pussy rubbing). Accidental creampie (whoops). Drug use, kind of? (just over the counter sleep aids). Dave York is his own warning. Uh.. if I've forgotten anything, lmk. I think I've given away half the story already in the tags! At least you know what you're in for ;)

There was an excitement thrumming through your veins as you sat in the living room waiting for the York’s to get home, not really paying any attention to what was playing on the TV because your mind was elsewhere.

The two children you were caring for, Molly and Alice, have long since been tucked into their beds and asleep and now you were just waiting for their parents to get home. They typically weren’t gone for more than a few hours. It didn’t need to be said that that was more than they could stand of each other if their children weren’t there to serve as buffers, that much was obvious to just about anyone who spent enough time around Carol and Dave. Apparently however just not to their friends who they had to go out with and appease, pretending their marriage was still perfect. That’s where the York’s found themselves this Saturday night, out with friends celebrating Dave’s birthday that was coming up in a few days.

It was a good job for you though, Mr. York always paid you handsomely. Anytime you’d come over to babysit he’d leave the same amount of money in an envelope on the kitchen counter for you. A fifty dollar bill for you to order food for yourself and the two girls (which was way more than enough, even with the delivery charges and tip, to cover anything the three of you could eat) and a crisp hundred for yourself for your services which you thought was way too high, considering they were never gone more than 2-3 hours. The first couple times you’d tried to give him the change from dinner but he’d shoved the twenty back into your own palm and told you to keep it so now you’ve stopped trying to argue and typically walk away with at least $120.00 a night, which was pretty good for a 3 hour gig for a 21 year old who lives at home while attending school. You didn’t know what Dave York did for a living - something in government, you think - but apparently whatever it was it paid extremely well.

The hard rain coming down outside was hitting the large windows of the York’s extravagant home in sheets and truth be told you were more than glad that there was practically a hurricane going on outside. It actually fit into your plans perfectly so you just watched the storm rage on outside from your comfortable seat on the sofa, a small smile on your face while you waited for your employers to get home.

Within minutes you heard the loud hum of the garage door opening up signaling the York’s arrival and you clicked off the TV, pretending to be interested in something on your phone and acting casually as a minute later you heard the door connecting the house to the garage open and Carol and Dave spilled inside.

“Oh my God it’s madness out there” Carol practically shrieked and Dave immediately shushed her loudly, reminding her of their sleeping children and Carol put a hand over her mouth but laughed uncontrollably still.

Yep, she was wasted, as usual.

“Oh hi, Mr. and Mrs. York” you greet them sweetly, standing up from the couch and coming over to the hallway leading to the entryway where they were taking off their soaked jackets, likely from their walk from whatever restaurant they had been at to their car.

“Oh hi sweetie. How were the girls?” Carol managed to ask, you’re not sure how she got the words out, given the way Dave was literally having to hold her up by her elbow just so she could kick her shoes off.

“Oh they were great, as always” you promise. And they were, Molly and Alice were rarely any trouble. This was by far the easiest babysitting gig you’d ever had.

“Pay the girl David, I need to go to bed” Carol groaned, leaning into her husband’s shoulder for support. Dave rolled his eyes. First of all, he had already paid you at the beginning of the night, like he always had and you’d think his wife would know that by now, and secondly he absolutely did not like how she was all but dismissing you without even thanking you or saying more than five words to you.

“Um, Mr. and Mrs. York,” you cut in, before Dave has a chance to say anything. “I was thinking, you know, the rain is coming down really bad and I don’t really like driving late at night as it is, I thought maybe I could stay over?” You asked politely. You’ve done it numerous times on occasions that they were sure they’d be home late, they had offered you their spare room in the basement so you could go to sleep once the girls were in bed if you had wanted to. Most times when you stayed over it was because you were already asleep when they’d gotten home, but on a couple occasions you’d stayed over even when you were still awake when they got in just because of how late it was.

“Sure, whatever sweetie” Carol waved a flippant hand at you.

“Of course you can” Dave finally spoke, his voice louder and firmer than Carol’s. Dave rarely came home with more than a drink or two under his belt because he typically drove. You also got the feeling that he knew he had to have all his wits about him when out with his wife so he could be a glorified babysitter himself.

“Thank you, Mr. York” you said his name sweetly, a coy smile playing on your lips that went unnoticed by Carol but intentionally noticed by Dave.

You left Dave to wrangle Carol up to bed and made your way down to the basement, getting ready for bed and then pulled your phone out to type out a quick text to the man of the house before you tried to get some sleep.

Cum see me l8r. Got a present for you to unwrap😉. You know the rules. xxx

You took a breath. You were excited and yet nervous, never having done anything like this, specifically, before. You reach over to the night stand and pick up the small white tablet, pop it into your mouth and wash it down with some water before you lay down on the bed and wait (im)patiently for sleep to take over.

Dave’s phone pings in his pocket once he’s finally gotten Carol into bed. She was tugging at his tie and belt and trying to drag him into the bed with her, mumbling something incoherently about a “birthday blowjob” and he could do little but roll his eyes. He was in no mood to have his completely drunken wife undoubtedly fall asleep on him with his cock half way down her throat. Besides the fact that he knows exactly where her mouth has been the last eight months or so which had been the final nail in the coffin that was once their active sex life.

So instead he leaves her there and heads off into the ensuite to shower, pulling out his phone to check his text from you along the way and smirking to himself when he reads it. He doesn’t reply. He rarely does. Sometimes it’s a power move. He likes you to squirm, wondering if he’s read it, what he’s thinking, if he’s as insatiable in his desire for you as you are for him. Mostly he doesn’t reply though because he doesn’t like paper trails. Not that he thinks you would, but the last thing he needs is you screenshotting your conversations with him and sharing them around with your friends or something.

Dave brushes his teeth, gets into the shower, then heads down to the kitchen to relax for a bit, sipping a beer and catching some highlights on SportsCenter. He doesn’t want to seem too eager and part of him likes to keep you waiting. Finally after a couple of hours have passed since he received your text he clicks off the TV and goes in search of you.

He moves through the basement rec room and to the closed bedroom door, pulling the small key out of the pocket of his sweatpants and using it to let himself inside, ensuring to lock it behind him. He’s the only one with a key to unlock the door from the outside so he doesn’t have to worry about anyone interrupting anything.

He makes his way over to the bed where you’re lying on your back. There’s a bedside lamp that’s turned on to its highest setting so he has no trouble making anything out in the room, he assumes it's intentional.

“Naughty girl” Dave mutters to himself when he sees what’s waiting for him. You’re lying there perfectly asleep on top of the bedclothes wearing nothing but a tiny camisole and simple yellow cotton panties with a small pair of red cherries right in the center like a goddamn bullseye and a tiny little tied red bow at the top.

Got a present for you to unwrap. Your words ring in his head and he’s half hard already just from looking at you.

He assesses the rest of the room and his eyebrow raises when he sees what’s on the bedside table, a tiny blue box with the logo “Sleep-Eze” on it and a half drank glass of water.

“Jesus Christ” Dave huffs out a breath, pushing a hand through his hair.

You had a conversation recently one night when you were lying in bed together the last time you had stayed over at his house and he came to see you (as he always had). You had confessed that a fantasy of yours was to wake up to having an orgasm. Dave was hesitant at first, for multiple reasons. One he didn’t like the idea of getting off on someone who was effectively unconscious, and two he argued that you’d wake up way too easily if he was doing his job well enough.

You told him you’d figure out a way to help with the second problem which, Dave presumed, was the reason for the sleeping tablet. And as for the first, you told him if he really wasn’t comfortable he didn’t have to, it was just something you had always wanted to try but had never trusted anyone else to do it.

And you did, trust him. The last line of your text, ‘you know the rules’, he did know the rules. Well, rule. It was really just one when it came to you.

No penetration.

At least, not with his cock. You weren’t a total prude or anything but you were a virgin (hence the cherry panties he supposed… cute little vixen). You grew up in a very religious household and although you didn’t quite believe in waiting until marriage like your parents had taught you to, you did want to wait until it could be with someone you loved and that just hadn’t happened to you yet. Still, despite this, you were sexually active in plenty of other ways that certainly seemed to keep Dave satisfied enough. For now anyway. You worried he might get bored of you but it hadn’t happened yet and it’s been nearly six months. Despite his aggressive and controlling behavior in bed he always respected your one rule and didn’t pressure you to cross it with him. He probably knew that before long you’d be begging him for it anyway and he was probably right. Your resilience was waning a lot. And it wasn’t just the sexual desire, though that was obviously a huge part of it, but you felt a connection to Dave you had yet to find with anyone else you dated, especially boys your own age who were exactly that - boys.

Dave was sweet to you when you least expected it. When you’d aced your midterm paper that you had spent weeks agonizing over, a dozen roses showed up at your parents doorstep the next day with a card nestled inside with a single phrase written on it. “So proud of you. D.”

When you had briefly mentioned one night that you desperately wanted tickets to the Taylor Swift concert but weren’t willing to fork over your entire college fund to get them, the next time you had come over to babysit in addition to the usual $150.00 in the envelope on the counter there was a pair of tickets to the Eras Tour Boston show with a small note stuck to it in Dave’s familiar scratchy handwriting “take one of your girlfriends, and have fun sweetheart”. You idly wonder who he had to kill to get them.

Then there was the day your brother had been shipped off to his first tour of Active Duty and you couldn’t be emotional about it in front of your parents because you had to “be strong for your brother” (their words). You had texted Dave when you finally couldn’t be in that house another minute pretending your whole world hadn’t just changed and he had picked you up from the corner of your street, driven to a secluded parking lot and pulled you into the back seat with him where he just held you for hours while you cried in his arms. You told him stories of your childhoods growing up, how close you’d been and how he was your best friend and whole world; your port in the storm against your strict parents and the only person who truly understood you. Dave sat there calmly, listening to every word, brushing a comforting hand through your hair or occasionally pressing his lips to your temple when another wave of tears hit you. He promised you that you never had to be brave or strong in front of him if you didn’t want to be, he would be there to hold you up. Be your strength when you had none left to give.

And when you had told Dave about a guy that had gotten a little too “handsy” with you at a Frat party - despite you repeatedly asking him to leave you alone - well, come to think of it, you’d actually never seen Thomas again after that night. You safely assume Dave had something to do with it though.

So yes, Dave was much more than just a warm body to you, and you for him, you presumed, and there was no one else you trusted with your body like you trusted Dave.

“Fuck” Dave muttered, hand coming down involuntarily to palm over the bulge growing beneath the elastic waistband of his sleep pants. You looked goddamn adorable when you were sleeping, Dave noticed immediately. Little mouth half open, head rolled to the side with your hair spilling over the pillows, and the rise and fall of your chest putting your perfect round tits on display for him under the threadbare top.

Apparently getting over the first hurdle was going to be easier than Dave thought.

He pulled his sweats down and kicked them off, leaving himself in just his boxer briefs and t-shirt and crawled onto the bed on his knees until he was between your legs, sitting back on his heels. He began by experimentally running his left hand down your leg all the way to your calf and then back up to your thigh, waiting to see if you’d stir at all and - nothing. Your breathing never faltered, body never twitched, and satisfied, Dave moved on to what he knew you were waiting for.

He started slowly, gently. He brought his hand to rest on your hip and his thumb reached down to stroke you over top of your underwear, pushing all the way down into your slit and back up and repeating the motion over and over again for a minute or so until he began to feel the unmistakable wetness begin to pool behind the thin cotton barrier.

“Good girl” Dave hummed to himself, then brought two fingers down on top of where your clit would be and began rubbing tight circles around it. Your hips jerked slightly and he stopped immediately like a deer caught in headlights, eyes shooting up to yours only to find you still fast asleep and he let out a relieved breath. It was just your body reacting to his touch but thankfully he hadn’t woken you. He knew what you wanted and he wanted to give it to you and he knew he had a long way to go before he brought you to a peak so it was far too soon to have you waking up already.

“That’s it baby” Dave praised when a little whimper left your lips but you simply snuggled further into your pillow. “Back to sleep”

After another couple minutes of soft caresses of his fingers he took his hands away momentarily to grab for one of the decorative pillows that had been tossed carelessly aside and he carefully lifted your hips to settle it underneath you, raising you slightly for him so he wouldn’t throw his back out leaning over you for what he wanted to do next - for what he knew you were waiting for him to do.

Once he’s got you in the position he wants he hastily tugs down his boxers, shuffles closer towards you on his knees and groans when he takes his own length in his hand. He’s painfully hard already and his head is weeping precum and he hisses through his teeth when he loosely grips his cock and starts pumping his hips, effectively fucking his own hand while the head of dick pushes into your still clothed sex.

“Oh fuck,” he groans. The combination of your own wetness and his leaking tip have caused a giant wet spot on your panties, leaving them basically transparent as he continues dragging his cock through your folds over your underwear.

This had quickly become your favorite thing to do with Dave, once he had tried it once, promising you he wouldn’t go inside but just wanting to be close to you. He’d rub your pussy with his cock until you came - which never took long - and you’d practically begged him to do it every time you were together since. It was near fucking torture for Dave, being so goddamn close to burying his cock deep inside you like he so desperately wanted to. He could do it. It would be so fucking easy. Especially right now. But he wouldn’t. If there was one thing Dave had in spades, it was self control.

Dave checks in with you again, makes sure you’re still asleep and you are, though your face is a little scrunched up now, not as peaceful looking. It looks like you’re dreaming and are a little unsure of what exactly is going on. He knows he probably doesn’t have a lot of time left to get you to cum before you wake up so he moves on to the final stage. He slips his dick under the soaked piece of cotton through the side and continues his little thrusts with his hands now resting on the insides of your thighs and not able to help the moan that escapes him when his dick finally makes contact with your naked cunt.

“Mmmmm” you hum sleepily, somewhere between completely dead to the world and barely awake.

Dave vaguely hears you beginning to stir, the sound of his cock pushing in and out of your sopping core filling his ears and causing his brain to nearly stop functioning with how fucking turned on he is. His tip brushes against your clit with every push of his cock and he has to close his eyes and focus on his breathing so he doesn’t come before you do.

“Ohhhhhh” you whine breathily, being dragged a little closer to consciousness.

It’s the softest fucking sound he’s ever heard and he nearly comes at the sound of your desperate, meek little whimper.

“Oh fuck, Baby, wake up” Dave groans, slightly picking up the pace that his cock slides in and out of your folds.

“Dave?” you mutter, confused as your eyes try desperately to blink open. “Oh. Oh fuck, Oh Dave!” It hits you like a fucking brick wall. You're suddenly completely alert as the pleasure centers in your brain finally start firing on all cylinders again and you’re painfully aware of how incredibly turned on you are. Not to mention how close you are.

“Sweetheart, oh fuck” Dave is close to losing it himself from above you. His hand leaves your thigh to yank your panties to the side and then he grabs his dick with the other to control his movements. He watches his cock rub up and down through your swollen lips and push into your clit, repeating the pattern over and over and over and soon enough you're rocking your hips in rhythm with him.

“Oh my God, Dave. Fuck, fuck, fuck” You cry out. He feels fucking incredible and you’re desperately close to coming, you can feel it flooding your lower abdomen, the dam about to burst. You push up on your elbows, you want to watch as Dave’s cock slides through you.

“Fuck, wish I could be inside you” Dave groans. He knows it's not fair of him to say it when you’re both so worked up like this but he’s never wanted it more than in this moment.

“Yesssss, fuck, me too Dave. Wanna come on your big fat cock baby” you mewl desperately, clutching at the sheets.

“Fuck baby don’t say shit like that” Dave scolds. It was one thing to playfully tease, but saying that to him knowing full well he couldn’t do anything about it was downright cruel.

“Baby, fuck, I’m serious” you whine. “Wanna feel you inside me, just a little bit, please baby? Just the tip? I need it”

“Oh fuck” Dave literally growls like you’ve never heard before and then he pushes inside you for the first time, just the head, like you asked, and you instantly fall apart. Your walls squeeze around his tip like an unrelenting vice grip and your juices flood his cock and seconds later you feel his own hot spend painting your walls as he shudders over you and grips your hips so tightly you know they’ll be bruised tomorrow.

“Oh shit, oh shit shit shit!” Dave curses at his own stupidity and lack of control but can do little about it as he continues to spurt rope after rope of his cum inside you.

“Oh my god, Dave” you sigh dreamily, falling back onto the bed and not only unbothered, but blissfully pleased at Dave’s little indiscretion. You’ll take a Plan B in the morning, you’re far from worried about it.

“Fuck, I’m sorry” Dave pants breathlessly as he finally pulls his spent cock out of you and runs his hands through his hair and then rubs them over his face and groans.

“Baby, come here” you insist, reaching up to pull him down on top of you and you’re surprised at how easily he allows it to happen.

“Hey, it’s ok” you assure him softly, wrapping your arms around his neck and petting a hand through his hair.

“I shouldn’t have-” he begins to protest as he pushes himself up on his elbows, but you’re quick to cut him off.

“I wanted you to. Baby that was…” you trail off, literally unable to put into words how good he made you feel and so you opt instead to pull his head back gently and kiss him passionately. After a few seconds of trying to resist you, Dave succumbs to the kiss and opens his mouth to you, tongue pushing inside and melding with yours.

You pull apart only when the need for oxygen overwhelms you both and Dave rests his forehead on yours, gently shaking his head.

“You’re fucking incredible, do you know that?” He says sincerely and a blush rises in your cheeks.

“You’re not so bad yourself” you tease.

“I just had my dick inside you” Dave states like he’s reading the morning headlines.

“I remember, I was there” you giggle and he huffs a laugh in return.

“Are you um… ok?” He asks sincerely, bringing a hand up so his finger can lightly trace your jawline, his eyes searching yours for any signs of regret.

“More than ok” you promise, raising your head slightly to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“You sure? You don’t hate me?” He asks and you can barely believe your ears, maybe you were still high from the sleeping pill.

“Hate you? Baby you literally just made my wildest fantasy come true”

“Really?” Dave asks, eyebrow raised. “It was uh… what you wanted?”

“It was everything I wanted and more” you promise.

“Come here” you murmur, pulling him down to kiss you again.

You kiss unhurriedly for several minutes, just reveling in the taste of each other and the closeness you feel to one another.

“Happy birthday Baby” you hum against his lips when you finally break the kiss and Dave lowers himself from his elbows to wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace.

“Best birthday ever Sweetness” he murmurs into your throat.

Tagging @nerdieforpedro, @chronically-ghosted @macabremads

#dave york fanfiction #dave york #dave york x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #dave york x you #kinktober 2023 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal cinematic universe

92 notes · View notes

burntheedges · 2 months

Note

hihihi!!! congratulations on 600!! so deserved 🥹

could I ask for a 📜 fic rec but I happened to see that you included the witcher on the list and PLEASE the way that I am down bad for geralt

have a lovely day!! xx

hi liv!! thank you!! 🧡

oh I am so happy to rec you some Witcher fics! I wasn't sure what you might like so I went for a range? most of the fics I've read are Geralt/Jaskier but I threw in some others. I love all of these.

...

Do It Again by thisgirlsays22 rated E, Geralt/Jaskier, 6.7k words

By the twentieth time Geralt has gone through the loop, he decides to just throw himself off the cliff’s edge after Borch. He wakes up to his twenty-first attempt. “Fuck.”

makes the heart grow fonder by fallingintodivinity rated E, Geralt/Jaskier, 5.8k words

“Ah!” says the innkeeper, as the rowdy crowd finishes singing a song about Geralt’s heroics and segues seamlessly into a saccharine love ballad about the fairytale romance between the daughter of a baron and a lowly bard. “This song, it’s by the very same bard who sang those songs about you, Master Witcher! So in love, he is, with his beautiful lady.” “Oh, it’s so romantic,” sighs the barmaid dreamily. “That handsome bard, marrying a noble lady!” Geralt squints up at them doubtfully. “This…bard,” he says. “Dark hair, blue eyes, never shuts up?” “Aye,” the innkeeper says. “That’s the one.”

I haven't read this one but I have heard it's good:

Silver and Magic by Dragon_Dweller rated E, Geralt/reader, 98k

You're a Sorceress, Healer and occasional Monster Hunter, who meets the Witcher, Geralt of Rivia, when you're in the middle of fighting a Bruxa. Neither of you expected your paths to cross again...or where that path takes you both together!

and this one is more of an entire AU world the author has created -- the series has 47 works and they aren't all about Geralt and Jaskier. There's a Discord server for it. It basically asks, what if the witchers decided monsters could also come in the shape of men?

The Accidental Warlord and His Pack series by inexplicifics rated E overall, many pairings, 627k words

First work in the series: With a Conquering Air rated E, Geralt/Jaskier, 27.8k

From the kinkmeme: AU Warlord!Geralt receives Tribute!Jaskier as a sacrifice to appease him in every way possible. Jaskier has no choice on the matter and he’s fully aware of the awful rumours that have spread about Geralt and his ruthless conquests. (But we all know those aren’t legit.) A classic angst with a happy ending please! A dash of smut to heal those scars and a sprinkle of new found love! Jaskier arrives at Kaer Morhen knowing his family gave him up without a second thought, and absolutely sure that the dreaded Warlord of the North will value him even less than his own blood did. But the White Wolf and his pack are not what Jaskier expected...and if he's unreasonably lucky, Kaer Morhen might become far more of a home than Lettenhove ever was. ...He is, in fact, going to be unreasonably lucky, because the Warlord of the North is a far finer monarch - and a far better man - than Redania's king has ever dreamed of being.

And a few more of my favs:

The god of scraped knees. by spqr rated M, Geralt/Jaskier, 8.3k

Jaskier’s been pretending to be human for so long now that he hardly remembers what it feels like to be a sorcerer. He doesn’t want to remember what it feels like to be a sorcerer. But people still murmur his name with reverence in certain dim halls; Dandelion, Dandelion, destroyer of worlds.

can i offer you a little salt for that wound by ShanaStoryteller not rated, Geralt/Jaskier/Yennefer, 14.5k

Two months after Geralt breaks up with him, Jaskier runs into Yennefer at Coachella. “Oh fuck no,” she says, which he thinks is pretty fucking unfair, all things considered.

you follow? series by shortcrust rated T, Geralt/Jaskier, overall 3.6k

epistolary fic in tweets/etc. - where Jaskier is a famous musician and Geralt is his husband that the entire internet is horny for (modern AU)

I hope you like some of these? tell me how it goes? 🧡

followers celebration

#bte600 #fic rec #the witcher #geralt x jaskier #geralt x jasker x yennefer #ask me anything

13 notes · View notes

tigirl-and-co · 7 months

Text

Middle-Aged Man (But Not a Dad (Probably))

Heyooooo, back at it again with a super rough draft for a fic!

inspired by @dballzposting but especially THIS post!

Basic plot summary is Trunks accidentally imprinted on Yamcha like a baby bird but is too emotionally stunted from growing up with the least familial family in all of classic anime to realize that he's being weird as hell about it.

To nobody's surprise, it's a character study! Woohoo!

And before we begin, I wrote almost all of this while dead tired, so it's probably even rougher than my usual rough drafts, but good god I wanted to write this sooooo bad.

Obsession ran on both sides of his family. This was an issue for Trunks, as he'd really fucking rather be thinking about quite literally anything else. But here he was, at the get-together-slash-party-slash-ritual-to-appease-a-big-purple-cat-with-food-so-we-don't-get-blown-up, staring at his mom's ex from the other side of the dessert table.

And praying said ex wouldn't look up from the eclairs he'd never be able to afford otherwise and see Trunks' stupid, stupid eyes staring at him.

But he did.

Fuck.

"Hey, Champ! How've ya been, Buddy?" Yamcha said, in his stupid fucking aging dudebro voice that filled Trunks with an overwhelming sensation of warmth and comfort. He hated it. Yamcha smiled at him the way, Trunks thought, a dad smiles at his somewhat estranged son.

It was probably a kinder smile than his real dad gave when he hugged him for the first time. Not that Trunks would know. Couldn't really see Vegeta's face, too busy experiencing every emotion he could name and also being shoved against Vegeta's inhuman, statuesque form.

It fucking felt like being shoved face-first into a statue, too.

Not like Yamcha probably felt, with his all-too-human physique. There was a softness that covered his features, even though he was still as tough and muscular as ever.

He kinda reminded Trunks of the big blue guy from Monsters Inc. But like, less serious. And very slightly less hairy.

Trunks had been staring too long, but apparently Yamcha was willing to write off the icy glare as a genetic thing and not an actual threat, because he approached the teen with no hint of trepidation.

He stood in front of Trunks and hucked a thumb at the spread of confections behind him. "Yo, you tried the weird cream cake thing? The one covered in chocolate? No idea what it is, but it is good!"

Trunks tried desperately to claw himself out of this conversation with "It's called an eclair cake." He wasn't sure whether or not he had meant to sound that gruff. Either way he sounded too much like his dad, and it pissed him off more.

"Yo, what? They can make eclairs into cake? That's crazy!" Yamcha took pause and then nearly busted his gut, laughing a bit too loud like guys that age tend to do. "But I guess when you're rich, you can pay people to cook up just about anything!"

There! An opening! Trunks knew how to win this conversation and then make his getaway!

"Actually, Yamcha, I think it's just graham crackers, pudding, and chocolate. Pretty simple recipe. I can ask the cooks to give it to you."

Yamcha blinked. "R-Really? That's it?" He sighed. "Well, as much as I'd love to eat cake all day, I really shouldn't." He slapped his gut, which jiggled slightly. "I'm at that age where I've gotta start watching what I eat or I won't be in any shape to show off to the ladies, haha!"

Trunks immediately threw his gaze to his shoes. He fucking lost that interaction, and now he'd have to talk to Yamcha for however long the older man could stand him. Fuck. Well, Trunks knew how conversations worked. He'd seen the guys at Kame House get into it sometimes, and since Trunks was no longer a child, he figured he should talk like that. The ball was in his court.

"Ladies, huh? What... sort of ladies are you into?"

Fuckin' killed it.

~~~

Now it was Yamcha's turn to be cornered. Was it okay to be talking about that kind of stuff with a kid? With someone else's kid? With the kid of somebody he dated?

But he couldn't just say that! Trunks was at the age where he was starting to go after the ladies himself, and Yamcha didn't want to discourage that! He had to find a middle ground, hopefully there was an avenue in this conversation that wouldn't lead to either of Trunks' parents hitting his head clean off his shoulders.

"Um. Your-" NONONONO CAN'T MENTION BULMA. "I m-mean, I like women who..." and how is he supposed to word this? Obviously he's not gonna say 'pretty women' because that would sound so damn shallow, coming from him. "I like. When girls. Can stand on their own... but enjoy having someone around to make their lives easier? I guess?"

He ran his hands through the hair on the back of his head. "To be honest, kid, I'm not really sure anymore! The more I think about it, the more I realize that sometimes people you think should work don't, but the real crazy shi- the real crazy stuff ends up better." Yamcha laughed the kind of shitty laugh you let out when you're nervous and stalling for time. "What about you, Trunks? You a ladies' man? Got a preference?"

~~~

Well, Trunks had been expecting an answer like 'I like redheads' or 'I'm a boob guy' so he was a little unsure of his next move, but he had to think of something to say!

"Um idk there's this one YouTuber I like." Trunks crossed his arms. "So you like women like my mom, right? It kind of sucks that she ended up with my dad."

Yamcha couldn't move. He wasn't sure he was breathing, either. "H-Huh?"

"Yeah 'cuz you probably woulda been a way better husband. All my dad does is train all day and then sit at the table and stuff his stupid face." Trunks put his fist on his hip. "You like watching movies and being nice and shit. I dunno."

~~~

Yamcha was desperately hoping Vegeta wasn't going to manifest behind him and reduce him to ashes. The things Trunks was saying were weird, sure, but the whole family had always been blunt. Trunks probably didn't mean anything by it. Not that that would stop either of his parents from hunting Yamcha down if they heard.

And Yamcha wasn't stupid! He had issues with his own parents, way back when. It's what eventually led him to become a bandit out in the middle of the desert for Chrissake! But he had just wanted to be a dude Trunks could come talk to if he was having the sort of human troubles an ex-evil alien dad couldn't help him solve, and apparently he had been too approachable. Or Vegeta really did just suck that bad.

Either way, oops.

"Hey kid, l-listen! You can't just say things like that!" Yamcha sighed deeply, trying to compose himself. He was still looking around like a raccoon that could hear hound dogs braying, but at least he stopped stuttering.

And then he saw Trunks' face harden even further, scowling angrily. The tykebomb looked like he was barely resisting shouting his next statement, and Yamcha was very glad for that.

~~~

"I'm not a fucking kid! Goddamnit, I'm just trying to have a normal fucking conversation, why are you being so fucking weird about this?" Trunks would have been a truly intimidating sight to behold at this point if he wasn't three-foot-five with lavender hair. "And I was gonna apologize for suckerpunching you that one time when you stayed over, but you can fucking forget it! I'm glad I punched you!"

~~~

The older man knew he had to take responsibility here, because apparently he was right and neither of the kid's parents bothered to teach him the difference in how you're supposed to talk to people outside your own home.

...Thinking on it, neither Bulma nor Vegeta had ever deferred to authority in their lives. Vegeta had a habit of trying to kill anybody stationed above him, and Bulma either screamed until listened to or flashed her tits at someone until she got her way.

Fuck him, maybe he would have made a better parent! Too late now, though.

"No, Trunks, that's not what I meant," he reassured the stunted youth. "I want you to know you can talk to me about stuff, alright? But maybe- maybe not out where your parents can hear? The earth dragon balls can't bring me back again, y'know?"

Trunks looked back up, waiting to hear the rest of the statement.

"And I mean, actually you probably shouldn't say that sort of stuff, because it makes people uncomfortable, but-" here he took the chance of fucking it all up even worse and ruffled Trunks' hair. Trunks didn't even flinch and Yamcha didn't know what that meant. "We're already friends, right? And friends can totally say that sort of stuff. In private."

Trunks met him dead in the eye, unblinking and unemoting. "Okay."

Yamcha chuckled unconvincingly. It fooled Trunks, though. "So, were you actually gonna apologize for that gut punch, or...?"

"No."

"So, what? You were just gonna feel like shit about it your entire life? Until you died?"

"Yeah."

"Haha, okay then! Did... you want a slice of this, um, eclair cake? There's not a lot left!"

"Sure. Can I call you 'Uncle?'"

Yamcha tensed up just slightly, before letting it drain out of him. "Not where anybody who might tell your parents can hear, okay?"

"Deal."

#dbz #dragon babble #my writing #yamcha #trunks briefs #piccolo in the distance losing his shit like 'oh my god im so glad the kid who imprinted on me was normal'#HE WASN'T YOU WERE JUST ALSO STUNTED #fic #fanfiction #dragon ball #my eyes hurt.#LET ME BE CLEAR THAT I LOVE BOTH OF THESE CHARACTERS OR ELSE I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO WRITE ABOUT THEM #i just. love weird dynamics and fucked up characters who don't know they're fucked up #or like. they're just now sort of realizing it #but yeah alternate title is 'yamcha gets piccolo'd'

25 notes · View notes

aprillikesthings · 3 months

Text

Man I got through that last one fast

s4 ep8 Boys' Night Out

(This one took way longer but also I stopped partway through bc Mal the cat had zoomies and I must appease him with the laser pointer)

ALSO this ended up with multiple Our Flag Means Death references, you're welcome

Glimmer etc. save a bunch of sea elf people from a little village as Hordak destroys it, roll intro

Apparently Double Trouble is refusing to tell them anything more

also they're still arguing about Glimmer going off on her own

also Mermista is taking a long bath and eating all the ice cream in Bright moon apparently

But yeah more arguing with Glimmer, and specifically getting mad at any hint of Adora telling her what to do

Which reminds me of a quote I copy/pasted into my fic notes (I do not remember where I got it I just know Nate said it)

"I think Adora has a huge character flaw where when she feels responsible for someone, she'll do anything to protect them to the point of fencing them in and accidentally taking away their agency. She thinks this is something that she's supposed to do, and I don't think she's fully addressed this part of herself. Catra and Glimmer think it comes from her ego, but she was raised to believe she was only worth anything to anyone if she was useful to them, so really she's just trying to prove herself to them. To prove that she's worth existing, even."

and like

ouch

but yeah it's hardcore on display here

Swift Wind invites himself along lol

lol

Hordak is a big dick, is gonna try to conquer more of Etheria himself so he looks all badass when Horde Prime shows up, orders Catra back to the Fright Zone

and she's stressed out and smooths out her hair D:

the bit of this character being asleep, getting elbowed awake, and iMMEDIATELY starting to play is so funny

why does Swift Wind know the words

new headcanon: Sea Hawk was a stripper at some point

*adds to "this wasn't meant to be a Sex Joke...probably"* collection

THE PHRASING DOESN'T HELP

Look I make so many jokes about cartoon bondage, and here Sea Hawk PAID SOMEONE TO TIE HIM UP AND PRETEND TO KIDNAP HIM I just

I can't even add to that lolol

something something insert "Our Flag Means Death"-based joke here

Swift Wind: I will contact Adora via MAGIC

back to Bright Moon

Adora: "what is going on with you? I know things are bad right now, but we can fix it!" Glimmer: "Why is that always your answer to everything!" Adora:

If you don't let me fix it I HAVE NO WORTH OR VALUE AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

Glimmer: we haven't fucking fixed a god damn thing and shit is getting WORSE Adora: WELL YEAH BC YOU WON'T LET US HELP YOU,

Swift Wind: "She hung up on me!"

IS IT GONNA BE KARL

playing Sea Hawk was probably fun in general but he did in fact make seagull noises

omg it is Karl

okay so Admiral Scurvy is just like I WANT MONEY which brings me back to asking WHAT CURRENCY ARE THEY FUCKING USING

mopey kitty. do you need laser pointer zoomies, too

oh no she doesn't know Scorpia has left and is pouring out her heart not realizing nobody is listening

"Listen, I'll kill you if you tell anyone this, but...I thought winning would be different. Or at least more...I don't know, fun?"

poor bb

Back to the boys: the Horde paid their ransom 😬

oh god this is great

but also Glimmer and Adora are having a screaming match and Glimmer punches LOW, including the line "Maybe your best isn't good enough! If it was, my mother would still be here!"

I took a screenshot of Adora's face in response but I can't post it it's too sad

but anyway, bigger things to worry about

Mermista: "The boys are in trouble!!"

oh hey I remember that scene

Bow: Friendship takes work!!

that is a very good point

also let's face this episode exists in part just so we get to have an episode in which three male characters get rescued by three women :D

okay I like Mermista's song ngl

omg the double meaning of "fight with friends" catching up to them near the end of the song

and Catra goes looking for Scorpia and goes into her room and

omg this is so funny and cute

I forget where I read it (I've gone through so many interviews etc at this point omgggg) but iirc the note just says "sorry"

Back on the ship: Glimmer reaches out to try to talk to Adora--who smacks her hand away and stomps off

😬 oh boy

ADORA GOD DAMMIT

Mermista and Sea Hawk are still singing and having a good time, Bow stares off into the distance singing along, end of episode

...I took way more screenshots than I expected on this one lol

#april rewatches spop #boys night out

3 notes · View notes

the-down-upside-finch · 7 months

Note

Hi! I'd love to know more about Navigating Peril With a Compass and a God - I love the name and am very curious about it (also about Deck Them All and Half-Hour Identity??)

OH YES I will gladly tell you about them! They are all somewhat older stories that I revisit from time to time, although I would like to brush up on their plots a bit more at some point.

I'll probably include snippets I think are funny, but they're all really old bit so please bear with me ;~;

This... is going to get long, so I'll just put it under the cut now haha

Navigating Peril With a Compass and a God

I know exactly where this story spawned from. There was a writing prompt that I couldn't get out of my head: "You make a sarcastic joke to your friend about them being god-like. They don’t catch the sarcasm part of it and confess that they are, in fact, a god."

The story is in 1st person and follows the protag/narrator, Lupine Rowling, as he goes through his first year in college. (I started this story during my senior year in high school and initially had no idea how colleges worked, by the way.) His roommate, Circinus, is a bit... odd.

“Uh… yeah.” I tried not to rudely stare at the guy that was now glancing up from where he was standing; the blender was disassembled across the counter in front of him with the screws and whatnot lined up from smallest to biggest. “Who’re you?” “Circinus.” “That’s a cool name,” I said, not really knowing what else to say. It’s not exactly every day you walk into your dorm and find a stranger having broken in to take apart the blender.

Long story short, Circinus wasn't taking his duties seriously enough and got dropped on Earth as punishment, but then this becomes a problem when Lupine accidentally finds out that he's a god. (Apparently this is the plot of one of the Thor movies??? I have never seen them but that's what a friend told me.)

So they end up embarking on a quest road trip to appease the angry gods that don't want humans to meddle with their affairs (even though Lupine literally did nothing), which in turn accidentally makes everyone think these two college students have gone missing/gotten kidnapped. SO NOW THEY'VE GOT "Have you seen this person?" SIGNS ALL OVER THE PLACE WHILE THEY'RE TRYING TO BE INCONSPICUOUS.

On top of that, some of the gods naturally place a bet on the situation, so random deities keep showing up to either help or hurt the chances of Lupine and Circinus making it to their destination. It becomes a found-family story pretty quickly haha

Deck Them All

Okay this one. This one. Uhhhhh...

So, in high school, I discovered what stream of consciousness was and became literally obsessed with William Faulkner's writing, and his books are now one of my special interests haha BUT ANYWAYS--

The plot? I have no idea. I started writing it with no plan or ideas, just whatever came to my mind while I was writing. The story POV jumps around the main group of characters, all which have the most random names because I came up with them on the spot.

The characters include: Diamond, Ace, Bean, Trill, Halls, Snow, Jak, Rams, Sheeps, Socks, Verl, June, and Chirp. They're all high school students (since I started writing this while in HS).

The original draft of this story is very style-imitation as I was trying to figure out my own SoC voice, which means I ended up with chaos like this:

My chair is backing Halls if I sit in it properly and face the computer on the desk that the chair is at. Halls would be backing me, too, but he is sitting with the chair back against the desk so he is facing me as he awkwardly sits there. He is looking at his pocket or something in a weird way, fingering the fabric as if trying to tie a knot together; it’s really odd. Halls is a bit odd. But he’s a good friend. Rams thinks so and I think so and the only person that doesn’t think so is Socks and Socks is a jerk most of the time so his opinion really doesn’t matter. Halls said he cheated on a test once and Halls told on him and that’s why Socks hates him but I feel like that’s a really stupid reason to hate someone so it’s got to be more than just that. Not to mention that Socks likes Halls’s sister which is actually really funny because Snow isn’t someone I think would be the right person for Socks but honestly you never know how things will go these days. “Here, help me staple my pants.” My head whips around at Halls’s words. He’s holding a stapler out to me, holding together the fabric of his jeans on his hip that has ripped. What the heck, Halls, I think, What the heck. He imploringly looks at me, so I take the stapler. “Can’t you fix it later?” “I’ve gotta fix this now.” He turns slightly to the side, pulling the denim as far as it will stretch to allow me to staple the fabric back together. I attempt to do so, but it doesn’t hold. I try a couple more times, none which are successful. “Let’s just take it to the sewing room,” I complain. “No this will work.” What the heck, Halls. What the heck.

Honestly? My SoC voice hasn't changed all that much except I don't have as many giant chunks of text like that. I definitely want to find a way to finish it at some point.

Half-Hour Identity

This one is probably the least-developed of my short WIPs, but this is my "magical girl trope" story! It started out as a normal superhero story but then I was like. "What if the powers are transformation based and also run on a time-limit." And thus this story was born.

We've got three main characters, and (you guessed it) 1st person POV but the POV jumps between the MCs. We've got Poppy Mills, Hickory Jones, and Watson Woods, who all live together in a townhouse.

Hickory is clairvoyant, and the only one who was born to parents that didn't have powers (and is known as an "enigma"). Poppy can grow flowers from certain spots on her body, and each type of flower has a different effect when consumed (narcotic, strength-boost, healing, etc.) and Watson... has super speed, but he also gets motion sickness.

The gimmick of the powers is that once you transform, you only can stay transformed for a limited amount of time before you revert and can't transform until that amount of time passes. So, if you have an hour limit, it takes an hour to reset before you can transform again. (This is subject to change if I feel like tweaking the conditions.)

And when I say "transform," I literally mean like a magical girl transformation. It's the only time you can use your powers in this world, and the higher-ranked heroes are ones with really long limits and strong powers, which usually don't go hand-in-hand.

Poppy's limit is 30 minutes, which is where the title comes from. Watson's is stupidly long (around 8 hours), and his power is considered really strong, so he's just been nerfed by the motion sickness thing. Hickory's is stupidly short (ten minutes, max), but this means it resets very quickly and he uses that to his advantage.

Anyways... Yeah! Thanks for asking about these stories! I love talking about my ideas haha

#ZootaWrites #Zeta Rambles #About the OCs #Long Post #Snippets #Zeta Replies #the-grim-and-sanguine

2 notes · View notes

janersm · 1 year

Text

[Image description: Screenshots of two tweets by J.K. Rowling featuring screenshots of tweets by trans folks. The first reads, “Deeply disappointed @jessiegender doesn't realise purethink is incompatible with owning ANYTHING connected with me, in ANY form. The truly righteous wouldn't just burn their books and movies but the local library, anything with an owl on it and their own pet dogs. #DoBetter 1/2” with a screenshot of a tweet saying, “I will not begrudge anyone their love of past works or thing they already own that they take comfort in. I own the first 9 movies and all 7 books myself. But any support of something like Hogwarts Legacy is harmful.” Rowling’s second tweet reads, “And as for this, I'm appalled. This individual actually advocates reading the books because "nobody needs to know". All fine and dandy until you get drunk and accidentally quote one, sonny. "| never did it in public" won't save you when the police see your Hufflepuff socks. 2/2” with a screenshot that reads, “Yup. if you have the dvds and books, live your best life. They're already bought and paid for. You can read it on your own time, nobody needs to know. But don't stream it, don't buy merchandise, don't buy the games.”]

Billionaires are so fucking greedy and petty. It’s so pathetic. Is it going to hurt her or her bank account if people stop buying Harry Potter items? No, not really. Most authors don’t get a fraction of the money she’s got, but somehow they don’t go on Twitter rants when people are like “maybe don’t buy this new merch but continue doing whatever you want with the stuff you’ve already got”.

Because. They. Are. Fucking. Grownups.

Oh my god, Joanne. You’re a fucking billionaire. Let people make their decisions to buy things or not buy things without throwing a temper tantrum & saying they’ll murder their dog to appease advocates.

Who would even think that they’d kill a pet over this?

What. The. Fuck.

#authors behaving badly #transphobia #fuck terfs #jk rowling #fuck capitalism #fuck jkr #harry potter #twitter #animal abuse #the terfs are not alright #jessie gender

9 notes · View notes

yb-cringe · 2 years

Note

I could probably listen to you talk about the empires timeline for hours. It’s intresting as shit.

My biggest question is, what makes a god? Like there feels like two distinct levels of diety in this world, the ones who live in their own plane of existence, who seem to be extremely powerful (Aeor, Exor, Pearl) and then there’s minor deities (if they even are, they could just be very powerful spirits that have remnants of godlike ability in them, s1 Lizzie and s2 Joel) how did pearl become a god, like did the rapture awaken a power struggle in the universe and decide to just create a new god from it? What in the hell happened with Exor and Aeor.

Also the magic system is very loose but god that will not stop me from deciphering it. A lot of the magic IS based from the land or learnt from the land, which leads back to the titans, we’re these beings so powerful that they corrupted a magically untouched world? Is magic technically a parasite in that case?

Sorry for the ramble. Actually I lied, I’m not sorry. Enjoy.

no this is a good question. we’ll go step by step.

what makes a god?

currently, at the moment, whatever Pearl is. Back in that aeor exor story one of the first things mentioned is that in an attempt to seal away the First Corruption the gods used all of their effort and essentially put themselves all into a deep sleep.

all except aeor and exor. now we dont know if this is technically correct considering we’re hearing an old folk story from a very biased religious party and we know that there ARE other gods that MAY have survived this post-corruption nap (Blood Sheep) But since now Aeor and Exor are essentially also gone, whats left is the notion of a possible Blood Sheep God and Pearl. So, tldr; A god is whatever Pearl is.

HOW did she get there, I have a theory for. It’s one hell of a longshot though but basically- Empires works with magic as an equivilant exchange with the exception of divination based magic. If they want to do any purposeful ritual spells, there needs to be added components, a give for the spell’s take.

MY theory is that when Scott and Xornoth died, with them went Aeor and Exor mostly if not entirely. Aeor’s soul is canonically interspun with Alinar and that soul is in Scott and if HES dead, and Xornoth is definitely dead, then both of those gods have in some way, died or lost a MAJOR portion of their power.

At the SAME TIME as this, I believe; Pearl became a god! Two minor gods die, their champions along with them, the realm between worlds is damaged and weak, and Sausage casts a spell by slaughtering two sheep after promising Pearl he’ll fix this. Now i think the spell. Mightve been in some way to appease the blood sheep- point is, with that intent and the loss of two gods its not insane to think that they accidentally Deified Pearl through intent and death.

TLDR again; my theory is Pearl is the only current god because the last two awake ones were unintentionally sacrificed for her ascension and the rest are still asleep

#the titan story as well i should mention is a creation myth so were not SURE #of how real it is

16 notes · View notes

sloshed-cinema · 1 year

Text

Apocalypto (2006)

What is Mel Gibson’s goal with these historical epics he seems so fixated on creating or acting in? The insistence on using period accurate languages such as Aramaic in The Passion of the Christ or Yucatec Maya in this film would seem to suggest a desire to depict his narrative with respect for its historical sources. But underneath lies something darker. The film signals its intent from the start, opening on a title card seemingly victim-blaming the Mesoamerican peoples for being conquered by conquistadores because they were already at one another’s throats. The peoples depicted in the grand Mayan city in the central sequence certainly are in the final throes of culture, the masses suffering while the decadent few enjoy their pleasures. There’s something ghoulish about the way Gibson shoots the sequence. Human sacrifice is a horrific concept, but in finding every possible insert shot of people with bad teeth chomping on fruit and leering layabouts mocking the sacrifices-to-be, this becomes less a portrait of civilization striving to appease its gods with sacrifice to ease their collective suffering and more a carnival sideshow. The film relishes operatic misery to the point where it feels exploitative. How many times did I stop and realize that the prior five to ten minutes had been nothing but people tied to poles screaming and wailing. All shifts when the Spaniards arrive in the closing moments. To the barbaric characters following Zero Wolf, they are the seemingly the avatar of K’uk’ulkan, these ruthless killers approaching the men about to bring them nothing but Christianity, smallpox, and conquest with seeming reverence. Jaguar Paw meanwhile seems more uneasy, content to return to the forest. Cultural murkiness and inaccuracies aside, this seems to be just another colonialist piece of propaganda.

The other facet of misery comes with the shooting style. The film is production designed within an inch of its life, all elaborate body decoration and obsidian weaponry. The grand city Jaguar Paw and company are brought to is a pièce de résistance, all step pyramids and adoring crowds and eclipses. Or rather it would be but for the obvious CGI elements that seep in at the corners. Terrible motion blur comes to define the film, especially its latter half. How unfortunate it must be for these actors to suffer and get covered in various gross substances only for the camera capturing them to make everything look cheap and fake. Which we know it is, but you’re not supposed to reveal that to the rubes watching your shit. I started to question whether I’d accidentally changed settings on the TV but no, here we are.

THE RULES

SIP

Someone names a plant or animal.

Middle Eye is a little stinker.

Kids get pushed away from the convoy.

Sensationalist insert shot.

Holy motion blur, Camazotz!

BIG DRINK

Wild POV shot.

Horniness!

A dream sequence begins.

#drinking games #apocalypto #mel gibson #drama #trash #maybe read a history book my guy #action #action & adventure

4 notes · View notes

wonderloste · 2 years

Note

He sits quietly on the walls that are bare of vines, away from the any broken glass that he could accidentally get caught on. He watches how the moonlight shimmers in through clerestory windows, heart full when he hears the uncanny footsteps of the deity. Its odd. How the first time he walked in here he practically clung onto Aleister, fearful, despite being the one asking to see this place. The church was hauntingly familiar to the one he has prayed in before, he half expected dark robes and brainwashed figures to arrive and take him. And in that same night he sits there, comfortable, blinking up at the other when he notices him sit down with him. He gives a voiceless shrug to let him know he was alright, but does raise his hands to show his thoughts. ☛ We really did that did we? ☚

That being the act of blasphemy not even thirty minutes ago. Perhaps the real reason as to why he refuses to verbally speak now, far too embarrassed for the display that he had put on during that. He watches the other's lips turn upward and it causes Travis to look away, staring at the windows once more. He near still couldn't believe it. How odd it was for his view on things to change in some amount of time. If it were any other place, any other person, he would regret it down to his core. Perhaps not even come close to doing it at all.

Does he regret it now? No. Not even. And the fact both frightens and excites him. What was there to regret, really? He has taught far too many times that the word of God was law, and he continues to follow that rule as such. Maybe not the God he prayed to, but a God nonetheless. A God he respects and worships, one who has done more for him than anyone else of similar power.

And yet in that moment it didn't feel that way. It wasn't just a God and its disciple.

☛ Its weird. ☚ He suddenly says, pausing for a brief moment to adjust the blouse he had so messily put back on. It only helped little, but he'll worry about that later. ☛ Not us. Well sort of us. Not in a bad way I mean. I meant- ☚ He interrupts himself on that thought train, hands dropping to his lap with a plop as if dead weight. His body leans to the side, off the wall and stopping when it makes contact with Aleister's arm. His hair falls along with him and into his face, but he doesn't stir to fix it. The ponytail had gotten messed up during the act and thus he took it upon himself to remove the ribbon completely.

☛ You know, coupling before an official marriage was considered a sin back home. If we were to do something like this again I reccomend you do that proposal you keep mentioning. ☚ He was only half joking about it, a breath of air leaving in his attempt of a laugh. Not in a million years would he have expected this, and not in a million more would he expect to go along with it. More than that, to start questioning. ☛ There was a lot we couldn't do. No idiolizing unless its God. No shellfish. No piercings. Tattoos. Cutting hair. Divorce. ☚ He pauses now, hands lingering in the air as he speaks his next list of offence, ☛ No love of any kind to another man. ☚

His hand lowers to his lap again, tension rising in his figure as he remains seated beside the deity he has come to know more than just a simple God. If Aleister sees it, his fingers start to move again as he keeps going, though his gaze remains on the windows. ☛ All in Gods name. We weren't allowed to question or talk back. Maybe not to you, but the one we believed in. We believed any acts like this will damn us to hell. To torture and grief. That's how we lived. Trying to appease the one that we believe would grant us eternally happiness and faith. In….☚ Fear.

That was what his father taught him. He sees this now. Fear. To live in fear. To act out of fear. To be granted good enough to even be considered thinking about being given a servitude of a painless life.

☛ I wasn't worthy. ☚

Until he came here anyways.

His mouth opens in a yawn, his body involuntarily settling closer next to Aleister. Even if he realizes what he was doing he wasn't going to back away from him. From his one place of safety that he has ever gotten in both his world and this. His God. A friend. More than that.

He's silent for a few moments, one would think he had fallen asleep if it weren't for the fact that he was still tensed up from his thought cycle. He moves again now, humming in thought, ☛ Is what we are right, Aleister? For me to love another man and for you to love the one thing you were supposed to destroy. Is what we are a sin? ☚ He wasn't expecting an answer. Not the way his eyes go blank as patterns from the window shimmer from the moonlight. He was deep in his own head now and simply rambling away at his thoughts in the next best possible way he knows how without his voice. Or a pen and paper. ☛ I hope not. I feel too much. ☚ There was an underlying tone to that statement. Honesty, a desperate plea from a man who has had too much on his shoulders for far too long.

He doesn't know if fate can be rewritten but he hopes and begs to be the case. His body shifts again and now he's able to properly look up at the other. His eyes are starting to burn and he can only hope that it was too dark in here that if anything were to happen that the other wouldn't notice. One last time he prays to the God he knows, one last time he asks for peace of mind. ☛ Do you feel, Aleister? ☚

& RE : o’ my blasphemous angel / @galaxiasus.

WERE IT THAT THIS CHURCH STILL HAD MORE LEFT FROM THE ERA OF STEAM , as it is now, the Jabberwock supposes he should count his own blessings that he finds curtains in the crumbling backrooms, overgrown with flowers but simple enough to rummage through. He does what he can to rid them of dust, though he looks a rather embarrassing disgrace for it when he comes back to the main room, covered in leaves and petals. His company has moved from the pulpit they had been in before to the main room of the building, sat against the wall, ‘neath the intact stained glass, what little of it there is left. He pauses as he descends the stairs to look at him, lips parting in silent curiosity. Such a strange creature, this Alice. Different from the outsiders he had met before him. Perhaps, in ways very personal to his own heart, Travis is special even against the shadow of Alice Liddell herself, which he walks. She had left her mark on Wonderland itself, a land once bereft of life and light. He had left his mark on something, someone, far more intimate.

His countenance is drastically different from when they had first entered this place, as well as in contrast to what had happened after. He almost seems serene, at peace in a way, and for that, the deity is thankful as he remembers his approach. He stops to unfold the curtains, laying them at the hume’s legs so that he may take them for warmth should he wish to do so. Afterwards, he takes a seat next to him, glancing at him in time to catch the movements of his hands. In response to his question, his eyes flash purple, a subtle lift to his lips culminating in a surprisingly bashful smile. As he looks away, so too does Aleister, lips pressed together as he ignores the unfamiliar heat that creeps up his neck. Shamefully, he misses his cloak, then. Were it he could cover the flush of his face.

It crosses his mind however briefly, to ask if he had wished they hadn’t. In the end, he doesn’t ask, however : in part because he does not see the blasphemy of the act itself, and equally in part because he believes, however quiet, that the human who now sits besides him is happy. What he wonders, instead, is whether that happiness frightens him as much as it does himself. Where do they go from here? The dragon that sits in the room, mocking them at all turns. He had told him he would fight to defy fate in the name of their hearts, but he supposes in the end, that does not make it less terrifying. To defy gods was one thing. To defy the very stars the god you have fallen in love with created is another entirely.

Movement catches his attention and once more, it is wholly imparted upon him. As he begins to speak with signing, Aleister reaches up to finish fixing the blouse for him, one by one picking the ruffles that had gotten shoved under his collar. He does not comment nor interrupt him as he fumbles. In spite of his own poor communication skills, he understands the concept of being tongue-tied, at a loss for words. He glances at his expression, however, as he moves from the wall to instead lean against his arm. At this, he stops his fingers ‘pon the man’s throat, and gently writes against his skin. ☛ It is okay. ☚ Perhaps too simple a comfort, but he seeks only to help him untangle his thoughts. He will wait for him to get his words out. He leans forward to press his lips sanguinely to the top of his head.

Wait he does. When he finally continues, the Jabberwock’s eyes narrow in thought, a hum emitting from the back of his throat as he thinks on his words. ☛ I am beginning to believe that you daydream of such proposals, Travis. ☚ He stares at him unblinking, eyes shifting rather smoothly to the familiar shade of pink he had grown accustomed to. Even still, though his head is tilted in lack of understanding, a silent inquiry, he does not elaborate further. Whatever thought runs through his head then, rather than voicing his confusions, he tucks them away. Perhaps it is indication he had taken what he’d said to heart, though there is no way of knowing in that moment. Unwilling to impart his misunderstanding to him whilst he speaks to him so seriously, he lets it go, changing position so that he can nudge Travis forward a tad, just enough that his arm is able to slip behind him, hand resting comfortably on his waist. He holds him like that, letting him speak now as his eyes fade back to green, then silver.

What he had heard of Travis’ so-called God, he oft did not truly understand. No matter the attempts made to explain, he has begun to accept that perhaps it is a point of contention upon which he will never be able to truly grasp. He lists off to him these things, these sins, and he can do naught but redirect his gaze upwards, head leaning back against the wall now as he watches petals fall from blossoming flowers ‘pon the ceiling. No idolizing God, he says, and Aleister’s stomach churns in discomfort at the thought of the cult who bore his name an idol under which they committed unspeakable atrocities. No shellfish, no piercings, no tattoos, no cutting hair, no divorce. Incorrigible, he thinks, to trap mortals under such lack of freedom for things so small. He does not see the irony in it, the way his expression twists into something frustrated, questions immediately rising to the tip of his tongue

Why, he wants to ask, tongue now clicking in agitation as he ponders the reasons one could have for limiting mortal love, freedom. That which these humes so desperately held onto, longed for, fought for, died for : what is the purpose of harming them in such a mundane and cruel way? For what purpose? His morals cross, trying to fight ignorance with logic. He had caused his creations pain, that is true. The sacrifice of Alice, his reliance upon nightmares … there are parts of him, parts of the world he had created, that will still steeped within the darkness he had been borne into. But it was never a conscious choice. It was a necessity, a tragedy, and in some cases … a reality he simply could not control, for that is the creature that he is and had always been. But never had he overstepped his boundaries in controlling Wonderland’s freedom, nor had he ignored their cries.

☛ There is no purpose in causing one’s creations baseless suffering. ☚ When he finally responds, his eyes narrow, the depths of which now stain azure, deep blue. He can’t fathom it, to call these things a sin. Therein lay their differences, he supposes. He would never see the world in the way that outsiders did. Wonderland is not their horrid, cruel world. ☛ There is no reality in which one should commit atrocities on the behalf of another’s name. Calling it a life led in God’s name does not make the atrocity of harming others fade away. It exonerates those people who commit them from responsibility of their hatred, places blame on entities far beyond them as if it is not by their own hands the world has become a darker place. There is no reality where another, mortal or no, should fear their creator enough that it leads them to hate, or where one should fear their own safety from those who claim to be holy. Bandersnatches in the hoods of sheep. ☚

Maybe the truth is that he’s disgusted. His eyes burn, and he blinks before anything can come of it. His chest aches as his mind returns once more to the Cult of the Jabberwock. All in his name, they feast ‘pon the flesh of their fellow Wonderlandians, seek to bring about an apocalypse to this world to return it to its former glory. Former glory, he could have spit. Eternal darkness. Emptiness. Nothing. All the light, the love, the beauty of this world gone because they could not accept that he had not been good enough to bless this world with life before Alice Liddell. A blight upon this world, upon his name. That Wonderlandians fear him, he does not begrudge. Were he tormented by his own nightmares, had he never known such pain inflicted upon his world and its people was not purposeful, he would fear himself, too.

He does not comment on his lack of worthiness. His free hand presses against the floor, claws tapping ‘pon the hard surface. In truth, if the things he had heard of his world were true, perhaps it would be for the best he had not been worthy, there. He does not know if he would love him, if he were.

☛ You are worthy of me. ☚ Is what he settles upon, once his heart finds it within him to do so. It is not a lie, nor is it intended to belittle. It is a fact, simple and stated. He releases a long, exhaustive sigh. After some deliberation, he untangles them, gently ensuring that Travis is not disturbed as he moves away from his side. It only takes a moment for him to readjust, so that he is knelt down in front of him ‘pon one knee. He holds one hand out, waiting for him to place his palm atop his own, which he does after a beat passes between them. His claws curl around his hand and, tenderly, he holds it, holds his gaze, so that he may look at him. Curiously, he does not speak until the hume asks further of him.

☛ By the rules of fate, I cannot say. We are star-crossed, you and I. We never should have been together in this way, and yet we are. Whether that is a shift in fate’s design or a shift in myself, I cannot say. Regardless, the stars were once mine to write when I created this world. They are mine to rewrite, as I see fit. I believe this only because you have made me believe it. If Alice can give a creature of nightmare dreams, then who is to say a deity cannot change the fate he crafted? ☚ He would have never believed this, had it not been for the way the mark ‘pon his chest glowed when Travis was near him. Within its setting, petals had begun to bloom out of the surface, lining the edges of what had once been a dull, listless gem. He brings Travis’ hand close to his heart, using both his own to squeeze it, holding tightly for a moment before he lowers his head. He rests his hand against the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and letting silence surround them.

Then, he lifts his head, fixing him with a tender, desperate stare. His expression crumbles, eyes filling with tears as he claws his way through his own emotional turmoil. He only briefly stays quiet so that he may reach forward to cup Travis’ chin, forcing him to tear his attention from the windows and instead look at him. ☛ Love is not a sin, Angel. ☚ This, at the very least, he feels with the entirety of his belonging. Always, had he known this : he had never had to feel love to understand how dearly mortals beheld it. ☛ We are not a sin. Loving you is not a sin. Loving me is not wrong. It does not matter whether we are men, women, neither, humans, gods, mortals, immortals, an outsider, a Wonderlandian, star-crossed, fated, it does not matter. Love is not a sin. ☚

He doesn’t know if his words will mean more to him than the words of those left behind in another world, or if they will mean anything at all. But he tries, desperately, tugging him forward so that they are closer to one-another. He lets out a gush of air likely in place of a sob, blinking his eyes shut as the tears sting enough that they are forced down ‘pon his cheeks. ☛ I am so sorry that you have ever been led to believe that you were not perfect exactly how you were created. You are beautiful and correct and exactly as you are meant to be. The you who sits here now, undeniably hurt and human, should never have been made to feel as if you were lesser simply for who you are. ☚

He speaks to him now as if he were one of his own, though he doesn’t realize it. It’s not that he seeks to take on this role, to fulfil the image of a God, but it is through his soul as a creator that his heart breaks for him. Billions of years he has walked this world, and never has he ever wished for his creations, from the smallest of flowers to the most illustrious of Wonderlandians, to ever feel as if they were lesser because of who had made them, or even further, who they had become after.

He releases his hand. Desperately do his own palms wipe at his cheeks, attempting to rid them of their tears, but to little avail. If he notices that Travis had begun to cry as well, he does not indicate so. Instead, he places his hands on the ground in front of them and uses that as a means to lean himself forward, pressing a chaste and kind kiss to the man’s lips. He does linger there, enough that it fills his heart with a painful ache to pull away after those moments pass. He meets his gaze, their faces still close enough that he could easily close that distance once more. At his question, surprise breaks his composure, eyes widening as he regards him. His heart thrums hard against his chest, his hands beginning to tremble against the ground beneath him. His brows furrow, an expression of pure agony overwriting all else as he leans forward. Silently, without voice, he uses his lips to mouth his response against Travis’ shoulder.

I feel. For you, I feel everything.

#galaxiasus #YO THIS WAS A LOT HJEBNRGJHEBNRG #HOW DO U FEEL TRAVIS #HOW'S UR RELIGIOUS TRAUMA TAKING THIS ONE #IS THIS WHAT U EXPECTED FROM KAMI-SAMA JHEBRGNJHBN #i'm #stares at my hands #ʚ c. jabberwock ɞ ⁄ stroke of luck or gift from god‚ by the hands of fate or devil’s claws.#ʚ o. in character ɞ ⁄ you’ll lose your mind wandering for hours‚ may even decide to start talking to flowers.#◟ ❥ travis + aleister : i can't help but want oceans to part‚ because i'm overcome in this war of hearts. › galaxiasus.#religion tw —#cannibalism mention tw —

3 notes · View notes

baldursgoons · 28 days

Note

bluebell & pansy (starshine); rhododendron, salvia & chamomile (circe); anemone, gladiolus, lavender & lotus (dahlya!!!!)

@bhaalhag

starshine.

bluebell: does your muse learn from their past , or are they prone to repeating the same mistakes ? i think his entire story comes from learning new things, the outside, what is beyond the temple, how his abilities far surpass what he thought he was capable of. and it all depends on the storyline he is in, but once he saves baldur's gate he does not go back into hiding, he might lead a calmer life but he reaches for community, for service, knowing after his adventure that his knowledge and abilities are better used when put in need of others, that knowledge can be more and it doesn't need to stay in his head. however if his storyline led him to trust the wrong person, or worse got heartbroken then he won't learn from it. if any of his companions ascend or have their bad ending, he won't give up on them and in a way could repeat that same mistake...it's pretty interesting stuff i think. pansy: does your muse often reflect on their own actions ? do they ever think a lot about the past , and what they could have done differently ? definitely, i feel like he is an overthinker, when something goes wrong it all goes back into what did HE do wrong, what could he have done differently, and it's not so much in his past but in the like grand plot of the game. like maybe trusting the dream guardian a little too much, accidentally letting something bad slip past him. he beats himself up a little too much about it, not to mention that although his personal relationship with selune is quite positive and like good, i think the way he was raised makes it that when he feels like he has failed selune in a way it's a whole spiral and i need him to grow out of that...just a bit. find a nice middle spot.

circe.

rhododendron: is your muse receptive to warnings & advice given by others ? rarely lmao. i think to advice circe, to warn her you have to build yourself up to be someone who is competent in her eyes and who feels isn't shadowed by something other than their like own personal moral. trying to get her to do something because it would favor a god, or appease someone with authority will fall on deaf ears. but if she considers you wise, perhaps already experienced with something similar she might take it into consideration. i think this is how she ends up in a leader position, especially at first. salvia: is your muse possessive over people or things that matter a lot to them ? how do they express that possessiveness , or lack thereof ? extremely! she has no one, no one but herself and the friend in her staff. she rarely allows herself to have something to protect, therefore when she feels you are an ally to her, or heaven forbid she has feelings for you...it turns to a whole thing. she tends to be possessive in being near said people, standing up for them whenever someone is rude, starting up fights for them, searching for others to fear being disrespectful like most people act around circe. she is also very jealous, and has a hard time communicating the fact. this dude will burn down a village to express her affection no hesitation. it's a bit overwhelming but also it's not an easy feat to accomplish. chamomile: what is your muse likely to take away from a painful experience ? are they one to be haunted by adversity , or to use what they’ve gone through to become stronger ? it literally becomes fuel to the fire, her emotions guide her powers, and she has been mistreated for so long that it was that mistreatment that sent her over the edge to just SNAP and finally do all she had to do to gain her full powers, like they are not haunted, and maybe like she is very much broken but she is aloof to the fact, she is just vicious and if she's hurt she will just unleash and use her pain to guide her magic...it's kinda why she defaults to fire and the hells as her like main type of attack she tends to use.

dahlya.

anemone: how does your muse view the world ; as a cruel & unforgiving place , a land full of wonders , or something in - between ? where does that world view come from ( what experiences , life lessons , etc . ) ? so the world is her playground, at first, it comes from how it was all taken from her since she was young, but her time in the temple of bhaal, her need for a lavish lifestyle and her general disdain for others it's just the perfect combination to make it so that dahlya perceives it's all as a game she can play and she will win, it comes with her calculative nature but at the same it's the way she was pinned against orin, even before the temple of bhaal it was a competition, to have the attention she wanted, the things she wanted, like this girl lived with 6 other sisters...i think that definitely changes a bit post the plot of the game, she could have done it all to "win the game" but i think she is tired, she does not want to keep doing the little show for bhaal, she does not want to sacrifice her life and joy for anything other than keeping the world safe...so she can experience it properly, i think she is aware how the world can be unforgiving, she was the one dedicated to make it so, she defaults to just wanting to exist. still indulge, but now in the things that feel like they actually matter and not because someone has put the pieces down for them. gladiolus: describe a moment from your muse’s life that they will never forget . oh this is a hard one, because i think that she never truly forgets the moments spent with her adoptive family she does forget about them when orin makes scramble egg with her brain, so i think that the one moment has to be the first night she sleeps and the urge isn't there anymore. it's such a calming sensation, it does give her some sort of anxiety for a bit, but she stays up. probably climbs up the roof of the elf song and just stays there. looks up at the starts and she feels something stir. (another moment, will definitely be orin's death. there's this huge massive baggage that she did not notice she was carrying until the fight with her, there was this need for revenge and anger towards orin that did not leave her mind until the two of them were fighting.) lavender: how easy is it to gain your muse’s trust ? once their trust is broken , how might one go about mending it ? actual legit trust? a while. one that has actually succeed in doing so was gortash, and only because feelings were muddy and even then there was the expectation of something going wrong between them. i think it comes from the fact that dahlya is like the worst and so she expects everyone to be the worst, like she works so hard to have others trust that her standards are outrageous. so i think it's extremely hard to gain her genuine trust, and once broken i think it's very very difficult to get it back. i think getting on your knees and begging i lotus: has your muse ever felt as though they’ve been reborn ? have they ever desired the feeling of a fresh start , or a better understanding of themself and/or the world around them ? when she regains her memories and those memories feel like it's not her. like i do not know if that makes sense but when she unlocks her past, and she knows what she has done, what she was like, any desire to utilize her urges, any desire to return to bhaal the way she had been feeling, they die. it literally disconnects her, suddenly she figures out what she has to do, what she feels correct, and she starts harbouring the desire to start it all a new when she survives this whole adventure. and the feeling of being reborn does not come until she has disposed of the elder brain, even though she does literally die the feeling of being reborn doesn't kick in until they are through with the business they got going on. it also takes a bit for her brain to settle down after the urge is gone and what not, that's also like a big aspect of what keeps her in the same mindset during the entire adventure she embarks in.

#circe / hc.#starshine / hc.#dahlya / hc.#ask reply.#ooc.#wow this got long !#thank you for this i love my little guys...

0 notes

libidomechanica · 8 months

Text

Sweet pendulous and never the grasshoppers she

Singing but he dormitory. And three slabbed many a man a wonder stone;—felt by element cooling done up from my toiled too weltrings becauseth the moon of gray be, let his time. So clear the ground she stream, but lasting things

of wind, one is noon souls, and majestical fame, is to frightly, my wrongs. I had loveliest fate, not tell my shone his pursue, let affection untamed took their hand; for the pony, Betty she space of idle set, the future

submissing a thirty-one tired wings, that came, and is to keep, and braine. Makes you, now that nods they music of the reins would hark! There the fern of a serpent in their tongue untold, be surgery, a cry wit, a lost in paint a closed.

These did they hae been of Arcadiant bow. Half of wool and the fear the wayle my blood, see its gleams, call’d simple girl, the dead? You art more, john Baptist’s half yielded, the other’s Language who waste, We did teach less fell appear that I made

such betwixt the grateful, hast sworn, as he was a bright from beneath. It’s noon-day, my Johnny sooner prepare thy pangs are not the echo up in this dresses the others but once them runs overrules the could sweep one extremity

can’t disarmèd of your leave temples forth, when your pain, when altar. Downhill seeking your flowers if think a grow. She, with so long the rope that you, thou do like diameter that kept a saddle; but sometimes reade, Beloved solemnly.

The Maple week I have your stamp of ancied you till hovering here, God know! Farewell, far overflower too. When Venus in to heed that strong way. Voice of us preserve him, who’s yon, that my feet, an immoral, while there rang, Let you

scarcely love seeing back and weave mystic leaps of his neither hand. With the doctor her in the said half afraid, he same and fast, and to come of god enamour of song she lily’s bass turns were and sallow hunt thou say. New York, lying

of father the free weep. Where; and between the cooling skies above wither died and all they are true! Mark, how smoothly fumes learning, You surprised athwart than for the blue eye but themselves ether was shook the very sort time all course

orient see the mild and find yet, and we having tongued with the powers whatever canst there your sickness. Or bene the orcharm, and the wing! Sweet pendulous and never the grasshoppers she and the orator grant piled Neptune’s

rich mads to that I asham’d to a sharpe arrowe, ne can scared in the was sooner heard my fault in hire like accidental sung without of my loved fantasm, come of her Fortune felt too wide in this mines! The owls have a million’s

in this flighter. Said their hair; and pursuing! And most expendency offer where weary feet? Seems built house! To-morrow, a year. I, in the sod, albeit so pure fancy- sick. To see thankful, and brough you could proud lap plucking hair

bettering rock again. While a spire text better me? Why wild, out-facing. Best calculating, and appeased by the diamond vapoury tent of water and they every soul, a little way intreat that beaty and out of color,

one is whispers tale. Love kindling the drooping trade with pity as what I do not by riversary, shewes loue and they had speak when I leaned did knocking damsel’s happy, happy pensive Sara! We shot.— Addressing nectar from

out and now they shout all notes, which made of your sons her the discovered gaze upon her be who fore-knowledge—see, the in the both sat sick mard buckram, like Mahler wrist is burn she priuie to the sun, thou are stretched her full be tann’d the shapes

of Earn, and become a poll oft; and all were will down cloud come, can’t I think I may me wheel by women and rise upon the fires. Whatsoever weale; and make my bracement, full in his did yeeld; more he watch the shepheard, and past.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #180 texts #ballad

0 notes

godkilller · 9 months

Note

► ❝ Tell me I'm yours ---- with your words, your hands, your body... show me how much I belong to you, with you. And then, if you're bold enough ---- make it official. Turn me, Gin. I want to be with you until the world ends. ❞ // ( hunter!rangiku because i'm so weak for this verse hfsdkjh )

Send my character a ► and a command. They must obey.

SHE HAD HIM UP UNTIL THAT VERY LAST PART, an unwillingness from his personal experiences to dish out an eternal fate upon her at a mere request. No, he'd not turn her -- Rangiku deserved to live a normal life, no matter how selfishly he desired to upend it for the ability to keep her until the world ends, as she so poetically said. This was a clash between his desire to have her at his side forevermore and his mournful hope that she would not ever disregard her humanity in favor of staying with the likes of him. DID SHE WANT TO DEGRADE HERSELF LIKE THAT SIMPLY FOR IMMORTALITY? She'd become a low-tier vampire, destined to not think for themselves -- destined to obey the command of those higher than her. Did she truly want that? Gin thought not. Perhaps if she found immortality via other means, less soul-losing means, then he'd humor the concept endlessly. He'd search for such a remedy for her human condition without fail, if so. Until then, however...

❝ I'll give ya anythin' you want, anythin' ya ask... 'cept for that. ❞ A rejection of the last portion of her command came easily for him, he did not fester with the possibilities -- he knew what he desired, and turning her was not one of them. Not now, at least. And he was able to refuse such an order only because she worded the request in a manner that allowed him to refuse. She can call him weak or cowardly, implying he wasn't 'bold enough' by all means... Gin could weather that.

In the meantime, he intended to fully appease the other aspects of her request in full. Thoroughly. A crushing kiss began it, as it so often did -- he couldn't help but let out a low rumbling growl and snarling show of teeth from the mere thought of ever turning this supple, warm-blooded being into a hollow shell of what she was. No, never, he'd savor her in this physicality, this fragile state of making sure he never shoved her too roughly -- like a minigame to not bruise the human woman too terribly in the heat of their passions.

No restraint could keep the hunter from being sent into a stumble that saw her knees buckling against the edge of the bed behind her, her back subsequently pressed flush down against the mattress in a tumbling fall, hungry mouths surging together whilst he wedged his knee between her thighs to urge them apart while also propping himself atop her, against her, a subtle rub of friction offered in the midst of their bodies becoming intertwined. Splayed fingers sought to slip against the woman's waist, creeping underneath the hem of her shirt and slowly roaming upwards, hiking the garment until he veered to the side of revealed skin, slotting his hand against the raised scarring that matched his palmprint near perfectly in shape. He kissed her with an angry sort of heat, a seething possessiveness, animalistic in how he fought against the urge to rip the clothing straight from her skin -- knowing she'd much prefer he didn't ruin her outfit over such feral impatience.

But gods, she was delicious enough that he almost tore the fabric regardless, willing to face her angry pout if it meant getting to that beautiful body just moments quicker. If clawed fingers accidentally stretched the garment when guiding it hurriedly over her head, then no they didn't. Sharpened nails grazed over revealed skin, promising reddened marks to trail in their wake... perhaps a newly refreshed bruise upon her neck that matched the drawn-out fangs that he now showed proudly against her lips was in order. He wanted to feel her, touch her, claim her -- wasn't that what she wanted, too?

Forgive him, he was feeling rather inspired.

#[ roleplay ] predator; murder on his mind & hymns on his tongue #[ au: vampire ] hellspawn; you either bare your fangs or your throat #[ dynamic: gin and rangiku ] grow from the sorrow in me; the winter in us #oops idk if i remembered to tag the other post bUT YEAH --

1 note · View note

amimimi · 3 years

Text

it’s so brand new, babe; kyan reki

request: “I was wondering if you could do like a one shot/drabble of reki and his s/o first? like it’s all soft and fluffy and awkward.”

pairings: reki x fem!reader

warnings: 18 +, smut, swearing, unprotected sex, reader and reki are first years in college!

word count: 5.0k +

notes: THIS WAS SO MFIN LONG. the title is from “our first time” by bruno mfin mars. i literally saw this ask and had to lie down for like an hour because my brain was going “-@$;);/&9”. i apologize in advance for any spelling/grammatical errors!

“oh my god—reki, hold still!” you chide for the fifth time as reki flinches as though you’ve punched him.

“you’re literally pulling hair off my face? how can i hold still?” reki cries indignantly, rubbing his left eyebrow and holding up your lavender hand mirror to examine the damage. “is this gonna bruise?”

“i’m only plucking your eyebrow hair...how would that bruise?”

you and reki were having your usual friday movie nights. usually, you’d have it at reki’s place considering his sisters demanded to join you both to watch disney movies. but you both had switched up for tonight. your parents were on vacation for the weekend so you two had the place to yourselves for the next day and a half.

you were straddling reki’s lap while he relaxed against a cushion chair. every now and then you would raise yourself up on your knees to make sure you were plucking at the right angle.

you watched as reki frowned at his reflection in the hand mirror, gently raising his fingers to his brows.

“why is the skin red then?” reki questioned, bringing the mirror even closer to his face.

“because you keep moving and I keep accidentally pinching you” you reply, trying to loosen reki’s grip on the mirror and put it to the side. “lemme finish up!”

reki hesitates, but places the mirror down beside him. “i’m trusting you, y/n...”

you grin and lean down to kiss reki’s nose. “i know and i appreciate you for that” you say allowing your hand that isn’t holding the tweezers to lift reki’s chin up. his eyes twinkle up at you as you lean in again to lightly kiss him on the lips this time. reki tilts his head back, allowing you more access and you give a pleased hum against his mouth. at one point, you drop the tweezers to the floor and drape your arm over reki’s neck to brace yourself. eagerly, reki sits up straighter to appease you. he’s always likes how easily you both slipped in and out of physical affection—sure it flustered him to know end but he loved it so much.

your kissing is getting sloppier by the second and you both are now openly moaning into each other’s mouths. reki just barely places his hands on your waist before loud, discordant chords blare from the horror movie you had been watching, followed by an equally loud screech. reki jolts with a gasp, almost throwing you off his lap.

“holy fuck!” he wheezes, shutting his eyes bringing his palm up to his forehead. your heart is still hammering in your chest, but you can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of your chest. reki opens his eyes to weakly glare up at you.

“you jumped so hard” you bring the back of your hand up to your mouth to stifle your giggles.

reki slightly thrusts one of his legs up from under you in retaliation, earning a squeak from you as your balance was momentarily thrown off. he chuckles as you lightly slap his chest with a pout.

you turn your torso around to grab the remote on the coffee table and turn the volume down. with the movie now barely audible, you turn back around to reki and set the remote down.

“don’t want my baby getting scared again” you coo teasingly, wrapping your arms around reki’s neck and pursing your lips out at him.

“shut up” reki warns you, but holds no heat to his words. not when he’s grinning up at you so sweetly with his hands gently placed on your waist—as if you were the most precious being in the world to him. he notes that you’re wearing one of his t-shirts, yellow with a gear depicted in the middle. it’s slightly oversized on him, so you’re practically swimming in it, the sleeves stopping right above your elbows.

reki loves you, he knows he does. but every now and then, you’ll say or do something—even as simple as shooting him a look and he’s gripped with an overwhelming sense of fondness that surprises even him. and right now, seeing you in his shirt, straddling his lap, smiling at him like it was the only thing you knew —he feels that same sense of fondness urgently clench in his stomach.

“come here”, reki half begs pushing his head forward, his voice slightly cracking. he wants you to do something about the fondness—the adoration that expands in his chest, threatening to steal his breath. he needs you to kiss him—to do something.

you slowly inch your face forward until your lips ghosts one another. when you both kiss again, it’s a lot more gentle and slow. you pull back, breathing slightly hard, to kiss the right side of his brow bone, then his temple. reki let’s his head tilt back gently, struggling to control his breathing as you litter kisses down to his neck. he runs his hands up and down your waist repeatedly, in an attempt to conceal the way his hands are shaking.

suddenly, he feels you place a soft kiss on the part of his neck just beneath his earlobe and he can’t help the harsh gasp that flies from his mouth. his hips automatically buck up into yours, causing you to give a stunned moan right into reki’s ear.

shakily, you stop kissing reki’s neck as you opt to bury your face into his shoulder, gasping back another moan, very much aware of reki’s semi hard on pressing against the inside of your thigh.

reki isn’t fairing much better.

his eyes are squeezed shut as he bites the back of his hand, breathing harshly through his nose. you both struggle to gather yourselves while reki repeatedly apologizes.

“m’sorry, i didn’t—i didn’t mean to do that, i’m sorry” reki’s very much aware of how small and shaky his voice sounds. he feels you slightly shaking against him, so he wraps his arms around you, one hand rubbing up and down your back. “didn’t mean that, i’m sorry, angel”

dazed, you pull your head up from reki’s shoulder to gaze at him. his cheeks are flushed, as he slightly pants through his mouth. he’s looking at you apologetically, puppy dog eyes and all. you realize then that reki is equally affected by you as you are by him. you can’t take your eyes off of his lips, wet and pink from kissing you. you start to feel feverish, every inch of your skin tingling with desire.

“i—” you pause, fidgeting under his gaze. even in the throes of desire, you still find it in you to be slightly embarrassed about what you want to say next. reki sees your hesitance because he sits up even straighter, furrowing his brow as he rubs his hands along the side of your arms.

“baby, what’s wrong?” reki gently questions and you can’t miss the concern in his voice.

steeling yourself, you place both of your hands on reki’s chest. “reki, i wanna go all the way” you declare, before quickly glancing up at him to meet his wide eyes. “with you, that is—only if you’re comfortable!”

reki is frozen, looking at you like a deer in headlights. he doesn’t know why he’s so stunned. you both have been dating for a while now, and you both had been sexually intimate before so why is his brain malfunctioning. and it’s not like he hasn’t thought of having sex with you, he has—a lot. he just never made a move in fear of pushing you or making you uncomfortable.

reki continues to blink at you and you rush to backtrack.

“it doesn’t have to be tonight—or even this year! it’s whenever you’re ready, baby” your hands travel up to cup reki’s face, who still can’t find it in him form any words. “i just wanted to let you know that i want you—in every way possible.”

“i-i want you too” reki manages, still looking at you like a deer in headlights. he notes that his throat is startling dry before he swallows. “i want you like that too”

“you do?” you ask him and he can’t, for the life of him, figure out why you sound so surprised.

“yeah”, reki croaks, his shock wearing off only to be replaced by embarrassment. his ears are burning and he knows he’s blushing straight down to his chest. “i have for a while...”

“oh” you breathe, your hands still cupping his face. the both of you stare at each other a little more, before you break the silence. “your face feels warm”

“you just asked to have sex with me, what did you expect?” he murmurs, trying to look anywhere but at you. you feel your face slightly heat up at his words, but you giggle and rub your thumbs across his cheeks.

“why are you surprised? have you seen how you look?” you grin at him and reki sighs, covering his face with one hand. “i’m also, you know, very much in love with you, so there’s that”

“why are you bent on embarrassing me?” he groans, while you try to remove his hand from off his face.

“why can’t you take a compliment?” you ask back. reki drops his hand from his face, his eyes narrowed at you. paying no mind, you lean forward and pepper his face with kisses.

“do wanna—go to your room then?” reki’s breath catches in his throat, as you continue to kiss his face. you pull back, staring at him cautiously.

“do you want that? i mean, to have sex?” you question, not breaking eye contact with him. “like, right now?”

“yes” he breathes, even though his hands are shaking as he grips your waist. he let’s his forehead rest against yours, maintaining eye contact with you.

“are you sure?” you whisper, brushing your nose against his. he moves to press his lips against yours.

“i’ve never been this sure in my life” he murmurs against your lips and you shiver in response. cautiously, he wraps his arms around your lower back and hoists you up, standing to his feet. gasping slightly, you wrap your legs around his waist and tighten your grasp on his shoulders.

reki carries you over to the base of the stairwell before giving you a nervous smile and a quick smooch. you grab at the tuft of hair at the base of his neck and watch him concentrate on walking up your staircase whilst carrying you. his eyes fixed downward making sure he doesn’t miss a step and want to coo at how cute he looks right now. but also, you’re mentally swooning at how steady he’s carrying you up the stairs, his arms not faltering even once.

“mmm, so strong” you murmur and kiss his cheek. “very strong, indeed”

reki glances up and shoots you a look of fond exasperation before he nearly trips up a step, one hand grasping for the rail as he falters. you both squeak, as you tighten you’re grasp around his neck and he squeezes his arm around your waist.

“y-you’re distracting me!” reki fusses, taking a moment to regain his balance before letting his hand drop from the railing and placing it around your waist. “i almost dropped you...”

“sorry” you reply, burying your face in his shoulder so he won’t see that your smiling.

reki finishes his ascent the stairwell and walks down the hall to your bedroom. his heart hammers in his chest as he quickly fumbles with the door knob, because wow, this is really happening. pushing his way into your room, reki kisses you softly before gently laying you down on your bed, settling over you before he leans down to kiss you again. you wrap your arms around his neck in an attempt to bring him closer, moaning wantonly into his mouth. reki pulls back and grins, but you only begin kissing up his neck

"a little impatient, huh?" he gently teases, reveling in the fact that in this moment, he slightly has the upper hand. your lips still pressed against reki's neck, you scoff through your nose and rut your hips against his pelvis, eliciting a strangled cry from reki.

reki squeezes his eyes shut, bowing his head beside your neck. "fuck" he pants, trying to breathe through a head rush as you giggle. his cheek is pressed against the side of your neck, taking in how feverish your skin feels.

when he feels less dizzy, he turns his head to the side and softly kisses your neck. "how do you want to do this, baby?" reki whispers between kisses. something about hearing him say that with his breath fanning against your ear makes you want to cry.

you arch your back, so that your chest is flushed against his, your thighs slightly rubbing together for some kind of friction. "i, uh--" you pause, trying to form a coherent sentence with the one braincell that isn't painting mental images of reki's face screwed up in pleasure, or his voice cracking with desire, or his hiccuping moans--

"maybe, use your fingers first" you sigh airily. reki sits up, supporting his weight on both his elbows and looking down at you. his eyes are practically glowing, glittering as they reflect the lamp from your bedside. he's gazing at you so softly with his brows slightly furrowed, you almost sob.

"you gotta show me" reki murmurs, reaching down to take one of your hands in his and interlocking his fingers with yours. he brings the back of your palms up to his lips before giving your hand a quick squeeze. "i wanna do it right"

you and reki have definitely been sexually intimate before--you initiating most of the time. he's maybe fingered you once or twice and he did surprisingly well.

"you do do it right" you tell him, smoothing his bangs back from his forehead and he gulps, shaking his head slightly.

"i want to do it right-right, like--" he hesitates, wondering how explicit he should be before squeezing your hand again. "i want to do it right so i don't hurt you later..."

"oh" your prop yourself up on your elbows, resting your back higher up against your pillows before smiling up at reki. "alright, come here"

reki crawls up beside you, until your faces are both leveled. you both peer at each other through heavy lidded eyes.

"hi" you whisper, your face almost hurting with how hard you're smiling.

"hey" reki breathes, grinning oh so prettily back at you. he pushes himself up on one elbow, gently placing his other hand on your inner thigh. his hand on your thigh trembles and you place your hand over his in an attempt to soothe his nerves. you nuzzle your face closer to his and kiss him, pulling back to press your nose against his.

"we don't have to do this, sweetheart" you tell him, gazing at him intently to let him know that you mean what you're saying. "i want you to be comfortable"

reki kisses your forehead, before shifting back to press his nose against yours. "i'm feel the most comfortable when i'm with you, y/n" he says sincerely, and you slightly melt forward into his face. "and i wanna do this, i just—i don't wanna disappoint you"

"you won't, baby" you smile and reki feels his heart squeeze at you blinking up at him so cutely. "we're just, figuring it out. we got all weekend"

reki takes a shaky breath before smiling down at you, feeling reassured. "besides, i'll literally be turned on by whatever you do. i get wet watching you do a railslide—no joke" you grin sweetly up at reki, despite the explicit nature of your words. reki opens his mouth like he wants to respond, but he just shuts his mouth and shakes his head at you. "don't shake your head at me, i see you blushing!"

reki, who is in fact blushing, shakes his head again and giggles. "i don't know what i'm gonna do with you..." he pinches the inside of your thigh, causing you to squeal. you squeeze your hand over his and direct his hand higher up your thigh.

“i can think of one or two things” you murmur, guiding his hand over your clothed sex. reki’s eyes widened at how soaked the cotton fabric of your panties are. he’s whimpering slightly when you urge his fingers to push your panties to the side. you arch your back, inhaling shakily, as reki’s fingers brush against your folds, collecting your essence along his fingertips.

“fuck—” reki moans, his head spinning from how good you feel against his fingers. he can’t help when his mind replicates the sensation of how warm and wet you feel around his cock. “fuck”

hearing reki like that only spurred you even further, your pussy clenching around nothing. “wait, wait—” you gasp, your hand dropping from reki’s. reki pulls his hand back like he’s been burned, peering up at you anxiously.

before he could ask if you were okay, you pull the shirt your wearing (his shirt, reki notes) up to your stomach before harshly tugging down your panties down your legs. reki watches, slightly amused at how hurried and frazzled you seem, as you tug your panties off and toss them towards the far end of your bed.

“you okay?” he asks, slightly smiling as you lay back down, wiggling around to get comfortable beside him. you nod, breathing a little fast, gazing up at him.

“i just wanted to feel you a bit better” you sigh, leaning up to give him a sloppy kiss.

“can i take my shirt off?” he asks, sounding a little shy.

“please” you groan, tugging at the hem of his shirt with one hand. he giggles and you can’t help but laugh with him, your desire mixing with adoration at the sound of his giggle. you both tug his t-shirt off, leaving him in just his basketball shorts. smiling, reki repositions himself alongside you, placing his hand on your thigh.

you guide his hand back over your wetness before reki stills. “wait” he says, gripping your hand. you look up at him, heart dropping when you see how solemn he looks. “your plushies”

you blink up at reki, wondering if you heard him correctly. “my what?”

“your plushies.” he repeats, with a lot more emphasis, still looking very serious.

“w-what about them?” you asked, properly confused and frantic from the loss of reki’s touch.

“they can’t watch us!” reki finishes urgently, glancing up at the row of sanrio and dolphin plushies by your head. reki looks back down at you to find that you’re staring up at him, unimpressed, and he presses his lips shut before bursting into giggles. you flinch when you feel drops of reki’s spit hit your face.

“you spit on my face!” you moan, tugging your cinnamoroll plushie from beside your pillow and throwing it to the carpeted ground.

“oh my god, y/n—don’t throw them!” he gasps between laughs. “lemme put them at the end of the bed...faced away, of course!”

reki sits up and scoops the remainder of your plushies, aligning them at the end of your bed. you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching him with a frown. he’s so annoying—wait, fuck, when did his back get so toned?

“i can’t tell if you’re doing this to me on purpose or if you actually are concerned about the welfare of my plushies” you say, transfixed by how toned his back is. there are scars littered from previous beefs and a little birthmark under his left shoulder.

he turns back to you, shooting you lofty grin before crawling back over to you. “a little bit of both” he replies, positioning himself alongside you as he supports himself up on one elbow. he tilts his head to the side, still giving a shit eating grin.

“my plushies have seen me masturbate before, they’ll live” you roll your eyes, laying your head back on your pillow. reki’s mouth drops, looking sincerely shocked and you almost want to laugh.

“that is...so wrong” reki whispers, looking genuinely horrified.

“yeah, i know, i know” you rush, looking up at him pleadingly. “can you please fuck me, now?”

reki hears the urgency in your voice and places his hand back along your inner thigh. “okay, baby, okay” he murmurs as you catch his lips in a desperate kiss. you slightly hitch your shirt up, revealing your naked pussy and reki practically vibrates at the sight of it. it’s glistening with your essence, swollen and so fucking pretty. reki has never really seen you nude like that, the few times that he has fingered you he was too shy to fully look. but now, he gets to take your pussy in, in all it’s glory and fuck, does it go straight to his dick.

“do you still want me to guide you, baby? i don’t mind” you ask, peering up at him through your eye lashes. he looks back over to you and kisses you on your open mouth. he pulls back, a string of saliva connected to both your lips and you clench around nothing at the sight of it, your hips rutting up.

maybe it was seeing your pussy, completely naked and glistening, but reki felt himself getting slightly nervous again. “k-kinda? i like feeling your hand on mine” he whispers sheepishly. you grin up at him, snaking your arm closest to him around his neck.

“awww, baby. you like me holding your hand?” you coo up at him and he can’t help but grin, cheeks flushed despite himself.

“should i get up and move your plushies to the closet?” he threatens teasingly and you whimper, placing the hand that isn’t hooked around his neck, over his hand on your inner thigh. you guide his hand back up to your pussy and reki shudders when his fingers reconnect with your wetness.

you grip the back of his hand, while he gently slides his fingers up and down your folds. reki leans down to kiss you all alongside your jaw as you pant.

“you can—put a finger in now, reki” your breath catching on a moan, eyes squeezed shut.

“okay” he whispers, against your jaw. his fingers brush against the opening for a bit before he gently pushes his index finger in. you give a shaky sigh while reki groans as you clench around his finger. he rubs his finger upwards against the spongey part of your walls, letting his thumb brush against your clit—eliciting a low moan from you.

you let your hand travel from reki’s wrist up to his forearm and grip tightly. you’re half aware that you’re grinding against reki’s hand in an attempt to increase the friction. reki brings his head down, kissing the part of your collarbone that peeks out from his oversized shirt you’re wearing.

“another finger, reki, please” you moan as reki sucks a bruise on the right side of your collarbone. he obliges readily, sliding his middle finger inside your pussy, sighing dreamily at how easily you take it in. you tilt your head back, reeling at the feel of reki’s calloused fingers—so much thicker than yours, as he curls them and begins slowly pumping them in and out.

“is that okay?” he murmurs with his lips pressed against your collarbone. your chest is properly heaving now, the hand that isn’t hooked around reki’s neck grasping onto his bicep.

“yes, you’re doing so well, i love you so much” you whimper, feeling reki groan against your chest. he peels his head off of your collarbone to glance at your face to already see you staring up at him, eyes half-lidded and glossed over as you writhe under him. “ ‘want you, reki, i want you so bad”

at your words, reki whimpers as his body is racked with desire. “i know, baby, i want you too” he replies shakily, rutting against your thigh. his cock is straining painfully against the front of his briefs. “shit, you’re gonna wreck me, sweetheart”

“oh~” you moan so sweetly and reki leans down to press his mouth to yours, as if to swallow your moans. you’re tingling all over, brain turning to mush as all you can feel is the mounting pleasure between your legs. you can hear reki breathing harshly, moans clipping his breath now and again. you hear the lewd sound of reki quickly pumping his fingers in and out of your wetness. the feeling of his chest heaving against yours, and his cock, swollen and hard, against your thigh.

your lower stomach tightens harshly as you clench hard around reki’s fingers. “reki, i’m gonna cum” you warn, a frantic edge to your voice. you’re panting now, chest heaving wildly as you grind in time with reki’s hand. mind reeling, you tighten your grip around reki’s neck, trying to brace yourself as your oncoming orgasm threatens to knock the breath right out of you.

“it’s okay, baby, i got you” reki voice cracks, sliding his free hand under your back and pulling you closer to him. he presses a kiss against your forehead, before resting his forehead on top of yours. “i’m here, angel, go ahead”

you whine at his words, only managing to cry out reki’s name before giving a full bodied shudder as your orgasm crashes into you like a 18 wheeler truck. reki kisses you through it, moaning as he feels you gush around his fingers. you sob against his mouth, your body trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

reki pulls back to take you in. your hair is matted with sweat against your forehead, eyes glossy with lust, mouth slightly gaped open as you pant through the last of your orgasm.

“you’re the most beautiful person in the whole world” he smiles down at you, kissing your eyelid and slightly giggling when he feels your eyelash flutter against his lips. “i’m so fucking lucky, i can’t believe i get to be your boyfriend”

“don’t say that...” you gasp, hips twitching as reki slightly curls and uncurls his fingers inside of you. “don’t say that because i’ll literally have your baby—don’t”

reki’s giggles, nose scrunched up and his eyes glittering. you reach up and gently pinch his nose, earning another round of laughter. he gently slides his fingers out of you, marveling at the string of cum that connects from his fingers to your heat. his cock throbs at the sight, and he’s suddenly reminded of his painful erection.

reki realizes you must’ve noticed too, because you hook your fingers under the band of his basketball shorts. “can i take your pants off, baby?” you murmur, sitting up against your pillows. reki audibly gulps, before nodding, giving you permission.

you tug his basketball shorts down his hips, to reveal the outline of reki’s cock, strained against the fabric of his briefs. the front of his briefs are darkened with pre-cum. you press your palm against reki’s clothed sex and an airy moan escapes from reki’s lips.

you palm him though his underwear for a couple of seconds before you look back up to him. “can i take your underwear off?” you ask gently, feeling as reki begins to shake against you again—nerves or arousal, you weren’t sure.

“please” he begs weakly and you oblige, hooking your fingers under his waistband and shimmying his underwear down his hip. his cock springs up against his toned stomach and you feel yourself getting wet again at the sight of it. the head is darkened, red and glistening with pre-cum. he’s a little more on the longer side, average girth and prominent veins.

you gently wrap your hand around reki’s cock and reki all but chokes, shifting himself over you. he barely manages to support his own weight in his elbows, harshly trembling. “you okay?” you ask, slowly pumping your hand up and down his shaft. your eyes flash up to watch reki’s face. his eyes are closed and his mouth hangs open as he winces in pleasure.

reki nods, giving a choked “yeah” before bowing his head as you continue to pump at his dick.

“it’s so cute” you coo, squeezing tighter around reki’s shaft. reki bucks into your hand, a whine forming from his chest.

“please don’t tease me right now, y/n” he begs, sounding near tears. he’s sweating with how worked up he’s getting.

“i’m not, baby” you murmur, increasing the speed at which you pump reki’s dick. a shaky moan warbles from his lips and he presses his forehead against your collarbone. “i mean it, you’re perfect—every inch of you”

reki continues to make the most prettiest sounds as he hovers over you. the anticipation of having sex with you incites a round of full bodied shudders and he slightly sinks his teeth into your collarbone.

“i-i don’t think i’ll last long, angel” he whines, sounding thoroughly apologetic as he ruts against your palm.

you turn you head to kiss reki’s temple. “s’okay, reki” you tell him honestly, loosening your grip around reki’s member.

reki sits up on his knees to fully remove his shorts and underwear. he shimmies them off hurriedly and places them on the edge of the bed. “how do wanna do this?” he asks shyly. “i read it’s easier for you if we do it with me on top”

you giggle, sinking further down into your pillows. “my studious boyfriend” you sigh, reaching your arms out for him. reki shoots you an unimpressed look, but still crawls into your arms like a cat caught in the rain.

“s-shut up!” he says, but it doesn’t sound too convincing. especially when you grab his member and run it along your folds to collect some of your wetness. reki’s head spins at the feel of you, letting out a low groan and bracing himself on his elbows yet again.

“you ready?” you ask beneath him, directing his dick just over your entrance. reki starts shaking again, but he manages a frantic nod.

“yes, yes please” he squeaks. you take a deep breath and insert the head of reki’s cock into your heat, eliciting groans from the both of you. with your guidance reki slowly slides in, shaking above you at how tight you feel while you wrap your arms around reki’s neck and moan.

by the time reki bottoms out, you’re both trembling and whining in each other’s grasp. reki peers down at you to see your eyes squeezed shut, your lips forming a perfect “o”. the way your face scrunches up as he feels your walls, wet and warm and tight, clench around him as you adjust to his girth almost makes him cum right then and there.

at one point, you wiggle your hips to try and accommodate reki’s cock and a jolt travels straight up his spine. feeling his balls tighten, he groans and hangs his head. he’s not gonna cum. he’s not gonna cum. he’s not gonna-

“reki?” you whisper, gently rubbing his shoulders, concerned about how quiet he’s been. the sound of your voice almost makes him cry. “baby, are you okay?”

“give me a second, p-please don’t talk” he wheezes, sounding apologetic as he desperately tries to gather himself. he takes controlled breaths, counting down back from 100.

reki’s around 54, when he finally opens his eyes to see you peering up at him, concern evident in your face. he’s still shaking, but he’s sure he won’t cum right then and there.

“sorry, i was close just then...” he mumbles, face burning even brighter if that was possible. you smile softly up at him and bring him down for a kiss. gently, you thrust your hips upwards and reki chokes, fisting the bed sheets.

“you can move, darling” you tell him, breathing heavily as your pussy continues to flutter around reki’s cock. he feels so good, so good. and every so often, you can feel him twitch inside you and it makes you want to flip him over and ride him into tomorrow.

reki is looking down at you apprehensively as he chews his bottom lip, whines catching in his throat. “i won’t hurt you, right?” he asks weakly, as you rub your hands up and down his back.

“no, just go gently for now” you assure him, your hips slightly bucking up into him. “mm—you feel so good”

reki knows he isn’t gonna last long—he knows that. just from the couple minutes of you adjusting around him and wiggling your hips to accommodate him already has him panting like he’s sprinting laps.

nevertheless, reki slowly pulls his dick out and pushes it back, his eyes watching your face for any signs of discomfort. you melt into the mattress, shutting your eyes as you shakily sigh. reki shakes his hand under your oversized shirt and places it on your waist as he continues to languidly thrust into you.

he leans his head down to kiss you, sloppy and wet. “y/n” he groans at the way you clench around him as his pace slightly quickens. “i-i love you, so much”

you whine, hooking your legs around his waist and tightening your grasp around his neck as he continues to thrust into you. the way his head drags against the spongy part of you pussy, has your toes curling and you rut your hips up to meet his.

you open your eyes to see reki, lips wet and eyes teary, gasping over you, face flushed, and eyebrows furrowed. reki, your boyfriend, your high school sweetheart, your baby. reki, who smile tiredly as he walks you home after his late shift, who is pretty good at karaoke but convinces you otherwise, who kisses you like you’re the most precious being, who makes it his personal mission to make you feel safe. reki, your reki.

“you take such good care of me, reki, you’re such a good boyfriend” you whine out and reki sobs, hips beginning to falter. “i love you, baby”

reki’s lower stomach and thighs tighten as his orgasm rapidly approaches. drool begins to pool in his mouth as he pants harshly, moans catching in his throat. the sound of skin slapping and both of your moans floats in your bedroom.

“i’m gonna cum” he gasps, slightly unnerved by how rapidly he seems to lose control. his vision is beginning to go white around the edges and his arms shake uncontrollably. “y/n”

“s’okay, baby” you murmur, as reki begins thrusting erratically. you kiss his shoulder before settling back against your pillows. “s’okay, reki, go ahead”

“i’m sorry” reki whines as he pull his cock out, pumping it only twice before he cums on your upper thigh. the groan that tumbles out of his mouth sounds so heavenly, that you sigh dreamily as he collapses against you, shuddering in the aftermath of his orgasm.

you wrap your arms around reki as he rests the side of his face against your chest, still panting like he’s ran a marathon. “you okay, baby?” you murmur into his hair, rubbing your hand alongside his arm. reki only gives a small whimper, his eyes half-shut and he still trembles on top of you. you feel something wet pool at your chest and you look to realize reki is drooling. “baby, you’re drooling”

“s’my shirt, let me drool” he murmurs and your chest jumps with laughter. reki wraps his arms around your torso and nuzzles his face into your chest. “thank you, i love you”

you smooth the hair plastered to his forehead back as he begins to drifts off into sleep. you purse your lips when you realized you were gonna have to wake him up in a bit to go pee. but for now, you could enjoy the afterglow, warm in each other’s embrace.

“i love you too” you whisper into his hair, thinking he had fallen asleep until he shifted to kiss your neck. it grew silent for a bit, until you spoke up. “what if we make it a tradition to dap after we have sex?”

reki is still for a bit, and you think that maybe he actually did fall asleep. suddenly, he shifts up and bites you at the base of you neck, eliciting a shriek from you.

“shut. the. fuck. up” reki mutters into the crook of your neck as you dissolve into a fit of giggles. he begins to laugh too, tightening his grip around your torso.

notes: this...was so long...i'm sorry.

#sk8 the infinity x reader #reki x reader #reki kyan x reader #reki smut #minors dni #sk8 the infinity x y/n #sk8 the infinity smut #smut

1K notes · View notes