#do i want one line/space between paragraphs?

[naivegh0ul]

Ghost gives you a bracelet with a skull charm for your birthday. This cute little woven bracelet with a tiny, clearly handmade charm on it. The gift is so thoughtful you almost cried on the spot. Ghost thought he did something wrong or that you didn't like it when he saw you tearing up.

When you asked him to put it on for you, he teared up a little. He's not really a man who gives gifts as he never had anyone to give them to, so seeing you love his gift made him so happy. He gladly put it on for you, tightening it around your wrist so that it'd never fall off.

He lifted your hand up and kissed your wrist through his mask just for good luck, getting a little flustered under his mask as he did so. He's a sweetheart under his gruff exterior.

#gender neutral reader #ghost cod #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x gender neutral reader #simon riley x gender neutral reader #ghost fluff #im trying to figure out what formatting i like #this is hard #do i want a gap between paragraphs #or does it look okay without it? #do i want one line/space between paragraphs? #so many things to think about so little time

[danielnelsen]

ive been thinking about it for a while and i think in my main world state im gonna have carver become a templar rather than a warden.

a few secondary reasons before my main reason: it’s better for him long-term (lyrium withdrawal sucks but has nothing on *being a warden*); garrett would feel too bad about bringing anders on the expedition when he hates the deep roads so much; garrett also blames himself partially for bethany’s death and wants to protect carver.

main reason: interesting story purposes (the other reasons are mostly just justifications i came up with later, although they’re also true)!

while garrett’s off on his expedition, carver gets some sort of letter or is contacted by a messenger or something that’s intended for garrett but maybe he’s contacted because it’s urgent or just because he’s ‘hawke’ and was mistaken for/assumed to be garrett. it’s something to do with mages, probably helping some mages escape the gallows. maybe it’s a message he has to give to anders or he just decides to go to anders about it. i haven’t thought this part of it through too deeply, but carver and anders get talking about mages.

carver decides to join the templars because he sees it as something he can do to really make a difference on his own terms. not by being a ‘good templar’ and trying to make them better (he’s not a coward), but by undercutting them and helping mages escape from the inside. not a perfect plan because templars have to prove their loyalty to the order by doing who knows what, but he wants to do SOMETHING that isn’t just running around after garrett and being in the background.

nothing that happens in-game changes at all. carver lets garrett think he joined because he saw it as a purpose or a meaningful path or whatever, or just to spite him, partly to protect him and partly because he wants this all to be on his terms; garrett can’t be involved. anders is his main contact, but he gets anders to swear not to tell garrett (‘to protect him’ is a very convincing argument to anders).

#im sure this isn’t anything even close to a novel idea #i just don’t want him to be a warden. im trying to save him from a really shitty life that he can never escape from #but i just can’t see him joining the templars because he genuinely believes in what they do. it doesn’t check out #also ftr this is an ‘ugh i guess ill work with you’ alliance between carver and anders #that makes it more fun (for me to think about) #obviously this all sucks for everyone involved (especially garrett who spends 6 years thinking carver has seriously betrayed him) #but i think it works pretty well #da2 #personal #also. wtf is with the weird paragraph spacing when you’re writing a post on mobile #some of these paragraphs have the space of one line between them and others have about FIVE #idk if that’s gonna show in the actual post. i hope not lmao

[dukeofankh]

Trying to find progressive masculine community is so exhausting.

I've flipped through local men's groups, trying to find places to explore masculinity in a chill, progressive setting. First of all, they mostly seem to be modelled after AA, and like, my gender isn't a debilitating addiction, it's part of my identity actually, but also, the invite and description of the event have maybe a short paragraph tops actually waving vaguely in the direction of what the purpose of the group is, and then ten to twenty paragraphs breaking down the rules. One spent longer talking about the hand signals he would use to direct conversation than he did describing what the conversation would be about. Another had a full paragraph explaining that if the group thought you were evading what they thought your "real" problem was, they'd probably "call you to take accountability". Like...I don't even know who these people are yet and they're already letting me know that they view it as their right, no, their duty, to bully me into seeing things their way. Like, this is in the invite.

...and this warning is there instead of any sort of breakdown of like, I dunno. Whether you should be a feminist to show up. Whether it was a safe space for queer men. What the hell they wanted to talk about. Joining a men's space is on some level inherently submitting yourself to the authority of the leaders of that group, and you don't usually get a particularly clear breakdown of what the values and goals of those leaders are, because on some level the answer is always going to be "whatever I want"

And like, unfortunately you do need to filter men to build a men's space. You do need to remove or chastise men who act in ways that are toxic or disruptive or misogynistic. If you don't things turn into an MRA chapter pretty quick. But the sort of emergency powers that leadership takes on as a result of that...just kind of naturally end up reproducing masculine heirarchies.

MensLib, the only online community of progressive dudes talking about masculinity that I'm aware of, is...on Reddit. So there is a moderator system. In theory, a moderator is there to...moderate. This is a space where people are going to be talking, and mods are there to make sure things don't get too toxic or off topic.

The issue is that, on some level, that is technically a leadership position. In a sub trying to rehabilitate masculinity. So you've got a bunch of folks who view themselves as the leaders of this bastion of goodness standing against the depredations of the misogynistic internet, guiding the hapless smooth-brain neophytes towards The True Way.

In practice, this looks like 95 percent of the posts submitted for the subreddit being rejected. That isn't hyperbole. On average, the sub has about one new post per day. Almost all posts directly relating a personal experience are deleted immediately, in favour of articles written about masculinity in traditional media publications, which are considered more trustworthy than the sus lived experiences of the guys in the sub. The post I wrote here about the effect of purity culture on male sexual shame that's sitting at about 15K notes was based on a 10K word post I wrote for Reddit that was deleted because "I didn't cite any sources to prove that there is a link between purity culture and male sexual shame, or that my experience was anything more than anecdotal". I get comments deleted on a regular basis, and after paragraphs of protesting in modmail that my comments are both fully in line with feminism and not against the rules, the mods have just finally told me that the rules don't actually drive their actions as a team. They delete anything they feel leads the conversation in a direction they personally feel is unproductive. The rule cited at the time of deletion is really just the broad category of why they decided to hit the button that says nobody is allowed to read what I wrote.

The issue is kind of twofold. First of all, progressive men do not trust other men. A good dude knows that he, individually, is a good person, but literally any other man external to him is on thin ice. Do you really want to tie your wagon to that guy? Do you trust him, really? How do you tell the difference between a guy criticizing an article because it's factually incorrect and criticising it because a woman wrote it? Probably best to play it safe and delete it. Weight of the odds, he's probably a misogynist, right? This is the internet.

And thats the other half of it. If you view yourself as part of the leadership of The Good Guys, and you're getting hatemail from incels and facists all day, you get to the point where most of the time people challenge your authority it's because they're a terrible person. It is very, very easy to get to the point where someone challenging you is seen as evidence that they are a bad person. And now someone is challenging you (and therefore bad), in an environment where you are in charge, and you have a "make your opponent disappear" button.

I know. A Reddit mod was rude to me and now I'm butthurt. It's petty and stupid. I'm just feeling like there's nowhere else to really go, and I'm pretty despondent that literally every space I've seen that even looks like it might be for progressive men has the same deeply hierarchical structure and constant status-oriented squabbling as patriarchal spaces.

#me writing stuff #positive masculinity #menslib

[wordsnstuff]

Hey, so i'm working on my first WIP, and i wanted to ask about drafting. When can one consider their first draft done? Does it have to have the goal word count (ie; 100K), or would being about halfway there be considered a good enough first draft, that i can move on to the second and start editing?

Concluding each stage of the writing process

It's difficult to know when a phase of a writing project has concluded and you're ready to focus on a new objective as it's developing. I tend to approach my writing projects with a clear and uniform trajectory, regardless of how diverse my projects can be. This approach allows me to remain focused, thorough, and reassured that I am covering all my bases in an organized fashion. However, it also maintains space for me to be explorative and intuitive when necessary. In regards to word count, I don't think it's entirely relevant unless you're determined to adhere to strict genre conventions. Give your story the space it needs and not an extra inch.

(Optional) Zero Draft

In this phase, you're telling yourself the story. You're doing it quickly, messily, intuitively, and forgivingly. Explore every idea that glows in the dark for you, don't throw anything away or discount any possibility. Exhaust your imagination in this phase so that when you reach the first draft, you know you're making informed decisions.

First Draft

You're crafting the structure and core elements of the story. This is often the phase of discovery. You're becoming acquainted with your characters and how they interact, you're beginning to feel at home in the world and settings you've built, and you're seeing all sides of the conflict as it evolves. The goal here is settle on a beginning, middle, and end point, and by the end of this process you want to know your characters' motivations and relationships inside and out.

Second Draft

Go back quickly through the first draft and address any points where you got stuck, where you compromised for the sake of carrying on to the end, and fill in any apparent blanks. The first time you really iron something out, there will always be a few pesky creases. This is the time to find and flatten them.

Third Draft

This is where you question everything. Identify and scrutinize your decisions, dive into the "curtains are blue" discussions with yourself, and begin to tidy up things like grammar, clumsy dialogue, over-poured descriptions, and dubious vocabulary. Comb through each paragraph and be brutal, prioritizing clarity and intentionality of how you've told the story.

The Read Through

This is the point where I recommend doing three things:

Letting it rest away from you for 1-3 months so that you can return to it with a bit of unfamiliarity and new perspective.

Hand it off to a couple of trusted readers and give them ample time to read, digest, and craft some feedback

Reread the project once all the way through making no changes (although annotations are acceptable)

Fourth Draft

Finishing touches. Vigorously and meticulously scrub and scrape between the lines and imagine giving it to your worst enemy. If you can imagine any mean (but valid) things they could conceive of to say about it, this is the time to grapple with or fix those details.

Additional Resources

Guide to Drafting

Word Count/Productivity Tracker Spreadsheet

Balancing Detail & Development

Writing The First Chapter

Writing The Middle of Your Story

Powering Through The Zero-Draft Phase

Writing The Last Chapter

Chapter Length

Happy drafting,

x Kate

#writing #writeblr #writing advice #authorblr #writing resources #drafting

[cheollipop]

*swims across the ocean and shows up at your door with my lobster plushie (larry) in my arms* hiii my nora i love youuu and i’m so excited for the sleepover ahh >< ALSO I HAD THIS IDEA RIGHT …. soo … gamer boyfriend woo – he loves to play LoL in the late night hours and he’s been ignoring you and you’re just sooo needy for him that you crawl into his lap and rub yourself against this thigh to try to get his attention and bc he sucks ass at the game he’s mad and hard but stubborn so he’s like, “if you want my cock so bad then you can keep it warm for me, can’t you, baby?” so you cockwarm him until you can’t help but move your hips and he can’t resist your pussy so he just fucks you into next week <333 ahem … so… what should we do? make some hot cocoa and have a pillow fight? :3 💕

2𝙠 𝙎𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩

my alyssa ily too!! <3<3 gamer bf woo...... cockwarming...... frustrated woo...... *head in hands* good god. I fr had to do research for this bc I don't play league, but wanted to include some of the gameplay between paragraphs of reader being needy ^^ also went a little crazy towards the end so enjoy the filth ig. hope you like this, happy reading!!~

pairing: gamer bf!jung wooyoung x fem!reader

w.c.: 1.0k

tags: smut, dry/thigh humping, some teasing, cockwarming, mean/frustrated woo, he may or may not switch up a little tho ^^, reader is so needy (not projecting whatsoever), creampie kink, terrible description of league gameplay oopsie

nsfw under cut—minors dni!

Wooyoung’s character remained perched by the fountain, mainly because the opposing team had formed a camp around his own’s spawn point, taking them down before they got the chance to make their way out. He tried to convince himself it was just that, and that the heavy drag of your clothed cunt over his thigh had nothing to do with the drowned out, fuming screams blasting into his eardrums, the idle stares at his screen while his character repeatedly respawned, the nth time the ‘defeat’ screen flashed before him.

“Woo, please,” he saw your lips move in his peripheral, one side of his headset moved off his ear to catch the faint whine leaving your lips as you used his thigh to get off. “You’ve been playing for so long….. ‘want you so bad.”

He didn’t reply, but the arms reaching past you to punch at the keycaps tightened around your waist, his muscles flexing under your moving figure. It’s only when his screen turned red once more that his attention shifted to you, your grinding faltering when fierce, lidded eyes fixed on yours. He remained quiet, the silence stretching until you shifted on his lap, a groan echoing in the space between you when the heat of your wet cunt engulfed the throbbing bulge in his sweatpants, your arousal seeping through your ruined panties to stain the grey material. His fingers floated above your hips, refusing to hand the control over to you, yet battling the need to touch you as you rolled your hips over his weeping cock.

“C’mon, Woo, I've been good-”

“Good?” His eyebrow raised, he gazed at you in disbelief. “Is that what you call humping my thigh like a needy slut while my friends listen to your pathetic whining?”

Wooyoung watched you panic, turn your head around in search for the crossed out mic, your shoulders slumping in relief once you realised that had muted himself the second you’d walked through the doorway, the familiar glint in your eyes enough to inform him of your intentions.

Twisting your head to face him again, you stutter over your words while he stares back at you with burning irises, “no, Woo, I-”

“if you’re such a good girl, then why don’t you warm my cock while I win the next match for my friends, hm?”

And you did, scrambling to pull the elastic waistband down to free his pulsing length, the tip glistening with precum, lowering your head to allow a line of drool to lube up the rest of it, unaware of the hooded eyes following the trail of saliva then the hand spreading it over his cock. Adjusting his headset to properly cover both ears, the infuriated scolding blaring through the speakers masking the grunt leaving his lips when you split yourself open on his girth, taking every last inch between your walls.

Wooyoung waited until you found a comfortable position, a hand on your lower back urging you closer to his chest until your arms circled his waist and head rested on his shoulder. You heard his keyboard clacking behind you, followed by the rasp of his voice in your ear,

“Was AFK, sorry. What did I miss?”

More screaming. Screaming you drowned out as soon as it started—the overlapping voices and aggressive mouse clicking fading the more you take in Wooyoung’s warmth, his cock nestled deep within your fluttering cunt, inhaling the pungent musk emanating off his honey skin. His thighs flexed under you. He wasn’t unaffected by your tight heat, that much was obvious. He was just being stubborn.

You rolled your hips experimentally, the edge of your panties dragging over the side of his cock where you had them pushed to the side, the fingers resting over the expensive keyboard flying to your hip, Wooyoung’s neck craning to shoot a disapproving glance your way. Shifting his attention back to the game, you moved again, clenching around him and smiling to yourself when a broken moan left his parted lips.

Wooyoung wasn’t sure where his irritation stemmed from—was it his continuous losses, the fact that he was absolutely terrible at the game and the only reason his team ever won is because Yunho carried every time, or was it because he needed you so bad, despite his wordless claims otherwise? Both, perhaps. But mostly the latter, he finally admitted, the small, incessant rolls of your hips paired with heated lips pressing kisses to his pulse point breaking his long-lasting composure.

“Something came up, got to go,” he blurted out, hurriedly dropping his headset over his desk before standing up with you in his arms.

Hastily grabbing onto his shoulders, you studied his expression while he held you—features relaxed, a semblance of a smile on his lips, it seemed as though his previous exasperation had dispersed without warning, eyes now filled with nothing but adoration. He mooned over your dazed features, clouded by unbearable lust as you continue to grind on him despite your position, sending gentle waves of pleasure up his spine and aggravating his need to stuff you full of his cum. Until you’re fucked-out and leaking, mumbling repetitions of his name into the sheets, begging for a break while he pounds into your overstimulated cunt.

He laid you down onto the mattress, a hand on your spine to soften your descent, contrary to the replaying images of how he planned to take you, to fuck you senseless, to watch your pussy spit his load out only to finger it back into your womb.

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry,” he ran his hands up the sides of your body, pressing his lips to the exposed skin of your neck as he spoke. “You’ve been so good, haven’t you? ‘Been such a needy slut for Youngie,” slipping his cock out, he swiftly discarded of your panties and fitted himself back inside your heat, fingers pushing up the material of your shirt to grab handfuls of your tits. “Let me make it up to you, ‘wanna give you all my love.”

#panda's 2k sleepover o(≧▽≦)o #cromernet #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #ateez x reader #ateez smut #jung wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung scenarios #ateez scenarios

[sevsdollette]

Not So Sweet [Sevika x fem reader]

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49324864/chapters/137713357

content warning: trigger warning for violence against the reader. if mean men in bars freak you out, read with caution. other than that, alcohol, gambling, smoking, and smut (obviously). reader eats sevika out. fingering. sorry if you just want it to be sevika doing shit to the reader, but yk the woman has needs as well.

summary: You go out with Sevika as her gambling date. It’s a calm night at the Last Drop where everything should be fun and easy. But your beauty doesn’t just attract Sevika.

chapters:

1. Relaxing Night

2. A Long Night at Work

3. A Gamble of A Night

note: tell me why every chapter title has the word night in it. i’m back @-@. so yeah it’s been a minute. hope no one is too mad at me. this one maybe a bit shorter than the others? not entirely sure. also i know this ends with like a cliff hanger, but i promise the next chapter will leave no holes in the time line. you gays will get what you want. sorry if there’s spelling mistakes i wrote most of this on my phone. it’s not like i’m an AP english student or anything (i am :/) also sorry for the format being a bit different. tumblr is pissing me the fuck off right now. i don’t care to fix the spacing between the paragraphs. i’m tired.

————————————18+————————————

The glow of the Last Drops neon sign felt a bit more familiar than before. This time, more than a drink was waiting for you inside.

It was a clear, hot night with busy streets and crowded alleys, and you were wearing a black catsuit with long sleeves and shorts that hardly covered your ass. The zipper down the front was pulled so low the clothes were practically falling off of you.

This time, when you walked up to the bouncer, past the long, impatient line, you hardly had to open your mouth before he was opening the door and letting you in. The groans and hateful stares of the people waiting felt like a crown on your head. You were still scum, sure, but for the night you were important.

On that evening, the bar wasn’t full of screaming patrons and blasting music, but slow, cool jazz. It was their calmest night where the low lamps gave off an orange-red glow on the deep wooden walls, and every shadow seemed comforting. People sat calmly at their tables, passing cards and taking shots. The ceiling hung low with the smoke of cigars and cigarettes. A sweet smell of booze wafted through the room, making any nasty smell of the people buying the drinks.

In her normal corner booth, Sevika was sitting with four men, cigarette pressed between her lips and cards in her hands. She was laughing lightly as she passed a card into the center of the table. The candle in the middle of the room illuminated her face and curved around her features. Beautiful, you thought, staring at her vibrant eyes.

As you waded through the tables of the room, she noticed you approaching, glancing over as the conversation at her table continued. Keeping an eye on you. You kept your cool, only giving a small smile back as you approached. Men of the bar kept looking up at your figure as you walked by their tables, admiring the way the leather suit curved over your hips and hugged your thighs.

The other men at the table were just as harsh and brutish as Sevika, all with scars over their faces or hands, rugged clothes, and a mean glare. They were younger than her but older than you, and they didn’t seem too friendly when you came up to the table.

One of them, with white blonde hair and a blind eye, wrinkled her nose as he looked you up and down. With a toothpick in his mouth, he questioned, “Who’s that?”

Sevika cleared her throat, looking down at her cards as she drew another from the deck. “I hired her.”

You froze, brow furrowing as your upper lip curled. Your services didn’t involve simple company at a bar. You surely didn’t want to be here if she was going to pay you for it.

She chuckled under her breath, looking up at you. “I’m kidding, doll. Sit down.” She tapped the spot on the cushion next to her.

Apprehensive, you sat beside her slowly. If this night was just going to be her being a bitch, you weren’t going to get involved. You could go back to Babettes and earn your dinner like always. You didn’t need her free food. And her expensive rum. And her perfectly rolled clove cigarettes…

The more you looked around the table, the longer you wanted to stay. You’d seen her and her men around the bar before but never noticed how nice of a night they always had. Each man was sitting comfortably around the booth with either a cigar, cigarette, or drink, lounging as they waited for the game to start. The loud music was slightly muffled, making the table almost cozy and closed off.

They were just finishing a game as you got there, a pile of coins in front of Sevika and dwindling collections by the other players. They were settling bets and getting more drinks, idle conversation as everyone got ready for another round. Sevika shuffled the deck and delt you your own hand.

You were sitting close to her, but just far enough away so you didn’t touch. A distance she would have to choose to close if she really wanted to. Yes, you liked her and wanted her attention, but you weren’t going to devote yourself to her to get it. If she really liked you, she’d take what she wanted.

And it didn’t take her long. As she was puting your cards down in front of her, she smiled and met your eyes. Her gaze drifted down your neck, chest, and down to your lap. She was close, her broad figure looming beside you enough to block your view of three of the men.

Her eyebrows raised. “You’ve got something on your neck.”

A heat hit your face as you rubbed the skin under your chin. God, you couldn’t look decent just once. “What is it?”

“Something I left for you.”

Your hands dropped and you rolled your eyes. “Oh, fuck off.”

She smiled wider, shaking her head and sitting back. The tables was coming back together and everyone was picking up their cards as a waitress came around with more drinks. She had a glass for you and Sevika poured you some rum. The waitress smiled a bit too sweetly at Sevika when she said thank you, and it made you inch a bit closer to her.

You picked up your cards and sipped your drink. Rum was never your favorite, but in this setting, it felt right. Your deal wasn’t the worst, but you;d defitnety have to sit out for the round. You were trying to play your best.

At the brothel, you and your tolerable coworkers would play and gamble during slow hours all the time. Your room was the hot spot where everyone would crown around the coffee table, taking a smoke break, and having good fun. It was never that serious, everyone putting their earrings or hair clips in as prizes only to hand them back at the end of the game. But, there was a skill level that all of you developed.

And you were the best.

You all got through two games that Sevika won. She truly enjoyed it. A sly smile spread across her face as she collected everyone’s coins, only handing you a coy apology and running her hand up your though to make up for it. It didn’t matter to you. Your cards weren’t that good anyway.

Though, you liked the way she got when she was that happy. She was touchy. She would “accidentally” brush her hand over your tit, and she really liked to fiddle with that zipper that rested between your ribs. You’d push her away, saying something about how stupid she was being and how the alcohol was getting to her, and she’d give a boozy smile and turn to shuffle the cards again.

On the third game, you got a good hand. A really good hand. You kept your cool as you saw the empress and her court smiling up at your on the painted card. Every mention of a tell that your friends had mentioned to you ran through your head and you hid every sign. No one would know. You would win.

It took great thought to get through. Early on, Sevika noticed how much more focused you were, and it caused her to keep putting more money on the table. The men all had relatively bad hands except for one, but he backed out after a while, not trying to get in the middle of whatever mental battle you and Sevika were engaged in.

In the end, with the final turn of a card, you had won. With a huge pile of copper in teh middle fo the table, you whooped and bounced in your seat, grinning as you pulled all of the money towards yourself.

Sevika was angry. You could see it in the way she wouldn’t look at you adn how she stared into her empty glass. Her jaw was clamped tightly shut and she was thinking hard, still looking at the coins you’d taken from her. It wasn’t her fault. She hardly knew you, and she had expected you to be moer of an open book then your were. To be truthful, she dind’t know the half of who you were, and that was her fatal flaw.

Part of her still thougth of you as those prissy virgins she usually saw. It was hard for her to accept that she liked someone so similar to her own spiteful nature. She didn’t like it unless you two were naked, apparently.

She swallowed and shook her head. “I let you win.”

Your nose wrinkled. “Shut up.”

A fake laugh tossed itself from her lips and she held her hands in helplessness. “Just trying to be nice. If I beat you every time, you won’t enjoy it so much. There’s no way you can actually win.”

“Sevika—“ You scoffed, shaking your head at her as you wondered why she fucking bothered to say those things. “Whatever. I’m going to get a cocktail.”

She chuckled bitterly as you stood up. “Rum’s too strong?”

You held your middle finger up behind you as you stomped to the bar. Sevika muttered something else under her breath that you didn’t want to hear. The lively jazz that filled hte bar felt so suffocating now as you walked past a betting table thick with smoke. You didn’t need her pouting just because you won. It was supposed to be a fun night. Only a baby cried because they lost a stupid game.

You sat at the bar and ordered a drink. The bartender was a nice but nervous man who must’ve known who you were accompanying. He stuttered as he took your order and nearly dropped the vodka when he went to pour it. He was good at his job though adn your drinks as sweet with an after taste that stung your throat. You thanked him and made soem idle conversation, knowing that Sevika was watching you out of the corner of her eye.

You could feel the heat of her anger even from that far away. You planned on sitting at the bar for a little longer, let them play a game without you so she could get a win back under her belt. Maybe then she’d be nicer.

The bartender Thieram was a nice man who made you rlaugh once or twice as you sipped your drink. He was respectful. Most men either didn’t like you or liked you too much. It wasn’t often your found someone who treated you like a friend.

This fact was proven a few minutes later when a man steppe dup to the bar to order a beer. He was probably almost thirty with black hair graying on the sides and a long tattoo down her left forearm. He was ugly. But ugly in a way that some people found very attractive, though the second you stared at him for too long, he looked like an abstract painting.

You only glanced at him for a second before stirring your drink while waiting to talk to Thieram again. He had a deep, angry voice. After Thieram turned away, he stayed at the bar and leaned against it, turning to face you. “You alright, babe?”

You didn’t look up. “Who are you calling babe?”

“Just a pretty woman I see at the bar.” He chuckled. “I’m Leox.”

“And I’m not interested.”

None of your blatant signals got through to him. In fact, he stepped closer. Enough that you could smell the weed he’d been smoking. “Come on. You seemed kinda upset at your table. Why don’t you come and join mine? I’ll treat you real good.”

“Oh, will you?”

“Yes,” he sighed. He leaned in, brushing your hair off your forehead. “I will.”

“Hm,” you hummed, closing your eyes as you pretended to enjoy his flirting. “Well…”

You pushed him away. “I’m still not interested.”

You only did men if they paid you for it.

The firm hand you placed on his shoulder withdrew only slightly before he gripped your wrist in place. For a brief moment your breath caught as he tugged you off of your stool and you were stumbling into him.

He grabbed your jaw firmly and pulled your face up to look at him. “Why couldn’t you just be nice? I know you’re just some whore. I could’ve paid well too.”

You jerked from his grasp, trying to turn around to get free and run out of there. He smelt awful and his breath was hot in your face. His teeth were yellow.

You were able to jam your heel into his toes, making him flinch so you could wriggle free, but as you were getting away, his foot caught under you and you fell to the ground. Your palms took the blunt of the pain as you scrambled to get yourself up.

As you pulled yourself to your feet, a heavy set of footsteps was storming past you and towards the man. In your panic, and with the moment being so quick, you hardly heard what she was saying to him—yelling at him.

You spun around, uneasy on your feet, and only saw their final interaction: Her fist against his face.

Once such a strong, intimidating man crumbled into a heap on the floor. Sevika stood over him, shimmer coursing through her metal arm and heavy breaths moved her shoulders, flexing the muscle. She turned around and you only saw the faint glint of purple in her eyes before she passed you again and ordered her men to take the guy out back. Teach him a lesson, she said.

The bar was silent. The woman humming low jazz was standing shocked beside her accordion player, the other patrons were trying to keep their gazes down, and Thieram was standing helpless behind the bar, terrified. You felt your face get hot as you stepped back subconsciously, your arms crossing and hugging your ribs.

Sevika was done barking orders and came up to you, pulling you back into the private room of the bar. The familiar place almost brought back amusing memories if you weren’t so upset.

She pulled you into her arms, examining you and making sure you were alright. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, I’m fine. Shit like that happens all the time to me.”

She exhaled heavily through her nose and looked at the door. She must’ve been pondering whether to go help her men or not, but your hand on hip kept her there.

You two ended up sitting on the couch together sharing a cigarette. You were beside her with your legs rested across her lap and your head on her shoulder. She had her hand gripping your thigh and her metal arm wrapped over your shoulders.

You looked up at her face after a long drag and saw how tense her face was, how she didn’t seem to be moving an inch. Staring off into space with a firm furrow in her brow.

“Sev?” You frowned, brushing her stray hairs off her forehead. “Don’t be so upset. Everything’s okay.”

Sure, you were a bit shaken, but men were always like that to you. It wasn’t right, but it was something you had to get used to. She’d have to understand that if she were to be around you.

She pursed her lips. “It’ll be okay as long as he gets what he deserves.”

You ran your thumb over the muscles of her collar. “Just try to calm down.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”

You sighed, understand the aggression wasn’t towards you. To be honest, you didn’t feel unsafe at all with her. Even though her eyes still sparkled violet when the lamplight caught it.

“Everything will be okay,” you assured. “I’m fine and he’s gonna get what’s coming to him. Relax, dear.”

Again you rubbed her collar and shoulder, your fingers trying to ease any tension she had. You leaned in to place a small kiss under her jaw, and as your lips brushed her skin, she held you tighter against her.

You kissed her neck again, lingering to drag your tongue over her in a way that made her sign and settle into the couch. The action spurred you on and you left another heavy kiss to her pulse point, making sure to leave proof that you did so.

You climbed into her lap and straddled on of her thighs, the right muscle fitting right against your clit. She let you tilt her head back so you could keep up your actions.

“What…”

A sly smile spread across your lips and you kissed below her ear. “Just trying to help you relax,” you cooed, a bit of mischief in your voice as one of your hands fiddled with the top button of her vest.

As you pulled the button free, her hand on your thigh got ever so slightly tighter and you remembered the shimmer in her system.

“Come on, Sev, don’t be so upset. Don’t let him ruin the night.”

You dragged your kisses down her chest, letting more of her buttons become undone until she was helping you pull her arms out of the sleeves and you tossed her shirt onto the other side of the couch.

She looked magnificent, curving muscle winding down her stomach, scars lacing her skin, and her breasts dark and nipples pebbled from the cold.

As you took the moment to admire her, she grabbed your ass and nudged you to keep going. You’d never expect her to be so lenient on letting you have control, but maybe she was trusting you more. Or maybe she just really needed to let some stress out.

Your tongue slid across her chest, lips finding one of her breasts for you to suck on. You twirled your tongue around her nipple, sucking it into your mouth and rolling it around your teeth. She moaned, gripping you hair and letting you grind on her thigh. It was a perfect mixture of giving and receiving, all of her grains sending shockwaves to your core and you reveled in the taste of her.

You wanted to taste more.

As you slid onto the floor on your knees, you dragged you hands down her thighs and then up to undo her belt. She was breathing heavily as you kissed down her stomach, enjoying the sensation of her muscle against your lips. You pulled her pants down with her underwear, wrestling them over her boots and letting them be lost somewhere in the room.

Adrenaline led you to avidly kiss down her thighs, licking over every inch on the insides as you got closer and closer to her core. You could tell her was ready for you, her hand gripped the back of your head, waiting to hold your mouth against her. You moaned as she tugged at your hair lightly, trying to get you to start.

You left a long kiss on her inner thigh, just an inch from her pussy befor turning to begin. Only, you stopped to look up at her flushed face as smile.

“You’re so gorgeous, Sev.”

The compliment was not taken happily. “I swear to god—you and that fucking mouth of yours,” She breathed, her pupils blown as she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, you don’t like the teasing when it’s the other way around?”

“Just eat,” she huffed, pushing your face into her core.

It was hot and dripping, so ready for you. You lifted one thigh into your shoulder and spread her folds with your fingers. Her hairs were well kept and trimmed, brushing your nose as you dragged your tongue through her, tasting her.

She moaned, pushing your face further into her as you found her clit, flattening your tongue and coaxing over the bud. As you worked her up, you slid your fingers down and circled her entrance slowly, teasing it lightly.

Another heavy groan fell from her as she tightened her legs around your head. You could hardly hear her due to the clamp her thighs had over your ears.

Everything was so intense, the scent of her, the taste, the pressure of her legs, and the ughh grip she had on your hair. All you could do was kiss and lick her clit, enjoying the moment. It was so overwhelming you completely forgot any else that had happened that night.

You flicked her bud with the tip of your tongue, sucking on it as you slid two fingers into her.

It made her tense up and her head fell back over the back of the couch. She was desperate, holding your face so close and gently rocking her hips against your tongue as you fucked your fingers into her.

“Fuck, baby, don’t stop,” she demanded. You could sense her stress waning as she breathed deep and relaxed into you. You circled your fingers against her walls every time you pushed them in, sucking and licking her clit as you did so.

With your other hand, you pulled down the zipper of your suit and reached under the leather to find yourself. All of her heaving and moaning was too much for you to handle. The taste of her alone made you drip. You slid your fingers between your lips, finding your eager, swollen bud and stroking it.

You moaned against her, the vibrations making her gasp and you quickened your pace on both her and you. She was desperate, fucking heralded on your face bc had while you moaned against her clit and sucked. Rapid, intelligible words fell from her lips as she reached her high, curses and praised to you crescendoing into muttering whines as she came.

The pressure of her legs and your fingers rubbing over your clit was enough to get yourself there too. You cried out into her folds, the stimulation making her jerk as she came down from her high with you.

The both of you were breathing heavily as you crawled back up to her lap. She held you, sliding her hands past the unzipped front of your catsuit so she could feel your hot skin.

Your lips met in a messy clash or desperation. She dragged her teeth over your bottom lip as she made her grind your pussy against hers, the overstimulation making you both shudder.

Just as easily as you’d fallen into her kiss, she was pulling away and moving you off her lap. She set you down on the couch as she stood up, grabbing her clothes off the floor and couch to put them back on.

You sat up, anger and panick setting in. Did you do something wrong? “What—where are you going?”

She began to button her vest up, a grin sliding over her lips. “I’m taking you home.”

#fanfic #arcane #arcane league of legends #fanfiction #smut #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x y/n #sevika fanfic #sevika smut #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #lesbian

[devildom-moss]

For requests maybe some Satan x Gn!Mc NSFW. Maybe Mc wants to try out some like Primal Prey type dynamic stuff but Satan is worried about hurting them. Maybe some like fluff almost like comfort stuff where Mc reassures Satan that they trust him? You write him so well, thank you so much and have a great day!

Sorry this one took so long, anon. But I hope you'll like what I came up with. Thank you for the request, and I'm glad you like how I write Satan. Hopefully, this one will not disappoint because this is a whole new side of Satan and I had a lot of fun with it. I don't write a lot of sub! or bottom!MC - but especially the former, but oh boy.. I did not think I would appreciate dom!top!Satan as much as I do right now.

Primal Play with Satan

(Satan x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (dom!Satan) (sub!MC) (NSFW tags: bottom!MC, primal play, outdoor sex, growling, biting, scratching, marking, hunter/hunted, predator/prey, demon form Satan, edgeplay - a little bit, oral - receiving, mild degradation and name calling including affectionate slut shaming/use of the terms "slut" and "whore," mentions of breeding regardless of whether that's physically possible, no condom, no lube bad do not recommend, creampie, aftercare) (other tags: fluff, reverse comfort, lots of plot)

Word Count: +3,600

You and Satan were sitting in his room, reading into the night. You were laying in Satan’s bed with a collection of short mysteries that he had recommended. Satan was sat in his armchair with a book of poems; his reading glasses had begun to slip down the bridge of his nose, but he paid it no mind. A low, shaky breath left him, and he called out to you, “MC, come here for a minute. I want to read this one for you.”

“Alright, just a second,” you replied calmly while you finished the paragraph you were reading. You placed a bookmark in and joined Satan.

He pat his thigh, motioning you to sit, and once he had you in his grasp, his chin came to rest on your shoulder. There was something about the way his long fingers curled around the book, plunged between pages to mark his place as he focused on getting you comfortable, that dried your throat and made your thoughts wander. When he opened the page, there was a short block poem next to a painting of a pomegranate in a muted pink with purple undertones.

Satan dropped into a sultry voice as he read – his breath tickling your neck slightly:

“I want to stain your skin

like pomegranate,

dripping honey and vanilla,

soft on your lips,

along your thighs.”

Satan’s free hand caressed up your thigh as he continued to read:

“Candlelight casts shadows,

grand and trembling

on your walls.

When I bite down on your shoulder,”

You half expected to feel his teeth against your skin. The second of tension was spent bracing yourself, hopefully, but it was quickly eased – or rather, unrewarded – when he fell to the next line.

“I catch your back

in the vanity mirror,

blood bespeckling scratches

down

your

spine. Flush against

black silk,

I hold you on my tongue”

Heat overwhelmed you; you wanted his tongue on you so urgently that you began to squirm in his lap, feeling him harden slightly. He was doing this on purpose. Satan held his tongue, letting the short space between lines build anticipation. He inched closer, almost kissing behind your ear, then whispered, “and wait for you to burst.”

You turned to stare at him. Those bright green eyes stared back at you – somehow feeling as if they ought to be a cold shade of green. You felt frozen there.

Satan set his book down atop a large, only semi-precarious tower of books so he could get both of his hands on your body. Certainly, Satan wasn’t the largest demon – he wasn’t even the largest in the household. However, when he took you in his arms, you felt engulfed – if not physically, then by his presence alone. One of his hands slowly ran up the front of your neck, guiding your gaze up to his ceiling.

“Let me make love to you,” he purred against your shoulder.

“Actually,” you hesitated, “there’s something I want to try.”

You got up and straddled his lap, facing him completely, before you told him that you wanted to try primal play with him. In truth, he wasn’t quite sure what you were asking of him. He had an inkling but couldn’t form a clear thought about it in his mind.

You brought up that werewolf story he had read recently – the one with that spicy scene where the love interest stalked the main character through the forest until inevitably, the mc was in the wolf’s grasp, and then “. . .you know the rest.”

Satan blushed. Sometimes he forgot that he lent some of his adult romance and erotica to you after he finished reading it. Don’t get me wrong, he loved that you were both comfortable enough to essentially share porn with each other, but the thought that you remembered it a few weeks later embarrassed him.

Unfortunately, all he could think about was your poor knees on a rough forest floor or how hard he might thrust into you or grab you with all that adrenaline in his system. What if you stayed out of his grasp for too long and he got frustrated – and what if he turned that mild anger against you? He couldn’t stand the thought of harming your precious body. Despite all of Satan’s rage, he only wanted to make you feel comfortable and good. Moreover, he didn’t trust himself to get into such an intense and violent mindset.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Satan’s grip on you softened, and he sounded apologetic.

“Oh.” Your shoulders slumped immediately. You didn’t expect him to reject your suggestion so quickly. Usually, he would give your ideas more consideration – or at least ask a few more questions. “Is it a hard no?”

“Please don’t look so sad.” You were going to break his heart. “I just don’t want you to get hurt – rather, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Why would you hurt me?”

“With all the adrenaline, I don’t know if I could hold myself back. What if I push you too far and you get hurt?”

“Satan, when’s the last time you seriously hurt me?”

“I don’t know.” He paused to think. “Did I hurt you when we first met?”

“My sweet boy,” you smiled and caressed his cheek, “you have never inflicted any serious harm to me – especially on purpose. And you rarely hurt me at all on accident. You’re so gentle with me. I just want to see a different side of you.”

“That side is a monster. I’m a demon of wrath. Why would you want that?”

“Because it’s still you.” You held his face in both of your hands. “I trust you.”

“Why? That’s such a risk.” The confusion on his face was heartbreaking. No one had ever trusted him to control himself so much. Your faith in him was almost a burden, but he wanted to carry it. He wanted it so badly; he was just terrified.

“Because I love you.” It was the perfect justification, and he responded by kissing you roughly.

“Why do you always know what to say?”

“Coping mechanism,” you joked.

“If we do this,” Satan spoke sternly, “you promise you’ll tell me the moment you’re uncomfortable? Stoplight system? If anything goes wrong, you’ll use your pact to stop me, right?”

“Yes, but I won’t need to.” Satan bit his lip. You were so trusting – too trusting. He didn’t want you showing such a vulnerable side to anyone else. He nipped your ear gently. A soft purr vibrated against you.

“Should we try it now?” Satan checked the nearby clock. “It’s late. I don’t think anyone else is up. I could take you out back and release you into the garden. The moonlight is beautiful tonight, and it’s not too cold, either.”

“Yes, yes, it’s a romantic night,” you rubbed your thumbs over his cheeks, “but that’s not the mood I’m going for.”

“I know. Just give me a few seconds to be romantic before we start.” Satan stared at you affectionately. If you trusted him, he trusted you. Peace and resolve came over him just by looking at you. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Satan snuck you down to the garden, hand in his. You felt like young lovers running away into the night. Once outside, Satan shifted into his demon form, growling into your ear and blowing extra-hot breath onto your neck. His heat contrasted with the cool Devildom air – so drastic that it made you shudder. His tail gently wrapped around your ankle, touching you so slightly that he couldn’t hurt you – so long as you stayed perfectly still, at least.

“Be careful not to trip, love. You’ve got 5 minutes to run and hide. And then, I will find you.” His hand wrapped around your upper arm, each finger slowly curling over your skin, one at a time. You could feel the fear rising in your chest – your breath catching in your throat. Satan ran his long, sharp tongue up your neck slowly. His voice dropped and he whispered, “run.”

You were freed from his touch immediately. The fear almost stalled your feet, but you ran off towards the rows of hedges, trying to locate a clear entrance to the forest. Your bare feet hit the hard paved paths. Maybe you should have put shoes on before you left, but it was too late now. You spotted a row of floral arches and ducked into it. The moonlight shined on the flowers in the garden, especially the roses, almost making them appear to glow. Maybe you should try outdoor sex another time – a much sweeter version of it. Right now, however, you could see a path into the forest.

You had barely reached the tree lines when a loud rush of air sounded with a flash of light. Satan had blown a puff of fire towards the sky to signal that your time was up. You could see it dissipate over the hedges. He was coming.

Finally, you understood those nightmarish scenes in which the branches of trees appeared as angry, violent limbs. You found your previous speed impossible as you tried to navigate the woods silently. If you broke any branches or rustled too many leaves, he’d hear you. Satan, on the other hand, was able to make as much noise as he wanted. You heard him move through the brush. What you assumed was the sound of him jumping down from the fallen tree signaled that he was gaining on you. If you kept running, he’d catch up to you soon. You’d have to do the near-impossible and outsmart him.

You hid behind one of the large trees just off a vaguely formed path. Less than a minute passed before you heard Satan stalking through, mere feet away from you. His breath was shallow – only slightly exhausted from the chase. He let out a low chuckle. “I can hear you panting, dear.”

He knew you were nearby. You covered your mouth to stifle the noise. Both hands were clasped over your lips, trembling. Your eyes turned to the sky; it was all you could do to calm yourself and steady your breath as your lungs seemed to burn. Satan growled and his steps began to fade. Unable to risk him doubling back, you immediately rushed into the opposite direction.

If you had just waited another minute or two, you might have prolonged the chase, but your impatience would be punished. You were too early, and Satan heard your movement, giving prompt chase. He closed in on you. Your time had run up.

“Found you,” Satan mused, pushing you roughly against a nearby tree the second you fell into his grasp. He forced your face against the bark, pressing shallow indents into your skin. A breathy chuckle crawled down your neck, where Satan sank his teeth. One hand was locked over your shoulder, pulling you close, while his other hand was groping your ass. From behind, he forced his hand between your thighs and rubbed over your clothes. He chuckled again. “You must really want this. I can smell your arousal already.”

“N-no,” you denied it. He could have been lying about smelling you – you weren’t sure how much better his senses were, but you hoped it wasn’t true. Hearing him say it aloud was embarrassing.

The tip of Satan’s tail snaked just under your pant leg. The sharp edges of each small segment on the tip threatened to slice your skin. Satan shushed you and warned, “stay still. I don’t want to hurt that precious skin of yours.”

Using his tail like a serrated blade, Satan cut your clothes off. The sound of fabric tearing filled your head. You had to brace yourself as he tugged at your clothes. Satan didn’t even leave your underwear intact.

A cool breeze sent a chill up your spine just as Satan rubbed himself against your bare ass. He was still fully clothed. Typically, you might tell him that he was being unfair, but the friction left you wanting, and all you could do was mindlessly stick your ass out a bit more for him. He laughed and clicked his tongue. “Is prey supposed to be this needy?”

Satan bit your ear lobe with a low growl before he dropped to his knees. You may be needy, but he wanted to prepare you first – especially with the absence of lube. His hands grabbed your thighs and brought you to his lips. That tongue of his was longer, wetter, and warmer in his demon form. His claws dug into your skin, but it didn’t hurt. Even when he scratched down one of your legs, the burn was a pleasant tingle that only momentarily distracted you from the pleasure of his tongue working on you. Every slow, calculated lap at your entrance, every ravenous plunge into you, squirming up into you, every teasing flick – he was savoring you and your reactions. Only when he had made a sufficient mess of you did Satan pull away, admiring the sight of you sticking your ass out, legs spread, with your upper body braced against the tree.

“I think you’re ready for more,” Satan smirked up at you.

Satan turned your body and forced you to the ground on your hands and knees. You glanced back just in time for him to drag his claws down your spine. He had undressed while he was tonguing you – which only proved what a good job he had been doing for you to have not noticed.

There was lust in your eyes, but also a tinge of fear that Satan wanted to extinguish from you. He rubbed up against your ass slowly. Suddenly, you realized how eerily quiet the surrounding forest was. Satan had managed to scare everything off with his deep growls and snarls – both during the chase and as he licked you. Normally, the quiet would be terrifying, but not with Satan. He bent over and growled into your ear before sinking his teeth into your shoulder. The pain was compounded when you felt him force the tip of his cock into you. You wanted to cover your mouth with your hand, but you weren’t sure you’d be able to hold yourself up; you had no choice but to let that sweet groan spill into the night.

Slowly, Satan pushed his full length into you – inch by inch. You hadn’t wanted him to be gentle with you, but this was Satan, and you knew he was trying to be rough and primal. Parts of him just slipped through, though. He waited until you had taken all of him to dip down next to your ear again and growl, “you’re all mine. Don’t you dare fucking forget it.”

You were left trembling. He had never been so rough, and you just wanted him to destroy you. Still, this was Satan. His chest pressed against your back as he reached one hand down to rub the front of your body, desperate to make you feel even better. Satan slammed his other hand onto the ground right next to yours, inching closer until he could grab hold of your wrist. His grip was strong, and he dug his claws into you. Even still, he couldn’t completely disguise that occasional need of his to hold your hand during sex.

His hands and deep thrusts were so attentive that you came while he continued to have his way with you. The pleasure – and the preceding chase – took its toll on your body. Your arms shook. Unable to hold yourself up on all fours, you leaned forward, pressing your cheek to the moss-covered ground.

Satan laughed and pulled back enough to admire the sight. “Fuck, you’re such weak prey. Fine.”

Fine? You were confused. He pulled out of you, leaving you empty and disappointed, but that need was soothed when Satan forced you onto your back effortlessly and pushed back into you with urgency.

The demon above you looked wild and ravenous. And yet, the moonlight shined off his horns and made his golden hair almost appear silver. Those wolfish eyes, however, were darker than the forest around you, devoid of light. He was beautiful and terrifying – a true horror, but all that did was deepen your desire. Satan gave you but a brief moment to admire him before he buried his face in your neck.

A whimper escaped your mouth. He was so close to your throat, and the world fell silent around you. Every sound you made graced his ears with perfect clarity, but the embarrassment of being heard couldn’t stop you. Even as your face burned, you let yourself react, uninhibited – letting him hear every dirty sound and feel every ache and throb of your body.

“I can’t get enough of this tight little hole,” Satan purred. “I lucked out, finding the sluttiest little lamb to use. You already came, but you still have the lust to moan like a desperate whore? Looks like you aren’t so scared anymore.”

“Neither are you,” you smiled and caressed his cheek. He bit your hand – just past the point of subtle pain – and was slow to release you.

Satan pushed one of your legs further up in an attempt to thrust right into that spot he knew you adored. He hit it. Repeatedly.

“Keep moaning like a slut for me. I’m going to mark your insides and breed you, got it?”

Your only response was pitiful whining and scratching down his back.

“That’s it. Take it all for me, okay?” He released into you, fucking his cum deeper for a few strokes before he pulled out with a chuckle. “Fuck, that was hotter than I expected it to be.”

He rolled over to stare up at the tree canopy with you, held your hand, and asked, “Did I do okay? You’re not in pain or anything, are you?”

You mustered all of your remaining energy to sit up and crawl over him, straddling his chest. He was slightly aroused again to have you so close to his face. When you stared down at him, your shadow obscured him from the light, but you could still see every feature of his beautiful face, flushed and content. As beautiful as he appeared, the image of you against the stars, moonlight hitting your back and creating a halo, was breathtaking. You both soaked in it until your breath calmed.

Unfortunately, the realization that Satan had ruined your clothes found you soon after. He couldn’t sneak you back into the house looking like that. If anyone happened to be up and he got caught, his brothers would try to keep him away from you entirely – especially with how much he had scratched up your thighs and marked your neck. Even your knees were dark and dirty.

Luckily, his sense came back to him. You could just teleport. He put his clothes back on and grabbed your shredded clothes (which he would properly dispose of and replace at a later date) before he teleported you both to the bathroom, shielding you against the wall with his body in case anyone happened to be in there. With the bathroom clear, Satan guided you to one of the chairs and encouraged you to sit. He promised to return with clothes and take care of everything. “Just stay put.”

When he returned, he kneeled next to you with a first aid kit and checked your body for scrapes and bruises.

He was quite pleased with himself when he found very few injuries – and certainly nothing of note. Soap and water would clean you up just fine. Satan ran the shower and stripped down while he waited for the water to heat up. When it was ready, he led you into the shower.

Satan gently scrubbed your skin. You didn’t object to him washing you, and even if you had, Satan would have insisted. As he washed, you noticed he would excessively graze sensitive areas on your body just to watch your reaction. His eyes were fixed on your body like he was reading a captivating book. Somehow, you felt more exposed than you were outside.

Once you were clean, Satan helped you rinse off before he started scrubbing himself. Without his wandering hands and lingering touch to cloud your mind, you noticed that he was hard again. The embarrassment – along with the comforting warmth of the shower – left you paralyzed in place. Were you supposed to stay in there while he finished? Should you help him? Should you get dried off? Well, maybe you could at least give him some privacy.

You turned your back to him. Ignoring his erection became impossible when Satan shyly encircled his arms around you and pulled you against him, creating the sound of a brief wet slap between skin. He hummed as the water ran down both of your bodies. “You’re not trying to escape me, are you?”

“No,” you reassured him.

“Good.” He smiled and placed a chaste kiss on your neck – a confusing reaction considering it was juxtaposed with him twitching against you. In a honey-seeped tone, he called your name like a question, “MC?”

“Yes?”

“Could we try that again sometime? Maybe we could even switch if you want.” He was blushing – his cheeks red, and not from the hot water, either. He had melted back into his sweet, soft Satan side. The problem was that this side hadn’t quite had its fill of you yet. Satan wondered if he could squeeze one more round out of you in that bathroom, fucking you slow and lovingly, until your voice was reverberating off the walls.

#ask #anon #requests #satan #gn!mc #spice tier #obey me #obey me satan #satan x mc #satan smut #obey me smut #satan x reader #Dom Satan did something unspeakable to me which I did not expect. #I just hoped I lucked out and this anon has a bit of a degradation kink...

[joelsmochi]

Joel Miller — You Poor Thing

i saw his fingers in this gif and diED so enjoy this

**gif not mine

Part 2 to There You Go [can be read as a standalone, p1 is not crucial to this!]

a/n: this is dirtyyy bc i love you smut sluts & i want to feed into ur dirty desires hehehe. also there’s more spacing than normal between paragraphs bc i’m not editing on my computer, so i hope it’s not an issue!! ok i’ll let you read now ♡ enjoy :)

warnings: smut (minors dni), rough + light fingering, fluffy!joel, squirting (sorry guys it's just so fun to write about hehe), dirty talk, praise, slight (?) degradation, overstimulation, male ejaculation, cursing duh, multiple orgasms, narrator slightly objectifying herself :)))) lots of pet names & quite a bit of “good girls”

wc: 3k

My eyes flutter open when I feel fingers tracing the side of my face and though my first instinct is to move away from the body beneath me I smell the familiar scent of Joel and calm down. I look up at him and watch a smile spread across his face.

“Mornin’, pretty girl,” he gruffly says while still tracing my skin. “How’d you sleep?”

I plant a soft kiss on his clothed shoulder and sit up a little bit. His eyes are wider than usual and his normally flat cheekbones are poking high and bright, a sheer layer of red coating them.

“I slept fine. Why didn’t you wake me up for second watch, asshole?” I poke his arm and reach behind his head to take a drink of his water.

“Well, I shook you a couple of times, but you just pushed my face away and held me tighter,” he laughs.

“Mmm, you didn’t shake me hard enough then because I wake up easy as a lemon squeeze.”

“No, I didn’t try that hard to wake you up… You looked like you could use the sleep the way I wore you out yesterday,” he teases with a smug grin, his eyes still wide like he is in awe of me.

“Fuck off,” I chuckle. “Your ass woulda been wore out had you not been so damn stubborn, not letting me do any of the work.”

“Don’t act like it upset you… Being cared for.”

“It didn’t upset me… Just means I have to outdo you now.”

Joel lets out a belly laugh and I sit up completely. I stare at his salt and pepper beard while his eyes trail down to my blue tank top, and he looks up at me as if to ask permission but without waiting for an answer his hand rests on my ribcage and his thumb flattens over my perky nipple. I sharply inhale and my lips part wide enough to let his cock in if he wanted, Lord knows I do.

“This okay?” He asks softly.

I only nod, afraid that if I speak my voice will crack from how tense my body is getting.

“Yeah?” He whispers, kissing my shoulder before moving from the side of me to sit up behind me. “Come sit between my legs, baby.” I listen to his instructions and press my back to his chest, earning a kiss on my cheek from his supple lips. “You know… You really shouldn’t sleep half naked…“

“Because of danger?” I sarcastically tease.

“That too… But if I were to wake you up last night it wouldn’t have been for watch.” His hands roam around my chest and stomach roughly and his cock begins pressing against the small of my back. I try to reach for it but his grip remains firm on me as he whispers, “Let me take care of you again, baby girl.”

I choose not to argue out of being mentally drained from how much sleep I got. I figure I’d need the mental stamina later on.

“Can you take your panties off for me?” Joel coos against the lining of my ear, softly nibbling on it as I obey him. “Mmkay, now spread your legs for me. Good girl.”

He loops his legs through my open ones to ensure I can’t close them and his feverish hand spreads across the peak of my tummy, inching towards my throbbing vulva which is definitely soaking the blanket beneath us. He sucks hard on the curve of my neck making me ache to turn around and ride him then and there, but his “good girl” keeps replaying in my head and I’d do anything to hear him say it again. Even if it means depriving myself of pleasure for just a little longer.

“Soft or hard?” He asks gently, almost as if he were afraid his words would break me.

I hum and throw my head back to his broad shoulder. “Why not both?” I flirt.

His eyelashes tickle my jaw from his blinking and he skips his hand past my clit to curl over inside of me. I cry out his name instantaneously, feeling his smooth fingertips press against my swollen g-spot every few seconds. With my nails digging into his hairy thighs and my legs squeezing around his calves, I look at him. I don’t know what I’m looking for but when I find his eyes narrow and lustful I can’t resist turning my head and slipping my tongue into his wet mouth.

His thick digits slip out of me to spread my soaked lips; he drags the buds of his fingers up and down the inside of my folds, shoving his tongue deeper into my mouth and drinking every moan I let out. His fingers spread to either side of my clit giving me goosebumps and his other hand snakes its way to fondle one of my breasts over my top. I lean my back into his hard cock to give him some tension release and he pulls his head up from mine to watch me as he begins his work.

He watches my eyebrows furrow when he starts to rub little circles over my swollen clit. He watches my eyes squeeze shut and open wide. He watches my throat swallow at how good he’s making me feel. He watches my heaving body fight the grip he has on mine.

He watches me like I’m his favorite movie.

He couldn’t have been rubbing my clit any longer than five minutes when my knees tighten against his legs when my climax swims through my stomach and swallows me whole. Neither of us had words, I just paw at his arms and trust his body to hold all of my weight. His breaths pour over my neck and he chooses to be gentle and slowly ease up on me so that I can have a full orgasm without the overstimulation.

Joel takes a few moments while I catch my breath to rub his calloused palms around my thighs and belly, sharing a few more kisses with me.

I open my eyes softly to smile as I give him a butterfly kiss which he took as an invitation to shove his fingers inside of me again; I focus on how it feels to have his fingers reach as far as the angle would let him, noting how it stung a bit being stretched out by just two of his fingers but feels so sweet at the same time. I let out a high-pitched moan when he rubs tiny circles on my g-spot, occasionally pushing it up.

His free arm wraps itself above my chest and squeezes me in closer to his big frame before asking, “That feel good?”

“Mm-hmm,” is all my body would let me say.

He pulls his fingers out, lands a firm smack on my clit, and then inserts his fingers inside of me again. My eyes screw shut at the mix of pain and pleasure and my chest heaves from my deep gasps. He grunts and starts to finger me so fast I could barely process when his fingers were actually moving. I watch him drill in and out of my sore pussy, grimacing at how overwhelmingly hard he’s fucking me with his perfect hands.

“You like that?” He whispers against the back of my head. “You’re such a good girl. You get so wet for me. You want daddy a’take care a’you? Hmm?” My thighs tremble at his filthy words, more so at his repetition of good girl. I dig my nails into his skin, waiting for ecstasy to engulf me again. “My pretty girl giving all of her sweet cum to me? That’s my girl.” There’s something about the way he talks to me that sounds…different. He speaks with certainty, but his tone is still asking for permission from my body.

The cocky son of a bitch knows the effect he has on me and could use my obedience to only please himself, but instead, he just gives me that sappy little look with his heavy eyes like he doesn’t suspect a thing about the way I feel for him.

He likes to pay attention to me and every muscle I move, hoping to read me like a book. Somehow he can tell that my leg is locking up from another orgasm rising as opposed to being uncomfortable. That’s what I love about Joel: how even on his darkest days he still managed to find enough light for me. He never forgets about me, and how to tend to my needs, and I’m noticing the same applies especially during sex.

“J—oh, fuck… Joel,” I stutter.

“What is it, doll? Talk to me.”

“I’m gonn—oh! I’m gonna cum f—for you.”

Joel nods against my damp head, somehow keeping the speed of his arm up. “Show me how pretty that cum is,” he grunts. “Fuck. You take it so good, sweetheart.”

While squeezing his thighs my back painfully arches off of him and I am just waiting, craving that final rub that sends me to the calmest parts of my mind.

Suddenly all of the tension that mounted inside of me explodes. I cry out his name as if it was my dying breath and his fingers keep reaching into me for more of my juices. He slides his digits as far up as they could go before curling them against my sweet spot, trying to gain as much depth as my body would allow.

“I can’t! I c-an’t, Jo—Joel!” I beg. My arms and legs fight him, but he remains as still as a mountain against me. “Please, Joel, I can’t take anymore!” The passion and pleasure turn into just aching, but he doesn’t give up despite my pleas. I close my eyes just when he speaks up again.

“Just a little longer, it’ll feel good again, I promise.” He pecks my cheek and rubs my chest to calm my breath. “I know you got it in you, doll, just need you to relax.”

“It’s too much,” I breathe out tiredly. The pain inside of me subsides, but from where his fingers are curving there is this wave of shocks rising to the surface of my clit. Pressure increases in my pelvis as his pace slows but his force strengthens. I wipe some of the sweat off of my forehead and slightly adjust my body against his; I wonder how he knows exactly what to do and how to do it. I couldn’t even begin to know how to make myself feel this on edge to where the pain was worth it, but Joel did it effortlessly. He knows the inside of me better than myself and knows how to make me crave the pain because with him I know it’ll always be worth it.

“I want you to cum for me again, baby,” he desperately begs while taking his other hand to rub large circles on my clit, “give me that pretty pussy. I need you to cum for me again. Don’t hold back. Just give it all to me, mmm, fuck, give it all. To. Me.”

I fold, caving my body to him and shuddering at the love taps he gives inside of me. His movements send shivers up my spine and then back down like a seesaw.

I hear my pussy squelch around his thick fingers and a gush of water makes my eyes pop open to see what it was, but I felt it before I saw it; his pads looping around my clit paired with his fingers inside of me had built up so much more than just cum.

Once he sees me squirting himself he lays all four of his fingers flat and taut, rubbing side to side over the bud to get my stream to splash everywhere — and I mean everywhere. I managed enough squirt to cover both of our legs and the blanket beneath us. I can’t even feel his fingers anymore as my body slowly numbs itself, but my orgasm wouldn’t stop which made me sink further into the bed and I ended up squirting all over my chest and face. I flinch and close my eyes, repeatedly smacking his arm to tell him I tap out once tears leave my eyes from the overwhelming state my body is currently in. I scream at an embarrassingly high volume but he doesn’t seem to mind. No, he loves it.

He laughs loudly and removes his fingers from inside of me, but not the ones on top of me. His rubbing slows down as does my gushing, but a little bit still comes out in short intervals. My hair is glued to my forehead and cheeks and my eyelids are stuck halfway down my pupils.

After a few more seconds he completely lets my core breathe, using his stocky hands to carefully push my hair from my face so that he could admire his work. I take a few seconds to breathe and twist my face to look up at him, and my goodness does he look happy to see me like this. He beams down at me before placing a smooch on my upper lip.

“You did so good, baby doll.”

“You got me all wet,” I pout wiping my lips dry.

Nodding shamelessly his hand finds its way back to my clit. “Lemme get one more outta you, just look at me, baby girl, mmkay?”

I suck on my bottom lip nervously and wrap my arm around his neck. “Mhm, anything you say,” I hum. To be honest I’m too tired to argue with him, and I love how he has his way with me. “I’ll do anything for you, Joel.”

He presses his fingers to my swollen clit, dragging them down to my opening and slowly pushing inside of me. He rigs his fingers to explore the forgotten parts of me craving to memorize every ridge along my walls. I gasp when his middle fingers reach past my sweet spot, clenching tight enough around him to hear more of my cum squish out of me.

“Such a pretty girl,” he moans, gasping with me when he slides against a curve inside of me.

His bushy eyebrows pinch together tightly at the sight of me curling up in his arms. I manage to move one of my outstretched legs back to the center of his legs, opting to hold it up by my head for comfort. He continues exploring my peaks and valleys, calling me all sorts of pretty names.

“Your fingers feel so good,” I coo, maintaining eye contact with him.

He tilts his head up in admiration and rewards me by touching me where I needed him the most. “You look so pretty when you cum, mnh,” he grunts. I feel his cock pressing against my back again, throbbing hard against his zipper. “I love feeling you squeeze around my fingers, you do so well for me, you love it don’t you?”

I give him a desperate nod, pushing myself harder against his warm strain. “I fucking love the way you fuck me, Joel.”

“Yeah?”

“I love the way you take care of me.”

He watches my needy body spasm for him, practically drooling over me. “You came all over yourself just for me?” I nod at his question. “Look at you… All wet and soaked for me,” he says before pausing to remove his fingers and squeeze my cheeks in his cum-covered hand. “You crying from how hard I made you cum?” He says like he was pretending to feel bad for me. “Awe you crying for me? …You poor thing.”

The way he shook my head a little when he said that—you poor thing—I can’t even compare this feeling to anything in this entire fucking world. My chest rises and falls harder than ever at his borderline degradation, and again I obnoxiously whine at his fingers entering me again. With another climax rising, his raspy voice whispering in my ear, and his throbbing cock aching beneath me, I couldn’t help but let the feeling consume me again.

“Mnh-mnh, look at me, baby,” he tells me; I open my eyes back up and watch the muscles in his face relax and then tense up again. “Look at me when you cum. I need you to cum for me again.”

I hiss when his pace quickens, leaving me feeling so stuffed with his fingers I couldn’t even make a single noise from how good it feels. I feel my orgasm finally explode and he does me a favor by continuing to talk.

His wet lips press to my cum-soaked face and he whimpers again my skin. “You poor little thing. You’re so fucking helpless right now, look at’cha.” His lips form an ‘o’ when a moan finally escapes my mouth. “You look so pretty… Cumming ‘round my fingers like that. Mm, I feel you cumming, princess, just give it all to me. Give it all to me.”

My walls push against his fingers as my discharge pours out of me. I feel so lightheaded from all the orgasms he’s given me back to back and my vision is hazy. I feel him smile against me, moaning when he spread my slit open before rubbing a few gentle circles on my clit.

I hear him whisper a few curse words as though he were troubled, so I peer my eyes open and look at him. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just…”

I feel his cock throb harder than before against my back and I smile once I realize what happened.

“Don’t—“

“You came in your pants?!” I tease, laughing boastfully.

“Yeah, well you pissed on yourself,” he mumbles begrudgingly.

“Only a little.”

He watches me blow some dripping liquid off of my face, smirking as it continues dripping down my chin. “Mhm.” He gives me a sweet kiss and helps me stand up. I stretch my legs out and let him peel off my shirt before handing me a rag to wipe myself clean. “You look beautiful today.”

I scoff. “You’re just saying that.”

“No… I’m not.” He gives me one of his shirts and lays me back down, kneeling in front of my tired face.

I snicker and giggle like a child. “Can’t believe I made you cum without even touching you.”

“Shut up.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff

[queenhunter102]

Part 11

(Part 10) (PART 12)

Then came a knock at the door, followed by a collective groan, loud and annoyed, “I swear by the moon, that you will tell us your little secret” Johnny said, as he walked to the door opening it a crack. You smiled, glad for the interruption not wishing to be isolated so soon, not sure if you could take another pack icing you out, you had hardly had any time to enjoy having a pack before you were iced out. Your nose twitched at the smell of another alpha, the hair on your skin rising and your skin prickling, when you heard the offending alpha’s voice “I want your superior officer” the voice said, as the intruding alpha pushed the door, forcing his energy into your space without ever stepping foot inside, it both pissed you off and frightened you. John tensed as he turned his head to the offending Alpha, “Why? They haven’t done anything, it was your man who stepped out of line, Captain Wells” he said, as he slowly crept his way in front of you, shielding you from the Alpha’s view. “The little breeder hurt one of my men” Captain Wells gritted out, you cringed when he called you a breeder, the word sounding like venom to your ears. “They only defended themselves, they have every right to do so since the OFARC was introduced in 2006,” John said, as he casually crossed his arms, trying to make himself appear larger. Captain Wells growled, “Not on Military ground, we have rules stat-” he cut off by Gaz “ORO, subsection D paragraph 2 Line three ORO allows Omegas to assert their autonomy against unwanted Alpha interactions, ensuring their safety and dignity. And encourages them to defend themselves from aggression or coercion” He says, not looking at the Alpha only at you his eyes scanning over your body. You like Gaz, he was a sweet alpha, a kind alpha, and he knew to check in on you in situations like this, to make sure you were ok, the growl from Captain Wells snapped you back to the danger you were in. “We have rules for a reason, so mutts like that don’t get in between us” Captain Wells spits, as he takes a step into the room, the resounding growl he received was deafening, as you pulled away from the sound that seemed to be coming from the very walls you leaned against.

John raised his hand into the air before closing it into a tight fist, you could hear him grit his teeth in anger as he spoke “This is an omega sanctuary why are you trying to get inside” he said half growling, you peaked over his burly body to look at Captain Wells, his left being the only one inside you little barrack, your little den. “Omega’s don’t aren’t rewarded with sanctuary, especially little shits like them who think it’s ok to hurt those purer than them,” he said as he lunged for you. You were faster, lunging for him as you used your pitiful body weight against his far larger and far stronger one, it wasn’t the best fight, with you pinned under him, doing your damndest to reign in several punches, your NBOC training kicking in, as you block the majority of his punches. You hear, arguing and growls, while you give as good as you get, it wasn’t long until you heard more arguing and more growls, and the sound of flesh hitting flesh, a sound you didn’t want to hear again not at least for some time came crashing into your ears. You managed to find your way on top of Captain Wells, giving you a chance to see two other Alphas in your space one had Alejandro pinned to a wall while Simon was trying to pull him off, and John was pinned to the wall the intruding Alpha’s back to his chest while Johnny and Gaz took turns punching him, you gasped as Captain Wells had grasped your throat in his tight grip squeezing it. You panic from the sudden loss of air, your hands reaching up and clawing at his hand instead, trying to pry his fingers off your throat you try and produce a growl, a whine something anything, that would get your teammate's attention but Captain Wells was squeezing too hard. He brought you close to his face, “Now lookie here if the big tough omega, isn’t reduced to snivelling, snotting bitch” he spat, in your haze of panic you claw his face, he yelled as he let go, allowing you the chance to scramble backwards, your hand grasped your throat, it now marked from his grip. You slide away from him, finding a spot under one of the beds sliding under it, you hear a growl and then a body hitting a wall before it slides down, you watch their legs and boots, and you yelp when a hand grabs your hair dragging you from under the bed. You twist in their grasp your hands trying to find purchase on something, hell you’d take a pillow if it meant putting distance between you and your attacker, Captain Wells growled as he pulled you up to his face level. “Pathetic, really the MI5 sent you here” He growled as he punched you, your head not giving much room to reel back from his hit.

It wasn’t long before he dragged you further along the floor as you scrambled to scratch him, he laughed as he moved towards the door, “Drop them James” John growled as he threw the younger Alpha to the floor. “Why? They’re pathetic, weak even” he said shaking you as you clawed at his hand, “Drop them, James, I won’t ask again” John said, as he stood standing between you and the door.

Captain Wells, growls and grits his teeth as he shakes you again for a final time before he throws to John’s feet, “I don’t get why we breed with such mutts” he says as he gives you a final kick to the stomach. As he steps over you laughing at the grunt you made, John grabs Captain Wells, hauling him over you completely, bringing him close to his face, “Listen here James, they didn’t do shit wrong, they defended themselves from shitbags like you” he grunted as he threw Captain Wells out. Followed by Captain Wells's two henchmen, the curtsey of Simon and Gaz, John huffed as he turned to you eyeing where you lay on the floor.

Taglist: @astro-ghoul9, @prettykinkysoul, @ssc7514

(If you want to be a part of my tag list, check HERE for specifics)

#captain price x reader #ghost riley #captain price #cod mw22 #cod smut #johnny mactavish x reader #cod cod mw22 cod x reader o/b/a #cod story #john price #konig smut #cod #gaz x reader #price #Captian Price #Captain Price x Reader #Ghost #Ghost x reader #Simon Riley #Simon Riley x Reader #Soap #johnny mactavish #gaz #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #o/b/a #soap #ghost #simon riley x reader #Captain Price x reader #captain Price

[getfuckedblr]

here’s my guide to making typesets! I use Word to make my typesets, Canva for designs, and Adobe to insert the majority of my designs.

this is a ton of info and I tried to make it as readable as possible, but plz let me know if u need any clarification!

Word: always use the app, the online program doesn't have all of the options needed

paper size: US Letter Borderless

then i flip it landscape, do custom borders, and select book fold. I do 1 inch on top and bottom, .75 in inside, and .5 in outside. i leave the gutter option alone and leave it set to 0. You can choose how large you want your signatures to be (sheets in booklet option on the margins page): I normally do 40 page signatures, but if it's a smaller text you'll want to go smaller for stability. after that, you should have a half page to start your typeset!

Inserting your fic:

the next thing you’ll do is insert your fic; on ao3 click entire story, CTRL A to select all, CTRL C to copy it all. Paste it into your document. word automatically detects the headings, and you should be able to see all your chapters on the left side bar (if you can’t see it, click the page numbers on the bottom left to open the tab).

Formatting:

you can do the next few steps in any order, but we’re going to fix the formatting now. you’ll want to CTRL A everything, pick a font and a font size. I normally use georgia and size 10, going smaller or larger depending on the file size.

To have an indent on every line: CTRL A your work to select all, right click the “normal” style, on the home tab. go to the bottom left, open the drop-down menu, and select “paragraph”. next to special, hit first line. i like to do .3, you can do whatever you want. i then like to make sure the space after is set to 0, the line spacing to single, and then hit save. it should automatically adjust your lines to start at whatever indent you picked.

To fix the spacing: go into the layout tab, and go to spacing. There'll be a before and after option: write in 0, then click enter for both of them. Word is a little bit bitchy so you have to force it do things sometimes. after this you can choose if you want single spacing, or 1.5, or whatever you want.

*sometimes, the way the fic was formatted when posted to ao3 means that even after setting the line spacing to zero, there will still be a space in between each line. this is where you have to troubleshoot. you can either go line by line to delete the excess space (yes, for real. and yes, it's just as awful as it sounds) or, sometimes, not every-time but sometimes, you can highlight the chapter text, go into the home tab on top, click the A with the purple eraser to erase all formatting, and then do all the beginning steps again, and it will get rid of the extra space.*

Now that your format is mostly fixed, delete the archive of our own beta, and anything else you don't want. I normally delete everything up to the title of the work, and leave that for creating my copyright page. Remember to do the same for the end of the work!

Page Breaks and Section Breaks:

the next part is the most crucial. it's how we format both the chapters, but also how we format the headings and footer. this was the part that took me the longest to figure out: it's the page breaks and section breaks. page breaks mark the place where one page ends, and another begins. section breaks will create a new section in your document, so you can break the beginning few pages from the rest of your textblock. This will allow you to insert page numbers that start on page one, instead of at the first page of the document.

I like to go the end of the description, and then click on the first chapter. then I'll add a section break. you can find this in the layout tab, click breaks, and then click section break. so now our section 2 starts with chapter one. After this, add a blank page after the description and before your new section, and then click on the first chapter. (adding a blank page allows for smoother formatting later with headers and footers)

I then go to each chapter, delete the authors notes at the start and end of each chapter, and add a page break at the start of each chapter. i like to use the heading tab on the left to click each chapter, so I know I'm actually starting the new page right where I need to, and other formatting won't delete the page break.

when I create a compilation fic, where I have muitlple fics in one typeset, I use section breaks at the starts of each new fic. this will allow the page numbers to continue, but I can then edit each sectio to change the fic title and the authors name. if you're really fancy, you can do this for each chapter title as well, you would just hve to use a section break for each chapter instead of page break. *Remember to click link to previous to turn it off, so you are only editing that section, and not all the other sections. this can be found in the heading and footer tab on the top, which will automatically open when you click on the heading or footer.*

Adding page numbers, authors name, text name:

To add a page number, I click the footer, which automatically opens the header/footer tab on top. Then, I click page numbers, add page numbers. I turn on different odd and even pages, which is also found in the header/footer tab. you'll have to insert page numbers on both an even and odd age to get them to show up once you click that option. Page one should be an odd page, page two should be an even page. I like to put the page numbers on the outside of the page. Then you'll click format page numbers, click "start at" instead of "continue from previous section", and write in 1. now your typeset starts at 1 on chapter one instead of the start of your document! you'll need to go back and delete the numbers that showed up on the first section, but remember to deselect link to previous before you do that! or you'll end up deleting your page numbers again.

to add text on page numbers:

click into the header/footer again. double click directly on the page number, then start typing. You ca highlight the whole thing to change the font, font seize, etc. I normally do the same size as my text, and I'll either do georgia font or garamond font. I google "copy paste line for text" to get that line dividing the page number from whatever text I have next to it.

to add graphics on an entire work:

you can go into the header or footer, go to the insert tab, and insert a picture. Doing it in the header or footer will ensure it's on every single page that shares that header or footer. I have done this in the past, and find it's cute, but it's also tricky because it needs to be small enough to fit inside the header or footer, and won't really be able to interact with the text because it's different on each page, while the graphic will stay in the same position regardless.

Blank Pages:

you want blank pages at the start and end of your textblock: this is what you'll be glueing your end papers to. even more, you'll want to ensure your total page number is both divisible by 4 (each page of paper will have four pages of your text on it, two to each side) and fits into your signature count. If you're working with a 40 page signature, and you have 420 pages, that's fine. You'll end up having the last signature only be 5 regular pages instead of 10, which is plenty enough to sew. you really just want to try and avoid only having one of two pages in that last signature, as that won't be very strong in holding up your end page, or be very stable in sewing on to your book block.

to make sure they're blank, with no page numbers, you'll want to insert a section break on the last page of text. Deselect link to previous, delete the page numbers and you should be all good!

Printing/Saving:

I'm on a mac. I don't know how you would do this on anything but a mac. let that be a warning lmao. but I will CTRL A everything, ensure it's US Letter Borderless, and then hit print. if you don't tell the document it's the right size, it'll be funky when you go to print because of the margins. to insert images, i click save as pdf. it'll save it in the correct order to print for your signatures, and then I upload it into adobe to edit further. that'll have to be a different post bc this is entirely too long already.

If you want to print directly from here, ensure it's printing the right size, flip on short edge, double sided. and you're all done!

#tips and tricks #typesetting guide #i woke up at 630 am with a purpose and shat this out #it might not even be legible #apologies in advance #how to typeset #bookbinding #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #typesetting #microsoft word #adobe #canva #signature #resource

[kiwanopie]

Top 5 Haters in Haikyuu!!

cw: crack. devious behavior. hating is a craft that these five have mastered

5.) Oikawa

Not as bad as some of the haters on this list because he only Gatekeeps. But that means any restaurants, bars, cool hang out spots, even some of the clothes that he wears; you’d have better luck pulling teeth than getting that information out of him. One time one of his fangirls asked him how he keeps his skin so clear, to which he responded: “just don’t touch it:)” knowing good and well he spends an hour every night steaming, pre-cleaning, and putting vitamin C on his face before laying on his silk sheets. (Because they don’t absorb moisture 😉)

4.)Atsumu

Mostly toward his brother but also applies to some of his everyday life as well. Will laugh if you fall and eat shit in front of him, and then from that point onward will chuckle every time you pass that spot and go “lmao watch out.” Dickhead. And he gatekeeps sometimes. “where’d you get that jacket from?” “oh nah this is the last one. they gave it to me before they closed forever. honestly they probably wouldn’t even sell this to you bro. you don’t really want this jacket fr.”

3.)Suna

Hating’s a lifestyle, really. You not really a hater if you not a little passive about it. Uses the term “That’s crazy…” religiously. One time the power was out at Atsumu’s place during a snowstorm and he responded with a picture of him next to a space heater while on the game with the caption “we good over here tho. this 2k go crazy.” also don’t let me bring up gatekeeping without showing you this interaction between him and Aran:

2.)Sakusa

Atsumu can’t even brag to people that he’s actually heard him laugh without adding the fact that it was because he whiffed a spike and fell into the net mid game. And it’s not that he actually puts effort into being a hater, it’s just that he has this horrible trait that if something is funny enough he will laugh, regardless of the circumstances. It’s just… most of the time that something’s either embarrassing or kind of mean. And it’s not even a haughty laugh - it’s a snort. One time, Bokuto flubbed his lines during a broadcasted interview so bad that in the middle of his stuttering he started to choke on his spit. And while his publicist is praying that this doesn’t get any worse, Sakusa just: “*snort!* fuck. sorry, sorry.”

1.)Tsukishima (duh)

Do I even have to go into detail? Comes from a long line of haters. Akiteru being skipped was only happenstance, he’ll hate enough for the both of them. Actively prays on the downfalls of the people around him, not even his friends are safe. Yamaguchi once ran face first into a glass window and he let out a belly laugh loud enough to scare the birds off. Is physically hurt when his enemies win. Hinata texted him before his big game to celebrate him making it to the olympics and he got a fever. He’s a grade A hater. Professional even. Constantly sending out bad vibes, if something bad happened to you today it was him. It's because he wished for it. And every time he gets more powerful.

one of the words in these paragraphs is improperly spaced and i hope it physically hurts you to see it 😈 anyway reblog for the true haters out there <3

#haikyuu!! #hq #hq crack #hq headcanons #oikawa tooru #atsumu miya #suna rinatro #sakusa kiyoomi #tsukishima kei #hq oikawa #hq atsumu #hq suna #hq sakusa #hq tsukishima #k/oikawa slander #k/suna slander #k/kiyoomi slander #k/tsukishima slander #haikyuu crack #k/atsumu slander #oikawa x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #suna x reader #tsukishima x reader

[narumi-gens]

Never Felt a Feeling Like This

Narumi Gen x f!Reader

summary: For Narumi, it’s love at first sight. For you, it’s boredom.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, meet-ugly, masturbation (m), hinted femdom, switch!narumi (like literally from one paragraph to the next sometimes), budding degradation kink, but also praise kink, spit kink, inappropriate workplace behavior and relationships, mentioned/implied power imbalance (but in name only), dubiously solicited dick pics, narumi is a simp and I'm embarrassed for him and you should be too, narumi’s imagination gets a real workout in this, no bs4s were harmed in the writing of this fic (takes place pre-bs5 release), do not break electronics without proper safety equipment, excessive emoji use (did you know emojis count as words in the word count??)

notes: the kn8!chaos couple's origin story is finally revealed! I'm just happy I was finally able to use a Beyoncé lyric in a title. she released Renaissance because she wanted the kn8!chaos couple to have music to fuck to.

words: 6.3k

part of the Agents of Chaos series

minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not like, reblog, or comment

As the First Division’s Vice-Captain leads you throughout Ariake Maritime Base on a tour of the facilities, you find your interest hanging on by a thread. 

All Defense Force bases are essentially the same — you have your training grounds and rooms, administration offices, barracks, an Operation Room, and mission preparation spaces. So, you’re torn between yawning loudly and pulling out your phone to see if there’s anything else more worthy of your time, which there surely is. 

The only thing stopping you is that this is your first time meeting Vice-Captain Hasegawa and you have just enough awareness to recognize that doing either would probably lead to a poor reaction from the man. There will be plenty of opportunities to test his patience in the weeks, months, and — hopefully — years to come. 

With great effort, you stifle both urges and continue pretending to look like everything Hasegawa is telling you is not going in one ear and out the other. You wish he would just drop you off in the Operation Room so that you could figure out which station and console you wanted to take over. 

Your mind has begun to wander so much that you almost run into him when he comes to a sudden stop in the middle of the hallway. Although considering he’s still talking and is pointedly facing a pair of double doors, the stop might not have seemed as sudden if you had been paying attention. 

“—wanted to warn you,” he sighs and you realize that you’ve missed everything he’s said before. 

But you quickly catch sight of the plaque next to the door that reads, “Narumi Gen, First Division Captain,” and are easily able to piece together what it was that Hasegawa was warning you about.

“Ah, don’t worry, Hasegawa. I knew what I was getting into!” you grin up at him, completely missing the way his eyebrow raises at how casually you’ve addressed him without his proper title. “Captain Ogata made sure of that when he was trying to convince me to take the Head of Operations opening at the Third Division instead.”

Your assurances don’t seem to provide him with any sort of comfort. If anything, his severe expression only deepens.

“Yes, well. We’re a little ahead of schedule for your introductory meeting with Captain Narumi but he should be in,” he says, deciding to move past the unsurprising revelation that the Fourth Division Captain had tried to steer you clear of the chaos at the top of the First. 

He sharply raps his knuckles on one of the grand, wooden doors to announce your presence and opens them both without waiting for a reply. When you see what lies inside of the office, you understand why. 

Your gaze isn’t sure what it should settle on. The piles of dirty clothes? The overflowing garbage cans? The discarded and empty water bottles, cans of coffee, and energy drinks? The precariously stacked Yamazon boxes lining the walls? The reverently displayed and definitely overpriced action figures?

But your eyes are quickly drawn to the lump inside of the futon laid out in the middle of the office and right in front of the large TV, where a first-person shooter game is playing out on the screen. If you listen carefully, you can just make out the muttering coming from the lump in between the sounds of the game’s gunfire.

You tilt your head to the side as you take in the sight. Even if Ogata hadn’t pulled you aside at every opportunity to caution you away from the First Division, Narumi Gen’s reputation was practically legendary among the ranks of the Defense Force — and only partially for his skill in combating kaiju. 

It wasn’t a lie when you told Hasegawa that you knew what you were getting into when you accepted the position as the First Division’s new Head of Operations. However, the chaotic state of Narumi’s office still manages to take you slightly by surprise. 

Somehow, you remain unaware of the way the corners of your lips are slightly tugging upwards in a hint of a smile.

You’re pulled from your musings by the waves of anger that you feel radiating off of Hasegawa, who you had genuinely forgotten was standing next to you. His arms are crossed over his chest and this close to him, you can see the vein on his forehead pulsing. 

“I apologize for your first impression of Captain Narumi,” he grumbles and you can easily tell that this is a common occurrence for the man. “If you’ll give me a minute, I’ll take care of this.”

But before he can march toward the lump, you cut him off. 

“No need! I can handle this,” you tell him genially as you curiously open the Yamazon box on top of the mountain nearest you. You’re unimpressed by the six-pack of energy drinks inside. You note that it’s the same brand as the empty cans strewn across the office floor as you carelessly push the box off the stack, where it falls to the floor with a dull thud. 

You open the next box and pull out a boxed set of some movie series that you’ve never heard of and which has an obnoxious yellow sticker on the front that says, “LIMITED EDITION!” You pout with disinterest and toss it over your shoulder. 

“Are you sure?” Hasegawa asks just as you get ready to move on to the next Yamazon box and you abandon your search through Narumi’s things. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?” you reply, your nose wrinkled slightly in distaste. 

Your admonishment and clear lack of boundaries has a sense of dread creeping up on Hasegawa — one that usually only accompanies a kaiju attack. He’s quick to tamp down any fears that his already-frequent headaches are about to increase, not wanting to tempt whatever higher power might be out there by putting those thoughts into the universe.

The only outward sign of his apprehension is his deepening frown. He responds with a wordless hum. 

Turning away from the Yamazon boxes, you look back to the lump to find that it hasn’t moved once despite the noise and your and Hasegawa’s presence. Glancing at the TV screen, you see that the game is still in progress. 

There’s an obvious solution to this problem. 

The lump is so focused on clearing its virtual mission that it’s easy for you to walk toward the TV, reach behind it, and yank the BS4 plug from the overfilled power strip. The sudden silence from the TV as the console unexpectedly shuts off is met with a screech from the lump, which finally moves to reveal Narumi Gen — captain of the famed First Division and Japan's (supposedly) Strongest Anti-Kaiju Combatant.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” he screams, tossing off the duvet and stumbling to his bare feet. “I was just about to clear the campaign! You just made me lose all of my progress! Who do you think you are?!”

With every shout, he moves closer, his finger pointed at you furiously and his bloodshot eyes practically bulging from his head.

You answer him by grabbing his BS4 from the floor, lifting it over your head, and slamming it back down where it shatters apart. His shriek this time is so loud and shrill that you truly worry for a moment that your ears may begin to bleed. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” he repeats frantically as he collapses to his knees and tries to carefully pick up the hardware now scattered on the floor of his office, his fingers trembling from the trauma of seeing his most precious possession in pieces. 

But he’s too slow for you. You step past him and kneel down beside the BS4’s exposed motherboard. And then, in one smooth motion, you pull a pair of needle-nosed pliers out of the pocket of your lab coat and drive the jaws straight down where it pierces the fragile, green fiberglass. 

You can only describe Narumi’s resulting wail as a widow’s wail for how devastated it sounds. 

When you stand up and look back down at him, you see the shell of a broken man. He’s hunched over on his knees near your feet. The shattered pieces of his BS4 are loosely clutched in his hands. And if you look closely, you can make out the slight shaking of his shoulders. 

“Who are you?” he rasps, his gaze glued to the remains of his beloved console. “How can you be so cruel?”

“I’m the First Division’s new Head of Operations, bitch,” you smirk down at him, your arms crossed over your chest in satisfaction. The revelation seems to catch his attention because his head shoots up to look at you in shock before anger begins to creep in. 

“You? You’re the new Head of Operations?” he seethes, abandoning his BS4’s carcass to slowly stand. His fists are clenched at his sides and the tick in his jaw is visibly noticeable. 

However, you’re already moving on. You close the distance between you so quickly that Narumi’s fury is momentarily forgotten as he instinctively takes a step back only for you to take one forward. 

His stupor grows worse when your hands come up to cup his jaw. Suddenly, all he can focus on is how warm your touch is and how surprisingly pretty you are, your soft features hiding the heartlessness that lurks underneath. 

The reminder shatters his daze and he stumbles backward and away from your caress. He tries to put as much distance between himself and you as he can, only to trip on his futon and wind up sprawled on his back on top of the haphazardly strewn duvet. 

Not wasting an opportunity to get close to him again and without a second’s hesitation, you follow him and plop yourself down to straddle his torso. A flush breaks out across his cheeks and quickly spreads to the tips of his ears that are peeking out through his messy hair. 

The pink grows a deeper red when you sit up, slightly lifting yourself off of him so that you can further lean over him until only a few inches are separating your face from his. The back of his head is already pressed to the futon, leaving him nowhere to go.

His face feels hot under your fingers as you grip his chin firmly enough that he can’t shake you off this time. Although that seems like something you don’t need to worry about as he appears frozen beneath you. You’re vaguely aware of how his own hands slowly and cautiously drop to rest on the tops of your thighs. 

Yet, where Narumi is clearly flustered by the compromising position that you’ve forced him into, the ability to grasp the grossly inappropriate and unprofessional nature of your interaction is beyond you. There’s a purpose to all of this, which makes it incredibly easy for you to ignore the feeling of his fingers nervously twitching through the fabric of your pants. 

With one hand holding his chin, the other comes up to rest the back of your fingers on his cheek and you can feel how doing so makes him somehow even more tense. The wildness in your eyes has something stirring deep inside of him, which is only made worse by how he’s already missing your weight on his stomach.

He suddenly finds himself fighting the overwhelming urge to slide his hands up to your waist and pull you back down to sit on him. It wouldn’t be that hard. You would probably make a small cry of surprise if he did. He can practically hear it ringing in his ears and it goes straight to his cock, which is quickly growing half-hard.

And then it wouldn’t take much more to move you a little further down until you’re placed right on top of the bulge in his sweatpants. He would use his hold on you to grind your ass down while he bucks his hips up. 

His fantasizing takes a different turn when you slowly begin to lean even closer to his face and his wide eyes drop down to your lips. They look so soft and plush. Your tongue peeks out for just a second before disappearing back into your mouth and he wants nothing more than to chase it with his own.

What would your tongue feel like sliding against his? What would it feel like on his fingers? On his cock? 

Your teeth lightly sink into your bottom lip and he’s genuinely surprised that he doesn’t cum on the spot. 

It’s only your grip on his chin that keeps him from lifting his head to close the gap altogether. Thankfully, you seem to be doing so on your own and his eyes flutter shut, his lips parting slightly in anticipation.

But then his left eye is opening back up against his will as your thumb pulls on the skin just under his eyelid while your index finger lifts the area just below his brow. His right eye opens in confusion, trying to understand what’s going on.

He takes in how your gaze is fixed on his left eye, your head tilting back and forth from side to side curiously, and it slowly sinks in that the slightly manic look that you’re wearing has nothing to do with the kiss he was expecting. All of your interest in him seems to be exclusively tied to his scarlet-colored eyes — the eyes crafted from the retina of Kaiju No. 1.

It feels like someone has doused him in cold water at the realization. 

He can feel his dick softening from the disappointment — but only partially. After all, you’re still straddling him and leaning in close enough that he can feel every one of your exhales on his face. 

“So, these are the Future Sight eyes…” you murmur to yourself, switching your attention over to his right eye and giving it the same inspection that the left received. You hum thoughtfully and Narumi scrambles to find something to say, trying to think of anything that has even the slightest chance of impressing you. 

Before he can start to brag about the kaiju with a 7.4 fortitude level that he neutralized with one shot last week, you’re removing your hands from his face entirely and sighing heavily, a pout forming on the lips that he had just been daydreaming about. You lean back and sit up, dropping your weight fully onto his stomach once again.

You absently rest your palms on his chest and he’s struck by the vivid mental image of you doing the exact same thing if you were to ride him. 

The fantasy comes closer to being real when your hands push down for leverage to readjust how you’re seated. Your attempt to find a more comfortable position has you sliding just a little further down his body. His breath catches in his throat when your knees end up on either side of his waist and your ass meets his lap — and the tent in his pants. 

His fingers instinctively grip your thighs tightly as he bites back the deep groan that’s desperately trying to escape his chest. 

He knows you can feel how hard he is. It’s not like it’s something easy to ignore when you’re sitting right on top of it. Yet the only reaction you have is a slight twitch at the corner of your lips that’s so faint anyone else except for him, the captain of the Defense Force’s strongest division, would have missed it. 

And he also notices that it twitched upward. 

For a brief second, he contemplates using his eyes on you. Activating them would allow him to visualize your brain’s signals, indicating your movements before you made them. Maybe then he would have a better idea of what you’re planning to do. It’s probably against some stupid regulation to use the weapons designed to combat kaiju on another member of the Defense Force, but you’re a much more formidable foe.

However, he then feels you shifting slightly as you get ready to move so that his hard cock is no longer poking your ass and he panics. 

His hands dart up to grab your hips and keep you right where you are. Although you don’t cry out in the way that his ears are yearning to hear, your eyes widen just a fraction, betraying your surprise at his action. 

Knowing that his grip is firm enough to keep you from shaking it off, you instead look curiously over your shoulder and down, your back arching as you check if you can see the hardness directly underneath you. It’s the first clear acknowledgment you make of his arousal. 

Anyone else, everyone else, would be frantically trying to explain away the situation — as if there’s a way to explain away an erection that your coworker is sitting on. But Narumi isn’t anyone else and he finds his mind wandering yet again.

All he can focus on is how your arched back pushes your chest forward. Despite the shapeless lab coat that you’re wearing and how it covers the majority of your body, he can still make out the curves of your tits and how they’re perfectly framed by your upper arms on either side.

What would you look like in just your lab coat?

His thumbs twitch where they’re firmly pressed to your hips with the urge to slip them under the hem of your shirt and feel the warmth of your bare skin directly. If he did, he could easily slide them, and your shirt, up. Once he had it high enough, he could then curl one finger into the front of your bra and pull it down until your tits were spilling from its cups. 

And then all he would have to do is lean up and he could capture a nipple between his wet lips. He could then wind his arms around you beneath your lab coat to splay one hand across the arch in your back, pressing you further into his mouth. By this point, your hands would have moved from his chest to his shoulders where they would be fisting the fabric of his shirt.

He can hear your phantom cries of pleasure in his ears again as his dick starts to ache. 

The bubble bursts when you face forward, your back now hunched over rather than arched. You look deeply unimpressed. Narumi is suddenly and viscerally aware of the thin stream of drool that’s slowly trailing from the corner of his lip and down his jaw where it then meets his neck. 

You notice it as well and lift a hand up to casually wipe his spit away with the pad of your thumb. His mouth opens on its own, instinctively wanting you to slip the spit-slicked digit inside. 

Somehow, the action has you looking even further unimpressed. Rather than sticking it past his parted lips, you wipe your finger clean on the front of his shirt. 

When you meet his gaze, the disinterest that he can see in your eyes and in your expression is crippling. Every fantasy that has been playing out in his head over the past few minutes shatters and comes crashing down around him. 

“Hm, I didn’t think the wielder of the oldest numbered weapon would be so boring,” you finally say with a frown.

His open mouth closes before opening again, only to close and then repeat the cycle as he finds himself unable to respond. His reaction doesn’t help his case.

“...b-boring…?” he repeats, seemingly incapable of understanding the meaning of the word. 

You slap away his hands from your hips and he’s so dazed that he lets you. The insult slowly starts to sink in and his growing indignation soon eclipses every last ounce of arousal.

“Boring?” he angrily cries out and you simply roll your eyes as you stand up. This time when you move off of him, he’s too outraged to miss your weight and warmth. 

“Yes. You bore me,” you tell him pointedly, your hands on your hips as you look down at him where he lays on his back between your feet. He gets the sense that this is exactly how you would be looking at a worm that you saw on the sidewalk before trampling it.

“W-well, if I’m so boring why’d you end up with the First anyway?” he retorts with a glare as he finally sits up. “You’re here because you wanted to be in the presence of Japan’s strongest!”

Your features wrinkle in distaste at the sentiment. 

“You wish,” you scoff as you step off of his futon and take a moment to examine your nails. “The First Division’s base is on the bay and the Third’s by a river. The ocean is way nicer. Simple as that.”

He can only gape up at you, speechless once more. 

You made the biggest decision of your career based on the base’s proximity to the ocean rather than the strength and prestige of the division. A life-changing decision, and you made it on something as superficial as preferring the ocean to a river.

There was no rational thinking involved. There were no thoughtful considerations made. Other than consulting Google Maps, there was no careful research done. 

A decision that you would have to live with for years and you made it based on something as trivial as a body of water.

Simple as that.

Narumi’s heart starts to race and his face grows warm. His palms suddenly feel sweaty and he’s hyper-aware of an unfamiliar fluttering in his stomach. A wide grin slowly stretches across his face.

Before you can walk away, he grabs your ankle.

“Wait! What’s your name?” he asks eagerly. You just smirk down at him and shake off his hand with a kick of your leg before walking away and out of his office without a second glance back at him. 

As he watches you leave, he wonders if the irises of his eyes — which usually morph into crosses when being used as the weapon they are — have now taken the shape of hearts.

He’s ready to collapse back into his futon with an infatuated sigh. He still has the tent in his sweatpants to deal with after all and if anything, it’s only gotten harder. 

But before he can, he catches sight of Hasegawa, who’s standing stoically by the doors of his office. He wonders if the man has been there the whole time and if so, why he didn’t put a stop to the chaos that just played out before him as he’s normally quick to do.

He vaguely notes that his Vice-Captain looks like he does whenever they’re en route to a kaiju attack and he’s reviewing the information available to assess the threat as best he can before engaging. Determination then crosses his severe features, as if he’s steeling himself for some upcoming battle.

The man appears about to take his leave, but Narumi recognizes that he can’t let his only other source on your identity just walk away.

“Hasegawa! Hey, Hasegawa!” Narumi cries out as he sits up on his knees. 

“Yes?” he replies stiffly, steeling himself for whatever is coming.

“Is she single?” He hungrily points in the direction you just went, like there’s any doubt about who the “she” in question is. 

Hasegawa’s entire demeanor abruptly turns icy. His arms slowly cross over his chest — usually a sign that a physical assault is imminent.  

“I’ll remind you, Captain, that the Defense Force highly discourages fraternization between enlisted personnel,” he says. Despite the lack of violence that accompanies the warning, it’s the most threatening that Hasegawa has ever sounded when reprimanding Narumi. 

But all Narumi can think about is how hard he still is and the memory of both your disinterest and your body on top of his as you straddled him. 

“Discourages is not forbids,” he smirks with all of the smugness of someone who believes that he’s found the greatest loophole in the history of mankind. 

Hasegawa’s scarred features contort into a grimace at Narumi’s easy disregard for the admonishment that he just received. Deciding that the best course of action would be to conserve his energy for the fight that he can see on the horizon, he drops his arms to his sides and walks away from his captain. 

“Wait! Tell me her name!” Narumi shouts as he desperately begins to crawl after him. 

Hasegawa suppresses the urge to slap a palm to his forehead in exasperation. He looks over his shoulder at the pathetic sight of the man known across the country as Japan’s strongest on his hands and knees, begging for just a crumb of information. 

“If you regularly checked your email as is your responsibility as First Division Captain, you wouldn’t need to ask,” he scolds him and with Narumi sufficiently distracted, Hasegawa is finally able to escape, closing the doors to the office with a loud slam!

Meanwhile, Narumi scrambles back to his futon to dig through it for his phone. When he finally finds it, it slips out of his grasp due to how sweaty his palms are. It takes a few tries but with fingers that are trembling with excitement, he’s able to unlock his phone and pull up his email.

He frowns in annoyance at the sheer volume of unread messages. As he starts to scroll through them, his eyes hurriedly skimming through the subject lines of each one, he soon realizes that this is like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Doing a quick search for “Head of Operations” pulls up an unopened thread titled, “[URGENT] Start Date: Head of Operations, First Division.” He finds what he’s looking for when he opens it and sees that the latest email is from you, your name appearing in the “from” line.

He slowly says your name aloud, testing it out. He likes the way it tastes on his tongue.

He wonders if your pussy will taste even better when he gets you to sit on his face. 

As he skims the email thread for any further information he can glean, he notices that your responses to the information on your promotion and new assignment are largely in emojis. You seem to have a particular fondness for the red 100 emoji. 

With a contented sigh, he collapses back into his futon. His phone is clutched tightly to his chest and an adoring smile is painted across his lips. 

Rolling over onto his stomach, he rests his chin on a curled fist and returns to his email. Now that he has your name, he happily kicks his feet back and forth in the air and does another search through his inbox for it. He strikes gold when he finds your personnel file attached to a months-old, unopened email. 

But he doesn’t get far in reading through it because at the top of the file, just beneath your name, is your phone number. As soon as he sees it, he saves it in his contacts under: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦.

His fingers fly across the screen as he then drafts a new message to you and quickly hits send.

From: Narumi Gen Hey! Go out with me 🙏

He watches the message thread with unblinking eyes, eagerly waiting for the three little dots that indicate that you’re typing to appear at the bottom. When they finally do, the anticipation of what you’ll say is enough to have him salivating all over again.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 ????

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Who dis

He frowns slightly. He’s your new captain. Shouldn’t you already have his number saved in your phone? Rather than letting it ruin his giddiness, he seizes the opportunity that he missed earlier to brag. 

From: Narumi Gen JAPAN’S STRONGEST 💪

He smugly waits for your reply. It takes longer this time for the three dots to appear and he’s positive that it’s because you’re too in awe to respond right away. 

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Oh.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 😒

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Captain boring 🥱

Each reply is like an arrow to his heart. The yawning emoji in particular feels like you’ve taken a knife to his gut with a pretty smile on your lips. Desperation quickly takes hold.

From: Narumi Gen Plz go out with me 

From: Narumi Gen Pretty plz? 🙏

From: Narumi Gen Ur so hot. Plz go out with me 🙇‍♂️

From: Narumi Gen I’ll do literally anything to go out with u 😫

His responses are sent in a flurry one right after another. If he had the ability to feel shame, he would be embarrassed by how increasingly pathetic he sounds with each sent message.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Nope 🙅‍♀️

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 This pussy is closed to losers

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 😝

It’s a good thing that he’s already laying down because the one-two punch of being called a loser while also being told that your pussy is off-limits would have had him keeling over. 

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Enjoy taking care of your little problem on your own 🍆✊💦

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Let me know how it goes 😏

He suddenly feels like you’ve breathed new life into him. Does this mean that you’re imagining him jerking off? 

The thought of you thinking of him with his hand pumping his cock has his head spinning. He rolls over onto his back and drops the hand holding his phone by his side as he stares up at the ceiling of his office in a daze. 

Acting almost on its own, his free hand slides down his stomach to slip under the waist of his sweatpants and then the band of his boxer briefs. He can’t help the hiss that escapes him when he wraps his hand around his cock. It’s easy to pretend that it’s your hand that’s pulling it out of his pants instead of his. 

Would you tell him how boring he is even as your hand slowly begins to move up and down his length? Would you be acting like this is a waste of your time? Maybe you’d be jerking him off with one hand and scrolling through your phone with the other. 

His eyes close to aid the fantasy. 

He can hear your voice in his ears, every word dripping with indifference as you tell him to hurry up and cum already so that you can go do something that actually interests you. You would barely even look at him, only glancing at him every so often to check how close he is to finishing. 

When he spits into his hand to help the glide of his palm, he imagines that it’s your hand and remembers how you didn’t shy away from his saliva when you wiped it off of his chin earlier. His fist speeds up its pace as he imagines what it would have looked like if you had popped your thumb into his mouth for him to suck it clean rather than wiping it off on his shirt. 

Or better yet, if you slipped it into your mouth, only removing it once your thumb was free of his spit. 

What would it look like if you spit directly into his mouth? He’s positive that you would purse your lips right over his open and waiting mouth and let your spit delicately drip straight down into it. You wouldn’t let him swallow until you told him that he was allowed to. And then you would reward him with a condescending pat on his cheek and a chaste kiss to his shining lips.

And what if he spits into your mouth? He would have you on your knees for him, lips parted wide open, and tongue stuck out as you waited patiently to taste his cock. He would grab your chin with fingers as firm as yours were on his earlier and just when you began to rub your thighs together, he would spit into your open mouth before making you swallow. 

Would you whine if he told you that you’re a good girl?

He definitely would if you called him a good boy. 

He would whine right into your pussy if you were to tell him how good he was being with his face buried between your thighs, your legs tossed over his shoulders. The words would be broken up between breathless moans as he lapped at your clit, your fingers pulling on his hair to tug his face closer. And he would then start pumping two of his fingers in and out of your pussy, curling them just right, all so that he could hear you say the words again.  

After seeing how little he impresses you, he would give anything for even a scrap of your praise. But he also wants to make you just as desperate for his. 

He wants you sprawled across the top of his messy desk.

He wants you to make it even messier when you cum on his cock as he pounds into you, his balls hitting your ass with each thrust and your ankles dangling by his ears. He’d have your arousal dripping from your pussy and down the crack of your ass to pool on the wooden surface of his fancy desk. 

He’d then slide two of his fingers through the mess before shoving them into your mouth, wordlessly demanding you suck them clean. 

And you would, wouldn’t you?

Because for all of your standoffishness and your seemingly aloof nature, when it comes down to it, you would want to be good for him. 

You would keep his fingers in your mouth until you were gagging on them when he shoved them in deep enough to reach the back of your throat. And even then, you would keep your lips closed around them until he decides to remove them. 

And when he pumps you full of his cum, you would thank him with hazy eyes and an adoring smile. It would mirror the one on his lips when he drops to his knees and pushes open your thighs to watch his cum slowly drip in thick, white gobs out of your sopping pussy to join the growing pool underneath your ass. 

Each mental image that rapidly plays out on the backs of his eyelids pushes him closer and closer to cumming. He can feel the orgasm building in his spine and in his balls, only for his eyes to spring wide open when he remembers your request to keep him updated. 

His phone is still in his sweaty hand, his fingers clutched around it so tightly that if he wasn’t so used to holding his BS4 controller for long periods of time, then they would be aching. He absently sends a silent thank you to whoever invented Face ID because it means he doesn’t have to fumble with a passcode to unlock his phone and pull up the camera. 

As much as it pains him to do so, he pulls his free hand from his weeping cock to yank his shirt up his torso and shove the hem between his teeth. He moans around the fabric when his hand returns back to his cock, giving it a squeeze as he looks down at it through the screen of his phone, trying to angle the camera just right. 

His hand is itching to pick back up its frantic pace up and down his shaft. But he keeps it still just long enough to take a perfectly-framed picture of his hand wrapped around the base of his dick and pre-cum leaking over his fingers. 

He hurriedly hits send and drops his hand holding his phone back to his side. 

However, his hand has only just started moving again when his phone vibrates in the death grip that he has on it. A pathetic, little whine emerges from the back of his throat when he lifts it up and looks at the screen to find that you’ve already replied. 

His toes curl and his hips buck up off the futon as he eagerly opens your message.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOO

That’s all it takes for him to cum with a groan of your name that’s muffled by the shirt hem still shoved in his mouth. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut as his hips give a few jerks, imagining that he’s spilling his cum onto your face instead of into his still-moving hand. 

When he’s finally capable of opening his eyes, he opens the camera on his phone again. With fingers that are tingling from his orgasm, he takes a second picture — this time of his cum-coated fingers and the streaks of white painted across his stomach.

After hitting send, he continues to look at the screen and preens when the three dots almost immediately appear at the bottom. 

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

A wistful sigh leaves him as spits his shirt out of his mouth and clutches his phone close to his chest, which is still rising and falling rapidly as he pants for air.

“So, this is what love is like,” he muses aloud, a dreamy smile stretched across his lips and absolutely certain that his racing heart has nothing to do with jerking off or the sticky mess coating his hand and stomach.

#i am shamelessly begging you to reblog this instead of liking bc i worked v v v hard on this and this fandom is teeny tiny #this fic needs all the help it can get 🙏🏽 #narumi gen #gen narumi #narumi gen x reader #gen narumi x reader #narumi gen smut #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #kn8 #kaiju no. 8 #kaiju no 8 #kn8 smut #kaiju no 8 smut #kaiju no. 8 smut #literally tagging anything and everything under the sun #I JUST WORKED SO HARD ON THIS GUYS and it's the first long thing I've written in 7+ months 😭😭😭😭😭 #kn8!chaos couple #mel writes

[juney-blues]

ever since i made THIS POST a lot of people have been asking for a tutorial, even though in pretty much all of the screenshots i included the specific part of inspect element showing exactly what i edited.

so buckle the fuck up I guess because the tumblr userbase want to find out how to make html pages unusable and who am I to deny you.

get ready for Baby's First HTML and CSS tutorial lmao

ok so first things first we need to go over BASIC HTML

html is made up of these things called "tags" which specify certain parts of the web page, such as

HEADERS (<h1> through <h6> in terms of importance)

PARAGRAPHS (<p>paragraph here</p>)

LINKS (<a href="linkhere"></a>)

BOLDED SECTIONS OF TEXT(<b>bold here</b>)

and a bunch of other stuff,

by default however, specifying all of this just gives us a plain white page with plain black text of varying sizes

that's of course, no fucking good, and sucks shit, so the arbiters of html decided to let us STYLE certain elements, by adding a STYLE parameter to the tag

this can change any number of elements about how things are formatted.

text colour, page colour, font, size, spacing between elements, text alignment, you name it? you can change it!

you might've noticed that, certain elements are nested in other elements

and that any changes that apply to one element, apply to everything included under that element!

how convenient!

anyway this method of styling things by adding a style=" " to their tags is called "in-line style"

i think because the "style" goes "in" the "line"

it's generally ALSO a pain in the ass to style an entire website like this and should be exclusively reserved for small changes that you only want to apply to specific parts of the page.

for any real change in style you want to create a <style> section in your page's header!

this can be used to make changes to how all elements of a type in your page are displayed

or even add new elements with whatever wacky styling you want that can be used with the <div> tag!

wow! isn't css just dandy!

and hell you can even use External CSS™ if you're making multiple pages and want them all to have a consistent theme, by pointing to a .CSS file (which is basically just a <style> header without the <style> tags lmao

ok this is all well and good and very interesting if, say, you're making your own website

*cough*neocities*cough*itsreallycoolandfree*cough*

but you came here because you want to FUCK UP A WEBSITE and make it look STUPID!!

so this is where the transform css property comes in~

you can read up on it HERE if you want the details but basically it allows you to apply mathematical transformations to any html element you want,

all of these fun bastards,

they can be really useful if you're doing some complicated stupid bullshit like me

OR for having fun >:)

if you'll remember, earlier i said that css properties apply to literally everything nested in an element,

and you MIGHT notice, that literally everything in pretty much all html files, is nested in an <html> tag

you can use style=" " or regular css on pretty much ANY html tag,

INCLUDING HTML!

ok ok that was a lot of buildup for something that i could've explained in one or two lines, but i gave you all this fundamental knowledge for a reason,

well, two reasons, go make a neocities

CHAPTER 2: THIS POST HAS CHAPTERS NOW

CSS KEY FRAMES BABYYYY

THESE FUCKERS DON'T WORK AS INLINE STYLING

I HAD TO TEACH YOU HOW CSS WORKED, TO GIVE YOU THE KNOWLEDGE YOU NEED, TO ANIMATE PAGES. TO MAKE THE FUCKERY COMPLETE!!!!

OKAY SO AGAIN READ UP ON THIS IF YOU WANT THE FULLEST POSSIBLE UNDERSTANDING

BUT WHAT KEYFRAMES ALLOW YOU TO DO, IS ANIMATE CSS PROPERTIES

and then make a class, which calls that animation...

and then assign that class. to your html tag.

and then vomit forever

we can do it in 3d too,

the only limit is your imagination... (and how many parameters you want to look up on w3schools and mozilla mdn web docs)

CHAPTER 3: APPLYING IN PRACTICE

ok now the fun thing about all of this, is you can apply it to your blog theme, literally right now

like literally RIGHT now

like step one, make sure you have a custom blog theme enabled in your settings, because that's turned off by default for some reason

step 2: edit theme

step 3: edit html:

step 4: apply knowledge in practice >:)

#juney.txt #html #css #web development #psa #long post

[bonesandthebees]

Hi Bee!

I really admire your work and I'm currently attempting to write my own fic, and I'd love to have some advice on writing stuff.

1) Do you have any tips for writing the beginning of a fic? I cannot figure out how to start writing with a decent sentence. It all falls apart when my fingers go on the keyboard.

2) Do you have any tips for pacing/plot/outlining? I still have barely figured out what pacing is, because I cannot tell when authors are like "oh I don't like this because I rushed the pacing". I literally can't tell most of the time, unless there is not any space to breathe between things that happen.

3) Do you have tips for writing surroundings and the parts of the paragraph that aren't dialogue? Like. How do I naturally fit the description of the area into the fic? And how do I naturally fit extra commentary into a paragraph that has dialogue in it, especially when it isn't the pov character's dialogue?

Again, adore your writing. I feel kind of awkward since I've never done an ask before; idk if there's some kind of etiquette.

Hope you're doing well!

-Royal :)

hi sorry it's taken me a bit to answer this one! I'm more than happy to give some advice!

okay so first off, writing the first line of a fic is borderline torture sometimes. it's so fucking hard. to me though it's kind of like jumping into a cold pool. you can stare at the water thinking about how cold it's going to be and how unsure you are, but then at some point you have to bend your legs and jump before you can overthink it or else you'll never do it. you have to just put something down for the first line.

one method I like employing when I'm really struggling is starting with a line of dialogue. it instantly throws the reader into the scene as they have to try and find out who is talking, what they are talking about, and where everyone is. an example where I used this is in the stars and their children, which opens with a line from tommy "Hey Wil, can you hand me the epli?" this tells us multiple things right off the bat. it establishes a character present in the scene (Wil) and that there's something different about this world from ours (epli—it makes the reader want to know what it is and why it's being handed to the character speaking)

other times I try to either start with a line that describes the setting ("The streets were crowded at this time of day." - everything else has gone wrong), or start with a line that describes the emotions of the pov character ("Lessons were the most unbearable in the afternoon." - under the hanging rose). basically, you're trying to find a way to throw the reader into the scene in one line. it's difficult, but try any of those angles and hopefully you'll think of something that fits. but again, it's jumping into a cold pool. you just have to put something down so you can start. you can always go back and change it later

okay putting the other two under a read more bc it got long

2. okay now pacing. that's a bit more difficult to help with because a lot of pacing is just getting a feel for it. one way is to just think about it logically. say you have two characters that start as strangers and you want to get them to be best friends. you can show them meeting for the first time, but then you often have to show them bonding before they can reach best friend status. there's pacing here both in the literal world of the story, but also in the text itself. you don't want to write them hanging out for a few hours and suddenly decide they're best friends (although ofc there are exceptions to this like if they're little kids bc, well, that is a thing little kids do where they'll declare a kid they just met their best friend), nor do you want to write them meeting for the first time, write a line saying "they hung out every day for the next three weeks until they were best friends" and then just act as though they're besties (again, there are exceptions to this in specific cases). it just feels weird yknow? It doesn't get the reader invested in this relationship because it doesn't feel like it's been earned. it's a similar thing with plot beats. you have to make it feel natural both in the world of the story itself, but also the timing with which you tell the story. like I said though, pacing is really something you just get the hang of naturally with practice. reading published novels will help as well because it'll help you get a sense of what good pacing feels like.

3. ohhhh you've hit a specific issue I had a lot when I was younger. when you have a dialogue scene going on there's a lot of ways you can balance the text outside the dialogue. ofc if the dialogue is going by at rapid speed, you can straight up just do the dialogue lines and you don't even have to specify who's talking if it's clear within the text

Ex:

"You can't come to my nuclear reactor, Tommy," Tubbo sighed.

Tommy scowled. "What the fuck? Why not?"

"Knowing you you'd find a way to cause a nuclear meltdown."

"Would not."

"Would to."

"Would not."

"Would to!"

"So what, you're a bitch who can't handle a little radiation?"

"Oh for fuck's sake-"

see how after the first two lines of dialogue where I established who is talking in which order, I stop using the tags all together? it's still clear who is talking because the dialogue is ping ponging back and forth. it's a fast-paced conversation, so cutting out the tags helps that effect.

but of course this is only the case in a few instances. most of the time, you do need lines outside dialogue not only to establish who is talking, but also to keep the characters present in the scene itself.

you have several options for what to include outside your dialogue. one of my go to's is always character actions.

"Don't you have one of those swimming pools you keep the nuclear shit in?" Tommy asked, leaning against the wall.

Tubbo pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes but before you ask, no, you can't go swimming in it."

there we include the action of tommy leaning against a wall after he asks the question, which is followed by tubbo pinching the bridge of his nose. this lets the reader see exactly what each character is doing, which can also establish the emotions each character is feeling without saying them outright. tommy is comfortable enough with tubbo to annoy him with his questions, which we see by him casually leaning against the wall. tubbo, meanwhile, is annoyed just like tommy wants, which we see by him pinching the bridge of his nose.

characters sitting down, standing up, wringing their hands in front of them, folding their arms over their chest, shrugging, curling their hands into fists, etc. are all examples of character actions you can include to give the reader the ability to picture the scene more accurately

then of course you have thought process and scenery description you can include as well. thought process is just including what your pov character is thinking as the conversation progresses.

"Yes but before you ask, no, you can't go swimming in it."

Tommy huffed and folded his arms over his chest. Tubbo was so fucking boring these days with his 'safety rules'. He'd nearly been nuked before and was fine! A little radiation wasn't going to hurt him.

that right there is a glimpse into what's going on in tommy's head at that moment. he's frustrated with his friend because he thinks he'd be fine swimming in the nuclear pool. it gives us more insight into the pov character and how they're reacting to the conversation at hand.

then for scenery description:

Silence fell over them as Tommy glared at Tubbo. Tubbo glared back, refusing to budge. Around them, the snow coating the ground glittered in the afternoon sunlight. Clouds of breath puffed in front of Tommy's face. An icy breeze wound between the buildings, making goosebumps rise along his arms. He tugged his sleeves down, still not breaking eye contact with his friend.

the conversation falls silent for a moment, so we take a moment to step back from the two characters. we look at the setting around us, which emphasizes the pause in dialogue and makes it feel quiet even to us as the readers. you don't have to restrict your scenery description to moments where a conversation takes a pause, but taking a step back gives a sense of a 'silence' to the reader even if it's brief. another example of this could be,

"Don't bullshit me, Tubbo. Why won't you let me see it?" Tommy asked after several long beats.

Clenching his jaw, Tubbo's eyes flickered to the ground. The snow beneath their boots was muddied. Tommy spotted a dead worm frozen against the hard earth.

Then, Tommy understood.

"You don't trust me anymore."

now let's see this a different way

"Don't bullshit me, Tubbo. Why won't you let me see it?" Tommy asked after several long beats. "You don't trust me anymore."

see how without all that extra description the pause feels much shorter? and with that shorter pause the weight of Tommy's next sentence loses it's emotional impact?

if you want to add scenery description to a dialogue exchange, imagine it like it's a movie. you have two characters that are talking, and suddenly the camera pans away from them to look at the setting around them. why does it do that? what effect does it have on the scene playing out? your words are the camera zooming in and out on the characters. there are a lot of ways you can use this 'camera' to change the rhythm/flow of a scene. you just have to play around with it to figure out how to use it

I hope that's helpful!

#bones writes #ask #royallygray #also sorry for the half-assed clingyduo scene that's not from a fic or anything i just came up with that on the spot while writing this

[triplesilverstar]

One thing Vash doesn't want to wash (but probably should)

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Vash X F!Reader

CW: P in V sex, riding, clothed sex, creampie

Word count: Roughly 1.7K wordsA/N: Part 21 of the series. A chance to relax in a hotel, and you and Vash need to do laundry which isn't out of the ordinary for the two of you since you do go several weeks out in the desert. And while Vash is in the shower, you keep looking at a piece of his clothing that isn’t getting a wash. After a while you find it hard to ignore.

At the sound of running water you glance at it, hanging there, before going back to the book the hotel owner had let you borrow. Barely a paragraph read and you’re looking at it again. Back to the book. Shifting in your underwear since the rest of your clothes was downstairs being washed, the only clean clothes left in the room belonging to Vash. Shaking your head and trying to focus on the book again.

Where you keep re reading the same damn line. Slamming it shut, mind decided, you stand up dropping the book on the mattress and heading towards it. Vash’s coat. You’ve felt the soft fabric between your fingers enough that as of late, your mind has been wandering to what it would feel like wrapped around your form. Fingers ghosting along the pauldron that’s permanently attached to the left arm, fabric folded in such a way that it sits against the metal. 

You realize it’s now or never, because you honestly don’t want Vash to know how much you’ve been curious about his most eye-catching piece of clothing. Pulling it on you laugh softly, it hangs off your shoulders like a child in their parents clothes. You’re not a small person, but you certainly don’t have the broad build that Vash does, carefully hidden beneath his clothes. 

Wearing it you realize how well it does hide his size, and minus the broadness of the shoulders it feels good wrapped around you. Something else begins to invade your senses as you stand there, the smell coming from the fabric. Sunbaked sand on arid winds, used gunpowder, and a hint of citrus, you just aren’t sure what kind. All you do know is, it’s a smell that encompasses everything you associate with Vash. Hearing the bathroom door open you freeze. Shit. You weren’t supposed to still be wearing this, and certainly not in just your underwear. 

A soft chuckle resounds in your ears as he steps into view, towel wrapped around his neck to catch the water droplets, another around his waist. “I was curiou-” he presses two of his fingers to your mouth to silence you, before reaching behind you to pull the hood up over your head. So careful as if he’s touching glass as he runs the damp skin of his hand along your face, looking at you with a look you can only describe as one of adoration. Feeling your heartbeat speeding up inside of your chest. Feeling a little strange, fully encased in the fabric that normally adorns your lover. Removing his hand and reaching onto the table beside the two of you and unfolding his sunglasses and sliding them onto your face with a tenderness you didn’t was possible. 

“You look cute in my clothes” you feel the heat racing up your cheeks, eyes meeting his, which are dancing with mirth. Stepping closer so there’s almost no space between the two of you, leaning down to catch your lips in a tender kiss. 

Well. A kiss that starts out tender, quickly growing more desperate, his damp hands coming to rest on your hips, giving them a squeeze. Your own hands reaching out to touch his chest, fingers dancing along his skin and tracing patterns into the skin and metal. 

Gasping you have to pull away from him, your lungs starting to burn from the lack of oxygen inside of them. Sliding your hands up along his chest, and behind his neck, interlacing them behind his head. Playing with the dripping tresses, always so soft, freshly showered or not. 

Still watching his face, his own hands now sliding up and down your sides, the pupils of his eyes dilated with his desire. Licking his lips “how long before the laundry needs to be turned over?” Voice hoarse as he moves his face closer, running the tip of his nose along your eyebrows, warm breath washing over your face. “I’d say about another half hour based on your shower and the cycle you said you selected.” 

Pressing a kiss to the tip of your own nose before standing to his full height “Good” gripping your hips and picking you up, a show of his strength you don’t often see. Squealing in surprise and wrapping your legs around his towel covered lower half. “I wanna watch you fuck me in my sunglasses and coat.” 

Nipping your lips and neck as he moves you over to the bed, using that strength once more to pull you off his body and dropping you on the mattress, watching you bounce before ripping the towel from his neck and waist. 

Hands hooking the edge of your underwear and pulling them down, tossing them to the top of the table. An easy find for when the two of you finish. “Leave everything else on” his voice dropping an octave as he watches you, giving his cock a few pumps and you’re licking your lips. “I want you to ride me Mayfly.” 

“Then get in bed.” You tease, reaching out and fondling yourself making a show as you moan from your own fingers and toss your head back. Bed dipping as he joins you, settling in the center and tapping his thighs. An invitation you don’t need to be told about twice. Scrambling along his body and laughing as the sleeve of the right arm gets tangled under you. 

Both of you laughing as Vash pulls you onto his body, hands quickly moving to roll up the sleeve somewhat so you can at least touch him without the fabric getting in the way.

Lifting you hips and shuffling again, wrapping a hand around him and smirking as his hips jerk. Feeling the precum smearing against your skin from the contact that came with that movement, lining him up and pressing his head into your slit before dropping your hips and taking him in one go. Remaining in place while your core adjusts to his size, licking your finger free from the wetness that had landed on them from both of your bodies. 

“Damn, you look good like that.” Now that you're settled, his hands are going to your hips giving them a brief squeeze while he’s waiting for you to finish adjusting. “Just remember Mayfly, we’re on a deadline.” 

Raising your eyebrows at him you slow your licks, making a show of sticking the pink muscle out and around your fingers. Groaning as he watches you, eyes narrowing and you can feel him twitching inside your walls. A soft giggle and you start to ride him, almost right away moaning, his cock hitting all the right places inside your body. Catching his eye you grin, squeezing your inner walls and adding a roll to your hips having him press against different parts inside of you. “That’s it Sunshine.” Humming and placing your hands on his abdomen for more leverage, growing sweaty with his much too big for you coat wrapped around your frame. 

Laughing as a thought hits you “Save a Toma, ride a Plant.” Vash snickering under you, pinching the skin of your hips. “Sorry Mayfly. This Plant wants to be a one woman mount.” Laughing more at his response, feeling it warm your heart while you take pleasure from his cock rubbing hard deep inside of you while you keep moving your hips. Lifting almost halfway up his cock now, moaning as you work both of you to completion. A harsh inhale from him drawing your attention and opening your eyes. “Damn you look good wearing my stuff and fucking me senseless.” 

You’ll have to take his word for it, reaching up and pushing his sunglasses more onto your face, feeling them slowly sliding down your nose. World once more changed to the shade he sees it in you smile, dropping your hips to his choosing to roll your body. Clit hitting against the fine hairs at the base of his cock. 

“Fuck I feel sweaty.” Panting as you keep rolling your hips, how the hell does he even run in this thing? His hands squeeze your hips again and you can see the veins of his throat starting to stand out as his neck arches.

“Almost there Mayfly.” His own hips moving now, bucking up into you while you keep rolling your own. Panting as he keeps going, hitting deep inside of you before his hands are pulling you hard against him. Hissing and you feel his cock throbbing as he cums inside of you, spurting his sticky seed deep inside you. Feeling those spasms weaken, Vashs’ hands slide up your body tugging you towards him, so your chest is pressed against his. 

Hand rubbing along your back, keeping the fabric of his coat from pressing against your skin. Coming down from his post orgasm high you giggle, looking into his smiling eyes. “So, you gonna throw your coat into the washer after this?” 

A snort and a light smack. “Nah. It I'll smell like you now, so when I smell it I’ll be reminded how good you look in my clothes and sunglasses. Unless you wanna go for a few more rounds?” Wiggling his eyebrows and giving his hips a wiggle making you laugh and slap his chest. “Go deal with our clothes first.” Rolling off his body and still wrapped in his scent wafting from his clothes, making sure none of it is under your dripping slit. Pressing his lips to yours as he sits up, grabbing his clothes and getting ready to head down to the main floor of the hotel. 

“Don’t move” a wink and a grin sent your way. “I’ll be back for round two.” Laughing as he leaves, glad you had given into temptation and put his coat on.  

Back to Masterlist for the series

#vash the stampede x reader smut #vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede #vash smut #trigun stampede #trigun #twink writes #Bullets Bandits Ghosts & Typhoons #tristamp #trigun smut #trigun stampede smut

[clavissionary-position]

For Chev Simps

I had a painfully beautiful epiphany about Chevalier while reading a book on poetry called Rhyme's Rooms by Brad Leithauser. This here is really nothing more than a personal headcanon though. It's sappy and simp-y and practically nonsense.

First, some context. Of which I'm sure I'm paraphrasing completely incorrectly, but it serves my purpose, so idk.

The particular chapter I was reading (which happens to be the very first) likens rhyming words in any given poem to its inherent 'music.' Sometimes the distance between rhyming words is only a handful of syllables, but sometimes you can go line after line after line after line after line after line, a hundred lines in, before you find the prodigal word that completes the pair—if you were consciously looking for it at all at that point. This might be the case in an intentionally-unrhymed blank verse epic like Paradise Lost (which the book uses as an example). The bottom line is, people aren't meant to seek out those rhymes across that great a difference. Those rhymes happen by default because English only has so many words.

Anyway, the author then falls back on the thought experiment he introduced at the start. Suppose, he says, there's a group of people with perfect recall, the perfect readers of any poem, because they can track rhyming words, those wandering notes of literary music, that exist across a vastness that is impossible for the average person to consciously traverse. Such a reader can enjoy even the rhymes that occur by chance because they can, by virtue of their memory, hunt rhymes to edge of the earth, across any stretch of time. They are "perfect" and they are "patient".

But the author's ultimate point is that while these hypothetical perfect readers can enjoy poems on a level that wasn't intended for the rest of us, they miss out on the exact thing that makes poems so special for those of us without perfect recall: "enlightened surprise," or the beautiful epiphany that comes from reading a poem over and over and over and each time discovering more of its secrets and its music.

Forget that last paragraph because what I want to say about Chevalier is this: as I'm sure you've picked up by now, he is that perfect reader with perfect recall. But imagine we aren't talking about a literal poem anymore. Instead let's talk about a love story told across time. And the rhyming words, the musical notes of this love story are your actions and your affections as beheld by Chevalier.

Chevalier, with his perfect recall, has the distinct ability to match every thing you do and say to its "rhyming" counterpart a hundred thousand, a hundred million actions away. He can "read" a poem written in your very movements through space and time and he can hear the music, no matter how long it takes for the phrase to conclude. He can enjoy you in a way that no one else can.

For Chevalier, you are a neverending poem.

#ikemen prince #chevalier michel