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#especially when I've read it five times
burntoutdaydreamer · 7 months
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Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write
I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)
I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.
1) My first draft stays between me and God
I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.
I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.
Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?
Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.
Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.
If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.
2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen
I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.
Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.
If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.
3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word
My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.
I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.
If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.
Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.
4) Write Out of Order
This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.
Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.
I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?
When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.
Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.
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witchywcmans · 23 days
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PLEASE, EAT. | LAIOS TOUDEN
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synopsis ━━ after you've been bitten by a sea serpent, you know the consequences are either death or the possibility of turning into one yourself. thankfully for you, laios touden is the devourer of all things monster and he is dedicated to getting that venom out of you. (laios x f!reader.)
content warnings ━━ sex pollen-adjacent, cunnilingus + fingering, praise, breath play (kinda, if you squint), semi-public sex, multiple orgasms. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).
word count ━━ 3k
song inspiration ━━ too sweet, hozier / more than friends, isabel larosa
author's note ━━ this is the first time I've ever written and posted an x reader one-shot on here, so please be gentle with me lol. I usually only write x oc fics bc I'm a yapper and I love creating characters. but alas...I was perusing the laios x reader tag and wanted to read something with this plot, couldn't find it, so I figured I'd just do it myself 🫡
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This was definitely one of the worst situations you’d been in.
You had joined Laios’ adventuring party just a few months prior. They had found you on floor 3 of the dungeon, shivering and mourning the loss of your father. His body, dead in your arms, and beside him lay the lifeless body of a ghoul you had killed. At first, the party’s leader, Laios Touden, had only been interested in taking the ghoul's body so they could use its bones for utensils after the flesh rotted off. But it was Marcille who noticed the tears in your eyes, how you trembled from the cold, and suggested they take you in. You almost declined, not wanting to leave your father’s body, but knowing he’d soon turned into a monster left you with only one option. Your father had been with you for the past twenty-five years of your life, and now, you were leaving his dead body in a dungeon to travel with a group of strangers.
You soon came to appreciate your new party, though, and you felt your father’s spirit within each of them. Marcille had his kindness, Chilchuck had a comparable wit, Senshi was gifted with excellent cooking skills, and Laios … well, you were still figuring that out. And surprisingly, it was Laios who you began to connect with the most. His knowledge of monsters was unmatched, and he had a passion for learning how to prepare them while they traveled deeper into the dungeon. He was overtly blunt, much like you, and possessed similar advanced fighting skills due to both your fathers' teachings.
Sometimes … sometimes though, you found yourself staring at him more than you should have. His face was abnormally perfect, as if he’d been carved by an artist. His tousled ash-blonde hair reminded you of a lion, and his eyes … sometimes you could’ve sworn they were made out of gold, shimmering like molten lava. Each time you thought this way, you smacked yourself when no one else was looking. I mean, Laios was your friend, your party leader. Having a crush, especially in circumstances like these, was unethical. You had always been focused on one thing: helping your party and making it out of this dungeon alive, for your father. You wouldn’t let a little crush deter you.
Everything had been all well and good until today, when you and your party reached the end of floor 4. When Laios had struggled to fight off a sea serpent, you joined him in the lukewarm water, using your crossbow to shoot the creature in the head. Finally, Laios was able to step in to slice the serpent’s head off … but not before the creature could snap its jaw, tearing one fang down your hip. You jumped back, screaming as you felt the venom seep into you instantly. Some said sea serpent venom would kill you immediately, others said it turned you into one of them, cursing you to haunt the waters with them as penance. As soon as the head was cut, Laios carried you away from the water, and the last thing you heard was Marcille cursing him out before you were rendered unconscious. 
You were woken up – hours, maybe days later – by a drop of water hitting your face every few seconds. Lifting your head from the makeshift tunic pillow, you took in your surroundings. You were at the entrance of floor 5, in a damp corner of cobblestone, while water dripped down onto the floor every so often. There was a moist bandage covering your side where the serpent’s fang had cut into you, part of your tunic ripped to shreds. Hunger boiled in your stomach, making you groan and rub your head. Laios was sitting just a few feet away, a small fire in front of him to keep warm. Marcille had to have helped him with that; there was no way to craft a fire in an area this damp.
“Am I dead?” You asked softly. 
Laios immediately turned in your direction, his mouth lifting in a smile. “Of course not.”
Your stomach did flip flops as you took in his smile, hunger consuming you. You needed something to eat – bad. Your body felt hot and sweaty, and you wondered if it was just from the humidity, even though Laios didn’t look affected. Sitting up, you informed him, “Well, that was one of two options my father said would happen from a sea serpent bite. Which means …” You lifted the bandage up, noticing the gills that started to form on the healing wound. A turquoise hue surrounded the gills, almost like a bruise. “Oh, fuck,” you muttered.
Laios stood, looming over you while asking, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s the other option,” you replied, too hungry to cry. “The bite is –”
“– Turning you into a sea serpent,” Laios finished. “Honestly, I thought that was just a myth. But when the bite didn’t kill you …” His mouth twitched, tongue darting out to wet the corners of his lips. “We have to suck the venom out. That has to stop the mutation.”
Your head snapped up. “Huh?” 
But as soon as your eyes met his, you started to wondered if what you were experiencing was hunger after all. Perhaps … a different kind of hunger. Laios stared down at you, the sparkling gold replaced by a dark hazel. It was just you two in this little corner of the dungeon, but you suddenly felt exposed, so naked, under his gaze. Your body was hot all over, sweat sticking to uncomfortable places. And your thighs … a burning need emerged between them, soaking the thin linen of your undergarments. This had to be a symptom of the bite, but it suddenly didn’t matter anymore. Your worry had been replaced by an ache that only he could fix.
No – absolutely not. You couldn’t. You shouldn’t. You were turning into a sea serpent.
But the need between your legs still throbbed.
“It’s like when a snake bites you on the surface,” Laios said, crouching down to your eye level. His closeness made your heart rate pick up. You realized then that he had shed his armor, kneeling in front of you in just his gambeson, which clung to his muscles and wide frame. “A sea serpent is part snake. Sucking out the venom should stop the mutation. You’ll probably experience symptoms from the bite for a few more hours, but they’ll stop eventually.” 
He started to peel back the bandage, taking a look at the gills forming on your hip when you gripped his wrist. Immediately, his skin burned, making you even more hot. You ripped your hand away from him, and with sweat trickling down the side of your face, you said, “Don’t you think this is … weird? Maybe Marcille should do it.”
“Marcille and the others just went back to another part of the level to find dinner. They won’t return for an hour, at least. This can’t wait.” He inspected the turquoise gills with concern, before his eyes snapped back to yours, noticing the way your black pupils filled almost the entire iris. “Do you not trust me?”
“Of course, I trust you. It’s just …” What exactly was the reason again? Oh, yes, it was pulsating hunger dripping between your legs from the bite, and you were terrified how you’d react the second his lips wrapped around your wound. The symptoms would just get worse. But he was right – this was the only way. Fuck, this had to be the most embarrassing thing you’d ever experienced. 
“Fine,” you finally relented, lying back down on the cobblestone. You did your best to get comfortable, but the makeshift pillow hardly provided much cushion between you and the floor.  “What should I do?”
“Nothing, just lay back and let me take care of it.” Laios lifted your tunic a smidge, and just the tenor of his voice made your ache even worse. “We’re just gonna … get this out of the way. And then …” His fingers hooked on the waistband of your pants, and you immediately clutched his collar. If you touched his skin again, you were sure to moan.
Laios looked from where your hand was gripping him and back to your eyes. “Your pants need to be off so I can have better access to the mutation. It’s on your hip.” You swallowed hard, knowing he was right, and your hand started to slip off his collar. “We’re friends, right?” He asked.
You nodded weakly.
“Good,” he smiled again, and you struggled to hold back a plea for him to touch you. He pulled down your pants, tossing them to the side. For a moment, he paused, taking in your soaked underwear and running his fingers over the mutation on your hip. He licked his lips again, and then said in a rather blunt tone, “You’re so –”
“Don’t say it,” you cut in, snapping your eyes shut to prevent further embarrassment.  Though you had never minded Laois’ occasional lack of social cues, this was one of those moments you needed anything but. “Just get the venom out.”
Laios tugged your underwear down a little to see if the mutation had spread. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he informed you, lowering his head to your hip. “I’ve read that these bites can have a multitude of internal symptoms. Nightmares ... sweating … fever …” He ran his tongue over the gills, making your breath hitch instantly. “… And especially, arousal. Neat, huh?” He chuckled, and just his warm breath on the gills made you even more wet. “Don’t worry, I got you,” he assured before finally wrapping his mouth on the wound.
Your body burned even hotter than before as soon as his lips touched your skin. He sucked the venom out of you, spitting out blue globs every other second. His hands gripped your side, digging into your flesh and leaving crescent shapes from his nails. As you felt the gills start to close up, you couldn’t help but moan and arch into nothing. This felt better than any time you masturbated … any time you imagined your party leader above you … Fuck, who would’ve thought sucking sea serpent venom out of you would feel this good? Thank the gods the rest of their party was off catching dinner. You couldn’t deal with them possibly hearing this.
It surprised you when your orgasm flooded through you like a crashing wave. As Laios finished sucking out the last of the venom and the mutation closed, your arousal came to a definite peak and you let out a whine. You grabbed his arm, cumming from absolutely no stimulation.
Laios didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, he was mostly preoccupied with inspecting the area. You opened your eyes, your cheeks tinged pink, and saw the globs of venom to the left dissipate to nothing but water. You pinched the bridge of your nose, “I’m sorry, I –”
“The mutation closed. I was right!” Laios looked down at you, a big grin covering his face. “How do you feel?”
“Well, I definitely don’t feel a second set of lungs on my hip anymore.” You lifted your hand when you noticed a trickle of blue staining his lip, wiping it away with your thumb. “But I … my body is still …” The ache inside you had simmered slightly, but it was still there, lingering underneath the surface. 
This was genuinely humiliating. Maybe you should’ve just decided to turn into a sea serpent after all.
Laios grabbed your wrist before you could pull away from his face. He leaned into your palm, running his long nose down to your inner wrist. “Your skin is so warm. I can still smell how aroused you are from the serpent bite.” His eyes burned into yours, keeping your hand close to his face. “I can help. Do you need another release?”
Your cheeks got even more red when he acknowledged your orgasm. Shaking your head, you said, “I couldn’t ask you to do that. I can just –”
“I’d be honored to,” he replied, quite gruffly and persistent. His fingers tugged your underwear down with precision and ease, despite the damp fabric clinging to you. He spread your legs wide and placed them on his shoulders. Lowering himself down, he inhaled the scent of your climax and hooked his arms around your inner thighs. He smiled up at you – your pretty face red with embarrassment – all dopey-eyed and grateful. “You lot like to call me the devourer of monsters. Perhaps I should devour the last bit of monster out of you.”
He inhaled again, groaning like he typically did when he was hungry. His hot breath against your achingly wet pussy made you whimper with desperation. “You smell so good down here,” he whispered. “I’d wager you taste even better.”
You gasped as soon as he dove between your legs, licking a stripe through your folds, tasting your recent orgasm. He flicked his tongue over your clit before sucking on it with feverish excitement. Slick gathered on his tongue and he whined, needing more. So much more. You were the most delicious meal he’d ever tasted. Better than any monster, better than anything on the surface. 
“So good,” he muttered into your pussy, lapping against your clit, doing anything that would get him more of your arousal. “You taste so, so good.”
You whimpered out his name and attempted to close your legs, but he held them opened with all his strength. His arms wrapped around your thighs went tight, bruising the sensitive flesh. Your jaw went slack while your own hands scrambled for purchase, eventually landing in his cropped hair. You tugged, hips bucking against his face, making him groan even more. This allowed him to hold your hips a little higher, and his tongue finally dipped into your leaking entrance. You heard him grunt the second he plunged his tongue deeper, his nose nuzzling your clit. 
He devoured you like a starved man. He devoured you like you were a boiled scorpion, or roast basilisk, or – even better – like sweet, delicious homemade cheesecake. 
“Laios,” you whined, feeling your fever dissolve with each lap of his tongue. “Laios, it’s … fuck – it’s okay, I feel –”
“Need more,” he muttered, his voice low and laced with need. He was practically humping the stone floor as he buried his tongue as far as it could go inside you. Your hips couldn’t stop bucking forward, riding his face as you felt your orgasm building at the base of your stomach. Laios was completely transfixed. He wanted to be here, nestled between your thighs, for every meal. He’d take you away from the rest of the group before dinner, lapping away to the sounds of your pleas and whimpers, so help him gods. He’d do this every day, every night, whenever you wanted, for as long as he was alive. Fuck monsters. He could survive off the taste of you for the rest of his life.
Slipping his tongue out of your hole, he went back to sucking on your throbbing clit and feeling your legs start to tremble. You had to be close to another release, and he was desperate to taste it. He paid all his attention on your clit, snaking one hand up and sinking two fingers knuckle-deep into your entrance in tandem. “Fuck,” you moaned, tugging on his hair once again, “fuck – gods, Laios. I – I’m s-so close –”
“Please,” he begged, smearing your slick all over his mouth. “Please, you’re so good. Need to see how you taste when you release on my tongue.” His own hips continued to buck against the floor.
You choked on a cry when you finally came all over his tongue. He groaned, loud and drawn out, when he finally got a taste of your sweet climax, knowing that it was him that brought you to this point. The orgasm felt long, like the ocean bringing you in and out, and your whole body trembled. He continued lapping at your clit as it pulsed under his tongue, his fingers curling inside you through your orgasm. When you finally breathed out and started to come down from the high of it all, Laios stayed between your thighs, allowing his tongue to gently swirl your clit. Maybe if he continued, he could taste a little more of you …
You found your voice, hoarse from overstimulation. “Laios, please, you have to stop,” you begged, yanking his head up from between your legs. His mouth was covered in your slick, and then he was giving you that dopey expression again, making your heart clench. Your body was no longer hot and sweaty. Laios had completely cured you of the sea serpent bite with that expert mouth of his. He unwound his arms from your thighs, bringing his fingers that were still covered with your wetness to his mouth, tasting the last of your orgasm. You watched him, eyes wide and cheeks blushing, until he was looking at you again with those golden doe eyes.
“That was amazing,” he said, like he was in a haze. When your eyes flickered down, you realized he was hard in his pants, but it wasn’t like he even noticed himself with the way he was staring at you. “We should do that again sometime.”
He stood up, and you scrambled to pull your clothes back on before the group came back. You stammered, “It’s okay, uh – we don’t have to. Especially if you don’t want to. We could just –”
“I want to,” he cut in, a determined look in his eyes. “What are friends for, right?” 
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elumish · 2 months
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Issues I've Seen In Recent Books I've Read (Part 1)
In no particular order:
Contrived explanations for things both characters would know. I was reading a book recently where a character who worked for the CIA asked another character for the CIA if the CIA used to torture people, which then briefly turned into an explainer about the CIA's history of torture and why it was bad. The issue here is that the fact that the CIA used to torture people is common knowledge (presumably especially for people who work there), and it just feels like a hamfisted way of explaining it to the reader.
Every character having the same reaction to the same thing. In that same book series, every time any character came out to anyone (and this was a gay book series, so it happened a lot), the character who they came out to said some version of, almost verbatim, "Thank you for entrusting me with that." Not every character is going to have the same literal reaction to something, and this is a great way to show characterization--how does this character react, rather than how does every character react?
Characters accepting things too quickly. Sexual awakenings took five minutes and single therapy sessions were enough to entirely rewrite characters' mindsets on core issues of their identity and how they're living their lives, which is a quick and handy way of speeding things up in writing but begins to strain credulity for the reader pretty quickly.
Forgotten injuries until they become necessary. In a different series, I see a common issue that authors have when they write an injured character: they ignore the injury unless it's plot relevant. An aggressive and traumatizing injury to an arm wasn't mentioned for long swaths of time, including whether it hurt--until a different character would see it. It was mentioned that it was getting infected--but nothing ever came of that. Injuries are often treated as ignorable unless Something Happens, while in real life they tend to be noticeable more continuously.
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dahliakbs · 2 months
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✧⁠*⁠。Bat kids using your house as their getaway.✧⁠*⁠。
Masterlist
After a long day of work your decide to retire to your small and humble abode, but what's this?
A grown man and two kids sitting on your doorstep, one struggling to pick your lock while both kids sat on look out.
They immediately noticed your figure standing in the hallway.
"Um, what's all this?" You say pointing to the luggage that they've brought along with them.
"Tim drove the batmobile through the house and no one wants to be there when Bruce gets home" Dick explains.
"How'd you-"
"Honestly, I've seen five year olds with better driving skills Drake" Damian comments.
"Shut it hell spawn, not everyone was taught how to drive. Alright?" Tim says bitterly.
"Okay guys! You can not keep crashing at my place whenever something is wrong" you interrupt.
"Suppose someone sees you guys coming here" you push past Dick and push your keys in the door.
Honestly, you didn't mind their presence but sometimes they'd show up at the most random times and cause you all sorts of trouble.
Especially Jason.
Every once in a while he'll force open your side window and come inside your house to read one of the few books on your shelf.
Now that's not the problem, the problem is that half the time he bruised and bloody and your house is always his next destination after a tough fight.
On separate occasions Damian will crash at your house, mostly when he doesn't want to deal with his father's demands or if he did something wrong.
Like that one time he randomly showed up to your house with a pillow and a toothbrush and refused to tell you why he was here.
But then he's dragged back home by his dad the same evening, can't remember why.
Something about Damian blowing a hole in the back of their microwave.
But back to the present.
When you turned the knob of your front door you were immediately met with the sight of Jason Todd lounging on your sofa with a book in hand.
"What is this, a family gathering?" you walk in as the rest shuffle in behind you.
"What next, is Bruce also gonna show up out of thin air-"
Then you notice the large brooding male standing at the entrance of your kitchen silently.
.... sigh
"So you really just watched us struggle to open the door for an hour and refused to help" Tim asked while avoiding Bruce's glare.
"Basically" Jason responds.
"Your all grounded..... Including you" he points to you.
"...But I live here"
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hoshigray · 11 months
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Been thinking about this scenario a lot, but ex-husband! Toji, where you two are pretty chill with each other, even after five years of divorce. But the feelings between you two start to parade back after all these years, and it all comes boiling over after spending one night together.
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A/n: Been a while since I've done one of these scenario thingies, plus this idea has been rotting my mind for a long time, and I needed it to get out, lol. I pushed back my Gojo fic to tmrw or Thursday because my brain was not feeling like re-reading 3-4k words while running on one hour of sleep. So, instead, we're dropping this in its stead. Sorry about that, and hope you like this while I fix the fic up later today :) Any grammar/spelling errors on this will be dealt with tmrw.
Cw: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - implied that reader is entering their mid 30s - starts out cute the first half but smutty the next, so minors DNI - implied that Tsumiki and Megumi are around middle school age; 12 (T) and 11 (M) - pining; Toji is whipped for you, I fear - Daddy kink - prone bone position + mating press - pet names (baby, sweetheart, sweetie, mama, princess) - cervix fucking - praise - itty-bitty-tiny overstimulation - closure; happy ending (?).
Wc: 3.4k (wow, way longer than the last one, lol)
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Ex-husband! Toji...
...who you've divorced after being together for four years. It was a marriage built on love, convenience, and heartache. There is no denying that Toji loved you very much; if anything, the man would set the world ablaze if anything were to happen to you. Especially when you were the sweetest thing that blessed his presence and his two children who were young at the time — Tsumiki and Megumi at age three. The fact that you loved him as much as he loved you is beyond doubt in Toji's mind. However, somewhere down the line, you felt a "shadow" that you could not surpass nor fill — the late wife of Toji.
You could tell that Toji still had a piece of him that just couldn't let the memory of his late wife go, and you understood that. Hence why you chose to leave him, which was glum for all parties, but Toji understood where you were coming from and signed the papers.
...who's still chill with you after the divorce. You two promised not to act like complete strangers, especially with Tsumiki and Megumi being close to you. Just because the ring isn't on your finger doesn't mean you must change completely. The two of you are comfortable enough to be in each other's company, taking turns watching over the kids and acting like you're still married by poking fun at one another like the good days.
"Hey, big guy," Toji turns to the kitchen hallway where you're looking at him, his usual black coffee in his mug still sheltered in your apartment cupboards. "You look like shit; too tired to go to the clubs to find some minx to wow you enough like you used to?"
He snickers at your brazenness. "Shut up, brat. I could ask the same fr' you. Got some good dick on the side to help that attitude of yours, baby?" After checking around to see if the kids are nearby, you give him the middle finger. He chuckles before sipping his coffee.
...whose kids adore and love you so much that they secretly try to have you and Toji in the same place, which the two of you are entirely aware of. Five years passed after your separation, though that doesn't hinder the children from wanting you back in their lives again. Because to them, you are always a Fushiguro, and the love for you will always be there. It's there when you go to Tsumiki's soccer games and drag your ex-husband to find a better seat on the bleachers to watch her play. It's there when Megumi tells his father he "accidentally" left his baseball bat at your place and "unfortunately" now has to spend the night there (and you always receive them). And it's there when you promise to come along on family trips, like going to the zoo and taking pictures by the Panda enclosure with his daughter or going to the aquarium and listening intently to his son explain all the different types of jellyfish.
Toji can't blame his own kin for being attached to you because you are still a mother in their eyes. And so to his.
...who has his wedding ring on his dog-tag necklace but always tucks it under his shirt whenever you're present. It gives him a peace of mind when it comes to you because if he can't be there for you 24/7, he knows you're under his protection whenever you need it. But the thought of you knowing he still wears it makes him anxious, worried that you'll take it the wrong way and request he never wears it again. So, for his sake, he keeps you blind to this secret. And he wonders if you ever wear yours...
...who welcomes you without hesitation when you have to spend the night at his place because he notices you're too exhausted to go home so late. The only problem is that there's no other room outside the kids and Toji's. And as much you protest, expressing your satisfaction with taking the couch, your ex-husband disagrees and will carry you to bed, sneering to himself as you try to wiggle out of his stronghold until he smacks the bedroom door closed with his leg.
"I told you I was fine sleeping on the couch, Toji." You complain to him, yet your back is pressed against his chest with his arm around your waist.
"And I told you not gonna happen, princess." his hold around you gets tighter, pulling you closer for him to rest his chin on your shoulder. "You'd probably fall off and smack that pretty face of y'rs on the floor."
"I would not—You know what," you stooped from saying anything further to the man grinning behind your ear. You shift a bit to make yourself comfortable. "Goodnight, Toji. And thank you."
It takes every fiber in his being to not kiss your cheek then and there. Exhaling softly through his nostrils as he lays his head back on the pillow. "No problem, sweetheart."
...who the last time he had someone after your separation was not feeling it at all. You even said he is free to do whatever he wants when moving on to the next minx that caught his attention. You two are adults and shouldn't feel entitled to putting each other on a leash. Despite that, he knew moving on from you wouldn't be easy — especially in the bedroom.
The women he's had after you can only be counted on one hand. No matter how good the fun was with the others, his mind would always crawl back to you. It didn't matter how different their hair was, what they dressed that night, or how fucking good the sex was; you would cloud his mind in some way. They weren't you. They weren't his sweet thing.
...who's extremely perplexed in a nightclub when he sees you. He didn't want to go in the first place until Satoru Gojo barged into his apartment, dragged him out in his best attire, and left Nanami (another victim of Gojo's foolishness) to babysit Megumi and Tsumiki. And it was bad enough that Gojo snaked away from Toji to the dance floor the second they got inside, the raven-haired man almost popping a vein in vexation.
So the older man resorts to just doing the usual gig: walking around before sitting at the bar to ask for a regular beer. He stays there for nearly half an hour, taking sips of his bottle while sweet-talking to the ladies that occasionally find him and give him his number. Things got really loud when the DJ at the discothèque played "Up!" by Lil Vada and DonnySolo, all the party people crowding the floor, bumping and grinding each other while singing the lyrics. It was at this point that Toji had enough of the massive headache growing in his head, so he was about to down his beer and leave the club; Gojo be damned because the fucker could find his own way home and then some.
But midway through putting the beer bottle on his scarred lips, something in Toji's peripheral captures his attention. And his jade eyes go wide at what he sees.
Down to the right side of the dance floor are booths catered to bigger parties, so it's obvious to notice when a single person sits alone on one of the round tables while everyone else is dancing their hearts out. That one person was you, observing the dance floor with your head on your hand resting on the table.
To say that Toji was flabbergasted by the image of you in a place like this after all these years was tough for him to comprehend. Yet what really had him in a chokehold was how stunning you were. From where he stood, he could tell that you dolled yourself quite a bit. Your hair was kept in a style that displayed your face wholly, and you were wearing a beautiful halter-neck dress with slits revealing your thighs deliciously.
He forgets how to breathe when your eyes drift in his direction and find him. You're just as surprised as he is for a short moment, but you offer him a familiar smile and beckon him to come to your side of the club. The older man wastes no time, paying the bartender and making his way through the crowd to your table. When he's close enough, he can tell that your dress is backless, exposing your smooth skin that calls for him to touch.
And when Toji notices the ring on your left hand — the old wedding ring he gifted you — the world around him comes to a complete standstill.
"Hey, big guy." He snaps back to look at your beautiful face, your smile still there to blind him, and the booth far from the dance floor and music so he can listen to your sweet voice. You move to the side to make room for him to sit. "Didn't think I'd find you here."
"Me neither." He admits to you as he takes a seat, his green orbs never leaving your figure. "What are you doin' here?"
"Some friends dragged me out here for one of their birthdays. I figured I'd be here for a few hours and loosen up a bit, you know? But I don't know, I guess I'm just so used to being at my place that I'm out of practice with clubs."
Toji nods at your answer. "Yeah, I was dragged here, too. I'm with—"
"Gojo? Yeah, I thought so. He's right there dancing with my friends." He pans around to the dance floor to see commotion at the center. The snow-haired man was dancing as a crowd formed around him, getting grinded on by a woman with a "happy birthday" headband.
Gojo notices the raven-headed man staring his way, pulls down his shades, and winks. That's when the reason why Toji was brought here in the first place hits him. Gojo knew you would be here tonight because of your friend's birthday. And now that you two are sitting alone, the wink signaled Toji to make his move.
"....Wanna get the hell outta here?"
You giggle at his suggestion. "Yeah, I don't feel like watching my friends get pregnant on the dance floor."
Toji snickers and grabs your hand to lead you out of the booth. He then drapes his denim jacket over your shoulders to cover your exposed shoulders and back, and the two of you leave the club without anyone noticing a thing.
...who spends the rest of the night with you as if you two are on a date again. It's late, so many shops around the area are closed already, but that doesn't stop the two of you from having fun. From sharing a meal at a nearby diner, walking around a shopping plaza admiring the silent ambiance, and listening to old tunes in his car as you two share stuff about your day while holding hands. And the change of mood completely baffles Toji. Nevertheless, when he sees the smile on your face and hears the sweet tune of your laughter, the grasp on your hand gets tighter with every minute. All his intentions go into enjoying having you with him like this again.
...who stays by your side until he has to drop you off at your place, parked his car to walk you to your apartment door. It's 1 o'clock in the morning, way later than Toji ever intended to stay out. Not that it matters now, because it's all worth it being able to walk with you. He doesn't let go of your hand even when his heart dies a little when you two arrive at your door.
"Had a good time?" You ask while unlocking the door; your eyes showcase subtle exhaustion but are overshadowed by your smile.
"Sure as hell did since I saw you at the club." He confesses, your chuckles casting a spell on him.
"Hmm, I'm glad you were there too, Toji." You meant those words, your eyes gazing into his, and the man's plunged deep into your gorgeous orbs. A feeling that he now realizes he wants to be the only one experiencing with you.
An awkward silence for a few seconds prompts you to snatch your hand away from his, causing his stomach to drop. "Sorry, your jacket" is what you use to excuse yourself, moving to take off the denim jacket. But Toji stops you, his hands stationed on your shoulders to keep you still.
"No, it's cold, sweetie." His voice is hushed, only for you to hear. "You can give it back next time."
Silence comes back again, but the air is heavier this time. The awkwardness is replaced with something more solicitous, more affectionate. You notice it when Toji has yet removed his hands from your shoulders, his large palms warming you up to the touch.
"Toji—"
"It's alright, baby." His gruff tone is still a whisper, and butterflies flutter in your stomach. "I won't do anythin'."
"No, no," you don't know what came over you, but you place your hands on his chest. Then your finger touches something from underneath his turtleneck, having you pull his collar down to pull out the dog-tag necklace that still harbors his old wedding ring. Toji's blood shifts to ice cold when you see the accessory — his anxiousness spikes up to an all-time high, only mere seconds from combusting based on whatever your response will be. And it comes.
"I...I want you to do something, Toji." It felt strange saying those words with your shaky confidence, though it's what you wished to express. "I want you..."
And just like that, whatever restraint that the older man had for you was butchered away. Emerald eyes take in every feature of your anticipating expression, and his lips come crashing down on yours.
...who couldn't care less how late it is right now because he finally has you where he wants you after all these years. It's 2:30 in the morning, way too late for loud noises as they'll disrupt the neighbors next door. But, again, Toji doesn't care about that. When he finally has you lying under him on your stomach, screaming out his name while he drives his cock deep inside you, what is there to care about?
The two of you are in the prone bone position, where you lie flat on your belly on the cream-white satin sheets of your bed, your legs in between Toji's and bare ass out for him to have easy access to your creamy cunt that hugs onto him all so well.
Tears paint your wet and sweaty face, drool escapes from the corner of your mouth and meets the sheets beneath you. The harsh thrusts of Toji's pelvis hitting your ass with such precision have you see stars, and his big hands keep your arms still. All you can hear are the ecstatic cries of your voice and the noises of skin smacking together.
"Nnmph!! Haaaah!! Ahhhh, yesssss, Daddy, just like that," your voice feels strained from all the screaming you've been doing for the past hour. Lips are swollen from the constant biting, your butt stinging from the intense contact with your ex-husband's pelvis. It's hard to think of anything but the man above you and his dick rearranging your slit like his personal toy. You never thought you'd experience this exhilarating and rewarding sensation again. And now that you do, it's all you want to indulge in. "H-Harder, pleaseeee, I want mo—Ahhhnnn!"
Toji grinds his hips down to your ass, churning your insides and grazing your cervix to the point of incoherent babbles. "Mmmm, oooh, shit, fuckin' shit. You're too tight on me, mama." He gives you a sharp thrust when you least expect it, and the walls of your chasm clamping down on his length has him hiss. It's hard to believe you're permitting him to have you like this. It's been five years. Five years of respectful boundaries and keeping a platonic relationship. Five years of denying feelings of want and desire. All those years of heavy guilt suddenly lifted from his shoulders just for him to have you under his bow again, your body quivering and voice shaky because of his touch.
It feels so surreal...But, God, Toji missed this so goddamn much. Missing your eyes, your smile, your touch, your body. Just you. Only you. "Hnnngh!! Damn, you feel so fuckin' good, baby. Can never have enough..."
"Mnnaaaah! Daddy, I'm gonna cummm, I'm gonna—Oooohh!!" The tip of his shaft scrapes the upper walls of your vagina, your brain pounding so hard to the point it hurts. "Pleaseee, let me cum, Daddyyy..."
He can tell you're close and senses your orgasm climbing up with his. That's when the pace of his hips goes erratically fast, jabbing your sweet spots and tender cervix, causing more tears to come down and your peak to finally release for the third time that night. As you cream on his cock, Toji's not too far from his own crescendo. Your velvety walls contract around his member divinely, and the older man spills his load into your quivering figure.
You're allowed to experience the aftershocks of your orgasm as you two let your bodies calm down, Toji laying his chest on your sweaty, heaving back. He then slowly removes his dick from your chasm, and the essence of your unioned sex feels cold while sliding down your inner thighs.
"Haaaaah...Mmmm, thank you, Toji." You whimper out as he lays kisses down your neck and shoulders. "Thank you..."
But little did you know that it wasn't the last of it. Before you could apprehend what was going on, Toji already had you flipped over to your back, stationing your legs on his shoulders to a mating press. And you see that his cock is not limp yet...
W-Wait a damn second—
"T-Toji, wait, hold on!" You try to rationalize with the man who aligns his shaft to your gushing vulva, and your sweat runs cold. "It's getting late. I just came three times already! We should—Nmmmph!!"
The head of his cock slides right in thanks to the slick and come lubricating your opening. Adding his weight onto you as he pushes his length deep into your chasm again, you cry choked sobs when he meets your cervix again, and his pelvis rubs against your clitoris. "Sorry, mama. Just lemme finish here, 'kay? Daddy missed havin' you like this, so I wanna give you all of me while I still can."
...who has your fatigued self lying on his chest, rubbing circles on your back and placing soft kisses on your forehead as you feel the effects of sleep slowly creep up on you. The lights are now off, the moonlight bargaining from the curtains being the only light source as you two are ready to gather whatever amount of sleep you can get.
"Hey, baby." But before that, Toji wants your attention for the last time before you sleep.
"Mhmm?" Your eyes are closed, but your ears are still open to listen.
His eyes drift down to the left hand that lays motionless on his chest. The gem on the ring flashes softly for it to be distinguishable. "How come you were wearin' your ring at the club?"
A few seconds go by before you give him the honest truth. "Same reason you wear yours. I always wear it when going out somewhere or alone someplace. Gives people the idea that I'm not ready for anyone else."
"Then why not wear it when I'm around?"
You giggle breathlessly. "Same reason why you don't let me see yours. I don't need a ring when I have you with me. A ring doesn't compare to my big man who will love and protect me wherever we go."
And Toji doesn't ask anything else after that. He lets you fall asleep in his arms and listens to your breathing follow a melodic rhythm. Your words stick with him even when his eyes close, and he soon falls into a deep sleep.
It's far-fetched to think that you two will be married again. Maybe it's possible in his dreams, but not in the real world. Regardless, Toji knows he will always stand beside you and be there for you. With or without a ring that's merely evidence of your love to outsiders. He knows you love him, and that's all he needs to keep moving. And if he could have you as his wife again, he'd sweep you off your feet in a heartbeat.
5K notes · View notes
reilemon · 12 days
Text
💫Xavier, Xavier, Xavier...💫
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♡︎synopsis: Xavier shows you what happens when you push your luck.
♡︎pairing: Xavier x fem!reader
。°⚠︎°。MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)。°⚠︎°。
♡︎cw: established relationship, edging, orgasm denial, oral sex (both male and female receiving), fingering, creampie, pet names
♡︎word count: 2.1k
♡︎a/n: Okay, it starts when MC falls onto the sofa and Xavier asks 'what's your answer'. Although I love how MC reassures him after, I changed some stuff between that moment and the doorbell, to set the tone for the rest of the fic 🤭.
♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this!
divider by @cafekitsune
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The back of your knees hit the sofa making you plop down onto the couch.
Xavier cages you in with his legs on either side of yours, his hands resting on the back and armrest. "So, what's your answer?"
You grin in amusement. He's so cute (and hot) when he gets jealous. You squish his pillowy cheeks "Are you jealous?"
He averts his gaze, pouting. "No."
You can't deny how attractive he looked just now as he basically cornered you onto the couch with the raised eyebrow, the intense gaze as he towered over you.
You did get a feeling that you may have talked about Lumiere too much, and this merch unpacking didn't help. Still, you want to tease him more. Because he's being ridiculous and he should know that all of you belongs to him - Xavier.
You check the time on the digital watch in the distance. You should have around four, five minutes. Biting back a mischievous grin, you look up at him with innocent eyes as your hands wander from his cheeks, down over his torso to slowly stroke the front of his pants. "I've been talking about Lumiere too much, have I?"
His breath hitches as he watches you unbutton his pants.
"Let me make it up to you." You free his already hard dick. You always make him worked up so easily. Your tongue slides from the base towards the tip, your mouth giving the cockhead attention while your hand strokes the rest of his length.
Xavier's hand rests on your head, and he's resisting the urge to buck his hips, to feel more of your delicious mouth.
He pants "You still haven't -"
The doorbell rings.
He completely forgot about the delivery that was on the way.
You take the chance of momentarily distraction and pull away. "We can't keep the delivery guy waiting."
Disbelief written all over his face, he grabs you by the chin. "Nope. I still haven't heard the answer I want."
You swat away his hand and you squeeze through between him and the couch, rushing towards the door. You chime over your shoulder "I'm the injured one here, Lumi - I mean, Xavier!" And you can't help a sly smile that creeps up on your lips when you're away from his eyesight.
Xavier heard that nice and clear as he zipped up his pants. You're so paying for that later.
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The rest of the days of your recovery are the same - uneventful. You had the checkup, leveled up in the game, watched more movies and TV shows, ate those healthy porridges and Xavier's questionable smoothies. The new Lumiere merch and your occasional teasing of Xavier made this mundane routine more exciting. You had the ‘girlfriend in recovery’ immunity, so you made good use of it. You would either "accidentally" refer to him as Lumiere, or you'd keep suggesting to him to wear the costume once you're fully recovered.
You adored seeing his pouts, and you couldn't help but feel excited when he's jealous, especially when you remember that one night in the club bathroom*.
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Couple of days pass since your full recovery and return to work. Both you and Xavier were too busy while getting back on track with everything, but tonight you finally have time for each other.
Finally.
You're aching for his touch. He didn't want to do anything while he was your caregiver, even though you insisted that you're fine. You did tease him that time when he was wearing the Lumiere costume, but he didn't mention it later and neither did you.
As much as you complained about that "mundane routine", you missed it now that your schedule is hectic again, so you decided to invite Xavier for a movie night. You're going to watch an old movie "The Mask of Zorro" and eat dinner that already arrived. You change into pajama shorts and your favorite Xavier's hoodie that you stole.
A few minutes later the doorbell rings, so you answer it - and you almost squeal in excitement when you see Xavier in Lumiere outfit at your doorstep.
He decided to wear this since you already bought it for him, and because he did feel silly for feeling jealous of his own persona. Seeing your enthusiasm makes him amused and glad that he indulged you.
And he ignores the jealous feeling creeping up in his chest again.
He steps in and greets you by taking your hand a planting a soft kiss on top of it. Then he pulls you by the waist and gives your lips a gentle peck.
You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a deeper kiss. You pull away with a smile, your finger dangling the ear cuff "Let's go to the bedroom."
"I thought you invited me for dinner?"
"That can wait."
Xavier chuckles and lifts you up princess style and walks towards the bedroom, as you kiss and lick his sensitive neck.
When he softly places you on the bed, you immediately sit up to the edge, his crotch right in front of you. You sweetly look up at him as your hand strokes over his clothed member “I think I owe you something, Lumiere.”
Lumie- Xavier’s jaw clenches. He takes a deep breath and his gloved hand catches you wrist. “Lumiere, huh?”
That sly grin threatens to tug at your lips. Oh, this is going to be good. You give him your best innocent pout and angelic doe eyes, acting oblivious.
Letting go of your wrist, he takes off your hoodie, revealing you’re wearing nothing underneath, your breasts bare and already nipples perked up. He kneels in front of you, one gloved hand groping one while his mouth gives attention to the other one, gently kissing and sucking sensitive the nipple. Shortly after, you lie down, resting on your elbows, as he takes off your shorts and panties together.
With his teeth, he removes a glove from one hand and offers you his two middle fingers which you take into your mouth, sucking on them, tongue swirling, generously coating them. Breaking the string of saliva between your lips and his digits, with feather-like touch, he grazes between your lower lips, his eyes hungrily eyeing your pussy that is already glistening with arousal.
You swallow an impatient moan, but you subtly wiggle your hips, urging him to press harder.
"So impatient." He chuckles and stills your hips with his other hand, the leather glove providing a new and exciting sensation. You jolt as his fingers suddenly press your clit, rubbing it in painfully slow motion, but you can't move your hips to stimulate yourself more, your small whines showing your frustration.
"What is it, princess?" Xavier innocently asks. "Don't you like it when I’m gentle?"
A sigh leaves your lips. "I do... Lumiere. You're so gentle and sweet." As much as you want to beg for him to touch you more, take you right now, you want to provoke him even more.
So he continues with the teasing - grazing your clit, going around your dripping entrance for a few more minutes before finally slipping one finger inside, a moan slipping from your lips, making his hard cock twitch. He slips it in and out a few times before the second finger joins. The front of his pants is becoming unbearably tight as he listens to your beautiful moans when his finger curl hitting that sweet spot inside you, his mouth salivating at the sight of your wet pussy being finger fucked by him, so he latches his lips onto your bundle of nerves.
Your eyes roll back as he does so, your hand finding purchase in his fluffy hair, but you still can't move your hips as he is firmly holding you, his hand pressing your lower belly. He got you so worked up with all the teasing that you're starting to feel the heat pooling in your pussy, your leg muscles twitching as you try to meet the thrusts of his fingers.
You only manage to whisper Lumi-, before suddenly both his fingers and lips pull away, a frustrated whine leaving your lips as you were so close to cumming.
Xavier gives you a self-satisfied smirk "I'm just taking it nice and slow with my princess." and then he pushes you further onto the bed and flips you over on your stomach, propping your ass up. He silently sighs in relief behind you as he unzips and frees his throbbing cock.
You arch your back as you feel the cockhead swiping between your folds, and just when you're about to move, that gloved hand stops you by your lower back. You bite the pillow in annoyance and let him take his sweet time, the tip teasingly slipping in and out.
He bends your leg, spreading you out more for him, and lies down on top of you, his clothed body putting oppressing weight on top of your completely naked form. His hot breath tickles your ear and the gloved hand wraps around your neck, making you look up at him "Were you gonna say something, bunny?"
Your pussy flutters around his tip, and you open your mouth to beg him to just fuck you, to let you cum, but you stay silent and swallow thickly, and you only shake your head.
He hums in amusement and lets go of your neck to prop his weight on his hands as he starts moving his hips. With shallow thrusts he slowly eases himself inside you, he lets out a choked groan as your walls clench around him when he bottoms out.
You mewl into the pillow as his hips roll at a languid pace, and you flinch when his fingers find your clit, pinching it and rubbing small circles. You can move your hips now, but he's set on being "gentle" and all you can do is whine and moan underneath him as his slow strokes make you cream around his cock, the delayed orgasm flaring up again.
(Un)fortunately for you, Xavier knows your body too well, and just as you thought you could cum without a warning, he completely pulls out and his hand leaves your tender bud.
You groan into the pillow "Xavier!"
"Oh?" his voice is clear and composed, but you don't see him shutting his eyes as he's squeezing his tip with his hand. In a few seconds he calms down and leans over you, whispering in your ear "I thought you wanted Lumiere... "
You were so desperate to cum you didn't notice that you dropped your sweet innocent act.
He flips you on your back, pushing your legs up by the back of your knees, with his heavy cock just resting between your swollen folds.
He swats away your hand when you reach down to put it back inside, but presses his thumb on your needy clit, making you squirm at the contact.
“Please…” You pant.
“Hm?” He cocks an eyebrow “Who are you talking to, my little bunny?”
You whimper as your bud is neglected yet again “Xavier… Just fuck m- !” You don’t finish the sentence and Xavier completely buries his dick inside, then pulling back almost completely before shoving it back inside, and you cry out in pleasure as his cock pounds into you with the vigorous pace that you desperately needed.
The heat rushes through your body, head dizzy, but you muster enough strength to sit up and grab Xavier by the back of his neck, slipping off the ear cuff, wrapping your arms and legs around him, needing to feel his whole weight on top of you as he mercilessly pounds into you.
His hips falter for a moment, but he continues at the same pace - angling his hips to keep hitting your sensitive spot while his pelvis slaps against your swollen pearl. His arms wrap around your torso and he pulls you into a sloppy, wet kiss.
Right before the waves of your orgasm overtake you pant Xavier, Xavier, Xavier against his lips, and with your pulsing walls around his girth, he thrusts deep inside, filling up your pussy as he moans my love in your ear.
The two of you lie there, wrapped into each other’s arms, your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck, hips still moving to help the other come down from their high.
When he pulls out, you notice your mixed fluids all over his white pants. “I think those pants are ruined.” You comment and then your eyes squint at him “Was that your plan all along?”
He avoids your gaze, impish smile on his lips. “Maybe.”
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*Passion Star Martini - upcoming fic
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spencerscoven · 15 days
Text
the alternate … art donaldson
Art has a proclivity for giving attention to his enemy. He hates her— but particularly hates how she has Patrick wrapped around her finger even more.
warnings ; smut .. slutty drunk freshman art x Patrick's gf, infidelity .. unedited for now! oops!
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It didn’t take much time for Art to settle into Cornell— it wasn’t just the tennis or the girls, of which he quickly learned were rather women, or even the academics. His hesitation on his attendance was especially foolish, especially in moments like these as he rolled over, crushing the red solo up beneath him. The buzzing in his jean pocket persisted, just like it had for the last five minutes before, causing him to utter another affirmation to ignore it into her mouth.
Maybe the women had one or two things to do with it.
"Maybe just get it?"
"Why?"
"So you... can tell them you're busy."
He hummed into her mouth as the girl above him detached herself, moving to grab the stitch of her top to remove it as he tilted his hips to reach for his phone.
Patrick.
His calloused hands came up to push her thighs over his hips, sitting up to read the rapid series of text Patrick had sent. And Art soon saw— was still sending. All of them ranged from different ways of him asking Art to check up on you, letting your attendance be known. Patrick's texts detailed the simple request of him checking to see if you were taking your alcohol well. Another saying he hoped you wouldn't get roofed. And one that blatantly asked that he didn't let any of "those Ivy League assholes" fuck his girlfriend.
Art rolled his eyes, resentment laced in his actions as he muttered condolences and pledged to "be right back", his large hands taking the knob of the door and peering out into the dark hallway to find you. When a look wasn't enough, he left the room door slightly ajar, stepping completely into the hallway filled with red cups, colored lights, almost sidetracked by his team that pulled him by the neck and fought to put a drink in his hand. With a light smile still gracing his face and beer in a can, his eyes wondered up to your face, watching as your lips wrapped around a bottle of Corona, some leaking out the side of which you swiped away with the back of your hand. He felt the same kind of resentment he usually felt when he saw you when Patrick visited fill him from his chest out. He watched as you leaned against the wall talking to someone. He took in your skimpy skirt and top with less resentment, though.
He especially didn't like it when the next time he looked for your face, you were staring at him, eyes hooded and smile nasty and condescending.
"He told me to look for you."
"I know." You raised your eyebrow dismissively, almost wanting to laugh at Patrick's good intentions. He knew what you'd say about Art. Just like you assumed what Art said about you, yet he asked him anyway.
"And by that, he means look after you." Art leans in, lips close to your ear as the music sounded. You roll your eyes as he lingers there a moment too long and you expect him to say something more, but he never does.
"We both know I look fine."
It takes a beat before he responds. "We both do."
"And we both know you don't want to babysit."
"But I'm a good friend."
"I've known corrupt politicians that are better friends than you, Art."
He sways away from you, facing the rest of the party as he rolls his eyes with the kind of insularity he only reserved for you, tipping his head back to finish the rest of his beer and tossing it towards the trashcan, only to miss.
He turns to you, irritation flaring as he stabilizes himself on the sticky wall behind him by holding your hips. It's something you're willing to let go of, your breath clicking as he whispers: "You smell like pot."
"It's a free country."
"Okay," he challenges, pursing his lips as he leans closer. "What's in your cup?"
"What? Yours and Chelsea's not good enough for you?"
His upper lip raises, in a look of both disgust and toleration as he grasps your wrist, forcing you to bring your own bottle to his mouth. The contents of it are mostly able to be swallowed but the rest flow from the corners of his lips, down his chin, to his throat where his Adams apple bobs as he swallows. You wipe it instinctively, causing you to both freeze for only a moment. He shutters before he opens his mouth again to slur,
"Chelsea?"
You look at him quizzically, your mouth opening once, twice, three times, only to say nothing but erupt in laughter that rocks your head backwards and your body closer to his. Art looks around frantically, his mouth tilting downwards as he looks around, grasping your hips forward and gritting his teeth as he repeats himself.
"Chelsea? What's the fucking joke I'm not getting?"
"The girl that you just— my fucking god, Art. I know you look the way you do, but you couldn't even remember her name?" You tilt your head towards the doorway, insinuating the room you're sure his cologne still lingered in. He groans, his head falling forward in a laugh as his right hand on your hip runs up the side of your torso, his head spinning.
"I'm not a very good date, am I?" You can nearly taste the alcohol on his tongue and you're out of laughs, humor gone as a consequence of being so close to him. And maybe he's too drunk to realize it's happening, but you're too cross to care when his thumbs rub circles on your hipbone, of which he had to invade underneath your waistband to do.
"I almost finished my night like this." It's so quiet that you're unsure if it was for you to hear. But it doesn't matter, as your hand runs up his arm and shoulders, eyes following over the ripples.
"This is not the same."
Your other hand trickles down to his waistband, guiltily skating over his bulge as you feel his pocket for his phone.
"Arthur, Patrick told you to check on me. So, tell him I'm okay."
"I told him that I'd check on you. I also told him you were a bad idea, like I always do," He saws it lowly, as if it's not supposed to slip out and has only found it's way because of his level of intoxication. You scoff, pushing him backwards as you're suddenly slightly more sober. You rock back and forth, eyes rolling back, but the distance is not created before you can hear him finish: "but I never said he didn't have good taste."
You don't like that it's still said in the way only drunk and resentful Art could deliver it. "You're not a very good fucking friend."
"To who, you?" He makes it his personal duty to invade your space, his face in somewhat of a snarl. You know that some would see this as uncharacterized for Art, but it's most familiar to you. It feels somewhat like home. Albeit, a house fire, but home.
Your first encounter with him was glancing behind yourself at move in, and seeing his blonde locks brushed back by calloused hands as he looked at you, then to your racket.
Your second encounter was only minutes later, when he stood next to his raven haired friend who asked for your number as he rolled his eyes with a knot in his jaw, as if he didn't find you worthy. He tugged on the shirt of his friend, telling him there were better things to do. Better, he had said.
And that never made much sense to you. Because in your relationship with Patrick, there had always been the inconsequential three.
"You're not my friend," You begin, mind calculating how many rooms and doors of Cornell's largest final club you'd have to go before finding somewhere, anywhere, that would fit just you. "Never was."
Art's only silent for a moment, nose flaring and eyes squinting. his shoulders are tense, and if you were to look down you'd see his hand balled in a fist.
"What? What now, Art?"
"You never gave me your number."
He watches as your eyes furrow in confusion, the heat in your eyes rising rather than deflating. Without your bottle, your hands search for something to do. They resort to touching yourself in the same places he just had, your fingers running down your torso quickly, your hip bone. When you touch your shoulder is when the two of your gazes meet once again. Art watches through blue as you nod your head slowly in both horror and understanding.
You're quick on your feet. He's watched countless of your matches, even when he had no business doing so. But he is too. So when a short string of curses land out of your mouth and you march down the hallway, he's on your heels.
And all you can think is that you know his gaze better than any other. It wasn't something you intended but through these sporadic games, your body and soul had bargained to be familiar with Art more than any other. If he leaned against the net or lunch table, it became the kind of resourcefulness of movement that was so particularly him. It was rare you called on him, yet necessary when it was a matter of Patrick. He was always there, steadfast and urgent. It'd be days before you learned of the lecture he missed because of it. And while your boyfriend was off being a pro, he never was slow to tell you how good his female counterparts around him were, while you were "only barely whopping college ass".
But somehow he was always there. You found his gels and handle tape in your tennis bag. You had more than half your dining points still because you were just "a casualty of being present” when he was buying his own lunch. And it all made you feel as if he was just very...
"You're a fucking con artist," You shoved him against the door of which he only narrowly made it "A fucking wolf in sheep's clothing."
It made you even angrier that he was stronger than you but willing to let his body fall back, lips pierced in a thin obedient line as his back hit the door repeatedly under your assault until he grasped both your forearms, holding them closely together. A wince escaped your mouth, his strength relenting and becoming lighter but still he held you. He leaned down, attempting to meet your face that now focused on the hardwood below.
"I know I'm the bad guy. Still, what's it gonna be?"
You didn't look up at that. But you did at the vibration that sounded in his pocket just seconds later. There were always three.
Art doesn't waste a moment to release your arms, wrapping his own in an enclosure around your head to reach your lips, tugging you impossibly close to him. You can't help but not move-- letting him twist your head and invade your lips. It's only until you release a small moan you latch back.
After Art's kiss, your night was haunted. It was distorted beyond your eyes' power of correction. So when a pair of lips landed on yours again, you came back home. You gave in.
His hands ran down your body, invading each and every corner of you. Your hips, your waist, the small of your back, the back of your thighs which he used to hoist your body upwards and against the doorframe, caging you. As the wet kisses sound on your neck, you look past his head to the room you two now occupied, no bed. Just various pieces of miscellaneous covered in cream sheets. When you look towards the window, releasing another whimper as you feel his middle and index finger prod at your cotton panties, you can see dust aligning with the moonlight.
Like everything else he does, he's good at the way he touches you. No, nearly instinctual. Art's fingers curve and level themselves out inside of you, yet he leaves his palms frigid, rubbing your clit back and forth with the surface of it. It makes you all so weak, Art murmuring your name as the two of you lower to the floor, you're suddenly reminded of the urgency of the matter.
"Art, I need--"
"I know,"
I know,
I know,
I know.
He repeats the sentiment into your skin and it almost makes your eyes brim with tears as you feel his bulge covered by denim slot against your soaked underwear. The feeling is delicious, so you excuse your decorum when you buck your hips against his. You watch as he detaches himself from you, the depth of his blonde hair twinkling in the moonlight. His lips and chin are swollen and wet from your messy kisses that appeared to be more tongue than anything. He lifts your hips to remove your skirt on his own once he catches the way your eyes watch him, still. He looks at you, sick with the same fever, but now you're not quite sure what this illness even is.
His hands move to tug your shirt up, yet you push his hands away, making them double up on his belt as both of you scramble to slide his jeans below his ass. You also help him when he leans to grab your right leg, sliding it up and against his hip as he sways above you. You watch as he thinks, only for a moment, places a feather right kiss on your knee, whispers something you can't hear, and promptly shoves his dick inside of you.
The force of it slams your head against the door, the hinges rattling but the surprise of his size makes it so you hardly notice. You close your eyes immediately until you're struck with the realization that you hope this never happens again. You hope you're never drunk enough, or lucky enough to have your boyfriend's best friend's dick rocking you back and forth ever again. You near your eyes open, willing to at least let yourself savor what little you have now, gazing in the middle of you two where you can see him disappear inside of you repeatedly.
Art huffs above you as your name escape his lips repeatedly as if it hadn't been the first time. You find yourself unable to cope, grabbing the hardwood until you realize there's not much give. So you resort to firmly biting his shoulder between your gasps and yelps. which only surges him on to drive into you faster, his hips snapping and the sounds of both your flesh filling the room.
You feel his clammy hand reach for the hair at the nape of your neck and you allow yourself to submissively follow regardless of your confusion. Art's breath mingles with yours as he asks:
"Is it good?"
You don't answer.
"Does it feel good?"
Your brows furrow together as you nod your head up and down as if you’ve been doped, chest heaving uncontrollably. He meets your lips and it feels as if he's kissing you solely for himself as he drags his hand on your cheeks and forehead, ridding your face of your sweat and hair. His other hand circulates your clit with a firm hold and you feel the familiar sensation approaching. Your skin felt both as cold and hot as it ever had, your teeth penetrating your bottom lip, biting Art in the process.
"I don't think we should do this.." You spit out quietly in intervals, because it feels like the right thing to say right before you come all over his cock and he leans down to look at the mess you've made in bliss. The results that it gives are fruitful, as you feel his fingers' relentlessness on your clit still. But you can tell he's struggling to stay where he is, trying to milk every moment he can inside of you.
You use your feet to push his hips back, arms reaching above your head as you untangle your limbs. Your legs remain sprawled out on his thighs, of which lay on his calves. The silence between you two is like molasses, and he stares at your core as you brush your socked toes against his abdomen, then cock.
You see a frown form on his face, but you're also met with the needy repeated rise of his hips that meet your foot and help you grind against him. You watch in awe as his eyes don't leave yours, confusion filling the air. You bring your feet faster, rubbing against his tip and watch as Art's whimper fills the air and his cum shoots to his lower stomach and your sock, his eyes closing, throat repeatedly bobbing as he rides his high. You watch as the thrusts into you become increasingly slower until they stop completely and the two of you are left still once again. You marvel in the way it seems almost as if he always gets what he wants. And Art isn't quite sure of what to make of you at all anymore, with his ears ringing and chest warm.
On his knees, he cascades towards your body that slumps against the door frame. He moves towards you slowly at first, hesitating if you wanted any of this at all. But you don't decline the warmth of his chest as he pulls you in, wordlessly. You let him bury his nose to your scalp as he takes you in.
And you both agree that if this may be a story of tonight alone, you both might as well melt indistinguishably into it once again.
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snickerdoodlles · 4 months
Text
one of my most formative fandom experiences was a comment i had gotten on a fic i wrote for a halloween themed fandom event.
this was for a manga/anime, so the fic was a general ghost story obviously set in Japan. the beginning of it involved a pizza delivery and while writing it, i had spent like 30 minutes just double checking tipping customs and the types of pizza they serve and even fell down a wikipedia rabbit hole looking up the history of pizza in Japan.
now, i just like the research part of writing, i do stuff like this because i have fun doing it. and while i was writing this particular fic, i had laughed at myself for my 30 minutes of googling that amounted to 2.5 offhand lines in a 3500 word fic. i didn't think anyone would care about or even notice those particular details except for me, especially since none of them were relevant to the ghost part of this ghost story.
except, when i had sent this fic to a Japanese friend, the first thing she said to me about it was "OH MY GOD YOU GOT THE PIZZA RIGHT"
and that was the moment when it had really clicked for me. what had just been 30 minutes of effort on my part had become a moment of relief for her. my friend was far more used to reading ethnocentric fic that ranged from unintentional ignorance to outright superiority against part of her culture (the original story's culture no less). and even with the "innocent" ignorance (heavy quotes on that) far outstripping any outright maliciousness, that's still so many people saying her culture was not worth learning about. the pizza in my story was a small detail, but i had cared enough to put in some effort to check it. and for her, coming from a fic experience where her norm was bracing for hundreds of inaccuracies born of ignorance, especially at that time after a flood of stories centered around "Halloween as a cultural holiday in the US" premises instead of the "Halloween is a commercial gimmick in Japan" reality, seeing someone put in some effort even for minor story details meant something to her.
this also throws me back to the discourse that arose in a french show fandom a few years ago because there were a lot of fic authors that wrote 'dollars' instead of 'euros'-- but when people brought this up as a prevalent issue across the fandom but an easy one to fic/watch out for, many of these writers instead pushed back to complain that they were posting stories for free and it wasn't that big of a deal. which really upset a lot of people, but then this upset was met with a new wave of indignation that people needed to 'get over it' because they're writing fic ~just as a hobby~. but, even if 'dollars' instead of 'euros' wasn't a big deal, by digging in their heels about the issue, they were saying "your culture isn't worth even five minutes of my time or effort."
I've been thinking about these things lately because the ethnocentrism in Thai drama fandoms is...staggering. just over the turn of the year, there were waves of Christmas fic for Buddhist characters. and just. Christmas in Thailand is a tourist thing at best. sometimes a pop culture gimmick for international audiences or maybe an offhand high school thing to blow off steam between midterms. it's not a cultural thing. and even if a character is a part of the Christian minority, a Christian Thai's holiday customs and culture are going to be vastly different than a Christian's customs in the Americas or Europe. and while the Christmas fic is at least finished for now, I'm already bracing myself for the Easter fic wave that also seems to pop up for Thai dramas. it's so frustrating to see this sort of cultural overwrite all the time, especially since most Thai drama holiday works aren't about Thai holidays.
but the thing that really got me bristling about all of this again was i saw a post the other day where op said that they weren't going to write [thai drama] fic because they don't know much about thailand.
what an absolutely appalling statement to make.
google is right there. wikipedia is free. you don't even have to leave tumblr or AO3 to learn more because there are Thai natives in fandom who write essays to explain common elements of their culture. hell, even just watching these Thai stories and considering the values and messages imparted by the narrative framework and story lens tells you something about that culture. the audacity to look at a culture different from your own and say "this is not worth my effort or time to learn anything more about," are you kidding me?!?
the messages and values of a story tell you about the writer's values, which are going to carry their cultural values, beliefs, and biases. Thai culture is going to be heavily relevant to any Thai story, even the ones that aren't explicitly about Thai culture/customs/etc. (hell, Thai bl/gl as a genre alone-- just the fact that queer Thai writers are making these stories in Thailand's current political climate is highly political, even the "fluffy" ones that don't seem to make outright political statements.) to approach any story like it was made in a vacuum is to remove the writer(s)' culture and values and to overwrite them with your own.
especially because this is fandom. these are the lowest stakes to learn! it sucks to see people say things like "but i'm scared i'll get something wrong" and hold up that fear as a shield to justify their ignorance. no one's expecting anyone to get every detail right, especially not for a culture that isn't theirs, just make an effort to learn something new about it. pick out something that caught your eye as different to learn more about and see where it leads you.
and for the record--making a mistake trying to broaden your horizons is a far, far better thing to do than to superimpose your culture on everyone else's because you're scared to confront your ignorance.
edit: check out this reblog thanks
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fatuismooches · 2 years
Note
Could you please write about the Harbingers and their voice lines for the reader? Like them telling the traveler about you and stuff :)
♡𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬’ 𝐕𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ♡
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synopsis: The Traveler expected the Harbingers to be cold and ruthless in pursuing whatever the Fatui's goals were. Hearing their loving voice lines on you was certainly the opposite of what they predicted.
includes: all harbingers (platonic pulcinella) w/ gn! reader
notes: I've wanted to do something like this for a while. It was rather cute and fun to write! Includes five voice lines about you for each Harbinger.
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Pierro:
About You - His Lover:
“So you’ve already met [Name], Traveler? I’m not surprised, they like to talk to people, especially when they see me speaking to others. They’re quite energetic and bouncy, aren’t they? But I can’t say I dislike that about them. They are a bright light in my life.”
Chat - Walks:
“Much of our time spent together is on walks outside in Sneznhaya, with the snow gently melting on us. It’s a rather simple activity to most, but irreplaceable to both of us. I hope, after everything is said and done, I can take them on walks in other places.”
About Your Patience:
“They never comment on it, but I know they get lonely without me. For most of the day, they do not see me due to my work, and even when they try to stay up late for my return, they end up falling asleep sometimes. I truly wish I could spend more time with them. But I know, after fulfilling the Tsaritsa’s dream, I will give them everything and more.”
Something To Share - Meals:
“I don’t think about what I eat or when I do very often. It doesn’t matter much to me, but [Name] clearly disagrees. Instead of the maids preparing my meals, they started cooking everything for me and adding little notes too. It’s very endearing of them, but I don’t think I’ll ever live it down when the other soldiers saw me eating heart-shaped cookies with smiley faces on them…”
About You - A Second Home:
“I remember the destruction of my homeland clearly. It is something I will never forget. But even though I have only a small portion of time with them, they never fail to make me feel… content. With them, I can forget about everything, even if it is just for a few minutes. Heh, sometimes I foolishly wish they lived in Khaenri’ah with me for a bit, if only to experience a normal life with them.”
Capitano:
About You - His Lover:
“There is nothing I cherish more than [Name]. Many people often comment on our relationship, after all, we are quite different in all aspects. But I have them to thank for many things. They have taught me many things I could have never learned on my own.
Chat - Souvenirs:
“Traveler, you have been to many nations for extended periods of time. Would you share some items that would make good souvenirs? I always make sure to bring something back for them. If you have any recipes to share, that would be greatly appreciated as well. Whenever I am back home, [Name] always insists on having all of our meals together.”
A Special Item - The Kamera:
“You must be wondering why someone like me carries around something like this. I never cared for the device until [Name] told me about it and asked me to take photos on my expeditions. I guess I’ve unintentionally become a master without knowing it because they always praise the pictures I take when they organize them in their scrapbook.”
Something To Share - Smiles:
“I am not adept at smiling at all, or very expressive in general, something [Name] has an issue with. Oftentimes, they sit on my lap and try to get me to show some emotion on my face. Reading stories, telling jokes… they try it all quite frequently. While I don’t think it’s working very well, I enjoy their antics.”
About You - Reminiscing:
“I remember once I walked in on them trying on my helmet and coat. They hadn’t noticed me yet, and I couldn’t help but notice how small they looked buried under my clothes. But quickly I worried about whether their head could take the weight of my helmet. Before I could say anything, they saw me and scurried away in embarrassment. I never brought it up again, but it was rather cute.”
“Huh… Paimon would have never guessed Capitano was like this. When we go to Snezhnaya, we have to find this guy’s mansion somehow! Paimon wants to meet [Name]!”
Columbina:
About You - Her Lover:
“Hmm~hmm~♫ Oh, hello there, Traveler. Ah, I see you’ve brought [Name] with you too, come here, my dear. Hmm? Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you. They are my partner in love, music, in everything. Perhaps you should come to one of our shows one day. I’d say we are quite good.”
About You - Favorite Pastimes:
“I love going to watch plays with them. The theater is one of the places where we spend a lot of time. I always end up humming along to the songs. Sometimes, when the theater is unoccupied, we act out certain scenes together. Say, Traveler, have you ever heard of Romeo and Juliet?”
Chat - Naps:
“Hmm… what time is it? The weather just feels perfect for a midday nap. [Name] always indulges me whenever I want when I want to doze off. This surface is no match for their pillowy softness, but it’ll have to do for now…”
“Hey, you can’t just fall asleep in the middle of- oh… Paimon doesn’t know how she can knock out that quickly.”
Secret Hobby - Poems About You:
“Your bright smile that can go on for a mile,
Unmatchable style with a laugh that never ends for a while.
Sweet lips that I want to savor,
Ah, I am so glad I am in your favor.
Or should I say “For you make me ever the more braver”...? What do you think, Traveler?”
Something Interesting - Liyue Opera:
“Traveler, I hear that there is a talented opera troupe in Liyue with beautiful music and songs. Oh, you’ve met them yourself? I would love to attend it with [Name]. They love listening to music from around Teyvat, and I have to agree with them. Haha… I can’t wait to take them out of Snezhnaya for a bit.”
Dottore:
About You - His Lover:
“Hmph, you wish to know about [Name], I hear?”
“Yeah! Paimon wants to know what kind of person would stay with a madman- I mean! A Fatui Harbinger! You know, since that’s quite dangerous and all.”
“Hehe, is that so? Too bad, because I have no obligation to tell you. But they are truly… ah, never mind.”
“Aww… Paimon really wanted to know what he was going to say.”
About You And The Segments:
“Some of the segments are quite fond of them, while some do not know them very well. After all, they were cloned at different parts of my life, before and after I met them. I must say… it’s can be hard to get some of the other segments away from them. I didn’t think they would hoard [Name]’s attention so much…”
“Is it just Paimon, or does Dottore’s attentiveness towards them grow as each clone gets older? And hey, is Dottore jealous-”
“Shush Paimon, before he hears you!”
About You - Whereabouts:
"It's time for their medicine... Hmm, have you seen them, Traveler? You saw them leave and go into the city? And you didn't stop them? Tch, useless. I must simply go and find them myself... Now that I think about it, I wouldn't want you talking to [Name], anyway."
About You - Health Concerns:
“Ever since our Akademiya days, [Name] has been plagued with an unknown and virtually incurable disease. It is essential that they take their medicine every day, but they often try to avoid it, after doing it for so long. This is why I and the clones always keep an eye on them.”
“Aw, so that’s why [Name] always looks so tired whenever Paimon sees them… That must be so hard.”
“… I don’t care what methods or tactics I have to employ, or if the Gods or even you, Traveler, get in my way. I will cure them of their sickness. Nothing will stop me.”
When The Sun Is Out:
“Hm, it’s a perfect day for [Name] to take a walk. The fresh air is always good for their health. Perhaps a boat ride is in order as well.”
“Oooh, Paimon loves the sound of that! Maybe we can fish and eat it too!”
“Why would I ever invite you to be with us? I’m sure your very existence would give them a headache.”
“Hey, how rude!!”
Pulcinella:
About You - Relationship:
“You were fighting some hilichurls when someone called [Name] joined you? And they ended up lighting an explosive barrel? Wherever that child goes, they always bring trouble with them. But don’t hold it against them. They are a lovely person to be around.”
Stories To Tell:
“They always pester me to tell them stories. Though, this is not a bad thing at all. Not many are willing to listen to this old man ramble on willingly. Ah, youth is a wonderful thing. Would you like to join us next time, Traveler?”
Chat - New Things:
“Indeed, they have taught me many things. The latest trends, songs, books, and more that their generation is into. Sometimes I struggle to understand some of what they say too… the world is changing so quickly.”
About You - Baking:
“We bake together quite often. Most of the time, I have to direct them, otherwise, they will burn down the kitchen which has happened multiple times before. Pantalone was not happy. I have never seen a youngster with such little aptitude for cooking, but surprisingly, it is great fun.”
About You - Family:
“Ever since they were young, they were quite rebellious. Running away from the castle, pretending to be asleep after bedtime, beating up all the Fatui soldiers during sparring without hesitance. If anyone else besides me had to take care of them, it would not have ended well. But, I am truly glad they are in my care. I have thought of them as my own child for a long time. If it wasn’t for the possible danger, I’d have officially adopted them long ago.”
Scaramouche:
About You - His Lover:
“Huh? How do you know about [Name]?”
“Well, we just happened to see them with you once. You were actually smiling! And later we went up and spoke to them for a bit, and they were really nice! They told us that they were your-”
“Ugh, that idiot! Always trusting people so blindly… Anyway, I don’t need you to know anything else. It isn’t your business.” 
A Little Secret:
“I wonder if they could make dango for me again… it’s been a long time since I’ve had it. But how do I get them to make it without directly asking? How bothersome… huh? How long have you been there, Traveler? You didn’t hear anything, did you?!”
Something To Share - Burdened Feelings:
“I once tried to wipe my emotions and feelings of them away into nothingness. It felt preposterous to me that I could feel something for a human, one that could barely fight nonetheless. But when I lost the Gnosis, when I lost everything, as I fell down, the only thing that I saw in my mind was their stupid smile…”
When It Rains:
“Whenever it rained, they would always huddle themselves close to me under my hat. At first, I pushed them away, but the look on their face made me allow them to continue. Sometimes, I make sure to take them out on a day that’s expected to rain just to see them do that. Don’t you dare tell them that though, Traveler.”
About Beelzebul:
“[Name] is always telling me to reconcile with her, but what would she think of me, or of them? How would she act toward me? Would she even remember me? There’s that irritating shrine maiden too… Hmm? It’s nothing. Let’s keep moving.”
Arlecchino:
About You - Her Lover:
“[Name]? Yes, they are my partner. I suppose those Fatui recruits can’t keep their mouths shut about other people’s business for very long. Hmm? You’re surprised that I was so direct about it? Well, there’s no reason to hide it. But I would prefer that this discussion ends here. I like to keep my time with them private.”
When It’s Sunny:
“This weather is not my favorite. I prefer the cold much more than this blistering heat. But I did hear [Name] say that they would like to visit a beach someday. Hmm… say, Traveler, is Yaoguang Shoal a good spot?”
Something To Share - Quietly Loving:
“I’m sure you have realized by now that I am not very good with words or emotions. These things are far from my expertise. However, they seem to not mind my behavior, talking enough for both of us. But if they ever requested anything from me, I would do it without hesitance. No one else comes close.”
Chat - Coffee:
“One cup of coffee, with whipped cream, syrup, and sugar please.”
“…Eh?!! Arlecchino, what are you saying? You always order your coffee black!”
“I know. To be honest, I could not care less about all these extra ingredients. But… they always used to try and add things to sweeten the drink behind my back. I suppose I… miss them. This reminds me of them, a bit.”
“Aww… Paimon guesses that even the scariest and coldest of people can have someone special to them.”
About You - The Orphanage:
“They often spend their time with the orphans. I was initially surprised at first, and so were the other soldiers, but it worked out in our favor. The children love them far more than they will for me or the recruits. [Name] is a gentle and patient soul, after all. Reading stories, putting the kids to sleep… they are quite hard working despite having no need to.”
La Signora:
About You - Her Lover:
“My darling [Name] is the most perfect lover one could ask for. They are beautiful, inside and out. How I love to pamper them so… actually, there are a couple of new outfits I want them to try on. I can’t wait to see how they look. They are all mine.”
When It’s Windy:
“Tch, this wind is messing up my hair and clothes. [Name] used to always brush and take care of my hair after a long day, after I showed them how to do it correctly of course. Traveler, I’m afraid I have to go now. I must see them again.”
About You - Letters:
“Hmm, hmm, hmm… and it’s done.”
“Hey Signora, what are you writing?”
“Just a letter to my dearest. They are expecting something from me soon.”
“Wow, so you can send letters with your fire moths? That’s resourceful!”
“Of course. I always let a few stay around [Name] as well. If any of them happen to be extinguished, I’ll know if anything happened to them.”
About You - Favorite Pastimes:
“There’s nothing that pleases me more than seeing them all dolled up in the latest fashion. They look simply exquisite, especially when we do each other’s makeup. But I also adore seeing them lounge around in their favorite hoodies. They look great in anything, really.”
Something To Share - Past Grief, New Happiness:
“Sometimes, it feels just like yesterday when I lost him. Grief and bitterness wrapped around my heart like a cocoon that would never hatch. But when I fell in love with them, I felt something that I had not felt in far too long. That cocoon started to shatter little by little, as I started to remember how to love again. I truly love them wholly with whatever’s remaining of my heart.”
Pantalone:
About You - His Lover:
“So, you’ve met [Name], I hear. What do you think of them? Beautiful, am I right? Of course, they are nothing short of perfection to me. Hardworking, determined, helpful… I could go on about them. Say, Traveler, would you be so kind to direct me to some of the best shops around here? I would like to find some gifts to send to them while we’re here.”
Worries - Financial Concerns:
“Traveler, I have a great issue on my hands. [Name] has apparently forbidden me from spending any more Mora on them. They keep saying that they do not need anything else, but how can I restrain myself from spoiling my darling?”
About You - Favorite Pastimes:
“Oftentimes, we like to end off the day with some leisurely reading. The feeling of them laying against my chest, legs intertwined, as I whisper certain parts of the book softly into their ear, delighting as they turn warm- oho, your face is all red. Did I make you embarrassed? Apologies, I get carried away when talking about them.”
About You - First Meeting:
“My childhood is not something that I like to remember. But, despite everything, it is pleasant to think about the first time I met them. They were poor, just like me, barely scraping by, though they never failed to greet me every day with a big smile. [Name] would take over the grueling working shifts for me and the younger kids sometimes, and sneak bits of food out the window to me. Even with the fact that I was surrounded by poverty, I couldn’t help but think I had a true gem right in front of me. ”
When It’s Cold:
“I confess, I do enjoy the cold, but most of it is due to how adorable [Name] looks all bundled up in my fur coats. Or how they always dive under the covers and refuse to get up for anything. It is always a struggle for even me to get up from bed when they are so warm, too.”
Sandrone:
About You - Her Lover:
“They are my loyal assistant and lover, always willing to help out with any experiment I ask. I have known them for a very long time. They have always been the one to drag me out of the lab to get some fresh air… as a matter of fact, I think it’s about this time when they come to harass me. Somehow they’ve gotten half the robots on their side, too.”
When It’s Raining:
“This weather is good for testing how waterproof my robots are and the joints of my Automatons. A long time ago, I built a feature for an umbrella into some of my creations so whenever [Name] and I went for walks and it rained, we would be fine. Huh, you’re asking if you can use it? No, you can’t.”
About You - Favorite Pastimes:
“Eh? Sandrone, what is all this? You’re all dressed up!”
“Oh, it’s you. I’m simply preparing for my favorite event with my dear lover. We’ve just finished repairing an ancient Automaton, and they’ve decided a tea party is in order.”
“Wow! Even the robots have spiffy suits on! It smells so good here too, hehe, Paimon wants a taste of the tea and cookies too- w-woah! Where’d all these big robots come from?! Hey, let Paimon down!”
“This is for [Name] and I only. Now shoo. The tea party is set to begin soon, and I must welcome my honored guest…”
Inspiration - New Creations:
“Before I met them, I had never thought of using my skills to create mundane things that weren’t war machines or destructive Automatons. I thought anything else would be a waste of time, but surprisingly, it is not too bad. It’s quite nice to feel their fascinated face in the crook of my neck while I work. I usually gift these creations to them, anyway. They’re not much use to me, but [Name] likes these kinds of things.”
The Future - Fontaine Frenzy:
“I hear that I am set to head out to Fontaine soon. I would love to see the faces of those poor souls when they realize their technology is nothing compared to what the Fatui has created. Ah, I guess that means I’ll be seeing you there too. Will you be able to keep up with [Name] and I, Traveler? I must warn you, they are a formidable foe, with their refined skill and raw power from my mechanical attachments. Now that I think about there, there were some new weapons we wanted to try out… hehe, I can’t wait.” 
Childe:
About You - His Lover:
“Oho, interested in [Name] are you? I don’t blame you - they are truly an amazing person. Sweet, kind, and caring, not to mention, they are incredibly strong as well. Teucer loves them too, always wanting piggyback rides. I can’t wait to introduce them to the rest of my family.”
About You - First Meeting:
“I clearly remember the first time I laid eyes on them. I was passing through Liyue when I heard of an archery competition, and naturally, I was eager to test my skills. I was sure that I would win first place, but what did you know! Someone called [Name] had stolen that spot from me. Long story short, I pestered them until they fought me, and they really did beat me down. Haha, it feels so long ago, now that I look back on it.”
When It Snows:
“I once took [Name] to Dragonspine, because they wanted to see the snow as it was a rare occurrence in Liyue. You should have seen them, hah! Shaking and sniffling like it was the end of the world. And it wasn’t even that cold, as least compared to my homeland. Why didn’t I take them to Snezhnaya? Don’t worry, I plan to, very, very soon…
About You - Whereabouts:
"Have you seen them, Traveler? No? Haha, they must be hiding from me again. I guess I’ve asked them to spar too many times. Comrade, if you happen to see [Name], tell them I’m waiting at Northland Bank for them. Xinyue Kiosk, my treat.”
About You - Safety:
“Heh, I wonder what they’re doing right now. I hope they haven’t been roped into any strange commissions again. They are too helpful for their own good. If anything happened to them while I’m gone… Traveler, if you happen to be around, please help them. I’ll owe you, comrade.”
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vivian-pascal · 12 days
Text
Like a Prayer
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dbf!joel x f!reader
summary: Since you last saw Joel, he's been on your mind nonstop. You just can't get him out of your head. You miss him, and sure enough he misses you. So, you both plan something and decide to play a little game. (part two to Summer Love)
warnings: age gap, teasing, f!masturbating, dancing, fluff, piv (wrap it up) hand job, lil bit of sub!joel, joel cums fast, fingering, breast play, joel's dirty mouth, bit of feelings, breeding thoughts, lap grinding, description of what reader wears, reader is on birth control, aftercare
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"Ugh!" You slam your head against your bedroom door for the five thousandth time today. You just can't take it anymore. He's everywhere. The last time you saw him, you barely got to say good bye to him and you haven't seen him since.
Yes, he texts you, but that only makes it worse. He sends you the most teasing and crude messages that just make you yearn for him harder. It's been horrible, let alone for Joel.
He dreams about you almost every night. The sweet moans you let out for him, the touch of your soft fingertips on his rough body, the way you moved and whispered sighs into his ear.
He is so uncontrollably in love with you. Love? Love is something he'd never be in again. Especially with his best buds daughter, who, not to mention, is at least a good twenty years younger than him.
Your blasting 'As long as you love me' by the backstreet boys on loop and your dad keeps coming upstairs to check on you and see if you're mentally okay.
He cracks open the door and sees you with your forehead resting on the wall and your arms hanging down. "You alright honey?"
You turn your head and nod. You look back down at the ground and sigh loudly. "That doesn't sound like you're okay, sweetie." He walks over to you and turns the volume down on your radio.
You stand up and lift your head from the wall. "What are you doing?" He looks at you with confusion and a sarcastic look on his face. "Turning the volume..down?"
"No, dad, turn it back up." You cross your arms and give him a death stare. He only looks back at you and crosses his arms too. If you want to play, he'll play too. "No."
"And why not?" You quirk your eyebrow waiting for his 'good' reason on why he should turn your music down.
"Because, honey, i've been hearing that song on blast and loop, for the past, let me see." He lifts his arm up and checks his watch. "Two hours, and I can probably sing every single verse to that song. So, I think you should take a break from the music, or play a different tune."
You look at him with shock. How dare he? If he doesn't like The Backstreet Boys or that song, then he can go away. You were doing just fine with that song on blast and loop for the past two hours and he just ruined it.
"Or, I keep the song on, and keep it on blast for another two hours." You give him a sweet smile as you turn the volume back up, grab his arm and lead him to the door, pushing him out and shutting the door in his face.
You smile at your good work and go back to the spot on your wall. Listening to the lyrics and singing them in your head. Dreaming of Joel and only wishing he were here with you right now.
Just as your about to bang your head on the wall for another couple hours, your phone pings and you instantly go over and grab it. It's Joel.
Hey sugar
hi joel
Whatcha up too?
oh, you know, the usual
You set your phone down and plump onto your bed. You haven't seen Joel in so long its making you go insane. When you hear the ping from your phone, you read the message and your face goes red.
Hm, let me think, the usual, as in your knuckles deep in that sweet, creamy pussy thinking about me huh? Oh darlin'. Can't wait to just devour you whole once again, you taste so sweet f'me sugar, man you make me hard.
You slowly put your phone down, grab a pillow, and scream as loud as you possibly can. He can't make this anymore worse for you can he.
You stare at your phone as you rest your head on the pillow. You look at the message and read it over and over again. Your hand slowly tracing circles around your torso and then into the waistband of your underwear.
You circle your clit softly and sigh at the feeling. You imagine Joel as you soak in the feeling of pleasure.
You think back to when he had you pinned against the bathroom door while he shoved his face into your pussy. The feeling of his nose, his mouth, the way his tongue moved so perfectly. The scratch of his beard on your thighs. His hair, tugging it and hearing him groan into your core.
You arch your back as you begin to rub your clit faster. Sticking a finger into your pussy as you whimper at the feeling.
You just wish it were him doing this. His big, calloused hands would run along your beautiful frame, his fingers would go deep into your core and fill you up just right. He'd praise you like no other. Filling your ears with pure filth.
Your mouth goes agape as you come. Imagining Joel on top of you, resting his sweet little head on your shoulder as he pounded you to death.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You remove your hand from your panties and grab your phone.
"Sweetie?" Your dad calls from downstairs. "Yeah dad?" You open the texts from Joel and begin to type one up. "I'm going out with Todd and Jim, I'll be gone for about four hours, we're goin to a bar alright?" You smile cheekishly as you send your message. "Yeah, bye dad have fun! Love you!" You hear the door shut and you smile as fireworks go off in your head.
dads going out, come over now please
Desperate I see, I'm on my way babygirl.
You roll your eyes as you read his message. You get up and look out your window to make sure your dad is really gone. You then go out into your closet and pick your outfit.
You go with a skimpy, white dress that cuts off at the knees and a cute white bow in your hair. You smile as you twirl in the mirror.
You hear a knock on the door and immediately rush downstairs. You quickly make sure your dress looks good and fix your hair as you open the door. And there he is, in all his glory, Joel miller.
You gasp when you see him. It's been so long, too long. He smirks down at you. He's wearing his same old pair of jeans and a flannel.
"Well hello darlin'. Been quite some time." He grins as he sees your flustered state. You look him in the eyes with desperation and grab him by the collar. Pulling him into your face and smashing your lips together.
He stumbles as he walks inside with you and shuts the door. You let go of his lips and release his collar as you start to unbutton it. "Woah, woah, I didn't know you were this desperate hon, I would've come over a whole lot earlier."
You death stare him as you get on your knees and run a hand over his bulge. He groans and closes his eyes at the feeling. You throw off his flannel and unzip his jeans. He takes off his shoes and turns around to put them in the corner, when he looks back, his mouth drops.
Your there, in nothing but the sweet, little bow in your hair and your panties. His jaw tightens as he walks towards you and grabs your hips.
"Well don't you just look so yummy." You giggle as you smirks down at you. You walk over to the couch and grab his hand. He sits down with his legs wide as you sit on top of him.
You run your hands through his hair and mold your lips together. He groans into the kiss as his hands flow down to your waist. You begin to grind against his covered crotch. His hands help you with the motion and he whimpers in your mouth.
You can feel him getting harder and harder by the minute. Your grinding motions quicken as his hands pull you into him faster. "Oh yeah darlin'. Just like that." He rests his head against the back of the pillow as you run your nails along his chest.
He shivers as you get to the waistband of his boxers. Skimming your nails along the soft curls. You carry your hand downward and over his bulge.
He flinches as he watches your movements. You run your nails along his covered length. Feeling his cock through his boxers, running your nails along the veins and tip.
He lifts his hips as a plea to remove his boxers. You only giggle as you keep teasing him. "D-Darlin'" He throws his head back as you grab his shaft through his pants. He whimpers at the feeling and lifts his hips once more.
You give him mercy as you release his cock from his boxers. He groans loudly as he feels your soft hand on his dick. He throws his arms over his eyes as he feels you run your nails along his soft skin.
Precum dribbles from the tip as you circle it with your nail. You admire the way it twitches and leaks for you. You admire how Joel is so desperately trying not to grab you and rail you too death, and how he's just barely holding on because of you.
He moans loudly as you lean down and lick a stripe up his cock. "I can't-" You giggle softly. "Can't what Joel?" You position your covered pussy over his cock and begin to rub against him. His mouth opens as he sees your soaked cunt over his dick.
His thighs begin to tremble as you quicken your pace. His cock twitches and cries under your core. He throws his head back once more and groans. "I'm cumming." He speaks threw gritted teeth. "What Joel?" When you look down at your panties, you soon get your answer. "Oh."
You sit back on his thighs as you watch his cock soften. His face is a flush red as his arms cover his eyes. "Joel did you just die or something."
He lifts his arms from his face and looks down at you. His eyes soften when he sees how absolutely stunning you look right now. He sits up and brings his hand to your face and rubs circles on your cheek with his thumb.
"Probably darlin'." You roll your eyes as he smirks and grabs your hand. He stands up from the couch and picks you up. You wrap your legs around his torso as he carries you upstairs and into your room. "Wait Joel, no-" But before you can say anything else, he's in your room.
"Yes sweetheart?" You grumble as you pick stuff off your floor and throw them into your closet. "Are you seriously cleaning up before we fuck?" He stands there, in your doorway, butt as naked with his arms crossed and a look on his face that says 'you better get your ass on the bed before I make you'
You roll your eyes and throw the stuff on the floor once more. He grins as you crawl onto your bed and lie on your back. He removes your panties as he crawls up your body and kisses your nose. "Baby girl, I don't care if your room is messy."
You giggle as he kisses your lips. You wrap your arms around his neck and through his hair. He deepens the kiss and groans into your mouth. He runs his hand down your body and between your legs.
He slowly circles your clit and you arch you back from the pleasure. You moan into his mouth as he runs a finger through your slit. You kiss his lips harder as he rubs your clit faster.
"Joel." You moan when he inserts a finger into your weeping hole. "I'm here baby, right here." He kisses your neck as his fingers work their magic.
You arch your back as you moan loudly. He feels your juices as you come and groans. "There ya go honey." He brings his hand up from your core and licks it clean. You stare at him with lust and tug his hair as you kiss him once more.
"Ready f'me?" You nod as he lines himself up. That's another thing you love about Joel. He's sweet and will always make sure your okay with something.
You gasp as you feel his cock seethe into you. He rocks his hips forward and you close your eyes.
He kisses along your neck and up to your lips. He groans against your mouth as he thrusts his hips faster. You arch your back as his pelvis knocks into your clit with each thrust.
He runs his hands along your body and rubs your breasts. He rolls your nipple between his fingers and latches his mouth onto your neck as you squeeze his cock.
He kisses and sucks that spot as you arch your back further off the bed. He grunts as he thrusts up and into you faster.
He can tell your close as your moans get louder and your breathing quickens. "Cmon baby, come with me."
You grab his face and collide your lips together as you come. Moaning into his mouth as you feel his thrusts get sloppier as he comes. Filling your pussy with his dripping seed.
His hips come to a stop as he rests his head against your forehead. You open your eyes and see that he's already looking at you.
You stare at his face for a bit. Looking at how beautiful he is. He looks into your eyes with love. He wants to hold you, wants to stay with you forever, he wants to love you. But he can't.
He kisses you once more before getting up and heading to the bathroom, leaving you all alone, for now.
He returns back with his shirt and a soft cloth, this feels all too familiar. Like he'll just clean you up and leave you once more.
You smile as he sits in front of you. You sit up and he taps your knee to spread your legs. Your raise as eyebrow as you do what your told.
His eyes droop as he sees the sight in front of him. Your gorgeous pussy leaking his cum. God, he wonders what you'd look like pregnant. With his baby, that he put into you. No, he shouldn't think like that, you're his best friends daughter after all.
He shakes the thoughts from his head and puts the soft rag against your core. Wiping away his hard work. He throws the rag down and into your hamper as he lifts your arm and puts his shirt on you.
You lift the fabric to your nose and sniff in. You open your eyes and look at him. Oops, you forgot he was here.
He smiles softly down at you and gets up. You follow him as he heads downstairs. He picks up his clothes and puts on his boxers. You don't want him to leave you just yet because you know that right after his shoes are on, he's out the door. So, you come up with an idea.
He pulls his jeans up and then he hears music. He turns around and sees you smiling at him with your finger in your mouth. You walk over to him.
You wrap your arms around his naked shoulders. He chuckles as you begin to sway your hips. "And what's all this darlin'?" You giggle as he steps side to side with you. "Just a little dancing." He smiles sweetly at you.
Like a Prayer by Madonna plays in the background as you both giggle and dance together. He grabs your arm and twirls you around. His hands on your hips as you sway your hips to the beat and he pulls a John Travolta move and you laugh and giggle at him.
You stare up at him as the beat begins to come to an end. You just stare into each others eyes and you want to say it so badly. Want to claw at his chest and make a hole in his heart for you. You want to scream to the whole world that you are so deeply in love with him. Joel Miller.
He stares into your soft eyes. He looks into each one. He would love to just take you back to his house and stay with you forever. He wants to hold you and kiss you and love you till the day you die. But you both know you can't and never will.
The music comes to an end and he stands with you in your empty living room, with no shirt on and his hands on your waist. He leans down and slowly kisses your lips with deep passion and love.
He's never kissed you with such tenderness. When his lips release from yours, you look up at him with tears in your eyes. He smiles down at you and brings his hands to your face. Just say it, just say it, please just say it.
He boops your nose with his finger and goes to grab his shirt but realizes you have it on.
You clear your throat and walk over to he door. He's soon behind you and tugs at the flannel your wearing. "It's alright sugar, you keep it, it's hot out anyways." He smirks at you as you shyly smile up at him.
He walks out the door and waves goodbye. "Bye Joel." You say with sadness as you close the door. You walk back up to your bedroom and shut the door, plunging your face into your pillow and crying your eyes out. You are so so so deeply in love with him and you don't know what to do anymore.
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tags!!
@guelyury @livingonthehems @ursagittariusgirlfriend @iamsherloocked @heartpascalispunk
@pinkcrystal44 @amyispxnk @simplewanderer @tupelomiss @heartramen
@kotourasan123 @mermaidgirl30 @brittmb115 @littlevenicebitch69 @sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts
@morallyinept @magpiepills @javierpenaispunk @rav3n-pascal22 @yorksgirl
@itsokbbygrl @mountainsandmayhem
416 notes · View notes
cassandraclare · 4 months
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*sighs a bit* Okay. Guys. I have been asked this question a lot, and answered it a lot. I don't know how to give a better answer — Dru & Ty&Kit share significance as main characters — so I guess I'll talk a little about comparison and structures.
First, all series have different structures. I don't think it's super useful or predictive to try to map an upcoming, unknown book series onto an existing series. In TLH the main character was Cordelia, everyone else was secondary to her, and people's roles and the significance of them altered from book to book. It was a big ensemble cast and they mostly stayed put in London especially in book 1.
TWP focuses on a smaller group of people. It also has a very different structure. In book one, Dru is not with Kit and Ty. They are in different places, both of which have their own stories that are significant to the plot. There is no way to see Place One without following Dru. There is no way to see Place Two without following Kit and Ty.
I know that TWP is a long way off. I know there are people who are very angry with me that there's such a gap, but there isn't anything currently I can do about that, or about the fact that I don't yet have the schedule for my upcoming books. That rests in the hands of several different publishers who must coordinate the release times and production schedules for four different series. I am not withholding any information about when these books come out. I simply don't know it yet.
I understand that TWP being a long way off makes for anxiety, and that those who are worried Kit and Ty will somehow be secondary are looking for tiny clues in microscopic details — micro-reading the of placement of the word "and" in my newsletter and such — that are meaningless, but I get that it all comes from anxiety. (FTR, those worried Dru will be secondary are equally anxious.)
I think there is only so much I can say. Because there's a big gap between TLH and TWP everything I do say or every image or hint about it is freighted with a weight of assumption it can't really support. Anxiety is always going to trump reassurance. And truly, at the end of the day, if you only care about Kit and Ty and find the idea of a Dru story tiresome, you will feel like they got shafted because when you absolutely hate a plotline, you will always feel like it's taking up way too much space. That's just how our minds work.
I've been doing this long enough that I know no book can survive a hostile reading. I know that Book Three of a trilogy is the one people hate until they don't. (When Clockwork Princess came out people hated it so much I considered quitting writing!) I know that it's wonderful to love a character but can also be a problem for people when I put out books that aren't about that particular character or dynamic. I know that for a lot of people, Sword Catcher and Ragpicker King are just tiresome things that have no business on my schedule because they're not Shadowhunter books. And I get it. But I also have to block it out, because I've been writing a long time, and I've gotten to a point where I know that I have to write the thing I want to be writing, because if I don't, if I sit down and try to force myself to write something I'm not feeling like writing at that time, I'll be making myself physically and mentally sick. And that's no good for anyone, really.
I suppose the positive thing is that, while this would not have been true five years ago, I am at the place where I want very much to be writing Wicked Powers. I missed these characters and am glad to be back with them. I consider this a story in which there are three main characters. And that is all I can say right now because it's all that I know.
(And this was much more of a general response to a lot of things than a specific response to this question, but I did feel like it was stuff that I needed to say. Creators are at the end of the day, just people. Sometimes we are powerless to reassure. Sometimes we are tired. Sometimes we are wrong. Sometimes we try things and they don't work. Sometimes we can't explain to you what our story is going to make you feel, because only reading it is going to tell you that. This may be one of those times.)
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anadiasmount · 3 months
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hello again? - jude bellingham x reader.
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quick sum: weddings and dates. feelings tested to their breaking point when one of you appears with a date. the night is young, is there still a chance to make things right even when it feels wrong?
wc: 4k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist
psa 🗣️: HAD SOO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS!!! this wa smeant to be posted yesterday so I'm sorry for the small delay!! i love the drama and angst but fluffy ending as promised!!🤞🏻 like always hope you enjoy! 🤍
“i going to need five painkillers by the end of the night,” the bride, well, your best friend says. you laugh as you finish tucking in the last few bobby pins in her updo, making sure no flyaway or small bumps are seen, everything sleek and perfect. “i am too. or maybe many many many tequila shots, whichever is first available,” you joke. 
“you should be all set!” you say cheerfully with a full smile on your face, hands resting on her shoulders as she admires your work. “it looks absolutely perfect, thank you! you’re truly a life savor i was ready to cancel the whole wedding,” your friend's eyes glimmer in relief, having a huge weight lifted off her shoulders as you did her hair. the hairstylist had to cancel the day of due to having a family emergency, but refunding her money was the least she could do. 
all the bridesmaids surrounded you, complimenting the hair and most importantly the bride who could just be overall thankful and full of emotions. the photographer came in, taking individual and group pictures of everyone, and opening a bottle of champagne to start the day. 
there were still a couple of hours left so you did some touch-ups on hair and makeup, assuring to add some powder to set and spray a setting mist to ensure it would last all day, also being generous with the hair spray. you changed into the olive green-toned dress and the black pumps for the evening, the dress hitting the correct angle and not interfering with you walk. a simple gold bracelet and matching earrings completed the look, walking out and earning praises from your girlfriends. 
your heart began to race faster approaching the reception, suppressing any feelings away because you felt it wasn't the time. the wedding nerves were killing you but also seeing jude again was making you stress more than it shouldn't have. how he was. what he'd wear. if he was even going to be there?
with jude's schedule, it was hard to even make time for each other, being one of the main reasons for your messy breakup. your promotion to the law firm, move to spain, his recovery, media, games, and the always questioning each other's every move. it took a toll especially on you, crossing yourself every night knowing you couldn't do anything about it except long for him.
he was your every thought since then. if he missed you? how his life was going? if he also desired to get back together? as hard as it was you still felt more than love for him. the feeling in your tummy spreading as you remember the first times with him. the kiss, the date, the sex, the love, all of it.
"i've ordered your favorite, now tell me where i can help you," jude says kissing just below your ear returning from outside where he placed a call. you hand him your flashcards pulling out your notebook to read the different scenarios that match with the words.
"just so you know, before we start, i'll have you know i want something in return," jude whispers with a cheeky grin. "of course you do, what is it," you ask teasingly your arm wrapping around his shoulders waiting for his response.
"a date. i want you to go out on a date with me y/n..." jude says earning a silence from you. your nails rake against the back of his neck, "i'd love too. just so you know, depending how much you help me with determine the commitment to our first date..."
"i promise to be on my best behavior then."
"y/n! are you ready?" your friend waved her hand in the air with a confused look, you immediately snapped back into reality as you stepped out to the reception. "does everyone have their flowers? remember they go in your right hand!" the party organizer reminded you as you quickly got into line with the groomsmen.
it all happened quickly, you smiled at alex who quickly got into place arm wrapped with yours as you walked down the aisle as rehersed. the reception was absolutely beautiful. the tears, the vows, the laughter, the ceremony couldn't have been more perfect. you hated to admit but your eyes did search around for jude, and once you saw him, a sensation in you went numb.
there jude sat with a girl to his side who clearly hadn't read the dress code. placing kisses all over his hand and cheek, the love dazed in her eyes as she stared at jude. jude did reach over a few times and she giggled, making your weak heart wrench further.
jude on the other hand started to get impatient, especially with carla who wouldn't stop annoying him and trying to get his attention every few seconds. since breaking up with you he couldn't stand the PDA towards him or seeing it. jude quickly found it difficult since most of his teammates were married or in committed relationships.
it seemed like everywhere he went, there were reminders of you lingering around. the library you studied and where he took you on a desk in a quiet corner, the cafe where you'd get your morning coffee with him, even his training center, and the beranabeu where he hoped and waited you'd be there. he was miserable and driven to his breaking point.
jude began to regret bringing carla, as she got the wrong message and was all over him. the wedding you planned to go to together, where you were supposed to be his date, not her. but his stupid jealousy and talks from others were the fault he was here today. he was anticipating meeting your boyfriend or date, make the message clear he was going to be in the picture.
he hated to think of someone else when it wasn't him. it ticked him off and he knew he couldn't do anything about it because you weren't there anymore. but no one said he couldn't feel the way he felt. to hate the man who would forever make you laugh, or earn your love at the end of the day.
all those promises, the kisses, the hugs, the forever after you guys created was long gone. it hurt jude to the point where he had nightmares, not being able to sleep. it didn't help when they teased or made comments to him. or the fact a rumor went around you moved on and had someone else.
"carla, do you mind getting some drinks while i say hello to some friends?" jude kindly asks removing her hands from his chest. "anything for us jude! i'll wait for you by our table," she winks at him making jude internally cringe as she walks off.
he dabs up his friends, congratulating the groom and making small talk. "oye jude! que pasa chaval!? i didn't think you'd come," his shorter teammate brahim greeted him. "well i'm here aren't i? how are you? como estais?" jude mocked earning a chuckle from him.
all of his teammates suddenly surrounded him, laughing and discussing the plays for the game before, and the tactics for the upcoming one. jude looked around trying to look for you and carla. he fixed his suit every now and then, entranced with his friends. "who did you come with?" asked brahim, looking around for what presumably could be you.
"an old friend, her name is carla," jude winces at his friend's look. “i thought you were coming with y/n?” asks brahim earning a deep scowl from jude. “no we uh- we broke up a while ago,” jude squints his eyes, eyes finding you where you laughed loudly with your friends.
“but she’s here?”
“yeah but probably not alone,” jude retorted still convinced you were seeing someone and they were here. “what?” brahim laughs at him earning an eye roll from jude, “you can’t be serious! i’m pretty sure she’s single,” brahim says. “what are you playing at here jude?”
“nothing. i’m here for the wedding,” jude scoffs. “yeah sure you are,” brahim squints his eyes then looks around starting to walk off. “when you come to your senses, i’ll wait for you over there. remember not everything seems to be exactly as you seem jude…” he smacks his shoulders and walks off.
you’d probably been on your third glass of champagne by now, enjoying the presence with your girls as you spoke about the wedding and old throwbacks together. the speeches were made and the newly weds had their first dance already. anyone at the event center was dancing, talking, or drinking.
“i’ll be right back, i'm pissing myself,” you excuse yourself laughing at joke as you step away to do your business. you brought along your bag, washing your hands and touching your your makeup that had smudged a bit after the maid of honor speech. applying a fresh coat of lipstick and gloss you dabbed the excess off and headed outside.
you motion to your friends you we're head to the bar, them mouthing to bring shots of tequila and some peanuts to eat. “i don’t think we’ve met before,” a strange voice says behind you, you turn slowly, feeling your chest sink deeper as you place a small smile. “i'm carla,” the girl introduced herself, watching as you hesitated taking her hand.
“i feel like i’ve seen you around somewhere, i just can’t put a finger to it. you know huge town but small circle of friends, i was invited last minute to the wedding so,” carla spoke falsely making you want to walk out the conversation. you nodded along not really caring and wanting to go back. part of you hated the way you were treating her, but it was all the jealousy talking. she had done nothing to you besides show up here with him.
“i’m sorry but my friends are waiting for me,” you apologize letting the bar tender know where you were seated. you grabbed a fresh glass of champagne and standing up, grabbing your bag and walked away. “leaving so soon? i was hoping we could talk,” she approaches you again making you turn again but this time a bit agitated since you were catching on to what she was doing.
“like i said, my friends are waiting for me,” you shrug nonchalantly seeing her cock her head to the said and look you up and down. “well i didn’t catch your name,” she sarcastically says, the anger building in you slowly as she spoke and wanted to rub onto your face who she was here with.
“i’m y/n, but i feel like you know that already.”
“oh you’re the ex-girlfriend!” the girl enhanced the oh, with a fake smile. rage burned in your veins, needing to have resistance before you put her in her place. she had been on it the whole night, and she began to test your limits now. 
“you must be the new girlfriend!” you returned the fake smile and took a huge sip of the champagne. “almost couldn’t tell…” you shrugged looking for an escape route but landing eyes with the man you avoided the whole night. his mouth agape and wide eyes. 
he wore a black suit and white button up, leaving three buttons undone, hair styled and a fancy watch adorning his wrist. you felt tugged into the eye contact, needing and wanting to be the one next to him tonight. but instead here you were, giving your attention to the person you hated most. 
your jaw clenched, turning your attention to your glass where you swirled the drink. “it’s a shame you guys didn’t work, but don’t worry! i’ll take better care of him,” she snarled. “jude spoke so much of you, honestly don’t see anything fascinating about you. have a goodnight.” 
you downed the drink in one go, feeling the burn in your throat as you placed the glass onto the empty table. jude frowned at your state, still overly confused and waiting for your date to appear. then it all clicked in his head, you didn’t bring anyone, you didn’t bring a date. the jealousy and anger disappearing in him slowly as he watched you sit down and sigh covering your head in your hands. 
“what did you say to her?” he questioned his date, seeing a smirk appear on her lips. jude turned back to you where you looked around in a trance, knowing immediately you felt the anxiety in you. 
“what had to be said. it’s all done.” 
“what’s done? what are you doing?” jude spit out dragging her to an empty hall where she just chuckled. “i told her what needed to be said. closed a chapter and now we’re starting a new one,” carla spoke crossing her arms. “i brought you here as a companion, not as my girlfriend or anything more. i think you’re getting the wrong message here,” jude said shaking his head.
“what do you mean jude?”
“i never asked you to do that, carla. you had no right to do that. i brought you here as a companion, not my girlfriend or anything else,” jude makes it clear to her seeing confusion flash into her eyes, now beaming with embarrassment. “i don't get it jude?”
“that i don’t intend to start a relationship with you. i’m sorry if i have given that impression but i can’t. what did you say to her?" jude demands his tone going softly as he walks towards her. "i thought i had said what needed to be said so we could finally be together!"
"y/n is too busy with herself. she got herself a promotion and is focused on her studies! she can't give you what you want and ask for jude! she's nothing compared to me," carla points to herself as she speaks all mumbled.
"and you can? what you did just now, what impression does that give to me carla? the way you're speaking about someone who you don't know, and never will?" jude defends you, deeming the need to even if you weren't there. she opens her mouth to speak but closes it immediately, knowing nothing could fix the situation. "i'm sorry-"
"save it. we both know you don't mean it," jude scoffs and walks off, back into the reception where you're nowhere to be found. he wandered off for a few minutes looking for you, even asking some people around him and they all gave him the same response that they hadn't seen you.
you had walked off back to your friends after a mini breakdown and questioning your life. beginning to blame yourself for everything when it shouldn't. it was both your faults but yet it hurt to hear her say nothing was fascinating about you. you shouldn't have let her words get to heart but what if they were true?
what if you were stuck in your own world and couldn't bother to make time for him? what if you didn't give enough attention especially when he most needed it? to be worried only in the moment and not live your life to its fullest? a couple shots and dancing later you found yourself seated at your table alone, watching you friends dance without their heels drunkly laughing off.
"where are you even going?" jude asks you, seeing how you packed every item away into suitcases. "clearly far way from you. i can't stand it anymore, you're never here jude!" you yell throwing your hand sin the air.
"you're never here and i'm tired of it jude. it's always some bullshit excuse and if you truly cared you'd see that but you don't. i'm not wanted here so the faster i leave, the better for us," you say zipping up the final case.
"you're being ridiculous," jude laughs in disbelief, approaching you but you warn him to not get near you. "this is what i mean! i can hardly recognize you nowadays! i'm done jude. done," you say loud and clear.
"leave. i never needed you anyway." you turn around facing him, a flash of regret filling in his eyes as you look at him in pure disbelief. "you did, or you wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for me."
you share your head at the memory, heading to the empty bar to return the empty glasses, feeling the need to clean up the mess and grab a small snack and final glass of champagne walking out to the outdoor balcony for a breath of air. "y/n?" you look up, not feeling sleepy or drunk anymore, standing up straight as jude approaches you.
was it possible to feel your heart shatter into millions of pieces over and over again? to feel the pit of your stomach turn at the sight of your ex-boyfriend? to feel utter pain when it was supposed to be a happy day? "jude..." you croak, looking away and biting the inside of your cheek.
he rests his forearm on the bar railing looking at you, trying to read you as you looked forward. silence fell upon you, but there was no denying that your hearts began to sprint faster at the closeness of the two of you. "did you need something?" you softly ask, taking a sip of the drink. "i wanted to talk," jude states firmly.
"are you sure? i don't think your girlfriend would like that," you attempt to joke but it earns you a frown from jude who just shakes his head. "i'm not sure she would, i'll just leave this here and go-" you try to walk away but he stops you, softly gripping your wrist refusing to let you go.
"she's not my girlfriend, she also left a while ago..." jude says, seeing you finally lock eyes with his. a deep laugh rumbles from his throat a painful smile stretching along his adorned face, "my first reaction would've been that too, if you had shown up here with someone else."
"i don't get it, why are you here then?" you feel the need to ask, get some sort of answer to relieve the pang in your chest. "why bother being here when you still brought her."
"because i was jealous, there i said it. i was so convinced you'd show up with someone who wasn't me. that i'd have to face reality and finally accept we're not longer together. that i can't call you mine anymore..." jude confesses, making your eyes glisten with new tears again.
"do you not know how it feels? to still be stuck in the past and longing for hope that one day you'll come back to me? having to face everyday with you on my mind anywhere i go? to have vivid dreams of you?" jude frowns, his once rough voice turning delicate as he brought a hand wiped your tears. "i can't stand it anymore."
"i thought this whole time before coming here, you were with someone else. everyone told me you had moved on and looked in a better place and all i could feel was bitterness. it wasn't fair, but i was so wrong y/n. so wrong to the point where i brought someone who could never love me like you did..." jude wiped his own tears away at the state of you.
you felt like you couldn't move, stuck in the same place as you heard his voice. the voice that one day soothed you to sleep, to calm you down, to look forward to at the end of the day. was it possible to feel this emotionless? to have no more tears left to cry? a sob emerged you, covering your face and attempting to control your breaths.
"who said i stopped? i may have an idea of what you feel like, let's be real. i don't know quite frankly who told you i moved on, but that's all lies. i can't do that knowing i still feel the same i did when i first met you," you sniffle taking a gulp and feeling the knot in your throat. "i thought i was fine and could handle seeing you, but my oh my was i incorrect... to see her with you, for her to come up to me and speak the way she did? for a second i thought 'where is my jude'?"
"i'm right here..."jude grabbed your hand and placed it on his heart, bringing it up to his jaw and resting his face on your palm. "don't you see it though? we're back where we ended off. do you possibly think we're good for each other when it seems like we're only hurting?" you question him.
"i've lived everyday thinking i wasn't enough or that i couldn't give you what you wanted jude," you shook your head in disappointment, "i want to fix things i do, but i'm scared that if we do this again, we're going to end up back here confessing our wrongs and tears. the way i felt the day we broke up doesn't compare to now..." you say, jude going quiet and looking down in defeat.
"i miss you so much jude," you choked on your own words, a fresh wave of tears overpowered the dry ones, holding onto jude upper arms as he leaned down and engulfed you into a deep hug. jude repeatedly kissed your head, choking on his own sobs as he repeated how much he missed you.
"i hope you know i'm still so madly in love with you y/n. i've never felt this way for anyone and it seems like its meant for you and you only,"j jude says making you giggle. "i'm serious pretty girl. i'm serious about you and us. i always was and i made the mistake of letting you go once, but i'm not here to do that again. i'm here to grant all of the promises we made," jude holds your face, seeing your red eyes and slightly smudged makeup, still more beautiful than ever.
"all of them?"
"every single one of them."
"i feel like we should talk more about it," you insist, seeing jude nod and agreeing with you. he tightens his grips on you waist leaning further down closer to you. "yes we do and we will, but right now i want to kiss you..." he asks and you grant. he sucks in a breath lips devouring yours after months, holding and kissing you how you liked and deserved.
you held onto his suit, tiptoeing up and deepening the kiss further, being able to taste his minty whisky scent. "come with me. we won't talk about everything tonight but i really just want to be here with you," jude says, sitting down on a small couch laid outside. you immediately follow and cuddle into him like you used to. you place a final peck onto his lips. "wait my drink-" jude holds your waist giving you a look with a playful smile.
"i think that's enough for tonight."
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me-and-your-husband · 11 months
Text
body ink || e. williams
summary: you tattoo ellie's thigh. it's a bit of a compromising position, and it leads you down an unexpected road. female reader.
warnings: smut!, fingering (e receiving), oral (e receiving), tattoo guns, mentions of a needle, tattoos? finger sucking?? not beta read (i didn't even read tbis through once)
a/n: i've risen from the dead. lets chat, my inbox is open :)
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e.williams
Hey! I've gone thru your page and I love your work. Especially your big pieces, they're sick asf. I was wondering if you had any openings for July?
y/ntattoos
hi! i'm glad you like my work, thank you for the kind words! i've got a couple openings in july, when can you come in?
e.williams
I can come in whenever. I'll make time for it if I have to...I don't care when, as long as you're the one doing it haha
y/ntattoos
how does july 13th at 1pm sound?
e.williams
That works!
y/ntattoos
perfect. what are you looking to get done?
e.williams
I was looking to get something kind of floral but not super...soft, yk?
y/ntattoos
so not super feminine? like no roses?
e.williams
Yeah, exactly like that. I don't have a design in mind...I kind of wanted you to design it? I'll pay extra for it I don't mind, but I saw your other designs on your page and liked your style lol
y/ntattoos
okay, tell you what: i'll draw up a couple designs and send them your way before the appointment. sound okay?
e.williams
Yes! Perfect.
y/ntattoos
cool cool. i'll send you the quote once we choose a design. how big were you thinking? and where?
e.williams
I was thinking on my thigh...? I know some artists won't do thighs so if you're uncomfortable w that it's cool!
I was hoping to cover most of my thigh tho
y/ntattoos
haha dw about it. i'm fine with the thigh. trust me, i'm sure i've had weirder requests.
e.williams
Oh yeah? Like what?
y/ntattoos
had a guy a few weeks ago who wanted a full portrait of his grandma on his ass.
e.williams
Oh my goddd. Did you do it?
y/ntattoos
...
$300 is $300...
e.williams
At least I know you're cool with a thigh 😭
y/ntattoos
absolutely. well, i've got some more dms to answer but i'll get to drawing up your design asap. i'll be in touch, thanks ellie :)
e.williams
Sweet. Have a good one :)
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ellie walked into your tattoo shop about fifteen minutes early, to which the receptionist told her to take a seat as you were still finishing up with another client. "she shouldn't be too long."
you had reached out to ellie with five or six amazing designs, all of which she loved. she had such a hard time choosing between all of them, but you managed to rework her favourite parts of each design into one. you both finally came up with a tattoo design that she was obsessed with.
ellie half expected you to be a middle-aged woman with black lipstick and face tattoos, maybe even half of your head shaved and the other side bright pink. your page didn't feature any photos of yourself, just your work.
so when you came waltzing out from the studio and into the foyer, ellie thought you were the client.
"hey, your next client is here," jess said, gesturing to ellie in the chair by the entrance scrolling her phone.
"thanks, jess," you said before approaching ellie. "ellie?"
she looked up from her phone at you, completely startled by who was in front of her. a girl about her age, fucking gorgeous. there's no way you could've developed such skill in so little time.
"hi, yes, that's, uh, that's me," she said as she stood, shoving her phone in her pocket.
"nice to finally meet you," you said, holding your hand out for her to shake. her breath hitched slightly as she took yours.
"you too," she mumbled.
"i'll take you back into the studio now, i've just gotta wipe everything down from my last client." you started walking into the back and she followed you.
"cool, cool ," she said nervously.
this wasn't her first tattoo. she knew what it felt like. she wasn't sweating, stuttering, and shaking before she caught a glimpse of you.
her breath caught in her throat when she realized that you'd have to sit between her legs for most of the appointment.
she was so fucked.
she stood awkwardly playing with her fingers as you sanitized the tools and the chair, listening to you hum slightly to the music playing. she could hear the buzz of the tattoo gun from other artists in the space tattooing other clients.
in the back, an older man was tattooing a woman on the back of her knee. that had to hurt. next to them was a older woman tattooing a woman not much older than you two.
"alright, we're all set. i'm just gonna put this up," you said, unfolding one of those old-timey partitions that princesses change behind in the movies. "it's just to give us a bit of privacy, since you're getting tattooed in a bit more of an exposed place, you know?"
"oh yeah, that makes sense. thanks."
"don't thank me," you laughed. "okay, not to be too forward or anything, but if you brought shorts to change into, i'll give you a minute. if not, i'm cool with you just taking your pants off."
ellie laughed nervously, knowing it didn't even cross her mind to bring shorts. "take me out to dinner first, damn," she chuckled, starting to undo her belt buckle.
you pretended to occupy yourself with putting your gloves on and preparing your table as she took her pants and shoes off, leaving her in her black boxers, your mouth watering a little at her toned thighs.
"you can hop up on the chair when you're done. if you can just like, throw one leg over each side— yeah, like that. perfect."
ellie couldn't believe that she was borderline straddling a tattoo chair in her boxers right now. in front of you, especially. fuck.
without much warning, you slid your swivel chair almost between her legs.
"left or right?"
"uh, i write with my right hand, but i can do some things with my left?" she swallowed hard.
you laughed, "are you getting it on your left or right thigh?"
"oh, uh," god, she was an idiot. "left."
"cool. i'm gonna put the stencil on, then you can look in the mirror and see if you like it. 'kay?"
she nodded, watching you peel the film from the stencil, trying her hardest not to tense up when your soft fingers placed the stencil onto her milky skin, sending shivers straight to her centre.
when she looked at it in the mirror, she grinned, rotating her leg around to get a good look. "fuck, that's sick. i'd be content with just the stencil, you know."
you smiled at her through the mirror. "well hopefully you'll like it better once it's actually shaded."
once you had her back in the chair, you began prepping your gun. "okay, i know you've had a tattoo before, i saw that piece on your arm. so you know what to expect, right?"
"yeah. yeah, i'll be fine."
"okay. if you need a break, just let me know, kay? thighs can be sensitive." you switched the gun on.
"will do."
you began the outlining, humming to yourself over the buzz of the gun. she watched your face focused on the lines, keeping a steady hand.
"who did your arm piece?" you said as you wiped the ink away, making brief eye contact with her.
"oh, my ex-girlfriend did it. she bought a cheap tattoo gun when we were teenagers and i was her test subject i guess."
"cute," you said. "i was just curious." you went back to tattooing her thigh.
ex-girlfriend. that piqued your interest. i mean, it was kind of a given based on the fact that she was wearing boxers and looked like the idea of men repulsed her. and the way she took you in when she first saw you. like she was thirsty. and she was so fine, the way you could see her thigh clench and feel it under your fingers making you want to take her right behind that privacy partition.
"my ex let me tat her too. she was brave. let me do an entire leg sleeve my first time."
"oh?"
"yeah. it kind of ended badly though, so she probably regrets it."
ellie sighs, "that's the beauty of being into girls. they fuck you up."
"amen," you said, looking up at her again.
you made small talk as you worked. you found out that she was a university student studying astrophysics, that she works with her dad in the summer as a contractor to make some extra cash, that she teaches guitar throughout the school year, and that she's an artist herself (her media of choice being oil paints). she even told you that she missed work with her dad today specifically to come.
you quite enjoyed how she'd tilt her head back when you shaded some more painful areas, the cords in her neck more prominent and the column of her throat exposed.
four and a half hours later, the tattoo was finished, and you placed the second skin over her tattoo. you gave her all the aftercare instructions, going over the dos and don'ts. she held her breath when you didn't move your hand from her knee until you told her to go look at it in the mirror.
"holy fuck!?"
"...is that a good reaction or a bad reaction?"
"it's fucking amazing! jesus christ, that's so fucking cool. oh my god. you're amazing."
you blushed and thanked her as you watched her check it out in the mirror, inspecting it and gushing over how detailed it was.
she put her pants and shoes back on and you walked her out to reception.
"i've got this one, jess. take a smoke break," you said, smiling at your receptionist. she thanked you and scurried into the back room.
"alright ellie, that's $200."
"what? you quoted me at $350?"
you just smiled and looked at her, leaning forward against the counter. "pretty girl discount."
her face turned red as she took out her wallet and grinned. she counted out the money, laying $200 in cash against the counter.
"you gonna give the next client who walks through that door today a pretty girl discount, or is it just me?"
"actually, you're my last. and for the record, you're the first to get the discount."
she smiled and returned to her wallet, folding up more bills. after you put the money in the register, she leaned forward and tucked a stack of folded bills into the front pocket of your shirt, pulling you in close. "pretty girl tip."
you bit your lip as you looked at her. her eyes flicked between your eyes and your lips, finally deciding on your eyes. "you said i'm your last client, yeah?"
"yeah," you breathed.
"what're you doing after this, then?"
"well, a pretty girl hasn't asked me to go home with her yet, so i guess i'll probably pick up a coffee and—"
"come home with me?" she breathed, leaning in slightly. "please."
you giggled, "like i could say no to that."
tired of her teasing, her breath eternally fanning over your lips, you grabbed her and pulled her into you over the counter. your lips met and she groaned into the kiss, pulling away after a few seconds. she held her car keys up and shook them, "you ready, babe?"
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she had you pressed up against the wall as soon as she kicked her door shut behind her, hands all up in your hair, lips bruising against yours. you kissed her back fervently. your hand slid down to her core, feeling the wetness through her boxers and jeans. she whimpered into your open mouth at the feeling.
"fuck, you're so wet, ellie."
"then do something about it," she said, hiding her smirk in your neck as she sucked hickeys into it.
"then take me to your bed."
she led you to her room, closing and locking the door, just in case. you pushed her flannel from her shoulders and undid her belt buckle, undoing the buttons on her jeans and sliding them down her legs, being careful of her thigh. she groaned.
"this doesn't seem fair," she said, grabbing the bottom of your shirt and sliding it off. she slid your pants down your legs and threw them onto the floor. "that's better."
she laid on top of you, caging you in, undoing your bra and sucking on your tits, trailing kisses down to your stomach. "fuck, so beautiful," she groaned. 
you pressed your knee gently into her core, "still want me to take care of that?"
"fuck, yeah."
you flipped her over so her ass hung off the edge of the bed and you got on your knees on the carpeted floor. she propped herself up on your elbows, watching your every move.
you began running your finger over her covered core, soaked so good that your finger was covered in her wetness when you took it away, bringing it to your lips.
"please, fuck, i need more, take them off," she said, bucking her hips up.
you hummed, "but i'm enjoying myself, el."
"please, i need you so bad y/n."
"what do you need ellie? tell me."
"i need your fingers, your mouth, anything. i'll do anything. just need you," she begged, shame gone.
"you're lucky you're insanely hot."
you slid her boxers off, watching the strings of slick that connected her pussy to the fabric. you laid your head against the thigh that wasn't freshly tattooed, tracing your finger through her dripping core.
"open up for me, honey," you instructed, gently spreading her thighs further apart.
she let out the most guttural moan when your tongue finally slid through her folds, collecting her juices on your tongue. her hands found your hair and pulled gently, making you moan into her cunt.
you sucked her clit gently, sending waves of pleasure up her spine. when your middle finger slid into her entrance she tried to muffle her moan with the back of her hand, but you yanked it away. "wanna hear you, el. don't do that."
"fuck, you're too good. fuckkk."
"you almost there el? can feel you clenchin' around me," you said, sliding another finger in and returning your mouth to lapping at her folds, paying special attention to her bundle of nerves.
she hummed and nodded fervently. with every thrust in and out, you felt her clench around you, a small white ring forming around the base of your fingers.
"fuck, fuck! i'm gonna— ohhhhh god—!"
you lapped up all of her release that you could, only coming up for air once she had to push your head away from the overstimulation.
you wiped her release from your face with the back of your hand and brought your fingers to her lips, "open."
she grabbed your wrist and obeyed, swirling her tongue around your digits and closing her eyes. "see how good you taste?"
she released them with a 'pop'. "i bet you taste better."
"i seriously doubt that."
"you've been between my legs twice today. i think it's my turn to be between yours. take your panties off."
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permanent taglist:
@winters-fairy @idkwhattonamethisblogs
ellie taglist:
@chrry1ovr @milly-louise @dankpunks @starhrtz
@pedrobaby @urlocalgingersnap @wrendermedone @kissyslut @felsweb
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ohmygraves · 4 months
Note
Hello! I've got a little writing idea if you want to do it. Reader and the rest of 141 are at a bar and reader keeps getting hit on throughout the night. Ghost/Soap getting jealous and feeling protective/possessive over reader and intervene. Just a little bit of a guard dog trope really. Scary man privileges. Hope this sounds a little interesting to do, have a good day :)
hello!!! thank you sm for the idea 💖🫶🏻 please enjoy this humble writing, i love the idea 💛 i wasn't sure if i want to do it with ghost or soap so i did both lol have a good day yourself!
scary dog privilege — ghost/reader/soap
warnings: creepy guy being pushy, alcohol mention, swearing
your little outing at the bar tonight seems to be quite unsuccessful.
actually, no, someone else would argue that you had a very successful day at the bar, since you're currently being hit on left and right by the other patrons. that's the purpose of a bar, right? to maybe find someone to kiss or hook up with one night, and hopefully not catch anything along the way.
but no, you're actually getting quite annoyed right now, as you want nothing more than to sit back, relax, and just get a few drinks with your friends from work. that's all. you want nothing to do with these people who want to get into your pants, or even ask you what's under it.
after a job well done, your captain had wanted to treat the team a few drinks to celebrate. this gets everyone excited, especially because he's not giving any price limits, and he's quite generous. besides, who would miss out on getting free drinks?
maybe you, because you're actually thinking if it was better if you'd just stayed behind, maybe read a book or watch some movies. hell, you could've even spent time at the shooting range, which you actually hated! (because ghost would nitpick at every single thing you did wrong when shooting, and he won't leave you alone until you get it right)
poor you, being such a people pleaser, not wanting to offend the person trying to hit on you, giving them a chance to speak and you'd listen attentively before turning them down because you're not here to hook up, you're here for some drinks and maybe to catch up with your friends. work has been so awful lately that the five of you haven't had the chance to even speak about anything other than mission, work, training... it's slowly getting annoying.
unfortunately, it seems like the others are not so interested in catching up, seemingly leaving to do their own thing. gaz went to the bathroom after downing a few pints, captain went out for a smoke as it is a non-smoking bar, and ghost and soap were somewhere near the billiard table, competing for something stupid again likely. and you? you're left alone in the booth the team always sat in, alone, taking sips of your drink waiting for kyle to come back from his pee break.
you've turned down two men so far, who fortunately was smart enough to sense that you're uninterested in their idea of a good time. you have to admit, you felt quite bad turning them down, especially since they seem to be quite courteous.
this fucking bloke, however...
he was very drunk, very pushy when talking to you. you could literally smell the alcohol off of his breath, it was a surprise that no one has tried to kick him out yet. he kept pestering you, trying to sit beside you and touching you, and your politeness is growing thin everytime he tried to get you to drink with him. you tried to tell him you're not interested, but he was too drunk to even register a "no", apparently.
seriously, where the hell is kyle? why does he need to piss out his two pints of beer immediately after drinking them?
you cursed at kyle, wondering which bathroom he went to for his pee break. did he go to the bathroom in the fucking philippines or something, what's taking him so long?
quickly, someone else scooted over beside you, leaning against your shoulder. soap.
"aye, this lad bothering yer, hen?" he asked you, arms slung behind your shoulder. you thanked whatever gods sent him your way.
the man who tried to hit on you seemed offended, was about to give soap a piece of his mind, before he was yanked out of the way by ghost, thrown aside down on the floor. it made a huge commotion, people were now looking at you.
ghost sat down quietly in front of you — where the man just sat after he tried to touch you, "reckon we should give him 'piece o' our mind, johnny?" he asked the scot.
"mmmaybe. what yer think, lt?"
now the man was fuming, being humiliated in front of the bar when he was trying to flirt with someone?
to make matters worse, now soap decided to kiss you!
he gently held your face, pressing his lips against yours, and to make it believable, even slipped his tongue in-between your lips, his eyes glaring at the drunk bloke. the man who tried to flirt with you was dumbfounded, too surprised to even say anything.
soap pulled away from you for a moment, letting you catch your breath. but before you could say anything, ghost pulled you over the table, his hands gripping your collar as he kissed you too, following what soap did, but much more intense. you didn't even see him pulling his mask up.
"see? lass's taken. shoo." soap held you close after you kissed ghost, basically telling the guy to fuck off. somehow, he left, still fuming though at the two guys who claimed you just like that.
you? you were a little dazed. confused. whatever. your two work mates kissed you after saving you from a random bloke who did not know what no means because he was too drunk off his arse. and strangely enough you didn't mind, they were the best kisses you've ever gotten in your life.
"why'd you two kiss me?" you asked, somehow. you felt stupid right after asking, clearly the answer was to help you get away from that creep!
ghost let out a sigh, taking a sip of his own glass of bourbon. "think we did ya a favor there, love."
you thanked both of them, but you still feel soap's hand squeezing your size, pulling you close to him.
"ye see, lass, can't have 'nother blether hittin' on ye."
you didn't seem to mind, you were getting tired and too drunk to even care. at least you're safe with them.
soap lets you lay your head on his shoulder, talking to ghost about something as you three waited for price and gaz to return.
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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months
Text
Blips In My Routine
Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader
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A/N: A slight interlude in the "Get Off My Screen!" Series to keep you guys entertained while I write it's continuation. I apologize that it's taking so long! School's kind of been kicking my ass recently and I've had to focus more on work than my fanfics. Don't worry though, I'll still be writing more Vox content(Lord knows we don't have enough /j) as long as you guys want to see it!
A/N: I love 🥭 Anon's idea and tbh I don't put it beyond Vox to do it either, I'm not sure if this is as good as the other installments but I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. Btw, reader is in college so she's somewhere in her mid to late twenties. Happy reading!
You glanced at the ticking clock above the whiteboard.
It was just five more minutes before the bell would ring and free you from this boring lecture.
You fought to keep your eyes open as your gaze wandered back to the teacher's PowerPoint.
You hated this subject the most, not even because of the topic itself.
Rather, the professor could be kind of an old-timey asshole.
Thankfully though, it wasn't all that bad.
Not when you had to deal with an equally irritating digital companion anyhow.
Somehow you'd rather take Vox's bullshit over your professor's-
Speaking of, you both had fallen into a somewhat odd routine in the following months.
From greeting each other when you woke up or went to sleep-
To checking up on the other every so often within the day.
Not to mention spilling gossip when anything remotely interesting happened.
Either on his end or yours.
Like that time you saw someone's skirt snag in their locker door and just rip.
You could only snicker at their panic and shame.
The bitch highkey deserved it anyway.
Vox couldn't stop laughing when you eagerly told him all about it.
He knew you could be vicious if you wanted to.
Even if he was aware how much more inherently kind you were compared to the likes of him.
Sometimes the fact you found his companionship worth maintaining-
Or at least tolerable enough to keep-
Genuinely surprised the tech overlord.
Especially because you'd both been communicating for a little over a year by now.
It was nice interacting with someone else that weren't Velvette or Valentino.
Not that he'd ever openly admit to it.
It wasn't like Vox hadn't seen or heard you either, despite the fact he couldn't directly mess with the microphone or camera on your devices.
Your photos and files had more than enough stuff.
You often left him imagining your reactions and voice whenever the both of you chatted.
After all, most of your interactions were practically texting.
Sometimes you even wondered if Vox was constantly bored to end up finding companionship with you.
Or maybe he was lonely, who knows.
You genuinely couldn't be fucked.
He was an interesting guy and that was all that kind of mattered to you at the moment.
Your notepad window popping up snapped you out of that train of thought.
Glancing over at your laptop screen, the small desktop pet Vox gave you merely sat in the corner pointing at the notepad.
Oh it could do angry emotes too-
A slurry of words started pouring into the blank open text window, you figured Vox was probably having another shitty day.
Geez, who would've thought that hell would actually be absolutely crappy?
Well, let's see what he's complaining about this time...
This man was really typing way faster than you could read-
You were able to garner pretty quick what he was bitching about though.
Even if you kind of found the source of his irritation quite childish and kinda stupid.
"It's so dumb! The fact I can only talk to you with this goddamn thing is driving me insane!"
"Aaaand? What's wrong with the notepad? You also have the desktop companion."
You definitely started calling it that only because Vox was getting pissy that you were referring to it as a 'pet'-
"It can only do so much dollface, it's just glorified texting at this point. Besides, the tiny version of me is just an animated emoji keyboard."
"Well you already mess with my software regardless of what I tell you, what's stopping the great 'Technology Overlord' from hacking my camera and microphone?"
"Haha, very funny doll. Don't you think I would've done it already if I could?"
At this point you kinda just wanted to laugh at the whole situation.
Vox, a demon, one who could control electronics to his every whim-
Or so he claims.
Was being pissy about not being able to talk to you properly.
You couldn't tell if that was supposed to be endearing or hilarious.
He always got worked up over the smallest inconveniences.
You saw it as him being just very observant-
But it could also highkey be from his captain control freak tendencies.
"Then just make an app or something, you'll figure it out. Mess with the software settings or whatever."
That was the last message you wrote before the school bell suddenly rang out loud and clear.
You didn't even read his reply before shutting your laptop down and arranging your belongings.
Soon enough, you were the first one out of the classroom and more than ready to go home.
Vox knew you'd shut down your laptop after he got hit with his custom Voxtech screensaver.
Similarly to the wallpaper, he'd changed your screensaver to something more on brand.
While he did take your suggestion into account, a part of him wondered why he didn't bother trying in the first place.
But given the issues with him trying to access the built-in camera and microphone-
Vox felt a little concerned that modifying your devices too much could corrupt them.
That alongside all of your files and the data you had stored.
Wait...
Concern?!
He didn't actually care about your shit did he?
Oh fuck it!
He'll do whatever he wants to!
He was still careful not to really change much, he knows how annoying file corruption is and he didn't want to actually damage your data in case it had stuff you needed.
You weren't surprised that he'd taken your words literally-
You noticed a peculiar looking app appeared on all of your devices when you had arrived home.
That's a really fancy looking V design, was this Vox's doing?
Upon opening the app, you were greeted to a slightly odd looking interface.
It looked kind of like a more... sci-fi-esque styled chat room?
You wanted to say it lowkey looked like an Omegle room-
Before you could really nitpick at the design though, a text notification popped up on your phone.
You had just set everything up too, it seems like it came from the new app.
"Testing, testing. Are you getting this (Y/N)?"
To say you were amazed at what Vox had done was an understatement.
He was able to do so much in just so little time-
Just- how???
Oh, right- you should probably reply to that-
"Yeah yeah, I gotchu."
"Fucking finally! Working around your firewalls and antivirus was an absolute nightmare!"
Aaaaaaaand here came the usual ranting and bitching-
You just threw your phone on the bed and left to take a shower and freshen up while he kept at it.
Vox was actually quite proud he got the app to work.
Especially without affecting the existing system on your computer much.
If anything, it wasn't any different from the games or social media applications that already existed on your computer.
Granted, when he first booted the app to try it- the darn thing kept crashing and glitching.
But that was easily and swiftly dealt with.
Well, after much frustration and screaming but yes- taken care of.
By the time you came back, you saw an animated version of your wallpaper appear windowed in the app.
Right... that was supposed to be his face.
"Hello? (Y/N)? Can you hear me?"
What-
What the fucking FUCK-
Apparently, the thing you thought that was just a gif or an emoticon was actually a livestream of Vox's face.
And that was how he sounded like?
Okay that seemed pretty on brand for a telecasting television now that you think about it-
But how the hell did he manage to do this-
"Vox?! What the hell!"
You yelled out in retaliation, only growing more confused when Vox didn't reply or just kept repeating if you could hear him.
So he couldn't hear you, but he found a way to sort of project himself into your device.
What kind of upside-down thing is this?
Picking up the phone, you quickly used the chat-box to reply.
"I can hear you, but I don't think you can hear me?"
Vox just audibly cursed from what you could guess was frustration, staying silent and presumably typing out a reply.
Just how long had he been trying to fix this problem?
"I can't access your cameras or microphone whatever I do dollface, this was my last resort."
Seeing his live reactions allowed you to notice the genuine frustration and exasperation he had with the situation.
It kind of made you feel a little guilty for just brushing him off all the time now.
You always thought it was quite... old-timey for Vox to want to talk to you face to face.
Hold a "proper" conversation as he put it.
But maybe that was just because he grew that fond of your company.
Geez, what a sap.
"It's fine dude, I'm glad you made a specially designated space for our conversations though. My notes were starting to get cluttered with our conversations stuck in there with my school stuff anyway."
You could swear the small smile you saw on his face made saying all that worth it.
There really wasn't any reason for you two to switch mediums, but the new app wasn't unwelcome.
You were really starting to care more about this dumb TV head.
As you and Vox went back into comfortable regular conversation, you found solace as both you and your companion once again fell back into the odd routine you grew used to.
Come morning however, you were seriously reconsidering giving Vox the idea about making that custom application.
It was a stupidly large can of worms that you didn't even realize existed-
Notification after notification, you wondered just how much time the technology demon had on his hands to constantly bother you.
"Vox, I know you're happy about your app but can you stop spam sending me memes for five seconds?"
"Eh, not feeling it."
"Go to hell you dumb picturebox."
"Already here dollface, already here."
You facepalmed.
What an idiot.
Well, he was your idiot.
A/N: I'm leaning towards this being more than a just friends thing, dunno if I'll make it romantic or not in the continuation but I'd reckon that Vox and reader would get pretty close by now sooooo hahaha have fun y'all :D
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hadesoftheladies · 4 months
Text
actually, I DID have gender dysphoria as a teenage girl without being exposed to anything about it on the internet, on top of "racial dysphoria" and body dysmorphia
there were points I DID want to kill myself because i wasn't, or bleach my skin or change my body, i would have done anything to be a white boy at one point
which is both sad and funny to me because i remember two of my then good friends explain being enby and transgender to me and me being like "that doesn't make any sense" and it's because of trans-discourse we eventually broke up. the closest i ever got to accepting trans-ideology was transmedicalism with weak support for "queer" culture. i did not understand pronouns, but i understood dysphoria. but i did not understand how one could be a man or woman without the sex characteristics.
how did i heal?
one, i left church. that was one of the places i was most scrutinized for my physical body. two, i distanced from my parents, especially my mom. who often made my ocd and body-image worse (not because she was mean, but because she was always fretting about "decency"). three, i focused on bettering my personal space. writing, reading, watching my comfort shows, getting the focus off me. four, i started eating better, and my body became less burdensome. i stopped getting horrible period pain. five, i surrounded myself with self-confident women and stopped trying to resurrect toxic friendships with girls and boys (especially boys). started eliminating each toxic friend and focusing my efforts on healthier relationships. six, i'd started educating myself on my own history, watching and listening to more black and African people. even when i didn't enjoy what they made or resonate with it, i found i appreciated the experience and could allow myself to hate or love whatever i found.
by the time i discovered radical feminism, this was like, the final step for me: consuming women-centric literature and media. this was HUGE. i'd see paintings and photography of women in all shapes, colors and sizes. i'd listen to master musicians, read women philosophers, anthropologists, etc. this started mending a lot of what caused initial disquiet when it came to my dysphoria or dysmorphia.
basically, i took myself out of bad environments (especially those which force you to scrutinize every detail about yourself, like social media, i took long breaks from that), drew boundaries with people i couldn't get rid of, learned about myself (ocd, dyscalculia, anxiety, female biology) so that i developed understanding and could empathize, stopped centering men and white people.
now, while there's still a hint or trace of dysmorphia and dysphoria, it doesn't plague my life. it's like the occasional itch. more of a mild temptation to go down a dark hole than an actual threat. and i've learned how to handle those.
i learned the root of things. not just my history, but the root of how society worked and how it affected me. and i'm still learning, and my life is still improving.
so yeah, girls and women going through this is normal and common. anyone who is used to who they are being shameful is more at risk (like gnc lgb kids), but you can recover. usually better if you get out of the places that are making you sick.
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