#his complexion and the texture of his skin

[pocketwei]

Strange as angels dancing in the deepest oceans

#they are almost every song on the Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me album by The Cure #your honor they are in LOVE! ! ! ! #art #ok is this sketch or is this illu. #illustrations #it's not important #what IS important is shanks' tan lines #very important #dracule mihawk #akagami no shanks #shanks #mihawk #akataka #mishanks #one piece #not to brag but i think i got the slight shine of pale & slightly damp skin on mihawk's forehead Just Right #this is so important to me #his complexion and the texture of his skin #he is the most beautiful man in the entire world to me

[dejwrld]

summary — international rockstar choso kamo is in love with the international popstar, y/n.

warning readers discretion is advised ⸻ female reader, female anatomy described, written with black reader in mind, mentions of descriptors of black reader (complexion, hair texture, culture), open to be read by all readers, profanity, angst, lovers to exes, told in third pov Chosoi's pov), mentions of drug and alcohol usage, opposite attracts trope, riding/cowgirl position, brief mention of oral (m.receiving), famous au, modern au, he falls harder trope, praise kink, rockstar choso x popstar!reader one shot

sticky note from deja — this was originally another character plot, but urgh i just think about rockstar choso a lot! well i think about choso a lot period. so here's a sweet treat to the choso gaggers.

He liked her more than he had expected. He never was the one to be in a committed relationship—didn't quite go with the rockstar image as an artist, nor did it sell to the public. He thought it was better to sell into the stereotype that rock stars do hardcore drugs, can't remember their flings' names, and show up late to their sound checks for concerts. But here he was, staring at her as she peacefully slept on his chest as if she belonged there. 

Well, she did. She was different from the people he pursued romantically who entered his life and exited quickly when they realized they couldn't keep up with his lifestyle. She could handle the throat-cutting hate from fans because she had rabid fans. She could take the intrusive questions from music journalists because she had one of the world's best PR and media training teams. 

He didn't want to admit that he was falling in love with her. 

But, here, Choso was itching to smoke a morning cigarette but too afraid to wake her because she had a late recording session.

And don't get him started on the reckless shit he did while she was locked up in the studio last night. 

"Good morning," Her voice comes off like a whisper as if they were in a library with strict talking rules. She's placing tired kisses on Choso’s chest with a smile. 

"Mornin'," Choso mumbles back, his arms resting behind his head. His brown-colored eyes met her gaze when he felt her hand rubbing his thighs. "Don't you have to be at the studio in a couple of hours?" His right eyebrow, embedded with a piercing, raised at her. 

She chuckled, letting her hand rub against his cock that had hardened in the wake of morning wood. Betraying him entirely as he's inhaling sharply at her actions. 

"I just need two hours with you," She responds. "And maybe one to get ready." She adds before smiling. Her eyes glistened with lust, and Choso couldn't deny that look. 

"Help yourself." He responds, getting even more comfortable in his king-sized bed. His hands still rest behind his head because he wouldn't have cared for her to use him as she pleased. 

With a pleased smile, she leaned closer to peck his lips before leaving a trail of kisses on his bare chest and traveling downward to disappear under the gray-colored duvet that covered them both. 

Choso was waiting for her to notice the impulse thing he did yesterday. Quite afraid of her reaction because maybe he had gone a bit overboard. He wasn't sure she loved him as much as he loved her. 

Choso!" She climbs back from under the blanket and quickly tugs it off the two of them. "What the fuck is this?" Her acrylic tapered square-shaped nails trace alongside his waist, and that simple movement causes his pale skin to garnish with goosebumps. 

"Surprise cupcake." He gives her a cheeky grin. 

"Surprise my ass!" 

Just above his waist, stopping right where his white-haired happy trail ended, was her name in old English font. 

Y/N.

He couldn't read her facial expressions. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrow together in confusion, but her mouth held back a snicker. Y/N's fingers traced alongside the tattoo's outline that imprinted Choso's skin.

"I can't believe you did this insane shit." She stares at Choso and then at the tattoo before giggling. "You're so insane, but I love you for that." 

Choso didn't think she knew what she had just said because before he could respond, she was kissing the tattoo so delicately that it caused Choso’s toes to curl in anticipation. Her tongue traces the outline of each lettering on his skin, and Choso could feel the precum on his tip immediately stain his Calvin Klein boxers. 

"Fuck!" He breathed out, letting his head sink into the back of his hands resting behind his head. 

His boxers were removed, and soon, his body relaxed under the feeling of her tongue licking at the precum on his tip as if it were a sweet delight. He peeks through his long eyelashes at the way her tongue glides up and down his thick shaft before engulfing his cock in her mouth without a care. The sound of Y/N gagging on his cock followed by the sight of saliva pooling out her mouth caused Choso’s skin to heat up instantly. He removed one hand from the back of his head to palm at the top of her head. His fingers fiddle with the silk scarf that protects her hair for the night while he guides her head up and down his hardened cock like a sports ball on a court. 

His dark eyes opened and were met with Y/N’s, whose hands flickered up and down his cock before briefly letting the pad of her thumb rub at his plump pink-shaded tip, smearing the precum and saliva that coated it. It drove Choso mad at the way she looked at him. It was as if he was the best thing since sliced bread when, in reality, Choso was just some musician who, on some days, couldn’t even keep his eyes open as he was in the studio high on whatever drug he consumed that morning. 

She released his cock with a pop before she removed the remaining amount of clothes. First, it was the yellow-colored Calvin Klein cheeky underwear—she was a brand ambassador for them (of course, he knew that). Then, it was the oversized t-shirt that belonged to him that she managed to look better in. Her brown skin glistened in the sunlight that shone through the high-rise windows in Choso’s penthouse. The warmth of her thighs on his side from straddling his lip caused Choso to smile. His eyebrows raised in curiosity at what was her next move. When he said, help yourself—he didn’t expect her to want to ride him. 

His body tensed up at the feeling of her cunt sinking further down on his cock. His body instantly reacted immediately because that was just the charm Y/N had on him. The littlest things could have had his cock twitching in whatever pair of sweatpants he wore. His fingers clutched at her waist while he guided her hips at a pace that was wonderful for both of them to enjoy. Such a little thing like this made Choso realize even more why that insane impulse idea he did the previous night was even more justified. He was in love. He showed it when they had sex. From his last relationships and embarrassing one-night stands that led to signed NDAs, he didn’t care to use them for a quick nut and go on about his business. But with her, with Y/N, he made love to her as if, just in the blink of an eye, she wouldn’t be here anymore. He ate her out as if it was the last thing he had eaten in fuckin’ centuries. He wanted all of her when he had a vision to please her when they had sex. 

“Look at you,” Choso’s voice is a sweet, teasing tune, similar to his most recent single. His fingers trace the outline of her stretch marks that connect from her thighs to her love handles. “Helpin’ yourself. Need help?” He chuckles.

Quickly, he’s thrusting his hips upward to meet Y/N’s sudden bounce. He felt her nails piercing his bare chest, bracing herself for his abrupt thrusting. Her plump, kiss-swollen lips gasped apart to let out a moan that caused Choso to feel feral. He wanted to flip her over—have his fuckin’ way with her. Fuck her into the mattress to show to her that she was his and only his. It was the only way—but no, Choso had to let her do her. Let her fuck him how she pleases. 

So the grasp he had on her waist loosened. His thrusts that met with her bouncing abruptly stopped, and he relaxed under her weight. The only thing the rockstar could do was glance up at her completely lovestruck—completely pussy drunk. 

“Thought you were helping me, hm?” She questions in between raspy whimpers that make Choso’s cock harder. 

“You’re a big girl, and you got it covered.” He spat back.

She couldn’t even respond to his words because she got lost in the pleasure of his cock kissing at that spot, which caused her to feel like she was on the fluffiest cloud. Her hips rocked backward and forwards. The headboard clashed against the wall, and Choso thanked every God that the property next to his was empty. He did not have the energy or time to deal with noise complaints. Especially given Y/N’s moans that only grew louder as she bounced on his cock as if it was the most critical task. He was trying so hard not to grab upon her, slam her harder on his cock—milk her out until she creamed on him. But no, he told her to help herself. 

“That’s my girl.” His brown eyes met hers when those words of praise fluttered off his lips.

If Choso could look close enough, he could see a sparkle in her eyes, and her pussy clench around his cock. 

“You’re doing well, Y/N. Is that what you want to hear?” He teasingly questioned. “You look so fucking beautiful riding me.” He adds, but this time—he no longer could control his impulse to feel upon his girlfriend. 

He ached for her touch. 

His hand finally found the place on her waist to help bob her upon his cock. His face flushed and was so hot— Choso knew that when his face got as red as the bottom of Y/N’s favorite red bottoms, he was about to cum. He felt his balls grow heavier with each pounce of Y/N, and the only thing he could utter was her name as if it was a lyric in one of his songs charting on the Billboard 100. 

“Fuck, I’m about to—” His words were cut off by Y/N.

“Me too, baby.” She huffs, rocking her hips fast to reach her pleasure wave. “Just tell me one thing, baby. Please.” She coos, and Choso can only nod. 

Whatever she wanted, she could have. Whatever she needed, she could get. Choso would give her the whole world plus some with how she rode him. 

“Tell me you love me.”

“Fuck, Y/N. You know I love you. I wouldn’t get your name tattooed on me.” Choso breathed out. 

“But I want you to say it when you cum,” She moans out. “So you have it imprinted on that silly brain of yours who makes you feel like that.”

Choso glanced into her eyes and realized she was serious about this. He was yanking her down so that her chest was on his and thrusting his hips upward, embracing her in a heated kiss that made him feel intoxicated. He was so intoxicated that he was questioning whether he should pull out now. Her teeth nibble at his lower lip just in time for them to come together. The feeling of her cunt pulsing around his cock drove the rockstar insane. When he pulled back from the kiss, his sweat-covered forward pressed against hers as he thrusts a couple more times, ensuring every droplet of his cum stayed inside her. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 

#choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #female reader #black reader #jjk x black reader #choso smut #choso kamo x black reader #angelshubnetwork #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

[lavenderrmidnightss]

Safe and Sound - Billy the Kid

Billy the Kid (tom blyth) x fem!reader 

Summary: While walking home one evening from the inn, a man comes across you and attempts to attack you. You are saved by Billy and he begins to grow very protective over you, right from the start.

Warnings: Attempted SA (not successful), cursing

Word Count: 1.9k

PART 2 IS HERE

The walk home felt like a near impossible task despite the reality of it being less than a mile walk. Working at the local inn was not lightwork as some may think. Taking care of others can be exhausting when you have so little to pour out of your cup. The sky’s hues were transitioning from its cerulean blue into shades of purples and pinks. Your eyes were trained on the varying colors that dared to come out as the day shifted into evening. The sunset resembled a masterpiece brushed on a canvas by a renowned artist. With each step, your eyes never failed to tear away from the beauty above you. Each step you took filled the air with echoes of crunching due to the diminutive pieces of gravel hidden in the dirt. Hard to see, but easy to feel through the sole of your shoe. Your commute home seemed to be working as a medium of decompressing until sudden movement out of your peripheral vision stole your attention. You caught a glimpse of a man stumbling towards you. Your instinct to move quickly kicked in, but you knew better. Acting afraid would only entice the man more. ‘Just keep your eyes forward. Just make it home,’ you thought to yourself. 

“Where’s a pretty lady like yourself headed?” a coarse voice entered the atmosphere, demanding your focus. You looked over my shoulder, looking at him. Just a couple inches above your own height, he held a gaze on you to imply his superiority. 

“And that’s your business, how?” you inquire, daring to stop in your tracks and face him. His complexion smeared with ash and hair slicked with sweat, your wonderings of who he was and why he was approaching you intensified. 

The man’s eyebrow’s furrowed, accentuating dense lines and creases in his forehead. He made his way up to you, closing you in. “Well ya sure do got a lot of nerve, don’t ya?” He diabolically chuckled. You began to internally squirm as he noticeably began to eye you.

 “Look at you. Exhausted. Looks like you’ve been on your feet for quite some time, haven’t ya?” He interrogated, allowing himself to continue looking you over. You could only imagine what he was envisioning as his eyes fixated on your chest.

 “Look like a hardworkin’ woman. I admire that. Ya know, everybody has to earn their keep in these parts..” his voice trailed off just as his body began waltzing closer to yours, entrapping you. Your back soon crashed against a raggedy, abandoned building you weren’t even aware you were passing. It’s astonishing how much your mind evaporates when your main focus is survival. You knew where this was leading. You’ve seen so many women be taken, raped. Even some of your own friends. Men don’t view women as a treasure, but rather an accessory designed to bring them pleasure. It had become an intrusive thought; when would it happen to you? Looks like reality finally caught up with your nightmares.

His calloused hand toyed with the hem of your dress before slipping under. The rough texture of his skin clashed with the silkiness of your own. You were frozen in fear. His face now hovered in front of yours. “Bet you could be a real good worker for me, couldn’t ya?” A condescending smirk decorated his face. 

Your stomach churned. “Get off of me. Right now.” The short demands came out urgently. Your hands moved to defend yourself, preparing to shove his stocky body off yours. However, you underestimated his strength and build. He grabbed your wrists and shoved your arms above your head, pinning them there. 

“Fiesty too? They say that manifests well in the bed,” his growl echoed in your ear, his face grazing yours. “Mm, you’ll fit right in. Just be good for me, would ya? Listen to what I say and do as you're told, and you’ll be treated well.”

“Fuck off,” you spat in his face, jabbing your knee up to jolt his gut. He stumbled back, releasing you. You took the opportunity to sprint away. The world moved in slow motion. Your feet couldn’t carry you fast enough. Time resumed when you felt two hands snatching your waist, slamming you to the ground. The husky body which entrapped you before immediately went for it again, but this time, pinning you into the dirt and gravel mixture where your feet once stood. The pain you once felt radiating from the sole of your shoe, walking on the road, now pierced deeply into your back. You squirmed, trying to loosen yourself from him. It was no use. 

“Gonna be a bitch? Then I’ll take you right here for free, show you what you’re missing,” he grumbled, beginning to unbuckle his pants. Continuously trying to make your way out, no amount of thrashing would free you. Looking around you, you tried to decide if screaming for help was even worth it. Who would hear you? You were alone with this man. Your eyes darted up to the sky only to find the pastel colors which once delicately danced above you had descended into darkness. 

“P-Please, no, I’ll go with you. I’ll listen. Just, please don’t. Not here, I-” you were a stuttering mess, hoping your pleads would be enough to convince him to get off you. You squeezed your eyes shut. If you didn’t see it, maybe it would be quick and over with? Maybe it would sting less? As soon as your eyes shut, the weight of his body completely lifted off of you. You thought you were dreaming it, that it wasn’t reality. However, the sound of a heavy thud crashing to the ground, along with groaning and pounding, you were assured you were safe. 

You open your eyes to find a significantly taller man had swept in. His messy, brunette ringlets dangled in front of his sculpted face as his feet consistently and harshly came in contact with the enemy’s stomach. You weren’t one for violence, but you admitted that seeing this mystery lifesaver relentlessly pounding into this bastard was a joy. You sat up, finding a pair of sapphire eyes lighting the darkness, striking you. 

“What’re you waiting for? Go, run,” he called out to you, before putting all his attention back on the attacker. You stumbled to your feet, backing up to guard your body behind a railing. However, your eyes stayed on the match. Really, just the one who swept in to save the day. You studied him closely. 

The stocky man who had attempted to pull at the one hovering over him. You were taken aback when in quick response, zero wait time, blue eyes drew out a gun, aiming it at him. “Try that again, and it’ll be the last damn thing you do,” he growled, cocking the gun. The man on the ground shrunk by tenfold. You watched as fear washed over him, the metal rim dangling in his face. Holy shit. 

“Get up,” blue eyes demanded him, watching as he slowly stood. The demand in his voice was filled with such hatred. The man who was once so confident now trembled in fear for his life, his hands going in the air. Blue eyes kept his aim on the man before him. “Get out of this town. Far away. Let me so far as see a glimpse of you around these parts, and you’re a dead man. Got it?” The trembling man nodded shakily and quickly, sprinting off without another word.

 Suddenly, the world got quiet. Finally. You emerged from your temporary hiding place just as the man who saved your life turned to face you. “Thank you,” you managed to get out. “I-I don’t know what I would’ve done, what would’ve happened if-” A drawn out, thick accent cut you off. 

“I’m sure of what would’ve happened, and it would’ve been awful. What’re you doin’ anyway, walking around here this time of evenin’ all by yourself?” He secured his gun into its holster as he made his way over to me. His demeanor was entirely different. He radiated protection, genuinity. Minutes prior, you were trying to escape a nightmare. Now, you were being drawn in by a stranger’s kind act and handsome features. You felt safe. How refreshing. 

“I was just heading home from the inn. What’s your name?” you asked, desperate to know the name of the one who guarded you. 

“Name’s Billy. And you?” Billy. His name etched into your mind, knowing it would now hold a priority in the forefront of your thoughts. You told him your name, to which he nodded. “How about I get you home?”

With that, Billy guided you on the path back home. The gravel didn’t seem so daunting against your soles now. Under the pitch black sky adorned with stars, you had Billy to protect you. The walk to your place wasn’t filled with much conversation, but when it was, you were fascinated by his thoughts and the sound of his voice. 

Once he had successfully guided you to your destination, you noted that his eyes scanned over the place almost as if he were attempting to memorize its design and build. Billy didn’t want to leave you. He couldn’t invite himself in, couldn’t insist you to leave with him. Not after what he had just saved you from. He knew if there was a shot in hell he was going to gain your trust, he had to demonstrate he was worthy of it. 

“He didn’t hurt you, right, darlin’?” Billy’s tone was now hushed, almost as if it solidified his authenticity. Billy’s eyes were a shade you had never seen before, but a shade you would quickly find filling your dreams. Your heart admittedly flipped at the sound of the pet name rolling off his tongue so effortlessly. 

“No, he didn’t. You got there just in time. Thank you, Billy. Again. Don’t know how I could ever return the favor for what you’ve done for me.” Billy’s smile lit up the night sky, melting you from head to toe. He shook his head, shrugging. 

“No greater pleasure than protecting ya. Now, get in and get some rest.” Billy watched you disappear into your house, the screen door creaking behind you. It felt wrong to leave you so abruptly. Never before had he felt a desire to stay up long hours of the night getting to know another before, but for you, he ached to. Billy couldn’t leave you. As you went in and laid down, wondering where Billy was headed off to and if you would ever even see him again, Billy sat down on the steps of your porch. Adjusting himself, his back aligned with the post. Leaning his head back, he pushed the strands of hair out of his face. He basked in the breeze of the night, listening to the harmony of varying late night insects. He also intently listened for any potential danger, looking to protect you at all costs. Maybe it was the innocence in your voice that enticed him. Maybe it was the way your hair flowed down, the way you were unafraid to fight that enthralled him. Regardless of how it happened, Billy had an instantaneous desire to keep you out of harm’s way, no matter what it cost. As you laid in bed, you thought of Billy. As he leaned against your porch that night, he knew he was doing his job. He was keeping you safe and sound.

______________________________________________________________

#tom blyth #billy the kid x reader #tom blyth x you #tom blyth fanfiction #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x you #fanfic #protective #billy the kid x fem!reader

[strawberrystepmom]

YOU ARE A FEVER | gojo x f!reader | series masterlist | next chapter

cw: mentions of witchcraft and witch hunting. reader has defined physical characteristics (red hair, long length, wavy texture), two sisters, and a complexion that visibly reddens. word count 2.6k.

Is this the sum of my life?

It is not your intention to seem ungrateful for the gift of the years you have lived so far, all twenty something of them, though you will admit grace is difficult when the scratchy fibers of hemp rope binding your wrists together scrape against you with every twist and pull of your hands. One of your neighbors binds you while another digs through the meager belongings, picking through pages of your current journal.

“What are you going to do to me?”

The small mob of people occupying your grandparents kitchen is wordless despite their zeal, no God chosen leader speaking above the crowd to read out your crimes. There is no fairness in this trial and any words you dare speak will only be used to further persecute you.

“A witch alright,” the man picking through the pages of your journal exclaims while holding up a page he ripped from its handbound spine. It’s a page of rudimentary drawings, doodles of a shooting star you witnessed while out in the woods one night alone, and he holds it up triumphantly. The sneer across his face makes you flinch. “Does your family know about you and what you’ve done to them?”

You’ve done nothing though you consider for a moment that this has been your crime. You’ve let them whisper about you and the things you’ve “done” for months, deciding to ignore the rumors rather than address them for fear of stirring more controversy.

“I’m not a witch.”

Your words land with no one and you are given little more than a sidelong glance from the people in your home. The same woman who used to plait your hair when you were a child, just as you have now done for hers many times since their birth ten years ago, refuses to meet your eye while securing another length of rope around your waist. She knots it tightly as though it’s the difference between you remaining where you stand and bolting barefooted into an early winter night, something you hadn’t even considered until now.

There is always the option of running but they’d give chase, a small group of fifteen can still outrun a single woman before she can even make it into the woods. The trees and shrubs miles outside of the dirt road leading to Ucra, your village, have been your refuge from the suffocation of restrictive superstition since you found your hiding places as a young girl.

“What have I done?” Your pleas fall on deaf ears and although you’ve tried your hardest to remain unaffected and stoic, sobs hiccup from the back of your throat before you can stop them. “Will someone please explain what’s happening? Where are my grandparents and sisters?”

You’d be indignant over this treatment if it were less painful to be treated this way by your neighbors and friends, people you once viewed as aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters. Tears fall down your cheek while the woman whose eyes are still downturned gently pulls the tether end of the rope, guiding you out of the small home your family has shared for two generations. 

“Witch!” 

The word strikes you as colder than the earth and rocks your feet walk across, led by the tether of a rope. There was no consideration for your comfort and goosebumps erupt over your cotton nightgown covered skin. The winter air is almost freezing at night and you glance upward toward the sky, a blanket of stars winking down at you. The night sky has always been more beautiful this time of year. It feels bitter to glance above knowing it’s the last time you will ever do so.

“Witch!”

This time the accusation comes from the lips of a child, the tender age of twelve, one you’ve clothed and bathed more times you can count in an effort to assist her mother. Your role in your village has always been that of a caretaker, if not animals and children then the elderly and ill. The entire village once called you responsible and always where you’re supposed to be though it appears the goodwill only extends as long as they aren’t suspicious.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“What crimes have I committed?”

“Treason!” One of the members of the crowd shouts. “Adultery! My husband admitted to having impure thoughts about you! Cut off her hair so that we can bury it in the woods and it won’t curse another. Flame colored hair is a sign from the Devil!” Another shouts and a few women join her words in unison, your mouth running dry. “Murderer! The goats!”

The goats. Before autumn two of your goats fell ill, several weeks ago two more died unexpectedly. The small, reclusive village lacked the supplies needed to stave off the infection that started in their gums and eventually took their lives. Did this begin all the way back then, before you could ever fathom this cruelty being inflicted upon you?

“My goats were killed too.”

The man tying you to the stake in the middle of the village sneers at your muttered words. 

“Of course they were. You thought we’d never suspect you if you killed your own first.”

A pained groan leaves your mouth when the back of your head hits the stake sharply, the man standing in front of you using his forearm to press you against the wood. You attempt to arch your back but are met with another forearm pressed against your torso, someone behind you securing the ropes around your feet, wrists, and middle to the wooden stake they’re planning on burning you on.

“I didn’t do anything!”

Another chuckle from the man pressing his forearm against your sternum, his face inches from yours.

“You’ve been using your cat familiars to spy on all of us, we know your games.”

If you were less shocked by everything happening you would argue that the cats come to you and not the other way around although it wouldn’t do you any good at this point anyway. Everyone’s minds are made up and you look out across the crowd, squinting to see if you can find your family anywhere. There is no sight of them and you are both relieved and terrified, shuddering breath leaving you while your hands are fastened above your head.

“Witch!” The crowd continues to shout in unison, the ringleader backing away to hold oil and a torch in front of everyone looking on that cheers for him to light you up. “Burn her!” 

The crackling sound of wood being set alight fills the night air, melting the light snowflakes that are falling into tiny puddles. You shut your eyes tightly and cry wordlessly, smoke filling your nostrils. You hope that inhalation takes you before the flames do, that some God takes mercy on a woman falsely accused, striking her accusers down. You pray and plead and beg and when you feel the air around you shift, your eyes open to see a man standing directly in front of you.

You recognize him. 

Satoru Gojo, the man always making the trip to pick up meat and produce for the cafe owner in the city. The man whose smile and eyes are etched in your daydream, their memories messy little sketches in the pages of your journal that will never be returned to you. 

“Sorry I’m late, do you know how hard it is to sneak around a village this small without being noticed?”

The man shakes his head, unable to hide that you are not giving him the reaction that he was expecting. Your world is blazing everywhere you look but he is not. He remains unscathed, hair the same color as the stars above dipping over his eyebrows and touching the tips of his eyelashes that are the same color.

“So they’ve called you a witch, huh?” Glancing at him, you blink silently with a quivering bottom lip. A pair of vaguely familiar large eyes dance over every feature and crease of your face, impressed by what they see despite the circumstances. The unbelievable man in front of you is unable to hide his expressions, head tilted with a little smile on his face. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Another sob bubbles out of you. Your body reacts, finally, and you strain against the ropes that bind you and secure you to the stake.

“Please, please, please get me down,” your chest heaves and the white nightgown draped over your frame turns more gray from exposure to smoke with each moment that passes. The heat of the flames licks your feet. A fresh round of tears streams down your face, finally forcing Satoru to move. He reaches above your head, loosening your bindings with his fingers while his magic handles the ones securing your feet and waist. A few seconds feels like an eternity as orange flames give way to hotter blue ones at the heart of the fire and as soon as your arms are free, you wrap them around his neck and cling to him. He chuckles and wraps one arm around your waist, holding you to him tightly.

“They won’t be able to see us leave.” You nod in response to his whisper, holding onto him tightly. “But they will come looking as soon as they realize there are no bones and ashes in the morning.”

These people wanted to wake up to nothing but a pile of you left. Your stomach churns and you squeeze this practical stranger tightly, wrapping your legs around his waist, face buried against his shoulder. Your tears dampen his shirt although he doesn’t mind and before you can think, the heat of the flames disappears and gives way to a whoosh of cooling air. 

The two of you materialize inside of a makeshift hideout, stone cave walls surrounding you on all sides when you unbury your face from his neck and look around. Blinking, you look upward and downward and finally directly in front of you. Gojo grins at you, arm still wrapped around your waist and holding you against him.

“Hi there.”

Adrenaline moves your body on its own, beckoning you to lean forward and press your lips against his. You’ve dreamed about this moment before, the day you would be brave enough to kiss this glamorous man who is from a city you have only ever heard about secondhand, and while this feels different it also feels like the exact way to say thank you. 

Your lips pucker a second time and press against his though your senses return and your eyes widen, arms unwrapping from around his neck to push yourself away from him. 

“Is that how you thank everyone who saves your life?”  Your mouth opens and closes silently, words that you want to say refusing to form on your tongue. Satoru has managed to render you speechless and he smirks while keeping his gaze pinned to your shocked face, cheeks still reddened thanks to the blaze you barely escaped from. “Even if it is, I won’t hold it against you.”

Finally you scoff and your body wakes up all at once, attempting to wiggle free from his grasp. He sets you down on the ground below and steps away, holding his hands up innocently. You wrap your own arms around your chest, hands smoothing up and down your forearms to comfort yourself. Looking around the unfamiliar surroundings, you begin crying again.

“Why did you save me?”

He smirks, holding his arms open and glancing at you exaggeratedly.

“I can’t let a pretty girl get burned alive in good conscience, I’m a gentleman after all.”

More tears drip down your nose and chin while you shake your head incredulously, eyes wide.

“That doesn’t answer my question. How did you know? Did you tell them I was..?”

“Absolutely not. You are a witch but I know you didn’t do what they accused you of,” he retorts with a raised brow. “I mean, maybe you are guilty of the fantasy accusation but that’s hardly your fault. Pretty hair, pretty girl…things are bound to happen.”

Gojo reaches out to wrap one of the long strands of your hair around his finger, marveling at the color. You reach up to slap his hand away and he drops the strand, giving you room to pace across the stone floor of the hideaway he has secured you in.

“I’m not a witch!” Chuckling, he sits down on the small bed in the corner of the room and crosses his legs one over the other. “Is that all you took away from everything I just said? You are weird, I was right.”

Feet carrying you forward, you plop next to him on the bed. You know Satoru Gojo but you don’t know him. You know he’s from Amavel, his friend runs a cafe and he’s the only one daring enough to make the quarter of a day’s journey to your village to pick up fresh goods for said cafe. You know he’s charming, everyone in the village gawks at him every time he’s around though it doesn’t answer your question.

“I am weird and scared and I don’t know where my family is and a man I’ve met a handful of times but think about often came out of nowhere to save me from certain death and,” your words tumble out endlessly, breathlessly, and he stops you with a finger to your lips. He withdraws it as soon as you stop speaking and raises his brows, lowering his face until the two of you are eye level.

“Because you’re special.”

Shaking your head, you refuse to believe his words and stand once again. His hand gently closes around your dangling forearm and he pulls you back down to the bed, rubbing his thumb along the inside of your arm the same way you remember your mother doing to comfort you as a child. 

“Listen to me before you say anything else.” He instructs and you nod wordlessly, letting him speak. “I saved you because I’ve known for a long time that you are a witch. You don’t have to believe me now but I will prove it to you, okay? I’m going to keep you safe here until the village has given up looking for you and then we will return to Amavel.”

Sighing, you find it hard to argue with a man who seems so certain of everything he says. You lean forward and place your elbows on your knees, turning your palms upward and burying your face in them. The option of running is still on the table though you know it’s unsafe for you to do so in just a nightgown and bare feet so you turn your face toward him, cheeks still warm from the fire, just the fire, and not the way his gaze remains fixed on your face as if he’s afraid to look away.

“How are you so certain?”

Gojo grins and leans in your direction, finally touching you the way he wants. A large palm rubs your back and eventually works down your shoulder and upper arm, settling on scooping one of your hands into his.

“Because I am a witch, you silly girl. How do you think we got here so fast?”

A raised brow is your only response, too shocked by the truth to speak, and he lifts the back of your hand to his mouth to kiss it. That same look as before is on your face, awestruck and overwhelmed. There is an overwhelming urge inside of the man to gloat about your surprise but he thinks better of it, knowing there will be plenty of time for the two of you to discuss your future together.

#satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #kendall writes #yaaf au #you are a fever #satoken

[st4rymoon]

♥︎ 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 ♥︎

𝟏𝟖+ | 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 | 𝐂𝐚𝐦 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 | 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐱 𝐀𝐟𝐚𝐛 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: digital sex, dildo! Riding/sucking, masterbation ( m and f) needy Steven, language

“Steven honey, look at me” you pouted through the screen, you were laid on your tummy and had your head rested in your palms. “I swear I’ll be home soon” you tried to reassure Steven, he could always be so clingy when you went away.

“When? Tomorrow? Please love” Steven was a complete mess, you could see how flushed his complexion was through the screen. “Wednesday” you sighed.

“That’s 4 days from now?!” He whined “I know, I know” you groaned. Steven’s eyes watched you as you lifted the computer from your bed and placed it on the ground in front of you. “How about I make it up right now huh? Get on the bed for me Steven” you cooed.

His eyes watched in admiration as you pulled your top off. He did as told, he was comfortably laid on his pillows. Steven let out a pathetic whine as you pulled out your silicon dildo which was impressively similar to his. Color, size, and girth.

Without even having to tell him, he was already half way with kicking off his boxers. “Miss you so much Steven, can’t wait to see you” you cooed as you pulled your panties off.

“Me too honey, I miss you fu- fuck” Steven whined as you faced the camera and placed the dildo in front of you “always fuck myself with this pretending it’s you when I’m alone Steven, it’s the closest thing I’ll get to you” you purred.

Steven’s hand wrapped around his cock, his tip already angrily spilling precum as he pumped his cock. You sat on the silicon toy, moaning at the feeling of its cold texture. You watched as steven pathetically fucked his hand, his eyes trained on how your pussy took the skin toned toy.

He pictured himself under you, letting you fuck yourself onto his lap as he lapped at your tits. “A- ah fu- fuck! I love you, miss you” he looked perfect as his curls bounced onto his sweaty forehead.

The sounds of your moans and the slapping of your thighs hitting the ground proving you could fit him inside was so much for Steven. He whined and whimpered as he watched your sticky slick stringing onto the base of the toy.

“You feel so good, so good Steven” you cried as you swayed your hips in circles, and with that, Steven’s warm cum pumped out onto his chest. His pretty moans spilling you over the edge as you watched his stomach clench and jaw tense.

His eyes admired you as your pussy clenched around the toy, your cunt leaking with your own cum as you pulled out the messy toy. “Clean it up for me” Steven whispered, his mouth agar as you smiled up at him with a nod.

You backed up a little, aligning the toy towards the camera and sucking it clean. You moaned and purposely gave him your doe eyes “fuck love, gonna make me cum again” he chuckled.

#smut #marvel smut #kinktober #steven grant smut #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #steven smut #steven grant #oscar issac characters #moonknight smut #moonknight x reader #moon knight smut #moon knight

[azulock]

another thing that was sitting in my drats for way too long, pt 2 to pregnancy needs so you should go back and reader that first, but that one is porn without plot, this one has more plot

summary. at the end of your pregnancy, when the big moment approached, Oliver's affair with you had to be put on hold as you just stopped showing up. it stayed that way until a few months after your son was born, but when you go back to your old routine he sees a chance to get back to your old ways, though something else lurks in his mind

pairing. Oliver Aiku x fem!reader

wordcount. 3,9k

warnings. nsfw (piv), reader has a baby, mentions of the pregnancy, once again reader cheating on her husband

trying not to think.

"Aww, isn't him cute?" Sendo beamed, bright eyes glued on the small baby held in his arms. The little boy cooed in return, the small sound barely audible as he reached a hand towards Sendo's hair, wrapping a tiny fist tight around it. "Ouch, hey, hey, little guy, this hurts."

Oliver couldn't help but laugh as the redhead struggled to get the boy to release his hair, but with a little patience, he managed the task. Finally freed, Sendo babbled along with the baby for a second before moving to pass him on to Oliver's arms, a knowing grin spreading across his face when his friend froze in hesitation for a moment. In a way, the situation was funny, if a bit weird.

When he finally managed to hold the boy in his arms, it was like the whole situation dawned on him. This was the first time you'd visited the club in a couple of months - ever since little before the birth of your son - and he'd barely even seen your face. Now, he was holding your baby.

Oliver had caught you talking to Sendo when he was passing by, heading out for lunch. You'd befriended Sendo way before you even exchanged words with Oliver, so it made sense he'd be the first in the team you'd show your newborn to. When he spotted the two of you in the training center, a part of him was hoping that maybe he'd be able to get a word in after not seeing you in months.

Tough, he wasn't so lucky. The minute he stepped close, someone else called you, and you excused yourself, asking Sendo to hold the baby as you stepped away. He'd barely even gotten to hear your voice - and Oliver didn't want to dwell on how that made him feel right now. Especially not when he was trying to wrap his head around the boy he now held in his arms.

Small babies all looked sort of the same. He guessed it was more a feature than a bug, probably at some point in the distant past, if you couldn't tell which child was yours and which wasn't, you were more likely to care about all of them. Or so he guessed, at least. But despite that, the more obvious features connecting the child to you were there.

The little boy shared the complexion of your skin, the tiny birthmark you had on the side of your neck, and the color of your eyes too. Oliver couldn't help but think of that last part as a relief. Sometimes he'd think about what would have happened if the kid had been born with green eyes. Or purple. Or worse, both.

That would be the end of his career, at least in the Ubers, that was for sure. And probably a scandal for you too, a far more cruel fate, seeing he could always retreat back to Japan. But that had been avoided. The boy did have deep black hair, though still too short and soft to discern what the texture would be like. But this too could be explained away - your husband's hair was black, so you were both safe on that front too.

However, that still left more questions open than closed - ah, he had just been handed the child, he shouldn't be thinking on that now. The baby looked at him as if just as deep in thought before babbling on happily, making Oliver feel an invisible force tugging at the corner of his lips. He couldn't deny the little boy looked cute, clad in a onesie adorned with the coat of the club.

"Hey there, little guy, you really are cute, look at those big ol' cheeks," Oliver cooed as the boy made a cheerful noise, the small gesture bringing a strange warmth to his heart. He adjusted his hold on the child, and that's when the boy's tiny hand reached up. Before Oliver could react, the baby caught a fistful of his chin. "Fuck, hey now, that's not nice."

It was Sendo's turn to laugh, watching as Oliver pried himself free from the aggressively affectionate baby. He gave the child one last look, heavy gaze taking in how the boy looked so small cradled in his arms, but his tiny body still managed to spread its warmth to Oliver's chest. With a sigh and shake of his head, he passed the boy back to Sendo - somehow, even if your affair hadn't been found out, it felt safer not to risk your husband seeing him holding the baby.

Little after Sendo took the boy back in his arms, you showed up. However, you wasted little time with proper compliments and little small talk as you took the baby back in your arms, and quickly you excused yourself and left again. Though your stay was short, Oliver couldn't help noticing the bags under your eyes. Still, he kept his mouth shut, and in no time both him and Sendo were making their way out for lunch.

"So," Sendo broke the silence after the waiter set their food on the table, "you think the boy is yours?"

It was only in the relative safety of the somewhat hidden cafe that either of them felt safe to broach the subject again. Oliver couldn't help the sigh that left his lips at the blunt inquiry, slumping back into his chair as he rubbed his eyes with one hand. That was the question hanging above his head, and although he knew it was one with a good and a bad answer, Oliver himself wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

"Hard to tell," he groaned, looking down at his plate for a moment before finally turning to face Sendo, "but I guess that's for the best. Has she told you anything about that?"

"Never touched the subject," he shrugged.

"Did you ever even ask?"

"How would I ask, Aiku? Turn to her like hey, you think that kid is your husband's or from your affair you had with the captain of the team he manages?" Sendo leaned forward, muttering the last part, but the words still ringing too loud in Oliver's ears.

"Haha very funny," his voice came in a sneer, an expression he hardly ever had to shoot in Sendo's direction. "You two are friends, I thought she'd have told you something."

"Sorry if this hurts your ego, but she doesn't talk about you much, at least not to me," Sendo added with a half hearted smile and a nonchalant wave of his hand. Though, his eyebrows quickly furrowed in estrangement when he noticed Oliver's hesitation, and the weird stillness that settled over him. "Wait, that actually hurt your ego?"

"Forget it, never mind, some questions are better unanswered," he grumbled, and a silence fell for a moment as they both ate, though, it didn't last. "Did she look... tired to you? Like, the bags under her eyes were noticeable."

"Well, she did just have a child," Sendo shrugged, "babies are hard, or so I've been told."

"Yeah, but, it's not like they are a struggling family, you'd figure she would have help."

"They got a nanny, I think. But if you haven't noticed, her husband hasn't even taken a leave. For all I know, the guy isn't very interested i helping," Sendo added with a shake of his head, eyes downcast as he took a bite of his food.

"He really is a good for nothing," Oliver mused, mimicking his friend's expression.

"That's why I never even tried to stop you," Sendo shook his shoulders and there was a pause, a moment filled with only the sound of the restaurant before it was broken. "Though, you worried about her?"

Before he could answer they both heard the loud and familiar voice of Lorenzo, turning to the side they caught their teammate just entering the cafe. With an exchange of knowing looks, the conversation died. And for a moment there, Oliver actually felt relieved. There were things he didn't want to think too hard on right now.

Time would pass, and for a couple of months he'd hardly manage to catch sight of you. And whoever he did, you always had your baby in your arms. Despite what some would think, he had more respect than to try and make a move on you under those circumstances.

The next time he'd finally see you alone would be after you returned to your work as a photographer with the club, on the day of a match. It was strange to think about it now, but sometimes even during matches he'd find himself looking at the point in the sidelines where you usually worked from. Seeing someone else in there for so long was strangely off-putting.

Of course, during match day approaching you would be impossible - and absurdly reckless. But that just assured him you'd be back to the training center at some point, seeing you were the one in charge of social media and PR photos. Just as expected, it wouldn't be long for Oliver to be proven right - and just on a day your useless husband was on a work trip.

In a way, it was like settling back into a routine. Approaching you in an empty hallway, pulling you into some isolated room, and then having your body turn to putty in his hands. And although he'd had his fair share of women in the past few months, he couldn't deny he missed the taste of your lips - fuck, he knew there was danger in this.

This time, however, you hesitated to say you'd be alone today - no husband, no nanny, though he knew alone was a relative term in this case. But he didn't hesitate to say you wouldn't need to be, not as long as he had a say in it. And just like that, he was back to taking a different route home. Sure, it was shameful to be sneaking into somebody else's home, but at this point, he didn't really care.

Just as Oliver stepped foot into your house, it didn't take long for you two to end up tangled in bed. It was like falling back into a habit - an addiction, maybe. One he'd kept an unbroken streak of freedom from for a few months, now shattered in his very hands. Not that he minded, not when those same hands found purchase on the plush of your thighs while he crushed you under him on the bed.

The sight before him was definitely a beautiful one, having you sprawled and panting under his frame was still something else. Your clothes were left somewhere along the floor of the room and your naked body only stoked the fire burning in him, the only thing separating your bodies now being the thin fabric of his boxers. Oliver had never been someone to be in a rush, he always liked just taking his time but right now he was too frenzied for that.

You cry out his name and Oliver dives into your lips like a starving man, your tongues tangling in a sloppy and wet kiss. He doesn't wanna think about how he missed this taste, this feeling, and the warmth it spread through his body. So he just indulges in the sweet taste of your mouth and the soft embrace of your body, pushing back the voice in his head that's trying to be rational at a time like this.

He digs his fingers into your thighs, trying to remember not to grope you too hard so he won't leave a mark - something now more than ever he really wishes he could. That too he pushes to the back of his mind, rocking his hips into yours, pressing his bulge against your pussy, and feeling your wetness seep into the fabric of his boxers.

With a reluctant grunt, Oliver breaks your kiss, a string of saliva connecting the two of you for a moment as your mouths separate. However he doesn't stay away for long, quickly taking off his underwear, his erection painfully hard and already leaking precum. In the blink of an eye, he is back to where he was before, fingers digging into your soft thighs as he wraps your legs around his waist, lips seeking the warmth of your mouth once again.

You pull Oliver closer with your legs, making his cock slide over your wet pussy, drawing a moan from the both of you. He climbs over you, holding himself above you with one arm, his free hand finding your chest and gently kneading one of your breasts as your lips meet. Truth be told he wanted nothing more than to sink his mouth on your tender nipples again, but he knew he shouldn't - what with the baby now.

Oliver feels you moan into the kiss when he rubs his cock over your pussy once more, teasing your clit with every movement. You try to pull him even closer with your legs, trying to get him inside without letting his lips leave yours. Oliver can't help the chuckle that rumbles through his chest and dies on your tongue, your desperation is cute, and it feeds his ego.

Sadly, he is too desperate himself to be playing this game today. So he takes his from your chest to line his sensitive cock with your pussy and in one swift movement he buries himself all the way home. Shit, with how wet you are you really must have been going insane with need. He bites into your bottom lip as you moan, feeling your walls tighten around him, making his cock throb in response. Fuck, he could stay just like this forever.

"Oliver," you whine, clearly having different plans.

"Ooh," he coos with a chuckle, "someone's needy today, huh?" He punctuates his words by pushing himself in even further, hips flush against your own.

"Shit, come on, Oli," you almost whimper, making him shudder, "please."

"Alright, alright," he responds in a whisper, leaving a kiss on the place where your jaw meets your ear. "I'm gonna take care of you, gotta give pretty mamma the relief she deserves."

You sink your nails into his shoulder and he grunts, snapping his hips into motion, drawing himself back to the tip before sinking back in. Fuck, Oliver couldn't resist you - not that he wanted to anyway. It was just way too good, your gummy walls sucking his thick cock into the soft touch of your wetness was almost enough to make him go crazy. And if that wasn't enough, the moans and cries spilling from your lips would finish the job of doing away with his sanity.

Oliver sinks his mouth to your neck, seeking your sensitive skin like a starving man, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses wherever he can touch. You are crying and whimpering in need and desperation, but noticeably far less loud than the last time he'd had a chance to fuck you. It makes sense - wouldn't want to wake the brand new human in the next room - but he can't say he doesn't miss all the noise. Still, not a big enough of a loss to make this any less pleasurable.

The soft and expensive mattress starts to shake around you as Oliver drives himself into your body fast and rough. Your arms come around him and pull his body flush against your own, sweat pooling between the two of you. He could get lost forever in the sensation of your ass slapping against his hips with every thrust and the feeling of your wet pussy begging for his cock. You are mewling, face screwed up in pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head every time he sinks into you - it's a sight that has him breathless.

"Look at you, such a pretty thing, how could anyone neglect you, huh?" He asks but you don't answer, too lost in pleasure to even register, only whimpering when he slips his thumb into your mouth. "Shit, and you sound so good too."

He pulls his thumb from your mouth, a trail of saliva following as it traces a path from your lips to your jaw. Oliver meets you in a sloppy kiss, finding no resistance as your tongue seeks for his own. He slides his hand down your body, kneading your flesh along the way until he finds the place where your hips meet, thumb quickly finding your clit. You moan into the kiss and he swallows it hungrily, feeling your pussy tighten even more.

Oliver curses under his breath, swearing in a low husky tone with every delicious thrust into your velvety walls. Your body feels molded for him, responding to his every movement, your nails digging into his shoulder and back leaving red marks in their wake. It makes him go crazy, cock throbbing and twitching inside of you.

The clenching of your pussy lets Oliver know he is doing things right - but it also drives him mindless with pleasure. He is babbling sweet nothings against your lips, forehead resting against yours as he whispers to you compliments that he won't even remember the second they leave his lips. Shit, if he was still capable of shame, he'd be ashamed at how fast his body responds to yours.

He's doing his best to keep his mind on the task at hand, his fingers never stopping massaging your clit, even as he can feel himself throbbing wildly, the coil in his guts tightening hard. It's not like you make things easier, moaning his name in pleas for more as the walls of your pussy stretch around his thick, twitching cock.

You start to grow silent, only quiet whimpers leaving your lips as your pussy clenches hard around him. Oliver can tell you are close, moving his hips deeper and harder as he murmurs in your ear, lust laced words dripping from his husky tones. It doesn't take much for you to break, orgasm hitting your body and making you tighten around him as you cum.

It's a surprise for Oliver that his mind doesn't give in right then and there, but his self control wins this battle even as his hips move faster and faster, seemingly with a mind of their own. The pleasure warms his body, trickling through his sweat covered skin, rising higher and higher until it has him drooling on your neck, mind completly blank. The hand he had on your clit moves to your leg, pushing your tigh against your chest and letting him go even deeper.

Oliver pushes on, harder and faster, chasing his high. He can feel his balls tighten, his muscles tense, and his cock throb within your walls, precum mixing with your juices making his movements even easier. He's panting between grunts, feeling the pleasure growing ever hotter, ever stronger, building inside until he is bursting at the seams.

When his mind finally snaps, Oliver sees white, stars filling his vision as his orgasm washes over him. His hips still move as he rides through the pleasure in short, deep strokes, burying his cum far into your pussy. It feels like ecstasy, a drug running through his veins, and it's not enough. Just painting your insides white once is not nearly enough.

So he does it again, and again, he doesn't know for how long you two keep on fucking but he cums inside your pussy at least a couple of times. It's like time had gotten lost for him, a concept too complex to exist in that moment. By the end of it, you two are exhausted, left panting on the bed but utterly satisfied. It's pure bliss - he could almost fall asleep if he just closed his eyes.

That's when the crying starts.

"Shit, Luca" you curse under your breath, rubbing your face with both hands. "He's probably hungry, I should go get him."

Your eyes meet his as you speak, before turning to look around for your clothes and trying to get up. Oliver is faster, though, sitting in bed in one swift movement before you can get yourself up.

"It's ok, I can go get him for you."

"You don't need to, it's ok," you say, still trying to get up, but Oliver is already picking up his boxers from the floor and putting them on.

"It's nothing, I can do it for you," he says, putting his pants on before looking you straight in the face with a smirk. "Besides, if you got up that easy I'd feel a little offended. He's in the next room, right?"

You laugh but still nod, thanking him as he gets to the doorway. In quick, long steps Oliver gets to the next room, opening the door to find the soft green walls of the nursery. Pushed against the furthest wall is a large wooden crib, the clear source of the crying. Covering the space in a large stride, Oliver peers into the crib to find the squealing baby, hands brushing over his soft hair - despite the wailing, he was cute.

Strong arms lift your son with ease, and despite his strength, Oliver's hold is gentle and careful, dual colored eyes mesmerized by the small thing he is holding. When he cradles the little boy to his chest the crying ceases, but for only a moment, only long enough for the baby's eyes to land on Oliver and realize that's not his mother. When the crying resumes, it seems louder - almost like a protest of disappointment.

"Yeah, I'm sorry buddy, I'm not your mom," Oliver chuckles, walking back to the bedroom. "We getting there, I'm gonna get you to her."

When he gets back, Oliver finds you sat up against the headboard of the bed, covers bunched around your waist, but your chest exposed. Still bathed in the afterglow of your night together, you looked beautiful, but this was not the moment for him to say it. Instead, Oliver delivers the baby back to your arms, and as if by magic, the crying immediately stops.

You thank him, voice soft and a bit tired, just as you position your son in your arms, the boy quickly latching to a nipple. Oliver can't help but stay still for a moment, watching the scene as your attention diverts to the baby in your arms. You smile and he doesn't want to think about how he finds the scene so beautiful, or how he is struggling to convince himself he needs to leave.

Though, when you look back to him the spell is broken, and Oliver cuts the eye contact by trying to look for his shirt on the floor. He finds it and then his shoes, quickly getting dressed while trying to push away the strange sting in the back of his mind. When he's done he excuses himself with a smile and leaves. By this point, he has the way out memorized, same with the drive back to his apartment. Which was good, because that night, as his tense hands gripped the wheel tight, he couldn't stop his mind from wandering back to all the thoughts he'd been trying to ignore.

Shit, he was so fucked.

today's sponsors: @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife @qichun @loser-vxbez @tinnaagine

#oliver aiku x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #oliver aiku #aiku x reader

[midnight-glasses]

This headcanon clearly inspired by @/dialovers-lover-xoxo check out her post!

Technically this is a part two of something I've done before, this is one of the characters I love the most! So I hope you guys can have fun with it.

Some things that I imagine he might have:

🍵🍃— He has a charming smile, often accompanied by a playful glint in his eyes.

💚 🌿 — He often expresses himself through physical gestures, such as running his hands through his hair or tapping his fingers rhythmically when he is deep in thought.

🍵🍃— Laito's skin is pale, typical of a vampire, but with a slightly warmer undertone that contrasts his clothing.

💚 🌿 — His posture is confident and relaxed, with a tendency to lean casually against surfaces.

🍵🍃— Laito's shoulders are broad.

💚 🌿 — He keeps his nails short and well-groomed, a practical choice for his active lifestyle.

🍵🍃— Laito's lips are naturally pink and often curved into a smirk or playful grin.

💚 🌿 — He has a habit of running his fingers through his hair when deep in thought or planning mischief.

🍵🍃— Laito has a robust build, not overly muscular but with a sturdy frame, this is natural when you are a vampire, he never bothered to develop his physique however.

💚 🌿 — Laito's hands are large and capable, with long fingers that are nimble and skilled in various tasks.

🍵🍃 — His fingers are nimble and adept, capable of delicate tasks like playing musical instruments or handling objects with ease.

💚 🌿 — He has a distinctive laugh that is often accompanied by a bright smile.

🍵🍃— Whenever Laito smiles, dimples form on his cheeks.

💚 🌿 — His skin has a smooth texture, often maintaining a pale complexion typical of vampires but with a healthy glow that suggests vitality.

🍵🍃 — When he walks, Laito's gait is purposeful yet fluid. He moves with a natural grace just for draws attention.

💚 🌿 — Laito's voice is velvety and smooth.

🍵🍃 — Laito has a well-defined collarbone, as well as shoulder blades.

💚 🌿 — Laito doesn't have a lot of hair, whether facially or bodily, the only places that hair can be seen without much searching are on his eyebrows and hair, however when you look at him more closely it's possible see small ginger hairs that adorn his skin, it's like the skin of a peach.

🍵🍃 — When it comes to body hair, it can be said that he is the middle ground between the triplets, with Kanato and Ayato being two polar opposites in this aspect.

💚🌿 — I like to imagine Laito having freckles too, considering he is a redhead. In my opinion, both Ayato and Laito could share these characteristics. There is no canon basis to support this, but I like to think so.

Or

🍵🍃 — Laito definitely has some moles scattered across his body besides the one he has on his cheek; I suppose he has some on his shoulder and forearm, and another set of them on his abdomen.

💚🌿 — His hair is soft and very well taken care of, this is probably one of the parts he is most proud of.

🍵🍃— Long legs.

💚🌿 — Wide torso.

🍵🍃 — Laito's skin is surprisingly sensitive to touch, reacting subtly to different textures and temperatures.

💚🌿 — His eyes are lighter in tone than Ayato's eyes; however, unlike his brother, Laito's eyes are brighter, although hazier. It is often difficult to read his true emotions through his eyes.

🍵🍃 — Still commenting on his eyes, Laito has sharp eyes like those of a feline; their curvature is pointed, as if he had natural eyeliner.

💚🌿 — Laito has slightly calloused fingers due to many years of practicing with the piano; however, they are very smooth, almost imperceptible in a quick interaction with him.

🍵🍃 — He has a slender neck.

💚🌿 — Laito's hands are particularly expressive, often gesturing or playing with objects.

🍵🍃 — He usually smells of sweet-smelling cologne and soap, which varies depending on the type he chose that day.

I could write more; however, at present, I do not have much time for that. I also intend to explore if I can do the same for his other siblings. Thank you for reading!

All my written content is original, however, I do not claim ownership of the characters depicted. ©2024-Present.

#diabolik lovers #midnightglasses #diahell #dialovers #diabolik lovers headcanons #midnightglasses headcanons #dialovers laito #laito sakamaki #sakamaki laito #diabolik lovers headcanon #Laito Sakamaki Headcanons

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Red Breath

Summary: Azula has been hiding that she has tuberculosis. Her secret comes out during the last Agni Kai.

For @the-mariachi-96 based on this post.

There is red on her pillow.

There is red on the cloth in her pocket. 

She tries not to dwell too much upon it. 

Today is her special day.

The mirror has no mercy. 

No sympathy nor compassion. 

It is a cold thing, and—had it a voice—it would speak clinically. Forward. Direct. Brutal.

In its own way it does have a voice and it speaks through images it reveals and the inner monologue that it inspires from the looker. Sometimes it is pleasant, mostly it is mundane and indifferent. These days it has been cruel; it shows Azula that she has been deteriorating steadily and rapidly. 

That something that was already well out of her control has spiraled much further beyond it. Either her skin has grown sallow or the palace’s warm lighting is making her complexion look more sickly than it truly is. For certain she has grown thinner, her robes had always fit rather large on her frame for comfort’s sake. Now they are too baggy for comfort. Sleep and illness have put bags under her eyes too.

She touches her fingers to her cheek, the texture of her skin is not quite right, but that could be because she hasn’t been drinking enough. Her cheekbones are more prominent beneath her fingers.

She wants to blame Mai and TyLee.

If they hadn’t chosen Zuzu…

If they hadn’t left…

Since finding out, they have always kept her fed and comfortable. 

She grits her teeth. It is her own fault for letting them care for her instead of learning to care for herself by herself. 

Even if they were there to feed her, she probably wouldn’t want to eat anyhow. The sickness is getting worse and it is stealing her appetite, her comfort, her strength, her motivation, and, most pressingly, her future. 

Her well kept secret is finally unraveling and she is glad that father isn’t around to witness it, that nobody is around to see it, she had made certain of that. And she starts to wonder…

She is always wondering, speculating, or overthinking about something or another. 

This time she ponders exactly what is to blame for her fraying mind, the fog within it, and the things that it shows her—the things that aren’t truly there. 

Can tuberculosis cause paranoia and hallucinations or was it the loss of Mai and TyLee that has put her mind of kilter. If the former is to be blamed then it might be that she is reaching her last days. And, by the spirits, it seems to have come about so quickly. She knows that she doesn’t want to be alone when she takes her last red, labored breath. 

Her chest hurts.

Her lungs burn. 

She is afraid to die.

But she is afraid to breathe.

.oOo.

To some degree, she wonders what the purpose is. Of the crown. Of this new title. Of anything really. Azula will be dead soon and she knows it. So why then? Why bother letting them fix the crown into her hair? A sense of duty, she decides, and to make father proud right to the very end. Her nation depends on her, especially now, with the comet barreling towards the world. Her firebending is charged, she can feel it in her core, but she is no longer certain that she could withstand its power. 

The Fire Sages hover the crown just above their head, they are just about to decree that she is the new firelord. She closes her eyes and when she opens them, Zuko is in front of her with the waterbender at his side and the bison behind him. 

Surely she is delirious with fever. 

But no, the Fire Sages are exchanging looks. 

Her already burning chest, flares with hatred. Resentment for the person who had taken her mother from her and then her friends. For the person who now wants to steal her crown—the very last thing that she has.

She is in no condition for an Agni Kai, but she will fight all the same.

She will fight to keep what is hers, fight for her nation, and fight for her honor. She will fight for her vengeance. She will fight for her friends—surely Mai and TyLee will understand then, how much they mean to her. 

She rises to her feet, her head is already spinning. 

Dear Zuzu has already accepted her challenge. Her fate, whatever it may be, is sealed. 

She closes her eyes and hopes that her coughing will subside just long enough for her to win this fight. 

She takes a labored breath and she takes a stance. She feels that breath, scratchy and searing. Like sandpaper dragging all the way down her throat. She holds herself rigid and ready in spite of it. 

Zuko makes the first strike, a powerful blast of orange flames that heat her face from well across the arena. She returns with a burst of her own blue and equally as scorching, if not more so. It isn’t a fair match; not in numbers, not with her state of mind, not with her state of health. She supposes that she has made her share of sneaky, honorably questionable maneuvers. A war is a war and it will not stop because she is feeling ill. 

And so she throws blast after blast until the chills start to wrack her body. Even then, she pushes onwards. Even then she wields her fire as she always had. But the more the smoke fills her lungs, the more agitated they become. 

She can feel the fit coming on.

“What, no lightning today? Afraid I’ll redirect it?” 

It is bait and she should know better. 

But it is an excuse; an excuse to end this match once and for all, before tuberculosis ends it for her. 

Perhaps this will be the last thing that she does. She wonders if Mai and TyLee will miss her. Or if they will be relieved to know that she is gone. The lightning crackles on her fingers and the fever crackles in her body. 

Both will be released, only one will claim its target. 

She sends the lightning off as disease rushes forward. Her lightning falls short, it splits the ground with a rumbling crack. It launches Zuko violently towards the other end of their arena. And it launches her body into a violent fit. Her coughs come on with such merciless furocity that it leaves her stomach aching and her body hunched forward. 

She can feel the blood behind her teeth. If she parts her lips, it will drip onto the ground. Perhaps not a dramatic spatter, but two or three little droplets. 

She glances at her right hand.

It is bloodied. 

She glances at the battleground. 

At two alarmed faces. 

And then she sees nothing at all.

.oOo.

Azula’s vision is fuzzy. There are figures around her bedside and she can’t tell who is who. She thinks that they are probably doctors. The same ones who have been attending her since she’d come home. The ones that Lo and Li had found for her.

Her throat hurts and her head is woozy.

Sounds hurt.

Bright light hurts as it streams through the window. A glorious light spills over her face but she has not earned glory. 

The comet has passed and so to has her coughing fit. But the tingling in her throat remains as a souvenir of her suffering and her lungs don’t seem that keen on expanding fully. For it, when her lips part, her breath comes out in a labored hiss. 

“Aang should be here soon, he can help with that.” It takes Azula a moment to recognize that voice as the waterbender’s. But of course. She might not be here if not for waterbending. And for the life of her, Azula can’t understand why Katara would help her. Especially when Zuko had also been harmed. Perhaps he hadn’t taken a direct hit but the lightning had fallen at his feet and the shockwaves had thrown him a respectable distance. 

Katara likes him better anyhow.

Everyone does. 

“Mai and TyLee?” Azula mannages. 

“They’ll be here soon.”

But she can’t imagine that they will want to talk to her. They are probably coming for Zuzu, to check on and comfort him. 

“I’m cold.” She mentions. But she is also terribly hot, her face has a thin film of sweat. 

“You have a fever.” Katara replies. “But I think that you know that. How long?”

“How long, what?”

“How long have you known?” And then she elaborates. “That you were sick.”

“None of your…” she falters into a half cough. “Of…” another half cough. “your…”  And then there is the first full cough. Finally another fit comes on in full. Silent tears leak down her cheeks, more so the product of physical strain than any emotion.

Katara hands her a glass of water. “Drink that. After you swallow I’m going to bend that water and try to soothe the inside of your throat. It will probably feel weird, but it won’t hurt…”

It wouldn’t matter if it did, her throat is already sore.

“...And you won’t drown.”

Fleetingly it crosses her mind, that maybe she would be perfectly content drowning. She drinks the glass and Katara takes hold of the water. The sensation is terribly unpleasant, like nothing she has ever felt. Like nothing she ever wants to feel again. But then her burning throat cools and the sharpest of pangs taper off. 

Katara lowers her hands. “No more talking, okay? You’ll agitate your throat.” Katara says. “Just rest.” 

Azula nods. 

“Zuko is in the bed next to you. Both of his feet are bandaged and he’s got a concussion so he won’t be walking for a little while.” Katara informs. “Mai and TyLee and my friends are on their way. You can go to sleep, I’ll wake you up when they get here.”

But she won’t be able to sleep. Her head is too preoccupied with troubled thoughts; knowing that she had failed her people and her father, knowing that she has lost everything including Mai and TyLee, knowing that her carefully guarded secret is now in the hands of the enemy. The enemy that is fixing her blankets for her and putting a cool rag on her forehead. 

“Why?”  Her voice is so hoarse. Hoarse and whispery, nothing like the elegant silk it had been. 

“Because, you don’t deserve to die.” 

It is a simple and impersonal answer. But it is just as well.

“I think that things can be different.” Katara adds. “Now that the war is over.”

Different.

She doesn’t particularly like ‘different’.

She thinks that she might be afraid of ‘different’. 

Even if ‘different’ could be better for her. 

“Get some rest, okay. I’m going to keep waterbending and I’ll have Sokka reach out to this herbalist that we met in Taku; she’s very knowledgeable and she has this troublemaking cat.”

“Miyuki?” Azula grumbles. 

“You know Miyuki?”

Azula nods.

“Does that have anything to do with how Miyuki got in trouble with the Fire Nation?” 

Another nod.

“That’s a story that you’re going to have to tell.”

“You said no talking.” Azula dodges. 

“Later on.” Katara replies. “Right now, just get some rest. We’ll figure out how to treat your tuberculosis.” 

Azula nods once more. Perhaps she will get to live a full lifetime afterall. She just isn’t certain of what sort of life it will be. 

#avatar the last airbender #azula #katara #zuko #fanfiction #one shot

[snarky-art]

Chimera and Cassandra!

In my rewrite, they’re both Lunarian , aka Deliosians (the actual name that most of them use to refer to themselves as)

Cassandra does indeed use Valtor’s influence to get them a higher ranking, in fact, the highest ranking one could get under Solarian rule.

Chimera is just a pawn in that, and although isn’t enthusiastic, is non the less shunned into obedience by their mother.

Info on their general storyline, content within my lore, and why I drew them Cassandra with a different skin tone and Chimera with a different hair texture below!

Cassandra ends up tanning to pass as more Solarian since they have an ethnic ancestry from those who stayed underground on Lunaria, which in my thing, results in them tending to have a paler complexion as well as increasing the likelihood for a paler hair color. Blond is considered a Solarian trait by those from Solaria, although the lightness of it would be considered Lunarian. Cassandra can just pass it off as being the result of some “impure Ancestry” though and that she’s mainly Solarian because,, the color of her hair, you see? Blond! And her iris color (also Lunarian, but she can claim the paleness is because of the small Lunarian part “tainting” it and resulting in phenotypic traits being less intense in hue) and that combined with her tan, she can prove she is Mostly Solarian,, right????

Spoiler alert: she’s totally 100% Lunarian.

In my thing, Stella will realize fairly quickly that Chimera is not someone who has much choice in this. On top of not being a willful participant, they hate pretty much everything about it. They straighten their hair because it’s easier than curling it to the 3c and various 4 texture curls that Solarian’s can have, but they still hate it. They refuse to tan or add glimmers or contacts to change their eyes. They don’t want to. Why should they?

Cassandra allows it, VERY begrudgingly. She can blame it all on Chimera’s father anyway (he had an ancestry from those who lived above ground hilariously enough, meaning his skin tone and hair color were darker overall, and he could’ve passed better as Solarian if he wanted to ((he didn’t for obvious reasons. Fuck Solarian Imperial rule.)) but shhhh he’s not in the political sphere there’s no reason for that information to pop up ever).

Even with all of this though, when all of this stuff is said and done, Stella can’t even really blame Cassandra.

For Cassandra, yes it is an attempt at a power grab, but, Stella also kind of Gets It.

“Well,, I can’t really blame her for this at the end of it all. I understand why she would want that power. How else would she get it? She’s Lunarian.”

She’s still pissed at her for doing what she could to get rid of her obviously and she thinks she’s a shitty mom, but the actual goal of trying to get on the throne? Stella goes, “well I think it’s fair to see why she would want more power. It’s not like they have much compared to me. To Solarians.”

And people are pissed she’s saying this, it was cute she was trying to play Dress Up and shit (how they referred to her connecting to her heritage from her mother, wearing actual Deliosian garb and paying respect to the Moons equally as much as the Suns). But she’s taking this seriously? Cassandra was just another power hungry Lunarian trying to get into court in a higher position. They’ve always wanted more than they have, say the Solarians in power.

Stella’s response? It’s because what they have isn’t equal.

The rest of the panel she’s speaking to during the court session: well,, I mean, that’s not the same as wanting equality-

Stella: why not? Because you’ve refused to give them independence. This wouldn’t be an issue if you did that. Or are you actually going to concede and give them equal representation?

The panel:…..

Stella ends it by pointing out she’s just as much Lunarian as she is Solarian. The panel hates it.

Stella and Chimera end up as sisters when everything is done, with Stella and Chimera referring to each other as such, and Chimera becomes one of the loudest people and a head representative for the Delios Independence Movement.

Cassandra is still in court sessions as a political figure, but is given shit for being such an ass to Stella and being seen as a shitty mom, forcing her daughter into this and using her mainly for a political pawn. It’s too soon to let her continue to hold influence though after the Valtor incident the others present decide, and she’s kicked out for a while. She’s still shit talked for the reasons previously mentioned, and for being a Lunarian that dared to want power, according to the Solarian Imperialists in court.

Stella invites her back after a time. Stella appreciates her thoughts on how to make things better for those of Delios because she knows Cassandra will never hold back on her real thoughts and feelings. Chimera and Cassandra don’t really talk after everything for a while, but eventually things do get better, and they do resume regular correspondence and communication. They’ll never be super close, but they know they can rely on each other when it counts.

#winx club #winx #stella winx club #stella winx #winx stella #chimera winx #winx chimera #winx club chimera #winx club Cassandra #winx Cassandra #Cassandra winx #lore #world building #winx club redesign #winx redesign #winx reboot #winx club reboot #winx redo #winx club redo #winx club rewrite #winx rewrite #winx club remake #winx remake #illustration #digital art #procreate #artisrs on tumblr

[belit0]

HELLO <D HOW ARE YOU?? i wanted to ask you how the uchihas would react if the reader wanted to be taking care of their skin etc.?? (basically, giving him a skincare routine)

take care of yourself!! <3

new HC revealed: Indra has sun freckles🤗💫

take care of yourself too, darling!!

Indra

- To be completely honest, Indra doesn't need it. He's the type of person who washes his face with a brick and has flawless skin just the same. The suggestion of a skincare routine is strange, he doesn't understand it, but he assumes it's about all those products (Y/N) puts on every night and morning. He lends himself to it just to see if it makes a difference or if it's all bullshit, and is strangely fascinated by the glow of his skin once all the products are absorbed. His brown freckles glow like never before.

Madara

- What is that? Madara doesn't have good skin, often dealing with excessive oiliness and some closed comedones that provide a stubborn texture to his face, conditions that gave him self-consciousness all his adolescence and that he thought would be with him all his life, eventually getting used to it. When (Y/N) explains his task and proposes to treat his skin condition, he accepts with secret excitement for his texture to finally be fixed, and after months of diligent cleansing and repairing the skin barrier, he is a new man.

Izuna

- Love... LOVE! Izuna has been in the skincare game for years, with lots of practice and countless products tested by his own face. Of course, he ruined his face a million times with different creams, learned the hard way to use retinoids, and the terrible importance of sunscreen, having already identified which products cause an acne outbreak and which do not. He is the one who ends up giving (Y/N) indications and putting together a routine for her, improving some aspects of it, and providing her with a necessary update for better results.

Obito

- The idea excites him, but with the false hope that some of these products will help him with his scars. Obito doesn't have the slightest idea about skincare, and after receiving those iconic marks on his face, no one explained to him how he should treat them. (Y/N), in the face of his illusion, does her best to find something with the effect he's hoping for, but no product is magic and no cream erases what life decides to do. His skin improves, considerably, and he is so excited to see certain changes he even starts to inquire about procedures to treat his face.

Shisui

- Whatever. Another Uchiha who has perfect skin without making any effort, and hell he has a wonderful complexion. His own mother tried to introduce him to the world of personal care as a child, and seeing (Y/N) trying to do the same makes him nostalgic and tender. He will allow her to take care of his skin just to make her happy, but sees no results when she's done with the routine, and almost always forgets to implement it himself, not allowing the products to do anything for him.

Itachi

- Indeed, wonderful. Itachi went through so much at such a young age that he looks like a forty-year-old man at 25, a terrible insult to a face as beautiful as his. The expression marks under his eyes don't bother him but he doesn't like them either, and if something can be done about it he would love it. The signs of stress are terribly noticeable, not grossly explicit but striking, dull skin and rudely black circles under his eyes. (Y/N) takes it upon her shoulders to improve her complexion and bring his battered skin back to life, and once they find a suitable routine, Itachi won't budge from his products even with a judge's order.

#uchiha itachi x reader #itachi uchiha x reader #itachi x reader #uchiha obito x reader #obito uchiha x reader #obito x reader #shisui uchiha x reader #uchiha shisui x reader #shisui x reader #uchiha madara x reader #madara uchiha x reader #madara x reader #uchiha izuna x reader #izuna uchiha x reader #izuna x reader #indra otsutsuki x reader #otsutsuki indra #indra x reader #naruto #naruto imagines #naruto shippuden #uchiha izuna #izuna #izuna uchiha #madara uchiha #uchiha madara #madara #indra otsutsuki #indra #uchiha shisui

[winternet-s]

𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃 𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁 - g.satoru

summary : in which [name] is the cupid of her after helping tons of students with their relationships or crushes, satoru included - but who could fool cupid in terms of romance ?

genre : fluff - comedy.

wc : 1.97k

notes :fem!reader - not proofread - inspired by that cupid girlie from monster high - more comedic than fluff but still have cute moments.

───── Waking up at last for the day that awaited her with open arms, [name] sat staring into space for another two minutes before getting up and heading for the bathroom. There was little energy in her body, but what little energy she did have was for the advice she would be giving today. 

The [skin color] was known for her advice when it came to romance - all of which had worked for those who asked. This led her to create a club at her high school to help anyone in need. Fixing her hair and primping, the teenager immediately put on her uniform before setting off for the station, headset on, walking with confidence. 

Her ears didn't capture the sounds of her surroundings, her body certainly did. A hand came to rest on his shoulder, and with a start [name] turned around, mouth and eyes wide open. Shoko, a short-haired brunette who certainly looked tired, but was nonetheless pretty, had a mocking smile on her face.  “There’s a reason why I’m wearing my headphones.” grumbled the [hair texture] while glaring down at the brunette.

“Sure, but I’m your best friend.” Shoko replied, reaching into her pockets and pulling out a cigarette and lighter as her friend looked on in disgust. [name] always thought of bringing her a pack of chewing gum because of her unbearable breath when she smoked. 

“I will never understand how you can put that thing in your mouth so early in the morning and not this,” exclaimed the exasperated teenager as she pulled out a packet of cake from her handbag and shared it with her friend, who gladly accepted. "Maybe your breath will be warmer!" she laughed under her friend's pout. Who teasingly nudged her.

“Smoke on the side, spill me the drama.” Shoko asked curiously, so the two of them walked in step with each other in the direction of the station, [name] telling her about the anonymous people who had sent her messages.

"Are you serious? What's going on in guys' heads?" 

“And it’s not finished, now her sister is pregnant.”

A little later, they finally arrived at their high school, continuing their journey together as they chatted. A little further on, two young men approached them - Getou Suguru. The black-haired man had long hair that had taken the time to be tied up in a low bun, with a lock on the right side of his face that kissed his face perfectly. His uncluttered face showed off his intimidating cat-like eyes, then his unstuck ears decorated with earrings. He was walking alongside his best friend Satoru. 

A very tall young man with a slim build, his pale complexion and the white hair crowning his head made his eyes stand out. They were such an intense blue that they sometimes terrified the young girl, but she eventually got used to them. 

“So, how do you plan to ask her out?” The black-haired man asked his friend while waving to the girls. 

Once reunited, the group began chatting together as they walked to their first class, which happened to be gym sports education. Walking alongside Satoru on her right, the teenager could feel his gaze on her form causing her to turn. Her eyes now connected with his, she frowned in confusion. 

"Do you need anything?" she began softly under the young man's doubtful gaze - "Because your eyes are a bit scary- I mean intimidating!" She corrected herself when she received a nudge from Shoko.

Rubbing her ribs, she couldn't see the half-amused and half-saddened look on his face. The [skin color] was known for her great help in terms of romance, but also for her great frankness. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind, and this scene didn't escape Suguru's notice, who snickered while shaking his head.

"You find my eyes frightening [name]?! I think me, Gojo Satoru has finally unlocked an insecurity. ." And lo and behold, his boyish personality reappeared in the blink of an eye.

"To be honest, yes doesn't stop them from being beautiful. Just scary."

"I really like the end of your sentence minus the first part!" 

"Seen like that, [name] is right." Shoko declared, much to the delight of her tall friend, who wrapped her arm around the brunette's arm. Arm in arm. The foursome headed for the gymnasium with a beautiful atmosphere surrounding them. 

End of class, [name] emerged without her friend, who happened to be in a different class to her, and walked slowly, mirror in hand, rearranging her make-up. Eyes riveted on her mirror, a figure she knew only too well stood behind her. 

“Oh ! Sato-” 

Cut off in his sentence by the latter's dramatic act of grabbing him by the shoulders. "I need your Cupid skills," he declared.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Murmur from the students, all grouped in a duo ready to get a good mark for this practical physics assignment - [name] and Satoru together. Concentrating both on their work and on the white-haired girl's heart problems, the young woman wasn't quite sure where she stood.

"Pass me that, and so a spontaneous girl with confidence eh..." 

Instrument in hand, she picked up the white powder and placed it on a watch glass, concentrating on the scale - her duo noting the number on their sheet of paper, eager to know what advice they would receive from her. 

"I see, well, you might as well start by getting to know her a little better than that. Ask her out on a few rather simple dates..." Dragging on her words, the young girl analyzed the sheet on which the calculations were made.

"If you're as attentive in class as you are with her it would be miraculous, look at that it's all wrong." Giving a sulky pout in an attempt to soften the threatening look his classmate was giving him, the youngster looked away with a puffed cheek. "Anyway, thanks for your advice [name]!"

He stood up suddenly, taking her in his hands and rubbing his cheek against the top of her head, but received a pinch in the ribs. "If there's one thing I hate, it's having my hair undone, write that down in your skull!" cried the [hair color] but in a low voice, amused the teenager could only chuckle. 

"Noted!"

Satoru waved to [name] as she left the classroom, and found Shoko waiting for him against a wall in the corridor, playing with her cigarette box. She rushed over to her friend and took her by the arm, telling her everything from A to Z. It had already been a while since Shoko and the head [hair texture] had noticed the attraction he had for her. 

“How do you plan to deal with him ? We’re talking about Gojo Satoru.”

“Well he’s not that annoying when he wants to actually, he was, well, a tiny bit helpful today with the assignment. Plus, does my hair look okay ?” 

Cupid asked in a panic while stroking the top of his head - his friend, showed him a thumbs up - "Top as usual, anything left to eat?" The brunette asked under [name]'s exasperated gaze.

"Here, I've got either chocolate muffins, paprika potato chips or chicken and raw vegetable wraps left."

"Muffins it is."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The next day arrived, and the teenager found herself in the middle of a discussion with a friend of hers, barely aware of the presence of the young man, who seemed to be nervous. Most of Satoru's evening was spent catching up with her brunette friend. The young man was not very good in the kitchen, but he did try to do a few things for her. 

"Right now she's got this weird obsession with hello kitty dim sum." He recalled the messages, took a deep breath before striding towards the head [hair texture]. Sensing a presence behind her, as well as the embarrassed expression their comrade wore, she guessed. 

"Gojo Satoru, to what do we owe your presence that put an end to our discussion?"She asked without curiosity, gesturing between herself and the girl. 

The atmosphere surrounding the two was highly comical in the eyes of the girl, who observed the scene with a small smile on her lips. She stood up, not forgetting to greet [name] and Satoru.

"You made her leave... . Her case was important too." 

Sighing as she crossed her arms, [name] glared at him as he sat down beside her. Being himself, the young man brought his head close to hers with a smile before exclaiming - full of joy - "Tadam!" - Blinking like an owl, she now faced him with a plate of Hello Kitty dim sum.

"I made them myself! And I bought us slices of strawberry tartlet!" 

". . . I've been wanting to eat them for a while," Satoru then passed her a pair of chopsticks which she accepted, first bite and she couldn't lie, "it's really good Satoru, surprisingly." 

"You're so mean [name]!" 

"Shut up and eat it before it gets cold." She took a piece from the dish and held it out in front of her mouth, taken aback Satoru stopped in his act and felt his face burn. His embarrassment showed, but [name] said nothing, admiring the smile on her face, his cheeks puffing out like a squirrel, as he ate with pleasure at being in her company.

"Wait, but that's an indirect kiss." He suddenly stopped chewing, looking at the girl with wide eyes.

"I mean, if you want something concrete between us, you shouldn't get excited about this kind of thing." The girl pinched his plump cheek. At her words, he looked at her even more astonished than he had been after the meal, he wanted to ask her out to the movies. Somehow he felt reassured, reassured to know it was mutual.

"I knew you'd fall under my spell." 

"If you keep looking at me with your eyes I'll end up leaving too." 

A moment of silence passed before he opened his mouth again - "How long have you known and how did you know it was you?" He swiveled his head to the side watching his crush eat his dessert - "I'm the high school cupid my dear, there are signs that don't deceive and then the dim sum proved my point. Only Shoko knew."

“I see, so um. . Are you free this Saturday? There's this movie out from Fibli Studio !” 

Nervousness set in, but that didn't stop the girl from accepting. A breath of relief escaped her mouth, then a laugh irritated her ears, which turned red, and Suguru and Shoko were present in their classroom, all smiles. The black-haired boy couldn't help teasing the white-haired.

"Who'd have thought you'd be nervous about this sort of thing."

"Coming from the guy who makes girls run and not after him."

"Look at those two," the brunette rolled her eyes at the interaction of the two best friends, who began to argue to the accustomed eyes of some of the students-" Otherwise you, frankly do you think you could get away with it?" She asked again to reassure herself that Satoru wasn't necessarily the best boyfriend material, but in [name]'s eyes he'd proved his worth.

"If he can keep me away from your smoking breath I'm sure." She immediately had her cheeks pinched by the brunette, energy. Her cheeks stretched the [skin color] tried to speak with the best of her ability - “I have gubs in my bug.” She added before being free from her friend’s friend thanks to Gojo.

“Two more points, Satoru, you can come by 4:45 pm tomorrow.” 

She said, rubbing her cheeks under the gloomy gaze of Shoko who held out her hand, she immediately handed him a chewing gum - "I note, see you Saturday!"-She waved her hand while leaving behind a happy teenager ready to tell his best friend about the joy he felt.

ᝰ.ᐟ winnie's note : oh hii everybody first of all thank you for reading this - it took me three days to finish it because of how busy i'm but i'm so glad it is finished ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ plus i loved the bond between shoko and reader so much hahahaha it was the funniest part (hopefully nobody was offended it was not my intention !) but yeah please like & re-blog it would help me plus i would love to read your comments too ! see ya ૮ • ﻌ - ა.

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo fanfic #jjk fanfic #anime fanfic #itadori yuuji #shoko ieiri #geto suguru #jjk art #anime x reader #fluff anime #comedy fanfiction #slow burn kind of #straightfroward!reader #jjk comic #comedy fluff #gojo satoru x reader

[katsigian]

ᴡ ɪ ᴘ ᴡ ᴇ ᴅ ɴ ᴇ ꜱ ᴅ ᴀ ʏ ─── ⁺

I'm actually posting this on a Wednesday, amazing. I was tagged by @ouroboros-hideout, thank you!

Nothing all that new, just updates to my prior wips ♡ and that very first update is I'm about 90% done Valen's hairstyle!! He got himself a wolfcut (it was cut by me I am not a good hair stylist this is taking longer than I'd expected it to but look at his floppy hair) I just think he's really pretty in it ☺️

There are still some things to fix, such as the way some strands are transparent at certain angles. The back of his head needs some more chunks added. But those are little things that aren't very difficult. The hardest parts of modeling in Blender are done.

Second thing is just basic texture modding and practicing different techniques so I can make 4K and nicely detailed skins for masc V's. I'm going to eventually release my own body complexion in the new year called the Hyperion Skin (Hyperion Body-Tech is a corp that exists in my cyberpunk worldbuilding and I'm publishing my mods under their name). Valen has been my test subject and I've been practicing on him.

My favourite things to mod ever. Skin texture, veins, body hair, and tattoos. It's sorta similar to digital art since I paint a lot of my diffuses and normals myself. These are part of Valen's custom body, so the public release will look different, but it'll still be high quality. Better nips, better navel, better hair, like Valen's here.

Besides that, I've just finished up my tattoo mod commissions (I make custom tattoos for peep's OCs) and now I can turn my focus to my own public release modding projects for the time being. I have about 4 tattoo projects for release in process, some masc v complexions, the Hyperion skin, plus a pack of eye mods coming out eventually in the new year. I am nicely busy rn and it's been good ♡

I'll tag some mutuals to show off their wips, but there's no pressure to share if you'd rather not! I'm not 100% sure who's currently working on projects, so feel free to ignore this if you'd like! If you'd rather not be tagged, lemme know, and there'll be no hard feelings ♡

@rindemption @noirapocalypto @spicyraeman @the-dark-urge @thedeadthree @nightbloodbix @aceghosts @kharonion @ruinbringer @peaches-n-screem @cyberpunkaddict @westealtoys @ronqueesha @mrdekarios @hazellblogs @ncytiri @swanfey @quickhacked @devilbrakers @arisatominakos @nightcxty @mercymaker @cetra @envergothash @cloudofbutterflies92 @yharnams @kirahlene @vanoefucks @hexdruid @strafethesesinners @calibvrn @timaeusterrored @vincentmatthews @duskfey @cyberholic77 @leota-nexus @girlstandstill @wilxfyre @alphanight-vp @minastirithe @gortash @vayneoc @nncc77 @hibernationsuit @florbelles @glitchinginthegarden @glitchblack @estevnys @cove-holdens

#i think i like these sorts of hobbies because they keep my mind so in the zone and i can actually focus on them for long periods of time #it's the stress #unfortunately #but it's been fun and i am having fun just sitting at my own little table making my little mods #oh damn i should've showed y'all Vesper because he looks drastically different than he used to ahdkdhs next time #wip wednesday #cyberpunk mods #cyberpunk 2077 mods #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk2077 #my wips #WIPs

[yoinkschief]

Me when I men

Dog Teeth AU Tom Character Reference Sheet

WARNING: Slight NSFW - Mild, Non-Explicit Nudity under the cut

My other husband I love him so much let me kiss you on the lips volatile ball of angst and anger

My poor boy was cursed with his father's hairline and sress he cannot carry,,, to be fair that last bit was his own doing

I sure hope he looks nautical enough,, I mean I want him to nautical INSPIRED, not a member of the marine court, y'know?

My lover said "very Garp of him" and I think that's that One Piece Marine DILF guy so that's a plus :)

I also wanted his outfit to be a direct contrast to Tord's - I mean red and blue are already contrasts on the color wheel but kinda so is green so I wanted a little more driving force: white against Tord's blacker color palette

While white is supposed to represent purity, I assure you, Tom is anything but

It's more a reflection of how the characters see themselves: Tord KNOWS he's a piece of shit and happily flaunts it because no one can do anything about, he holds it with pride even

But Tom doesn't believe he's being an ass, he thinks he's genuinely doing the right thing or at the very least the lesser of the two evils he was forced into, and than on it's own has some merit but this is just to say Tom isn't exactly the "savior" of the story despite what the white palette may suggest

It certainly is what he wants to portray to the public, however

Mmmmm mann

I'm apparently really into sharp contrasts or something cause I keep shading with very bright colors against very dark shadows,,,, it's really fun actually so whateva

Also that cape thing Tom wears ? Worst thing ever, it's like a texture issues but instead of the texture bothering him it's the uneven amount of weight, like he's painfully aware it's on his left shoulder and not his right and it irks him so badly but "it carries his rebellion's symbol so he has to wear it in public" or whatever

He's really only seen wearing it during important or public matters, when it counts

Otherwise that thing's in the bin

Back in his OG style but with the horrible hairline and salt in his hair

He got a day off

He snuck out of the lime light

"Ohh I drew him naked to show off his tattoos and to talk about them"

No I didn't

I'm a liar

I drew him naked cause I wanted to draw his tits so I did, simple

But I will talk about his tattoos some more :)

First of all: That scar on his left shoulder is from the house rubble, that cut we see on his arm at the end of The End pt. 2, yeah that's where that comes from

As for his tattoos,,

I know I've explained these somewhere but I'm explaining them again cause I dunno if I explained it someone's DMs or not lol

The Harpoon tattoos are pretty self explanatory, and I also just wanted to show off colored tattoos on darker skin complexions cause that's the stupidest argument I've ever heard and black/dark skinned people should be able to get colored tattoos

The rest are kind of important to Tom and the story line,,,ish?:

the Shark Teeth tattoo comes from the time he visited Hawaii to find out more about his father and his Father's side of the family and their customs, traditions, his heritage, etc. etc.

To make a long story short: there's a reason his father doesn't talk about his side of the family often, but it didn't ruin his experience while visiting some lesser hostile family members in Hawaii like his cousins, and he even got to surf with them - which was when they decided to convince him to get the Shark Teeth tattoo

On top of Tom just being really obsessed with sharks and having infinite knowledge on all things shark related, it's supposed to represent strength, guidance and protection which I think is very fitting for Tom

The "Wolf" tattoo kinda stands out because Tom's Irish, not Scottish or any sort of Norse. So why the Nordic rune?

Well :)

Back when Tom and Tord lived together, they weren't always at each other's throats

I think I mentioned this in my Strip Mafia AU reference sheet for Tord ignore how I forgot to flesh out Tom's,,, I have it I just haven't cleaned it up yet but I'm gonna rehash it here really quick:

Tord gave everyone in the house a tattoo he thought best represented them, including himself (which was the Ouroboros tattoo seen on his character sheet) and Tom's was the rune for "wolf" and I think there are very obvious reasons behind it

Tom stays around his friends a lot, he's got more bite than bark, very unfriendly to outsiders, the list goes on really

It's so odd seeing Tom in so much white if I'm being honest

I'm so used to him being in like angst blacks and greys and I don't think he's adjusting any better himself LOL

#love this big fella #man #eddworld #ew #fanart #art #digital art #reference sheet #character sheet #character reference #Dog Teeth #Dog Teeth AU #eddsworld au #ew au #ew Dog Teeth AU #Dog Teeth Tom #Dog Teeth Blue Leader #ew Tom #eddsworld Tom #ew blue leader #eddsworld Blue Leader #Tom #Blue Leader #jay draws #slight NFSW ?

[sweetsaffron7]

Sweet like mango

Namor x goddess!reader fluff

Summary: You had always remained loyal to your promise to stay ashore, despite a certain god’s best attempts to persuade you otherwise

1.6k words

Warnings: slightly suggestive at some points. Other than that pure fluff

Author’s note- The reader is a woman of color implied to be of a browner skin complexion. The place she rules is a made up country in the Caribbean Sea.

You never grew tired of this.

The long pathways of sand that stretched far around the coast of the island, tucked underneath the shade of many trees. The sleek texture of the leaves beneath your fingers as you foraged for any fruit that would be viable. The feeling of his gaze as you went about your tasks.

It was your job to look after the resources of your people, a people that dwelled on an island safe from the hands of the outside world. One much like the African nation of Wakanda, hidden to all outsiders; though that never stop him from coming. Everyday you’d stroll around the shores of your quaint island and everyday he’d make it a point to see you: It was from him that you even knew what Wakanda was. You weren’t the kind of goddess to meddle in the business of other nations, so a lot of your knowledge about the outside world was through what he told you. On his visits he’d bring stories of foreign lands along with more gifts than you could manage. Necklaces, gold, Talokan’s finest pearls littered your hut. Despite your best efforts, he insisted you accept his gifts and you never had the heart to turn them away. He liked to jest that one day he’d bring enough jewels to fill up your entire island, to let anyone who sailed by know just how much he cared for you.

“Must you always watch from the waters?” Your voice broke the air in what sounded like but a whisper. You stood just off the edge of the sand, waves flowing gently at your shores and making ripples as they returned to the ocean. He was there and you were sure of it. A gentle breeze made its way through the trees, taking pieces of your knit skirt with it. Comfortable silence settled between the two of you as you waited for him to reveal himself and it wasn’t long before he did. He heard you, he always did. His black hair stuck to his face as he rose from the waters, bronzed and covered in heavy jewelry. Before you was K'uk'ulkan in all his glory.

“Ma'lob Ja'atskab K'iin, in yakunaj” (Good morning, my love)

He knew you couldn’t understand what he was saying and yet he refused to stop speaking his language to you. Maybe the absence of understanding was apart of why he did it. Maybe it allowed him to be comfortable saying the things he wouldn’t dare slip off his tongue if he knew you’d understand.

“K'uk'ulkan”. His name fell from your mouth with ease, the way it had thousands of times before. You never tired of seeing your water god, not when he came to your shores looking the way he did. Namor sauntered slowly up to you with a small brown box cradled in between his fingers. Those green shorts left little to the imagination, not that you were complaining.

“How have you been” he asked genuinely, eyes finding yours as he slides his had gingerly around your waist. His fingers moved cautiously around the gems of your waist beads, testing how far you’d let him get as if he had never touched you before. It wasn’t until he was close enough that you could see the state he was in. Battered, bruised, littered in cuts.

He hadn’t visited you in a week which was unlike him. In the event that his duties as king would tear him from you for longer than he liked, he would always make sure you knew. Worry crept up your spine when he hadn’t paid you a visit in 3 days time and you waited desperately for any sort of sign. A smoke signal, a message in a bottle, anything, but nothing ever came. You suspected something dubious was going on with him. Your suspicion was correct.

“What happened to you”

You saw the way his eyebrows raised slightly, as if he didn’t expect you to ask.

“What would it matter if I told you, in yakunaj”

“You leave without a trace in the ocean and you expect me to not want answers? Do you think just because you’ve returned that I’m not owed an explanation?”

You had a point, he couldn’t deny.

“I had a run in with the Wakandans, their new queen is a formidable warrior. I have done things I don’t know if I’m proud of. Things I’d rather not tell in fear you would look at me differently”.

“Does war follow your actions K'uk'ulkan?” You had to know your chances of loosing him. The brown in his eyes soften as he gazed upon you, his hands gripping your waist with more force as if he’s scared you’ll blow away with the wind. The sun made the brown of your skin dance beneath his finger tips, a sight he wouldn’t trade for the world. To him, your beauty could not be matched by any woman, land or sea.

“Not anytime in the near future. Not with the Wakandans. Despite my wrongdoings I have secured an ally for Talokan”. His response seemed to calm you and he took notice of this. As much as you tried to deny it, you did have feelings for him.

This encouraged him to lean into the dip of your neck, inhaling your scent. Honey and mangos with a hint of cinnamon, a smell he would burn into every fiber of his brain had the heavens above allowed it. Opening the box he slowly removed its contents, a beautiful Amber necklace with a pendant surrounded by Talokanil pearls. You didn’t flinch as his wet hands turned you away from him, moving to clip the necklace on with ease. You saw the admiration in his eyes as he scanned down the valley of your breast to look at where the necklace rested. It was beautiful against your complexion and sat comfortably on the knit bra like top you wore. To colonizers your dress was primitive, to him, it was beauty in it’s purest form.

“I count every hour until I am able to see you again. Will you not return to Talokan with me to save me of the pain of having to live without you”.

Would you go with him? You truly didn’t know. Your duty was to your people, to your island, who were you to abandon them? The gods had given you life to serve the islanders and your power of growing plants on a whim served the people well. At a moments notice you could conjure up rows of fruit trees to feed the village. Despite this, you couldn’t help your mind when it wondered to thoughts about what it would be like being his queen. Adored by him and his people. He had walls covered in tapestry depicting you, what would it be like to wake up to them in his embrace every morning? The feeling of him kissing up the side of your neck pulled you out of your thoughts. As much as you’d love to spend every waking moment like this, you knew it wasn’t possible.

“We both know that cannot happen. I have a duty to my people and yours deserve a queen that is one of them”. The words left your mouth so quietly you had to second guess if you had actually said them. His response assured you that you did. That wasn’t the answer he wanted.

“What would lead you to think you are not one of us? You can breathe water like us, swim like us, eat like us. I’d never let the name Namor come from you, is that not testament enough to your place in my life?”

“I am neither your enemy nor your people, what am I to call you? Surely the better of the two names”

“In yakunaj would suffice”. A smile graced his face as he pulled away from your neck. Watching as small purple bruises burned into the brown of your neck.

“I will not call you a name if I don’t know what it means”

“And yet you call me K'uk'ulkan without a care in the world. Do you trust that it’s meaning is good? Or is it that you trust me, lòol (flower)”

In all honesty, you didn’t have an answer. He must have taken your silence as confirmation of your trust as he worked to push you up against the mango tree behind the two of you. He did it with more force than intended but you were quick to catch the mango as it fell, not without accidentally bruising it. It’s juices flowed onto your hands and covered you fingers with its sticky substance. Namor’s eyes darkened as he watched you attempt to clean the mango’s residue from your hands after placing it to the ground. He gently gripped your hand and brought it up to his mouth, eyes meeting yours. He began to slowly suck the juices from your skin in a way that set your body a blaze. Everything about the scene was seductive and you enjoyed it more than you felt you should have. You tried your best to mask the shock as he slowly dropped to his knees before you.

“Maybe I need to use a different approach to make you change your mind”

#namor x reader #namor x poc!reader #namor x y/n #namor x reader smut #fluff

[dawns-beauty]

Slowly but surely working on releasing a Beta version of Lunar Lattice Tweaks, have a Ohmes-Raht bard

Previous posts: 1, 2

Finished up with all the eyes and the glowing variants: I ended up using the meshes from the wonderful Straight Eyes. This allows for the iris to glow while the scalara uses environmental mapping, which gives them more depth (thanks to littlemissf for the suggestion)

Also did all the earrings for the variant ears: pictures is the Smaller Stick-Out ears

Going to make 1) a mesh replacer for users of XMPSSE that includes the newest skeletons and 2) Addon that changes the custom skeleton path to use the vanilla Khajiit skeleton path. The mesh replacer is more for people who use custom Khajiit skeleton replacers that don't work well with Ohmes-Raht (like digitigrade ones) because it's really just the Khajiit skeleton and doesn't need its own path otherwise.

I will be releasing some templates for stuff like eye textures, heterochromia, and Hi-Poly Heads Converter, plus some more eye colors and my skin textures (imperfect as they are.)

Additionally, I'd like to make some Complexions for them, mainly wrinkles.

#skyrim #skyrim mods #khajiit #tes #my tamriel now

[fuzzyhenry]

Revenge

A peculiar form of irony brought me to him, the truck driver who had been the cause of my unexpected demise.

The man was stocky, broad-shouldered, a silhouette of strength curled up in the tin can of his battered truck cab. His hands, large and calloused, gripped the steering wheel, white-knuckled from the shock. His eyes, the color of a stormy sky, darted around in panic, encapsulating his fear and guilt. He was dressed in a plaid shirt that had seen better days, stretched over his substantial belly. His trucker cap cast a shadow on his rough, unshaven face, making him seem even more formidable.

I approached him, drawn by the frenzied energy that surrounded him. I sensed his panic, the raw fear that hung around him like a shroud. I moved closer, the cold of my incorporeal form merging with the palpable heat of his living body. The shock hit him like a bolt of lightning. His hands slipped from the wheel as he gasped for breath, his eyes rolled back in his head momentarily, the sharp flicker of resistance shining through before disappearing.

He slumped back into the seat, a puppet whose strings had been abruptly cut. His arms fell lifelessly to his sides and his muscular legs sprawled out before him awkwardly. His chest heaved with each labored breath as I seeped into him, feeling the powerful rhythm of his heart beneath me, a rhythm I would soon control.

I wrapped myself around his consciousness and started to push. His body shuddered in a last, desperate attempt to resist my intrusion, but it was in vain. Soon, the tremors subsided, his mind fell into a deep slumber, and I took over. I flexed his fingers, feeling the tough skin on his - or rather, my- hands. I ran them across my unshaven face, feeling my stubble prickling against my palms.

Now in control, I leaned back into my seat and stretched out. I took a moment to examine my new form. I admired my muscular arms, the ruddy complexion of my skin under the harsh white lights of the cab, the rough texture of the work-worn clothes. The light illuminated my robust figure, the angularity of my face, and the stubble across my cheeks. The panic was gone, replaced by my calm curiosity.

The truck driver who'd inadvertently ended my life was now asleep and I was awake, in charge, and ready to start my next chapter.

#male possession #male body swap