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fatesundress · 1 year

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⭑ observations ii. tom riddle x reader

part i here.

summary. two weeks after your last encounter with tom shatters all of your previous observations, tensions are high, and eventually, something's gotta give. (it's tom. he’s giving head)

tags. smut (so. so much. minors BE GONE TO WHENCE YOU CAME!), fem anatomy + reader is referred to as a woman by someone, fingering, cunnilingus, piv, again implied tall!tom or short!reader (take it however you prefer), jealous tom does not understand friendship but then again neither does reader apparently, a little wine is had, the room of requirement is used shamelessly as a plot device, did i mention smut, i’ve lost my mind etc etc.

note. this is a part two, so go ahead and read the first part and come back if you'd like :) obligatory preface: it's safe to assume any smut i write within hogwarts is a university au — these people are all 18+ tyvm. also woahh was not expecting the love on my last post so thank you! i'm still trying to figure this whole acc out so support, questions, (requests? never done those before) anything is appreciated ♡

word count. 6.3k

The next two weeks are agony. You don’t, in fact, stop meeting with Godefrey to study, because you do, in fact, still need a good mark in Ancient Runes and for all his faults he can reach the tallest shelves and he’s a faster writer than you. Also, Tom Riddle is fantastic with his hands but this does not make him God.

You find pureblood politics a bit archaic. You find muggle courting a bit stifling. This leaves very little space for what took place between you and Tom in the middle of a corridor two weeks ago (you can’t stop wincing at how insane that sounds) and very little patience for his utterly original and not-at-all entitled request that you halt your studies with Godefrey. Godefrey doesn’t stick his hands up your skirts while the two of you are studying, doesn’t silence your gasps with a shush and a finger to your mouth, doesn’t — wouldn’t (you’re so imaginative when you want to be) — tell you to keep reading as his thumb draws circles between your legs, tell you to repeat the words that get caught in your throat, tell you how much he likes it when your eyes go dumb and glassy and all you can say is his name. So, really, Tom should have nothing to worry about.

“I swear,” Selwyn says, picking at a plate you don’t think she’s actually eaten anything off with how distracted she is, “he’s looked over here at least three times.”

You don’t dare glance at who you know she’s talking about. “You’re obsessed.”

Pot. Kettle. Whatever.

“Are you sure you didn’t do something to upset him in Potions? Didn’t botch something that might mar his perfect record?”

You flick her forehead and she scowls. “I’m not an idiot, Selwyn. I handle myself just as well in Potions as he does — he wouldn’t —” Wouldn’t have complimented your rapport if that weren’t true, wouldn’t have said you communicate efficiently, make a good pair, probably wouldn’t have — fingered you in the hallway? — yes, that too. Slipped your mind. So easy to forget.

You take a long exhale, and smile impassively at her. “I didn’t botch anything, trust me.”

She finally takes a bite of food. “Maybe I did something…”

And then she’s lost in thought again, eating now, at least, and you shake your head softly as you watch what are likely a million different theories flitting through her head.

“Morning,” Tom says to you when you enter Potions after breakfast, a delicate smile tugging at his lips.

You have, of course, trained for this.

It’s your fifth — sixth? — time sharing a table with him since that night and it is somehow easier by nature and harder by anticipation (of what, you have no idea) every time. The first was terrible. Unsalvageable and without a silver lining. It had taken almost an hour that morning to charm the violent hues of red and purple spanning the column of your throat, and ultimately, the marks were so persistent you’d forgone the glamours and decided to just wear a turtleneck. You’d been fortunate it was completely inconspicuous to wear such a thing in December, but that was about all there’d been to be grateful for. You hadn’t been able to look at Tom all class and his hand had brushed yours once to take a phial from you and you’d flinched so sharply it would have shattered on the floor if he hadn’t caught it. And he’d smiled, like he’s smiling now, a soft, “Careful,” that honestly, for a short moment, made you want him dead.

Now you could speak just fine, look him in the eyes in practised intervals, and almost, impressively, make articulate conversation with him again. Make stupid comments about Slughorn and Lestrange and bear the weight of his grin knowing it was there for you.

His, he’d called you. A very funny thing.

“Morning,” you answer on a smiling sigh, sleepy but jovial all the same.

You deserve applause for this.

“Tired?”

“Mhm — Essays for Ancient Runes are due Friday and it’s been keeping us up all night.”

His eyes flash with something you’ve yet to ascertain. Your research has been put temporarily on hold, scattered and splintered by the revelation that your first observation was, admittedly, a little bit off, and you have no means of figuring out a look like that when you can’t even begin to figure out anything else.

“Has it?” he asks, a tinge less friendly.

“Well,” you say, grinding the lacewing flies, “that’s commonplace, isn’t it? You take all sorts of advanced classes, I’m sure you understand the work it takes.”

“...Hm.”

That’s it. That’s all you get from him.

And if Selwyn’s concern over you botching your work in Potions wasn’t already, obviously dispelled, the glee on Slughorn’s face as he assesses your and Tom’s cauldron should do it.

“Brilliant! Just brilliant!” He claps a hand over Tom’s back, regarding you both with pride so thick it clouds his eyes, like he's drifted into a revery of the future (you and Tom, you expect, are his most prized graduates, making history under his name, proving his immense wisdom) before he appears to return to Earth. “Ten points between the two of you, hm? Very, very good — though, of course, no surprises there!”

He chuckles to himself as he evaluates the other students, and you catch a horrified wheeze of Godefrey’s name (bless his heart) as one of the cauldrons in the back begins to sputter and froth.

You look to Tom with some droll little comment at making it to the end of term with top marks, but his gaze is burning into Godefrey’s table in such a way you wouldn’t be surprised if it was what was causing his cauldron to boil.

Well. Perhaps not, then.

You and Godefrey hand in your essay that Friday with more relief than apprehension — you both decide it’s quite good — and you laugh loudly and breathlessly as he picks you up and thanks you a thousand times, spinning you until you’re dizzy. You refrain from making any promises to attend his Quidditch games, but he vows to let you have the snitch he catches.

And Slughorn, you come to find, was not exaggerating his elation at your skill. After trotting after you on your walk back from Ancient Runes to invite you to the last Slug Club dinner of the year, your spirits are high with the blissful satisfaction of a job well done and a night to celebrate it with.

You can breathe, finally, when it’s the last week of school before Christmas break and Selwyn’s zipping the back of a last-minute dress you purchased in Hogsmeade.

“Gorgeous,” Selwyn says with a grin. “Wish this school would have a bloody ball so I could really dress you up.”

“Buy a doll, Selwyn; you can dress them however you like.”

“You are such a —”

You burst into laugher, swatting her wand away as she pokes your side with it.

“Just — go then, before I hex you.”

“All right, all right!” you concede, arms raised in surrender. “Don’t ruin all your hard work now.”

“Oh,” she calls on your way out the door. You turn and there’s a mischievous look in her eyes as she tucks her wand back in her pocket. “And do tell me before I leave tomorrow if Riddle stares at you all night.”

You groan as if it’s a truly abominable thing to imagine. Riddle, staring with those dark eyes of his? You, the centre of his attention? Ghastly. You daresay you’d never recover from the horror of it.

“Don’t leave before I tell you how remarkably uneventful a night it was,” you say with a sidelong glare, and leave before she can edge in the final word.

You have no idea what a Slug Club supper typically consists of, but you imagine for Christmas he’s gone a little further with his festivities. His office is glittering in hues of green and red and fleecy, snow-dappled gold. The lights overheard (some similar charm to the one in the Great Hall but a tad less complex, you think) drip and then vanish into the air like squeezed berries, and the berries — served with pastries and ice cream — taste like they must be enchanted with something.

Selwyn was right that the standard dress isn’t quite formal enough for a ball, but it’s… formal. The boys are in clean-cut dress robes and the girls are in fine gowns of different lengths. By the overwhelming number of them you recall being archetypes of Slytherin pureblood fanaticism, it makes sense how expensive they all look. You yourself brush up nicely, if not a bit more frugally, but you haven’t been to an event like this at the school yet, and that’s exciting on its own.

It’s another degree of training (is there going to be a marathon? Are you at war?), a step up from your preparations before Potions every other day, to be ready when Tom Riddle enters the room a respectable five minutes late with a gleam about him more captivating than any of the lights.

“Ah, Tom!” Slughorn exclaims, and ushers him into a seat you remark before Tom is even in it is discomfitingly near to yours. “We’re all here at last… Supper, then? Hope you aren’t too full already, I’ve got the House Elves running laps!”

You’re spared Tom’s closeness by a Ravenclaw couple sat in the chairs between you, their hands clasped under the table while they sip wine from their goblets, and you only realise the length of your observation when Tom glances at you from the spot over, and you startle yourself into reaching for your own goblet and pretending to enjoy Slughorn’s bitter wine.

You eat. You listen to cluttered, unending tales of Slughorn’s time at school and how he earned his post. You drink, and then you regret not drinking before eating because there’s only a very light, very nice buzz that warms you when you finish your cup, and the Ravenclaw couple is — oh, wait, it isn’t just them — they’re standing up to dance as a gramophone sparks to life and a low, dulcet instrumental begins to play. There are now two notably empty seats separating you from Tom.

What had you said this night would be? Blissful satisfaction?

You couldn’t blame Selwyn for suggesting you’d blundered Potions — you didn’t feel exceptionally smart right now.

“I didn’t know you would be here tonight,” Tom says, pulling the chair beside you.

Where is the bottle of wine? No. Nevermind. You behave regrettably enough sober.

You manage a simple, “And yet.”

“...And yet.” His lips quirk before he takes a drink from his goblet.

You lament for a second that you’ve only actually kissed those lips once. They spent a great deal longer on your neck.

“Will you be here over break?” he asks, and it isn’t an unreasonable thing to ask, you suppose.

“I think so. Why?”

“I’d like to know whether to expect you or not.”

Expect you… No, yes — revert to observation two: unusual is not an apt enough word for him.

It takes you a moment to conjure a response befitting polite dinner conversation. That is, after all, still what this is.

“I suppose you can. I’ll be busy, of course.”

Well, you didn’t say you conjured something good. It’s a big fat lie. Placating, vague, empty. And you suspect Tom knows that.

“Pity.”

Yes, he knows. He’s all quiet amusement again.

You stare off, satisfied to be left alone —

"And what is it that'll be taking so much of your time?"

“Well, I'm —” And now you have to build the lie — “I’ve told Godefrey I’ll attend to his Quidditch practise. Since the pitch isn’t in use.”

God, it’s so stupid it’s almost impressive — you don’t even know if Godefrey will be here over break, and you could have chosen any number of excuses that would pique Tom’s interest less than it’s apparently consistently piqued by the mention of your study partner.

There’s that strange, indecipherable look again. Riddle is a perfect surname for him, you decide then, and you almost laugh at yourself for it, but that would probably not go over well should he ask what’s so funny.

“Have you, now? That’s very kind of you.”

“It’s hardly charity.”

“Hm, it’s kind of you to think so.”

You huff, tipping your goblet back to swallow the last meagre dregs of your wine.

“You look lovely.”

It’s just a little bit — just a tiny, straggling little bit of elderflower that captures your throat — and you cough into your goblet. “Thank — thank you.”

And, well, he looks lovely too. Obviously. Sickeningly so. You know little about his personal life but you’re positive he’s at least a half-blood, if not muggle-born, and it makes you wonder the influence of his renownedly plain black suit in a crowd of neat, long robes.

He manages with little effort to look better than all of them at their best.

His eyes drift over you appreciatively, quick enough not to be rude but — enough. (Enough that you daresay you might never recover from the horror of it.) You adjust under his gaze even when it’s situated on your face, far too heavy a thing for you to carry. “Does Godefrey call you lovely?”

What?

You blink at him, your mouth is probably open and you probably look stupid but he’s so… irritating. Yes, of course Godefrey calls you lovely. Godefrey tells you you’re the smartest woman he’s ever met (after his mother), and he drowns you with sherbet lemons at no cost, and he writes at the speed of light to match the quickness with which you recite your textbook, and none of it means anything. Tom is just —

“Unbelievable…”

He quirks a brow. “What was that?”

“I said you’re unbelievable, Riddle. Is it impossible for you to comprehend that I might have friends? That Godefrey is my friend?”

“Well, memory serves me right that you seemed a bit confused on the conventions of friendship last you mentioned it. Do forgive my uncertainty.”

He — that was —

“Well, that’s because we are not friends.”

“No.” He leans in. “We are not.”

You push your chair from the table with all the grace you can manage for such an abrupt thing: a tight, impersonal smile on your face as you walk away and approach Slughorn, only realising when you get there that your empty goblet is clutched in your hand like you’re trying to strangle it.

Whatever he sees on your face, he isn’t drunk enough not to frown at. “Ah, our newest gem — hardly seen you all night! Not leaving already, are we?”

You glance at the clock. It isn’t as though you’re being impolite by abandoning his party in the middle of the event. It’s quite late, the servers are stuck to the walls with little to do, and most of the room has divided into waltzing pairs.

“I’m taking my friend to the train station tomorrow, sir. Unfortunately I need to be up quite early.”

Yes, yes, it’s all so tragic. You’re depressed to go.

“Such a shame,” Slughorn frets, wobbling a tad and balancing himself on the wall. “You’ll be all right getting back? Not at all dizzy, are you?” His laugh is cleaved by a loud hiccough, and then he laughs even more. “My, well, I myself will need to be carried!”

“...I’ll be fine, sir. Thank you.”

“Oh, no trouble at all — there’s — hm… ah, Tom!”

No, no — is it bad you almost reach over and slap your palm over your professor’s mouth? Is it at all impressive that you don’t? You should look on the bright side in moments like these. You should admire your restraint.

But of course, Slughorn’s eyes don’t fall upon Tom for nothing. He's halfway across the room already, and Slughorn must have spotted him approaching to achieve this brilliant solution. “Tom can escort you back, no?”

Tom (unforgivably) is beside you now, a very mean, very pretty smile on his face.

“Not too much to ask, I should think? You know the castle best. Head Boy — sometimes I still can’t believe it!”

You look up at Tom and your jaw is clenched where you’ve since put down your goblet. There is too much tension in you to know what to do with, and he looks positively thrilled.

“It’s hardly charity, sir.” He holds out his arm.

You wonder what spell would catch him most off-guard if you were to blast him in the face right now.

Slughorn claps his hands together. “Ha! Yes, well… perfect, then! Off now, the two of you, off now. Do have a good — ” He hiccoughs again — “rest!”

You don’t even bother the diplomacy of smiling at Slughorn as your arm loops through Tom’s and you’re exiting the party.

Neither of you say a word on the journey, and that’s very well.

If you could just get back to bed without speaking to him you may still consider it a good night. You may be able to push his strangeness and his entitlement and the annoying way his hair falls to another day, when he pesters you about Godefrey’s nonexistent Quidditch practise, which — come to think of it — you do think he told you he'd be headed home for the holidays. You really fumbled that one.

And then Tom’s thumb is brushing the bare skin of your arm and your walk stutters a bit. But he doesn’t mention it, and so neither do you.

And then he’s drawing down your elbow to your forearm so softly it almost feels like he isn’t touching you at all. He doesn’t mention it. Neither do you.

And then your arm, without really meaning for it to, is slipping from his and his hand is holding yours instead, feather-light as his fingers clasp yours and your breath is not the same as it was when you left.

He doesn’t mention it. He just keeps going.

His fingers work back up your arm and you shiver as they drag across your shoulder, gaze searing your neck as the soft digits find their way to your jaw, and you get the sense he’s remembering just how much he liked the taste of it, and you’re… you’re allowing it all again. You’re leaning in, you’re seeking him out, you want him flush against you and even that might not be satisfactory.

You are, in the end, a half-decent observer and a terrible liar.

You’re grabbing his hand with a small amount of direction and a great deal of meaning. You suppose it's because, historically, you’ve proven to have trouble with words in moments like these, and you don’t really know where you’re taking him but god, you know where you want him. Somewhere soft, this time, thick enough that you can fist your hands around it and melt. Somewhere he can hover over you, maybe hold you down a little, just until — maybe, miraculously — you might make him break a little too. Clamber over his lap. Make him yours.

“Tom,” you mouth, some question in the way your eyebrows knit.

The moment you say his name — the instant — he’s pulling you in, crushing his mouth against yours. And, ah, right, that’s what his lips feel like. You’d almost forgotten.

This kiss is not chaste, hardly tender. It resists in that it asks you to push, to plead, to take this for yourself to prove how badly you want it, and he smiles into it when you do. And then, sated by your efforts, he lets you have him. You’re gripping the collar of his suit in your hands as his wander appreciatively over the back of your dress, pulling you into him as the kiss deepens. He’s savouring you like you’re something religious that’s been offered to him, and there’s the taste of wine on his tongue and you’re still here, aware enough that the symbolism isn’t lost on you.

“I've been thinking," he says between kisses, “about the way you felt when I touched you. I've been thinking about how long it might take before you need it again."

You gasp at the sensation, and god, god, you've been wondering too, haven't you?

You’re pulling him impossibly closer and something hard is pressing into your hip and you clutch tighter onto his shirt as you moan into his mouth. You need it off, you think, and — has your dress been clinging to you like this all night? You need that off too. You need skin on skin. You careen him backwards without aim, your mind a muddled mess of all the many things your body is screaming it needs, like this is fucking imperative; to give it up would be catastrophic.

You suppose, based on what you’ve read, that that’s how the Room of Requirement works, but it’s still funny to think it would apply to this.

It hurts to remove yourself from him to watch in dumb awe as the door forms in the stone (to see the dark, languid shape of his eyes bearing down on you, the wet, stained pink of his lips), and Tom seems to recover from the revelation much faster than you.

His mouth is on yours once more, a hungry kiss; his free hand at your waist, guiding you through the door and shutting it carelessly behind him.

He’s like fire against you, radiating as he presses down on you, his hand tangled in your hair and his hips flush against yours. You shiver as his mouth starts to move down (a cheap trick — he hasn’t forgotten how much you liked it the last time) from your jaw to your throat, as his lips trail down your chest and you're shivering into the warmth of him.

You’ve heard it said before, in some romantic sense, that it’s sometimes hard to tell where you end and someone else begins.

This is not like that.

You've never been more aware of anything than the point where you and him meet.

You’re tugging at him blindly again, trusting in the nature of the Room like this isn't the first time you've been in it, and then you're stumbling down onto a bed you're quite sure wasn't there a moment ago (people say magic is a neutral force but evidently this is not the fucking case), fingers carding through Tom's hair as his body pins you into the mattress.

His mouth is molten hot as you squirm and pant beneath him, your breath coming faster than it ever has. Everything feels sharper and deeper and more intense under his touch, every sensation heightened until it's almost impossible to tell pleasure from pain, his tongue from his teeth.

How did it take you this long to do this again? To need him like this?

And his — you should really have the mind to see the mistake in all of this but perhaps that's for later — his fingers are pulling your sleeves down, propping your back to arch as he reaches under you to unzip your dress, apparently too impatient to sit you up and take it off properly so he just bunches it around your waist instead. There’s a moment where he stops to look at you, your chest exposed to him in the dim sconce-light, and then his mouth returns to circle your breast and you're biting down on a pillow to hold back the whimpering gasp that seeks to escape you. He hums around your flesh, and then he’s at your sternum, kissing a stripe to your belly button before pushing past the dress he's left ringed around your abdomen.

You shimmy under the weight of him to prop your head up — to see past the mass of silk that obscures his face from you as moves lower and lower, hands spanning your hips to keep you still.

His face hovers above your thighs, and he doesn’t move.

“Did you enjoy my fingers?" he asks.

At that you freeze, thighs pressing together to bury the hand that's rising between them.

Tom smiles. “Hm, you did."

And then he spreads your legs apart, one hand pushing your underwear aside and regarding you with delicate, shameless appetite — something that might even be adoration: like this is all he ever wanted you to want.

“Do you think you'd enjoy my mouth, too?"

Words are gone. There's nothing left in you.

His head moves happily between your knees, holding them apart, pressing kisses to the base of your thighs. Your hands flail from the sheets, desperate to grip something else and you hold back a sound that feels like irritation and need at the same time. You need him closer, higher than this. He knows. You can feel his smile biting into your skin.

And then you manage a nod though you're not even sure he's looking at your face anymore (and what a picture to imagine he is) and you worry momentarily it won’t be enough for him — that he’ll ask you to be nice and say it out loud for him — but he hums with something merciful, and — his chin dips. You catch the smallest glimpse of his tongue before it’s on you, wet and slow and unrelenting and you say his name, but it’s a mewl; you choke on it. It sounds like a cry.

Pitiful, needy, undone. Just how he wants you.

You think all efforts to remain even remotely composed are thrown to the wind as soon as his tongue is lapping at you, fast and then slow, everything you want and not even remotely close. He sinks all his weight down as if he can predict the moment you'll writhe before you do — and you do. And with his grip he tells you to endure it. You only need him to say it with his hands and his mouth but he breathes back, licking his lips and he actually says it. “Be good.”

That makes your breath hitch and your cheeks swell impossibly hotter, and reality is a small glint in your peripheral where everything else is burning red. “Y-you’re—”

His mouth returns to you, tongue catching your clit in a drawn-out, agonising motion, and you gasp and lurch forward to inch through the sensation, craving more, more, more. Reason is lost on you, a throbbing familiarity forcing you to grind your teeth down on the pillow to stop yourself from telling him to — you don’t even know. Finish you. Abandon all reluctance. Just let you come as hard as you know he wants you to.

But he pauses, observant as he starts to work his fingers against you. Watching how your slick coats them like it’s the most enthralling sight he’s ever witnessed. Slowly, ever so slowly, he starts to push one inside of you, hearing your breath catch above him and the moan that comes tumbling out of your throat, pillow be damned.

You do your best to breathe through it, and you know he knows how to make you unfold like this, so the meticulous lightness of his ministrations tells you he’s trying to keep it from you now. You’re almost embarrassed about the fact that you’re dripping onto his hand regardless; his lips puffy, his gaze unnervingly, dizzyingly carving you in two.

“Just,” you rasp, clutching desperately at his wrist. “Tom, please.”

Your begging must be music to his ears. (It’s a rare, unplanned fifth observation: that you think he’ll never get tired of hearing you say his name like that.)

He adds a finger. It’s encircling you, first, and no amount of restraint can stop the harsh gasp that leaves you, but then it’s his tongue and two fingers and he’s pushing into you how you wanted, and he makes a pleased sound against you, gripping you tighter with his free hand, still not allowing you movement and fuck, are you trying. What you're feeling now — the need, the want, everything — is more than rational thought. Your mind goes blank, and all that matters is this, him, right here and now; nothing else exists, not even for a second. You moan, a low, throaty noise that's a little too loud, a little too intense; you can't recall if anything has ever come from you quite like it and Tom devours you at the sound.

More, you agree; it's almost an obsession in you now; more, more, please, anything and everything.

It’s the precision of his touch — not some bored, hurried transgression — that brings your hands helplessly to his hair.

“Tom,” you whine, holding him tight, and the purr of his mouth finding you again is something destructive.

As soon as you feel another swell of something deep down, your mouth is dropping open.

His tongue is sliding through you, fingers curling, and then your clit is in his mouth, and he’s watching you between your thighs as your eyes clench shut, and you’re coming.

Your voice breaks somewhere in the catastrophe of it. Your body spasms, electric down to every atom, and he pins you down through it. He doesn’t grant you the reprieve of escaping the frenzied, glorious torture of it. His mouth still lingers. His tongue moves thankful and unrelenting.

He takes all of you, and you think this is destruction — creation — both. How terrifyingly similar they suddenly feel.

His lips are swollen and slick when he finally detaches them from you and you want to kiss him, but he’s leaning back to admire his work. You swallow, unable to blame him for it because you look down at yourself and — this is something else. You’re dripping down his chin. You're shaking. Your legs are still clenching around his torso. They’re holding him so tight you can’t imagine it doesn’t hurt.

But he just rolls off of you. Adjusts his trousers and your abdomen flutters and you think, don’t.

You don’t even realise you’re reaching for him until your hand is around his wrist and you’re still fucking sighing through the come-down, panting into the hot air.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, fingers damp on your chin as he holds you. You make a note that that’s the second time he’s done that. That you thought it was strangely intimate the first time and nothing’s changed other than how much more you like it.

And it doesn’t really feel like you can help it but crawl with gooey, trembling legs onto his lap. Doesn’t feel like you can help it when you lean in and capture his lips with yours, moan unabashedly into his mouth at the stiffness that presses against your core when you do, steal his tongue and the taste of you on it.

When he pulls away he’s looking at you like he doesn’t think you can actually do this. Like you’d just crumble the moment you tried.

A low, determined protest rises in your throat and you’re kissing him again. You’re unbuttoning his dress shirt, you’re trembling to reach for his trousers.

When you can finally shrug his shirt off, press yourself against him, feel that skin on skin you wanted so badly, you find it somehow even more suffocating than its absence. You’re left wanting a more you aren’t able to even conceptualise, but you’re grinding involuntarily against him and his teeth are scraping your neck and he's hissing at the sensation, and — yes, there’s more.

Your breath is staggered when your hips stutter into a roll and you — fuck. You’re tugging desperately to remove his belt and he smiles against your throat as he takes your hands and guides them to him. You can feel his bulge against your thigh and you’re spreading your legs to usher him where you want, clawing at his chest without even meaning to.

Tom’s taking off his belt, and he’s pulling down his trousers just enough to bare himself to you, and maybe he’s right that you can’t manage it yourself but he stops his assistance like the intrigue of finding out is too good to resist. There's something both intimate and imperious, in a way, about the way he's looking at you now; it's a kind of focus and intensity and withheld hunger just for you; and you're more than happy to give yourself over to it, to let his hands and his eyes and his mouth claim you for his own. To claim him for yours, at last.

You do. You struggle for it. He’s very patient.

But then it’s there — more — as you finally sink down on him and bite his shoulder and he shudders a low, pained exhale, his hands clutching your waist.

There’s a silent, suspended moment where neither of you move. The room feels entirely still.

Your lips quiver over his pulse, and your stomach flips at the intensity of it, the undeniable rate of his desire beneath you. You smile against him now, like he always does to you, conscious enough to mumble into his neck, “Mine.”

Tom stutters inside you, fingers gripping you impossible tighter as you dare to think he even gasps. You dare to think he likes it.

And then one of his hands grabs your jaw and his kiss is searing. He thrusts upward and you cry into his mouth, searching to match his pace in a way that you appreciate, for once, he seems unlearned in.

It’s all a bit messy, a bit new, palms in fists, in skin, in hair, digging for every part they haven’t already taken from. The sound in the back of Tom’s throat is divine, the feeling of him inside you as he slips his hand back between your legs — like he needs everything, like he knows you do too — it’s ineffable. It coils somewhere deep, touches something you didn’t know existed. Your hips are rotating, thighs still soft and slack from coming apart on his tongue, but you’re determined. It feels like finding even ground. It feels like something you deserve: to make him feel how you did.

Your head rolls back, eyes pinching shut in bliss, but Tom is there at your jaw again, forcing your blurry gaze back to him.

His hips are inching even further, the intensity of his pace as he adjusts to you making you dizzy. You think, realistically, there’s sound coming out of you, but you aren’t entirely sure when it’s so close to him, when your mouth is between his fingers and your ears are ringing and he’s looking at you like you’re made for him.

“Mine.” And it isn’t a dismissal of your own claim but a confirmation that one will not be without the other. His voice is raw and breathy and something about the way he says it makes you contract inadvertently around him, hands swatting his chest like they don’t know what else to do. There’s just too much.

You recognize you’re trying to say something. Some plea, a moan, his name (is there anything else left?), but you’re just babbling into his mouth and he holds you there. He doesn’t kiss you. It’s your failing words against his lips. He swallows whatever syllables try to shape them.

It’s there again when you need it most; the heavy, swirling feeling inside you as he snaps his hips, his fingers returning to your waist with punishing firmness. His breathing accelerates, low in his throat, and you push harder against him. Your vision is gone again, head held in his hands to keep from rolling back so that, you suspect, he can watch defeat split you down the middle again — not over your shoulder, not with his head between your legs — with his eyes on yours, with every broken moan you let out so close to his face he can feel the breath of each one.

You’re grappling desperately at skin that doesn’t feel like enough, even though he’s rocking inside you, and you see the insanity of it, you see that it isn’t logical. Too much and not enough at once — you’re smart enough to know that doesn’t work, but it just is.

“Please,” you manage in a voice you don’t recognize. “Please, Tom, pleasepleaseplease —”

Had you said before it was foolish to call him forgiving? You take it back. He’s very eager to oblige you.

He finds some place inside of you and you don’t know quite what it is that he changes but it's new, uncharted, and you break there. You dissolve. You’re liquid in his hands as you sob, stuttering around him, trembling like you didn’t know was possible, and you swear — you swear you’re going to take him there with you. It isn’t that you could stop yourself if you tried but your body is gripping around him, fingers carving halved spheres into his skin, and you’re pushing down on him through the ecstasy — you’re forcing your eyes open so he can see you break, watch them flutter back all soft and pretty.

And you're sated by your ruin when it ruins him too.

The sound he makes is ragged. Undone. He can only bury it halfway with a kiss you think is actually more of a bite, twitching inside you as he fucks you through it.

You’re both lost in each other for a moment that feels detached from time, feeling his hips stutter to a halt, feeling your body soften. And he’s pulling out of you like it hurts, mouth falling open as he does. You wince at the loss, the sweet soreness between your legs, and you’re held only by the weight of him. You think — and you actually sway like the mere idea is too strong — that if it weren’t for his hands, you’d fall flat off the bed.

But he sort of lifts you off him, lays you down and watches you for a long time as if to decide something important before he's laying down beside you. You watch him too. His fingers brush your hair out of your face, and when there’s not a single curl left clinging to the sweat on your skin, he continues anyway. You let him trace your lips, your jaw, your nose, and somehow, a bit terrifyingly, your final observation: nothing about it feels unusual at all.

You did say he was yours.

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle smut #tom riddle x y/n #tom marvolo riddle #voldemort #voldemort x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle oneshot #NO LONGER!#but it is only a two-parter sorry. this is it #harry potter fanfiction #wizarding world

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garoujo · 1 year

Text

✩ ˛˚ . NAGI SEISHIRO ; — sometimes nagi’s want for you keeps him up at night.

warnings: f!reader, all characters written 22+, just v sleepy needy vibes! note: i swear this was like my first or second nagi post i ever wrote but i posted on private for some reason (?) so i’m reposting! idk why i’ve just let it rot for a bit ^_^

it's 4am and he's got practice in two hours, nagi realises, but the last thing he wants to do is sleep right now when he's pressing himself into you.

his forearms sink into the pillows to either side of your head as his own rests in the crook of your neck, he can feel the push of your tits against his chest and his abdomen twitches against your own everytime he rolls and grinds into you. sinking his cock even deeper into your plush walls as he feels you jolt underneath him.

"you're—ah! you're gonna be sleepy, sei." you gasp as your nails scratch underneath the neckline of nagi's shirt, and he thinks you sound pretty when your voice is still thick with sleep, eyes resting closed as your features break with the pleasure he digs out of you.

"eh, i guess.. but need you more than sleep right now, pretty thing." he couldn't help myself, not when you feel so warm when you're pressed against him - thigh thrown over his hips as you hug yourself closer.

nagi was normally a heavy sleeper, even more so when he's comfy and he always was when he had you next to him. but that just happened to be his downfall today, when the warm press of your figure roused him with the heavy weight in his cock.

he can feel the weight of his arousal consume the fatigue that he knows will kick his ass at training in a few hours, his eyes still heavy with sleep as he nuzzles into you. but your body feels like silk against his and suddenly for someone so lazy, his stamina feels limitless when you feel this fucking good.

your toes curl with the next particularly deep kiss of his cock, making your voice break with your next exhale of his name before his pace stutters on his next thrust. "ffuck—sound so pretty, can gimme more, angel.” nagi groans, low and breathy as his lips trace along the crook of your shoulder - leaving suckled, wet kisses against the skin with every particularly tight squeeze of your walls around him.

even when you both barely have a grip on clarity, he still feels so fucking good with every heavy, wet grind of his hips into yours — the blunt head grazing just right along the sweet spots where he knows you need him most.

you can barely breathe with how deep it feels like nagi reaches, caging you against the mattress as his pelvis rubs along your swollen clit everytime he sinks into you. you're both so sensitive - both still caught in a dreamy mindset that only draws you closer to your end, faster.

he draws himself back when he feels a sharp little vibration on the bedside table, and the sound brings his drowsy, lidded eye movement to the mocking 4:30AM staring right back at him before his eyes are back on you. there's a pout on your lips as you rub at your face and you whimper, sleepy but content before your eyes flutter closed again when he speaks. "s-sorry, jus’ take it so well, pretty thing. stay up w' me a lil longer — don't wanna stop yet"

nagi shudders when you grab at him, squeezing at the broad muscle of his shoulders before you're hugging him closer — hooking your thighs around his hips to ease him into a slow, rocking pace.

“‘ts fine, feels so good, sei. mmmm, don't want you to stop either.” your words are like honey as they drip through him, making him whimper when he feels your lips tease the shell of his ear and pull another throb from his heavy cock as his pace turns to slow, languid strokes.

"fuck— y're g'nna make me cum. come on, can give you more.. jus' gotta be patient with me. can nap w’ you later, angel.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#blue lock x you #blue lock smut #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk smut #bllk x you #nagi x reader #nagi smut #nagi x you #nagi seishiro x you #nagi seishiro smut #nagi seishiro x reader

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bteezxyewriter12 · 7 months

Text

Enough is Enough

Pairing- Namjoon x Named Reader

Word count- 4.6k

Includes- Namjoon is jealous, unrequited love, public sex, cock riding, pussy eating, cum eating, missionary, multiple orgasms, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxxmine @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny

Gif Credit- @Jung-Koook

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Namjoon Masterlist

J POV

I look up at the stage watching my best friend rap his part in BTS' new song

Namjoon asked me to come to their comeback but this time I wanted to be in the crowd for their performance

I'm always backstage and very rarely I get to experience the whole concert performance vibe every ARMY says is amazing

He argued with me but I put my foot down and he finally relented as long as I had a bodyguard with me and stayed in the front where he could watch me

As if he could do anything if anything did go down

I know he's worried about my safety but it's fine

No one except the staff knows me

In the crowd I'm just another ARMY

I've never been in any photos with Namjoon, nor any of the members, that have been released, so I'm good

I sing along with the song, jumping up and down, yelling his name like a fan girl

Because well I am

"Namjoon!", I scream

He glances at me yelling and rolls his eyes, a small smile forming on his face

Yeah he likes the attention

He'll never admit it but he likes it

If only he knew I'd give him all my attention anytime he wanted it

But I'm not going there again

One humiliation during high school was enough

He found out about my feelings, never said anything or talked to me about it then got a girlfriend a week later

If that doesn't scream friendzone then I don't know what will

Unrequited love sucks but at least he's still my best friend

The song draws to a close and they run off stage

But I know it's just for a wardrobe change

They have another song to perform

As I wait with the rest of the ARMYS, I send Namjoon a quick text

"You were great Joonie! Can't wait for the next song!"

I'm not expecting him to answer back because, hello he's changing and he has to get all the equipment back on really fast

So I'm surprised when my phone rings

It's just a smiley face with the cheeks pink ☺️ but still, he answered

I didn't even know he had his phone close by

I figured he'd read the text after the second performance when we're all back in the viewing room and I'd make fun of him

Like normal

Well, whatever

It's not a big deal

After a few minutes, BTS comes back on stage and gets into their positions for the next song

One of my favorites

Run BTS

Namjoon is dressed all in black, his black hair falling in his face and my heart beats faster

God, he's so hot

'Stop', I scold myself, 'Just pay attention to the song'

Shoving all unwanted through about Namjoon away, I focus on the guys as the music starts

Jungkook starts it and all of us in the crowd sing along with a majority of the girls around me just screaming for him

Each one of these girls would kill me if they knew he's my dorky friend

I gotta admit he looks so cool on stage

They all do and it's hilarious how much of a bunch of total dorks they all are in real life

Jungkook comes back to the center to sing the chorus and just for fun I scream, "Jungkook!" along with the girls, jumping and waving at him as if I don't know him

Being in the crowd is fun

"Jungkook!", I yell again

Namjoon's head immediately turns to me as I scream Jungkook's name again, his jaw clenched and he actually looks pissed off

I have no clue what that's about

I yell his name too

The chorus ends and Yoongi is up next with Namjoon, Jimin and Jungkook moving to my side of the stage to wait for their cues to go back

"Yoongi!", I scream, waving my hands and jumping while he raps

Namjoon is up next

When I glance at him, he's standing with his arms crossed, a scowl on his face, his eyes on me

Ok what the hell?

Did I do something wrong?

Jungkook nudges him and his demeanor immediately changes as he gets into place for his part

He raps and I yell his name like I did for the other guys but he doesn't look over at me again

I push away the bad feeling I'm having and enjoy the rest of the song, singing along

Namjoon stands on a built part of the stage, doing his part as the song winds down

It ends with him in the middle, giving a sexy smoldering stare, the guys surrounding him

I clap and cheer with the crowd as they guys wave at us then one by one head backstage

"C'mon", the bodyguard says lowly and starts heading for a door near the back of the room

I slip out of the crowd, eager fans taking my space immediately as they wait for the next group to perform

As I follow the guard, I hope everything is ok with Namjoon

I don't know what I did to upset him but I don't want him to be mad

He should be happy after performing, feeling like he did a good job

Which he did and I'll remind him of that

The bodyguard opens the door to the viewing room and I step in

I immediately see Namjoon across the room, pacing back and forth

What is wrong with him?

"Hey Jo!", Jungkook smiles, waving at me

"Hi Kookie", I greet, smiling at him

Namjoon's head snaps up, his eyes on mine, a hard look on his face and I'm not gonna lie, I'm intimidated

He strides over to me and I'm worried about the confrontation that's about to happen

I steel myself as he gets closer

"Enough is enough", he growls

I'm expecting a shit storm so color me surprised when as soon as he gets to me, his hand moves to the back of my neck and he pulls me towards him, his lips crashing into mine

It takes me a second to register what's happening

'He's kissing you', my brain screams, 'Namjoon is kissing you'

Once that sinks in, I don't even question anything and immediately kiss him back

His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me against him, his tongue licking my lip

As soon as I open my mouth, his tongue is against mine, playing and we both let out the most embarrassing moans

"Yeah I'm out", Jungkook says

"I'm coming too", Jimin chimes in

I hear the guys footsteps as they pass us but I can't do anything but kiss Namjoon

He's completely taken over me

"Lock the door Hobi", Yoongi tell him

Lock the door?

Why?

I hear the door closed and I assume it's just me and Namjoon left here

As soon as the door closes, Namjoon's hands are on my thighs, lifting me up

I wrap my legs around him, my arms moving around his neck

He walks over to the couch, sitting down on it, his lips never leaving mine

I don't know what's got into him but I'm not questioning it

His hands move to my back, his fingers unzipping my dress

Holy shit

What the fuck is happening?

I, however, don't stop a damn thing he's doing and actually help him by moving my arms through the dress sleeves

He separates from my mouth for the second it takes to get the dress off me, then he's right back to kissing me

And I'm aware I'm just in my

underwear and bra

Well if I'm gonna be undressed, so is he

I push the jacket he's wearing back and down his arms, him moving to help me get it off him

I kiss him, my tongue in his mouth as I shove his black t-shirt up, touching his hard muscles of his abs and broad chest

He's so fucking big, it's such a turn on

I keep tugging his shirt but his arms stay locked around me, kissing me desperately, like he's never going to again

Which I really don't know if he is

"Joonie", I whine, pressing kisses to his lips, "Off"

He moves his arms through the sleeves, then pulls away only long enough for me to get the shirt over his head, then again, mouth right against mine

His hands move to my back, slowly sliding up, his fingers leaving fire racing across every piece of skin he touches

He gets to my bra, undoing it like a pro and tossing it away

Of course his hands immediately cup my boobs, squeezing softly, his thumbs running over my nipples and making me even wetter than I am already

He breaks away from my lips only to attach his mouth to my nipple, sucking harshly

"Namjoon", I moan, pleasure hitting me

My hips move on their own, rubbing against his....holy shit....his hard on

He's hard?

Because of me?

I can't believe it

He switches nipples, his free hand slipping right into my panties, fingers running along my pussy

"Fuck", he groans against my nipple, "So wet"

Of course I am

The man I always wanted is kissing me, groping me, sucking on my nipple and touching my cunt

Of course I'm soaked

And I need more, I realize

I need him

This...while it's great, isn't cutting it

Grabbing his hand, I pull it out of my underwear and he actually whines, making my head spin with shock

Getting it together, I quickly undo his belt, getting his pants open

He crashes his lips back against mine, kissing me as he lifts himself up pulling his pants and boxers down, then moves his legs to get his sneakers and the rest of his bottom clothes off

Then he pulls me down on him, right against his hard dick

Goddamn, he feels so fucking big

His hands move to my panties, a tearing sound filling the room

The next thing I know my panties are gone and I'm sitting on his hard dick

Oh my god, this is really happening

"Sit on my cock", he murmurs against my lips, "Please baby. I've been dying to feel you around me baby"

His words are making my brain stutter

He's been dying to feel me on him?

Since when?

"Please", he begs and fuck me that's so hot

Lifting myself up, I reach between us and hold his cock up

Jesus, it feels massive and fucking thick

His hands grip my hips as I sink down on him, getting his head in

He breaks the kiss, his head falling back against the couch, moaning so loudly

"More baby. More"

I slowly push down, his thick cock spreading me wide open

Seriously, I've never had a dick open my pussy this much

Just feeling him slip inside, rubbing everywhere is insane

"Fuck", I whisper, shivers running up my back, the pleasure intense, just from getting him in

"All of me baby. Please. Take me all"

Oh I definitely will

I push down more until I'm finally sitting against his legs, his cock so deep inside

I clench him hard, making him moan, feeling how he's perfectly against every spot inside me

His eyes open, his head lifting to look at me

"You feel so fucking good", he groans, his hands squeezing my hips hard, "Fuck, so tight. Choking my cock"

I nod, "So big Joonie. Feels really good"

"Good baby. Wanna be good for you"

"You are", I assure him

He smiles, then pulls me to him, kissing me

We kiss for a few minutes, just feeling each other, getting used to each other

I can't help but clench on him so tightly

It's like my pussy has a mind of it's own, throbbing around him

He's hard as a rock and I can feel every part of his cock inside me

"Ride me", he murmurs against my lips

Not a problem

Keeping my arms around his neck, my lips on his, I slide up his cock to his head

Shit, his dick is long and so fucking fat

Dropping down his shaft, I take him all in, his cock spreading my hole so wide, my pussy full of him

"Oh my fucking god", he groans, his hands gripping my hips hard

Slipping up and down his cock, I bounce on him fast and hard, absolutely loving the way his cock feels, how hard he is, how massive he is

And the pleasure is so fucking incredible, it's insane

"Yes baby girl", he moans, his eyes watching me ride him, "Fuck you're so fucking beautiful baby. Riding my cock so fucking well. You feel so good baby"

"Joonie", I whimper as I fuck him, lifting his face to mine and kissing him wildly

His kiss matches my fervor, his hands moving to my ass, squeezing and helping me jump up and down his dick

I'm so fucking wet, it's insane, his fat head hitting my spot again and again

I never felt this much pleasure before

Of course it's him

I knew it was him

"God you're so wet", he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my neck, "It's all for me?"

"Yeah Joonie", I confirm, getting closer with each move, my cunt squeezing the life from his cock

"Fuck, you're getting so tight. Feels so good opening you up", he groans, "Gonna cum for me?"

I nod, sliding my hands into his sweaty black hair, holding on

"Scream my name baby"

I bounce a few more times, his cock sending me right into my orgasm

Pure bliss explodes in body, my body shaking hard, screaming his name

"Namjoon! Namjoon!"

"Yes, fuck", he growls, moving me up and down his cock, fucking me through my orgasm, "Yell for me baby"

I do, his name just falling from my lips so naturally

"That's right baby. Scream my name. No one else's. Not Jungkook or Yoongi or anyone. You scream only my name", he growls, "Got it?"

"Yes", I nod, it registering through the pleasure that he was jealous when I yelled his members names

That's why he was so upset on stage

He was jealous

That is shocking in itself and hard to wrap my head around

As the pleasure fades, I sit fully down on his cock, grinding on him, breathing hard

God that was fucking amazing

The next thing I know, Namjoon turns, laying me on my back, pulling out and making me whine from the loss of him

He, however, spreads my legs wide open, his tongue licking me like crazy

"Oh god", I moan, intense bliss running all over

"Fuck, tastes so good", he groans, his tongue sliding on my slit, inbetween my pussy lips, "Such sweet cream baby. I knew you'd taste this good. I knew it"

Well I had no idea

But he seems to be enjoying it

I lift my head to watch him and fuck he looks so good in-between my legs

Really enjoying it

And so am I

The top of his tongue flicks my clit and I moan from the spike in pleasure

"More Joonie"

"Here baby?", he asks, running his tongue along my clit, starting with the flat of his tongue along to the tip

"Yes Joonie! There!", I cry, burying my hand in his hair

His arms wrap around my legs, keeping them open, lavishing my clit in licks

"Such a cute clit baby. So small. Throbbing so hard for me", he comments as he pleasures me, "Such a pretty pussy"

I moan from his words, again not believing it's fucking Namjoon saying this to me

His tongue slips down, pushing into my hole

I gasp, immediately clenching around his tongue as he slides in as much as he can

"Mmmm", he groans, pulling his tongue out, then shoving it back in, tongue fucking me fast

My hips move on their own from the pleasure, from the desire to cum, fucking his face

God, I want to cum on his face

I dreamed of seeing him in between my legs for so long, eating my pussy as wildly as he is right now, for so long

I'm finally getting it and I'm not tearing my eyes from him

His tongue pulls out, sliding up, his mouth latching around my clit

He sucks once, gently, stars blasting in my vision from how amazing it feels

He sucks again

And again

And with each suck, he goes faster, harder, playing and tugging, his tongue against my bump at the same time

My hips keep moving, my orgasm mounting, his name falling from my lips over and over

My back arches at his next suck, falling into an intense orgasm, my legs shaking around his head

"Namjoon! Oh, Namjoon! Baby!", I cry, pleasure washing over me, his mouth sucking me through it as I grind my pussy on his face

He moans too, as if he's the one orgasming, his tongue licking rapidly around my hole, swallowing my cum, his hands squeezing my thighs so hard

"Fucking good baby", he groans in between licks, cleaning my pussy

He pulls away when I finish, looking up at me, his face soaked in my cream

"I love eating your pussy baby", he says seriously

Oh my fucking god

"I...I.. loved it too", I admit

He smiles as he sits up, wiping his mouth, then pulling me closer to him by my legs

"Need to fuck you", he says, positioning his cock right at my hole

"Yes Joonie", I nod, wanting him so much

I don't know if this will happen again and I'm letting him do whatever he wants

His eyes move to my pussy as his cock enters me

"God you're pussy is so pretty", he murmurs, pushing inside, splitting me open so pleasurably, "Taking my cock so well. Fuck, that little hole is so pretty spreading for me"

He slides all in, his body shaking as his cock nestles inside me, head against my spot

"Fuck baby, your pussy looks so pretty wrapped around my cock", he says, mesmerized

He pulls back, then thrusts in hard, making me moan, his eyes watching where we meet as he fucks into me

His thrusts are hard and fast, stroke after stroke throwing me into bliss, impaling me on his fat cock

"God you're so creamy", he mutters, pounding into me, the drag of his cock so fucking incredible, "Making such a thick pretty ring around my cock. Want more of this cream all over"

I whimper, loving how good he is at dirty talk

I watch him fuck me and god, he's beautiful

He's so big- big arms, big chest, broad shoulders

I can see his muscles in his chest, his abs hard and tight as he ploughs into me

He's so sweaty, a sheen on his body, drops dripping down his chest, some dripping from his hair, falling on my stomach

Pleasure is all over his face and his body

He's so fucking hot

His eyes move from us, running along my body, biting his lip

"You're so beautiful", he murmurs, "Such a sexy little body, pretty pussy, gorgeous face. You're fucking perfect"

My mouth drops in disbelief that these words are coming out of his mouth

His eyes move to mine, gazing hard, "You're mine"

I blink in surprise

"Do you hear me?", he demands, leaning over me, one of his hands landing on the couch next to my head, his hips rolling into me faster, "You're fucking mine"

I nod, "Yeah Joonie"

"Only I get to touch you. Only I get to fuck you. No one else", he continues, the sound of his skin hitting mine so pretty, "Only I get to kiss you"

I nod, "Kiss me now Joonie"

He immediately leans down, his lips crashing into mine, tongue already playing with mine

I fall into his kiss, moving my legs around his waist, clenching around him

I need to feel him against me and I move my arms around him, pulling him flush on top of me, my hands roaming his broad back as I kiss him

His hand moves behind my back, lifting me up, keeping his sweaty body against mine, his pelvis rubbing against my clit with each stroke

His mouth moves against mine, his back muscles moving under my palms, the feeling turning me on so much

His other hand moves around my boob, groping me, his thumb playing with my nipple

"Mmmm", I whimper, my pussy throbbing around him so hard, so fast

I'm so close

His cock is fucking good, so skillful, keeping me in ecstacy

It's blowing my world

"Cum for me baby", he whispers in between kisses, "Cream my cock"

The next hit to my spot has ecstasy tidal waving over me as I cum all over his hard fat dick

"Joonie!", I cry, breaking the kiss, my fingers digging into his back as pure unwavering bliss pounds into my body

"Fuck, baby. I'm gonna cum", he moans

I lock my legs around him tightly, wanting him to fill me with cum

I'm in too much pleasure that I can't talk, my mind utterly blank, so I keep my legs around me

"Baby...Jo...I'm...I'm..oh fuck", he groans, sheathing his dick in my pussy, his cock throbbing hard, warm sticky cum shooting inside me

"Joanne. Baby, fuck", he cries, his big body shaking against me

"Namjoon!", I whimper, his cock feeling so good when he cums

I've never felt that before, never felt a cock so acutely while the guy was coming

It's probably because he's so fucking big

When he finishes, he lays down on top of me, his face in my neck

I slide one hand up into his hair, stroking softly

I also run my fingers up and down his back as well, loving the way his skin shivers, making me smile

I just want to hold him for a little bit before we get up and everything goes back to the way it was

Back to best friends

"I love you", he breathes

I freeze, wondering if I'm actually hearing him correctly

"What?", I whisper

"I love you", he repeats softly, "I love you so much"

"You do?", I ask, still in shock

He nods, "I...I was always in love with you. Always"

Always?

What does he mean always?

He had a girlfriend throughout high school, he got with her within a week of finding out about my feelings

He's dated other idols

What does he mean?

"But in school-"

"I loved you then too", he admits, blowing my world up

"But you had a girlfriend. A week after you found out my feelings for you"

"I...I didn't believe it", he says quietly, "Hae told me about your feelings but I didn't know if she was telling the truth. And I was too scared to say anything. I was scared to lose you if I told you how I felt and you didn't feel the same. And with Hannah, I had already had a date with her two days after I found out about your feelings and I just went with it"

I take this in and while it sucks I can't blame him

I was deathly afraid of losing him too, that's why I never said anything

And almost kicked the shit out of Hae when I found out what she said

"You're my best friend Jo, I needed you and I didn't want to jeopardize our friendship"

"And now?", I ask

He still has no idea that I love him, doesn't know if he's jeopardizing our friendship now

"I just...I can't take it anymore. I can't be around you without desperately wanting to kiss you", he whispers, "And I got so fucking jealous hearing you yell for Jungkook and Yoongi. I know I shouldn't have, I know you were just cheering for your friends but I was so jealous and angry. I didn't even plan on any of this. When you walked in, I made a snap choice and I kissed you. Everything that happened was amazing and I want more. I want to be with you, I want to be able to kiss you when I want, hold you when I want, stay the night with you, just be around you. And that made me tell you. I love you"

I smile, hearing those three words, I've always wanted to hear from him

"Joonie", I call, lifting his face to mine

His eyes avoid mine and I need him to look at me

"Baby", I whisper, his eyes finally gazing in mine, hope and fear in his, "I love you Namjoon"

Shock fills his eyes as he takes in my words

"I always loved you too baby", I tell him, "From high school. You're everything Joonie, everything I could ever want and more"

"Really?", he asks in disbelief

"Really baby. Everything you want I want. I want to spend all my time with you. I want to kiss you all the time, be in your strong arms, love you", I assure him, "You're mine Joonie and I'm never letting you go"

"Don't let me go baby", he whispers, "Don't baby. Ever. And I won't let you go"

"Deal Joonie", I smile, "I love you"

A huge beautiful bright smile breaks on his face, his dimples showing

"I love your smile Joonie", I say softly, gently touching his dimples, "It's beautiful"

"I love yours Jo", he answers, "I love you"

My smile widens, pressing my lips against his

He kisses me back and I'm so fucking happy

As we kiss, there's a pounding on the door

"Oi, are you done? We're walking around the hall like idiots!", Jungkook bellows

We pull away with Namjoon rolling his eyes, "Two minutes!"

"Awww", I whine

He smiles, running his fingers in my hair, "It's ok baby. We have all night to be together"

I perk up hearing that, "Yeah?"

He nods, "Yeah. We can go to my apartment or yours. We can eat, watch some TV. Then I'm gonna fuck you all night"

"All night?", I smirk

"Yeah", he nods, "In between we can cuddle and take naps"

I giggle, "Sounds good baby"

"Good", he agrees, giving me a quick peck, "Let's get up before these pain in my asses keep knocking"

I nod, both of us sitting up and collecting our clothes from around the room, putting them on

"Uh Joonie?", I call, holding my ripped panties up, "What am I supposed to do now?"

He grins, "Hmmm, well your dress is long enough to cover you so I'd say give them to me"

I raise my eyebrow but hand them to him and he proceeds to put them in his pocket

I roll my eyes, "You're such a guy"

"You're guy", he adds, coming closer, kissing my forehead

"Yeah, mine", I smile

"Hurry up!", Tae yells, knocking

Namjoon sighs, walking to the door, opening it

"It's about time!", Jungkook whines as he walks in, "Where should I not sit?"

Namjoon rolls his eyes, "That couch"

"Noted", he says, going to the other couch

The rest of the guys file in, sitting in the various chairs and couches in the room, avoid the one we fucked on

"Come baby", Namjoon says, taking my hand and leading us to "our" couch

He sits, then pulls me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me

"Guess they're together", Hobi says loudly

"Yeah. Shut up", Namjoon answers, making me laugh

I lean back, moving my arm around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss

His soft lips kiss me back and I'm so happy he's finally mine

#namjoon smut #namjoon fanfic #bts namjoon smut #bts namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon fanfic #rm smut #rm fanfic #bts rm smut #bts rm fanfic #bts fanfic #bts smut

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badsongpetey · 11 days

Text

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

The Water Guardian: Part 6

The question wasn’t would Lance come back, it was simply how soon. How soon turned out to be very not soon enough in Lance’s considerable estimation. School, work, and family obligations conspired upon him in a clearly targeted and evil scheme to keep him from gaining internet fame through an exclusive friendship with a reclusive cryptid. All of which led to Lance standing by Keith’s pool nearly two weeks after his last visit.

It’s just as beautiful and serene as the first time he saw it: water splashing gently down the rocks; birds and frogs chirping their songs; trees rustling in a gentle breeze. The kind of place that could instantly relax a person — that is if the person weren’t a Lance person currently standing around waiting on a very conspicuously absent dragon.

“Um, Keith?” Lance hesitantly asks the forest. He feels like an idiot. If there were any other people around he’d die of embarrassment, but fortunately or not, he seems to be completely alone.

Is Keith here? Is Keith even its name? Keith seemed like a pretty bland name for a cryptid, maybe he’d heard it wrong. Maybe it was really like “Kyitth” or something more magical, and now he was offending the dragon by mispronouncing it. Or maybe he really had been poisoned by contaminated pond water and had hallucinated the entire exchange. The longer he stands there, the more he worries. Dammit Hunk, why weren’t you faster getting out that test kit? Sure, yeah, maybe he could’ve waited to dive in…

“You’re late.”

Lance spins to see Keith up to his chest in the water, glaring daggers at him.

“Whoa, dude, maybe give a guy a head’s up or something before popping up outta nowhere?” Lance only half jokes, trying to cover for the near heart attack he just experienced.

“You’re late.”

Lance huffs, “Look, we didn’t exactly put this little get together in our calendars or anything. Things were crazy, I came back as soon as I could.”

In response Keith sinks up to his nose in the water, and squints with ferocity in Lance’s direction.

“I really tried.” Lance throws his hands up in the air in exasperation, how did he forget how annoying Keith is? “I TRIED. I was BUSY. But, look, I’m here. I came back. Isn’t that what matters?”

At this Keith disappears beneath the water completely, leaving behind only a few delicate bubbles which dance across the surface.

Lance sighs audibly. Like what does Keith expect him to do? Instantly give up his entire life to be at Keith’s beck and call? Figures he’s somehow managed to find the world’s most entitled cryptid.

Loud splashing draws his attention back to the water as Keith vaults effortlessly out of the pool and onto the surrounding rocks, and, yup, naked again. But this time Lance has come prepared. Looking away, because again, his mama raised a gentleman, he reaches into his backpack and tosses some clothes in Keith direction. He hears a satisfying thump as the bundle clearly hits its target — he always had impeccable aim.

“Lance?”

Lance figures that’s his signal that it’s safe to look. Keith stands before him wearing black sweatpants and an old grey t-shirt he was willing to part with. And it’s, fuck, it’s cute, okay?

“You’re really attached to the clothing huh?” Keith is smirking again.

“People wear clothing, Keith. It’s just polite. If you’re gonna look like people, you gotta cover up. It’s non-negotiable.” Lance is dying on this hill.

Keith shrugs, “If you say so.”

“I do. Say so. Yes.” This is gotta be the one of the more ridiculous demands Lance has ever made, telling a cute guy to cover up, but Keith isn’t a guy, even if he’s cute. What he needs is a subject change, immediately. “So, ah, what do you do around here for fun?”

Keith frowns, “Fun?”

“Yeah!” Lance smiles, “I mean, I know you’ve got the whole guard duty thing, but it’s pretty quiet around here, you must do something to pass the time.”

“This water is my sacred responsibility, and my life-force, it’s not just a job.” Keith growls.

Ok, open mouth insert foot, Lance didn’t usually have such a hard time starting up a conversation. “Hey, I didn’t mean that what you do isn’t important. I mean, this waterfall, it’s beautiful. You do a good job taking care of it, I’m sure it’s a lot of work.”

Keith softens a bit at the praise, “It is. But I do what I can.”

Lance decides to come at the question from a different angle. “Does watching over this leave you any time for anything else?”

Keith cocks his head, thoughtful. “I patrol, swim, take care of the animals, repair damage to the land, and sometimes…”

Lance thinks he can hear Keith end that sentence, but it’s so soft he can’t make it out. “Sometimes you?” He prompts.

Keith looks away. Embarrassed? “Sometimes, when there’s time, I, read.”

Lance’s eyebrows shoot all the way up past his hairline. The cryptid, READS?! “You read?? Like, books?”

“What else do you read?” Keith fires back.

“Hey no,” Lance backtracks, “I didn’t mean… I just, I didn’t expect you to have books out here?”

Keith scowls, “Why? Because I’m just some monster to you?”

“What? No!” Crap, were all dragons this touchy or did Lance just get extra lucky? “I didn’t mean that, it’s just that you live out here in the middle of absolute nowhere. It’s not like there’s a library. I didn’t figure you’d have, I dunno, human stuff.”

Keith looks away. “They… were my father’s.”

Oh shit. Did that mean there was some even bigger and grumpier dragon around? No, Keith said they were his father’s, that means… Keith has turned almost completely away from him. This is definitely not a bear he should poke.

“Uh, sorry.” It’s a lame response, but Lance isn’t sure what the protocol is on consolidating a cryptid on the loss of a family member.

Keith shrugs, “I didn’t know him.”

In the awkward silence that follows Lance becomes convinced that Keith can hear the sound of the gears grinding in his head trying to come up with a way to salvage the conversation, because he quietly adds, “Would you like to see them?”

“I’d LOVE to!” Lance practically shouts in relief before attempting to regain his cool. “I mean, sure, if you want to, it’d be cool.”

Keith glances back at him, and, yep, there’s the eye roll again. But also a tiny smile? Lance will take the win.

#klance #voltron #keith kogane #lance mcclain #vld #water guardian au #dragon keith #klance au

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wanderersbell · 1 year

Text

a birthday wish

traveling companion!wanderer x gn!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 3211

a/n: it's finally his birthday aaaa i love him sm (real). scaranation we gotta come together and make sure he gets everything he could ever want and more!! .:☆*:･'(*⌒―⌒*) enjoy!

something has changed.

over time, the wanderer has gotten used to the unusual things you do. it’s typically no cause for concern when you do strange things here and there, but this time it’s different. he can’t figure out why, but you’ve been giving him these quick thoughtful glances all week that are starting to get on his nerves.

“if you’re going to look so shamelessly,” he had said in a bored voice a few days into this new habit of yours when he caught you in the act and you averted your gaze. “you may as well just keep staring since you’re not very subtle about it to begin with.”

you had given him an unimpressed glower in response and then closed your eyes as if to prove a point, but he still caught you looking again less than an hour after that, searching his face like you might find an answer there. an answer to what? he doesn’t know - and he’s not too sure he’s ready to find out either. maybe it would be better not to know.

the heavy weight of your gaze became such a common occurrence that he noticed right away when you stopped doing it. as much as he wanted to deny it, it bothered him that you’d suddenly lost interest in whatever it was that kept drawing your attention before. did you get tired of looking at him? did you finally find whatever it was that you were looking for? do you no longer find him interesting? are you going to leave?

he refuses to voice these thoughts, unwilling to acknowledge that he might be a bit clingy despite himself and has resorted to simply trying to bring your gaze back to him in any way possible.

however, if you’ve noticed how much more effort he’s put into fighting enemies and carrying out the small menial tasks for you that he usually complains about, you stay silent about it and carry on as per usual, eyes never staying on him for longer than a few seconds at a time.

then finally, on a day that he expects to be as normal as the rest, you stomp over to his side and drop a wicker basket down on the table in front of him with a thud. “we’re going on a picnic.” you state cheerily.

he feels his heart jump into his throat for a split second before he realizes, no, there’s no way you would know. he hasn’t mentioned it once. for you to somehow have figured out today is his birthday is impossible, so surely this is just one of your spontaneous ideas that you like to spring on him without warning. the fact that he allowed himself to think like that, even for the quickest moment, has him curling his hands into fists under the table. he doesn’t deserve anything from you, especially not on a day like this.

“do i even have a say in the matter?” he grumbles, already pushing himself up from his seat. the wanderer moves to reach for the handle of the basket with the intent of opening the lid and finding out what's inside, but you react faster than him and swipe it right out from under his prying hands.

he raises a suspicious brow at the basket that’s now hidden behind your back. “what did you pack? it’s not a bunch of sweets, is it?”

a knowing smile finds its way to your lips that makes his blood run cold and burn hot through his veins at the same time. “you’ll see when we get there.”

“and where might that be?” the wanderer asks impatiently while crossing his arms over his chest. “oh wait, let me guess,” he follows up sarcastically, trying to ignore the fond look of exasperation on your face. “i’ll find out when we get there?”

you make a small affirmative sound through your soft giggles and start leading him in the direction of this mysterious destination. he follows you without resistance and makes sure to walk at the same speed as you so he remains directly at your left side.

it’s nearing late afternoon as the two of you weave down winding paths that lead to varying parts of the rain forest, and the warm light that blankets everything in its reach paired with your presence next to him brings him the same happy contented feeling that being near you always draws out of him.

it’s a feeling he still struggles to accept, to convince himself he can allow himself to have. the burden of the things he’s done in a past life of his and the instinct to shut out anything that threatens to break through his resolve always make themselves known at the worst times; hanging thickly in the air and trailing slowly behind him like they’re waiting for him to turn around and fall back into his old beliefs.

but when he looks over to see you walking closer to him than necessary but still making sure to give him his personal space, clearly wanting to be near him but still respecting his boundaries all the same, the wanderer finds that it has become much easier to ignore the part of himself that still craves self destruction.

the wicker basket swings back and forth in your hand and your eyes are fixed on your feet as you walk, trying to mirror your traveling companions’ pace step by step. a small determined smile rests at your lips while you try not to mess up the timing of each movement.

eventually, the path you’re on splits and tapers off into a smaller trail that you both merge on to. a bit farther ahead where the trees give way to a clearing, a lush green field that sits on a small hill comes into view. the grass is strewn with wildflowers of all sorts, dancing gently in the wind that sweeps through the delicate blades.

he comes to a halt next to you when you stop abruptly at the bottom of the hill. “we’re here,” you announce proudly, squinting a bit against the sun. “it’s nice, right?”

the wanderer hums indifferently, secretly admiring the vast stretch of greenery that glows golden under the setting sun while you dig a small blanket out of the basket and unfold it to sit on. he joins you a bit too eagerly, kneeling to lower himself down on his knees right across from you on the fabric.

it’s almost unfair how enchanting you look against the backdrop of vibrant flowers with the orange sun framing you from behind like a halo, and he can’t help but be grateful that he doesn’t have to breathe in the first place because he surely would’ve passed out from a lack of oxygen by now with how often you take his breath away.

far too distracted by these thoughts, he fails to realize how long he’s been admiring you until you suddenly speak up.

“now who’s the one with the staring problem?” you tease with amusement evident in your voice. he doesn’t miss the sly glance you give him and scoffs to cover up his embarrassment.

“i wasn’t staring,” he starts to refute, but quickly forgets to finish his sentence when he sees the things you finally start unpacking from the picnic basket one by one. four perfectly made cat shaped onigiri lined up on a rectangular platter are placed in the middle of the blanket, followed by two servings of cold soba noodles in hand painted porcelain bowls and a small roll of bird egg sushi.

a very rare positive moment of nostalgia and longing for his home region swirls through his chest at the sight of dishes that he’s sure he hasn’t had in at least two hundred years. “it’s…” the wanderer trails off, unable to stop the frown that weighs down his eyebrows.

“traditional inazuman dishes!” you finish for him, unaware of the confusion brewing up a storm in his head. it’s blatantly obvious you did all of this with him in mind, but he just can’t figure out why. he knows for absolute certainty that he has never mentioned the date of his creation, but what kind of coincidence is this? if he didn’t know any better, especially with all of the staring you had been doing recently, he’d probably assume you’re a mind reader, but he knows that isn’t possible so what on earth-

“do you… like it?” you ask quietly, sounding almost unsure. the wanderer realizes with a start that he’s been sitting here scowling at the food for the last few moments and the proud expression on your face had at some point morphed into one of nervousness. he internally chastises himself before nodding in response to your question.

“it looks nice,” he says honestly, picking up one of the feline shaped onigiri and inspecting the carefully molded rice that resembles two pointed ears. the seaweed wrapping is cut into small shapes to form whiskers and eyes and a smiling mouth.

he’s reluctant to admit it but they’re… cute. adorable, even. it’s safe to say in all the time he’s been around he has yet to see such innocently crafted rice balls, and he isn’t even aware of the small grin on his face as he looks at it against his palm.

“you made all of this?” the wanderer asks despite already knowing the answer. he reveres in the way you shrug proudly and nod at his question, eyes sparkling excitedly as you hand him a pair of chopsticks from the basket.

“mhm!” you confirm while carefully lifting a piece of sushi from the platter. “i found some recipes in an old cookbook and wanted to see if i could do it. try it!”

at your insistence, he finally takes a bite of the onigiri and hums appreciatively at the tuna filling in the center when he chews. the portions are perfect, the rice to filling ratio was obviously measured carefully, and the mental image of you in the kitchen putting so much care into these dishes makes his chest swell with so much fondness that the wanderer has to start digging into the other items to keep his cool.

everything you made is delicious. there is certainly room for improvement, but to say the wanderer is impressed is nearly an understatement. he’s sure there’s no way you got it this perfect on the first try so there must have been multiple failed attempts before this, and plenty of trial and error. it doesn’t take long to finish everything between the two of you, and thinking about how much effort you put into this food from his place of origin on this conveniently timed picnic in a field surrounded by his favorite flowers has him seconds away from giving in and asking if you somehow knew, but he doesn’t get the chance when you reach into the basket and present two empty glass jars.

he quirks a questioning brow and at the same time takes notice of the fact that the sun has already descended into the horizon and the sky has taken on a cool blue and orange ombré that draws out tiny flickering fireflies with every passing minute. they look like miniature floating stars against the darkening field of wildflowers, and when he looks back at you he can see them reflecting off of your eyes in an enchanting light show that carries with it a million unspoken words.

“well,” you say while handing him one of the jars. “lets catch some fireflies, shall we?”

he takes it from you and stands up to entertain your plan, but still grumbles out a, “this is so childish.” just loud enough for you to hear. the melodic ring of your laughter fills the cool dusk air with an ever so comforting familiarity.

amidst the dimming and glowing sea of lightning bugs, the wanderer watches in awe as you gleefully uncap your jar and start trying to usher them inside. he can’t take his eyes off of you as you skip after them, as graceful and carefree as a leaf fluttering in the wind.

pretty, he thinks to himself amidst the field of flowers. though he had expected nothing from today, this turn of events is undeniably better than he’d like to admit.

while he wasn’t looking, a single firefly had found its way into the jar in his hand and rested lazily at the bottom, almost as if it was tired from flying. like living up to its own purpose had taken everything out of it, and in a last attempt to be useful it let itself settle into the hands of the enemy. he watches the firefly glow weakly with a complicated expression, finding himself feeling strangely empathetic for the pitiful thing.

unbeknownst to him, you had managed to catch a handful of fireflies in your own jar where they flew around leisurely and bumped into the sides of the glass every now and then. you return to his side without saying a word and uncap your jar, tilting it over the opening of his and letting one of the fireflies in your jar find its way into his before securing the lids on both of them.

the firefly you had given him immediately makes its way to the bottom of the jar where the other one sits idly, and within seconds the once pitiful lightning bug starts flapping its wings and joins the second one in a speckled yellow dance near the top. when he looks over at you, you’re already staring at him, and the depth of the emotion swirling around in your e/c eyes sends a spark of muffled electricity down his spine.

“make a wish,” you whisper towards him through the approaching dark. the wanderer quirks a brow at this, trying to figure out what wishes have to do with fireflies.

“a wish? why?”

“just do it.” you reiterate, gesturing to his hand holding the cool glass. the wanderer huffs and glances down at the jar in his hands where the two fireflies hover around each other and then looks back up to you, watching with eagerness written clear all over your face.

wishes are such arbitrary things, nothing more than useless sentiment that sets someone up for disappointment when it doesn’t come true, but it’s hard not to indulge you when you’re practically vibrating with anticipation in front of him.

“you first.” he demands, leaving no room for negotiation.

“fine,” you relent and groan lightheartedly. a soft yellow glow illuminates your face as you lift the jar to rest against your forehead and close your eyes. when you open them again, you lower it and meet his gaze steadily.

“my wish is to spend many more birthdays with you.” you announce with a sincere smile. “happy birthday, wanderer.”

all he can do is stare in mild shock for a few moments, and when your words fully register the wanderer’s eyes widen almost comically. “wait- how did you-“

your own eyes squint shut with a delighted giggle. “a little birdie told me this very important day was coming up soon,” you explain slyly, clearly pleased that he hadn’t figured it out yet. “so i wanted to do something for you.”

though your words are vague, he catches on almost immediately and fights the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose at the realization.

lesser lord kusanali, he sighs inwardly. i should’ve known.

“you shouldn’t have done all of this for me,” the wanderer mutters, trying his best to keep his voice even. he’s annoyingly touched by everything and swallows back a lump in his throat as tears threaten to prick his eyes. through the countless decades of birthdays that have passed by him without notice, nobody would have even considered doing stuff like this for him, not even if they knew.

you’re so kind to him, always including him and going out of your way to do things for him even though he’s the last person in teyvat to deserve such a thing. it stirs the part of him that wants to claw its way out and reject this, to roar with rage at how ridiculous it is to waste your time on somebody like him. but all he can do is stare at you in wonder, burning under the warmth of your attention.

“well i wanted to, so i did.” you shrug unapologetically. “if you hadn’t been created today all that time ago we never would’ve met, so of course it should be celebrated.”

he’s beyond grateful for the low light right now because he knows you can’t see the deep flush on his cheeks at how boldly you’re able to say these things. the confirmation that everything today - and all of the staring and planning leading up to it - was indeed all for him, has him at a momentary loss for words.

“you mean you really…”

“i want to stay by your side.” there’s so much honesty and confidence behind your statement that his jaw opens and closes like a fish a few times before he can decide on how to respond.

“how foolish,” he says sharply but a bit shakily. “what if you regret it?”

“and what if i don’t?” you counter without missing a beat. “the future is whatever it will be, and right now i’m choosing this.”

you’re right, and he knows it. he knows firsthand that there is no changing the path of fate, that the wisest thing one can do is to live in the moment and go wherever life takes them. he swore he would never care for another being, would never again play the part of a human or allow himself to feel as one - but when you stare right through his eyes and into his soul like this, he can’t ignore the way he yearns to live a life that allows him to be with you every day.

with that said, you turn on your heel and skip back out to the middle of the field again, emptying your jar with a gleeful laugh. the glittering bugs in the air look like moving constellations around you. you, the burning sun at the center of a universe that sustains the cold, lonely planet that once orbited alone in the dark for so long.

“c’mon!” you call out to him cheerfully. “if you can’t catch more than me you’ll have to make two wishes!”

gazing down meaningfully at the two lightning bugs flying together in his jar, the wanderer makes his first one into the night under his breath, so quietly that not even the moon would be able to overhear. it’s plain and not at all what he expects to say, but it escapes his lips in a soft admission of the truth.

“if your wish is to stay by my side, then my wish is only you.”

the wanderer opens the jar and watches them flutter away, with the little buzzing stars reflecting in his eyes and the sound of your laughter gracing his ears.

maybe over time he would learn to enjoy his birthdays, as long as he gets to have them with you.

#yaepublishinghouse #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #my writing

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excali8ur · 8 months

Note

How did you get so good at drawing? And do you have any tips??? (Pls I'm a beginner help)

Honestly dude you never get good at art. It's sweet that people like my stuff but I still feel like most of it sucks and I think that's sort of an inherent part of drawing lmao. You've just gotta decide to keep doing it anyway because it matters to you

I do have a few tips for improving your technical drawing though:

Do figure sketching. If you can go to in-person life drawing classes that's great, and there'll usually be at least a few running if you live in a city/big town, but you can do it online too. Here are some websites I use: Line of Action / SketchDaily / Quick Poses. Try drawing with different lengths of time (so start with poses appearing for 30 seconds, then move up to 1 minute, then 2, then 5, then 10). Also don't feel too bad if the first few times you try it and the sketches don't turn out quite right or the proportions get messed up or you run out of time. It's part of the process & you'll improve the longer you keep at it. Just try to use longer & messier lines and don't focus on the details until you have basic shapes blocked out. (This is literally what I tell anyone who asks me for art advice because it's about the only drawing exercise I ever deliberately do lmao)

Draw real life subjects and not just from photos- it's more challenging but helps you develop your observation & sketching skills. This includes still life and landscapes/architecture as well as living things btw

Use references as much as you can. I suck at this but it'll genuinely make you improve faster if you do lmao. You can find loads of references on Google or DeviantArt but I also have some specific places I get them from: JookpubStock / Fat Photo Ref (requires registering but I can verify they're legit) / AdorkaStock / Teamwarchicken (actually my blog that I use for collecting images)

When you're learning to shade remember that you're shading a 3 dimensional object, and try to avoid just doing shading around the very edges of things. Same goes for highlights.

Try drawing in different styles and subjects you don't usually draw. If you can afford it try out different physical art materials too. It helps keep the art block at bay if nothing else lmao

Don't be a perfectionist. Learn to just say "good enough" and not obsess over mistakes. It's better to draw lots of slightly wonky things than one thing that you freaked out about getting perfect.

If anyone else has any other advice/resources then please add them! I do not know as much about art as people think I do hjfgjkhdf

#My secret tip though that may be controversial is that if you literally only want to draw one thing and don't care about improving-#-Then that's fine. Draw that thing. You don't need to be The Best you just have to like what you're doing #personal #asks #anon #Also like don't obsess over finding “a style” it's more than okay to be inconsistent with the way you draw things #You don't need a brand lmao #I have a lot more I could say but it's hard to condense it into a post so this is what you get. Hope it's ok lmao

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foldingfittedsheets · 3 months

Note

rando looking for art advice if that's okay :p

I've always wanted to be able to draw cool things for myself, in the same way some of my friends can(they're REALLY good). and I know in order to do that I just gotta draw a lot, practice makes perfect, I'm gonna suck for a while but drawing more means I'll improve. yeah, yeah, I know all that.

but I'm finding it hard to get it started, to get motivated enough to draw. cuz sometimes I'll be like "I wanna draw", and then I draw and it sucks and I'm like "I don't wanna draw :("

do you have any tips for a beginner? not technical art tips, just like how do I get started or get motivated to start. are there tutorials you can recommend(I'm good at following instructions)? or things I can draw that are easy if you're starting out? or just whatever advice.

thanks :p

So, as far as motivation I think I might just be a lil freak, but I draw because I actively like to draw. Even when I wasn't very good, I felt compelled to put pen to paper just for the act of creation so my first piece of advice (besides practice) is just: Make art because you want to and try to divorce whether it's good or not from your enjoyment in that act.

My second piece of advice is that the first year of art school is three critical tools that are really boring but really helpful. The first one is perspective. If you can nail perspective, just dumb lines leading back in space, it does so much heavy lifting for you.

The second tool is sight measuring. Have you ever seen artists doing that stupid thing with their pencil or paintbrush while closing one eye? It's literally so helpful. If you are drawing say a tree, and you drop an imaginary vertical line from a branch you can figure our if your drawing of that tree is awry. When you get good at sight measuring it becomes second nature to do those checks, even in digital art, but it's easy to forget. When I'm doing my little 20 minute speed paints I'm constantly sight measuring to keep stuff in proportion.

The last piece is that practicing drawing from life will improve your drawing so much faster than anything else. Doodling your favorite pokemon or anime character over and over won't be as helpful as boring ass still lifes. Seeing how light reacts, observing the objects form, and practicing sight measuring will all help you improve as an artist.

As tax, I'm going to share a couple examples of schoolwork. This was my first class in perspective. This is how much I improved in a three month period, my first middle and last assignment.

These are from my form class, no lines allowed we needed to use value to describe the form. We did charcoal and gouache so here's me trying to show my progression in that class.

These are just freshman work, from my very first semester. Honestly I have a whole folder of all my assignments so I can scroll through and actively see myself improving, and I highly recommend that too, because it's wildly motivational to see how far you've come!

#ask ffs #art advice

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honeeslust · 2 months

Text

Satoru Gojo | you cryin?

🖤 inspo for this comes from that slutty gif of Satoru in the box. I know well all collectively had… thoughts… but couple that with the ‘you cryin’ and yea… lets go!

🖤 WC 4100+

Could you imagine falling in love with someone like Satoru? The man can process anything coming his way faster than it can even be perceived. This is except when it came to falling for you.

That being said, he's not going to baby you into the supernatural three ring circus that is his life. That would be arrogantly irresponsible.

As soon as he knew you weren't going anywhere, he made a point to teach you to fear the dangers of his world as he understood better than anyone the cost of bearing such a burden. One of the first things he made sure you understood was how to be wary of the places that gave off a any kind of bad vibes.

But... it wasn't like you set out for this... but you know what they say about the curious cat...

An uncharacteristically frantic Satoru is losing his mind when you don't make it home at your usual time. It really could've only been about 10 minutes past the time you were due to be home but at the moment, none of his thoughts were logical. Not when he could almost immediately intuit the danger you'd found yourself in.

... Somewhere else

You're bound by your wrists to something sturdy above your head. Your body is so weak you can't even pick your head up enough to make out what it is you're tied to. Even after jerking around with all your might, the chains retaining you hadn't so much as budged.

It was hopeless. And now your murky vision has to be betraying you. Your surroundings were moving in ways it shouldn't.

And was that... a man just now?

Your eyes swept the area around you to find nothing but the dark empty expanse staring back at you. Every ounce of your energy having mysteriously been sapped from your body. Defeated by the onset of fatigue, your head hangs between your shoulders.

Shit Satoru. I fucked up...

Yea. You did sweetheart.

A voice echoes out from somewhere nearby, but every direction you turn in is still just an endless sea of black. Panicked, your words wisp out of you shakily.

Wha-?..who are you?

I'm Mahito...

The disembodied voice calls out to answer you as he figure slowly emerges from the shroud of darkness ahead of you.

Thanks for making this easy for me.

Why the hell am I here Mahito?

Isn't it obvious? Satoru! He'll come running for you. And when he does well... he's no longer gonna be a problem for us.

Your chains rattle against the reinforcement as you struggle to turn away from the foreign hand now clutching your face in a harsh grip. The entity winks at you. His hand is hot on your face, hotter than it should be. It makes your skin crawl and you flinch away in disgust.

Don't fucking touch me.

His lip draws under his annoyingly perfect teeth, as he looks you over pleased with your choice of costume.

Hah! Quite a mouth you got on you little angel. If only I could get locked in here with you, Im sure I could make a devil outta you.

Tch. Ooh. If only. you snide teasing him with a pathetic pout before you spit right in his beautiful face.

Wait. What did he mean...locked ? As in.. inside?

God-fucking-damnit!

Mahito swings his powder blue locks over his shoulder, breaking into a fit of maniacal laughter. He smears the wad of saliva from his face to lick it from his finger.

Fuck! Satoru's a lucky one.

You seem like you'd be so much fun.

Ah well. I'm sure you would've made a fine plaything. Its a shame I gotta leave you here now.

Too bad. So sad Mahito. Best be on your way, bitch.

Your body trembles, betraying the evil glare you aim in his direction. What he'd said before was beginning to sink in.

Locked in...

Fuck me!!

Mahito comes closer to you, making you flinch away.

I guess you're right. I'm sure he'll be here soon and I'm not trying to fight him...Even I know my limits.

He stoops in front of you, his bicolored irises flashing in delight as he reaches past your ear to play with the hem of your angel wing. Guess this is goodbye pretty one.

With that, retreats. Vanishing into the shadows leaving you stranded in the dreadfully cold loneliness. The accompanying darkness enclosing you doesn't help your nerves much either.

As if things couldn't get any weirder. A faint blue fog appears before you and seemingly moves toward you. It creeps closer and closer. Moving about unnaturally as it does so. A hand made out of bones materializes out of the cloud and then... more and more of them emerge. Entire skeletons. Swarming in around you until youre body is swallowed whole by the vapor.

...

Y/n......

Y/n. Wakeup.

Hmm? God Satoru what?

Baby. Wake up.

Your eyes flick open and you're ready to slap Satoru for waking you up before the sun when you didn't need to be.

But wait! This wasn't youre room, this wasn't even a place. You were as happy to see Satoru as you were horrified to see that you're still tethered to the chains from before.

You found quite a place to try and have a nap. Sweetheart.

You know I wasn't napping Satoru ... Now can you help!! you say yanking the chains.

Tsk tsk tsk. He admonishes with a shake of his head. I won't lie. This sucks

Yea it does. Help me outta these won't you.

Mmmm.

What do you mean mmm?

I mean... I did try and tell you....

You scoff rolling your eyes hating exactly how right he was. He told you. Time and time again. Halloween is the worst time to be out and about as a newly awakened sorcerer.

Ugh okay. Baby you made your point. You gripe putting on your best pout and jangling your chains in his direction. C'mon. Satoru let me outta this.

I don't think I will. Not until you answer me one thing...Why were you out here alone?

Because I wanted to be. I can handle myself just fine, thank you. You say proudly even though you knew that in your current predicament, you looked at least 2 sizes too small to for the big shit you talked.

Oh you can huh? He exclaims bearing a crooked smile down at you. But did you ever happen to stop and consider what I said about Halloween.

No. I didn't. You lie.

Immediately. You're met with a look of disbelief.

You don't huh...?

He cocks his head to the side. Leaning over you to jostle your chains.

... You comfortable like this sweetheart? He says rubbing the side of your face suggestively.

You roll your eyes. You know I'm not.

So then tell me why? You're a fucking danger magnet. It follows you wherever you go. You know and you pull this shit?.

Satoru recalls the moments he spent panicking when he couldn't get a read on your energy. And that was exactly what they had hoped for when they dangled the chance to save you in front of him. For the second time in his life, hes d walked into a trap.

He kneels on the ground in front of you, and arm draped across his thigh, the other caesses the side of your face. Why would you risk it y/n?

You stare back at him, too stunned by the vulnerable look in his eye to keep your attitude. Does it matter?

The hell are you asking me right now? Yeah y/n it matters to me that you put yourself in danger.

Awwww. Satoruuu. Were you worried? You sing songed out, teasing him.

His ears burned red.

Shut it. But yes. Obviously I was Sweetheart.

Fiiiine. Fine. You say giving him a small smile. But for real Satoru...You taking me outta this or not?

He glances up over your head, sizing up the length of your chains. Yeah. I will...Once I figure this out.

What?

Oh yea. Guess it seems this place was designed to keep me from using my abilities. So we're trapped here until the people out side can figure out how to get us out.

You're kidding!

Nope.

Fuck. Your voice shakes as the panicking kicks in. What in the actual fuck am I supposed to do now? You ask when you notice him looking down at you.

But wait Sweetheart. I can't lie. You look good in this position.

Tsk...Boy! Don't start. Baby you have to get me outta this.

What?....I'm allowed. I mean baby, you had me going crazy. And now well...I feel like I need to take advantage of this interesting little situation we find ourselves in. Gimme a moment to appreciate you like this.

You glare at your boyfriend. No way this angel eyed menace meant that.

No you creep. You're crazy Satoru. Cmon.

You're so annoyed with your boyfriend but there a glint in his eye as he's staring down at you in your vulnerable state. The depth of those ocean eyes could drown you a hundred times over and right now there was a storm brewing behind them. He was truly enjoying the sight of you, twisting so feebly as if you really wanted to deny this could and would happen. This situation was completely fucked. Sure. But damnit if it wasn't the stuff good girls who keep their heads stuck in smutty books would cream over.

No...You're not seriously considering....

Why not? Baby you're so fucking hard headed.

You laugh.. Yeah and...?

A hard head will make for a soft ass. Every. Fucking. Time Sweetheart.

Why did that send a sneaky little quiver right to that spot? Oh right, cause no matter how screwed you might be. It'd be worth it to let Satoru have his way with you. His mean side is his sexiest side.

Now you'd pissed him off. Sure. But Satoru figures why fight about it when you could fuck about it.

I like you like this. All that mouth on you. No where to run off to... Shit. Why didn't I think of this?

Your complexion ripens under his gaze. God. You're loving this aren't you?

You have no idea.

He lowers himself to your eye level, giving you that cocky smile of his but his piercing stare emanates something more than just frustration. Could it have been a little bit of relief you saw in his eye?

Before you could figure it out, he kisses you. Long and hard, his hands encompass your face as if he couldn't let you go. Your cheeks burn in the palm of his hands as his tongue rolls around your mouth, the strokes of his tongue resonating between your legs in repeated pangs pleasure. He breaks away, pressing his fore head against yours.

You make me crazy y/n you know that don't you?

But I thought you liked a challenge Satoru?

Fair enough. But... I don't know..

He skims a finger down the front of your blouse before he pulls his eyes back to meet yours.

... There is only so much a man can take sweetheart.

He tears the thin fabric away with ease making you yelp in response. You stomach tightens, flesh bared and prickling with goosebumps.

But...

Shhh now. I think you like making me like this. He quiets you, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

But Satoru I...

Any aht! Say the truth. It's just us here after all.

You're panting heavily staring at him with wide eyes.

Maybe... You hesitate, drawing your eyes to his lips, still rosy and wet from your kiss. Maybe it's fun to ruffle those perfect feathers of yours a little...

Is that right?

You shrug... Guess I can't help myself.

He slowly begins to reach his hand down to your waist, keeping his eyes fixed on yours as he does so.

The clatter of the chains reminds you where you are and for a moment, you question whether you can do this here.

I didn't mean to get snatched though. You call out in a weak attempt to make up for the stress you considered you might've put him through.

No you didn't... But here we are. Guess there's nothing else we can do except maybe this.

He tucks his fingers into the strap of your lingirie and snaps the tight band against your skin. You shiver, rattling the chains again.

Uh...Shouldn't we use our time more productively Satoru?

Yeah, I'm about to...Let me get these off you.

He tears at the suspenders keeping your wings attached and they fall the the ground. He rips open the white lacey bodice, leaving you in nothing but the tight thigh highs and gstring, and matching body harness up top

He's kneels before you, pressing his body between your legs. His palms brush softly up the sides of your thighs as he asserts himself over your body.

He glares down at you, his hand groping at the tented area of his pants.

I think it's time we make up don't you think.

You bring your foot up to his shoulder and nudge him away with a feeble kick. God, I cannot stand you.

I should be saying that to you.

Whatever.

Excuse me?

He leans in to press a kiss to the side of your neck.

Whatever Sat— the sudden use of his tongue in your favorite spot catches you off guard.

... What was that now sweetheart?

He asks boasting a cheeky grin as he continues to kiss his way further down your body.

His lips halt their movement right at your navel, granting you only a single moment of clarity. Your eyes open to see him giving you a dangerous look.

Now about that apology.

Your eyes opened wide. What apology? I've done nothing wrong.

No? He asks now trailing his fingers along the wet edge of your panties.

I am.

Your sure? He says looping his finger around the damp fabric and pulling it to the side.

Yes. I don-- ahhh you cried out tugging against your chains and tossing your head back.

His fingers lazily slip between your folds, effectively putting a stop to the sure tantrum you were about to throw.

He prods your clit with his thumb, biting down on his lip as he regards the pleasure overtaking your features.

I'm listening... He suggests slowly dipping his fingers inside.

Use your words baby. I'm gonna need that apology. C'mon. It's easy. Iiii—

He croons teasingly curling his finger inside and pulsing it right against the spot he knew would have your toes curling in no time.

Your legs squeezed together around his arm making him laugh aloud while adding another finger. He begins to pulse them inside you.

Fuuuck Toru...

Yea I know. Say it baby.

Damnit. He's too good at this.

I'm sorry...fuck baby, right there. You squeel in satisfaction, drool beginning to pool in your mouth as your core twisted tighter.

Hmmm. I'm not convinced.

Why don't you try again?

His fingers are rutting in and out of you.The warm enclosure wrings tight around them until you're spilling forth everything, mewling out how sorry you were.

He sets back onto his legs, looking down appreciatively at his little brat, trussed up and convulsing with pleasure when he gets an idea.

He lifts the hem of his shirt over his head a tosses them to the side. He reaches up somewhere over your head and you feel a yank on the chain. A sudden sound of shrieking metal fills your ears, jarring you back into your body.

Did he just???

Sato-?

You're dragged forward until your wrists are pinned into his chest, leaving you unable to unleash your barrage of verbal assaults at him.

You Fu-— your words are muzzled into his kiss and he groans, tightly grabbing the cusp of your ass in a grip that almost hurt. He punctuates the kiss with a sound smack to your rear.

He unlocks his lips from yours, and pushes against your shoulders, forcing a gasp out from your lips.

Satoru? You begged watching him wind the harsh metal chain around his fist. The metal grated against itself as he clinched it tight, giving the metal a yank until the steel bit down into your flesh.

You say your sorry Sweetheart...? Show me.

He was perfection. His slutty little waistline is accentuated by the way his hip jutted out to the he side. Your eyes dropped to the large print lying across his thigh and as mad as you were, your mouth watered.

He undoes his pants and lets them sag around his waist. He flips his dick out over the top and pumps himself slow.

Get it wet pretty girl... maybe I'll believe you. He says with a flick of your chain.

You bent forward, ass hiked up to his liking so he could palm your cakes like a basketball. You brought the swollen head of his dick between your lips, and moaned over him as his fingertips dug into the right spot of your skin.

Hes impressed his little angel doesn't immediately gag on his cock, hes fascinated even. You're so slutted out for him that you forget that he could've freed you at any moment.

Never mind that youre now trapped in this place with minimal hope of escaping. Your minds put all of that aside to focus on the singular object of your affection and the way he helps you along, hands free, he guides himself in and out of your mouth. Keeping a taut hold on your chain as you bobbed back and forth on your elbows. throating every inch of his cock like a glove.

Are you really sorry ?

Mmnmnnmmmngghgg

Ahh. baby... Teeth!

He shudders feeling your garbled apologies vibrating along the tight corner in the back of your throat where his length was now comfily housed.

Fuck y/n. You can do better than that can't you?

Lemme hear it? You sorry or not?

He's so mean about it. Fuck! it makes you wet. It makes you want to sacrifice your breath just to choke on him more.

His body tenses as all the blood rushes to the same spot. He bucks out of your mouth before he can release into the back of your throat.

You're still not making me think you mean it.

Don't you wanna show me?

I do! I meant it Satoru.

He places his fingers under your chin and presses his thumb against your puffy wet lips.

Yea?

A smile pulls at his lips. He believes you. But hes greedy for more of this. He knew that eventually he could fuck the act right into your hard headed ass.

Mhmmm. Alright. Guess I gotta fuck a proper apology outta you... Don't I?

Turn over!

You're body obeys before you've even registered what's happening. He knees your legs apart, pulling back on the chain to hear the way you yiped out. Somehow he's got you hunched over on your knees, your hands held back by your new leash.

Please Satoru.

Tsk. Oh sweetheart. You know thats not what I wanna hear.

I'm sorry baby...

Your knees are burning from all the time spent on them, but it doesn't matter. Your pussy glistens with your arousal for him and the wet hole is repeatedly clenching in wait. You need him as bad as the air in your lungs, maybe more.

The honored one slaps your ass. hard. The bite brings tears to your eyes.

Ahh. I'm sorry. Satoruu. Fuck.

Manners baby.

SLAP.

Baby I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Ohh god please. I need to feel you.

Your flesh stings with another sound slap to the other side causing a your walls to clench tight around nothing. Fuck! It aches so good that your toes curl.

He could feel the heat emanating from your body. He could even see the heavy glow of pleasure as it surrounds you. Even in this dark dank place youre golden aura shines bright in his all seeing eye.

He aligns himself and pushes a few prepatory nudges inside you. Tensing his jaw, he grumbles through clenched teeth until he's buried the full extent of himself inside you.

You welcome the stretch with a drawled out moan, thank you.

Thats my girl.... Won't save you though.

The emphasis of his words are punctuated with a sharp thrust forward.

Ssss, starting to feel like you sorry angel. Keep it up and maybe I'll let you out of this. He brags yanking back as he brought his hips back against you ass to make you sink your nails into the terrain beneath you.

He moves back and forth. again and again... Each time plunging deeper until you were squirming away. He's so deep you can taste the blisssul release creeping up on you. Its sweeter than nirvana, the feeling of him colliding somewhere inside that makes you forget what you're even sorry for.

He's bullying your cunt with a brutality you've never felt. He's beside himself, watching his cock disappearing inside you again and again. You're unable to flee from the shock as he's tugging on your new chain leash.

I want to protect you.... you need to let me!

Ok. Yes Satoru yes. You're whining, inching yourself forward for a moment of relief. There's just absolutely no way your body can take the pleasure he's forcing upon you.

Awww baby, quit your running. You wanted this didn't you? You like to ruffle these perfect feathers? Thats what you said right?

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you wail, twitching pathetically as he draws back and returns with a resounding pound that all but knocks your lights out. You're blissfully cock drunk, the wetness leaking down out over the base of his cock.

It's like he's saying it over and over and over.

...love... you...

... protect.... you.

You can't move, you can't think, you can only feel him fucking his frustration right into you.

Let me... baby....Am I understood?

Yes Satoru. Yes.

Lemmie hear you! Say it again!

Satoru—- Please... Ohhh I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, you scream out letting that dick turn you into groveling mess.

Satorus entire body quivers at the sight of your ass clapping against his skin as he picks up the pace.

Are you? I cant hear you.?

Say that shit like you mean it!.... Say it!

He's being mean and he knows it. But he needs you weak. He needs you broken. He needs you to quit putting yourself in harms way because he wouldn't know what to do without you.

everything you put him through resonates with the pleasure hes giving. You're right where he wants you, so his palm slaps harshly across your ass, his continued unmerciful thrusts knocking loose every screw in your brain.

Baby I am. I swear. Im so so so so sorry!

He yanks, dragging you back against him hard. He traps your arms in a tight lock behind your back and slowly rolls his hips to etch himself deeper. Imprisoning you in his arms, he growls lowly in your ear.

I don't believe you.

He forces you back over, this time pushing your chest to the floor. You're vibrating on the brink of an insidious rapture. Skin clapping against skin. Him tuggeong on your leash to to keep that arch the way he likes it. His pace is unrelenting. Like he was dead set on making you feel how crazy you made him.

You beg and you beg feeling the sloppy trails of arousal leak down the inside of your thighs. You'll say anything, do anything, BE anything for him. He has to know that. But still, he's unrelenting.

What's left of your voice creaks out in a whine.

So so so so sorry daddyyyy ohhhhh.

The moniker spills from your lips making him jolt with pleasure, spilling all kinds of his honored elixir into your trembling mess of a cunt. You're so full of him that your entire body spasms.

Daddy huh?

He likes it. It has a ring to he didn't know he needed to hear. Your clenched so tight he cant pull out. Fresh hot tears are running down your face and you look over your shoulder too distraught with your shattering to even speak to him.

He's gasping for the breath he takes. Beyond satisfied with your apologyas he blinks away the stars in his eyes. a wicked grin stretches across his lips when he sees the tears streaming down your face...

Wait!!. he chuckles, curling a portion of the the chain around either of his hands. He snaps the links and pulls your pleasure riddled body to him.

He clutches your chin between his fingers, and grins.

You cryin'??

@littlemochabunni @ryomens-vixen @biscuitsngravie @crescentmoontsuki @blkkizzat @thecookiebratz @residentfromnowhere @i-literally-cant-with-this @arlerts-angel

#smut oneshot #smutxanime honeeslust #blackgirlswhowriteanimesmut #jjk season 2 #jjiscenes #gojo satoru x you #satoruxblackreader #satoru x reader #you cryin?

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ivanzplaid · 10 months

Note

This is an idea I had last night and I just remembered it. Otis with a male reader who used to be a cheerleader. What would Otis think about it?

i absolutely love this idea because its just so otis, i have no other words to describe it other than that. he would LOVEEEE THIS, i literally cannot thank you enough for this thought. yes i am trying to rebrand my blog because i am currently moving myself into a new bedroom so i feel the need to make everything new, and i also like how this looks LOL

requests r open, masterlist is up!!!

otis driftwood x m! formercheerleader!reader | drabble & hcs

warnings: some sexual comments/references, typical otis behavior, fluff

it would most likely come up as a random fact you shared with him, not thinking much of it, but he is majorly interested. loves to find out even more how non-conformist you are, just his own little pride in you that he finds

"You were a cheerleader? Didn' take ya for one of them frilly typa guys.. what did you do in it?"

will genuinely be interested because hes never really heard of or seen any guy do that, and he most likely wasnt given that opportunity growing up (we see that he likes the more literal arts)

hes happy that someone shares his artistic mind and will ask you if you remember any moves or any routines.... or if youre still as flexible (he would like to test that out)

baby will eventually find you two as youre in the middle of a routine, and she sits down to admire as well. shes most definitely interested snd will be begging you to teach her anything's

will try to memorize your figure as you pose and draw you to materialize your beauty (not that he doesn't tell you it enough, he just thinks that youre a work of art, especially when youre in your own world)

wants you to tell him about the uniforms... for so many reasons. for one he wants to know how you used to dress in this specific sport, once again because his lack of knowledge. and two because he wants to make sexual innuendos and comments about how good youd look if you dressed for him like that again.. he just wants to see his boyfriend all pampered up for him giving him a show

will pay closer attention to how much you use your former abilities around the house, and how much of a help it actually is to everyday life and helping mama around

may try to recreate your uniform with his victims clothing.. as a cute little present!!!! he just wants you to know that he values your hobbies and own experiences and that he does care about you

if you have any routines you remember, and decide to show him, hes going to be confused as hell as he tries to recreate the chants

"Lets go! P.. a... n.... shit sweetheart whats the next letter?"

loves to tease you about it and make fun of you lovingly, because partially he thinks its hilarious that you used to jump around for fun

may decide to test your gymnast skills from time to time and surprise you by wrestling or by having some sort of dare going on, hes gotta keep you on your feet

also loves to compete with you, sometimes seeing who's faster or who's stronger, or more agile. he'll make it a game when youre chasing victims to see who catches them first, or who can keep them down longer

"Don't get it wrong handsome, i'm still stronger."

as you can see is very adamant that he could and will beat you in a fight if it ever happened.. slightly threatened but also turned on

makes you reach or stretch for affection more. whether it be making you go on your tiptoes to kiss him, or go through obstacles to cuddle

#house of 1000 corpses #otis driftwood #otis driftwood x you #otis driftwood x reader #slasher #slashers #slasher x reader

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 months

Note

hey dany! is it alright if I ask for a touch prompt? I noticed that you said earlier that it was okay to ask for them, but I just wanted to make sure 😭 if so, could I ask for either 24 hand holding or 10 hugging for Josh Lyman? This man is occupying my mind rn and I just figured I’d ask! thanks and hope everything’s going well!

Sure thing, buddy! I went with 10: hiding their face in the other’s neck

Warnings: Pure fluff; established/long-distance relationship

"You're gonna have to let me go some time—"

"Sssh."

"Josh," You laughed softly, leaning back to get a better look at his face. The slight movement made him tighten his grip around you, and you searched his face with a gentle, chastising smile. "I'll be back in a week."

"Do you have any idea how long a week is?"

"I know precisely how long a week is. That's why I'm so comfortable telling you that it'll only be that long before I get back."

You raised your hand, cupping his face and gently sweeping your thumb over his cheek.

"I'm gonna miss you," You admitted softly.

"I'm going to miss you, too, sweetheart."

You smiled, then giggled as Josh curled closer, pressing his face into your neck.

"Josh."

"Your train doesn't leave for another twenty minutes. Do you even have a track yet?"

You cast a wary glance toward the departures board. "...No, but—"

"So indulge me."

You smiled, sliding your hand up into his hair and gently massaging the nape of his neck. His gentle groan hummed against your skin, the heat of it making your stomach flip.

"...You know, I've been thinking," Josh murmured.

"Unsurprising, you do think quite a bit."

"Hey, just—Gimme a minute here." Josh leaned back, holding your eye. "I've been thinking that there's gotta be a better way to do this."

You frowned, shaking your head. "There isn't, Josh. Flying is faster, sure, but it's so much more expensive—"

"I don't mean how you travel, I mean..." He trailed off, glancing around Union Station as if there wasn't anywhere safe to look. "I mean..." He finally met your eye again, and held it. "I mean maybe you don't have to leave at all."

Your brow knitted together in confusion.

"Josh, we've talked about this—"

"I know—"

"—I'm not comfortable moving in with you unless we're married, so until we sort all of that out—"

"I know," He nodded. You felt one of his hands fall away, and sucked in a stunned breath as he lowered himself to one knee, drawing a small velvet box out of his pocket. He smiled gently, gaze searching yours as he opened the box.

"I can't keep letting you go."

#Josh Lyman x Reader #Josh Lyman x You #Josh Lyman/Reader #Josh Lyman/You #Josh Lyman imagine #Josh Lyman fic #asks #replies #requests

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missamyrisa2 · 2 months

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Hi umm so I have sort of a tickle kink that not many know about and I was sort of wondering if you could do scenario where I’m tied down and you’re just using feathers and your nails to exploit all my weak spots

Awwww you're sooo adorableee~~ of courseee my sweetieee just relaxxxx and let me fix you up with the giggliesss mmm? I'll just take these softttt colorful scarvess ~ these are my favorite, we can get you nicely secure and snugg ~ but you can still wiggle so sweetly as we explore your ticklishness together ~ sooo we'll put one arm up and wrap itttt and tie and there we areeee ~ mhmm that's just my fingers fluttering in your underarm ~ gotta test our ties yes we dooo~ and now the other arm ~ just cooperate with me cuteness, and we'll get you allll fixed up ~ anddd let's seee is this armpit ticklish? Oohh my my my such a wiggle from my nails tracing the outer rim~ we'll remember that spot yes we willll~

And ooh yes, let me see this ankle. Put that right thereee this goes around your leg and downnnn down we gooo~ mhmmm cooperate with me sweetheart ~ the faster we get you secure the faster you can melt into giggles for meee~ oh yes sorry I'm taking this shoeee we'll just toss that there and mmhm tickle tickle tickleee on your foooot~ oooh yes, nnice and snug ~ you can't kick away can youuu and you can't not laugh uh uhhhh~ ah ah ah we have one more foot to tie down. And there we goooo and nowww mhmm I'm gonna secure your natural waist ~ that's this area riiiight here right above your belly. I have one of my thick belts for thattt ~ don't worryyy your tummy will be nice and exposed tooo~ not gonna cover this twitchy button oh no we're nottt~

How's that feeeeel? All secured to my table, all wigglyyyy~ you're all cozy with my colorful scarves and your body is soooo sensitive, I can telllll ~ I know a ticklish cutie when I see one ~ and guess whatttt? This featherrrr oooh yes this bright blue feather feather is twirling riiight for that bellyyy ~ we'll take it across sloooowlyyy and fast fast fasttttt over your navellll and up this siiiide and oh! that siiiide and why yesss I do believe that's my tickly nail drawing on your waist right nowww~ that's this waist, you see you have your natural waist and I guess the unnatural waist? I dunno, but it's this line of ticklishness right under your tummy and abdomen ~ and I'm tickling ittt! Oooh yess I am~

How about those hip bonesss? Mmmh? Those hip bones? Tickle tickle tickle! I can just do my thumb rubs riight down your sides and get those hipssss ~ they call it a thumb roll, I dunno~ who's they? I suppose the international order of ticklesss ~ whoever decided that saying tickle tickle tickle needs to be like 2 or 3 timesss~ hey have you ever wondered how so many people just like ~know~ the tickle song? You know, when you say tickle tickle tiiiiickle with that emphasis? And there's also tickle tickle! And it's like they always say it so similarly ~ I dunno, just seems funnyyy like we all figured it out the same way how to make a cutie like you gasp and wiggle just by saying things ~ and also squeezing above your kneeees like thissss~!

And down to the feeeet we goooo~ my feather is gonna just poke ~ just a litttle poke ~ right between these toes and theeeese toes and those toesss and yepppp that's my soft blushyyy brush twirling on your sole~ makeup brushes are sooo good for the soul darling ~ believe meee darling ~! darling darling darling why would ever lieee noooo I wouldn'ttt ~ but I wouuuuuld give each of these toesies a kisssyyy koo oh yes I woulllldd~!

Let's seee how about this biiig fluffy makeup brush to fan you tum ~ let's see how that feeels ~ tell me all about it noww~ how often do you think about being tickled ~ mmmhm~ and do you imagine yourself tied down like thissss? Yeahhh? Maybe one ticklerrr or two ticklersss? How many ticklers would you wantttt? And how many times a day are you thinking about a feather dipping into your navel like thissss? Soft little probeyyy tickles in and out of your button~

Did you ever think you'd have a silllllly tickler like me snuggling up all sweet like this as I run my nails over your armpitsss? Just sloooowly slow slow ticklesss on your pitties while we talk your ticklishnesss? Awww nooope we're gonna dish some moreeee~ let's hear alllll about itttt ~ you just tell me everything on your ticklish little heart and I'll tickle you alll the way throughh~<333

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darlingshane · 9 months

Text

big bad wolff

Pairing: Braxton Wolff x Marybeth Medina

Summary: Passing on a contract is a first for Brax, but there's something pulling at his heartstrings that is far more interesting than the money he was offered.

Content/Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Dom/Sub Undertones, Alcohol, Associates with Benefits (or something like that).

Word Count: 2k (precisely)

— You can read below or at AO3.

“Hard pass,” Braxton slides the envelope across the table after taking a quick look at his new target. “I don't fuck with law enforcement.”

“That's the line you draw? Thought you were all about the money.”

“I love money. But a man gotta have a code, too. 'Sides Treasury? It'd put a target on my back.”

“She’s an analyst.”

“Still. Working for the federals.”

“What if I double the offer?”

Braxton raises a brow and opens the envelope again to see the beautiful Marybeth Medina in the photo inside.

As tempting as the offer is…

“I'm sorry, Mr. Calhoun. I'm afraid the answer is still no. What did she do anyway?”

“She's got her nose in my client's business like a rabid dog after a buried bone. The only way to stop her from digging further would be to gently put her down.”

“Hm, I've met women like that.”

“I thought you guys were professionals. Can't you make it look like an accident? What would you say if I added another 50 grand?”

“It’s possible, but accidents can get the wrong people asking the right questions, and I can't have that in my line of business.”

“You're a hitman.”

“And you're a two-time slimy lawyer that scours a six-figure representing the scum of the earth that make me look like the Easter Bunny.”

“I have to say, Mr. Wolff, your reputation does not precede you. Mr. Davenport won't be pleased to know you have refused to do your job.”

“Davenport is not my boss. Tell him I said hi.”

He watches Calhoun like a hawk as the lawyer retrieves his cellphone from Braxton's assistant.

“Did you tap it?” He asks once Calhoun has left the premises.

“Who do you think I am? Of course, I tapped it.”

“Good. You tell H to get a detailed list of all his calls, meetings, texts… I need to know where this asshole eats, when he shits, where he does his dry cleaning…”

“The whole gist. Got it.”

“Put a couple of guys on Medina, too. Just in case.”

“I thought that was your job.”

“Yeah, but I'm afraid they're going to double down now. I can't take those chances.”

“You had to piss him off, didn't you?”

“You know me, sweetheart. My mouth runs faster than my brain. I'm a lost cause.”

Later that night, Braxton sneaks into Medina's building. His guys are already staking the place per his orders.

Medina is not home yet when he breaks into her apartment. It wouldn't be the first time he's done it.

In the dark, he pulls out a mini flashlight and RF detector and checks every nook of her place for hidden bugs.

Given their history, he kinda owes her this one. Even if he didn't, what he said to Calhoun is right, he doesn't fuck with law enforcement. At least not in that sense.

He's going through her desk when Marybeth opens the door.

She’s not surprised one bit to find him there when she turns on the light.

“Look what the cat dragged in. Do you ever just wait for people to invite you in, Mr. Wolff?” She watches Braxton, clad in back, putting his gadgets away.

“Hm, sometimes. But it's not as fun.”

“Business or pleasure?” her frown remains firm as she puts her case down, removes her blazer and steps out of her uncomfortable shoes.

“How about both?”

“Some things never change.”

Marybeth rolls the sleeves of her dress shirt and pulls out a bottle of scotch and two ball glasses from the cabinet, as he takes off his leather gloves and sits at the dining table.

That's how their meetings always start – with a bottle of Lagavulin and a formal debrief that follows with them handling their pressing business between sheets.

“I think I have a mole,” Marybeth realizes after hearing Brax's warning.

“How do you figure?”

“Because only me and my boss know about Davenport LLC. We're still gathering evidence.”

“Is your boss dirty?”

“Ray King?” She chuckles a little, “not a chance in hell.”

“Well, whatever you have on Davenport is making them shit their panties.”

“Davenport doesn’t scare me,” she throws back her glass, taking a big gulp of her drink.

“He should. I’ve seen what he does with pretty faces like yours.”

“You think he’d be that dumb to go after me?”

“He came to me, honey. He is that dumb.”

“You could've just called, you know?”

“Had to make sure nobody was listening.”

“Are they?”

“No.”

“Good. Can we move on now to the pleasure part? I had a long day.”

“I just told you one of the most dangerous men on the planet is after you and you’re not worried at all?”

“Oh, I am worried. But he’s not going to show up tonight, is he? Uh-uh. Not as long as I have The Big Bad Wolff on my side.”

“Gotta say, Medina. You were not like this when we met. You went quickly from little lamb to lion.”

“Maybe I was never a lamb. And, you weren't like this, either. It seems that you actually care about what happens to me, Mr. Wolff.”

“Well, perhaps I do. Would that be so bad?”

“Hm, no. Not at all.” She stands up, offering a hand in his direction. “You coming, Big Wolff?”

“Rock ‘n Roll, girl.”

Braxton downs the rest of his drink and takes her hand, letting her lead the way to her bedroom.

Under the warm glow of the night lamp, and Brax’s brazen stare, her hands undo one by one the buttons of her shirt. As her skin comes to view, he pulls out his boots and slips out of his jacket without letting her out of his sight.

There’s no rush, but the thrill is palpable. It lingers in the air. They’ve already gone through this more times than he can count, and watching her undress her body is just as exciting as all those times he’s ripped her clothes apart.

When they're both stripped to his underwear, his hands automatically are drawn to frame her hips, pulling her body flush against his. Marybeth tilts her head, tentatively seizing his mouth slowly, letting her fingers draw the toned slopes of his arms.

Her tongue moves past his lips as her skin comes alive, buzzing under his palms, as his fingertips sink at the curve of her ass.

Brax tries to take control of the kiss, but Marybeth doesn't waver, and brings one of her hands to hold his chin still. She nibbles his bottom lip before sucking it between her teeth to see it turn dark pink after releasing it.

Usually, she lets him be the one in charge, but tonight she's in the mood for something different. There are things outside this room that escape her control, and here with him is the only thing she can get a semblance of power.

“Thought you wanted the big bad Wolff.”

“I want him on a leash,” her hand curls around his throat without squeezing.

“Yeah? What do I get in return?”

“Me.”

He scoffs and licks his lips, “okay, lil lion, show me what you got.”

Marybeth keeps her hold around his neck, guiding him backwards toward the bed until the back of his legs meet the mattress. He lays down on his back, and she crawls on top of him. She braces her palms on his chest, straddles his lap, allowing her hips to gently circle over his crotch.

His hands are automatically called to hold those beautiful hips that shamelessly grind, earning themselves a good hard-on to enjoy.

Behind layers of underwear, she rubs herself over and over, a little faster each time, letting that sweet spot revel in the friction he provides as the inner side of her panties quickly gets coated in her juices.

Locking eyes with her, he’s utterly mesmerized by the unbearable beauty of Marybeth as she bites her bottom lip. From above, she watches him exhale and buck up like an animal between her legs, trying to drill his way into her.

It's a torturous deed, she's aware. There's a fine line between playing with Brax or riling him up, and she's just lightly tapping on it. If she pressed any harder, it'd be like poking that ravenous wolf.

After a long moment, she brings her hips to a halt and reaches back with her fingers to unclasp her bra. As she tosses it aside, she leans forward to gently bite on his lip.

“Good, Wolff,” she grins, tracing the shape of his lips with the tip of her tongue as her fingers slip under the elastic of his boxers to feel his erection. It fills up her fist, throbs as her hand squeezes just a little harder to have his precum wetting the head.

“Hmm,” his lip curls, showing those teeth he's marked on her skin many times before.

Getting him to a point of perfection, she finally rids herself of her panties and pulls down his boxers. His cock jolts on its own when her knuckles graze his shaft. Propped on her knees, she lifts her ass, lines the blunt tip of his cock with her entrance, and sinks onto him.

In less than a second, as usual, he forgets altogether why he came here as her wet ass pussy slides up and down his hardness.

“Fuck me, girl,” he pants as she sinks all the way down, having her divinely, tight opening pressing around him.

Once she's comfortable enough, she angles her body forward, propping her hands on either side of his head, and moves a little faster. First, just rocking back and forth, and then bouncing with practiced ease as Brax fills his eager palms with her ass. Her breasts are so perfectly round and perked, bouncing dangerously close to his face, he can't help but stick his head up to nibble one of them.

Marybeth, smiling mid-moan, holds his head with one hand as he viciously wraps his lips around her nipple. His grunts ripple all over her skin, making her core ache, as he moves to the other boob.

He uses his teeth this time, there's so much she can do to tame that wild beast beneath her, she wouldn't even stop it if she wanted to. After crossing that line, he's all lips, tongue, and paws claiming her body.

His arms curl around her, and before she realizes, he's turning the tables to get himself on top of her and charge the rest of the way. He desperately pushes into her at full force, coaxing her body into submission. The most beautiful cries come out of her as he drives her into madness when his fingers find their way to her clit.

Having his fingers working furiously on that spot, he bites her neck, scrapes his teeth on her jaw before devouring her mouth. He can't bring himself to stop until he's poured every drop inside her. Braxton gasps for air as he comes undone. His cock is still twitching inside her, trying to ride the wave of his orgasm, when her sweet opening flutters around him. All her muscles seize up for a second as a lightning of pleasure travels through her body.

Holding her jaw, he keeps his mouth open against her lips as his breathing catches and the room suddenly goes quiet below the sound of their shared pants. His stomach presses softly on hers, as he lays completely limp and flat on top of her. If someone were to attack right now, he wouldn't be able to even pick up his gun to defend himself or even stand up. He can think of a million ways worse to die than this, to be honest. Given the opportunity, if he had to choose a way to go, this would be it – post-orgasm, still tucked inside the fine depth of her tender walls, as her fingers softly comb the damp hairs at his nape.

#the accountant #jon bernthal #cynthia addai-robinson #braxton wolff #marybeth medina #the accountant fanfiction #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal smut #brax x marybeth #darlingwrites #requests

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monsieuroverlord · 4 months

Text

BECAUSE I'M STILL UPSET BY RECENT EVENTS...

Warning: my convoluted conspiracy theories and ranting lol

We're only on part one of the Sabretooth War arc, and while I'm deeply unhappy with how that issue turned out, there's technically still plenty of time to introduce a twist that fixes everything (or at least provides a glimmer of solace from that clusterfuckery.)

I've thought on it, slept on it, and came up with a few theories that COULD dampen the blow of last issue.

In no particular order:

Twist Option 1: It's a fake-out and Akihiro is technically not dead. How, you may ask?

The Sabretooth crew's first target was Quentin Quire -- who is supposedly an omega-level telepath. Now, Logan's got telepathic resistance, but he's never been completely immune.

We also saw the Sabretoothes (Sabreteeth?) use a device to knock out Sage and Black Tom, one that distinctly has Quire's Pink Power Signature:

They haven't explained exactly WHAT this device is, but it wouldn't surprise me if they took Quire's brain and made a telepathic brain scrambler device. (wouldn't be the first time Marvel did something similar AND we don't see Quire's head in the final page). Creed's a savage, but also a clever bastard. He wouldn't be opposed to strats like that.

Who knows what that device is? Maybe its some bullshit like "projecting Logan's fears" and that's what he THINKS happened.

Though in this case, it is likely that Akihiro WAS at least captured and greatly injured (but still has his healing factor and is alive). Perhaps will come up later when Creed feels like fucking with Logan some more. (Cue badass sibling rescue mission when Laura finds out)

Not great, but perfectly in character for an extra-savage Sabretooth to draw out the Logan Birthday Bash. (And I'm sorry, but at the barest of minimums, Akihiro wouldn't go down that easy -- he's younger, faster, and much more conniving than his father. Logan has significant training, but he tends to drop it in favor of charging headfirst every time. Aki's always been more disciplined than that. Same with Laura, but that's another rant.)

Now this means Quire is definitely dead, but he also has a bunch of body doubles from X-Force, and he recently self-resurrected after that Cerebrax thing and a back-up body. If a character was going to self-resurrect, it'd be him. (Not to mention, if Betsy Braddock can restore her entire body via telepathy/telekinetics, he should be able to as well)

Twist Option 2: Akihiro IS dead, but there is a secret back-up resurrection (maybe limited use or something)

In the description-preview thing of X-Force #49, they're indicating they're gonna bring back Avengers-era Beast to take down current Beast. Now maybe they just happen to find a Beast clone to upload it to, but there's gotta be at least the groundwork for secret cloning somewhere (I mean, he cloned Wolverine too, so I don't see why not). Avengers-era Beast and Sage (Or just Sage alone honestly) could figure it out.

Then we just need a back-up database of Cerebro to upload memories and all is well. (I'm pretty sure X-Force already had a complete secret back-up database, or if not in canon yet, I wouldn't be surprised if it turns out they did.).

Twist Option 3: Whatever is going on in ROTPOX comes to at least a partial fruition.

Either Xavier somehow succeeds (I don't think that'll be the case, tbh) and Krakoa is no more but everyone killed is reset or there's some partial success that resets Krakoa and resurrection can resume.

Either way, it'll reset the progress Akihiro and Logan have made and bleh.

(This would be such a fucking cop-out, in my opinion, but I digress)

Twist Option 4: Secret Weapon From the Exiles Crew.

Now called The Maroons, Nekra and crew still have that weird Krakoa seed. We don't know what it does yet. Implied to be really bad for Sabretooth, but maybe it also has secret powers like "restoring life to Creed's recent kills via draining his corpse" or some bullshit.

idk Krakoa science-magic.

Twist Option 5: There's another goddamn Muramasa blade/weapon out there.

What ever happened to Laura's Muramasa Armor? And the shield? How many weapons does Muramasa still have out there?

a. that armor will come up, and Laura will reclaim it. Since it also has a piece of Akihiro's soul, they'll extract that (probably breaking the armor in the process) and restore him via dope sword magic.

b. There's conveniently ANOTHER Muramasa weapon, one that can kill Sabretooth but ALSO has life restoring abilities (a weapon created for the perfect balance between life and death)

c. Solem lost his sword via general debauchery. And now Logan is gonna go get it. But also there's secret sword magic (which has life restoring powers) that Muramasa conveniently didn't tell Logan because he didn't feel like it

d. Logan's gonna go get his Muramasa blade (or one of them -- I'm pretty there's at least a couple at this point. wouldn't be surprised if there's secretly more) and there's the same secret sword magic as point c.

e. Percy and LaValle shock us all by giving Itsu some actual character -- where she knew Muramasa herself and gave up a bit of her soul for a secret weapon cuz it turns out she was a badass in her own right, which now can be used in the present day to both kill Sabretooth AND restore her beloved son. (And Logan never knew because he's a dense SOB and has a tendency to put his deceased love interests on a pedestal)

Twist Option 6: No twist at all. Akihiro is dead, gonna be dead for a bit, and everything is pain and suffering :(

At bare minimum, I wanna see Aurora pull her brother's moves from X-Men #163:

Just full speedster mode and kick his ass. She'd probably be more ruthless and I'd like to see that.

Or speedster sibling tag-team mode with said ruthless ass-kicking.

(I crave vengeance)

That's all I got. If you've made it this far, thanks for reading lol

#can you tell I'm still upset?#i don't know if I'm in the denial/bargaining stage of grief #or just being dramatic #or both #probably both #my ramblings #wolverine #laura kinney #daken akihiro #fang #logan howlett #james logan howlett #james howlett #wednesday spoilers #by technicality

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in-need-of-gally-content · 9 months

Text

|Chapter•Nine|

•|Masterlist|•

(M/n) found himself trying to sleep for the remaining hours he had left of rest, but he soon realized it was useless, he can't fall asleep again because his mind is awake, alert, and on edge.

He sat on the mattress and reached his hand to the bookshelf, taking out his journal and a pen from the box, reaching up the top to turn his lamp on, opening a random empty page and (writing/drawing) about his dream, or what he could remember of it, which wasn't much.

Closing the journal, he stared at the WCKD label on the hardcover, and he couldn't hold back from doodling all around it, drawing devil horns and fire around it.

After a little while of mocking the Creators, (M/n) was getting bored, sleep was definitely not coming back to him until later in the evening, so he found some rope made of hay, and the origami he had done. Poking small holes in them with a needle and using the stray strands of the rope to secure the paper on the rope, he thought some simple decorations for the walls didn't sound too bad. He kept hanging the origami on the rope, leaving roughly 3 centimeters of distance between each one, and he soon ran out of rope, so he placed it on top of his bookshelf to hang it later.

(M/n) realized there was no point in staying in his room any longer, the sky was turning clearer but there was no sight of sunlight just yet, so everyone was still asleep. He stood up and grabbed his bag with the few snacks he packed the previous day and walked out.

He quickly yet silently made his way to the kitchen to grab his bottle and put it inside the bag, before jogging to the closed Maze Doors, placing his bag on the ground to make his way to the Blood House, he decided he was gonna be useful before he left for the day.

Greeting every animal that woke up, (M/n) filled their water and food bowls, greeted Bark with pets and kisses, staying outside of the barn to play with him for a little while. Until his eyes noticed two figures approaching him, Minho was heading his way with one of the guys he saw on his first day, the long-haired blond one was... Dan, right?

"Alright, boy, I gotta go," he leaned down and kissed Bark's head, walking out of the barn as the Maze Doors did their mechanical growl-like sound as they opened.

Bark watched him from his spot, his tail moving slowly as the three of them ran into the Maze, observing (M/n) as he disappeared.

/////

Running the Maze was quiet at first, until Minho started making conversation with both of them, and of course, (M/n) ended up mentioning Gally, catching Dan's attention, seeing the playful smirk growing on his face as he looked at him over his shoulder.

"Gally, eh? Didn't picture him as your type, greenie," (M/n) felt his face warm up but he decided to blame it on all the running he had been doing, laughing and shrugging.

"We're not like that-" he couldn't finish his phrase because Minho snorted.

"Yeah, they're just friends, Dan," (M/n) scoffed playfully at the obvious sarcastic tone in Minho's voice.

"We are!" He exclaimed with a wide smile, laughing a little between words.

But Dan wasn't convinced, "Not with the way he looks at you, no," both Dan and Minho kept running ahead of him, chuckling at each other as if they got their hands on the world's biggest secret, and (M/n) was... Confused, to say the least.

Dan's words made his heart beat faster and his tummy tingle, but he knew better than to believe anything that wasn't said by Gally himself. They're just playing, yeah... That's all they're doing.

And now, it was time for a chance of pace, "So..." He started as he approached them, keeping a steady jogging pace, "How long have you been a Runner, Dan?" The blond glanced at him and tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

"Almost two years, but I'm not exactly a Runner, I'm a Map Maker, although we do run the Maze as well," (M/n) frowned and nodded at his explanation. There were some jobs that had some sort of 'ramifications' for putting it in a fancy word.

"Kind of like the Builders and the Brick-nicks, I get it," he added to his explanation, humming as he glanced up the huge walls momentarily. They were approaching new territory, or so it seemed, because Minho looked at Dan, who reached for his bag and pulled out a journal and a pencil, mapping the turns they did, along with the unexplored pathways.

He wasn't expecting to be running along unknown territory, but he trusted Minho, if anyone knew anything about the Maze, it was him.

//////

The sound of the Maze Doors opening woke Gally up, he sat on his bed and rubbed his eyes before yawning. There wasn't much noise coming from the Glade besides a couple of guys awake and walking around, usually Frypan and some other cook getting up to start with breakfast. And Gally wasn't the type to laze around for long, so he got up from his bed, picked up his sketchbook, and made quick way to the bathroom in the Homestead.

He greeted Fry on his way past the kitchen and subconsciously started making his way to (M/n)'s tree, he only realized where he was going when he spotted Bark walking in the same direction as he, both of them stopping and making eye contact briefly.

"Hey, boy," Bark wagged his tail at him and continued on his path, Gally right behind him. He watched how Bark laid next to a tree, under its shade, and Gally briefly remembered that Bark had been staying at the treehouse all the while (M/n) was gone, the poor labrador was already there when he and (M/n) had come to chill out for a little bit.

He reached for his sketchbook when an idea sparked in his mind. Flipping through the pages, he found the finished blueprint for the treehouse, stapled to the page with the original sketch. He moved the paper away and gripped his pencil, doing a rough drawing of a dog house on the free space under (M/n)'s room, making it a close space to protect Bark from the cold wind and the rain, a foundation so he wouldn't sleep on the mud, sketching a small roof under the window, where his food and water bowls would be.

Gally is focused on getting every detail done as precisely as possible, figuring out (M/n) wouldn't really mind Bark's company, they really seemed to get along, a relationship of unconditional and mutual love.

But he's so entranced in what he's doing that he doesn't realize a few hours going by, skipping breakfast and lunch, only snapping back to reality when he hears the alarm of the Box coming up, and he remembered (M/n) telling him a thing about how there might be something for him with the supplies.

Gally secured his sketchbook back on his utility belt and jogged his way to the Box, reaching it right when the mechanical gates were opening up. He ignored everyone that asked him where he was, and silently jumped in the Box.

Looking around briefly, he spotted a rather small white cardboard box that had (M/n)'s name written on it, and he decided to leave it for last before handing crates of various sizes to the rest of the Builders. And when everyone was busy getting everything to their respective place, he grabbed the cardboard box and climbed out.

"Hey, uh..." Everyone around looked at Gally as he spoke, watching him fidget with something in his hands, "I'll be right back, start without me."

Doug nodded and called for everyone else to keep working on getting their supplies where they belong, and Gally turned around, heading to the treehouse.

Bark spotted him from afar, lifting his head off the ground and his tail thumping softly on the grass, Gally smiled at him briefly before going up the ladder and opening the door.

The bookshelf they built together sat next to the mattress, and the double curtains (M/n) made were held up by a nail on either top corner of it, some thinner rope tied to each one. The curtains were open to showcase the books on the horizontal crates on top of each other, his clothes and other things were kept in the vertical ones on either side. It was simple and looked nice. And...

They made it together.

Gally walked inside and place the box on top of the bookshelf, basically working as a drawer and bedside table by now, and he noticed the journal laying next to the lamp. A chuckle escaped him at the sight of the silly doodles around the WCKD label on the hardcover, some words written under it but crossed out.

And then he saw all the origami (M/n) did tied to a rope, it looked like it was gonna be some simple decoration, and he wondered where he was gonna hang them. He looked around for a moment, the little bit of light coming through the slightly open curtain made the place look cozy and homey.

Gally found himself wanting to stay inside for the remaining hours of the day, but he had stuff to do, so letting out a sigh, he turned around and left the treehouse.

//////

While he was busy placing the supplies in their respective spots, he overheard two other Builders snickering nearby. They had their back turned to him so neither of them had seen him.

"Well, but... Even if she is hot, she would be so much hotter if she stopped being... Like that, you know? It feels like I'm attracted to a guy, I hate it," Gally's jaw clenched, suddenly remembering (M/n)'s comment about how he would never fit in the Glade, and how everyone viewed him like... A girl.

He stood straight and stood behind them, towering over them, being a head taller than both.

"If I hear you talking about (M/n) like that again," both of them flinched at the rough tone in Gally's voice, looking up at him, trembling under his glare, "You'll be working under the sun with no breaks," they gave frantic nods at him, staring at the deep frown on his brow, "And you'll be working extra today, now back to work."

Their complaining whines got stuck in their throat when Gally turned around and went back to work.

Unfortunately for the rest of the Builders, they also had to face a pissed off Gally, who was tense and on edge as he supervised their work, especially when they were put to work on something Alby requested needed to be done. Some of them were definitely glaring at the culprits, who worked more as Brick-nicks rather than Builders, but were also part of this whole thing.

No one complained and silently followed Gally's instructions, not wanting to anger him more. However, they felt relieved when he walked away after he spotted Winston, heading to the Homestead with containers filled with meat.

"Winston," he called him as he walked next to him, the Keeper of the Slicers hummed in response, "Could you take Bark's water and food bowl to the greenie's tree house? Thank you!" And he was gone before he could get a response.

"...Sure."

Gally ran over to Mikah and Xan, who were drinking some water and wiping the sweat off their faces, panicking when they realized their Keeper walking closer to them.

"We'll get back to work-," Gally stopped them from doing so, holding them by their shoulders and making them turn around, a little frightened about what could happen to them.

"I need your guys' help with something," he announced calmly, instead of snapping at them for slacking. They briefly glanced at each other, "Come with me."

Gally started heading toward the warehouse where planks, sticks, rope, and such were kept safely, dragging Kurt with them on his way.

He was very brief and concise when he told them what to do. Mikah and Xan were in charge of carrying planks, sticks, and ivy back to the treehouse, while Kurt ran to the Homestead to get the builders' toolbox.

When they were done, he lead the way, telling them where to put everything and how they could stay if they wanted, but they didn't need to help him.

They were skeptical, Gally was mad no less than twenty minutes ago, but he seemed calmer now, and that was nice, but neither knew how long it would last. Even so, Mikah smiled and went to Gally's side, saying something about wanting to help him.

In the end, they all stayed with Gally, listening about the dog house he was planning to do for Bark, who had stood up to greet all of them briefly, pressing himself up against Gally, who scratched his ears like (M/n) did.

While they were discussing the foundation of the house, Winston came by to drop the bowls with food and water for Bark, who went and ate something, taking some gulps of water before sitting by a tree, staring at them as they worked. For now, they were only gonna get the basics done, the size of the floor and the four columns under (M/n)'s room.

A while later, Gally let everyone else go back to the Homestead or wherever they wanted to go while he tied sticks together with ivy, he didn't wanna leave Bark sleeping in the cold, so he was improvising a quick wall that should work as a provisional thing.

But now, (M/n) should be coming back from the Maze.

//////

With nothing to do as he waited, Gally's mind wandered to the single thought of how (M/n)'s arrival at the Glade was two weeks ago. Time does fly when you're having fun, it almost felt like only three days had gone past...

"Gally?"

He blinked and noticed (M/n) standing in front of him. He looked tired and that made Gally frown, although he understood that the greenie would be tired from running for eight hours straight, that didn't make him feel less worried about him.

In complete silence, he handed him another candy, watching how he unwrapped it and ate it, releasing a quiet and short hum as he turned to make his way to the Homestead. Gally followed him closely, keeping an eye on him and seeing how (M/n)'s eyes were closing on their own as he walked.

He watched (M/n) as he sat down by the entrance to the Homestead, and he sat right next to him, "Long day?" He finally managed to say.

(M/n) looked up at him, and showed him a tiny smile, nodding sluggishly in response, "Yep," he replied quietly, barely audible.

Gally offered him some more snacks, but (M/n) shook his head and silently drank some water from the bottle he brought, placing it down between his legs, staring far into the Glade. Everything was quiet, or well, they were the quiet ones, and Gally's mind wandered, realizing how the annoyance he felt earlier was gone, he wasn't mad or feeling on edge anymore, all of that was gone by simply being in (M/n)'s presence, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

It meant he had someone who he could spend time with to relax and be himself without his tough façade, but it also meant (M/n) was his weakness, that he had a soft spot for the greenie and other shanks or slintheads -like Peter or Billy- would soon realize that and he didn't want to involve him in anything that could hurt him-

The soft bump he felt on his shoulder snapped him back, feeling an increasing weight on him. Did he...?

Slowly moving his head to his side, he realized that his thoughts were true, and (M/n) fell asleep on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the feeling of the goosebumps covering his skin and the way his heart started beating faster, and louder -or it felt like it did, pounding like that in his ears-.

Gally really didn't want to move, but he was only able to stay still for so long, since Fry had started calling dinner. He sighed and shook (M/n) gently, calling his name quietly, managing to wake him up rather quickly, as it seemed he wasn't asleep just yet.

"Hm? What... What happened?" He asked sleepily as he rubbed his eyes, yawning and shaking his head a bit, it reminded Gally of a puppy.

He buried the thought in the back of his mind, and stood up, helping (M/n) do so as well, "Dinner is ready, come on."

//////

With dinner going by quickly, (M/n) finished eating and stood up to head to his room, his eyelids closing on their own but managing not to trip on his way there.

He noticed something being built under his house, but he didn't think much of it, he figured Gally had a good reason for it and went up the ladder, putting some force to raise it off the ground before going into his room. There wasn't much he was able to see, but his eyes had been getting used to the dark outside so his sight focused rather quickly.

(M/n) put on an extra effort to change his sweaty clothes to clean ones, leaving the dirty ones on the remaining space atop his bookshelf-drawer-bedside table, and simply... Knelt on his mattress before falling face-first into his pillow, needing to restore energy for the next day, figuring he would be gone for longer again.

That night, his mind was plagued with dreams, but only one stood out, probably because of the feeling of calmness and ease he felt. He was sitting on a rooftop, staring at what seemed to be a city, pretty advanced in his opinion, seeing as it looked nothing like the Glade. The sight and the place were rather eye-catching, mesmerizing in a way, but he realized he would rather pick the green scenery of the Glade over all the lights and tall buildings surrounding him, unable to see more than a few stars lathering the night sky.

Putting all those observations aside, he noticed something else. He could hear himself humming a song, quietly followed by his singing voice, his hand holding someone else's, someone who was humming alongside him.

He tried to look toward the person he was sitting with, to know the person holding onto his hand and gently squeezing it, but his sight was locked straight ahead of him.

"I just wanna be with you, (M/n)..."

There goes the same phrase he heard on his first day as a greenie, the same voice just a little bit clearer, and he realized.

It sounded... Familiar.

//////

This time, when (M/n) was running the Maze, everything was quiet, but he did not mind that Alby and Aiden weren't talking to him, or talking at all, the quiet was nice because he needed time to think, still making sure he didn't stay behind and both of them remained on his field of vision, jogging ahead of him with a few feet of distance.

Minho told him before they left that today they had to explore a new area that opened up in the Maze, they couldn't keep putting it back just because he was on his Runner trial, so this could go really good or really bad. He wasn't worried in the slightest, he had been able to keep up with Minho for two days, and he figured he could...

"Okay, we're here," Alby spoke as they slowed down to a walk, and soon his eyes caught sight of a weird section of the Maze, "Start mapping the Blades, Aidan," the Keeper of the Map Makers nodded, and did the same Dan had done the previous day, he started marking their path, "Greenie," he looked at Alby with wide eyes, caught off guard for a moment, "You're gonna be taking some of the ivies on the walls and would trail our path, so we don't get lost."

He nodded and reached his arms to tear some of the ivy hanging on the walls, putting them on the ground and holding them down with any heavy rock he found.

Everything was alright, but the longer they walked and stayed there, an uneasiness started settling in his chest, he almost felt as if someone- something was watching their every move. (M/n) felt like a prey out in the open, waiting for a predator to jump him.

And he swore he heard something akin to a metal growl in the distance, snapping his attention in that direction, halting his movements. He squinted and saw the sun reflecting onto something, and he wondered what it could be-

"Greenie, don't stay behind," he apologized quietly and obeyed Alby, heading his way while continuing on his task, and yet, he was unable to shake the feeling of anything happening during their time in the Maze.

//////

Gally was pissed.

More Gladers had been making unnecessary comments about (M/n), and there wasn't much he could do when they were part of the Sloppers and the Baggers, he had no authority regarding them, and that only left him angrier, closing his fists tightly as he held back from punching them until they understood they were doing something wrong. But they were slintheads before and they'll continue to be, beating them up wasn't gonna change their behavior.

So now, in order to focus on something else, he was working away to finish Bark's house, taking a few breaks every now and again, especially when Bark came up to him asking for attention and wanting to play around.

He made sure to refill his bowls, realizing the previous bag of dog food had run out but they'd gotten a new one yesterday coming in the Box. Gally noticed that Bark had been feeling lonely and looking down ever since (M/n) had been running the Maze, and he couldn't blame him, he felt the exact same way.

Sitting on the grass with Bark laying on his lap, he realized, has he ever felt lonely in the Glade just because one of his friends wasn't around? The answer was no, he hadn't, and he blamed that on the feeling that he never felt like he had a true friend, or someone who he could consider as such.

He stood when Bark walked away to drink more water, and he tried to continue building, but with his head somewhere else besides the structure, he ended up cutting open the skin of his fingers. He considered just keep working, but it was bleeding quite a bit, as most hand injuries do, so he huffed and made his way to the Homestead.

Walking straight to the med room, he stepped in and immediately made eye contact with Newt, who was rubbing his left leg and groaning in pain.

"It's acting up, isn't it?" He asked quietly as he started rummaging the drawers in his search for bandaids. Gally glanced at Newt, seeing him nod with a frown in response before he went back to look around.

Newt maintained his look on the taller blond, "How you feelin'?" It took Gally a few seconds to answer, simply asking something else in return.

"'Bout what?"

He sighed and simply said it, "About (M/n)," Newt didn't miss the way Gally stopped moving for a short while before taking a deep breath and shrugging, trying to act nonchalantly.

"G-good, I think... He'll be going in the Maze tomorrow as well," Newt silently nodded, taking notice of the small frown on Gally's face.

"But...?" Sighing again, Gally grabbed the bandaid and sat on the couch behind him, fiddling with it.

"I feel... Alone, and like I'm a shucking idiot for liking him because he's into girls but a lot of the guys see him as one... and I'm worried about him being in the Maze with the Runners for so long," certainly, Newt wasn't expecting Gally to actually tell him what was bothering him, but he understood Gally's worry.

Not only was (M/n) -biologically- the only girl in the Maze, but he was also their dear greenie, one that hadn't caused trouble on purpose and had been a great help to everyone in the Glade, whether they deserved his kindness or not, and he was... The guy Gally liked.

Newt wasn't gonna let the thought of Gally liking someone else get to him, he was the one that wanted to continue being friends with him after all, and he had offered his ears and mind to help him if he ever needed to talk about his feelings.

They continued talking for another while, until Gally decided he was gonna get back to work, unable to stop himself from apologizing to Newt for simply rambling and bothering him with his dumb issues, to which Newt said it was nothing and didn't have to feel sorry, that he wanted to help him.

"Don't worry, mate, we're all humans after all," he said as a way to reassure him, and it worked.

But Newt didn't like the way his heart skipped a beat when he saw Gally smiling at him as he left the med room.

With gritted teeth, Newt messed up his hair in frustration, "What the shuck is wrong with me?"

//////

With the sun setting in the horizon behind the Walls, Gally wiped the sweat off his forehead, done building Bark's house, and placing his bowls on the intended spot he made, right under (M/n)'s window, a small roof sticking off the side to work as cover. He liked it. Now he had to run to the barn to get Bark's bed.

And... Done!

He looked at Bark and petted his head, "That's your new home, boy," gently tapping his back, he watched how Bark slowly approached the house, sniffing it before recognizing the smell of his bed and he walked in, laying on it, his snout poking out the door.

Gally smiled and glanced at his watch, the Runners should be coming back soon...

Making his way to the Homestead he grabbed a few snacks that continued to lay around in the cabinets, on rare occasions anyone that wasn't a Runner ate them, since they were mostly kept for them to eat while in the Maze. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and began making his way to the doors, waiting for (M/n) again.

This time around, they came back right on time before the Doors closed, and Gally couldn't help but realize that the greenie looked exhausted, he was almost mad at Alby for making him run for such a long time, but that was the point of the Runner trials, to prove they could take the mental and physical exhaustion.

(M/n) turned to look at him the moment he entered the Glade, completely ignoring the food he had on his hands and leaning against his body, taking a deep breath as he closed his eyes, Gally's proximity and body heat was pretty much all he needed to fall asleep standing, he felt safe after being on edge the whole time he was at the Blades, feeling observed even on their way back, and now he was much better.

Gally didn't push (M/n) away, he simply wrapped his arm around his middle and took him to the Homestead, heading to the dining area while they waited for dinner to be ready.

Fry had noticed the greenie's state, so he got his plate ready first along with Gally's, and told Carl to take the tray to them.

With (M/n) barely being able to keep his eyes open, he ended up getting Gally to feed him, not that the Keeper really minded, everyone knew better than to make fun of him in his presence, and well, the sight was rather cute, he couldn't let this opportunity pass.

Even as cute as (M/n) looked falling asleep every few seconds, Gally wasn't gonna let him walk back to his treehouse in the dark, on his own, otherwise he was probably gonna trip and end up sleeping on the dirt, so he took (M/n) there, catching his attention to make sure he would raise the ladder before heading inside, telling him to close the door.

A sleepy (M/n) smiled at him from his elevated spot, leaning on the doorframe, "Thank you, Gally..." His voice was rumbly and deep, clearly tired after the day he had, and Gally felt a shiver run down his spine, one that he couldn't nor wanted to blame on the cold breeze around him, whistling in the leaves of the trees.

He smiled back, his face warming up as he nodded.

"Good night, (M/n)."

//////

His hands were holding someone's face in the dark, the breaths mixing as their foreheads pressed together.

"We're gonna be together soon, okay? I promise," whoever he was holding nodded in response, feeling their hands moving his hair back.

"I trust you, (M/n)."

The scenery changed after those words, and now he was in the same security room from before, screens in front of him showing him images of the Glade.

His eyes stared at everyone running toward the Box, opening it, and helping the new guy get out, his ears picking up on the conversation they were having.

"Where am I?! Why can't I remember anything?!" He frowned at the words he heard, and he turned to stare at a blonde woman.

"We... We had a deal! We weren't supposed to erase his memories!" The woman never looked at him, and he got angry, launching himself at her, but being stopped by two men holding him back, "We had a deal, Ava!"

With a jolt, he woke up.

(M/n) sat up on his bed and held his pounding head in his hands. What were these dreams he kept having? Were they just nonsense?

Or were those his memories before being sent to the Glade?

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