#he just wants to win verbal sparring

[urmumsstuff]

So if yall want to know the origin of the this is why your single joke here it is

Flower wasn't really known for her temper, ironicly that went to the middle child who taught all his siblings, young and old new ways to apply curse words and put sailers to shame. Her mother often made said brother go pray after a slew of curses that would come forth.

So it honestly wasn't a surprise when flower tripped over a rock and ping pong balled down a hill in a series of unfortunate events that when she reached the bottom of said hill all they heard was the following.

"FUCK YOU, YOU MOTHER FUCKER, THAT HURT YOU RICH DICKED MORNING WOOD MUNCHER. EAT CARPET YOU FUCKING DICK. OH FUCKING SHIT THAT HURT! I HOPE THAT ROCK BECOMES SAND IN THE ASS CRACK OF A FUCKING GREASY FAT KAREN WHO DROOLS OVER HER COWARD HUSBAND. THAT FUCKING COW FUCKER"

It didn't have as much impact nor creativity and if said middle brother had heard it he would be disappointed giving her a 4 out of 10 but he wasn't there and therefore could not judge her.

The group reached the bottom of the hill to see her laying on her front in frustrated silence

"Do you need help?" The monk asked hesitantly

"No let me lay upon the bed of LIES I have fallen upon" okay there showed true to her twin but also the shame that radiated off of her.

"You look stupid"

"You have a face that is so ugly not even a mother could love you if she bore you from her flesh" wukong barked a laugh at the insult tossed his way.

"I see she agrees that you are ugly brother monkey-"

That got her up on her ass sitting and staring and fully interrupting the pig "you have no room to speak or open your mouth you dog welped, boarish whore. Your mother would deny she bore you into this world and the urge to force you to eat pork grows stronger with every step I take in your presence. You should not throw stones from glass houses you weak willed unsatisfying lazy pig. May your mother and mothers mother deny you from their family tree"

her eyes narrowing into dangerous degrees as she stared down the pig who looked rightly enraged to be told such a thing. She had the gull to bring ancestors into the conversation with a calm that wasn't like her words. Her words spoke rage of unknown degree but her voice was a deadly calm.

What followed was a fight a loud fight at that both cursing and insulting the threat of fists being thrown ever.

"You bare the mind of a half wit not worth the air he takes from the world"

"This is why no man, human demon nor Divine would look upon you in favor"

"Good I like being single, unlike you who can't seem to understand some girls would lay with you if you improved your heart and acted more in the interests of the mind and emotion then that of the flesh" that got her to pause for a moment

"Wait.. did we just make a this is why your single agruement out of the blue?"

The pig stopped to think the others watching with mixed reactions

"I do believe it has reached that point yes"

"Do you want to just say this is why your single instead of insulting each other to such degrees and agree we dislike each other?"

It was an olive branch of peace that the monk clearly wanted to be broached between the pair both having insulted the others ancestors to various degrees and other retorts.

"Do you want this swept under the rug"

"By the nine hells no I am giving some of your insults to my elder brother to add to his arsenal of things to spew forth for no reason"

"..."

There was silence again

"This is why you are single"

"Indeed it is, forever alone I am in my bed with only my own heart to keep me company"

"That is painfully saddening"

"No, that's your love life, I am content with how I am"

They talked more defusing themselves to a decent degree and making a contract or agreement of sorts to keep insults within a specified degree. Leaving them all wondering how it had gotten to that point

[whoppert]

Hands on the Ground! (König/Reader)

2,652 words

tagged: König protective stalker; non-con groping of MC by villain

AO3 Master Fic List

The new recruit has caught König’s eye. He's seen a lot, but this is new. He doesn't want to complicate her life, no, he will just watch her from the shadows.

It's just a crush. An obsessive crush. An addictive and feverish and all-consuming crush. Nothing more.

But when she has a problem, König takes it upon himself to find a solution.

König passes by the new recruits in the training area. It’s not often he particularly notices a recruit - sure, he’s incredibly observant. He’ll notice a change in breathing in an opponent in a fight, a slight change in the walking gait of a teammate when they’re hiding an injury, but rarely does someone actually make an impression on him.

He checks with the training leader and learns her surname. The leader says she has promise, and asks if König wants to meet her, but the king declines. No, he’ll just watch from afar.

That night he steals her personnel file. Just some light reading, a bedtime story. This is where he gets a full name, address and next-of-kin, her brother. A dishonorable discharge from a foreign militia is on her record, but there’s no explanation.

AO3

It wasn't a concern, KorTac had a high turnover in the lower ranks, so administration often ignored marks on people’s records when it came to new hires. From her records, König learns that she speaks four languages fluently, that she has pilot experience and the area she struggles in is sniper shooting.

König thought about her as he drifted off to sleep.

A few weeks pass.

He keeps to his internal promise to watch from afar, but that doesn’t stop him taking the long route to get around the base, just so he’ll have a chance to watch. She’s really something in combat and wins both of the hand-to-hand training sessions that König manages to watch casually as he strolls by. He can read the tension in the male recruits. She’s the only female who manages to win in a mixed-sex fight and it wounds their egos.

Good, König thinks to himself. He knows how men fight and the angrier they get, the easier they are to defeat if you can read the signs, which she seems to be able to, because she taunts them as she fights them, a verbal dressing down for their shitty behavior and arrogance, respectively.

Occasionally he’d see her in the mess hall when their schedules overlapped. She sits with two other female recruits, and smiles at them warmly, the group seemed to have an affinity to each other that usually signifies friendship. She isn’t shy about getting what she needs to fuel her body, she’s smart in that way.

The next training session König watched entirely from the shadows. She wrestles well, though she doesn’t have the strength or size of her opponent so she is quick to recover from his grapple. She’s very quick. This opponent, a man with a dark cropped haircut is much better than her previous sparring partners. The rest of the recruits don’t talk through this fight like they did during the turns of the other pairs. No, this fight seems to be significant for all of them as a group. Her legs are strong, and she kicks her opponent just over his center of balance, sending him stumbling backwards.

In the second she took to right herself, her gaze flicked over and settled where König was watching, leaning against the edge of a nearby building, arms crossed over his chest. Bright eyes bore into his, the only visible part of his face. Today was another day he was glad to have his mask, the surprised expression rendered invisible to the outside world. It is only one second at most, but her opponent spots it.

The battle is quickly concluded, and her streak is lost.

König is gone before she’s even hauled herself up from the dirt.

Some nights later, König checked the schedule and found that she had booked a time at the sniping range to practice and that only one other soldier had booked an overlapping session. König made sure he was called for guard duty.

This is how he would make up for costing her the match.

The sky is grey and dull. He watches as she fires several shots, observing her form and then steps up to the neighboring practice spot. They do not acknowledge each other. She is too busy practicing to notice. She is by no means bad at it, just struggles with moving targets, which is costing her attempts. König is proud of his marksmanship, and knows that if he had that rifle he would have put down each of the targets in half as many bullets.

After another round she looks up at König from her seat, pulling her ear muffs off. He is sitting too, but even so she has to look up at him - everyone has to look up at him.

“You jerk as the gun fires,” he says. “You need to square your shoulders in order to support the weight of the rifle.”

She blinks, and considers his critique. Pressing the start button for the next round of moving targets, she hits every single one, only missing one shot. She rubs her shoulder.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

There is a pause.

“You’re the Colonel. König.”

“Yes. And you are?”

She gives him her name, though he already knows it.

“Good luck with your training, Lieutenant.”

König is called for a mission that will send him away for two weeks. Normally he welcomes the change of pace, but he mourns watching her each day. She is always in the back of his mind, and often in the front of it. He just can't stop himself from thinking about her.

When he returns, everything is the same on the surface, but she's different. Tense. König wonders what changed.

When he catches her sparring, there is a brutal ferocity to her movements, until she faces the only recruit who has ever bested her. König watches as she seizes up. The dark haired recruit easily takes her down, and his friends jeer. Perhaps it is a mental block?

A few days later, König collides with her - literally. He's making his way to visit a colleague when she comes out of a door, looking behind her, and smashing squarely into his chest. Strong hands grip her upper arms, so she narrowly avoids toppling over backwards. She's flushed, flustered.

"Forgive me," she stutters, glancing over her shoulder.

His hands don't leave her sides. For a second he short circuits. She feels so small compared to his large form.

"Hey," an unfamiliar voice calls from a familiar face as the dark haired recruit flies through the door after her. He stops suddenly, saluting. "Sir."

She seems to notice the breach of conduct and steps back quickly. König lets his hands fall to his sides.

"Is something wrong?" König asks, looking only at her.

“No. Sir,” she adds his title as an afterthought.

“Then you are dismissed.”

He didn’t believe her.

König had seen the growing tension between herself and this recruit. Naturally, he takes a look at the recruit’s personnel file as well. Adrian Meyer. No complaints. No formal military training, it seemed he’d been accepted to some relatively unknown private militia on a fluke. 24 years of age. Had left his previous employment voluntarily, but seemed to have made it into KorTac on the assurance that he was a quick study. It seemed true enough, his training showed exemplary marks - except in hand-to-hand. Always second place until recently. So he dislikes that she’s bested him, it creates tension, nothing particularly unusual, soldiers had troubles like this all the time. Still something doesn’t sit right with König. She had fought him a handful of times, and he’d studied her enough. She was always calm, collected, put together. Even first thing in the morning she’d report without a hint of exhaustion on her face. She could put on a show, hide her feelings as expertly as if she wore a mask, so what could have shaken her so badly the other day? Perhaps Meyer had said something to her, but what could he have said that left her so afraid?

There are hundreds of security cameras on a military base, with his clearance it was no issue at all to pull the footage. He isolated the record to about the rough time he’d run into her, and rewound from there. The video filled him with rage.

A few days pass and he watches the new recruits. She is shaken, making stupid mistakes and isolating herself from her friends. She eats lunch alone, practices alone and is easily defeated by opponents she had never so much as blinked at before. Meyer’s confidence grows each day, just continuing on as if nothing had happened.

König visits the trainees. She notices his approach, everyone else too deep in conversation, but as soon as she sees him, she turns her face away, refusing eye contact. He wants to tell her that he is going to fix this, but he doesn’t. König has said exactly forty words to her before, and he is not ready to add to the total.

“Meyer,” the training lead called out, König at his side. “The colonel is impressed with your training, he’d like a word.”

Meyer’s face split into a wide grin. “Knew it couldn’t be long before I started to get noticed.”

The pair step off to the side.

“Come visit me tonight in my office. 2100 hours. I want to discuss your future with KorTac.”

The smile falters momentarily. “Sir, I would love to, but I have guard duty-”

König interrupts, “I have arranged it. If you play your cards right, you’ll never have to pull guard duty again.”

Meyer is on time. He knocks on König’s office door at exactly 2100 hours. König invites him in, and at the sight of him Meyer stiffens.

“Relax,” König passes Meyer a drink. “This will be informal. I just want to get to know you a little better.”

König’s cheerful voice and the alcohol lulls Meyer into a false sense of security. The king is adept at this kind of hunt, he laughs on cue and flatters his prey with compliments, plying him with liquor, though Meyer doesn’t seem to notice that König has been nursing the same drink all night.

It’s growing late and still they talk. König knows the right time to strike is approaching because Meyer has started to talk absolute bullshit, too comfortable with the colonel.

“It’s just funny that you’re Austrian,” Meyer hiccups, swallowing the last of his glass.

“Why is that?” König makes sure the smile reaches his voice, since Meyer won’t see it.

“It’s just- to have an Austrian in charge of this place. Like shouldn’t you be running a farm or something?” Meyer laughs, and König pretends to laugh with him.

“You are a typical little Bavarian, aren’t you, Meyer?”

“I’m hardly little, I’m 190.5 centimeters!”

“You are little to me.” König replies.

The time is here.

König clears his voice. “Can I show you a video I found the other day? It’s hilarious.”

Meyer nods, pouring himself another glass.

König pulls up the security footage, pre-prepared and paused right before the crucial moment.

When Meyer notices, his eyebrows knit together. “Is this the security tape?”

König ignores him and hits ‘play’.

The shot is of one of the rooms used to take language lessons. It is completely empty until she enters. Moments later, Meyer follows her. He says something that causes her to freeze up, but unfortunately the feed is visual only. Meyer takes a step towards her and she takes a matching step back, her lips forming unheard words, her face pleading.

“What is this?” Meyer asks. He seems suddenly sober. “Why are you showing this to me?”

She faints right, breaks left, but it’s a move she frequents while sparring and he’s prepared for it, shoving her hard into the wall behind her. She struggles to regain her balance and throws a sloppy punch, which Meyer outmaneuvers, slapping her hard in the face and using the moment she is stunned to turn her around, pressing the front of her body against the wall as he presses himself against her back. One hand holds her by the back of her throat, her cheek against the plaster, the other runs down her body, groping the sides of her breasts and squeezing her ass before he kicks her legs apart and begins to touch between her legs. He is whispering something in her ear.

“It’s not what it looks-” Meyer stands abruptly.

“Sit down,” it is an order. All of the comradery König had exhibited early vanishes.

Meyer obeys.

Meyer is clumsy, too caught up in the moment. He releases her neck to step forward, sandwiching her body between his and the wall for maximum contact. He grinds his crotch against her, his lips close enough to kiss her neck, but she uses the second he is distracted and stamps down hard on the top of his foot. Immediately, Meyer staggers away, and she bolts. The camera shot switches into the hall as she bursts from the room, running straight into the Colonel.

The clip ends.

“Look,” Meyer pleads, “I know how that looks, but she came onto me, alright? You can’t hear her, but she wanted it. She’s been a tease for months, it’s not my fault is she panicked the second things got real, it-”

König does not care for excuses. “Left or right?”

The quest jars the recruit. “W-what?”

“I asked: ‘left or right?’”

“Right?” Meyer seems confused.

“Very well. Put your right hand on the ground.”

Meyer didn’t move. “Why?” There was panic in his voice now. He repeats the question when at first he doesn’t receive an answer.

“Because I am going to crush it beneath my boot.” There was a hint of sadistic pleasure apparent in the tone.

“Wh- no. No.” Meyer stuttered, cradling his hand to his chest. “You can’t do that.” Again he stands, but he does not back away, König stands between him and the exit.

“You touched her with both hands,” König said coldly. “It is by my mercy alone that your other hand has been spared. I have let you pick which hand you would like to keep, but you will be punished for touching her, Schwein. Do not disobey me. Put your right hand on the ground.”

“I didn’t know she was yours, I wouldn’t have ever-”

König steps towards him and this time it is Meyer shrinking back.

“Please,” he begs. “Please.”

But it is of no use. Meyer can see that. Face flushed and body shaking, he slowly kneels on the carpet, begging once more to no avail as he places his hand palm-first against the floor.

The next day, König walks past her like she was nothing to him. Like she didn’t consume every thought. He’d done what needed to be done and he had no regrets, but that didn’t mean he suddenly had a free pass to talk to her, she was his subordinate, that kind of fraternization would get him in trouble, and even if he got away with it, who’s to say she'd even want him? He could live in her shadow knowing that under his supervision she would befall no harm. He likes knowing that he took care of her little problem.

König watches her eating at the mess hall. Her friends rush to her, telling her something that he could not hear, though he could make out the excited tone they used.

“An accident?” She repeats.

“Yes, broke his hand. Doc showed me the x-ray, it was fucked. Crushed and twisted so badly he’ll be lucky if they can fit rods against the remaining bones. He’s resigned for long term medical care, but the doc said he’ll never shoot again.”

“What happened?”

“Apparently he fell in front of a Jeep and it ran his hand over.”

“That’s unlucky,” she says. For a brief moment she glances in König’s direction.

For an even briefer moment he holds her gaze, before excusing himself.

AO3

[leth-writes]

Aemond Targaryen x reader

Warning: This is 18+ due to discussions of sex

Let’s just say you’re betrothed. Doesn’t really matter what family you’re from.

Your first meeting is definitely awkward. He’s coId and calculating, more focused on the sense of power that the marriage will bring.

Part of this is definitely insecurity due to his appearance. He’s convinced he’s absolutely unattractive, and he deals with that feeling through pushing everyone else away. He’s easy to anger, and might antagonize your family just to get away with it

After the wedding, you spend some time alone, just getting to know each other, on the wishes of Alicent.

It’s tough at first; he has a way of talking that can set you off. You get into a lot of fights, and that feisty personality really forces him to back down; having someone genuinely challenge him, not physically but verbally, boosts his level of respect for you immensely.

Don’t let him talk down to you; call him out on anything he says that’s rude

“Wow, did it take you all day to come up with that line?” just a little sarcastic one-liner will completely disarm him. He isn’t used to people outside of his family standing up to him.

Seeing you hold your own against him really starts to get him enamored with you. He really admires that quick, cool wit and how well you’re able to keep that calm demeanor

He would quickly start to fall for either a really fiery partner, or one who’s got that calm, take-no-shit demeanor

Eventually, what really makes him fall in love is the way you deal with his eye. Not being scared or disgusted by it will really help him get closer to you. It’s his biggest sense of insecurity. It’s best if you either have no strong reaction, finding the scar not a big deal, or if you tell him how beautiful you find the violet hue of his eye.

It’ll bolster his confidence, especially if you tell him how hot you find the scar and his eye, and he might even start leaving the eyepatch off for longer periods of time when the two of you are alone

Loves reading to you, your head cuddled in his lap and staring up at him lovingly.

He lives for those quiet moments where he doesn’t have to be some big, intimidating force, and he can just be.

As his wife, you get a lot of questions. About his eye, about his personality, everything.

He’s fiercely protective. He doesn’t want you to realize how much better you are than him, so he protects you from the harsh realities of court life.

Loves showing off. Please compliment him on his swordwork

He’ll show you some moves in private, easily disarming and pinning you. You can surprise him and win the sparring match by kissing him. The surprise will shock him so bad he’ll forget what he’s doing and you can defeat him 🙂

He LOVES you

Oh my god he thinks you’re incredible. He thinks you’re way out of his league, and he often finds his breath taken away by your beauty and grace.

You’ve absolutely revolutionized the way he views love. He had always viewed relationships as largely transactional; as a way to get what he wants and secure his position and his legacy

You make him believe in unselfish, kind love.

NSFW

Aemond loves giving oral. It’s probably the thing he spends the most time on throughout your time together

Loves eating you out, if you’re interested.

Really sensitive. The eye tends to put people off, so he doesn’t actually have all that much experience. He tries to make up for it through working hard to get you off as many times as possible

Genuinely tends to accidentally overstimulate you. Push his head away if you need a breather, or even better, guide him by his hair.

If you’re the dominant partner, take your time. He’s sensitive from not having much experience.

If he starts getting cocky, pull his hair. Gently or hard, whatever your preference. He’ll surprise himself with the strength of the groan he release, vibrating through his chest like thunder.

Going down on him but not letting him cum is probably the best way to get him thrashing and begging.

Even when he does beg, it’s very lowkey. He makes it seem like it’s for your own good.

“Aren’t you tired of that, little dove? Wouldn’t you prefer to sit on my cock?”

(forgive me for that line)

Speaking of his cock, it’s lean and smooth with a nice curve, though it’s just slightly over average. Still, it hits all those spots just right, and it’s not too hard to fit in your mouth, especially if you use him as practice to train out his gag reflex 🙂

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Masterlist

Hi! This is so I don't lose track of my fics so far. I thank you all for your kind reviews and reblogs, they make my day. Main is blueredwrites. Feel free to drop your thoughts be it in the form of asks, replies or reblogs. 😉

REQUESTS NOW OPEN! SEE THE RULES HERE

What am I working on?

✨️ Indicates smut.

🪆 Indicates possibly triggering.

🍂 Indicates angst.

🧸 Fluff.

House of the Dragon

Alicent Hightower

Oneshots

Crime and Punishment ✨️🪆

The Queen and you get along wonderfully. After all, the strongest friendships are based on shared interests.

Speak now

Alicent is not too sure of how she feels about you. Or about the fact you just proposed to run away. But she is sure about how she feels about the wedding. 

Harwin Strong

Oneshots

Win some, lose some✨️

Harwin and his wife have a disagreement over communication skills. The end result is exactly as the title says.

Lemon cake ✨️

Harwin’s wife is a tough crowd.

Aegon Targaryen

Oneshots

Daedalus

On the eve of Aegon’s coronation, both of you disappear. Your mother imagines a thousand scenarios. But were you really abducted by him or is it a simple coincidence?

Aemond Targaryen

Mini series

Death in four moves 🪆

Aemond and his new partner explore trusting again after SA.

Death in four moves 🧸

Whatever souls are made of 🍂🧸

MAD

Caught in the crossfire of your familiy's ploys, you never expected to catch the eye of the enemy.

Threads of fate

Muña✨️

In which you find yourself caught in a deadly game of tug of war between two dragons. Daemon, your husband, and Aemond, the man who promises to make you a widow.

Oneshots

Last man on earth ✨️

No one told King Aemond about the Song of Ice and Fire. As the daughter of Rhaenyra, you have one last mission left.

Categorical✨️

Aemond needs to blow off some steam, so you offer to verbally spar with him. 

Last word ✨️

Aemond instructs you on the importance of protecting your virtue.

Push and pull ✨️

You just love riling him up. Especially on his name day.

Bouquet of Violets 🧸🍂

You are happy in your marriage, even if your husband can be quite hellish. It all starts to go wrong when a secret admirer shows up.

The Seamstress ✨️

Prince Aemond is your favorite client.

We light the way

House Hightower does not have dragons, but they have a magic of their own.

No masters or kings🪆

Aemond has issues around sex. The thought of being married to you, an angel, it's not helping.

Unforgivable

Aemond and you are tired of being pawns. Instead of chess, you decide to play draughts.

Young Gods 🪆

History has a way of repeating itself. Ft. Hades! Aemond.

A Challenge

In which you are in a search for identity, and Aemond is in search for a way to prove his superiority to your father. Somehow, both of you find each other.

Daemon Targaryen

Oneshots

Honesty✨️

Daemon seduces his unwilling Lady Wife.

Mirror

Courting. Daemon's version.

Capital

You think you married the plainest woman on earth, and you look away for one second and suddenly she is not. Typical. At least, for Daemon.

A Thousand Words ✨️

You want to marry him. He wants to fuck you. The two things are not as incompatible as they sound. 

Violent delights 🪆

As a dornish princess, you live by one saying. All is fair in love and war. When Prince Daemon stumbles into your life, you start to reconsider your stance.

Lookalike

Inside the highest tower of the Red Keep, lives a girl with long silver hair...

Bestiary ✨️

Your husband and you do not speak the same language. During your wedding night, you find out that High Valyrian and the Common Tongue pale when compared to the way your bodies allow you to communicate.

Vūjigon ✨️

Companion piece to Bestiary. Daemon has been having sex without love his whole life. It's easy. Marriage should be more of the same, right?

The dragon has three heads ✨️

It's Viserys first day as a King. You and your twin see him off.

You wouldn't believe the things I have done for her ✨️

Daemon lives a dangerous life. You wish you could find a way to protect him, but you are too afraid of guns. Lucky you, Daemon has a plan.

Gold rush ✨️

Your whole life you have been Daemon’s voice of reason. Tonight, you choose to be the impulsive one. 

To conquer

Incest is common amongst Targaryens, Daemon assures you. Unfortunately, Alicent got to you first.

The girl with the pearl necklace ✨️

You marry Daemon to secure an alliance. But surprisingly, you find a haven in him.

Two ships

Two people who do not understand each other, but keep coming back together. Familiar much? It’s the tale you share with your brother, Daemon.

Clad in sea

It is not Harrenhal, what drives Daemon to the Gods Eye. It’s the memories of you and your daughter.

Miniseries

Little lamb✨️

After the death of Viserys Targaryen, CEO of Targaryen industries, his heirs get into a legal battle over the validity of the will. It's a terrible time to start fucking your sister's brother in law. So of course, you do just that.

Divine intuition ✨️🪆

My take on modern reader meets Daemon

Threads of Fate

Pyrite✨️

A nefarious plot to place Princess Rhaenys on the Iron Throne leaves you, a handmaid, as the sole witnesses. Deciding to save an innocent life, you find yourself an unlikely protector. But Prince Daemon does not make favors lightly.

Helaena Targaryen

Golden Chains✨️

Helaena isn't yours, but you are always hers

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Oneshots

Baby teeth

Cousins. You love them or you hate them. And Rhaenyra knows exactly how she feels about you.

Three-headed dragon ✨️

Three times Rhaenyra marked you, and one time you did too. Or snippets of the love story I so wanted to tell but didn’t feel confident enough to write.

Doom of Ghis✨️

You decide to trick a Queen. It doesn't go quite according to plan.

Threads of Fate

Viserys Targaryen (Yuck)

The dragon has three heads ✨️

It's Viserys first day as a King. You and your twin see him off.

Useful writing things - Episodes.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

[luimagines]

it didn't answer my question but it was delightful to read nonetheless!!!!!

i meant like.. yk how you mentioned that the chain would doubt human reader more bcs theyre human?? then you said a situation when reader would save sky and sky would be like "nope readers got this fym they dont??" like what situations would happen with the others to make them also be like "nvm readers got this"?

(hopefully this makes sense HELP)

-person who asked about the human reader scenario thing

I've had to think about this for a while so I'm that this took me so long to answer. ^.^*

Twilight: Given that he has no problems with humans, Reader's problem would just winning him over as a person. He finds that he adore them just as much when he first introduces Wolfie to them. They gasped and instantly started complimenting and petting him, much to the horror of everyone else. They couldn't resist giving him kisses and telling what a good boy he was- not recognizing him a wolf. Twilight figures that if Reader likes animals, they're not all that bad.

Sky: His opinion was already mentioned when they got separated from the group and he hurt his ankle, unable to move on. Reader picked him up and carried him on his back until they were able to meet up with the group again. Their stamina and determination impressed him. From there he disregarded the other comments and assumptions about Reader, coming to their aid when they needed him to.

Wind: Being in the middle, Wind didn't really have much of an opinion. Not to mention that his age leaves him more vulnerable to going with the crowd and what the majority says. But there's a moment where his age also leaves him vulnerable as any small boy would. Reader finds him rubbing away the tears when the adventure become too much and lets him cry on their shoulder. They don't make a big deal out of it and help to hide the fact that he broke down from the other heroes. Wind's ego was bruised at being caught, but he's glad that Reader took his pride into account, knowing how much he wanted the other boys to view him as a equal. He'll remember that.

Wild: Reader was willing to eat anything Wild threw their way. they weren't picky and even willing to help make new recipes for Wild to make. They cooked together, sharing stories around the cauldron and laughing about how similar they were, even if they were still so different. Wild doesn't know/remember he's part human, but he knows he's different. Reader was always different so Wild doesn't think they'll see him as anything other than himself- and when they manage to choke down the dubious food he playfully tossed their way. He realized that was an invitation for the biggest prank war of the century. This'll be fun.

Legend: This boy near the end is just petty. At first Reader would meet his sass tit for tat. But after a particularly difficult day, Legend tries to get into the verbal sparring before Reader frustratedly tears up, hands clenched into fists and shaking from the restraint they hold over themselves. They yell at Legend, calling him out on his crap and saying that they're sick of his attitude and they don't understand what they did for him to fight them so much. It occurs to Legend that they were not on the same page after all and the verbal sparring was actually Reader attempting to defend themselves against his barrage of attitude. Reader takes off and Legend gives them time to cool down. He feels bad. He's self conscious enough to realize that he's the one at fault here.

Four: I think he's the simplest to be won over. Obviously, Reader has questions about the weapons he'd make in the forge. Even is Reader doesn't necessarily have the knowledge to meet him toe to toe in blacksmithing, they'd no doubt knowing someone who does. They mention techniques and Four was able to go on and on about his love and his passion with someone who actually listened. It doesn't seem like much to Reader but that sort of connection rewired something in Four's brain. Four may have grown up surrounded by bias but he's the fastest to simplify that Reader, at least, isn't defined but what others have told him.

Warrior: Is always watching them like a hawk. If they're up to something he's going to be the first to know. Because of this long time observation sting operation thing he sees all the little things that Reader does when they think no one is looking. Little by little his bias and hate his chipped away and before he knows it, when Reader is threatened, he's sprinting to come to their aid- worry gnawing at his bones on the off chance he doesn't get there in time. It's only after Reader is tended to and no long in any danger that he realizes the implications of his actions. He wants to hold on to what he thought he knew... but he finds that the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that Reader had already proven a lot of the rumors wrong. He owes them an apology.

Hyrule: As one the least trusting of the group, he would have spent a lot of time avoiding Reader just on principle. But then he gets a bad hit. Sliced right across his abdomen. He's bleeding out. There's a lot of blood loss. He's worried about the curse. The monsters. Hyrule. Reader is suddenly above him, pinning him down, refusing the very concept of him losing more blood. They're covered in the crimson liquid quickly. Despite not able to feel or use magic, they patch him up. They stich him together again. Through sheer force of will they refuse to let him die. They don't take advantage of his weakness. They don't use his blood for anything he would have thought they would. He passes out with his life in their hands and a debt to pay.

Time: Is skeptical of new people as a rule. But he never really believed the rumors of humans anyway. He just never had a personal experience with them and he knew better after everything he's gone through to make that call without have first hand information. There was a moment where they were about to check in to an inn but Reader was denied access. To avoid a fight, they stayed with Epona in the stables for the night. Time was furious with the concept. The next day, after herding them away from the others he asks why they didn't fight back. Why didn't they stand up for themselves? Reader explains that's just how it is between Hylians and humans. They don't expect anything glamorous when dealing with them. They say that being the bigger person comes at a price but they're not willing to sacrifice their head for the sake of someone who doesn't know them and will never see them again. Time isn't happy with this answer. It's not right. And isn't it a hero's job to fix what's wrong?

[jamtoro]

Just a drabble in large part inspired by the first Challengers fic I read by @cybersunnie Content warning for masturbation but this is mostly just mutual pining

- Of course you knew who Art Donaldson was, because, really, who didn't? So why wouldn't you be surprised when he approached you, offering to be your hitting partner for the night?

- You hesitated on your response, a mixture of embarrassment (you were practicing for a mandatory athletics class and were far from being even decent) and confusion (why would he ask you? What did he gain from it?).

- But, still, you agreed. Practicing tennis with Art, the Art Donaldson, was not an opportunity afforded to many beginners (at least you imagined). And despite the preemptive embarrassment, it beat hitting a ball against a wall.

- So, you begin with a backhand warm up before advancing to a rally.

- You miss volleys left and right, and even fall on your ass at some point. But with the cool spring night breeze on your sweat-slick skin and a lack of the pressure you thought you'd feel when sparring with Art, that 10 AM lecture class you have tomorrow feels light years away.

- When you've both had enough (well, you're sick of running after missed balls and you feel bad for making Art watch you flounder) you thank him, trying not to fall into realm of gratuitous gratitude. "I know it's not what you're used to, and it felt like torture at times, but thank you. I had a lot of fun losing to you."

- "You're not terrible," Art says, looking at you. Really looking at you, a soft smile on his face. You open your mouth to protest, but he tilts his head back a certain way as if to say Are you really going to debate me on that? Me? And you avoid breaking into a gigantic grin, but your giddiness is evident.

- You felt drunk on luck. First he offers to be your partner for the night, then he complements you. Well, sort of, but it's enough to make your heart stammer in your chest.

- You'd be lying if you said Art didn't look beautiful under the florescent light of the tennis court, a light sweat above his brow. And the scent of his musk, it could grow addicting.

- and you'd be lying if you said Art wasn't the reason why you continued to practice tennis on late nights. Some nights you saw him practicing with someone, sometimes he was alone, sometimes he showed up after you, but most nights you practiced alone. But lighting can strike twice, you told yourself.

- It took until the night of your last final, but thankfully eventually Art approached you.

- "Most people leave as soon as their last final's over, but you're still here," He says. "Summer classes," is all you manage in return. You force a barely there smile with pressed lips. You're wrought with tension.

- "There's a two week bre--" "Can you teach me tennis?" You cut Art off, the words basically stumbling out of your mouth. "I can pay you whatever, and I won't whine, and I know you have your own practices, but I just want you. I want to play tennis with you."

- It's bold and you know you're asking for a lot. You hold your breath as you wait for an answer.

- Art pauses in consideration, turning your words over in his mind. And your heart twists like a wrung towel as you watch a faint smile tug on one side of his mouth. "If you can win against me, I'll coach you."

- Your mind goes into hyperdrive with inquiries. Why would he say that? Does he really believe I could beat him? What happens when I lose? Does he have to be this cruel? Am I too desperate? Is it obvious? And before you could even begin to verbalize such a question, you see Art setting down his tennis bags on the far end of the court.

- "Are you gonna go easy on me?" You yell from the other side as you stretch your upper body.

- "How could I assess your abilities as your coach without seeing how far you'll go?" Art asks when he finishes a set of side lunges.

- yeah, you're gonna lose.

- And at least it's not a humiliating loss. You've definitely improved since the first time you and Art played, even managing a point here and there (but deep down you feel like Art let you have those). And even though you've lost two of three games, you're laughing, you're joking, you're having fun. Even though you approached Art so seriously, so desperately, you can't take yourself seriously, not in earnest, even when playing for something as coveted as a Summer with Art. And you can't even hate yourself for it because you feel so free.

- "I won't torture you with the idea of a rematch, so thank you for playing with me." You say, hand extended as you walk towards the net. "I'll still see you around, right?"

- But Art doesn't respond when he shakes your hand. He kind of just stands there for a moment, shaking your hand in a trance.

- Within Art, something shifted, or clicked, rather.

- No stranger to desperation, he recognized it in you, saw himself reflected in your curious eyes. And though he expected himself to be more repulsed by your desperation, each volley blunted the edges of such an emotion.

- And it helped he saw what Tashi loved about tennis within you.

- Maybe you could've been great if you had more than a casual interest in the sport, or if you had started in the single digits like the rest of the college athletes, or if you stopped blowing rasberies and laughing everytime you hit the ball into the net. But you didn't care about greatness. And to Art, it almost seemed like you didn't care about winning him as a coach, not for lack of trying, but because you became someone else on the court. You found a liberation that Art could only dream of. A liberation that could only be afforded to someone who's highest aspiration is the intermural leagues. Your relationship with tennis, with your opponent was more self-serving. This was less of a relationship and more so voyeurism.

- And that appealed to Art in some capacity.

- "I mean, you played pretty well, considering," Art finally says, returning to himself. "Do Tuesdays work for you?"

- It scratches an itch to be wanted. Even if it isn't by the person you want.

- Art reminded himself of this, like a mantra, on the first night he cums to the thought of you. A late night tennis session turned mildly risqué with an absent minded question ("Do you think some people use rackets sexually?" You asked before the stream of laugh that followed due to Art's flusted expression) was all Art really needed to follow through on what was a burgeoning feeling.

- On one hand, Art struggled to remember why he's keeping himself from you. He's already this close. You never shy from his touch when he corrects your grip on the racket. You don't seem to mind sharing towels or water. And he feels the way you watch him, even when his back is turned.

- On the other, he's kicking himself. Even though he's only your senior by a year and he's not an official coach by any standard, it feels wrong. Especially when he's the catalyst in Tashi and Patrick's teetering relationship. You were meant to be a scapegoat if Patrick and Tashi got messy and Art's culpiblity was revealed. You were not supposed to stay.

- But being wanted is like a drug. And the thought of your mouth on his, along his body, around him, is irresistible.

- He knew, as he watched his cum thin out and disperse in the shower stream, that this wouldn't be the only time he came to the thought of you.

- (Should he feel ashamed that he's wrapped around your finger, too, even though you're the one who wants him so obviously?)

- Art leaves the locker room without looking in the mirror.

[mins-fins]

bring it back

&&. you tell donghyuck all the time, but his fists are always so bruised he doesn't listen.

pairing: lee donghyuck x m!reader

genre: weird rejected hybrid thing

warnings: literally fighting, is this relationship safe? idk!!

word count: 1.3k

notes: this spawned while i was reading one of my old old things back from my wp era and i suddenly got inspired.. only reason i chose hyuck is bc hes the first member who came to mind when i thought about writing 😣 im also a little obsessed with him atm.. i sort of left you all with radio silence yesterday, was supposed to post a timestamp but didn't, my apologies isanator nation (like 2 ppl) anw! don't take this too seriously, i don't get into fights and don't know much about fighting, my google search history looks very concerning rn ☺️

"come on! is that really all you got? those hits were weak".

donghyuck sits up defeated, but he doesn't allow for such an expression to cross his face, the last thing he wants to do is look like a sore loser in front of you, though he clearly is with how he got knocked to the ground by a single punch.

he refuses to think about the fact.

you raise an eyebrow at the sight of him catching his breath on the floor, a taunting chuckle leaves your lips, a chuckle donghyuck narrows his eyes at. if you knew sparring meant you'd have to meet donghyuck's piercing glare more than once in the span of five minutes, you would've offered to be his sparring partner much earlier.

you think he looks adorable when he's mad.

"done verbally berating me now?"

"not sure i'll ever be done".

you extend your hand forward, and donghyuck takes it instantly. once you help him to his feet, he gives you a pout, one you press your finger to. "what the hell are you pouting about?" you inquire, and donghyuck's eyes roll.

"you beat me like— five times, y/n".

you scoff lightly, shoving your boyfriends shoulder. "and i'll continue beating you if you don't stop hesitating before every hit" you lean closer to press a kiss to his lips, trying to erase the pout with an act of affection, but he stays pouting.

you snicker as you pinch his cheek, turning on your heel and walking towards your duffel bag on the other side of the room. what can you say? throwing your boyfriend around the room makes a guy thirsty.

donghyuck stares at you for a moment, studying your figure, then groans. "y/n".

"hm?"

you turn back to look over at him, and donghyuck has to stifle his laugh. how is it that you look so harmless right now when you just spent up to almost an hour breaking every bone in his body? he finds it hilarious how quick you can switch tunes. "one more round".

shock gleams in your eyes. "you sure? i thought you were tired.."

donghyuck is quick to shake his head, suddenly filled with an abrupt surge of determination. "yeah, this'll be the last one".

you blink, but you don't seem to mind, because you shrug, dropping your bottle of water and beginning to stretch your arms. "i'm starting to think you like being thrown around, should i note this down as a kink of yours?"

your smile is tormenting,

the good kind though.

"do whatever you want y/n~" donghyuck muses, a sing songy tone of voice accompanying his words. you study his body language for a while, cracking your knuckles. "i'm not letting you win again".

"ah really? you think you're gonna beat me this time?"

"wanna bet?"

you seem to like the sound of that, if the way your eyes light up is any indication. donghyuck's got you, perfect. you scour your mind for ideas, tilting your head as you smile at your boyfriend. "fine then, if you manage to knock me to the ground i'm all yours next week".

donghyuck's eyes widen to a comically huge size. "you serious?"

"slow your roll, baby, i said if you manage to knock me to the ground".

donghyuck clicks his tongue, an acception of the bet you put down. "don't underestimate me so quickly".

"underestimating? i'm just saying what's true, how many times did the sim kid knock you out last week? ten? fifteen? if i didn't know any better, i would've assumed you were weak".

god you're so skilled at this, you know exactly how to hit donghyuck where it hurts, both literally and figuratively. you know exactly what to say, and know exactly how they'll affect him. trash talk is something your so good at, sometimes donghyuck forgets it's all an act.

you know donghyuck can fight better than he actually does, his attempts at punches right now are vastly different to the punches he throws during actual fights. you know he's much stronger than he thinks, but for some reason, he seems to.. soften around you.

it's cute in hindsight, but he's been slacking lately, and you have to get him back on track.

"weak huh?"

"yeah, you going easy on me?"

your posture is relaxed, you don't want to make the first move, your waiting for donghyuck to surge forward and try to hit you. he narrows his eyes, your feet tapping rhythmically onto the floor and your arms crossed. "not a chance".

you chuckle at donghyuck's statement, a chuckle that angers donghyuck. what the actual fuck are you being so cocky about? he wants to wipe that smirk off your face, no, scratch that, he wants to punch that smirk off your face, he's going to make you wish you never said anything.

without saying anything more, donghyuck surges forward, a move you weren't expecting, but one you knew how to deal with already. a right hook, simple, easy to dodge and easy to counteract.

"was that a punch? i bet renjun could throw a better one than that".

donghyuck grits his teeth.

"don't mention renjun".

"oh? am i striking a nerve?"

you are striking a nerve, and donghyuck is about to strike you in the face. he keeps throwing punches, a flurry of hooks left and right, he has to hit you, he will hit you.

you're completely unfazed, the hooks nothing you haven't seen before. you swing your right hand over to parry the hit donghyuck sends you, using your position to your advantage and delivering a punch to his side. it catches him off guard and he winces, reeling back in just the slightest.

you give him no time to adjust, taking his distraction into consideration and surging towards him, a left jab to the side of his stomach. he stumbles back, trying to gather himself as his head spins in dizziness from the hit you delivered.

you let out a small scoff. "come on, hyuck, you have to hit me".

donghyuck grunts, moving forward with a left hook this time. "i'm trying" he grits his teeth, an action that makes you smile. donghyuck gives a small tch at the sight of you smiling, he hates it (that's a lie, he loves it).

you don't even try to hit him back, just continue stepping backward as donghyuck sends hit after hit.

he narrows his eyes, but you just smile again, you're really starting to get annoying. it's then that donghyuck notices something, your legs, he can use that to an advantage of his.

so, without any prior warning, donghyuck punches your lower stomach, a punch you weren't expecting. when you reel back from the hit, he decides to take his chance. an uppercut, a right jab to your side, and a haymaker to the side of your face.

donghyuck doesn't know where all of that came from, but it seems to do the trick, because you have no more strength to continue fighting. you stumble for a moment before falling over, hitting the ground and rolling over as you clutch your stomach.

donghyuck immediately gasps as he sees your state. "holy shi— oh my god! are you okay!?"

you give a tired smile, sending a thumbs up to the air. "i'm alright, that was great, babe".

it's only then that it dawns on donghyuck. "i beat you".

you nod.

donghyuck breathes in and out, he truly can't believe this. "i beat you, holy shit i beat you!"

you chuckle at how excited he sounds, breathless from the blows he delivered to you. "yeah, you did, congrats champ".

donghyuck falls down beside you, flinging his arm over your stomach and moving closer to you. "i get to have you all to myself now".

you raise an eyebrow. "you've always had me all to yourself".

donghyuck giggles. "i know, but i knocked you to the ground this time".

"don't get used to it".

[divineerdrick]

Homestuck: Beyond Canon Up8 for July 25 (?) 2024

Well that was fast!

I have to admit I started seeing spoilers to this alerting me it was up first, but I was one of the people that got bit by the bug where it wasn't updating. But I switched browsers and it seems to be working now.

Though we don't have a time update, this is obviously wearing on Vriska. I wonder just how long she's been doing this for.

"i, wANT,,,, tO PLAY A GAME"

We could argue Vriska was already doing that. In fact from the way the proceedings have been described that's exactly what she's been doing. But of course, we know what game Tavros wants to play.

Wait . . . does Vriska not even know that much about Tavros? Like, I knew given the chance he'd want to play fiduspawn. Does she really understand him that poorly? Wow.

Huh! It looks like they actually FLARPed. I would have thought for sure Tavros would have wanted to play fiduspawn instead. Maybe he was worried Vriska would rag on him for it? He also could have chosen FLARP because he knows Vriska likes it.

Oh wow! Is she going to realize it? Winning was never the point! Tavros had fun this time! It's obvious that she was so worried about beating him and the "session" making her do everything again, that she pulled her punches enough for him to enjoy himself. He got to actually enjoy the game he was so excited about!

And can I say, it's always nice to see Tavros happy.

By accident, Vriska ran the game in a way they could both enjoy. They could both have fun! Will she realize that's why things are going well though?

She's not grasping it. As Sally "thewertsearch" realized in her ongoing liveblog, winning is life or death to Vriska. It's impossible to be fine with losing, let alone happy about it. That's been beaten into her so badly, is she even capable of realizing there's another way?

"That is quite possi8ly the gayest thing I have ever heard someone say, Nitram." Wow! Is she using gay as a slur? Been hanging around Dave too long!

Yep! We can blame Dave for that one!

Hah! You catch on fast, Nitram! And just like that, Tavros has turned it against her.

Yeah, she's not getting it. Yes, Alternia is stacked hard against Tavros. And he can't seem to do anything about it. And nothing Vriska did ever helped him. And if it weren't for SGRUB, he'd probably be dead. So what? He's just supposed to mope and be angry and miserable all the time? He's not allowed to find joy or pleasure in things? And as we saw, he does feel down and depressed a lot. But that doesn't mean he's always going to be that way, especially if he just did something he enjoys doing.

Wow! There's a deep cut. That was like all of one panel where it showed Tavros struggling with getting into his recuperacoon and mentioned how he always had trouble sleeping. I don't think it ever got brought up again before now.

Yeah, this Tavros may be pretty accurate, but he's apparently still a construct. Of what, I'm still not sure. But again, the machine holding The Plot Point was created by Caliope and Roxy. I mentioned how strong that could be previously. So Tavros can tell Vriska the point, and still be unaware of what any of it means.

"I think if a certain uppity human was here, she'd call it 'projecting.'"

She did spend a lot of time around Rose. Man. There's some real potential for verbal sparring that we missed with the Retcon's time skip.

The Rufioh comparison is actually pretty apt. The "Tavros" Vriska is expecting or demands doesn't exist. She's never thought of him as anything but another goal, another game to win.

Man, that probably would have helped Tavros quite a bit to know she's always been a mess. Vriska has never had the positive self image she projects. It would have likely been quite a relief for him to understand just how fake her bravado often was.

I think Vriska might be starting to realize Tavros is right. Not only is he right, but what he's suggesting might actually be what this "scenario" demands of her.

And now Tavros is ribbing her about playing a blue blood. I've always guessed that Vriska bought into the hemospectrum more than she let on. If only because so much of her world view was shaped by Alternia's demands.

Vriska's turning this around again. Potentially quite viciously. But Tavros isn't rejecting it completely either.

Bam! There it is! Now I'd note I still don't think she's fully listening to him, but she actually did try this time. And yeah, her realization is true. But then Alternia is a crazy place.

Fucking Aradiabot jumpscare!

That legitimately threw me! I was not expecting that! Also, more God Tier art! Look how absolutely menacing and ominous she is!

Well Vriska should know this place well, but she's probably more surprised than I am.

"m0re accurately this is the b0ss fight t0 drive the p0int home"

And she's one hell of a boss!

Vriska really did get everything she wanted when Aradia killed her, or at least what she thought she wanted.

This feels familiar of some other, Homestuck adjacent media.

"y0ure n0t here t0 be redeemed vriska y0ure here to gr0w up"

That's a double slap to the face! Also appropriate and needed.

Everything has to have a purpose, a justification. Every tool has a use and every person a role. Vriska cannot conceive of a world where anyone is enough. And because of that, she can't conceive of a world where she is enough. She has to be saving everyone's butts, even if they hate her for it, because that's why she's here. If she's not doing that, then there's no reason for anyone to care about her.

Somewhat reminiscent of a certain Narrator and his goals . . .

"light players define themselves by their direct acti0ns and understanding"

Yes! More information on aspects! Someone knows there's still a bunch of us lore and theory nerds around!

Fucking. God. TIER!

And now we're in the Quest Cocoon, sans a traumatized Tavros.

We never really got much of seeing Team Charge together and happy. I absolutely love it.

Hah! Look at that fucking echeladder! "DANTE 8ASCO'S INFERNO" XD

And that's the end of that part of the VN!

That was so fucking good! I'm so excited and spun up now! And I have to go to bed! Settlers of Kalguur starts tomorrow and I still haven't settled on a build!

But who cares! I'm loving this so much! I hope you're all enjoying this too!

[sokkigarden]

dancing with our hands tied (part ii)

jamie tartt x female reader // nsfw 18+ // enemies to lovers // fwb

masterlist // read on ao3

summary: the aftermath where some more impulse decisions are made

word count: 3.9k

once again shout out to bestie @whimsical-roasting for Understanding Jamie Tartt on a visceral level. i owe you everything !!! my muse fr and fav writing partner <333

༻✧✧✧༺

You barely paid attention to what happened during the match, but Laney squealed and gushed about some of the great plays, so you at least knew she had a good time. 

The entire match you found yourself staring off into space, your mind replaying the events of the last hour. His mouth hot along your neck. His hands holding you tight against him as he pounded into you. You would come back to yourself only to realize you were staring down at Jamie. He played really well; you could tell by his cocky attitude and high spirits whenever he cheered with his fellow teammates. 

You refused to unpack why you were thinking about him so much, or why he was playing particularly well today. It took every ounce of self restraint not to think about the moments preceding the match, but it was hard when you still felt the phantom grip of his fingers on your hips. The ache between your legs had yet to subside.

You walked back into the training facility with Laney, headed for the locker rooms since you promised your friend that she’d be able to meet everyone after the match.

You were not looking forward to inevitably running into Jamie.

Before the events of this afternoon, you had a dread when it came to interacting with him, knowing you had to be on the top of your comeback game. After the events of this afternoon, you wondered if you would ever be able to verbally spar with him again. Not after knowing how he feels. How he sounds when he’s coming undone.

You were irreversibly fucked.

Despite wanting to run in the opposite direction of the locker room, you walked in with your head held as high as you could muster. You saw Jamie right away, your eyes scanning quickly over his sweaty, fatigued form. Despite the muddy patches on his kit, he was glowing. A little part of you relished in the fact that he played so well after your impulsive hatesex. 

Getting the attention of the team, you introduced Laney to the boys. 

“She’s a big Richmond fan, so I wanted to give her a chance to say hello to you all,” you explained, nudging her to talk. 

She stumbled through a greeting with an air of partial shyness, but the boys were happy from their win, which broke the ice easily as she went around to chat with some of the players. You followed her around, taking a backseat to the conversation so she could enjoy her moment with the guys. Every bone in your body was telling you to look at Jamie.

But you refused to glance over in the direction of Jamie’s locker, even though you could feel his eyes burning a hole into the back of your head. 

When you finally chanced a look in his direction, he was staring directly at you, just as you suspected. You ended up tripping on air as you hastily looked away, clearly an aftershock from the events preceding the game. You hoped no one noticed your shaky legs causing you problems, but Sam spoke up jovially.

“Woah, jelly legs today, y/n?” he joked as he passed by. 

Your eyes involuntarily looked over at Jamie again, only to catch him smirking at the interaction. You clenched your teeth together, but told Sam that you were doing all right, just feeling clumsy.

After a couple more minutes, Laney bounded over to tell you she made plans to get drinks with some of the guys, and asked if you wanted to come along. While it all sounded fun and you always enjoyed going out for drinks with the players, you just wanted to head home and unpack everything that had happened today. When you told her you might just go home, she seemed sad but also not too sad to be going out with a bunch of fit footballers on her own. 

You headed back to the physio office to grab your stuff and finally took off the doomed Tartt jersey. As you packed your bag to go home, Zach, the new team nutritionist, walked in. 

You greeted him as you finished up, and he smiled over at you. 

“Hey, I saw you trip earlier, you okay?” he asked as he also collected his items to go home. “You headed out? Me too, let me walk you to your car.”

“Okay,” you smiled brightly at him.

Zach had only been working at the dog track since the beginning of the season, but he was friendly, fit, and it was always nice when there was a cute new guy to have a work crush on. You shared an office with a few of the other med staffers, so you often got lunch together and chatted with him frequently. Sometimes he flirted with you, and you were left wondering if he would ever ask you out.

You grabbed your bag and headed out of the office, with Zach closing the door behind you. You quietly chatted with him about the game as you walked through the facility.

As you turned the corner toward the exit, you almost ran right into Jamie, which had you once again tripping on air. Both Zach and Jamie reached out to catch you, but you righted yourself on your own. You couldn’t help your eyes going wide as you looked between the two of them, a nervous laugh escaping your lips.

Once you were standing tall again, your eyes met Jamie’s and it felt like he was trying to tell you a million things with his eyes. You couldn’t read any of it, but maybe you just didn’t want to. The intensity of his stare had you looking away to avoid dissecting your emotions in the middle of the Richmond FC hallways.

“So gravity’s not your friend today, huh?” Zach tried to lighten the mood.

You let out a flustered giggle as you shook your head, feeling shy about acting flirtatiously with Zach in front of a man you fucked not even a few hours ago. 

Jamie had a hardened gaze when you looked back at him. He rubbed at his chin, still standing in front of you and Zach. The awkwardness in the air was stifling. 

Suddenly, Jamie pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, and held it out to you. You hesitated before accepting it with a questioning look, and opened it to see an address scrawled across in scratchy uppercase letters. You crumpled the piece of paper into your fist and glared at him.

He looked at you innocently, so you smiled sweetly at Zach before yanking Jamie aside.

“What the fuck is this?” you whispered.

“Thought you might want it,” he said with a cheeky grin. Like he knew everything in the world. 

You glared at him. “Nothing’s happening again, I already told you that.”

“Sure, okay. When you come to your senses,” he took the piece of paper out of your hands and flattened it back out before placing it in your hand again. “You know where to find me.” 

Before you could say anything else, he left without so much as goodbye. You let out a humorless laugh at his behavior.

Zach walked over to you, suddenly reminding you that you weren’t alone. 

“What was that about?” he asked you.

“Don’t worry about it,” you replied. “Just Jamie being Jamie.” 

It was vague because you didn’t really know what to say, but Zach nodded like he understood. It was a bit quieter as you finished the walk to the car park, but it was early enough in the night that you sorta hoped Zach might ask you out for a bite to eat. 

Ask me out! you want to yell at him. Ask me out so I don’t go home and freak out about the fact that I had sex with the price prick of all pricks.

You felt guilty for even thinking of using him as a distraction, but sex with Jamie was also just a distraction from the truth. School and then work had taken up so much of your time; you hadn’t been in an actual relationship in years, just bouncing from one hook-up to the next. You were tired of it. You wanted to find your person. To have someone be there. To finally stop going on stupid dating apps and getting set up on blind dates. Zach was nice. Why couldn’t he just ask you out?

He didn’t. Clearly the interaction with Jamie ruined whatever vibe you had going on earlier, and Zach bid you goodbye, telling you he’d see you at work tomorrow. 

You got into your car feeling a bit bummed out. While you hadn’t been getting major signals from Zach, you still flirted a decent amount with each other and were hoping that maybe he’d finally ask you out. Were you not putting off the right vibes? 

You were halfway home, flipping through radio stations when you caught a glance at the piece of paper Jamie had given you. You pursed your lips, tapping your fingers against the steering wheel while you contemplated.

Inside, you fought a war with yourself. On one hand, it had been a while since you’d had sex, and now a fit footballer was offering himself up on a silver platter. On the other hand, Jamie would be so fucking smug if you showed up, and he was a fit footballer whose actions were unpredictable. Could your pride, and your emotions, take the hit?

You found your answer as you plugged the address into your navigation app and headed over to his place. You refused to think about the consequences, refused to have any thoughts in your head. 

The nerves didn’t hit you until you were standing on Jamie’s front steps, ringing the doorbell. Were you insane? The door opened not even a minute later.

“Look who decided to show up.” 

Despite his cocky words, his face told you he was in fact surprised that you decided to come over. His eyes are shiny in the night time light as they peered into your own.

You took a step through his doorway, ignoring your shaky hands. 

“I don’t wanna hear it,” you said, grabbing his face with both hands and bringing his lips to yours. 

He let out a near whimper when your lips touched. You hated how he made you feel like everything was falling into place. You heard the door shut behind you as he grabbed onto your waist, drawing you closer to him. 

It only took a few seconds before you both were panting and breathless against each other. You gripped his shirt, trying to bring him impossibly closer, while his hands roamed your torso, sliding beneath your shirt. 

You were the first to slide your tongue into the other’s mouth, earning a surprised little ‘mhmp!’ from Jamie. But he was quick to recover, sucking on yours as his fingers rubbed circles against your sides where your shirt had ridden up. 

It’s like your hands had a mind of their own, traveling up over his shirt to his sculpted shoulders and down his arms to squeeze his bicep. You reveled in the way he flexed under you, so reactive to your touch. Further pressing yourself against him, you brought your arms to settle around his neck, nails lightly scratching his nape.

Jamie groaned as you slid your hands through his hair, tugging at the strands. He slowly started moving backward toward the staircase, but you hardly noticed while his lips traced a hot path down your jawline and neck. Your skin was alight with the fire everywhere he touched. 

Once you got to the stairs, in the hastiness of each other, you almost tripped again. You were starting to get tired of this sudden clumsiness, even more so when you heard him chuckle. He didn’t even try to hide how amused he was. God, the asshole sounded so smug but you didn’t miss the hoarseness in his voice. You weren’t the only one so affected. 

He spun you around and sat you on the stairs, unzipping your jeans with one hand while supporting himself with the other. 

You weren’t sure what he was doing, but once he had better access to your underwear, you wondered if he was going to just fuck you on his stairs. You found the urgency of his actions turned you on immensely. 

He met your lips with his own as his fingers pressed against your clit over the fabric. He swallowed up the moan you let out at the contact. The feeling of his two fingers rubbing circles over the evergrowing wet patch on your underwear felt sensational. You felt even more aroused as you thought of the mental image of yourself, helpless under him as he rubbed and kissed you. Your obvious growing arousal gave away how eager you were for his touch, and you realized didn’t mind if he knew it. 

But the hard stairs beneath you were digging into your back, stealing your focus from him all over you.

You broke the kiss for a moment, opening your eyes to see Jamie gazing intently at you. Your breaths came out in heavy pants as you stared back. You pressed a hand to his cheek, endearingly.

“I love the enthusiasm,” you said, gesturing to his hand in your pants, “But this is kinda uncomfy. Happen to have a bed somewhere?”

Jamie blinked at you for a moment before seeming to shake himself out of his reverie and withdrawing his hand. He nodded, standing up and pulling you up with him. 

Suddenly you were swooped into his arms, as he climbed the stairs. You couldn’t help the laugh you let out at the romantic gesture. 

You let out another laugh upon entering his room. You hadn’t really noticed much of the decor downstairs, instead being solely focused on kissing the daylights out of Jamie Tartt. But now that you glanced around his bedroom, you noticed little pieces of him. 

A big full length mirror next to the closet. Some trophies on his dresser. A large painting that looked abstract but you knew if you asked him about it, he would wax poetic about the artistry. 

His bed was covered in slate gray sheets, a dozen plush pillows and a dark duvet. And the thing that stood out most? The leopard print headboard. 

Jamie noticed you observing his room, bringing your eyes back to him. 

“Good’n proper, innit?” he asked, looking proud of his interior design.

You let out an incredulous giggle, before he pulled you over to the bed, and pressed you into the sheets. 

Your clothes were off in record time and Jamie Tartt was suddenly between your legs. He peppered kisses to the inside of your thighs, taking his time to savor every inch of skin. 

Finally his tongue met your folds, and you nearly melted into a puddle on the mattress. You tugged at his hair as he lapped at your clit. He kept a slow pace and you ran your hands gingerly through his hair.

Slowly, he inserted a finger, then two, making you moan at the sensation. His mouth never let up, and he draped one arm over your torso to keep you from rising off the mattress. His breath was hot against you as he sucked and licked at your core. You were so wet. 

“Are you trying to ruin all other men for me?” you muttered between breaths. 

His chuckle sent vibrations through you, and you whined in response. He knew exactly what he was doing and it showed. 

He hooked his fingers inside you to find just the right spot and it wasn’t even a few more moments before you came with a loud whine. 

You just laid there for a moment, catching your breath and learning to function again without his mouth all over you. You looked over to see him slowly taking off his jeans and shirt, his eyes never leaving yours.

You couldn’t help but stare back, watching his movements meticulously. He chuckled at you in that cocky way of his and you realized how heavily you were thirsting over him. You were shamelessly eye-fucking him. 

You went to look away before he took his dick out, turning over onto your stomach as a distraction. You weren’t sure you’d ever recover from this if you saw Jamie in all his naked glory.

You felt the bed shift as he joined you, his weight settling over top of your body. He brushed your hair across your shoulder before peppering kisses across your neck. His hair tickled your face.

His hands roamed all over, tracing a trail of heat from your shoulders, down your spine, to your ass which he squeezed tenderly before smacking it.

You didn’t even try to muffle the moan that left your mouth. 

Jamie chuckled. “Don’t reckon I’ll get tired of that anytime soon.��

“Just fuck me, please,” you whined in response, pushing your ass up against him. 

That was all it took for him to finally slide inside you, causing you both to groan simultaneously. He kept himself propped up above you as he thrusted into you. You clenched your hands into the sheets.

Everything was overwhelming. How was it possible that sex with Jamie felt even better the second time?

Was it the fact that you both had more privacy? The freedom to make as much noise without the fear of someone walking in? Or was it the fact that his body felt hot and perfect against you? Like you’d been walking around searching for a missing puzzle piece, and he fit impeccably. 

You were surrounded by Jamie. You could hear his staggered breaths against your ear as you clenched around him. His arms propped around your head so that when your breathy moans left your lips, they flowed across his wrists before disappearing into the air around you.

“Jamie,” you panted, “I need more.”

He paused for a moment, midthrust, and you wondered if you’d said the wrong thing. Suddenly, he pulled out completely and flipped you over, so you were looking directly into his eyes. It took everything in you not to let your eyes drift down to the rest of his body. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see he was just as sculpted as you expected. Hard muscles mized with soft skin. You wondered once again how the hell you wound up fucking him not once, but twice.

His eyes were unreadable, and the only sound was your breaths mixing in the space between you. Slowly, he leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek, your jaw, your earlobe. The warm softness of his lips made you squirm underneath him. He took his time, which was oddly affectionate. The words that came out of his mouth next were decidedly less so.

“Yeah?” he whispered into your ear. “Need me to fuck you harder?”

White heat ran through your veins. You nodded frantically, biting your lip to hold back a moan. 

He slid his dick back into you, holding eye contact as he did so. 

“I want you to see who’s fucking you good.”

He picked back up in speed, and you were close, so close. Your whines filled the room with desperation. That’s what it was. Desperation. You were desperate. Desperate to stay like this, to feel him deep and to have him so fixated on you. But you were also desperate to find a release. The pit building in your stomach was making your mind hazy. The sounds coming from your mouth were more broken as you fought to keep your eyes from rolling back. But the way Jamie groaned, cooing dirty little phrases at you, you knew this was a losing battle.

 “That’s it, take it all- fuck,” he groaned not slowing down in the slightest. 

You closed your eyes as you got close to your climax. Your hands held onto his hips as he pushed your knees up closer to your chest to get that much deeper. 

“Open your eyes, love,” he said.

You did as he said, not realizing the intensity of the request until you were coming undone while staring into his blue eyes. Your brows furrowed and your mouth fell open, a silent moan caught in your throat as he took you in. You were speechless as you both came down from your high and he finally slid out and your legs relaxed. He ended up laying half on top of you, but you were too spent to say anything.

The weight of him was heavy but comforting. Once the high of your orgasm subsided, you once again started overthinking everything. You couldn’t stop your head from spinning with too many thoughts.

I’m in such deep shit, you thought. 

Jamie rolled off of you and rummaged around in the bedside table. He rolled back over to you with some tissues, wiping off your legs with a careful touch. 

The action was incredibly intimate and you hadn’t expected him to help you clean up. The next words out of his mouth were even more unexpected. 

“Do you want to stay?” 

You caught a glance at the clock on his dresser, telling you it wasn’t even midnight. 

You didn’t want to unpack why his offer touches you so deeply. But as much as you want to stay, you know you really shouldn’t. You’ve read too much into things in the past and you didn’t want to repeat the same mistakes. Especially with someone you saw at work on a near daily basis. It was time to get back to reality. 

So you said, “No, that’s okay, I’m gonna head home,” even though it made your heart ache in a weird way. 

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he nodded, and sent a crooked smile your way. 

“You sure you can even walk?” he asked. 

Your legs did feel like jelly but you refused to show weakness. You got up and shimmied into your jeans, pulling your top on after. 

You looked back at him, to see he was lounged across his bed butt-naked. You finally let your eyes linger on him the way you wanted, and he definitely noticed. You looked away. 

“I’m just fine, thanks.” You replied stiffly. 

He rolled his eyes, telling you he’d at least walk you down. You expected him to get dressed but he just put on his shirt and followed you back downstairs. 

“Well if you ever get lonely, my door is always open,” he said. 

Despite having fucked him twice in less than 12 hours, you let your cold exterior slide back into place, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“In your dreams, Tartt.”

You exited through the door and walked down his front path, refusing to turn around as he sang out a good night. But you couldn’t stop the ghost of a smile from gracing your face.

Leaving was harder than it should be.

[enterpris]

Trials and Games

Pairing: Reader x Gojo

Summary: After training your whole life and making it to the Olympic Games, you are finally able to compete with the most elite athletes from around the world

You finish your event and are looking to celebrate- with the help of a handsome, white haired athlete of course

Warnings: Bad flirting, bj, fingering, v*aginal sex

Length:

Ao3: PlaidSparrow

Gojo's leaning on the table behind you. 

“Hey, you didn’t mention that you’d finished your event yesterday! Congrats on the gold.” He give you a rakish smile.

“Yeah, everything’s been kind of a blur honestly. I’m glad to have it over with though. Is it difficult having your event at the end of the games?”

“Nah, it leaves plenty of time before the event to check out the competition and get some more training in. Plus, it also gives me time for some extracurriculars,” he looks you up and down again. 

Maybe it’s the high that’s leftover from the winning, but there’s something intoxicating about being desired so blatantly. If he doesn’t think some casual sex will throw him off his game for the event, you’d be more than happy to take advantage of his advances. 

“I happen to be looking for some extracurriculars myself. I think we could find something to do together.” You return a flirty smile of your own. 

“Oh perfect! You’re good at swimming, too, right? I've been wanting to get in the pool and do some laps, it's a great full body workout.”

If it weren't for the glimmer in his eye when he says it, you'd probably assume you had completely misread his interest. As it is, it seems Gojo is interested in verbal sparring as foreplay.

“There’s plenty of ways to workout the whole body. But I’m happy to show you the training pools.”

He seems to be pleased with your answer, that you’re willing to play. 

“Oh you're bold, huh? Maybe after the pool we can try out one of those other ways. What do you say we put some work on?” His smile is radiant. 

“Well they did hand me like 30 condoms, I wouldn’t mind using them,” you shoot back.

“I bet we could do some damage to one of our cardboard beds. Tomorrow then?” The accompanying finger guns are equally dorky and charming. 

“Yeah, sounds good.” You give him a quick wave and set off towards your building- gotta make sure the room will be empty tomorrow.  ~*~

You’d spent the morning in one of the training pools warming up, swimming some laps and showing Satoru the training building allocated to aquatic events, then returned to your respective buildings in the village to freshen up. You shower and thank your past self for deciding to live a little while you’re at the Games.  

Watching the way Satoru’s body moved in the pool, pulling muscles tight and his face flush to catch his breath, thinking of all you'd like to do with him, was an hours-long exercise in self control. You’d like to touch his skin, be the reason his cheeks are pink and breath is short. 

You wait for him outside your building, absorbing the sunlight that filters through the branches of the trees. A few moments later, you lead Satoru back to your (empty) room on the third floor. For all of his talk, Gojo is surprisingly non-initiatory when you walk into your room. 

He looks around at the slightly messy room- there’s luggage on your floor and the unpacked clothes hanging on the back of your door- before looking back at you. In your defense, there’s been a lot going on, and pretty much everything is more interesting than unpacking the different uniform options. 

You raise an eyebrow, and Satoru shrugs back at you.

“Just thought I should know a little more about you before we dive right in.” He smiles at you impishly, and it ignites your need for him even more. You take a single step towards him. 

“Is there anything else you’d like to know?”

“I think there’s a lot I’d like to learn about.” 

You take another step towards him. 

“Let me show you then.”

Satoru waits for you to take the last step between you, bringing you nearly face to face. He’s taller than you are, and he looks at you heatedly for a moment. 

You stare into his dark eyes for a moment and your heart is already beating faster. Then the tension snaps. He pulls your body to his own, and you can feel the firm muscles of his chest through the thin uniform shirt. He’s exuding heat, and as he brings his lips to yours for an open-mouthed kiss. Satoru’s lips are soft but insistent, and he sensually runs his tongue along your own. He tastes just slightly of mint, fresh and a little sweet.

His strong arms are still pressing you into his chest, and you maneuver one of your hands under the fabric of his shirt. His skin is burning there, and his abs flex when you press your hands against him. The wet heat of his mouth on your own intensifies your own want, pulsing through every inch of your body. 

You break the kiss and peel the shirt off, revealing his superb body once again. The small room is filled with your pants, catching up on breaths lost to each other, and you admire his physique. He’s got incredible definition, and you can tell the muscles have been built up for strength and power, not just looks. Under the bright shirt he's pale everywhere, an expanse of clear skin and fine hair trailing down the v of his hips. 

“Like what ya see?” 

Satoru puts his hands on his hips and then jokingly poses, flexing his arms and then turning to give you another angle. He’s stockier than you had originally thought, but is lithe and light on his feet. It’s easy to see how he could out-maneuver an opponent, and you’re halfway hopeful he’ll be able to take you down in a similar way. 

“I do.”

Your eyes are hooded as you watch him preen. Satoru continues to peacock until you corral him toward the bed. His own hands find their way under your shirt, skirting around your bra. His fingers are thick and rough from his own training, they're pleasantly coarse on your own smooth skin. 

It's starting to feel uncomfortably warm in the small room, and you're ready to divest yourself off some of your clothing. You help him tug off your top, and he immediately palms your breasts, your nipples already peaked under the thin lace. 

He leans down to kiss you again and you run your hands over his torso. His warm hands continue circling your nipples and he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. When you reach the waistband of his shorts, he groans into your mouth and you can taste his neediness.

You're up against the low mattress now, and you push Gojo to a sitting position. The small cardboard bed frame doesn’t give you much to work with, but slowly, teasingly, you get onto your knees before him, placing open mouthed kisses down his chest and stomach before painstakingly pulling his trousers and underwear to the floor.

His cock is flushed and smacks against his stomach, already beaded with pre-come. 

“Just a sec” Gojo reaches down and pulls a condom out of a pocket in his shorts. “I know you said you had plenty, but it seemed more gentlemanly to bring my own.”

Then he bites the package open and easily slides the rubber down the what of his cock. He tilts his head and pumps himself a couple times.

You grasp him and replace his hands with your own, maintaining the steady rhythm he had begun. Achingly slowly, you lower your lips to his member. You take just the tip into your mouth, and his cock jumps. 

The taste of the latex isn't your favorite, but as you take more of Satoru into your mouth, his breath hitches and you can feel him grow even harder. You explore him with your tongue, running over the veins, and with your hands, one closed over the base of his shaft while the other cups his balls.

You continue bobbing your head, slowly increasing the speed and you can feel his cock pulse in your mouth. 

There are spots of pink on his cheeks as you look up at him. You maintain eye contact as you dip back down to the base of his cock and slowly pull back up. Gojo leans his head back and sighs as you push your tongue along the thick vein on the base of his shaft. “Jesus.”

His legs are tense now, and the movements of his hand are erratic as he cups the back of your head. HIs breaths are coming faster now and he’s watching every one of your movements carefully. You flick the tip of your tongue across the head and then descend again. You can’t quite take all of him into your mouth, so you manage what you can and then suck gently.  

Satoru sighs above you. 

Knowing that you've got him on the edge of coming leaves you breathless and wanton. You can already feel the slickness between your thighs. 

Before you can do any more, Satoru gently moves his hand to your jaw and lifts you off of himself. He pants a couple beats and then partially rises, allowing you to join him on the bed. Before you recline he slips your shorts off, leaving you in only your matching lace underwear. 

He takes your prior place on the floor and traces his hands up the defined muscles of your legs, lingering on the bulk of your quads and calves, and his eyes sinful in their appreciation of your physique. He spreads your legs farther. 

“God, do all divers have legs as delicious as yours?”

His blue eyes linger on the valley where your legs meet as his fingers find their way to the top of your lacey underwear. 

“Maybe all Olypian divers do.”

You’d meant to be a little flirty and teasing, but it comes out breathier than you meant when he runs the pad of his thumb over the fabric. It’s already soaked, you know, and his first touch slides deliciously against you. 

“I dunno, I think what you’ve got is special.”

He strokes you again, licks his lips, and then returns his hands to the top of the underwear, slowly sliding them down and exposing you. Once the garment is out of the way, He runs his finger across your bare sex, gliding easily through your folds. 

You inhale sharply and he locks eyes with you as he slides a finger into your dripping pussy. His eyes are aflame and his attention is glued to you as he slowly pumps into you, watching for any change in reaction. He adds another finger, stretching you just slightly. 

Besides your heavy breathing, the only other noise in the room is the lewd swash of his fingers pumping in and out of you. When he lightly rests his thumb on your clit you jerk, and when he begins to rub soft circles on it you moan. 

Your eyes flutter shut to absorb the sensation, but you realize that you miss the intensity of Satoru's eyes on you. You look back down at him, and trace his body as he continues to touch you, cataloging the way his abs clench when he pants out breaths and how his cock twitches.

Knowing he's so hard and ready for you pushes you closer to the edge, your legs tense with the prospect of release. Satoru analyzes your responses with the keen eye he would turn to an opponent, but he's not looking for an opportunity to pin you, but to bring your pleasure wide open. 

Satoru nips your bottom lip, moves his other hand to unclasp the bra behind your back. Now uninhibited, he palms the breast in his huge hand then rolls your nipple.

The pleasure in your body is fluid, rising and pooling between your legs. You pulse around Satoru’s fingers and a moan slips out. He keeps his fingers deep inside you and the thumb on your clit moving steadily, it's enough for the waves of pleasure to break over you. 

Your vision whites out for a moment and then your whole body is liquid, melting in the aftershock of one of the most intense orgasms you've had in a while. 

Gojo looks down at you, pleased, then climbs back into the bed next to you. He lets you continue to catch your breath laying down, but drapes your legs over his thighs as he rests back on his haunches. The position will give him plenty of access to your body. 

“Is this ok?” 

You nod, and then he lines up his cock to your entrance. 

The first couple thrusts are shallow, as he watches your breasts bounce every time he pumps into your slick cunt. The position affords you quite the view too- the exertion has left Satoru with a sheen of sweat on his skin and a pleasing pink  On his chest that wasn't there when you started. 

He grips your hips now and pulls himself deeper, increasing the rhythm between your bodies. This angle is reaching deep within you and building a mounting pressure that could build you back to another peak. 

Clearly the training you've each done for your sports is paying off in the bedroom too- your appetite for Gojo is voracious and he seems to have plenty of stamina.

Watching him pump his hips languidly, his cock disappearing into you, you reach down and hold his wrists where he's clinging to your hips, taut and aching.

Using the leverage from your handle on Satoru’s arms, you lift yourself to meet each thrust. The extra pressure of your weight on his arms doesn't seem to bother Gojo, if anything, his soft moans seem to get more frequent the more you touch him and use him to chase your pleasure. 

“I want you like this,” Satoru groans and then unfolds his legs, resting his forearms on each side of your head and bringing you nearly face to face. 

As you adjust he pushes the hair out of his face, which displays the long line of muscle down his bicep and torso. The modem disrupts the roll of his hips into your own for a moment, but he's quick to resume.

Now you're close enough to taste him- you lick a stripe up his corded neck, relishing the salt of the sweat you've put there, before whispering in his ear. 

“I’m close again.”

The words galvanize him, and Satoru crushes his lips to yours, messy and lustful and frantic.

“What do you need?” His voice is breathier now. 

“Keep this pace, God, you're so deep.”

He nods and glances down your body, then licks his thumb and returns it to your clit.

He circles the nub again, but his motions are disjointed and jerky now. You can tell he's close to his own high. 

“Come first one more time, you got a gold, chase this too.”

You shatter for the second time, pulsing around Gojo, who's buried deep. His steady pace starts to feast and he ruts into whole biting his lip before he comes apart with a sigh. 

The two of you share another kiss and gulp in air, then Satoru pulls himself out of you and nimbly climbs off the bed. Instead of feeling spent from your prior orgasms, you're left invigorated. You breathe deeply and can hear Gojo tie off the condom. 

Is it narcissistic if remembering the elation of winning sends you over the edge? Gojo's lips on your ear certainly helped, and either way you're grateful for the second high. 

You look back up at him when you feel the mattress shift under his weight. 

“So, you ready for round two?”

[blogauroragloryme]

I am wondering about Feng Xin and Mu Qing's first fight as Martial Gods of the South. Imagining that during Xian le era their fights were usually verbal bickering with each other and the hand to hand one was only during sparring.

So after ascending they never had a full blown fight. So imagining a scenario where after a meeting all the Gods are moving out and due to some comment now the two Southern Gods are facing each other like two tigers sizing each other up. Of course every heavenly official (are more like those gossiping neighborhood aunties🤣👀) is anticipating this showdown with fervour,after all the tragic story of Xian le Kingdom is something everyone has known,but to see a drama unfolding between two Gods of the most popular tale ;nobody wants to miss. They are all betting against whose gonna win and blah blah.

First MQ and FX are simply arguing and throwing barbs and insults. But than MQ says something and FX loses his cool and actually punches MQ using his power and MQ crashes in a nearby pillar. FX is flabbergasted because he didn't had any idea about his strength and is about to react before a spirit ball is thrown at him and he also crashes on the fountain in the middle of the Grand avenue.

The other heavenly officials definitely loved gossiping and betting,but they are also speechless because of the damage the two Southern Gods had done. Once this starts, there's no turning back MQ and FX attack each other in full swing not at all caring about anything and anyone. Earlier the officials were cheering and applauding for them,but now they're dragged in this crossfire as well(it's fun to imagine officials cheering and than getting accidentally hit with spiritual blasts😂 or rubble falling on them from the infrastructure). They are now definitely scared and scramble away for their lives. FX and MQ both are covered in injuries, bleeding and panting harshly but not backing down. Some brave officials try to intervene and stop them get non intentionally thrown away to the other side of heaven.🤣

I have a separate scenario for Pei Ming here😉. PM has just returned from a mission when he sees the officials gathered around what seems to be like an arena and his deputies explain it to him about the situation. PM himself has heard about the Xian le story and is intrigued. He has never closely seen the two newly ascended Gods and wants to see what's gonna happen.He sits in a high balcony from where he can get a clear view of the two and his deputy keeps on updating him about the Xuan Zhen and Nang Yang in picture (basically gossiping about their backstory). PM is definitely enjoying this show down alongside his deputies,apart from the drama he wants to study their Xian le fighting style and techniques and blah blah. He is enjoying before the situation escalates and the newly ascended Gods are now adamant in destroying the heavenly property.💀 When PM sees that none of the other officials are able to break their fight he himself descends to the arena to put a stop as the fight has dragged for too long and it's no longer an entertainment but an actual serious situation. He initially (as you all know) gives them his charming smile and chides them like he's talking to little kids but than MQ passes a comment and FX reacts and they start all over again and this time when PM actually steps to bodily intervene he also accidentally becomes a victim of a spiritual ball (its hilarious to imagine PM's handsome face getting covered with soot and his hair in disray). Now PM actually loses his calm and actually smacks the two of them on their head(FX and MQ both are tired +PM is stronger when he actually gets serious). MQ and FX finally fall down because of exhaustion and sporting similar bumps on their head.(You know like the Shinchan scene where Mitsi hits Harry and Shinchan and they grow bumps on their head😂) something like this 👇

Finally the fight comes to a stop and other heavenly officials start weeping (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) and thanking General Ming Guang for saving the heavens from destruction .MQ and FX had to be admitted to the medical pavilion. The next day another meeting is held and Jun wu although exasperated actually finds it amusing to see the two Southern Gods bandaged from head to toe. The one holding their reigns is PM and he also sports a bandage or two on his face 👀 (PM is sulking). JW actually comments on that huhu and PM actually glares at the two and they shiver like two younger brothers who are disciplined by their older brother.(I have mentioned in my earlier post also about how I like PM to have that annoying big brother energy🤭). Ling Wen is on the other side of JW nursing eyebags and a headache because she had to stay awake all night calculating all the damages the Southern Gods had done to the heavenly property including injuring other heavenly officials.

So yah this is the first and many other fights yet to witness in the heavens. But at least the other heavenly officials learnt their lesson about how to stay feets away from General Nan Yang and General Xuan Zhen during a fight and never to intervene if they value their lives.😁

(Just my head Canon 😆)

[halfamask]

The boys and their love languages:

Yusei:

He gives love through acts of service. It’s clear in the way he fixes Leo’s duel disk, helps build Aki a duel runner, goes out to get jack and doesn’t stop until he gets through to him, how he always volunteers to save the world even at his own expense. Yusei will drive himself to death doing things for other people and when he’s into something he’ll work on it for days surviving on energy drinks and cup ramen and it takes very real physical strength to drag him to bed to rest.

Crow:

He gives love through quality time. He’ll sit and talk to Yusei while he’s messing around with his bike and help him out with his projects. He’ll verbally and physically spar with Jack because both of them sometimes need to let out steam in a relatively safe way. He’s the guy that’ll follow his loved ones without any questions if they need something. He’s the one that can match Leo’s energy and run around town chattering after him and he’s the one that sneaks Akiza out to play pranks on Yusei and Jack.

Crow is the definition of a ride or die once he decides he loves you. He’s the guy that visits Martha as much as he physically can and brings cards or treats for the kids every time. He helps her build things around the house and fix up anything she needs. He knows Jack eats all his cereal and just buys more every time because he knows he likes it. He goes along with everyone’s little plans but banters and argues with the best of em bc when he loves you he wants you to make the best decisions. He’s loud and proud about his love and he’ll let it bring him and the recipient of his love nothing but happiness.

Jack:

He gives love through gift giving. His first stint as a sponsored duelist under Goodwin showed him that money truly does buy anything, from engines and nice clothes to power, influence, and comfort. He’s the one that buys Yusei and Crow new, nicer clothes and fancy things they only wear rarely. And for people like them, that’s the sign that they’ve made it, the ability to have things just to have and use rarely, to not have to look at things from the angle of how much use they’ll get out of them. He grew up never having nice things so he jumps at the chance to spoil himself and his boys. But it’s not just gifts. He funds a vacation for Martha that he disguises as her winning a sweepstakes because he knows she’ll never take his money. He’s the only one of the three that actually invests and sets up retirement accounts and talks to lawyers to set up trusts for the orphanage. He donates exorbitant amounts of money to Martha’s orphanage and others in addition to helping out in person, because just because these kids aren’t with bio parents doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have creature comforts. He invests in research that helps psychic duelists because he doesn’t want what happened to Akiza with the Arcadia movement to happen to anyone else. He knows from person experience with Goodwin how corrupt powerful officials are and doesn’t hesitate to fund lobbyists fighting for laws making sure things never go back to the way he grew up. He makes sure Crow never runs out of his favorite coffee, that Yusei always has a sweet treat on hand, because they all grew up without and damnit he’ll make sure they never feel like that again

[lorei-writes]

Hi Lorei!

For the silly character ask game... we're going to cross the streams... Mitsunari and Chev .... #10... 24 hour body swap! :)

Oh my, hahaha, I'm wheezing. YOU MENACE. (I love it, thank you very much, and thanks for dropping by <3 )

Chevalier & Mitsunari

10. They swap bodies for 24 hours! How badly do they mess up (or improve) each other's lives?

I think they'd do just fine. Each would perform the other's duties without a hitch. No major improvements detected on either side.

HOWEVER, everybody around them would lose their mind. Nobunaga would order Mai to have a private therapy session with "Mitsunari", to fix him. Hideyoshi would cry into his futon (HIS CHILD! WHAT HAPPENED TO HIS CHILD). Ieyasu would start drafting an apology letter, and Masamune... Well, he'd start sparring with "Mitsunari", most likely. Keiji? Keiji has received a death glare and is now sitting in the corner, fearing that his mouth will truty get sewn shut. Additionally, Nobunaga pops a vein in his eye, as he'd never expected to argue with Mitsunari -- and this "Mitsunari" is not only willing to entertain a verbal squabble with him, he is BLUNT. (They end up drinking sake and playing Go throughout the night. Whoever wins takes control over the Oda forces.)

Meanwhile, in Rhodolite?

Clavis is torn. On one hand, he dies from laughter whenever "Chevalier" spills something (and oh, is he parched -- Chevalier, could you brew me some tea?~), on the other... he is terrified. Where is his insufferable older brother?! THIS IS NOT HIS BROTHER. Leon & Jin put together an official search party. Nokto blames himself -- it surely is all the fault of that Benitoitian liqueur he's acquired. Chevalier's brain must have been damaged. Luke thinks it's actually sort of nice, and he goes to buy a couple beehives to set around palace gardens while he still can ("Chevalier" wants to assist him in it, no less). However, Sariel lock "Chevalier" up, thinking it may be some infectious disease. Yves cries. Licht comforts him (or tries to).

Ask game

[classificationhell]

how would alastor or ethier lucifers react to a fiesty reader who's a fighter. Whether martial arts, guns or swords, or making their own bombs, or even just arguing with their words or debating, like they get a thrill from it and always try new tactics to come out on top no matter the fight? I guess think like vi from arcane.

Had to look that up since I don't play league of legends (I'm more of a solo rpg type gamer type tbh lol)

Alastor is fine with it as long as that fiestiness isn't directed at him specifically. Do you want to beat up someone else? Just don't do so publicly and make a spectacle of yourself, is all he asks. However, you want a go at the radio demon? You are just asking for discipline aren't you?

As stated many times, Alastor is very old school in his discipline, feeling like sparing the rod is spoiling the child, or Little in this case. He'll be sure to stamp out any rebellious behavior and even fight you if you so wish, but when he wins, you're also getting your ass spanked near bloody for causing a scene and having the gall to go against your Caregiver and Alpha.

Even in the case of just using your words, he's upset. As long as you can do it eloquently enough to avoid foul language and for the original sentence to have double meaning though there's not much he can do about it begrudgingly. Being smart does have its perks. However, if you use foul language or say something that couldn't be taken innocently, then you're getting a good spanking and having to hold a piece of soap in your mouth until it dissolves and only then will you spit it out and apologize to your Papa for your vulgarity. As always afterwards he reassures you that he does love and care for you and that nothing is wrong with you. You just need to learn how to put your fiestiness to use in other ways that are hopefully more productive. He'll offer to allow you to verbally handle Vox next time he tries to smear his name or something.

Lucifer will try and help curb their more violent tendencies should they have, but he isn't really big on discipline. Might ask Charlie for advice as a last resort if they're too fiesty. I could imagine you having regular sparring matches with Vaggie to try and manage your fiestiness in an appropriate way. If it's just words then well Lucifer lived through Charlie's goth phase, he can handle words.

Mourningstar is very obtuse due to his delusions. He will take fiestiness as a kind of cry for attention and triple down on Daddy daughter time with you. Do not try and fight him unless you wanna be in a babysling, or worse, constantly for a while.

[thistuesdaynight]

A Little Flirting Never Killed Anybody

Jegulily fluff-- getting together

Regulus Black takes pride in knowing how to ruffle his opponents. He's spent years honing his skill, studying his enemies, and using their own weaknesses against them. Usually weaknesses they didn't even know they had.

It meant that he could win any argument, which often resulted in tears (though never his own). Students at Hogwarts didn't mess with him because they knew they would lose, and nothing ever came to a duel, because one round of verbal sparring, and Regulus had already won.

He was quick witted, sharp, and no one could best him.

That was until he met James Potter.

It was strange to Regulus that the bumbling git Potter could ever be the one to leave him speechless, but there they were in potions class, and this man was not at all what he had expected.

He'd seen Potter gallivanting in the halls with his band of idiots (his daft brother included) and had thought there was nothing going on in that boy's head.

And it was true, his potions knowledge was abysmal, but the way James looked at him sent strange shivers down his spine. Regulus wondered what kind of crazy spell he'd cast that would make his heart race and his palms sweat too.

"You have to crush it, not slice it," Regulus said, watching with bated breath as James handled the ingredients of their potion.

"I was going for a creative interpretation of the text."

Regulus didn't know what deity he'd pissed off to be saddled with James bloody Potter in potions class, but he figured it was too late to start counting his karma now.

"If you want to lose your head, by all means get creative with the instructions," Regulus waved his hand over the bubbling cauldron in front of them. "That's actually a great idea. Why don't I stand over there, and you forget the recipe altogether?"

James looked up from the mortar and pestle with a large smile. His eyes were sparkling behind his glasses, which perched precariously at the end of his nose, tendrils of unruly hair flopping in front of his face. Regulus had the most peculiar urge to push his hair back and right his spectacles.

He scolded himself immediately. There was no way he wanted to touch James Potter. His glasses could fall into the cauldron for all he cared.

The older boy's smile turned into a sly smirk, and he gazed at Regulus for far longer than was polite.

"What are you grinning at, Potter?"

"You're smart."

"Yes, I know. As for you, I don't know how you've made it this far."

James laughed, those damn brown eyes twinkling at him again, and Merlin if he wasn't careful, he'd surely lose those glasses.

Regulus was caught off guard by James' reaction. Regulus was insulting him. He was being pompous and self-centered and controlling. Shouldn't he be angry with him? Regulus watched James suspiciously from the corner of his eye, but the boy kept smiling and preparing their potions ingredients.

"And you're pretty."

Regulus felt his face go hot, and he spluttered for a moment, scrambling for something witty to say.

"Why don't you tell your girlfriend that?"

Why would James Potter tell him that he was pretty when he'd been chasing Lily Evans for years? No, they weren't dating, but she'd wake up and see what a catch James was eventually.

Or-- well--Regulus just meant…

Oh, bloody hell.

"Oh, she knows," James said. "We talk about how pretty you are all the time."

Regulus' stomach clenched and his face burned even hotter. Lily Evans was talking about him? He swallowed hard and tried to look normal, act normal after this strange turn in conversation, but James had turned back to the cauldron, leaving Regulus spinning in his thoughts.

That was the first time James had bested him, and Regulus was determined for it to be the last. He was a Black for goodness sake! Making people scared of him was in his blood. He wasn't going to let any Gryffindor get into his head ever again.

Regulus, however, had never gone toe-to-toe with Lily Evans.

When Lily found him in the library, he could hardly even think. She was prettier up close than any time he'd glimpsed her from across the corridor. And she was so sure of herself, walking right up to his table and sitting herself down across from him without an invitation. Normally, Regulus would say something snarky and derisive about wanting his personal space. But how could he think of something rude to say when she pinned him with that beautiful green-eyed gaze and smirked at him like she knew something he didn't. He was struck speechless.

Regulus was never speechless.

She quirked an eyebrow, and Regulus realized he'd been staring too long.

"He's been flirting with me!" He blurted, panicked. "Whatever it is, it's not my fault."

Lily smiled, and Regulus knew he'd just let yet another Gryffindor get the best of him.

"And did you like it?" She asked, batting her eyelashes.

Regulus' heart pounded. What was happening? Was he dreaming? Was this some kind of trick?

"What?"

"Did you like it?" Lily leaned in, and her perfume floated across the table. "Did you flirt back?"

"I wouldn't even know how." Regulus wanted to slap a hand over his mouth. He couldn't say that to Lily Evans! To the girl that James liked. To the girl that Regulus-- that-- well, Regulus…

Oh, bloody hell.

"Lucky for you James likes that kind of thing," Lily smirked at him. "And so do I."

Regulus felt his breath catch in his throat, speechless once again. Lily raked him over with her gaze, and he felt undone and exposed. Lily Evans was powerful like that: a storm that raged through and stripped you down to your most essential parts. It was simultaneously thrilling and terrifying.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head, sweetheart. You don't have to impress me." Lily's eyes sparkled mischievously.

"I- I don't?" He wanted to. Merlin, he wanted to be the kind of person who could impress Lily Evans.

"I can do enough flirting for the three of us. You just be your lovely self."

"The three of us?" Regulus must have been confused. Mistaken.

Lily just sent him a wink before standing and sauntering out of the library. Regulus slumped back into his chair. He had no idea what was going on, but he thought he liked it.

[bladesmercy]

1, 3, 5, 8 and 15 formation Sefikura please 🙏

Send me a ship and a number and I'll tell you

1. Which one is the better cook

Ooooh....i think this completely depends on what era we're talking about. in CC era, i think neither of them know how to cook outside of a microwave, or boiling water. by AC era....i think cloud wins, but the bar is in hell. given time to live a normal life, i think sephiroth has the capacity to become a much better cook than cloud, but it depends on if he actually has working human taste-buds anymore or not.

3. Which one outlives the other, and how they cope

well...canonically, cloud outlives sephiroth, and my personal headcanon is that he does cope, but only barely. he's already prone to dissociation and repression for other reasons, and i think as the years wore on alone....he would suffer those things more and more, eternally stuck with a hole in his chest that he refuses to name. from the opposite angle, i think sephiroth simply does not have a 'outliving cloud' part in his brain. it is not a concept he can accept. he will either drag cloud out of the lifestream himself, or he will engulf the cosmos in flame and himself along with it.

5. How many kids they'll have

my personal headcanon is that sephiroth is eternally caught between two warring thoughts. (A) that he wants as many offspring as possible with his and cloud's shared DNA no matter what he has to do to get them, and (B) that this thought is unpleasant, because cloud paying any attention to their children means that he'll have to pay less attention to sephiroth, and that simply won't do. XD if we're talking canonverse, i think cloud would flatout refuse to raise children with him, unless some kind of situation was forced onto him by fate or by sephiroth himself. i do think if they have biological children, they'd have to limit themselves to 1-2, because the world might not be able to handle too many individuals with their shared DNA. XD

8. What they argue about

for their AC selves, just about everything! i think arguing to them is a form of foreplay enrichment. but if they're both sane, i actually think the list of things they argue about becomes very small. about each other, like if they're working too hard, or silly things like if cereal counts as soup. they are of one mind on a lot of things, but they both enjoy feeling 'right' in an argument. verbal sparring is still sparring.

15. What they would change about each other

AC sephiroth would definitely tweak cloud to make him a bit more pliable and obedient, though i do have to wonder if he might later come to feel that decision was somewhat short-sighted. he does love stoking cloud's fire.... i think, upon being presented by this question, cloud would become overwhelmed about the sheer amount of things he would want to change, and boggle himself down in endless questions of whether he Actually wants to change sephiroth, or if what he really wants is to change himself and the history between them. i think he would ultimately chose to take the opportunity to make sephiroth several inches shorter, if forced to give an answer. (though...perhaps this is another choice he might come to regret.)

thank you so much for the ask!! <33