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wrennnies · 1 month

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HEY TUYS IM NOT DEAD

so in the last month ive been on holiday and then got sucked into inazuma eleven, since i was alresdy playing it ill give a short summary of what i thought (plus inaxuma eleven 2) and also the anime!!! (though shorter bc i watched it in a dub of a language i barely know) ill try and play all the inazuma eleven 3 games, i only watched the first season of inazuma eleven go tho.

inazuma eleven 1: it was great!!!! unfortunately ive been endeared to bobby shearers. also i thought the erik plotline went nowhere but i was supposed to get him before kirkwood.... the last battle i beat by mere happenstance, whoops!!! i lovedit tho. ALSO someone pls answer this: are zeus like.... genetically modified humans????? cuz it neverr gets answered, ray darks way of speaking was SO VAGUE. like is the research abt the boys or the steroids????

also nellys so cool i love her. the anime was super cool, but i was confused with its 127 eps since i only played the first game so i thought it mightve been like some anime only stuff??? turns out theres more than one inazuma eleven game.

i think the anime adapted the game pretty well, from what i could understand but i thought celia was way meaner abt jude in the game??? idk if its bc she has the “im gonna end ur life” face all the time in that game that made me think that though.... probably since shes like way more "innocent and cute" in the second game (todd ironside is so wrird i HATE HIMM in the first game)

anyway inazuma eleven 2!!!!!

great game, i called shawn shibuya since i didnt know his english name, or his Japanese one for that matter. the reason i chose shibuya was because i played twewy right before seeing him, and he looks like a shibuya.

speaking of which, i had some names for the people i didnt know the names of!! heres a list of the more interesting ones:

shawn: shibuya

victoria: peach (because her name sounded like peach in the localisation)

sue: girl inlove with erik

dvalin: hades (he looked like a hades)

hurley: dry sea (same reason as victoria)

darren: knockoff mark (look i didnt know anything abt this guy)

knockoff axel (i dont remember his name im sorry but his hairs kinda styled the same way????)

archer: giacomo????? giakomo???? i literally have no idea who or ehat a gyacomo is i just saw him and said "giackomo" SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHO GIACOMO IS, maybe i mixed gakupos name and komo os name together???? but WHY????

camilla: kori (i played time hollow before this and they looked kinda similar)

anyway back on task i really liked the girls, even if they got their ass kicked most of the time... like everyone else 😭😭 also jack was so sexist like WHATTT least mark was like yeah u come over here NOW.

the love stuff was cool, i savestated to ge everyones dialogue lol... i think my favs either toris or celias, its hilar that they dont even CONSIDER celia to be gf material 😭😭😭 but thats fine with me, love her. i liked how nathans mental breakdown was done in the anime betterr than the game since he left himself and bot bc he got the shit beat outta him. also SHAWN FROSTE. KIND????? HE CALLED CLOISTER DIVINITY "CLOTH EARED BEGGARS" AND TOLD SOMEONE THAT THEY HAD A FACE ONLY A MOTHER WOULD LOVE FUCK YOU MEAN KIND???? blunts more accurare i think. hes also scottish so i thought hurleyd be welsh since shawn was scottish and hes north uk so i thought west would be welsh... even if that makes no sense. AND SOUNDTOWN IS SO FUNNY like "hed kill the coach to get that key" lmao???? some of the character sprites are.... interestinf!!!! victoria definitely looks better in the anime 😭😭😭

nah but to learn that these orphans were just cosplaying their ocs while bombing schools is insane LIKE THET GET NO REPRECUSSIONS???? THEY DESTROYRD SCHOOLS ANDI KNOW THEYRE ALL LIKE 12 BUT STILL???? also dvalin is such theatre kid, they ALL ARE.

aliens destroying the world via football is honestly so level 5 i think they found their footing.

linas eng voice does NOT suit her LMAO itsl like a teenagers voice like thats a grown ass woman bro

caleb is cool tho love his insane sprite

like did jordan EVER apologise for destorying a bunch of schools??? i prolly shouldnt say bombing cuz they werent bombs...

also i thouggt for SURE this franchise would be more popular like ONLY 2,861 FICS ON AO3 FROM A SERIES THAT LARGE????? FUCK OFF... LIKE PROFRSSOR LAYTON HASLIKE TEN THOUDAND OR SMTH STUPID??? and i also need to know which game i can recruit professor layton to football fight with me

and jordan was done SO DIRTY in sesson 3 LIKE NOOO COME BACK :(((((

and i thought axel x mark would be WAYYY more popular than it is???? like i cant believe caleb x jude is the most popular thing on ao3 😭😭

also i cant believe jordan and xavier adopted kariya and its ONLY MENTIONED IN THE DISCONTINUED GACHA GAME???? like isnt that breaking SOME sort of workplace relationship rule?????

im glad to see nelly and mark together, tho it makes me a bit sad to think what silvia wouldve thought bc she def was there when it happened, i also read some of the fandom pages for them and he gets married to camilla in an au???? like GOD silvia cant catch a BREAK

also go was really good!!! hate that pikachu fucker though. /j they got people that arent british!!!! and i got spoilt via my sister. cant believe hurley whirley wasnt in season ine tho wtf. caleb also lookslike a middle aged mother when hes older lmao. i also hate that fuck ass dog for a moment i thoight he was gonna start talking like a certain other level five dog i could name, SHERLY.

and im guessing tenma isnt in orion bc hes dead since axel wasnt alienating himself to save him that time....

i got spoilers and i thought that shawns dead bro was actually alive 😭😭😭 in inazuma eleven

descole and stahnguns secret love child is also cool, love the new captain even if hes rich and plays piano

and i think thats it!!!! thanks for reading if uve read this far lol

#wrenplays #inazuma eleven #inazuma eleven first playthough #inazuma 11 #inazuma 11 spoilers #inazuma eleven go anime #inazuma eleven anime #wrent

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ms-hells-bells · 1 year

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I think... Genuinely yes, it would be much better if they were up front about it being a toy commercial rather than coopting feminist language to sell the toys while pretending it ISNT a commercial. Because there is no amount of feminist words you can insert into a movie made by Mattel to sell barbies that would change its use of a political movement to push consumer goods. (I sound meaner than I'm trying to but you get me I hope). It's not about preferring it be a toy commercial or not, it's just a toy commercial no matter what. Delivering a good message in a watered down, confusing and preachy way for the sake of sales is not going to do us favors, I don't think.

i know it's a toy commercial, and it's hypocritical (even greta gerwig herself said that), but these movies get made no matter what. i was pretty cynical and against it beforehand, and there's still the whole hype and environment around it that i hate, and in the end it is consumerist capitalism (and being self aware doesn't remove the harm it does), but like i said, when i saw women and girls of all ages clapping and cheering and asking questions when seeing these characters saying that women are in a patriarchy and are in fact oppressed, and femininity is a part of that, when we currently live in a major anti feminist backlash where even leftist men refute the existence of modern misogyny, then i don't have the heart to completely denounce it.

it is obviously not truly feminist or a solution to anything, but i have always said that true liberal feminism in its original form (which is to strive for equality within the existing system) is supposed to be the moderate sister movement to radical feminism, where while we're seeking solutions for complete system overhaul and massive societal change, they bandaid the gaps in the meanwhile by being the more accessible and welcoming side, and helping women while more serious progress gets made. an equivalent would be moderate protesters who give first aid and create molotovs, and make good press, while the radicals throw the bombs and fight the police and overrun officials.

i think getting millions of women and girls worldwide to think about how they're treated in life, and how unfair things are, is likely more than you or i will ever do for women in our lifetimes.

#this is why i think there are more and more schisms within the radfem movement #because there are those who abhor modern liberal feminism #but are in reality not radfems and don't believe in radfem ideas #they are the moderate sisters #which is fine but that group does need to exist as its own entity

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hrghhhhhhhhh · 7 months

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whooooo, i read ur last reply to that holohacker question and i'd be super interested to hear how u would navigate what u said at one point! when u explained that the writers made them more and more annoyed with each other, meaner etc up to the point of not acknowledging each other anymore to show that they were never supposed to have a romantic spark, how would u do the other thing u recommended? like finding what canon gives u, filling the gaps etc if filling the gaps and seeing things in a romantic light made the writers so pissed about the ship in the first place - isn't that juss killing the ship for good? anyway thank u for giving such in depth replies ilu

I feel like the way i navigate these things is not framing the writers' intent as, like, emotional? ... idk how to phrase this, but i will try.

from this language: "made the writers pissed" it puts A LOT of intent in the writers hands that i dont think is there to begin with. I dont think theyre mad, per se, I do realize my prev answer may have sounded like the writers were being retaliatory - but thats not how i meant it!! It feels more like a gentle guiding back to their plot, NOT a full erasure, if im honest!

I don't really feel like their lines have been any meaner than they originally were, BUT i do feel like their lines are a little flatter together. which, again, i don't think comes with the baggage of the writers being "pissed". I think theyre just trying to deliver plot points. I personally feel like the plotpoints are: Too far apart, Too scattered by diff mediums, AND honestly not worth the wait most of the time. Thats not to say i think the entire thing SUCKS. I simply think its a pretty good plot told in the farthest-apart and briefest way possible. Totally frustrating.

OKAY SO now that thats all OUT of my brain: I dont think theyre making them hate each other at all! They have shallow interactions. but its not as black and white of "if they talk, theyre in love, and if they dont, they hate each others' guts". Actually thinking of the two of them getting comfortable with the other one in the room is so lovely; truly breaking through both of their personas and therefore NOT making either of them pretend around the other, and becoming comfy (thats my bread & butter baybey) As for the Killing the Ship: This is why i like to take canon very very lightly (im sorry thats my answer for everything LMAO) . I'm very used to Mirage being reduced to Mr Jokes The Clownman, and Crypto to his "solitary corner". I do get sad that theres NUTHIN' going on in terms of development for them together lately. BUT i don't have to settle for hollow (ha) Mirage, and boring loner Crypto! I can enrich them! Cause i'm not trying to shoehorn stuff into the current canon, they can exist side by side, they can intertwine, etc etc!

I am a multishipper so please, understand that ive been doing these mental gymnastics for a wHILE now akjdgskjh

TY FOR YOUR Q i hope i made sense <3

#ty for askin'

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circulars-reasoning · 1 year

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We don’t have inner communication in the sense that like, I “hear” other thoughts. All thoughts kind of sound like mine, but I know they’re supposed to be read with “different tones” if that makes sense? Like I can tell when one alter is Thinking but I know even though his thoughts sound like my thoughts, it’s meant to be heard with a deeper voice. In PRACTICE, it sounds like mine. But it’s supposed to be deeper and when he uses me to talk Physically, with our vocal cords, (we talk out loud to ourselves a lot more than in our brain), our voice starts to deepen (or tries to). Same for one of our other alters, she’s a lot girlier than I am, meaner, more egoic, vindictive (I love her and fortunately she is not like this To me), and has a much more feminine mannerisms and cadence.

I myself am very neutral, voidlike, masc but not a guy, genderfluid but almost always in like an emo-jock way whereas alter 1 is a lot more heaaaavy punk rock, thrasher, belongs in a moshpit, and alter 2 is definitely like. Regina George. Very girly, pretty colors, pink/light blue. We have more alters but these two are the more drastic extremes that make me feel less like I’m faking. They’re also completely different in terms of sexual orientation (which gets so confusing for me as cohost who is almost always cocon to suddenly change my mind about who and what I find attractive), with 1 being a gay man and 2 being a lesbian.

(The rest of us fall somewhere between aro, bi, and ace. I myself have NO clue what I am because I didn’t realize passive influence fucked up my understanding of attraction that badly so idk what my sexuality is outside someone in the upstairs influencing me, I’ve been going with arospec bi ace cause what the fuck.).

But the weirdness of inner communication makes me feel weird and invalid. Nobody really Talks over each other in the way I read about people’s experiences or even my other friend w did does. For me, it’s more like violent storms of emotions coexisting until we feel compelled to Talk Out Loud. I also don’t dissociate as often and most of our switches tend to happen during deep, vivid, lucid dreaming. Sorry this is so long, it’s just a struggle to constantly feel like I’m just someone who wants “friends in head” disorder

Hey, every system is going to look different in its own way -- or for you, maybe sound different too! But keep in mind, I'm also not a "normal" system. I've got a created part, I've always have fantastic communication, I know when I split, I've always been able to switch on command...

It doesn't make me or you fake to be slightly different. And so what if you've misjudged and were wrong? So long as this current label/diagnosis/term/what have you is currently helping you recover, then you're doing well. It doesn't matter if you end up wrong, so long as you are working on growth and recovery. <3

#asks #anon #did #osdd #other specified dissociative disorder #dissociative identity disorder #diamonds are a boy's best friend #osddid

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mdhwrites · 2 years

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🦝 Any thoughts on the Colector? I wondered if you ever talked about him 🌜

I have not! They should not be in the show!

Okay, that sounds way meaner than I actually feel towards The Collector. I can't even judge him that much because I haven't watched S3 (though my initial statement stands). He is enjoyable and charismatic as a villain and his first appearance was more entertaining than almost everything Belos has done in the show period. But also… They suffer from the same problem any of the other 'redeemed' characters do.

First appearance: I WILL DANCE AMONG THE BONES! I'M SO READY FOR EVERYONE TO DIE!

Next appearance: Aren't I just a sad little lad? Look at me be all cute and innocent. I just turn people into dolls. Am I really so bad?

It's… It's really blatant and with more time, there could have been time to smooth it over but…

Also the Collector is purely a part of S2B. After the shortening DEFINITELY was affecting the show. And he should not have been there. Period. They didn't have the time, not with all the time they'd already wasted.

Think about it: Come the end of S2A, they had the portal door, King's parentage, Raine's fate, Hunter's redemption and the Day of Unity as plot threads that HAD to be resolved. Period. For a show with only 14 more episodes left to its name, that's not even an average of three episodes per plot point. That is a ROUGH time schedule to keep, even if you say each has five by saying each episode could theoretically tackle two plot lines with their A and B plots.

Worse yet, the Day of Unity was fast approaching and Belos was still kind of shit? By then we still don't know he's Philip, his relationship with Hunter is basic and he hasn't done… Anything? He has espoused his supposed beliefs and had one confrontation with Luz but that's it. As THE primary villain for the series, even now in S3 (because The Collector is hardly meant to be seen as a villain at this point), he has done almost nothing and left little impression on the series besides seeming like a dick to work for.

And you want to introduce a small GOD into this mix? A character who is MAGNITUDES higher on the power scale than literally anything else ever shown in the series, let alone anything Luz and crew could attempt to handle when they can't even beat Belos. Not only that, but a character like the Collector is going to theoretically have a backstory and character of their own that should get time and you still haven't actually given those to Belos either.

And surprise, surprise, neither Belos or the Collector are well written or given the time or energy to be well written. The Collector entirely changes their personality OFF SCREEN so they're already ready for redemption when Luz gets to them and Belos is entirely irredeemable without being entertaining to watch in any way. They are the worst versions of their forms of villains.

And you could have maybe salvaged Belos by just cutting the Collector. Yes, it would have meant not copying Amphibia as mu- Revealing a secondary, far more powerful villain that kidnaps a main character as part of their rise to power before then sending part of the cast into the human realm but how much did the series benefit from going to the human realm? You know, besides making Camila less unique and getting to include a lot of fanfic moments?

But it would have meant more time for Belos. More time to parallel him and Luz as they briefly tried to in King's Tide. More time to let him go into full madness and really let loose as a villain. More time to do anything. The Day of Unity could have either been the SERIES finale then, giving a big moment that we've built up to since S1 the gravity of being the ending, or had the fallout of failing to stop it, or the cost of how they stopped it without Collector ex Machina, be Season 3. Either way, you have a lot less to deal with than "This is the Collector's World! Please feel like it's actually that much different from a standard apocalypse or really just the Isles in general since we don't have the time to depict that. We do have the time deal with Kikimora AGAIN though and return to Hexide to see all the side characters who haven't matter in at least half a season, if not since S1."

So in the end, the Collector is… Fine. Their villainy is fun but their arc is mostly predicated on bullshit that reveals the lie on other characters if you think about it. But their biggest crime is that King's Tide feels like a giant game of Chicken with Disney and any sort of real resolution or good writing for S3 and its villains, was the price for losing when Disney stayed firm about not extending the series another two series.

#Collector #TOH #Rambles

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toothlesshat · 2 years

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Hello I am an anon who agrees with you and previous anon about 2012 April and I wanted to take a moment to rant if that is okay.

2012 April had so much untapped potential. I'm not sure what the writers were doing with her. It seems like they couldn't agree on anything so she became a messy character. Even her concept art made her more well rounded than the final product? (Concept art is on the wikipedia page btw). It was like she was supposed to be this silly prankster but they never took it there. Concept art of her dancing and making pizza with Mikey? Idling chatting in the rain with Donnie, unplugging his inventions to make him seem like something is broken when its not even on? Where was that April at?

I actually like her better in the later seasons cause I feel like she's chilled one more once she becomes an experienced fighter. I feel like they pushed too hard for her to be the "powerful female" in the earlier seasons in the wrong ways. Her snapping at the turtles for protecting her even when she isn't experienced enough to fight on her own? That made no sense. I feel like once she has her abilities and skills that she is more likeable because now she is "one of them" and therefore doesn't feel like she has to fight her for place on the team.

Maybe a lot of her potential was lost when they tried to introduce her as a romantic interest. Which was fine in the beginning but really should have been dropped later on. The Bigfoot episode in season 2 when Donnie basically says "hey I see I'm making you uncomfortable and I'll stop pursuing you because of that" AND THEN SHE KISSES HIM ON THE CHEEK AND SAYS "oh but you're my mutate Donnie" WHAT KIND OF MIXED SIGNAL IS THAT?

They should've dropped the romance right there and let her focus on her relationships with the rest of the turtles. It would've been a growing point for Donnie and then we could see her hanging out with Raph, Leo, and Mikey more often cause I agree, I really could not tell you how she feels about them. Obviously she cares for them and they all see her as a part of their family but beyond that? No idea. Not to mention we never even see the beginnings of their friendships in the show. They save her and then a couple episodes later its like "Oh yeah, April is our friend and she's been our friend for weeks now" but we never see that happen? She's just there all of a sudden.

Anyway, thank you for coming to my ted talk. Sorry if this was exhausting to read lol

ANON YOU’RE JUST LIKE ME FR!!!!!!

It’s like you took everything I wanted to say and put it here because YES OH MY GOD!!!! Especially the thing about them trying to drive home the powerful girl message when she couldn’t fight yet, that was so frustrating because there’s other ways to show that April is headstrong and not afraid of defending herself, but they just made her sound so damn mean in the end! It drives me crazy because April is very clearly not supposed to be mean. I almost kind of wish they just leaned into her being a bit meaner like Raph, or the prankster the concept art made her out to be. Like, I swear the writers couldn’t write a woman to save their lives unless she was a villain, and even then they still fuck it up.

I really don’t think April should be demonized like a lot of people tend to do. Especially with the whole Donnie thing because idk if anyone remembers but Donnie stalked her!?!?!?! But the criticism is just… there, yk? I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with the idea of her, or a lot of the things they tried to do with her, it’s just that the execution of her character… leaves something to be desired, big time.

#emmie speaks #anon #tmnt 2012 #very very side rant #but remember the weapon Splinter gave April that he intended to give Karai?#GIVE THAT SHIT TO KARAI OH MY GODDDD

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trevanent · 2 years

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GRAND FINALE!!!

too many flaws pt 2

snipewriter 5H: shes my wife tbh but that object damage is pathetic. slap some multipliers for that!!! boost the ink efficiency too cos even tho the ink management game for it is fun to me it can rly hamper its ability to pressure which is v important for something thats sortof a splatling charger. allow for a third full charge cowards thats only a little better than bamboo anyways!

bloblobber: bloblobber is so goofy and annoying. i actually think it should be reworked a bit, after its blobgs have bounced twice, it should lose its one shot potential (each blob does 24.5). however, once the blobs dissipate, they leave behind a bigger splotch if ink where they died and overall paint is stronger. individual blobs are giod at painting too encourage use of spread shots. also, before first bouns, blobs do 34 damage each (!!) and have no fall off, can cmshres crazy in close quarters and better at fighting! biggest rework but :3

hydra splatling: straight the fuck up!!! decrease its charge time a tiny bit! make the max just as long but make the half charge a bit faster it can feel kinda goofy how long it can take just for a bit of oressure or displacement to undo it all...slight buff to strafe speed and slightly longer range when full charged! better fall off damage and better passive paint too, just to round up some tune ups for it honestly

dapple dualies: my beloveds... ok so first. buff damage. make them even meaner dps machines. 36 on standard fire and 39 on roll fire! cos fuck it B) reduce standard fire rng a little. also dapple dualies get tiny little dodge slides :) for a little more survivability and theyre the last dualie that makes sense to have that to me. redyce its end lag by one frame i deserve this. give it better fall off and increase fire rate in roll mode a little! just nutty object damage machines

reeflux 450: FUCKING. FULLY SPEED AIR CHARGE. NOW!! and buff its range to like og squeezer level and now were onto smthn! tbh i think thats it rly it just needs to be a decent fighter :)

the pits of beelzebub

clash blaster: honestly buff its paint just a little so that its sgots actually paint it a little path. give it really good jumo rng for a blaster cos uh. its so week so its shots r more stable! this may seem unneeded but being able to rely on directs even a little could help clash a lot without pissing off casuals even more. finallt, give it more strafe speed fuck it they wont notice. if it isnt already lightweight make it lightweight, and hell make its blast paint bigger too make it a little supportive, and reduce its endlag even more! v silly v zippy crazy thang but not too crzy

big swig: buff its roll damage to 80! make its min damage for vertical swing 45!! extend the ohko hitbox come on! make it have rlly fast cancellable flicks too with fast roll speed. finally, give its horizontal flick ohko if the body of the roller touchee the player too. this weapon cannot bs good at fighting for the good of everyone, but it atleast deserves a shot!!

goo tuber: oh my poor baby. dont fucking trifle with her make its charge speed two frames faster than splat charger and allow it to charge in ink at jumo charge speed buut it causes a loud gurgling sound and brighter glow that calls a lot of attention to you. also yes i agree w charas idea goo tuber should be able to throw bombs without dropping its charge. also more strafe soeed cos why not its supposed to be mobile

glooga dualies: tbh i think theyre ranked too low here im fucking cracked with these. but admittedly the standard fire is PATHETIC. it should get a slight fire rate boost and less shot spread its bullets should paint a bit more, its standard fire should be raised to do 40 damage and there should be less delay between its roll and its powerful roll shots firing. finally, make its fall off damage better, it ridiculous how a slight arc on my shots will make the turret mode not kill in two shots. also to reduce its vulnerability make its end lag just a little shorter after a roll.

undercover brella: raise max damage to 45! give shield 50 more hp! and my own touch, boost its strafe speed! this weapon needs alot of help tk be good well here it is! make it more zippy more punchy!

splat brella! boost its max damage back to like 90!!! make it more reliable for fucks sake. give its shield an extra 100 hp to account for sll the nutty object shreddage going on non the game now. and increase its range slightly!

tenta brella: boost its damage to make long range shots more consistent and increase shield hp by like 200. reduce its end lag a bit and with better maps....zooweemama

and thats all my ideas. im so tired

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momolady · 3 years

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Vyre the Dragonborn

A story of a dragonborn lady who values her privacy and distance from people. But then that all changes when she find an injured human on her doorstep.

Female Monster/Reader x Female Human

////////////////////////////////////////

I started noticing some strange things a few days ago - strange noises and movement in the bushes. I first thought it was just some animals, but then I found things like tracks in the mud outside my cave, discarded apple cores, and plants missing from my garden. Perhaps there was something bigger than the usual rabbit or mole sneaking around.

I’ve been living on my own for a while, because keeping to myself is better than the alternative. So seeing signs of life out here bigger than a rabbit, but smaller than a moose, is quite disturbing to me. I laid a trap, hoping to catch whatever has been stealing from me and stalking around my property, but the trap and whatever was thieving from my garden were gone by morning. There were traces of blood in the dirt and on some of the plants as well. Hopefully, this warning was enough to scare the intruder off, and if that didn’t do it, the foreboding storm clouds above would be the finishing touch.

Thunderstorms around here are no joke. I’ve been all over this world, and the rain here seems to fall heavier, harder, and meaner than most places. The temperature drops precipitously, and the black thunderheads in the clouds are like omens of death.

Late in the evening, I go to the mouth of the cave to fetch some wood from the tinderbox. As I step outside my door, I smell blood. My nostrils flare, and my chest burns. The blood is close, and I can taste its warmth upon my tongue. It’s been so long since I had been overcome by this feeling. I take a few deep breaths and approach the tinderbox, and I can see the trail of blood that leads around to the other side. I follow it to find a slumped, soggy shape huddled against the side.

The scent of blood is overpowering, stirring memories of battles, of my teeth sinking into flesh. I turn my head, catching a cold breath of rain and moss. I come closer to the figure, a stretched-out leg wrapped in a crude cloth bandage. I gently lift the figure’s hood to see what I’m dealing with, and it’s a human woman. You’re unconscious and pale, soaking wet from the rain and bleeding heavily from the trap I had laid. I suddenly feel very guilty. But who on earth would come back to the place where they had been injured? A fool, perhaps. A desperate fool.

I take you inside against my better judgement. I dress the wound, wrapping it properly to stop the bleeding, then remove your wet clothes and lay you on my bed to rest. You look small and helpless, and I suppose I am a fool as well. The storm rages on, thunder booming as loudly as cannons, and yet you don’t budge. I wonder how you can sleep so peacefully in such chaos.

I think I doze off in my chair, because I am woken by the sound of you stumbling out of bed. You’re on the floor, barely able to walk from your injury, but you’ve still managed to get close to the fire and your drying clothes. I get up from my chair and you cry out, ducking down and covering your head. “I won’t hurt you,” I say, “But you do have a lot of explaining to do. You’ve been thieving from my garden for a while now.” I come closer, crossing my arms over my chest. “Come on, get up.”

You remain huddled on the floor, whimpering softly. “Get up,” I command, but you still don’t move.

I take you by the nape of the neck like a kitten and place you back in my bed, where you shrink back into the corner. “I told you, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re far too close to death for my tastes.” I pull up a chair and sit down. “All I want is to know why you’re thieving from me.”

I see your eyes for the first time, quite large and dark in color. You whimper again as you slowly begin to rise, and as your hair falls in your face I notice how choppy and uneven it is, long and flowing in places and short and jagged in others. There are cuts on your hands as well.

“I-I w-w-was ju-just h-hungry,” you stammer.

It doesn’t take a genius to understand your motive. “Are you running from something?” I ask.

You look at me, eyes wide and lips pressed firmly together. You look near tears, but don’t dare to release a single drop as you nod. “Y-yes.”

I sigh heavily. This isn’t something I want to get involved in. I turned my back on people long ago. That’s why I came here, miles and miles from anyone or anything. That means you got lost and had been traveling for days, weeks maybe, on your feet. My vegetables were probably the first good meal you’ve had in a long time. No wonder you would risk staying around.

“You do realize how far away from anything you are, right?” I ask. “No one would ever find you out here.”

You stifle a cry and duck your head back down.

“You can’t walk out of here, either,” I grumble. “I suppose I’m stuck with you until you can.”

You looked back at me, wide eyes trying to figure me out. “Can you cook? Clean?” I ask.

“Y-yes,” you stammer again.

I nod, rising from my chair. “Then you can work off your debt to me while you get better. You owe me quite a few vegetables and apples, young lady.”

You slowly raise your head again, staring at me in disbelief. “Y-you won’t eat me?” you quaver.

“I told you, you’re not worth killing.” I place my hand on my chest. “My name is Vyre.”

You look at me, strangely quiet and timid, then turn your eyes down and nod. “I p-promise n-not to be a… a burden, Mistress Vyre.”

“Just Vyre,” I scold. “Once your debt is paid, you’ll be gone from here, so don’t get attached. I care not what you’re running from or why. I just want you out.”

You nod shakily. “Rest for now,” I grumble. “Nothing to do around here while it rains, anyway.”

Your fingers worry over the choppy ends of your hair. “I c-can cook.”

“I have soup on already. I’d rather finish it off than start anything new.” The look on your face confuses me, as if you’re scared I’m going to do something if you don't. “You can make bread later if you want,” I offer, and relief visibly sweeps over you.

Over the next few days you attempt to do chores. You polish some of my silver and clean the tinderbox outside, and I give you a walking stick so you can move around my home without having to rely on your injured leg. You hobble about, meek and scared and trying to keep as busy as you can, but you struggle with your leg injury. No matter what I say, it feels like you fear coming to a stop. I’m not sure what you’re running from, but in the back of my mind I keep thinking that perhaps we’re running from the same thing.

One afternoon you’re in the kitchen kneading dough. You’ve been making bread steadily for the last couple of days as you keep adding to my soup, extending it longer than I expected to. You have your sleeves rolled up, and I can see scars around your wrists and up your arms. I have scars of my own, ones that I thought were bad, but yours strike me as wrose.

“Your bread is delicious,” I tell you. I’m unsure why I pay the compliment, and I suppose I just wanted to. “Keep up the good work.” I pat the top of your head, and the look you give me startles me. Your big eyes open wide, and for the first time I see no fear in them. You almost seem to smile, but the expression vanishes just as it arrives. I walk away, unsure how to take such a display.

The bread that evening is beautifully made, and it looks like you really put all of your efforts into making it an attractive loaf. You watch me expectantly as I take my first bite. I don’t like being watched like this, especially when eating. “You don’t have to worry,” I tell you. “It’s good.”

The ghost of a smile appears on your face again, but it refuses to materialize. “Th-thank you.” You begin eating, having waited for me to take my first bite before you do.

“Did you come from the north?” I ask you. “Judging from the way you make bread and extend the soup, that’s just what I assume.”

You nod. “You’ve wandered farther than I first expected, then,” I murmur. “How long have you been on your own?”

You shake your head. “I d-don’t know.”

“All that matters is that you never looked back.”

“Y-yes,” you reply quietly.

I take another piece of bread and dip it into the soup. “That I can understand.”

That evening you bring in the rainwater you collected in buckets and warm it over the fire, watching the flames peacefully for a moment. Then you turn and look at me. “Vyre?” you chirp. “W-would you like a b-bath?”

I shook my head. “I clean my scales with oil. Water dries me out too much.”

“Y-your scales are p-p-pretty,” you say softly. “R-red is my f-favorite color.”

I look up just in time to catch a hint of a smile, but you turn away quickly. I sigh, looking back down at the book in my hand. “Thank you,” I mutter.

Once the water is warm, you haul it back outside the cave, where you intend to bathe. Later, I hear quiet sobbing outside the door. I peer out the window and see you sitting beside the tub with your head in your hands, beside a discarded brush with a large clump of hair in it.

My judgement isn’t sound, because I find myself stepping out into the cave. You flinch and looked at me.Your eyes have been threatening to spill tears for as long as I’ve known you, but this is the first time I get to see them. “I’m s-sorry!” You bow your head, keeping your arms over your bare chest.

I kneel down beside you. “I can cut your hair, if you’d like. It will grow back.”

You raise your eyes, looking at me as more tears come. “It will be short for a while, but I think it will be better than what you’ve been dealing with.” I take your brush and clean it out. “The birds can use it to make nests.”

You sniffle as tears stream from your eyes. I don’t know why you weep so, but perhaps kindness is a rarity to you. I cut your hair very short, coming just below your ears. Your fingers sift through the locks on the ground, but your shoulders drop in relief. “Th-thank you.”

I pat the top of your head. “It was nothing at all.” With your bare back to me, I see the many scars there and on your shoulders. I’ve suffered some beatings in my lifetime, and I’m sure my back looks the same. But I was trained my whole life to suffer. I doubt you were. You turn your head, curious as to why I’m so still. “Come inside when you’re done. It’s getting cold. ” I stand up quickly and return inside, taking my seat back before the fire. Why is this bothering me? Why is your presence beginning to take hold of me?

You seem brighter after your haircut, as if a greater weight has been lifted from your shoulders. Your furtive smile blossoms across your face more often, and when it isn’t raining, you help me in the garden, although I insist on taking care of it by myself.

One evening, as you serve me dinner, you have a strange look on your face. “What’s the matter?” I ask.

“I c-can w-walk on my own,” you stammer, anxiously twisting your fingers together. “I sh-should leave in the m-m-morning.”

I find myself shocked at the idea. “Oh, right.” I clear my throat. “Of course.” I looked down at my food, and the thick slice of bread on my plate. “Where will you be going?”

“I’m n-not sure.” You sit down at the table.

“You’ll find your way.” I start eating.

You remain still, not touching your food or even lifting your hands to the table while I eat. You sniffle and take a stilted breath. “I w-want to st-stay h-here,” you spit out as confidently as you can.

I look up from my plate, setting my spoon down by the bowl. “This is no place for a young woman such as yourself. I’m here alone for a reason.”

“B-but…”

“No,” I say sternly. “I have enjoyed you here, but my mind will not be swayed. You can’t stay here. No good will come of it.”

You lower your head again. “You do understand what dragonborn are capable of, right? What sort of strength we have, what sort of damage we can inflict?”

You remain still.

“I am not your friend. I was never raised to be anything more than a predator,” I keep going on, hoping to scare you. “I am a hunter and assassin. Someone like you would be nothing to my abilities.” I pick up my spoon again. “That’s why I am out here. So I don’t get used again.”

“M-me too,” you whimper.

I looked at you, seeing your eyes filling with tears again. “I d-don’t want to get used a-again. N-no more!” You slam your palms down on the table. “I w-would rather d-die here!”

I take a slow, purposeful breath, then lay my arms out on the table. “Are you asking me to kill you?”

Tears gush down your cheeks.

“If you wanted to die, then why have you fought this entire time? You could have died after getting caught in my trap, but you escaped. You ran all the way from the north. You don’t want to die.”

You look at me, fear and desperation in your eyes. “Don’t look at me like that,” I sneer. “Don’t try to beg me for something I can’t give you. Go south and follow the rivers. You’ll find kindness along the way that is better than mine.”

You lower your head again. “I’ll give you a dagger before you go,” I say simply. “So you can protect yourself.”

“O-okay. Th-thank you.”

That night, you lie quietly in your bed, your back turned and the blankets pulled up around you. I go outside, deciding to take a bath like you did, but with my own special blend of oils. I strip down, rubbing oil into my scales before wiping it away with a cloth. Their color becomes much deeper as I clean them, and flecks of gold appear as I wipe away the dust and debris from my scales.

“C-can I h-help?”

I look up to find you in the doorway, watching me quietly with a shy gaze. Your cheeks are red and your eyes bright. I turn and look at the bottle of oil. “You should be asleep.”

You ease out of the door. “I w-want to h-help.”

I sigh and hand the bottle to you. “My back is hard to reach.”

You take the bottle and move behind me.

“A little goes a long way, so be careful.”

I feel your warm hands upon my back, like smooth, sun-dappled river rocks. I close my eyes, trying to ignore how much my body aches for this touch. It’s been so long, and yet I ignored the yearning for palms along my back, fingers brushing against the base of my tail. I’m bothered by how much I like your hands. “Y-you’re shaking,” you chirp.

“That’s enough.” I stand up. “I’ll take care of the rest.” I felt heated to my core, and my aching skin burns for you. “Go back to bed.”

“B-beautiful,” you whisper. My tail shakes, and I fear looking back at you.

“Y-you’re beautiful,” you murmur again. You stand and place your hand upon my arm. “Vyre.” Your voice is like honey, and I can’t stand it.

“Go back to bed,” I whisper shakily.

Your hand slips down my arm and takes hold of mine. “Y-you too.”

If I look at you, I’ll be lost. “It’s late.”

You gently tug my hand. “It is.”

I chuckle softly and turn to look down at you. You’re smiling, the first time I’ve ever seen one directed at me. You look sweet and shy, but also ravishing. I touch your cheek, pushing aside your hair so it isn’t stuck against your skin. “I can’t,” I say in a cracked voice.

“I w-want to th-thank you,” you say through trembling lips. “F-for being s-so kind.”

“I don’t want thanks. Not like this,” I shake my head. “Go back to bed. You don’t owe me anything anymore.”

You step closer to me, placing your hand on my chest. “I w-want to.” Your fingers stroke down to my stomach. “Y-you’re so b-beautiful.”

I grab your hand and lift it away from me. I gaze into your eyes, seeing a spark of fire inside them I’ve never seen before. Your smile is soft and honest, and begs for more than my gaze.

I let you lead me back inside. We sit together on my bed as strip away your clothes. You press your soft body against mine, letting your skin become slick with oil. You kiss my shoulder, and I shudder at the soft touch. Your breasts press against my side, and the dark thought of them between my teeth makes me quiver. “W-would you l-like more?” you whisper.

“I dare not ask,” I whisper back.

You kiss my shoulder again, pressing your whole body against me. You feel so soft and warm, my head is swimming. “I’m n-not scared.”

“You should be,” I rasp. Your lips press to my cheek and neck, and I feel the searing heat of your little wet tongue against my throat. It makes me shudder with weakness. The low moan you utter is like a knife through my ribs, and I take your shoulder and force you back. “Let me breathe,” I growl.

Your smile was inflaming, making me want to bite your lips. “I w-want to m-make you feel g-good.”

“You’ve hidden this part of yourself all this time. Or are you trying to act to keep my favor?” I push you down onto the bed, your supple body on display for me. Parts of you glow from the oil on your skin, making you look decadent.

“I l-like you, Vyre,” you whimper.

Words have never wounded me so much. I grab hold of one of your breasts and squeeze it, palpating it in my hand until I see the rouge of your cheeks turn dark and hot. I dip down, taking the erect nipple into my mouth. I nibble it, torture it, lapping it with my tongue. Your moans come out honest but quiet. I lift my head, baring my sharp teeth to you. “I could rip out your throat here. I could bite into your thigh and watch you bleed to death. Either would not be my first time.”

You reach up, touching my face. “I t-told you I w-would rather d-die here.”

I’m weaker than I thought. “Why?” I hiss.

Your smile returns, sweeter than before. “Y-you.”

I kiss you, with no teeth and no anger. I just kiss you to feel you press closer to me. Your body is so soft and warm, it’s making me drunk. You move me easily, like hot clay under your palms. You open me up, placing yourself where I’m not ready, but extremely willing.

“So pretty,” you breathe. “L-like a ruby.” Your smile vanishes against my skin, kissing my thigh and nuzzling against my core. Your lips part, and I feel their heat and wetness against me. I open for you, taking your tongue inside me.

“Oh, gods,” I gasp.

You moan against me, your hands massaging my thighs and mound. Your tongue feels like fire inside me. Your fingers joined along, curling deeply to where they are most wanted. Your moans grow louder, vibrating along every nerve inside me. You make me want to cry and rip my sheets to shreds. You touch me, arousing me to heights that make me breathless and dizzy. You take my soul from me, carefully placing it back with a kiss on my lips.

“B-breathe.” You stroke my cheek.

“Oh, gods,” I whimper. I can’t feel my tail or my legs.

You kiss me again, laying your head upon my chest as I recover. I’ve never faced something as dangerous as you before. I fall asleep with you draped over me, my body weak and my mind empty. I should have stayed awake and repaid your efforts.

When I do wake, I find myself alone. You’re no longer in bed, and there’s no sign of you anywhere. My heart is racing, but my mind is calm. I told you to go, urged you to. You were simply repaying what you perceived as kindness. My heart wants to run and chase you down to bring you back, but my mind tells me it’s the end. I rise from bed, legs still weak, inner thighs bearing marks of your teeth and kisses. I look around my home, and it seems cold and dark.

I get dressed, planning to tend to my garden after the most recent rains. I’ll never see traces of you there again - no missing vegetables, no footprints to track. This is fine. I’ve been alone before, and now I’ll be alone again. I open the door at the mouth of the cave and look towards the tub where I bathed last night. The bottle of oil is still there.

I leave the cave, stepping out into the morning sun. The air feels crisp and cool, heavy with the scent of wet earth. I also smelled something hot and coppery - blood.

And there you are in the garden, sucking your finger and cursing at a blackberry bush. You’re still here. “I w-wanted berries for breakfast,” you mutter guiltily.

I nod, unsure if I should move. “That’s fine.”

You stand up, dust off your knees and smile shyly at me, your cheeks blooming a bright red. I’m relieved to see you, but scared to touch you in case this is a dream. You make us breakfast, mashing the berries to spread over the toast. I lick your fingers, remembering how remarkable they were last night. The blackberries mix with your blood, and the flavor makes me delirious.

“A-are you feeling a-alright?” you ask.

I look into your eyes, my head spinning. “I don’t know.”

You smile and kiss me, taking me back to that wonderful bliss from last night. “I’m n-not afraid of you.”

I cup your cheek in my hand. “Why not?” You don’t answer me, but we both know the answer.

I take you in my lap after breakfast, and your naked body feels so much more vulnerable than last night. I cup your breast in my hand, slowly dragging my claws along your skin. Then I place them inside you, feeling how hot and wet you are. Your voice is soft, elated. I touch you until you can no longer stand it. Your body trembles, and you leave a puddle on my thigh. I can’t leave you alone, so I splay you across the bed, devouring your quivering mound. Your cries become so loud, I cannot hear the thunder that brews outside. You taste like earth, like fire, and I drink you down until your thighs tremble and you roll yourself away from me. I kiss your rear, your back, and run my hands along your skin until I am curled against you.

Your smile is docile and pure sugar. You look up at me, delighted and warm, tears in your eyes. “Stay with me,” I whisper.

“I w-will,” you croon back.

You remain by my side, although I can’t get rid of the fear that I’ll hurt you. It isn’t until winter, when the warmth of your body is most needed, that I realized I’ve not been scared in months. You found an injured dog a while ago, and she had given birth to pups just before the snow. One evening, after collecting firewood, you’re happily cuddling with the puppies. Your smile is so warm, it makes me melt, but it also makes me wish I was the cause of it.

“D-don’t pout,” you giggle.

“I wasn’t.”

“Vyre,” you coo.

I look at you holding the wiggling puppy. “I wasn’t,” I insist.

You place the puppy back with its mother and come to my side. “It must be cold out there. Let me warm your hands.”

I smile, placing my hands around your soft waist. “It was cold.”

You hold me tight, snuggling up to me. “I love you.”

Another knife between my ribs. You’ve placed many of them there. “I love you,” I whisper back. “That’s why I risk the cold.”

You kiss the inside of my palm. “That’s why I love you most.”

#monster fudger #monsterxhuman #dragonborn #dragon girlfriend #monster lover #monster romance #momolady monsters

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introloves · 4 years

Text

🦷: Okayy but daddy Iwa leaving his baby with mattsun while he’s gone like bo does and mattsun taking such good care of iwa’s little girl,,and if mattsun can’t Iwa will reluctantly leave her w makki who’s so much meaner 🥺🥺

— dom! matsukawa + sub space + teasing + mentions of pain + predator/prey dynamics + slight hair pulling + mentions of fear + masochist reader + size kink + dacryphilia + big dick + heavy breath play + choking + praise + creampie + petname (bunny) + f! reader

— word count: 2.6k

he looked her over, unable to stop the smirk from forming. shy eyes made his chest swell in a primal swirl of lust. already so sweet for him, and he hadn’t even touched her yet.

“y/n.”

“hm?” your voice answered back in a small hum, cute and shy. he couldn’t help but let a shiver crawl up his back at the thought of how you’d sound broken and whining just like that for him.

but he was being too forward, no wonder why iwaizumi had asked to leave you in his care- you were dangerously alluring.

you were here to be taken care of, and what he wanted might not match up to what you wanted, he’d test the waters first.

grabbing your hand gently, making sure to not startle you all too bad- letting you know it was okay, there was nothing to be embarrassed or shy about; the plan was set out, in detail- by hajime.

the thought of leaving you alone while he joined his team out of the country wasn't something he liked to entertain- you were supposed to be taken care of at all times, even when he couldn't. that's why this arrangement was drawn up. it was something mattsun could do.

he led you to his room, motioning to where the bathroom, kitchen- where all the necessities were. his house was small; enough for him and now for you, it was where you would be staying at… and you were grateful.

“its not much… but its comfortable.” the tone and smoothness of his voice eased you further- the slowly oscillating timbre of notes made you melt.

you nodded, smiling a little, bending your head in appreciation.

it squeezed at his heart, the way you were so polite and kind, a sweet little thing he couldn’t believe belonged to iwaizumi.

it made sense, you’d made the comment on how you liked men that could protect, men who would put you on your knees by just a look… and he so deeply hoped he fit that criteria.

in private, you knew he was- he was tall and big, taller than your hajime, maybe not as thick, not as built, but his presence still made your knees shake.

you let yourself watch him from the corner of your eyes, watching him walk forward, settling down the bag he’d taken from you on his bed… in all honesty, you’d seen his couch- and someone as big as him would not have a pleasant time sleeping on it… but you didn't know where he was going to draw the line.

you’d hope he’d stay, hope he’d cuddle you and make you feel good… sleeping alone was not familiar to you.

being alone was an ugly thought, it was exhausting and horrible. being spoiled made you greedy and needy- all in one. a pretty thing iwa was proud of, always showing you off.

you needed someone, and you wholly agreed to be pretty and good for issei.

“okay bunny.” he sighed, sitting down at the edge of the bed, looking at you.

the petname sent little prickles of heat down your back, making you dizzy and complaint, it triggered a nice and comfy haze clouding your mind.

“time for bed?” he asked, watching the slow blink of your eyes, chest rising and falling slowly- slipping into that sweet headspace.

oh…

iwaizumi really had you trained well.

he was going to have so much fun with you.

“what do you want, pretty girl.” issei questioned, leaning forwards elbows on his thighs; looking at you like a good meal, something he was very eagerly waiting to take a bite out of- lower lip glistening with saliva as he passed his thick tongue over it.

it made you take a step forward, a pretty bunny falling right into the claws of something big and mean- being devoured came easiest for you.

“take care of me.” you whispered, placing two shaky hands on his shoulders. broad frame, nice and sturdy, warm and strong. everything a little bunny like you needed for security.

his lips curled into a pleasant smile, canines glistening under the light of his room, smirking at your sweet words.

“ah- you want me to take care of you?” mattsun’s voice was laced with inquisition, wanting to hear another note of confirmation.

“yes please. haji said you would.” you responded, pouting at the slight teasing, but quickly warming up when those hands of his wrapped around your sides. it felt real easy, tugging you onto his lap.

“oh, bunny i will.” he assured, thinking over his next words.

“i just… you know the difference between me and iwaizumi… right?” there was small apprehension, felt like he was trying to piece together words that wouldn’t scare you off. shaking your head slightly, they did everything but that- luring you in with the promise of something dangerous, something exciting.

it was really cute- he could hear your heart pound from where he was, watching your face scrunch up, leaning into him.

“if you want me to take care of you, i need to let you know- i’m a lot bigger than him.” matsukawa huffed, sliding the hold on your sides down to your hips, groaning at the warmth and softness molding under his palms.

“and i dont fuck like he does.”

the smooth timbre of his voice turned gravely, growling out those last few words, bringing your body to his- entrapping you in all of him. he let himself grace your neck, lips just barely touching- letting you back away at the challenge.

but you were a greedy thing, the small hint of danger electrifying every nerve in your body. thighs jumping around his lap, squirming.

he says it like a warning, but all it does is excite you. the promise of him fucking you doenst let you focus on anything else.

mattsun feels your squirming, sees the way you bite at your lips, pupils dilating as you watch him, wide eyes roaming his face.

he's the one who starts the grind, tightening the hold, shifting to sit back slightly; pushing you against the length already hard and heavy in his pants.

this is his favorite part, seeing the surprise- eagerly watching for the look of pure shock. maybe you're finally feeling the heavy severity of the situation, maybe it's a jolt of arousal that makes your eyes shake, lips parting in amazement at being sat on his big cock.

whichever one it is, it makes your head tip back, huffing out a tiny noise of surprise and want.

it feels so big, even now, just sat on his cock through his. pants and your bottoms and it's all just so-

“oh!”

throbbing cunt passing over a ridge, catching over your puffy clit, knowing it's the swell of his cockhead. it makes you weak, tipping forward, tugging at his shirt.

issei chuckles in response, warm hand traveling up your back, curling against your head. there's a tiny moment of reprieve- sits there, watching your shoulders tense up before he tugs.

it's gentle at first, admiring how you shape yourself perfectly for him, going limp as soon as he does, but just like you- he's a greedy man and pulls- back bowing against him. with clenched teeth at how you squirm, he hisses;

“what is it bunny?” what's got you makin’ those pretty sounds?”

there's already tears forming against your lashes, the feeling of your cunt freely gliding against the pool of arousal lying wetly right on your panties makes everything that more… exciting. if he's able to bring you to this state by just tugging at your hair… the thought makes you desperate or what else he could do to you.

“you! it's you ‘sei! don't want you to tease- take. care. of. me.” you mewl, exasperated at his actions.

he's so close- you can feel his cock pulse under him, and you want nothing more than to be split open.

but your sweet little tantrum simply makes him laugh, bringing your throat to his mouth, teeth grazing sweetly against the thrum of your pulse.

“little bunny… you’ve got some fight, hm?” he whispers, letting you go with a quick little bite- a reminder, something to let you know to calm yourself.

usually he’d take his time- reduce you into a mess of cum and tears and spit until you’re crying out for him, and even then he wouldn’t give you what you wanted. however, issei would play nice for now, knowing your little outburst was all due to the want for him. it made his heart thump loudly against his ribs.

“it’s okay- i’ll fuck it out of you.” mattsun groans.

you tense up at his words- the throbbing against the spot where he nipped keeping a heavy reminder, impatience didn't look pretty on you.

he lets a hand leave the warmth of your hips, thumb digging into the side of your cheek impatiently, keeping your head tilted to look at him- the tension in your scalp lessens and you're aware of the direction his other hand is traveling.

the sound of his belt clinking, button popping open, and zipper falling makes you squeak. whole body lighting up, pressing your cunt right against the hand working to release him from his pants.

“please!”

the word slips from your lips involuntarily, and once again, he lets the slip up go. there would be time to teach you to wait, to earn what he gives you.

using the grip he already has on your face, he picks you up, a show of strength tugging you up by your face to give his cock room to be released. your knees shakily hit either side of the bed around his body, hips tipping forward- giving him space, but even then, you feel the tip of his cock brush against your pussy.

a high, shaky sound of air leaving your lungs in a shocked whimper makes his cock jump heavily- your hands landing by your face as you stare, chest heaving- weight of his hand falls from your face, down to your neck, pressing you deep into the bed.

the thrum of fear peaks once more, exaggerating another gush of arousal, this time running down your ass- no longer caught by your panties.

“pretty.” is all he says, squeezing once, watching your legs jump. his thumb swipes up against your cheek to catch a stray tear. he wants to make a remark about your skittish muscles, working against you to tense up with every movement he makes, but the heavy lust burning in his stomach doesn't let him.

“breathe in for me- it’ll hurt less if you do.”

there’s sick pleasure watching you nod, so eager to do what he says just to be hurt in order to take him all. he wastes no time in order to tug your bottoms off, impatiently working with only one hand, all while he keeps his eyes on your face. its all a frenzy of want.

he wanted to take you like an animal, wanted to make it hurt- wanted to break your soft mind, but he resists. it’ll be fine for now, the time to play how he wants could happen at a later time.

the head of his cock meets heavy resistance, slickened by the never ending stream of arousal leaking out of your wanting hole- it makes it a little more bearable. you such in a breath, just like he says, tongue heavy with the weight of it playing against your cunt.

he was right, he was right and now your heart beat loudly in your chest at the feeling of him pressing in more and more- he was bigger than your hajime, and it hurt.

it hurt so good.

“m-more!” you gasp, impatiently waiting with the slow pace he's taking you. hands clawing at the hand still wrapped firmly around your throat, legs thumping over and over on either side of him.

it takes him back, gasping at the slight tilt of your hips seeking more of him, his eyebrows pinch together in amusement and surprise.

you were proving to be more of a challenge than he thought- but he did as he was told for now, shifting down to really pin you.

“pretty girl, so dirty- you keep surprisin’ me.” he grunts, watching your body lie pliant, mouth hanging open in a desperate and now silent plea.

he counts to three before lessening up, blinking at the way you shoot up to take a heavy gulp of air.

“good bunny.” he seethes, trying to keep up with your greedy cunt, fluttering around him as he pushes in and in and in.

its so good, nails digging into the arm still trapping your upper body down onto the bed, drooling as your tongue lulls out.

you’re hot and wound up, pooling sweat dripping down against your clothes, smushed against his mattress.

the first slam of his hips inside makes you sob, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of all the tension leaving your body, a reaction to being fucked so hard. you can feel him make a noise of appreciation at that, pushing his weight- using it to fuck you down onto the bed.

“so good- such a greedy pussy, only satisfied when it's being pounded like this- hm?”

issei emphasizes his words with an increasing tempo, barely giving himself time to breathe, drunk on your cunt- the pretty sounds you're making, the way your eyes have rolled to the back of your head, small hands no longer grabbing at his wrist.

you're creaming around him, already cuming at just mintues of being given what you so desperately begged for.

“issei! ‘sei!”

it sounds so pretty leaving your mouth in this breathy pitch and it's getting to him, the building orgasm crawling towards him at a rapid pace.

he releases the hold on your neck to grab desperately at your hips, arching your back against him while you jolt, body receiving the shock of his pistoning hips- slapping heavily onto your thighs, mixing with the loud squelch and squeal singing from your body.

you can’t will your muscles to contract any longer, already cuming once more at the change in position, weakly crying out his name- sweet and fucked out, babbling the consonants of his name over and over again.

“good girl- c-cuming so pretty for me.” he pants, teeth clashing together as he pushes past the resistance of your walls once more, sheathing his cock inside in a final attempt to make it hurt. he knows he’s successful when you lift up off the bed, choking out a warbling scream.

his body seizes, matching the feverish way you’re spasming around his body.

the heated, spurt of cum inside your cunt comes in thick ropes and you exhale in response, turning your head left to right as you receive it all- take it all in your battered, swollen walls.

he stays right where he stops, head hooked down, eyes looking at the cream of cum splattered on the stretched out lips of your cunt.

“fuck.” he gasps, slowly coming back from the overwhelming burst of pleasure.

“are you okay?” matsukawa asks, eyes softening at the way you slowly open your eyes, blinking hot tears from your lashes.

you cant respond verbally just yet, giving him a nod, a small tilt of your head before dropping your legs- finally relaxing.

he sees why you need this every night, you're glowing- covered in sweat and a sweet smile playing at your lips.

“so good- thank you issei.” you sing, already ready to sleep- and with the almost devious curl of your lips, he swears you- the sweet bunny he brought into his home was more predator than prey.

“play with me some more... later- please.” you hum, shivering at the globs of cum cooling against your stretched cunt, all before you sigh and close your eyes, looking for that sweet sleep.

matsukawa stays up a bit later, giving iwaizumi a quick text- asking if you would ever truly be satisfied, and the response he gets sends a prickle of heat curling against his neck-

fuck her unconscious or else she’ll keep wanting more.

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wri0thesley · 3 years

Note

Ok ok so one of my biggest dreams for the longest time has been gentle yet spicy facesitting the 4taro so I'd like to request that! Thank you and congratulations on the 5,555 Nat!!!

savouring - jotaro x reader (1.4k)

warnings: afab reader, no pronouns. face-sitting. nsfw, minors dni!

Jotaro’s hands feel so big on your thighs, as he urges you to straddle his chest. You look down at him, lip bitten; his eyes are almost black, blown wide, his hair (free from his hat, for once) spread out in dark curls over the pillow. He sees you looking at him and his eyebrows furrow, his lips barely tilting; you recognise it as Jotaro’s way of smiling, and heat rises to your cheeks.

His chest is broad enough that your straddle makes an aching stretch in your legs. Everything about Jotaro is huge; his hands, his chest, his thighs . . . as well as . . . Well. If you chanced a glance behind yourself, you would see the bulge in Jotaro’s underwear that made it very obvious how big he was there, too.

“You okay?” He asks, gruff, with a dusky flush on his cheeks. He’s not the kind of guy who smothers you with affection and kindness and checks up on you every single moment, but that doesn’t mean he’s not caring. Your own hands cling to his shoulders as you take a slow, careful breath.

“Just nervous, I guess,” you tell him, feeling self-conscious at the way that his eyes graze your body. There’s hunger in his gaze, yes – but it’s hard not to feel self-conscious around Jotaro. Even without taking into account what he looks like, you’re currently straddling him in a penthouse suite at the Morioh Grand hotel, a place of luxury that is costing him more than you’d really like to think about--

“You haven’t got anything to be nervous about,” Jotaro says, his voice very deep and simple. The hands on your thighs slide up, curving over your hips, his thumb gently brushing your waist. “I won’t hurt you.”

“I—I know,” you say, squirming; your bare sex presses against his hard chest, and you wonder if he can feel that you’re wet. If he can, he’s polite enough not to say anything about it. His thumb circles you soothingly. “I’m not scared of you hurting me--”

A quirk to his lips, again. One that makes you feel all hot and bothered, your heart feel like it’s going to burst right out of your chest. The look in his eyes is impossible to read as anything but bare-faced hunger.

“You’re not going to hurt me, either.” That’s simple, too; Jotaro doesn’t gloat about his strength, though you know how much he’s withstood (and his body is littered with the scars to prove it). “I wantthis.”

There’s that desire leaking into his tone again; a rough vein of need running through it. He pulls you forward a little, his eyes not leaving your face for a minute.

“Please,” he says to you, and how are you supposed to resist him when he’s so polite? When his words are so dark, shivering with suggestion? “I want to taste you.”

How are you supposed to say no to Jotaro speaking so plainly – to his firm grip guiding you to place your knees over his shoulders, spread your legs wide enough that your pulsing sex is revealed to him in all of its full, sopping wet glory? He breathes deeply, letting your scent linger in the air.

“You’re beautiful,” he rumbles low. You look down at him, seeing that the flush on his cheeks has not subsided in the slightest. You’re not exactly surprised by that; compliments aren’t exactly his style. But the fact that he’s able to look up at you from the angle he’s seeing you at and still say that to you--

“You’re getting soft,” you say to him, and he laughs. The sound is still rare and precious, despite how long the two of you have been an item; warmth suffuses you.

“Only for you,” he mumbles, and urges you down to rest yourself over his mouth completely and be quite literally sat on his face. “C’mere--”

The first slow lap of his tongue makes you gasp. It’s hesitant, but not exactly shy; the muscle is wet and flat but firm. Your thighs squeeze around his head almost by themselves, surprised by how intense the sensation is in the new position. Your hands reach out to steady yourself on the headboard of the king-size bed; if Jotaro’s first lick on you feels like that, you know you’re not going to be able to keep your balance through more intense stimulation.

“You taste good too,” he mumbles, pulling back to press the words into your inner thigh along with a kiss. The vibrations of his words send an ache through you, a low curl of tension making itself known in the very pit of your stomach. He doesn’t let you respond, immediately going back to lapping at you.

It’s a slow, exploratory kind of motion; Jotaro’s tongue delving between your slick folds, letting the taste of your arousal soak into his mouth. The firm press of his tongue against the delicate petals of your cunt has you clenching fingers around the edge of the headboard, your head swimming in foggy pleasure.

You can hear a panting noise, and you realise that the panting is you, responding to everything Jotaro is doing with his mouth by breathing shakily and gulping down air. It feels so good. Every swipe of his tongue sends electric sparks through you, warmth flooding you entirely. Your fingertips tingle, the way that Jotaro is eating you out spreading to every part of your body.

That’s nothing, though, compared to the feel when his tongue traces your entrance and thrusts up. It’s neither as firm nor as big as his fingers or his cock, but the flexible muscle exploring your inner walls and fucking you gently is still enough to have you moaning out his name, feeling sweat dampen your brow. Jotaro’s tongue massages your inner walls, somehow still knowing exactly where to brush to get you to feel like you’re about to come apart on his face.

He pulls his tongue out, leisurely, slow – guides it back over your sex, his breath ghosting hot on your slickened cunt, before he flicks it quickly out over your clit and you feel yourself tighten, thighs clamping about his head again.

“J-jojo,” you whimper. You wish you could fist your hands into his hair, but if you move yourself from the headboard you know you will simply fall flat on your face. The feelings that Jotaro’s tongue is eliciting has you all hot and needy and trembling; your legs will give out, you know it, if you do not keep yourself anchored.

He makes an ‘mm’ noise of both pleasure and understanding that vibrates through you, your spine tingling. You want to kiss him; but all you can is stay there, sat on his face, as his tongue continues to play with your clit. He gradually ups the pressure; alternating between flicking with the tip and lapping slowly over it, your entire body a mass of sensation. You’re aware you’re squirming on his face, trying to get him to go harder, faster, meaner--

And Jotaro delivers. He senses the way your body is moving and makes good on it; his tongue getting quicker and rougher. Your clit is swirled and played with as the coil of need inside of you is pulled tighter and tighter and tighter, your thighs and knees squeezing so hard around his head it’s a wonder he doesn’t pass out from suffocation.

And then, he does something with his tongue that’s just right, utterly perfect, and your world comes apart around you as your orgasm washes over your body. Heat and need and pleasure rolling over you in wave after wave, your panting turns into wailing – and Jotaro clings to you through it, carefully and gently rolling his tongue over the bud to guide you through your shuddering aftershocks.

You’re trembling and useless as he helps you slide down his chest, his face all glittering with your wetness. He pulls you down to smooth a kiss against your mouth, hungry and heated, the taste of you still lingering on his lips; and he’s gentle, helping you dismount, pressing you to his side.

“W-where did you learn to do that?” You breathe, as Jotaro pulls you in against him. He’s firm, and you cling to him; warmed and comforted by his familiar sea-salt scent and the feel of strong arms wrapped around you. Jotaro isn’t good with words, but his body always seems to say ‘this is where you belong’.

“Hmm,” he rumbles against you, nosing against the junction between shoulder and neck. “Not sure. Think I could do with some more practise, if you’re up for it.”

You sure are.

#jotaro x reader #jotaro kujo x reader #jjba x reader #jotaro smut #not sfw #writing #5555 event fic #jojo postin #jotaro kujo #afab reader #neutral pronouns

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miekasa · 3 years

Text

love talk

+ pairings: eren yeager + (fem) reader

+ genres and warnings: it’s not important that eren is a tattoo artist i just wanted to share bc i gave him tattoos here :’), fluff i think, smut/nsfw content, if you see a hint of eremin then no you don’t </2

+ word count: almost 2k, sickening innit luv

+ notes: yeah, still thinking about eren speaking german during sex bc he’s losing his mind hehe. i suppose this is the… softer version. might post another one later, who knows. and yes, i did almost name this pussy talk.

Unbeknownst to him, Eren Jaeger speaks three languages.

The first two are obvious, but English is his preferred language; the one you’ll find him speaking most often. It only makes sense, seeing as it’s what the overwhelming majority of people, media, and signs spew at him.

The second is more reserved; something you might assume given his name, but not know for sure unless you asked, or stuck around long enough to catch him rambling excitedly to Armin in German, with broken slang phrases of English interspersed. It’s fascinating—cute, moreover—the way he stumbles back and forth between both tongues; and the difference in tone between them. You’re not sure if your own bias is peeking through, but you’re certain Eren and Armin both sound a little… meaner in German; more sarcastic, at the very least—and you wouldn’t be surprised to find out they were talking shit the whole time.

Though, there is a special, reserved intonation to his mother tongue that shows itself when Eren’s around you. It doesn’t seem to be by choice—gone beyond comprehension that he’s forced to revert to grunted expressions and curses in a language foreign to his surroundings. You assume them to be curses; you never can confirm, and Eren seems to not even be aware of his switching in the heat of the moment, can never quite recall what he was saying to you.

There are times when he’s reduced to mere sounds, no comprehensible words between the hundreds of thousands he knows—only guttural moans, and breathy sighs, and he seems to not even be able to understand himself. You have to admit, it’s a bit of an ego boost to be able to fuck your boyfriend stupid in two languages.

And at first glance, Eren doesn’t seem like the type of guy to know about anything outside of himself. He doesn’t seem like the full-sleeve, three ear piercing, tattoo artist kinda kid; but Eren Jaeger speaks the language of pictures, of symbols, of images, that he is able to decipher and give meaning to upon creation. He’s got a penchant for art, and a vision bigger than himself, so it’s only right that he takes his knowledge and applies it in its most permanent form. The tattoos are more than a hobby for him—they’re an extension of himself, his art, his language; and his body is the only canvas fit enough to capture them.

So, here, with Eren laying on his back, chest exposed, arms bent for his hands to rest against your waist, you get to see the culmination of all the words and all the pictures, from all the languages he’s deemed important enough to find a place on his skin.

“Do all of your tattoos have a meaning?” you question, reaching your hand up to trace over the delicate waves that ride along his right collarbone.

“No,” Eren winces when you move—just enough of him to feel an ounce of friction inside of you, but not enough to give him what he wants. He wiggles himself a bit, desperate for something, “Not at all.”

It makes you chuckle, with a sort of disbelief, at both his words and his actions, “You get things tattooed on your body that don’t mean anything to you?”

Eren lets out a shaky breath, followed with a boyish smile. He blinks at you slowly, lids fluttering and hands gripping tightly at your body, “Learned that not everything has to have a deep meaning to want to keep it around,” he tells you, right palm moving to venture over your tummy, and up your sides, “Somethings you just love.”

You don’t miss the lilt in his voice on the word ‘love,’ but you play it off, rolling your eyes at his deliberately sweet affections, and then, gently, your hips, “Pretty poetic for something with no meaning.”

“Yeah, well, Armin taught me that,” Eren grits, hands fastening themselves at your hips again.

“You talk about Armin a lot when we’re in bed you know,” you taunt him, moving your fingers to trace over more of the tattoos that litter his right shoulder, “Something I should know about?”

Eren shivers at the feeling—of your fingertips on his skin, and what he swears was an intentional clench around him, “You don’t seem to mind.”

You smile at him, enjoying the contortions of his face when you run your hands down his chest, palms pressed lightly against his pelvic bone. Eren bends a knee, but does he best to remain still, and you can’t help but to chuckle. He looks pretty when he’s trying his best.

“I’m greedy,” you tell him, raising your hips, and pausing in your words as you slowly lower yourself back on to him.

“Trust me,” Eren scoffs, a façade to cover up his reddening cheeks and shaky thighs, “I know.”

He tries to move his hips up, desperate for something more; for you to fucking move, but, you keep your hips perfectly still. Instead, you reach your arms behind you, and onto Eren’s thighs, cementing them to the bed. He groans, his hands sliding down to your own thighs, fingertips digging into your flesh.

“And you called me greedy,” you huff, amused, as Eren rolls his eyes beneath you. When you’re sure he’s not going to move, you bring your arms back around, palms splayed on his stomach, “Relax. This is what you asked for, isn’t it?”

“Honestly, in an ideal world, this would be happening when I was playing COD, not when I was already impossibly hard with morning wood. And with a lot less teasing on your part.”

You have to laugh—genuinely giggle—at Eren’s blunt honesty. He’s unintentionally charming; another linguistic skill he seems unaware that he’s proficient in. You can tell he doesn’t understand the source of your amusement, but the look in his eyes, the twinkle in his irises lets you know he’s too far gone to even care.

“Call it a lesson in self-control,” you say, moving your hands to his sides in time with a shallow grind of your hips, “Besides, I’m admiring you.”

Eren keeps his hands anchored on your thighs, shivering at sensitivity of his dick coupled with your hands stroking over his pecs, “Lesson fucking learning—babe, fuck, please—”

“Shh—not yet,” you coo, and reach to pull his arms off of you, leaving you with room to admire his sleeve. You take pity on him, holding his right wrist with both of your hands, before slowly beginning to bounce on him.

Eren squirms, his free hand reaching to grab at the flesh of your ass, eyes blinking open to watch his cock be buried inside of you. The relief is instant—for the both of you—immediate groans and shallow profanities slipping past your lips as you build a steady pace to ride him.

“Tell—tell me what this one means,” you question slowly, keeping your right hand around his wrist, but using your left to point to the tattoo; a stylized line art of crossed wings.

“Some shit about freedom,” Eren grunts, fingers twitching, “Fuck, babe—more, please, I’ll—”

Eren cuts himself off with a whine, and you hiss yourself, lifting your body all the way to the tip, before lowering yourself again at an agonizingly slow pace. At this rate, you can feel everything; every vein on his shaft, every twitch of his cock. You feel Eren deep inside of you, even see where the bulge outlines your tummy.

You still yourself for just a second, catching your breath, anchoring yourself on Eren. You’re pretty far gone yourself, but you want more; for yourself, and for him. You do your best to stay coherent, slowly grinding atop of him, questioning him about another tattoo on his arm, ignoring the way his palm grips at your bicep. It’s a small one, with detailed Japanese characters that you can’t understand, but appreciate anyway; it’s one of your favorites, and you ask Eren about its meaning, clenching yourself around him as punctuation to your question.

Eren sucks air between his teeth, left hand pulling back to run his fingers through his hair, a grunted word in German falling from his lips. You smirk, but let him try to answer you.

“I don’t fucken’ know,” Eren grumbles, head thrashing from side to side, “It’s really fucken’ hard to remember anything—shit—like this. S’fucking torture.”

“Hm,” you hum, not satisfied; eager for more of Eren’s love language, “Tell me something in German, instead, then.”

But Eren can only babble beneath you; sounds incoherent in either language—reduced to desperate whines and grabby hands at your thighs, waist, boobs—anything. You lean forward, letting go of Eren’s tattooed wrist, and reaching to ghost your fingers over his lips.

“Come on, Eren, you’re usually so good at it when we do this,” you taunt him, words coated in sweetness that distract you from keeping up your pace, “Just want you to talk pretty to me. Tell me something, baby.”

Eren’s eyes travel from your fingertips, up your arm, neck, and to your face. When he meets your gaze something shifts; eyes heavy with want, and bitter with dissatisfaction.

So, he reaches for your extended hand, laces your fingers together, “Something like what?”

You wrap your fingers around his, then do the same with your left hand, “Anything.”

“Anything?”

“Yeah,” you affirm with a smile, finally satisfied.

Eren grunts, bending his right knee for leverage before he flips you over, hands still intertwined, but now pinned over your head, harshly pressed into the pillows below. He buries his head into the crook of your neck; licking a stripe along your collarbone, where you’d teased him minutes before. Then up, up, up, your neck to the shell of your ear, retreating downwards to suck on the skin just beneath your ear, nipping with pointed teeth.

Eren keeps his weight on you, the length of his cock sliding over your slick folds while he bites angry, red blotches into your skin—a kind of impermanent tattoo of his own making on your body. The friction is good, but not enough, and you wonder if Eren intends on teasing you as long as you’d done to him; but, he breathes heavy breaths up your neck again, before mumbling a series of foreign syllables into your ear.

He hovers over your face, satisfied by the daze in your eyes; the slight openness of your mouth. It’s you who looks dumbstruck now, a foreigner to his ministrations; and for once, he’s in control with his second tongue.

“What—what does that mean?” you finally ask, squeezing your eyes briefly when Eren teases the tip just past your entrance.

Eren chuckles, airy, gritty, and cocky all at once. He pushes his cock inside of you, balls deep, only to pull out almost all the way, before leaning forward just slightly, so that his bottom lip grazes over yours.

“It means I love you,” he whispers, hips bucking forward, “Try to remember that, ‘cause I swear I’m gonna fuck you stupid, baby.”

#aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #eren jaeger x reader #levi x reader #aot smut #aot imagines #snk imagines #eren fluff

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