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#to every little event that took place
boxofthings · 2 years
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worst part of writing big ass fics is the pacing + timeline organization. also the logistics of certain events that goes on if you're writing about a slightly complex scenario because now you're stuck with researching how shit works
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benbamboozled · 2 years
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AU where Cass bops to Gotham a little earlier and runs into catatonic!Jason and the two of them become a unit.
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misc. daily life photos again .. for the every once in a while that I collect enough over a few months to actually make a photo set out of them lol
#Not sure how to caption every photo because you can unfortunately no longer caption photos so that text appears#under them when you view them. you can only add photo descriptions (which is more about literally describing#the image for people who can't see it or etc.). I wish they had the ability to have both captions and descriptions as both are useful for#different functions but it seems they took captions away entirely so. I guess I'll have to just number every picture and then talk about th#em in the tags or soemthing?? SO.. starting from top left to right --#image 1: blackberries BUT also if you look close.. there's a tiny little bug on them lol#image 2: little water droplets on the back of a leaf that looked cool.. love anything with tiny water orbs#image 3&4: a spiky fuzzy sort of caterpillar outside on a yardwork glove.. small friend#image 5: THIS is such a bad slogan!!! what a lie!!! I personally would LOVE to have a sandwich party! in fact I would rather attend a#sandwich party than a pizza party because it would be fun to sample a wide variety of sandwich platters with all different meats and chee#& breads & ingredients & etc. !! now I just wish I could go to a cool sandwich sampling party w a full buffet of various mini sandwiches :#image 6: a chicken sandwich I made myself at home. with swiss cheese >:3#image 7&8 : HHRGH it's a CAT and also bubble tea!!! AND is pastel teal! but alas.. it was like $20 and I didnt want to pay that but now#looking back on the photos slightly regret it lol. I think it's more because it's a brand name since the cat is some popular cat like hello#kitty or something. I didn't really notice that until later lol. I was just thinking 'OMG A CAT!'. I love all cats. brand or no brand lol#image 9: my single once a year trip to the drink place that has really nice garlic noodles. this time with beef? which was good too. And#the typical drink order of pina colada smoothie (i think it's coconut pineapple and strawberry?). plain matcha bubble tea (favorite and all#I ever get from anywhere). and a strawberry smoothie thing. I also usually get a coffee bubble tea but the place is like 50% of the time ou#of coffee for some reason so. hggh.. Which I know is like everyday food for some people but. I get food from places SO rarely that it's al#ays an event to take a picture about lol. Just cooking at home 99% of the time makes those trips for fancy food more special I guess#Id rather save the money/dont have much in the 1st place .& also am still a freak who hates using apps/dislikes shit like ubereats or etc.#I would literall NEVER get food delivered to my house under any circumstance unless I was dying alone inside on hospital bed rest with no#support system and no transportation and having food delivered to me was my last possible option. otherwise. if I want something so bad#I can just leave the house to physically pick it up myself without involving a middle man to the process and paying more. .. ANYWAY ghjgjh#image 10: BOY in BOX.. playing a new boardgame and he sits inside! rip to my big beautiful son. I miss him.#UpWords is a fun game though. It's similar to scrabble except you can stack the letters? interesting#Okay. that's all the pictures! Also for the record I do think it's a good thing to have image descriptions! I wasn't complaining in the sen#e that I wish they would get rid of them and bring captions back. more just I would like to have both preferrably. I liked being able to#caption things on the occasional post like this where the layout is better suited towards it.#photo diary
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year
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#listen. im just gonna rant abt something real dumb for a sec#the framing of missing 411 stories make me so annoyed. and if u dont kno. missing 411 stories are focused on ppl who went missing in#national parks or just out in nature with no real explanation. i dont even kno why i watch these videos they just make me mad#theyre not all bad but like mother fucker do u not kno how easy it is to get lost in thr fucking woods?#theyre like: this person was an experienced hiker. they wouldnt have just done X#like no. fuck off. it only takes one bad move. one bad day. one unexpected run in and boom that's it#its not that crazy???? its not magic or bigfoot. its ppl getting confused or disoriented and panicking#i mean. obvously not in every case but fucking im like 99% sure its not spooky stuff. its just easier than youd like to think to get lost#my little sister got lost in the woods when she was like 6. she took a wrong turn on a hiking path and walked so far my dad almost turned#back bc he thought she would never get that far but there she was. one tiny blip in a big big forest and she was on a path#its so so easy to miss one tiny point out there. this also goes for places out in the desert#like sure its flat. how could a person get lost in an open space? but no fuck u. ive gotten lost walking along a 50m flat transect#i looked up and for about a minute i wasnt where i thought i was. the heat and not drinking or eating enough can really mess with you head#ugh. i dunno. one of my lab mates has done more like serious outdoors stuff. like not going back to civilization for weeks doing field#work out in Colorado. and he says there is something weird about being alone out there. like some places have a call to them. a temptation#compelling you to do things u kno r bad ideas. but i also pressed him and it seems to come from a lack of othet ppl watching you#like a lack of socal constraint enables the temptation to make reckless choices. so like i dunno it sounds more like a human thing#than the supernatural but like what do i kno? anyway. missing 411 stories make me man#mad. god. there was one i watched where the guys were like. hm they seem to happen around weird places like swamps. or around bad weather#events. so maybe these places or events cause disappearances to happen. like fucking no! do u hear what ur saying?????#the disappearences occure around places that are objectively difficult to search under conditions that delay search effort????? is ur brain#broken? the bad conditions make it hard to find ppl so u find less ppl and theyre marked as missing. jesus christ#anyway. its baffling to me. but i keep watching thr videos. probably bc i have nightmares about running into wild animals out in the woods#so im searching for like. god what not to do if i get lost in the woods. when what i shoukd do is watch survival videos rip#unrelated#ugh. also ive done some work in a national park where u would think its super super hard to get lost but our fieldwork got delayed bc ppl#had to go do search and rescue and the person was dead by the time they were found. i dont kno the details but like its a thing that#happens. its not that crazy#not to mention all the dumb fucks who fall of the cliffs every year down where i grew up. every fucking year. it happened to one of our#neighbors. he was at the bottom of this cliff for a whole day and survived. i dunno bad things happen everyday. u r not immune
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sirfrogsworth · 2 months
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How do you take a photo of time?
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I've been watching the track events at the Olympics since I was a wee lad. It was a tradition in our family. We'd gather around our ancient low-definition 19 inch CRT television and watch tiny blobs compete against other tiny blobs and root for our country.
It was a bit like watching YouTube on your phone in 144p.
Several heroes emerged.
Jackie Joyner-Kersee was amazing.
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You can't forget about Flo-Jo.
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And then the Olympics decided NBA players were allowed in the competition.
Which formed... The Dream Team.
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Was this fair?
Well... they won each game by an average of 44 points.
So... no. It was not fair.
Though it became more fair as time went on.
But, umm... yeah. The other teams looked like the Washington Generals and the US looked like the Harlem Globetrotters if they stopped screwing around half of the game.
But my absolute favorite Olympian was a runner named Michael Johnson.
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He was cool as heck.
For one thing... gold shoes.
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But he also had this crazy, upright, Tom Cruise-ish sprinting style that just made him look like a running robot on the track.
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And in the 1996 Atlanta games he just trounced EVERYONE. I mean, it wasn't even close.
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Yikes. Those losing blobs are probably really embarrassed.
Last night I decided to invigorate my nostalgia and watch the track events again. And I got to see one of the wildest races in history.
It didn't even last 10 seconds but it was one of the most exciting sporting events I've ever witnessed. Almost every runner won the race.
After I saw that initially, I was like... who the heck won???
Even in slow motion I wasn't sure.
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This was one of the closest finishes in history. There has never been a race where all 8 runners were within this margin.
The arena was silent as the winner was being confirmed. The runners just kind of paced around waiting for official word. My best guess was the Jamaican runner, Kishane Thompson. But then the loudspeaker announced Noah Lyles.
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The last tiny morsel of American pride burst out of me with a big "Wooooo!"
I forgot what it was like to be proud of my country. I wish it happened more often. But this young man, despite being last place in the first 3rd of the race, turned on the afterburners and won in a photo finish.
And that's when my inner nerd took over.
Because when they showed the photo finish image, it looked super weird.
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Why is the track white?
Why do all of the runners look all warpy like that QWOP game?
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So I went down a research rabbit hole to figure this out.
Photo finishes are actually fascinating. The first photo finish captured the end of a horse race in 1890. But that was mostly luck and timing. The actual photo finish mechanisms weren't used until 1937.
Originally they would film the finish line through a physical slit.
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And the first horsie head that appeared in that slit would be the winner. This technology ended a huge aspect of corruption in horse race fixing almost overnight.
But we have come a long way since then. And I'd like to introduce you to the Omega Scan 'O' Vision Ultimate.
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This slow motion camera sits fixed on the finish line of every race. The concept of the photo finish has remained remarkably similar to the 1930s approach. The camera sensor is specially designed to only record a vertical slit.
Only the finish line itself is actually captured.
And because it limits what it records to only that slit, it can capture 40,000 frames per second to get amazing temporal resolution.
So why don't the photo finishes just look like, well... this?
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That is because the camera takes a picture of time more-so than dimensional space. I guess it would be more accurate to say it *assembles* a picture of time.
As the runners cross the finish line, the camera combines all of the little strips of pictures into a single image.
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It's almost like if you tried to reassemble a piece of paper after it had been shredded.
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Imagine each strip of paper is a picture of ONLY the finish line, just at a slightly different point in time.
What if someone stopped on the finish line and didn't move... what would that look like?
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Once they got there, the same part of their body would just be repeated.
So the right side of the photo finish picture represents earlier in time and it just assembles the image strip by strip as time passes and you literally get a picture of time itself.
NEAT!
Okay, but how do they determine the winner from the photo finish?
I mean, that shoe looks like it is ahead of Noah Lyles!
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Clavicles!
The IAFF rules state the foremost part of the torso must cross the finish line first. And the endpoint of the torso is the outer end of the clavicle.
So if you get this bone across the finish line first, you win the race.
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Two more fun facts!
The start of the race is actually just as carefully timed as the end of the race. There are sensors in the starting blocks of each runner.
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The starting gun also has an electronic sensor.
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They have determined the fastest a human can react to the sound of a gun is roughly 100 milliseconds. So if you start running before 100 milliseconds they know you didn't actually hear the gun, you just got antsy and started running too early.
And the final fun fact...
Did you notice the Omega logo at the top of the photo finish?
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That isn't superimposed or added after the fact. That is captured by the camera.
But if this image is composed only of tiny little slivers, how did they get the Omega logo to show up?
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That is a little display. And it is synchronized with the Scan 'O' Vision Ultimate to show a little sliver of the Omega logo for each frame captured.
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So when the final image is stitched together, it looks like a cohesive logo at the top of the photo.
Pretty clever, Omega!
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soon-palestine · 6 months
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Hostages tortured to death. Parents executed in front of their children. Doctors beaten. Babies murdered. Sexual assault weaponised. No, not Hamas crimes. This is part of an ever-growing list of documented atrocities committed by Israel in the five months since 7 October – quite separate from the carpet bombing of 2.3 million Palestinians in Gaza and a famine induced by Israel’s obstruction of aid. And yet while the western establishment media has been chock full of the most lurid allegations of savagery directed against Hamas, sometimes with little or no supporting evidence, Israeli atrocities are excused or quickly forgotten. Accusations against Hamas are endlessly reheated to paint a picture of a supremely dangerous and bestial militant group, in turn rationalising the slaughter and starvation of Gaza’s population to “eradicate” it as a terrorist organisation. But equally barbarous atrocities committed by Israel – not in the heat of battle, but in cold blood – are treated as unfortunate, isolated incidents that cannot be connected, that paint no picture, that reveal nothing of import about the military that carried them out. If Hamas’ crimes were so savage and sadistic they still need to be reported months after they took place, why does the establishment media never feel the need to express equal horror and indignation at equivalent or worse acts of cruelty and sadism being inflicted by Israel on Gaza – not five months ago, but right now? Israel's torture of doctors, its sexual assaults of Palestinian women, it's leaving premature babies to die after its forces stormed a hospital. Where is the outrage? This is part of a pattern of behaviour by the western media that leads to only one possible deduction: Israel’s five-month-long attack on Gaza is not being reported. Rather, it is being selectively narrated – and for the most obscene of purposes. Through consistent and glaring failures in their coverage, establishment media – including supposedly liberal outlets, from the BBC and CNN to the Guardian and New York Times – have smoothed the way for Israel to carry out mass slaughter in Gaza, what the World Court has assessed as plausibly a genocide. The role of the media has not been to keep us, their audiences, informed about one of the greatest crimes in living memory. It has been to buy time for US President Joe Biden to keep arming his most useful of client states in the oil-rich Middle East, and to do so without damaging his prospects for re-election in November’s US presidential vote. If Russian President Vladimir Putin was a madman and a barbarous war criminal for invading Ukraine, as every western media outlet agrees, what does that make Israeli officials, when every one of them supports far worse atrocities in Gaza, directed overwhelmingly at civilians? And more to the point, what does that make Biden and the US political class for materially backing Israel to the hilt: sending bombs, vetoing demands for a ceasefire at the United Nations, and freezing desperately needed aid? Worrying about the optics, the president expresses his discomfort, but he carries on helping Israel regardless. While western politicians and commentators worry about some imaginary existential threat those brief events of five months ago pose to the nuclear-armed state of Israel, Israel is quite literally wiping Gaza off the map day by day, quite undisturbed.
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nanaslutt · 11 months
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gojo and vibrator overstim??? he pleasures u like crazy after u guys go to a party and he sees a lot of guys checking u out, but instead of taking it out on u he decides he just wants to worship u😭😭 and he makes u cum a lot of times dkslmds idk
When your girlfriend is too hot for her own good ft. satoru gojo x reader
this is the longest thing i’ve ever written i absolutely loved this prompt..
contains: fem reader, established relationships, whipped!gojo, jealousy, perv!npc’s, vibrators, sooooo much dirty talk, praise, like a ridiculous amount, body worship, cockwarming, overstimulation, mating press, multiple orgasms, no condoms in sight, breeding kink if u squint, squirting for the first time, domestic af
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
After Gojo finished zipping up your dress and hooking the clips at the top to secure it for you, he slapped your ass, grabbing the fat in his palms, “Goddd, i’m so fucking lucky,” he sighed dramatically.
Sliding his large hands around to the front of your body and cradling your hips, resting his head on your shoulder while he admired your current look.
Makeup applied just right, not a glitter of highlight out of place, hair styled in a way that gave his intruding eyes free roam to admire back of your neck, dress fitted perfectly to your body, accentuating every curve and dip of your perfect stature.
Opting to wear your shorter heels because knowing satoru, you two would be at this “party” for a very long time.
Everyone always wanted to talk to Satoru every time he showed himself in public. It was no suprise, considering his popularity throughout the jujutsu world from his incredible technique and strength; maybe a little from his blunt and childish personality too; and non jujutsu sourcerers we’re quick to swarm him from just his handsome looks alone.
Eyes that lit up any room, a perfectly symmetrical and slim face that looked like it had been hand chiseled from the finest stones, and his snowy white hair to top it all off. Satoru always getting asked the same question from girls and guys alike, flirtation laced in their voice when they spoke, “So, is that your natural hair color??”
His height sure didn’t help in making him any less invisible than he already wasn’t.
You two didn’t attend parties or anything of the sort too frequently though, usually only making an appearance at certain events when you had to.
This time it was a little different. Shoko had insisted on Gojo trying out this new club she started to frequent, rambling about how the ambience was just perfect; of course she didn’t fail to mention the high quality liquor they housed in the process.
Satoru hadn’t been to a club in a minute, since he started going out with you. Not seeing the need to anymore.
He only went to clubs before to let off steam after a particularly hard mission, letting some stranger dry hump him on the dance floor, or drinking some too-sweet non alcoholic drink with shoko at the bar, complaining about his day.
He never took any of the strangers home though, he just needed to get out of his head, letting the lights, shitty blaring music, and sweaty bodies overstimulate his mind for a night.
Then he found you. Perfect, sweet, little you. He found that he much rather would wrap his arms around you in the comfort of his quiet, familiar home, and lay on your breasts while you ran your fingers through his hair.
Nails raking comfortingly over his scalp as the stressors of his day melted from his brain. Why was he even stressed again?
See? This was a hundred times better than the club.
But when shoko was insistent, she was thoroughly insistent.
When you stepped through the thick doors of the establishment, guided by satoru’s comforting palm on your lower back, you couldn’t help but notice this felt a lot more lax than what you were expecting.
Music not overbearing, people mingling with each other, and weirdly seeing a lot of familiar faces in the crowd.
“Satoru, where are we right now? I thought this was a club.” you asked, tilting your head up at him while he led you in the direction of the bar, to get you something to loosen you up; he knew how you got antsy at these things sometimes.
“Ah, I didn’t explain very well did I?” he giggled, “Thisss,” gojo paused to splay his arm out in front of him, “Is where Jujutsu sourcerers come to relax!” that explains why you saw so many familiar faces…
“I think that’s why Shoko loves this place so much, people tend to stay away from her here..” pursing his lips pretending to think, “She can be quite intimidating when you know her..” he finished, shaking his head dramatically like he was trying to forget a scary memory.
“Anyways, how are you feeling sweet thing? wanna get a drink first?” Your handsome boyfriend asked you, hand still resting against your back as he gave you a little smile.
“Yeah I uh-“ looking over Gojo’s shoulder before continuing, “I think that blonde guy is trying to get your attention.” pausing your response to your boyfriend as you tipped your head forward, signaling behind gojo.
He turned his neck, shoulders perking up when his eyes focused on the man, “Yooo! How’s it goin!” Gojo waved his free hand at the man as he chirped cheerfully at him. “Was sent on a mission with him once when i was a third year, some ‘rival school bonding’ activity.” he explained.
“Looks like it worked,” you laughed, bringing your hand down to pat him on his firm behind, “You should go talk to him, it sounds like you haven’t seen him in a while.” Encouraging him, starting to slip out from his hold.
“You sure baby?” he asked, slightly pouting, not wanting you to feel awkward or neglected by yourself. God satoru was so sweet. You laughed at his antics before smiling fondly, reassuring him, “I’ll be okay toru, jus’ gonna go make myself at home on a bar stool.”
Gojo gripped your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he started off for his old acquaintance. Your heels clicked on the ground as you made your way over to the bar in the other direction satoru had gone off in.
You ordered yourself a drink, something sweet, and not too strong, just something to relax your nerves as you were now by yourself in a space you’ve never been before.
Just when you started thinking you should go make small talk with someone there, a tall man walked up to you, noticing the few buttons on his shirt undone. For some reason this made him look less intimidating; you were already walking around like there was a stick up your ass, so seeing someone look a little more laid back eased your nerves a bit.
He introduced himself, giving your figure a quick one over that you missed as you stuck your hand out for the man to shake, introducing yourself politely back.
The two of you got lost in conversation, talking about how harboring your jobs were, the only common subject you thought of to talk about with the stranger.
Gojo had made himself comfortable on the halfmoon sofa adjacent to the bar, conversing with a small crowd now, all catching up and laughing with each other.
After maybe half an hour or so, when the conversation was diverged away from him, he averted his gaze to you, watching you giggle at something the dark haired man said.
He didn’t recognize him, but he did recognize the hungry look he had on his face. The same one gojo had whenever he looked at you.
You looked completely oblivious to the man’s gaze as you continued ranting, the alcohol obviously having some affect on you, looking so relaxed while you talked to him.
Gojo couldnt take his eyes off of the scene in front of him for the life of him. People around gojo’s voices starting to become distorted at he channeled 110% of his focus onto you.
Giving a quick glance around the room and catching two guys staring at your ass. The way you were perched on the stool, body leaned into the counter a bit, making your back arch, poking your backside out in association, made you look incredibly seductive.
One of the men elbowed the other in the ribs, making him look at the sight he was witnessing; that of which being your body.
Gojo stared at them like if he tried hard enough, he could make them go blind with his mind.
Satoru would never in a million years stop you from wearing something you wanted out of the house; scandalous or not.
He loved seeing you feel good in your body, so if that meant wearing nipple pasty’s and a fishnet bodysuit out of the house? so be it, he would be in his rightful place on your hip the whole time.
But right now, he really wished everyone would stop looking at what was his.
He knew you looked good, you always did, but that didn’t give these sleazeball’s the right to oggle you like a piece of meat.
Bringing his attention back to you and the man you were conversing with, he noticed his hand had placed itself on the side of your stool, dangerously close to your thigh.
His lip twitched at the thought of his filthy hands touching your sacred body.
Giving a one over to the people around him once more and realizing that a lot more than just the man you were talking to and the 2 sluts objectifying you in the corner were passing glances at you.
“Gojo? you good?” His old acquaintance asked skeptically when he realized the veins looked like they were threatening to burst in gojos hands as he squeezed at the arm of the sofa.
Satoru stood up without saying so much as a goodbye to the people he was with, not caring about how rude or disrespectful he came off, as he quickly made his way over to your side of the room.
“Haha, I agree,” the man laughed a little to hard at something you said that truthfully wasn’t all that funny, “Mind if I get you another drink cute thing? Looks like you finished that one.” he flirted.
Finally picking up at his flirtations you started to reply, “Oh! uh.” uncomfortably shifting in your seat at the pet name, suddenly way to aware of his hand on your stool next to your leg. When did it even get there?
Looking over to where Satoru was supposed to be, eyes widening slightly, when the familiar face was nowhere to be found.
“Sorry cute thing, did i scare ya?” gojo mimicked the man across from you, staring daggers into his eyes with his intimidating orbs as he wrapped his arms around your body, large frame towering behind you.
“Satoru! jus’ figured you went to the bathroom or somethin’” you said, rubbing his hand that was placed on your torso with your thumb affectionately.
“Uh we were having a conversation.” the man interrupted your affections to one another, not listening to Satoru’s very obvious hints that you were not on the market. He figured he would make it a little more obvious for the strangers dense little head.
“Sorry buddy, i’m not feeling too well right now, so I need my cute little girlfriend to take me home.” emphasizing the nature of your relationship as he pouted his lip fakely at him.
“Not feelin good toru?” you asked, turning your neck around to look at him, face full of concern.
He felt his heart skip a beat at your worried tone. “Yeah ‘m sorry baby, you looked like you were havin a good time, but I really wanna get outta here.” overwhelming eyes glancing over the room, scaring off each and every last person’s ravenous stares on your body.
You stood up, smoothing out your dress as gojo fell into position like always, hand on the slope of your back as he crouched down to lay his head on your shoulder dramatically, trying to get you to baby him.
It worked, your hand coming up to ruffle his hair, “It’s alright toru, my conversation here was just wrapping up.” you referred to the man who unbeknownst to you was trying to come onto you throughout this whole interaction.
Sticking his tongue out childishly at the man when you weren’t looking, the two of you started for the door.
Gojo never got self conscious about himself, but you were different. He didn’t realize how much he really hated people looking at you like you were nothing but a body until you were in situations like these.
He wasn’t scared you would leave him for someone else but…ok maybe he was slightly scared you would leave him for someone else.
He’s the great Gojo Satoru!! The strongest sorcerer of the modern age!! People think he wasn’t aware of how obnoxious his personality got sometimes, but he was. He was aware of it being a turn off for many people.
He never thought that you would feel like that about him though, but seeing all of these admittedly attractive people who possibly had less annoying tendencies than him made him hold your body against him tighter.
“Are you feeling alright satoru? you never wanna leave these things early.” you asked, coming to stand in front of him when you finally exited the building. Standing on your tippy toes to reach his forehead, placing the back of your hand against it to feel if he was coming down with something.
Gojo relished in your warm hand against his soft skin, closing his eyes at the contact and groaning when you pulled away. “M fine, people just have fucking staring problems.” he mumbled under his breath.
“Huh?” you asked confused when he didn’t elaborate. Gojo grabbed your hand, dragging you in the direction of the car.
The walk was a short one. When you finally arrived, he opened got door for you, helping you into the car as he shut it behind you, walking around to his respective side of the car and sliding in before turning on the ignition, pulling out onto the dark street.
You rubbed your hand on his thigh comfortingly when he stayed silent.
“You love me right?” He spoke up, uncharacteristically insecure.
“You big dope, did you get jealous watchin me talk to someone else all night? You left me first remember?” hand coming up briefly to pinch his cheek, making him groan, before dropping back down to his thigh.
“Course I love you.” you admitted truthfully. 
“Ugghhhhh” gojo groaned loudly, slightly tipping his head back, being sure to keep his eyes on the road when he did so, “but he was practically fucking you with his eyesss.” drawling our his words childishly, pouting over at you.
“He what?” you asked in bewilderment.
“So oblivious baby, you need to be more careful, someone besides your big strong boyfriend might try to eat you up one day” grimacing slightly as he shook his head at your lack of picking-up-when-people-wanna-fuck-you radar.
“What kinda of weird things are you imagining in that head of yours, huh?” letting out a short laugh at his ridiculousness, retracting your hand back into your own lap.
“I’m seriousss,” he whined, glancing over at you, “He was lookin at you like he could fuck you better than I do.”
You almost choked on your spit at his words, “Satoru gojo!” you chastised at his bluntness.
Now it was his turn to drop his hand onto your thigh, squeezing the fat there when he spoke, “I’ll prove him wrong when we get home, gonna show him how much better I can make you feel.” He said, determination, laced in his voice.
“Satoru I don’t even remember his name.” You replied honestly, not denying that his promise sounded very intriguing though, still internally scoffing at his childishness in the current situation.
“Bet he remembers yours.” Making a point to slide his big hand higher up your thigh.
“Bet he memorized every inch of your body too, fucking undressing what’s mine with his eyes, who does he think he is.” gripping your thigh tightly as he got angry at his own words.
You gasped quietly, thighs squeezing together almost unnoticeably at gojos rough treatment of your leg.
"T-toru you're making stuff up again. You stuttered out, watching his jaw clench under the pressure of his teeth pressing tightly together inside his closed mouth.
Satoru ignored your words completely as he kept voicing his thoughts, "He wouldn't have any idea how to touch you like I do."
"Satoru, please." You begged, starting to feel yourself grow wet at his dirty words.
"What is it princess? The thought of me touchin' you getting you all excited?" Finally stopping his chatter about the unwanted man.
"Yes, please for the love of god stop talking." you gripped his wrist connected to his hand that was still tightly on your thigh.
"But I love making you feel good baby, wanna make you feel good all the time." He wines. You drop your gaze down to his lap and notice the massive tent in his pants, twitching every so often.
He really wasn't lying when he said he loves making you feel good. Figuring that part of the culprit for his huge boner was gojo's own words, working himself up for no reason. Not like you were complaining, as it was sounding like you were about get the best dick of your life soon.
Satoru had nothing to prove to anyone in your eyes, but in his, he had multiple faces burning into his retinas of people from the club that he wanted to line up in front of his king bed, and make them watch while he showed them how to properly treat someone like you.
"You make me feel so good satoru, dont think anyone's denying that, but ur makin' me feel all needy, please shut ur mouth till we get home. Don't know if I can take it." You whine, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand.
He giggled, retracting his hand from your thigh, opting to place his elbow agasint the center console, grinning as he shut himself up, cock still throbbing for attention against his zipper.
The rest of the car ride was silent, air palpable, and thick with the need you both had for each other. When the car came to a park in his garage, he calmly slid out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Walking at a steady pace over to your side of the car while you waited patiently, hands crossed in your lap as you swallowed harshly.
When he slung your door open his hand came into your view, placing your palm in his larger one, he assisted you out of the car, shutting the door behind you. He let you walk in front of him, trailing closely behind you.
Getting your keys out of your purse, you flipped through them, trying to find the one that led to satoru's garage door, shaky hands trying to steady themselves when you felt Gojo press himself against your back.
You felt his clothed boner press against your ass first, followed by his hands sliding over your lower stomach, eyes rolling back at the feeling. Then you felt his plush lips against your neck, leaving soft kisses down the sensitive skin as you fought your brain to work properly so you could insert the key into the door and get on with him.
He whimpered your name into your neck, followed by a "hurry" right when you successfully cracked the door open.
Gojo swiftly spun your body around, pinning you against the door and shutting it in the process, pressing his chest to yours as he assulted your lips with kisses, moaning against you.
He slotted his thick thigh between yours, forcing a whimper out of your mouth as he undid the hooks to your dress on the nape of your neck.
"Bedroom" you managed to get out in between kisses. He started removing his tie, quickly undoing the top 2 of his dress shirt buttons, and pulling you backwards with him when he started for the bedroom.
The light of the night seeping in from his floor to ceiling window wall being the only light the two of you had to be able to navigate through his large house.
You whimpered his name into his mouth, cursing when he slid your zipper down your back while you made your way to the bedroom. You kicked the fabric off your body and he leaned down to scoop you up in his arms, now having unobstructed access to your body.
Wrapping your legs around his hips, panty-clad cunt grinding into the rough material of his pants when you bounced along his body as he walked. "Need you," he muttered against your lips between kisses. while he reached a heavy hand around your back and expertly snapped off your bra.
Bumping you both into the wall quite a few times, easing the tension a bit and making you both giggle into the kiss, before he finally made it to the destination of his bedroom.
Plopping your back down on the bed, legs still tightly wrapped around his hips. Gojo started needily humping against your heat, hand coming down to undo his belt quickly.
"Fuck me satoru." you moaned into his mouth. Gojo had to slap himself mentally at that, gaining a sliver of his rational brain back. He had something he wanted to do before he fucked you good.
"I will baby, I will. don't worry" gojo left his promise all over your lips.
Finding his zipper with ease he slid the metal down, leaning back from your frame to try and slide his pants off, proving to be a challenge when your legs stayed wrapped tightly on his hips.
"Gotta let me go so I can get ready for you princess." He smirked. Your eyes were lidded, face flushed, and lips swollen from his lips assault. Breathing heavily you whispered out an "ok" before dropping your legs against the mattress.
"Such a good girl." Gojo praised, sliding his pants and boxers off in one swift motion, long curved cock flopping up against his abdomen with a wet "plp" sound from he dripping tip. His cock looked so angry, the tip a darker shade of pink than it usually was from how aroused he was right now. Nothing but the thought of pleasing you on his brain.
You pressed your knees together in front of him, trying to relive some of the neediness you were feeling between your thighs at the sight of his thick cock. Your eyes flitted between his deliciously curved member, and his beautiful eyes when he leaned over you again, sliding his fingers underneath the fabric of the panties resting on your hip, and sliding them off of you.
Satoru groaned out loud when the cloth peeled away from your cunt. The part that cupped your mound sticking to your skin from how your wetness had seeped through in anticipation.
"Haven't even done anything yet and you're so fucking wet." he moaned, balling up the panties in his hand and throwing them in the pile he was creating, currently made up of just his pants and boxers, making a mental note to keep that specific pair to himself after this.
Undoing the last couple of his dress shirt buttons he let it drape off his large frame sensually, joining the mess on the floor, leaving him completely nude. You yourself were not fairing any better, having been stripped naked in the hall, expensive dress forgotten somewhere in the living room.
Placing his hands on your kneecaps, he spread you open for him, staring hungrily down at your cunt, shaking his head at his disbelief when he saw the slick practically gushing out of your little hole, clenching around nothing.
"Please do something." You begged. Gojo didn't waste any more time, he wrapped his hands around your hips, and placed his back against the headboard in a sitting position, plopping you down on top of him, smaller hands pressing themselves against his pecs.
His cock throbbed, hovering right under your pussy. If he just thrust his hips up slightly, it might accidentally slip in.
"Want you to face away from me, and sit yourself on my dick." He requested, "Dont worry about movin' jus want you to take it all in yourself." He comforted.
Gojo never got tired of watching you struggle to take in his ridiculous size, little moans and cries slipping out between your lips as your face scrunched in pleasure, tears forcing their way down your cheeks. The latter reaction he unfortunately wouldn't be able to witness this time, as you started into action.
Turning your naked chest away from him; much to his dismay; bracing your feet on the bed, one hand coming back to stabilize yourself against his hard abs while you used the other to align his impossibly hard cock with your tiny hole.
Rubbing the tip and his precum alike against your enterance, before your other hand came down to hold your weight against his abs, cock sliding into you with litte resistance thanks to how wet you both were.
"F-fuuuuck 's so big," You whined, tipping your head back and squeezing your eyes shut at the stretch. Gojo bit his lip, hand gripping bruisingly into your hip, relishing in your warm walls constricting around his cock.
"I knoww, takin it so good though princess, just like you always do," He praised, rubbing his fingertips against your skin as he kept talking you through it. Both of you letting out a groan together when you finally bottomed out on his cock.
You let your weight off of your feet and hands when Satoru placed his own on the bed, slinging your legs over his thighs, and making you hold your legs open for him as he placed kisses to the back of your head, "Did so good baby, took the whole thing so fucking good." His words made you clench around him, a feeling he didn't miss, as he smiled against your scalp.
"Satoru...move," you pleaded, noticing how he was staying still. He told you not to move, so you didn't, but you didn't know if you could take it if he only wanted to cockwarm you right now.
"Patience baby," Your body moved with his slightly when he leaned his body sideways, cracking open the bedside drawer and pulling out a baby blue bullet vibrator, clicking the toy on to make sure it was charged, before clicking it beck off when it successfully vibrated strongly between his fingers.
"Gonna make you feel so good princess," Confused at the brief buzzing sound you heard, about to voice your question when you felt the buzzing this time.
Gojo had pressed the vibrator against the inside of your thigh, slowly dragging it up and down your skin teasingly.
“T-toru- what are u doin?” you asked in a small voice, legs twitching, threatening to close in on themselves if it wasn’t for your hands keeping them open.
“Gonna worship you baby, just lay there n keep those legs spread for me ok?” His tall stature meant that even sitting, he still towered over you. This gave him a great view of everything.
Staring down at you he could see the side of your face; and the blush that covered it; the way your body folded, your wetness sticking against your inner thighs. Gojo was in heaven.
Using his free hand, he splayed his massive palm out right under your breast, keeping you pressed against his body.
He felt your pussy twitch around his cock steadily, feeling the heartbeat in your walls as you continued rubbing the soft silicone that coated the vibrator, over your skin.
The continuous pulsing around his shaft was making him dizzy, eyelids drooping heavily on his face, body buzzing with warmth and arousal at the situation.
His teasing finally ceased when he heard you whimper out his name sweetly, begging for the last time without words that you needed him to do something.
Placing the vibrator on its lowest setting against the hood of your clit softly, rubbing it in small circles over the nub. Gojo alternated between the latter motion and pressing it directly against your clit, pushing the hood of your clit out of the way, being forced to make room for the toy.
Your stomach clenched, body jerking in on itself when the toy touched a particular part of your pussy, and the stimulation became a little too much.
“o-oh my go-d toruuu,” you whined. Gojo’s watchful eyes never left his ministrations on your clit, absolutely enthralled with the scene in front of him. “looks like that feels so fucking good,” he moaned into the shell of your ear, wincing when your walls squeezed around his cock like you were trying to milk him for all he was worth.
“s-oo good f-fuck.” your breathily moans filled the air as you tipped your head back on his shoulder. He quickly started pressing little kisses all over your cheeks as you shut your eyes, letting him take care of you.
“That’s right, let go for me baby, I got you.” he softly whispered against your cheek, diverting his eyes back on your pussy. If he looked close enough he could see the way your opening squeezed around him, the sight being almost too erotic to handle.
“Keep your body against me baby,” he said before he left his hold on your torso and joined it down between your thighs with his other hand.
Using a couple thick fingers, he traced around the opening of your cunt, feeling how the soft flesh was pulled taught to make room for his girth.
“That t-ickles,” you wined, feeling him make a V shape with his index and middle fingers, rubbing them around where the base of his cock and your pussy met.
“Does it only tickle?” he asked, proving your words wrong when he pressed the vibrator harder against you, the buzzing sensation making your toes curl.
“So erotic..” he let out a little giggle, “Wish you could see this right now.” he continued, drawing little shapes on your clit and rubbing around the rim of your cunt, “Pussy is stretched to the limits while she’s huggin my cock.” he spoke, amazed.
You whined at his dirty words, silently wishing he would shut his big mouth, but not daring to say it out loud. His words not-so-secretly making you even wetter.
His cock had been leaking steadily into you throughout this entire interaction. Balls tightening with the need to release his seed inside you, to really fill you up and mark you internally as his.
Gojo closed his eyes, relishing in the intamacy, pressing his plush lips to your neck and sucking, leaving little bruises all over the expanse of your neck that he could reach.
After a while, he noticed your breath had started to pick up, cunt squeezing him continuously now instead of pulsing, “T-toru, think i-i’m gonna cum.” you whined softly, tilting your head towards him, making his raise his from his place against your neck, and stare into your eyes.
He smiled, already knowing from what your body was telling him before you spoke. “Go ahead baby, want feel you cum around my dick, you deserve it.” he spoke sweetly.
As much as he wanted to watch your pussy when it gushed out around him, right now he was so enthralled with your face. The both of you staring at each other, breathing heavily, your expression was pulled in an aroused pout, while his lips were formed in a smile.
You knew this orgasm was going to be a big one, stomach tingling with a stronger sensation than normal. Internally panicking slightly before you spoke, “f-feels d-ifferent toru.” you warned.
“Feel kinda like ur gunna pee?” he knowingly questioned. It took every molecule in his body to not cum when you nodded your head twords him, “Aww ‘s ok princess, just let it out okay? promise it’s gonna feel so fucking good.” he encouraged.
You were about to squirt. This was something he thought about in the back of his mind every time he fucked you. Always wishing that when you came, something else would come out too.
You were squirming around in his hold at the unfamiliar feeling coiling itself in your tummy. The steady buzzing and delicious circles he was keeping up on your clit only increasing the intensity of it.
Feeling yourself begin to tip over the edge, you hurried out your words, “T-toru, kiss meee, p-please,” needing him to help you through the sensation that was about to come.
“I got you, I got you.” he giggled, pressing his lips to yours, messily tonguing the inside of your mouth while your moans raised it pitch, whimpering into his cavern.
“mhm, mhmmm,” he encouraged, as he started thrusting his hips up, fucking his dick in and out of you, helping you feel even better as his tip beat repeatedly against your gspot.
Your mouth stopped cooperating, jaw going slack as you felt your orgasm start to wreck you. Eyes rolling back in your head as the waves of your high washed over you, “yesyesyes,” gojo groaned out laughing, feeling the first trickles of your squirt spray out around him.
You were moaning so loud, broke cries of his barely coherent name leaving your mouth as he quickly rubbed the vibrator back and forth across your clit.
Balls finally releasing his seed into you at the feeling and visual of your squirt absolutely drenching the sheets underneath the two of you.
He groaned into the air, breathy laughs mixing in with them while he humped each and every last rope of his cum into your womb, pressing his balls hard against your ass when he thrusted inside.
“Holy shittt,” he dragged out when he started to come down from arguably one of the best orgasms he’s ever had in his life.
“That was so fucking hot, good job baby,” bringing his attention back your face, leaving sloppy wet kisses all over your cheeks, licking up the tears that had fallen.
You looked so fucked out, chest heaving, and cunt twitching around him in the aftershocks, eyes fluttering at the intensity in which you just came.
“You did so fucking well, how did that feel?” he asked? Giving yourself a second to catch your breath before you spoke, you mumbled out, “intense.”
“Awww I bet, looked like it felt so good to let it out though, pussy almost snapped my dick off with that one.” he giggled into your cheek.
“Thank you toru, needed that.” you spoke breathlessly.
“Don’t thank me just yet sweet thing” he said. You cracked your eyes open when you felt him slide out from underneath you, situating you in the missionary position.
Gojo placed the breifly forgot about vibrator back on your oversensitive clit, making your legs squeeze around his hips as he used the tips of his fingers to guide his still hard cock back into your warmth.
“Fuck! S-satoru what are you doing?” you panicked as painful pleasure started wracking your body, trying to jerk and jolt away from the stimulation.
“J-jus came ‘m s-sensitiveee.” you whined, fat tears rolling down your face as he started a rough pace, fucking his cock into your gspot, making your words break up when you spoke.
“Cuming just once isn’t enough for my pretty babyyy, you deserve more than that,” abandoning the vibrator for a second to push your thighs against your head, and placing your ankles over his shoulders as he put you in a mean mating press.
“C-cant t-take it.” you voiced in between thrusts, pussy spasming uncontrollably around his fat cock. Once gojo had manhandled you where he wanted you, he placed the bullet back on your puffy clit, making you scream out.
You were feeling so overwhelmed, thighs burning from being pushed to the limits in flexibility, feeling his weight crush you while he bullied his cock into your drenched walls, and the toy? You swore this would be the night gojo killed you during sex.
“Just let yourself feel it baby, relax your body for me let me do allll the work.” he spoke, trying to reassure you as he dropped his gaze to where the two of you were connected, loud squelches emitting from him fucking into you at how wet you were, gojo feeling lightheaded seeing the thick ring of cum at the base of his dick.
Without warning he felt you squeeze around his length impossibly tight, feeling something spray against his abdomen, realizing you were squirting again.
“Yeaahhhh fuck, that’s what I wanted to see.” He brought back his hips before slamming them into you harder, feeling impossibly aroused seeing this new orgasm crash over you a second time.
Your moans and protests were incoherent at this point, tears and drool covering your face as he fucked you through another intense high.
Satoru started to feel himself reach his peak again but he needed to see that one more time before he allowed himself release.
“Good girl, gooooood fucking girl.” he praised at your lack of resistance when your body went lax against him.
You gave up on fighting the pleasure, really letting your brain go numb at the feeling of, well, everything. There was so much going on, his lips would be on your neck one second, tongue in your mouth the next, babbling some dirty talk you were too fucked out to comprehend.
The vibrator was being slid all over your folds with no rhythm, but it felt so fucking good.
“Cmon you can do it, one more time baby just one more time, need to feel you squirt around me, please.” he begged.
Gojo was fucking you both stupid at this point, he was drooling, feeling so fucking pussydrunk as he mindlessly thrusted his cock in and out of your wetness.
Quickly and sloppily sliding the bullet over your clit one last time before he heard you whimper out a warning of your orgasm, impressed you were still able to form words at this point.
His jaw dropped as he came with you, electricity zapping down his spine feeling you gush around him while he stuffed you full, his moans were so needy and high pitched, overstimulating himself by rolling his hips into yours, making sure your cunt swallowed every drop of his cum.
“F-fuck, loveyousomuch.” he slurred, dropping his entire weight against your folded body, making your tendons scream at the stretch.
“S-satoru..hurts.” you voiced, successfully getting him to lean back, letting your legs drop onto the sheets, thighs and toes tingling when the blood started to circulate through them again.
“God you’re fucking amazing, hope u felt as good as I did.” He murmured into your chest.
“are u kidding? almost died.” you whispered, brain still tingling while you gained your braincells back slowly.
He wrapped his strong arms around your body, keeping his softening cock snug inside you, his chest pressed against your was firmly.
You both relished in the feeling for awhile, intertwining your legs and feet together against the bed, wanting to feel this intamacy for a little longer before you ultimately had to clean up.
“So…think club guy could make you cum harder than that?” he spoke into your breasts.
Using your arms to gather all of the strength you had left, placing your sweaty hands on his cheeks, making him raise his head to look up at you, “Satoru,” you chastised, “don’t ruin this.” falling into a fit of giggles when he groaned in defeat, sending vibrations through your lungs.
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inkskinned · 1 year
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
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drchucktingle · 9 months
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THE TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION HAVE ISSUED AN APOLOGY AND A RE-INVITATION. HERE IS MY STATEMENT
hello buckaroos. the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION have issued a formal statement and apology which you can read at the attached link.
while i find the language used to discuss what was done a little unsatisfying, i would like to start by saying i appreciate anyone taking steps to prove love is real and make things right. the genuine feeling of ‘realizing you have made a mistake and hurt someone else’ is a terrible one, and i have so much empathy for this group as they reckon with their choices causing harm. i appreciate their apology.
i also think more good than bad has come from this situation. i am so thankful this happened to me (someone with a large social media presence) and not a smaller buckaroo author without the means to stand up for themselves. i think the next time someone comes to the TXLA with an accommodation need, they will hopefully be taken more seriously
lets trot down to business about specifics now. the TXLA has re-invited chuck to the original panel and even offered to take a moment at the top of the panel to talk about what happened. this is very kind of them and i will say THANK YOU. 
unfortunately i will also have to decline.
the fact that it took this much effort, social media backlash, and discussion to let me simply EXIST PHYSICALLY in a way that is authentic to myself is not a good sign. if this organization immediately questions an authors chosen presentation in this manner, i cannot imagine what my other accommodations would be met with.
sometimes i am at an event and i very quickly need extra space to breathe. sometimes i am at an event and i need special guides to help me along from place to place. these are not ‘big asks’ and every other conference has gladly provided them, but if the TXLA had this kind of initial reaction to my physical appearance, i cannot imagine them readily helping with my other needs without ‘proof’.
this is clearly not a safe place to trot for those who require additional accommodations. regardless of any apology, their ACTIONS have shown that people who appear unusual or unique are not welcome at this event on a subconscious level. i believe the TXLA have some serious inner work to do beyond this apology, and i believe this inner work will involve actions more than words.
but even more importantly i would like to make this very important point: IT DOES NOT MATTER IF MY MASK IS A DISABILITY AID OR NOT. i appreciate the way this discussion has allowed us to trot out some deep talks on autism and proved love in this way, but i think there is a much more important point at hand.
regardless of WHAT someone looks like, it is not the job of an event or conference to pick apart WHY. physical presentation can be a part of someones neurodivergence, or gender, or sexuality, but i can also just exist as a nebulous undefined part of their inner self. it can be a piece they are not ready to openly discuss yet. the guests at TXLA are authors (aka ARTISTS) and the idea that a conference dedicated to an ART is going to deny people with unique and unusual presentations for ANY reason is absurd. since when are we applying a ‘dress code’ to our artists?
without knowing it, i personally believe there is an element of the ‘good queer, bad queer’ phenomenon going on here. there is a push to say ‘LOOK we accept these marginalized groups and cultures’ but behind the scenes that means ‘we accept these marginalized groups and cultures who are quiet and speak in turn and wear the metaphorical suit and tie’. it is easy to show diversity when you only take on the voices that arent too ‘strange’.
to prove my point i ask you this: do you think orville peck would have FOR ONE SECOND been asked to perform at the texas library association event without his mask?
so with that i say ‘very sincerely, thank you, but i will have to decline the re-invitation. maybe next year’
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loveanddeepthroat · 27 days
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Trouble
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Pairing - Sylus x f!MC
Summary - As it turned out, lavish events in the N109 Zone were not quite your thing, and this one did nothing but prove it. You weren’t looking for trouble, but it often had a way of finding you.
Word Count - 6.4k
Warning - MDNI. 18+. Oral sex f!receiving. Fingering. Light bondage. Mention of murder.
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You were in trouble.
Not that it was immediately bothering you. You were having a good time—it wasn’t your fault that the rest of your companions were quite clearly not.
And besides, it wasn’t as if you were breaking any rules. Sylus had simply advised that you remain where he and the twins could see you upon your arrival at the lavish event, and that’s exactly what you were doing.
Whilst you watched a delectable cocktail being made for you at the bar as per a stranger's request, the three sets of eyes in various places around the room burned holes in your head as they watched you and the nameless man like a hawk. You only threw a few glances at each of them, catching Luke waving the tips of his fingers against his neck in a warning to get away from the guy.
You did no such thing, however. Listening to people kissing Sylus’s ass to stay out of his warpath had quickly bored you half to death, and some stimulation was very necessary for your withering attention span. You didn’t think much of the man who had approached you at the bar. He was dressed up like every other guy in the room, but he held a familiar air of dominance around him. Just as a certain silver haired man fuming a dozen metres away did.
The man ordered you what he deemed as being the best cocktail you would ever drink, along with an identical one for himself. One sip had led to another, your glass completely drained in a matter of a few seconds. He had another one raring to go before your glass landed back on the mahogany bar.
“Didn’t I tell you? The perfect cocktail.” The slight grin he shot you revealed two golden teeth that replaced his natural canines. You imagined the man would be quite intimidating to look at for most, but you took down Wanderers for a living. He’d need to do a lot more than flash his expensive gold fangs at you to make you feel threatened.
Not that you were getting that impression from him in the first place. He actually seemed rather pleasant.
“It’s delicious,” you agreed, already starting on the second.
He perched himself on the stool beside you, taking a sip of his own as he studied you for a moment. “You came with Sylus, huh?”
You nod, not seeing any harm in answering truthfully. “Is it obvious?”
The man chuckled. “His eyes are like lasers through my skull,” he crooned. He turned his head to wiggle his fingers in greeting to your companion. You didn’t dare turn to look in the same direction. “So, what are you doing on your little lonesome, darling?”
A shiver ran up your spine at the pet name. It was almost as if Sylus had caused it as a warning to you. You could feel his patience thinning by the second.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you responded, starting to feel a bit like a worm in the sights of a crow. 
Although you weren’t entirely sure which of the two men were making you feel so much pressure all of a sudden.
A blaringly obvious hand shot in the air a little distance behind the silver-eyed man beside you, catching your attention. Kieran had attracted more than just your attention as he threw his thumb back over his shoulder, eagerly coaxing you away from the man.
It was time to wrap things up.
You finally took the hint and slipped off of the barstool and onto your stilettos, your movement mirrored by the man before you. A large hand landed upon your shoulder, causing you to freeze up. At first, you thought it was his hand clamped there, but the sheer size and strength as it gave you a small squeeze was immediately recognisable.
Sylus.
Putting your face in one of the large fireplaces in the room sounded more appealing than looking up at him at that moment, so you kept your gaze on the sly smirk now spreading across the shorter male’s face.
“Sylus. It’s about time our paths crossed tonight,” he crooned. Gone was the admittedly quite charming face you had been accompanied by, replaced with one that could be compared to that of a viper. 
This man was not someone you should have engaged with.
Sylus’s firm grip remained on your tensed shoulder, anchoring you to him. His voice was cool and indifferent, like he was already bored by the idea of conversing with the individual.
“If you fancied my attention, Frank, all you had to do was say,” he drawled.
Frank cocked his head to the side, his silver eyes dropping to your chest. You suddenly felt a little overexposed in the plunged neckline of your fitted black dress.
“I was just on my way to you when I stumbled upon a lonely little stray,” Frank purred, his cold, lingering gaze finally flickering back up to your face.
Hiding the disgust in your expression was difficult, but you had a feeling it would be wise to at least try. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the twins standing together, watching the situation unfold. They were always ready to get involved if required.
Sylus chuckled, not one iota of humour in it. “I didn’t take you for the type of man to take pity on a stray kitten,” he said flatly. “Especially one with its collar on.”
He slipped a long finger into the chain of your ruby encrusted choker, giving it the smallest of tugs. You didn’t hate it, and honestly, you felt it more in the pit of your stomach than you did in your neck. Now didn’t seem like the time to think on that, mind.
The backs of his fingers smoothed over your racing pulse as he pulled the digit back out of the small space in your tight neckpiece. You shivered quite noticeably, the sensation awakening the pulse between your thighs.
“As you can see, this one is already taken care of.”
You didn’t miss the flare of hostility in Frank’s silver eyes as he followed every movement of Sylus’s hand—even as it moved to hang from his trouser pocket with his thumb tucked inside.
“Maybe you should keep her on a shorter leash. Anyone could have gotten their hands on her,” Frank said tightly. It sounded awfully identical to a threat. “This is hardly the room full of people you would want to lose such a precious little thing in.”
Sylus didn’t respond. Instead, he grabbed your arms and moved you to the side, away from Frank’s cold glare. Before you could even react, two strong arms either side of you hooked your arms with their elbows.
Luke and Kieran practically dragged you away, your feet struggling to keep up. As soon as you were released from their bone crushing clamps for inner elbows, you turned back to the interaction you were just kidnapped from.
Only to find the space completely empty.
“Okay, either you’re blind or really, really stupid,” Luke scolded.
You frowned back at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Excuse me?”
“No, we won’t excuse you,” he snapped. “We’ve spent the last ten minutes thinking up different ways to dispose of your body after Frank was done with you.”
“Honestly, woman. Do we have to take you over the basic commands, again? I looked like a tool flapping my arms at you!” Kieran chimed in, looking like he was telling off a toddler.
Unsure whether it was the alcohol or their incessant rambling, you were starting to feel quite overwhelmed. You weren’t sure what they had seen differently while you were sitting with Frank, but you knew that the man had to have had a sinister intention for occupying you.
“Wait, wait,” you cut them off as Luke started to scold you again. “Shouldn’t we go find them?”
They both stared at you for a moment before bursting into obnoxious laughter. You weren’t sure what the joke was, but you were confident you wouldn’t find it funny even if you did.
If Sylus had gone off alone with the unfriendly man, then surely he would need the three of you there, too.
“You’re lucky you still have a tongue in your mouth to be able to make dumbass suggestions like that,” Luke sneered, still shaking from his chuckles.
You clenched your fists at your sides, irritated by their insults. How were you supposed to know that Golden Teeth was an enemy? You weren’t exactly well versed in the good and the bad when it came to attending events in the N109 Zone.
If they were that concerned, they could have remained beside you.
Each minute that passed without a visual on Sylus felt like an eternity, but in reality, only three minuscule minutes went by before he emerged from a door beside the bar.
His facial expression gave away absolutely nothing, but the red split in his lip did. You swallowed as you watched his tongue peak out to run over the small laceration, followed by the pad of his thumb. It disappeared in an instant at his touch.
You began to walk towards him, curious about what the hell had just happened, and if Frank was still breathing. Before you could open your mouth, however, he bent at the waist the second he got close to you, his shoulder connecting with your stomach as he hauled you off of your feet.
“What the—what the fuck are you doing?!”
He did not dignify you with a response as he stormed towards the exit, his solid arm squeezing your knees into his ribs as you started to assault his back. 
“Put. Me. Down,” you grit between harsh slaps to his back. You might as well have been flicking his ear for all the difference it was making.
He carried you straight out of the building and towards the matte black saloon car Kieran had driven you all in earlier that evening. You were utterly furious and embarrassed, doing everything in your power to wriggle out of his hold.
“I can walk!”
Sylus snorted. Snorted, like it was funny. No humour lay in his tone as he spoke, though. “Well that’s a little hard to believe.”
You whacked his muscled back again. “Meaning?!”
He yanked open the back door of the car, practically dropping you into it on your back. You felt it again, at the worst possible time.
That flutter of lust in your core.
It was something about the way he stood over you as you panted from the physical exertion of trying to fight his spine. He must’ve been able to see up the short skirt of your dress, and you hoped to god he didn’t spot any indication of your arousal on the cherry red thong you were wearing.
“Meaning, you had plenty of opportunity to use these apparent walking skills when your safety was threatened,” he growled, moving your legs so he could slam the car door, not interested in anything you had to say back.
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You huffed as you pushed down on the unfolded mass of clothes in your backpack, trying to fit them all in.
It had been hours since you all got back from the absolute disaster of a night, and you had been holed up in the room you were occupying since then. Part of you expected Sylus to come and explain what the hell his problem had been, but he didn’t.
The longer you sat and dwelled on it, the more you wanted to go home. You only came to stay because he’d asked you to attend the event with him. He hadn’t mentioned that you were expected to stay by his side like an obedient dog. Nor had he bothered to mention the types of people you were to avoid.
Not only were you pissed at him, but you were pissed at the fact that he’d made you feel a certain way. Who in their right mind gets aroused by a man embarrassing you by hauling you out of a room full of people—likely with your bare ass on show. 
Scientists would have a field day with your brain.
And although you hated to admit it, it wasn’t the first time you had felt that familiar feeling of lust at his touch. The last time you had stayed, you had to relieve yourself in the shower after training with him in the ring. Every inch of him was sculpted with perfect precision, almost as if an architect had dedicated their life to working on his blueprint.
If you were being honest, you weren’t bothered about the event he wanted you to attend when he’d asked you to join him. You just wanted to see him.
But at the end of the day, you had no idea where you belonged in his world. In Linkon, a friendly face buying you a drink wasn’t something to be feared. It was exhausting having to recluse whenever you accompanied him anywhere. 
The clasps of your bag struggled as you tried and failed to clip them together. You had no idea how you were getting back to your apartment, but you were confident in your ability to just suck it up and figure it out. Even if you had to trek there in your most expensive pair of (uncomfortable) stilettos.
You slipped your feet out of them, throwing your barely closed bag over your shoulders before picking the silky, red shoes up. They’re far too noisy against Sylus’s marble floor for you to be able to slip out without being accosted by him or the twins.
Without so much as a squeak, you gently turned the doorknob, pulling the door slowly to peer down the long hallway. Nobody could be seen or heard, so you slipped out and carefully closed the door behind you to not draw suspicion.
You hurried yourself down the hallway to get to the front door, stopping dead in your tracks as you turned the corner. 
Mephisto was perched outside of Sylus’s bedroom door, his beady red eyes on you in an instant. Like hell was the glorified magpie going to let you pass him without kicking up a fuss.
“If you keep your scrap-metal beak shut, I’ll be out of your feathers. Got it?” Your voice was a whisper, but you knew he could hear you.
He did not make a sound as you slowly passed him, keeping your eyes on his as he followed your every move across the luxury floors. By the time you had passed him, you were fully convinced that he was willing to let you go. The minute you took your eyes off him, though, he started to screech.
“CAW! CAW!”
“Oh for fuck sake! You couldn’t just work with me for once in your—”
“CAW!”
“I wasn’t finished you squawking little—”
You were cut off by Sylus’s door opening, his unamused expression still ever present on his face. He was freshly showered, silver hair dripping onto the bare expanse of chest showing between the lapels of his bathrobe. You had to swallow a noise that rudely made its way up from your suddenly dry throat.
Eyes as red as the rubies around your neck flickered between Mephisto, you, and the bag over your shoulder. He clicked his fingers, sending his winged companion away.
“I was under the impression that you were above cussing out mechanical crows,” he drawled, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe.
It wasn’t clear whether or not he was joking, considering the less-than humorous look on his face. Either way, you weren’t in the mood for it.
“I’m going home.”
“I can see that,” he responded immediately, nodding towards your barely closed bag. “And how, exactly, are you planning to get there?”
You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling a bit like a teenager who’s just been caught sneaking out to a party. “I’ll figure that out myself.”
Holding his cold stare wasn’t usually a challenge for you, but you found yourself desperate to look away. You had compared Frank’s domineering aura to Sylus’s earlier, but it didn’t actually come close to the man before you. 
You had seen men and women strapped with weapons that could swiftly eliminate even the most dangerous of Wanderers cower at the sight of Sylus. He was the true definition of a force to be reckoned with.
He raised a lazy eyebrow at you, his hand slipping into the pocket of his robe. “You’re not leaving without a ride home. You’re over the limit, and if I wanted you to be skinned alive walking through the N109 Zone, I’d open the front door for you.”
“You give me a lift then,” you rebuked, your patience already thinning.
Sylus offered half a shrug. “I could, but I don’t make a habit of going out half naked.” You hoped to the lord that he didn’t see your shiver at the fact that he was only concealed by a thin robe. “You’re welcome to ask Luke and Kieran.”
“And where are they?”
The corner of his lip curled so subtly that you almost didn’t see it. “Out.”
You growled at his relaxed attitude. Why the hell would he even suggest it if they weren’t around?
“They’re cleaning up a mess of mine,” he answered as if you had asked.
A chill ran through you. “Would that mess happen to be Frank’s body?”
Sylus turned away from you, strolling into his room. You weren’t entirely sure why, but you followed him in, suddenly wanting answers.
“Well?”
Dark tendrils coiled around the bag on your back, gently tugging it down your arms and carrying it out of the room, closing the door on the way out. You had a feeling your belongings were heading back to where you just came from.
Sylus fiddled with the sleek black turntable in the corner of the room, carefully setting a vinyl record into place. It was a stark contrast to the way he’d hauled you into the car.
“You’re aware of the saying, right? Curiosity killed…” he trailed off, putting the pin in its place upon the record.
You frowned at his back. “The cat?”
He blew out a short laugh, not an ounce of humour in it. “The crook.”
He turned back towards you, slowly making his way to where you were a little rigid by the door. There was that feeling again. That you were a worm in the sights of a crow.
“Tell me,” he crooned, stopping right where your forehead would connect with his heart if you took half a step forward. “What was it about Frank that had you feeling adventurous, hm?”
You forced yourself to look up at him, feeling your cheeks heat at how close you were. “What do you mean?”
“Kitten, I can read you like the nervous wrecks who attempt to double cross me. Don’t play dumb, it does not suit you.”
His eyes were fierce and serious, but you hadn’t a clue what he was getting at. Your silence only lasted a few seconds before he leaned towards your shoulder.
“What was it that attracted you to him?” He whispered so quietly that you just about heard him over the thrum of your rapid heartbeat.
Attracted to him? In the approximately two minutes you had spent with Frank at the bar, you hadn’t spoken more than ten words to him. 
You stepped away, your back connecting with the door immediately. Even with the slight gap, his look over your much smaller form was rather harrowing. And yet you felt that unhelpful flutter in your core again, so strong that your knees wobbled in place. What was this man doing to you?
“Did you hit your head this morning?” You bit back, clenching the muscles of your thighs tightly to relieve some of the pressure there. “You think that I had an eye for him because he bought me a drink?”
He closed the gap again, his large palm resting against the door right beside your head. “Why else would you not walk away when you were quite blatantly warned to do so.”
“Maybe because I was tired of—” you cut yourself off before you could finish. 
You had told yourself that the reason you hadn’t wanted to remain at his side was because you were tired of watching people practically tremble in his presence.
Now, though, you weren’t sure that was the sole reason.
Every woman in that damn room had an eye on him, and it had made you feel…strange. You weren’t typically a jealous person by nature, but tonight had proved you capable of such emotions. In fact, you were practically tearing the heads off of beautiful women in your mind, wanting to punish them all for having the audacity to look at him like he was a piece of meat.
Maybe you and him weren’t so different after all.
He cleared his throat pointedly. “Tired of…?”
You huffed rather childishly, turning your head away from his hard stare. “Of the attention that certain people were giving you,” you begrudgingly admit. 
There was no use lying to him, since falsely having him believe that you were actually interested in Frank seemed like a sure way to get on his bad side—if you weren’t already on it.
With his hand that wasn’t resting beside your head, he took a hold of your jaw, carefully turning your face back to his. “And would these people happen to be women?”
You merely shrugged, having no desire to discuss the matter any further.
Sylus studied you for a moment, contemplating. He looked as if he couldn’t decide between scolding you or shaking some sense into you. You were almost shocked that he didn’t go straight to mocking you, but you had an inclination that he had felt the same thing whilst you sat at the bar with one of his enemies.
He dropped his head beside yours again, murmuring in your ear. “If you wanted my attention, sweetie, I would have given it to you.”
You almost moaned, his breath tickling the sensitive column of your throat. Lifting a hand, you grabbed onto his wrist to steady yourself, only for him to pull out of your grasp immediately.
A flash of fear shot through you at his sudden rejection, but it was almost immediately soothed as he pried your fingers open enough to slip his own between them, pinning your hand to the door. 
“Do you have any idea the kind of danger you could have been in tonight?” It was a growling question that didn’t require an answer. You felt your breath pick up in pace, the swollen peaks of your nipples skimming the top of his abs every time your chest heaved. “Frank has been known to have a string of disappearing acquaintances. He wouldn’t hesitate to maim you out of spite to me.”
You shuddered at the thought of being so close to a killer. And yet the proximity between you and Sylus did not give you that same feeling of dread. You know that he has killed many before, and despite not having his death confirmed or denied just yet, you knew that Frank was now somewhere in the afterlife, hopefully being accosted by the people he had killed.
You knew, but you had to ask.
“Did you kill him because I was speaking to him?”
Sylus shook his head, pulling back just enough that he could look you in the eyes. “I killed him because it was long overdue. I’ve had men who have been sent out to keep an eye on that bastard, and many of them did not return,” he explained quietly, a hint of frustration in his tone. “If I had taken my eyes off of you for a second—”
He audibly swallowed, cutting himself off. You could easily guess what he was going to say, and clearly the mere thought of it was haunting him.
A wash of guilt fell over you. If you had just walked away when you were told, he wouldn’t have had to do anything.
“He wasn’t going to take one more person from me,” he finally gritted.
That very thought should have filled you with dread. It should have made you sick to your stomach.
But the mention of his eyes on you for every second you weren’t beside him caused a spreading warmth to grow in your chest. Despite the situation you hadn’t realised you were in, you had been safe that whole time under his watch.
“I would have thought you’d be glad to get me out of your hair,” you said, only half joking to diffuse the tension between you.
He didn’t seem amused by it at all, his grip on your hand tightening. “Like I said, kitten. If I wanted you dead, I’d be seeing you out of the front door instead of standing here, resisting urges I have no right to have.”
Your thighs pressed together again at his whispered confession. His eyes always warned of danger, but they were gleaming with desire. 
You were not losing out on him tonight.
With the most tender of touches, you ran the tips of your fingers over his exposed chest with your free hand, feeling his steady breath falter. He swallowed thickly, suffocating your hand in his against the door. 
“I apologise,” he whispered gruffly, his head dipping to where your collarbone was visible to him in the neckline of your dress. 
You shuddered as his breath danced across your clammy skin, droplets from his wet hair falling against your chest. “For what?”
“Handling you the way I did.” His lips were mere inches away from you, and it took all your strength not to grab the back of his head and slam his face into your chest. “The thought of that bastard doing something—”
“Kiss me.”
Sylus didn’t give you a chance to cringe at your own slip up as every inch of him pressed you into the door, his mouth attacking your pulse with expert precision. You let loose a shaky moan, your nails scratching down his rock hard pectoral.
Every ounce of animosity you had been harbouring since the event dissipated at his touch. He was rough and unrelenting, his indistinguishable power overwhelming you in the most delicious way possible.
“Lower,” you breathed softly, wanting him everywhere.
You weren’t sure how he heard you, but he obeyed your hushed command. In one swift movement, his free arm clutched you around your waist, lifting you up. Both of your legs perched perfectly either side of him, suffocating his waist.
With his newfound access to your already exposed chest, he immediately got to work, sucking and biting at the thin layer of skin over your collarbones. The pain of sharp teeth sinking into flesh married faultlessly with undeniable pleasure, causing you to writhe against him. 
A firm bulge pressed against your heat as he ground himself against your cunt. Even with the sensation being drastically muted by the material of your thong and his robe being between you, you appreciated the absolute weapon he was concealing beneath his nightly attire.
“Ah—” you gasped, the soft sound immediately erased by a sharp hiss as he sunk his teeth into your skin again.
His mouth slowly travelled down to the tops of your breasts, where he pressed uncharacteristically tender kisses to each one. You were a wriggling, desperate mess already, but he was still sane enough to take a moment to study your chest.
“I have always appreciated art,” he crooned.
He removed the arm that held you around your waist, purely holding you up with his lower body alone. Your breasts were granted a sweet release as he pulled the thin straps of your dress down, pulling the material out of his way like a man depraved.
It was the look in his eye. A million compliments that didn’t need to be put into words. You could see them. Hell, you could feel the utter captivation radiating from him.
Your free hand smoothed over the delicious muscle of his shoulders before curling around the back of his neck. With a swift yank of his head, his mouth locked onto one of your firm nipples. Back arching off of the door, you cried out as his tongue swirled and flicked the sensitive area, leaving you a little mindless.
He finally let go of your hand, hungry to feel more of you. One hand pushed up your thigh, the skirt of your dress riding up with the movement before he squeezed your hip. The other cupped your neglected breast, thumb brushing over your pert nipple as if it were the joystick on a gaming console. Up, down, left, right, and all over again. 
It was almost too much, and yet you still wanted more. He ground himself against you again, your head slamming back against the door with a reverberating thud. You felt it this time. The thickness of his solid shaft, followed by the damp sensation of your arousal.
You needed him there. Now.
“Mm—” you mumbled pathetically, unable to get a word out.
Sylus chuckled against the breast he was feasting on. “What was that, sweetie?”
All you could do was wriggle yourself against his cock, hoping to convey a message to him without the need to trip over your words. You wanted to swallow up every inch of it with your warmth, leaving it glowing like a damn firefly with the glistening sheen of your essence.
“I know that pretty mouth of yours can talk,” he whispered against the column of your throat. “Tell me what you want.”
Your mouth was dry, like the space between your legs had stolen your saliva to lubricate you further.
“More.”
Sylus clicked his tongue. “There are nicer ways to ask.”
You knew he wasn’t being serious, but you would have begged on your knees at this point. He had to have felt your legs trembling against his waist, aching for him to fill you.
“Since you haven’t specified…” he began, pulling his head back completely.
For a second, you thought you had actually irritated him. There was a darkness in his stare, a hunger. You couldn’t figure it out, but it didn’t matter once the dark tendrils of his Evol snaked around your arms, dragging them up above your head. Your eyes widened.
Was he going to leave you tied up here?
“Do you trust me, sweetie?”
Any sane person being restrained against a door by the literal epitome of bad news himself would have frantically shook their head.
But you didn’t. You trusted him with every damn crevice of your soul.
“Y-yes,” you stammered.
He brought up a hand to stroke your side before hooking it under your thigh, along with the other one. One swift lift had you hurtling upwards, as if you weighed no more than a spaniel puppy.
Your legs were quickly on his shoulders, securing him a front row seat to your soaked thong. Getting any wetter had to be impossible, but your position was serving to give it a good try. Wrists tightly secured above your head, your legs wrapped around his neck, and his warm breath fanning over your damp thighs.
No throne in the most lavish palace on earth would be more tempting than this seat of yours.
His crimson eyes flickered up to your face, a flash of uncertainty in his gaze. “Is this where you want me?”
You nodded rapidly before his hand came up to hold your jaw, halting your wordless answer.
“Words please, kitten,” he requested.
“Yes,” you breathed. “Please, Sylus.”
He grinned, an unnerving and yet exciting sight. Wasting no time, he gripped the flimsy material of your cheap thong, tearing it at the seams to grant himself access to your bare cunt.
There was no teasing. No small pecks to your inner thighs. Not even a warning before his hot, balmy tongue lapped up a line of your juices through your folds, slowly dragging over the bundle of nerves nestled within. It took him no time at all to figure out where that heavenly little mound was, as if he knew your body like the back of his veiny hand.
Teeth. Tongue. Lips. All three of them fighting brutally for their moment on your clit, as if he couldn’t figure out which to use first. Your brain could hardly keep up with the flitting between this and that. All you knew was that you didn’t want it to stop.
Your legs tightened around his head in a bone-crushing squeeze. The suffocation only served to push him further, like he was fuelled by the possibility of having his jaw crushed like a damn walnut between your thighs.
“I could think of worse ways to go,” he growled against your hole, nose buried deeply into your folds to inhale your scent.
He pressed further into you, his tongue penetrating you with a greedy lick down your plush walls. Your hips jolted of their own accord at the sensation. He was your puppet master, making you grind and flinch on demand with his calculated actions.
The more his tongue slid in and out of you—the tip of his nose perfectly hitting your clit every time—the more of him you wanted inside of you. 
Gone were your soft, airy moans. You were crying out to whoever would listen, announcing to the world beyond the walls that you were being fucking devoured by the most feared mouth in the N109 Zone.
A mouth that could bring grown men to their trembling knees with one mere bark of an order.
You were drunk on it.
He slowly withdrew his tongue, immediately swallowing. “Like candy,” he murmured.
He licked at his lips, eyes trained on the concoction of his saliva and your fluids with awe. His hand shifted from where it had still been gripping your thigh, the soft pads of his fingers tracing circles around your hole for lubrication.
“Can you handle them?” He didn’t look up as he asked, fixated on the patterns he was repeatedly drawing through your folds.
“Mhm,” you mumbled.
He clicked his tongue. “Words.”
“Yes.”
He seemed to make quite the habit of just diving in as soon as he had permission. In one swift push, he impaled you on his lengthy index finger, his knuckles pressing against your pelvic bone.
You cried out towards the ceiling. “Fuck!” 
“You must’ve had some pretty disappointing experiences down here, sweetie,” he purred. “You’re so very tight.”
Every muscle in the lower half of your body was quivering with need, your hips unable to still themselves. He wasn’t wrong, nobody had ever truly left you gasping or crying out to the heavens.
You had a feeling he was about to change that.
Slowly, he dragged the digit back out, making sure to scrape down on your walls as he did. He began a steady rhythm, plunging his finger in and out of you lazily. His eyes held a repertoire of fascination, as if he’d been dreaming up this moment for quite some time.
He didn’t rush to add the second digit, but as soon as he did, you lost all sense of reality. The curling and pounding was precise and calculated, every brush of your neglected g-spot extracting a whimpering moan from you.
“Ngh…oh fuck,” you managed through a shuddering breath.
“Good girl,” he praised huskily. “I want to feel you come undone. Can you do that for me, darling?”
If he kept talking to you like that, it was going to happen a lot sooner than he would expect. The mental challenge of holding back was near impossible, and seemed to be displeasing him.
He picked up his pace. Firm, brutal bucks of his hand giving you every push towards that edge that you were trying to keep a distance from. You were yanking at the tendrils gripping your wrists, crying out pathetically at the sheer velocity of his fingers.
“I hope you’re not holding back on me,” he warned quietly.
He wanted you to finish. He was so very desperate to feel your release that he was practically shoving you towards it.
You couldn’t deny him.
The building pressure in your core gave out as you orgasmed, a litany of thuds marrying the sounds of your pleasured cries whilst you writhed against the door. Sylus, at the feeling of your walls contracting around his fingers, became a little breathless himself. He didn’t slow his pace, helping you ride out the waves of pleasure until your very last whimper. 
By the time you had caught your breath, the restraints on your hands slowly loosened, and you expected to be put back down onto solid ground.
Instead, Sylus brought his mouth back to your folds, clearing up the aftermath of your first real orgasm. He was slow and gentle, savouring the taste like a vintage bottle of wine.
He was gentle when lowering you back to the floor, your legs trembling beneath you. You kept a hold of his arms, looking up at his hazy eyes. Anyone would think that he’d been the one on the receiving end of oral sex.
You wanted to give back. You wanted to see everything beneath his robe.
And apparently, your need was rather obvious.
“Not tonight, kitten,” he murmured, fixing your dress to cover your exposed body.
You didn’t know if you were more perplexed or hurt. Why not tonight? Did he not see you capable enough of being able to return the favour?
He brushed a strand of your unruly hair behind your ear in a contrasting manner to how he’d been handling you earlier. “I won’t know when to stop.”
You shuddered at the thought. “I’m okay with that.”
It wasn’t a lie. He could bend you over the railing of the balcony for the whole city to see, and you wouldn’t bat an eyelid.
But he wasn’t budging, the corner of his glistening lips curling upwards at your eagerness. “I don’t doubt that.” 
He leaned towards your ear, his voice a low whisper.
“But it’s going to take a lot more than my saliva and your sweet fluids to help you take me, sweetie.”
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endzithefangirl · 25 days
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"I'm gong to put 'being a WAG' on my CV"
Authors note: Here's a little Max Verstappen x TechCEO!Reader. Bet you didn't see that comng. Anyway, got the idea for this a few days ago, and I guess my love of Italian food made me finish this
Summary: Max's new relatioship causes a social media stir, but the new couple couldn't care less whilst in Italy.
Warnings: English isn't my first language, no use of Y/N, female reader, famous reader
Word count: 2k
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You understood it, to a degree. Max had just broken off a three-year-long relationship right before summer break, and now suddenly he was spending the summer with you. Now you’re at the paddock... No wonder people thought there was some crossover.
The truth? You two met last New Year's at a party for some sporting event. You, being one of the sponsors for your country's national sports committee, were invited, and Max... well, Max was Max Verstappen. You hit it off, exchanged numbers, showed him around your company a few times, and took him to all of your favorite restaurants in NYC. But you knew he had a girlfriend; everyone knew. And he was taking care of her kid too.
That breakup was hard on him. He had stopped loving her, but he couldn't just kick a woman and her kid out of his house. Max waited for them to have a huge fight, and then they just... broke up. And to your surprise, he was in New York the next day, saying that he needed someone to talk to. Bullshit. You knew he liked you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have come all the way here 'just to talk.'
But here you were, in Italy, spending time with him before Monza. You were currently typing away on your phone, trying to make peace in the finance department. Max glanced up from his phone every so often, stealing peeks at you while grinning.
He had never quite been so into someone like you. You were smart, funny, talented, pretty, and on top of all that - you were also rich. But you were also the most challenging girl to flirt with Max had ever met.
"You look like you could use a break," he said, after watching you tap away at your work laptop for a few minutes.
"Probably. What's the point of having interns if they don't do anything?"
"Then you should consider hiring me; I'm pretty good at helping out," Max teased, looking up from his phone and sending you a cheeky smile. He loved a woman who was in power, who knew what she was doing, and he could tell you were used to being the boss. "Come on, take a break. You know you deserve it," Max encouraged, resting his hand on top of yours to stop you from working some more.
"I guess I could eat…" You say, closing your laptop. "I saw on Google Maps that there’s a nice pizza place down the road. We can go if you’re hungry.”
Max smiled and nodded. “Yes, I’m starving; let’s go,” he said, reaching for the car keys.
“No, it’s okay, let’s walk,” you stop him. He turned towards you, slightly confused. Usually, women would give anything to drive around with Max Verstappen. Maybe that’s just what makes you special.
The two of you walked out of the hotel, your bodyguard Lenny standing outside the door. The tall, muscular man just nodded as the two of you entered the elevator. Max found it funny that you preferred Lenny guard your stuff more than you. Especially the laptop. He sometimes wondered what you kept in there...
“Is Pierre gonna be at the race?” you asked as you exited the building, breaking the silence.
Max’s head snapped towards you, and he raised his brow. “Uh, yes, of course he is… Why?”
“Because I want to see Kika.”
“Oh, so she’s your secret F1 crush, eh?” Max said, relaxing.
You laughed. “Pierre is a solid seven with a better haircut. Kika is a twelve on a bad day.”
As you got to the bigger streets, you started to understand why Max drove everywhere. Unlike you, who were a chiller and niche celebrity, despite being incredibly rich, Max was a real superstar. Your short walk to the pizza shop became a fan meet and greet, with people coming up to you every three seconds and asking for photos.
“Is this your girlfriend?” one of the people asking for a picture asked. As you finished taking the photo, you noticed Max’s slightly flustered face as he heard the question. He stumbled, but you answered with a simple “Yeah.”
As you arrived at the restaurant, you noticed that Max was staring at you. He seemed… surprised. You laughed at his facial expression. The sound of your laugh calmed him instantly, his heartbeat beginning to return to normal. Max cursed himself in his head; he was better than this. He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Is it something I said?"
Max ran a hand through his hair, feeling his cheeks heating up slightly. "No, no... Not really," he reassured you, trying to sound casual. "I was just... thinking."
"Okay, well I'm thinking about the food. I think a Vesuvius sounds great right now."
Max chuckled and quickly glanced down at the menu to hide his embarrassment. "Vesuvius? What the hell is a Vesuvius?" he asked, though his eyes scanned down the menu, searching for it.
"It's a type of pizza," you teased. "It's been like three minutes; have you not even skimmed the menu?"
Max fidgeted under your gaze, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks again. "What?" he asked with a nervous chuckle. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"You tell me. Why are you staring?" Max shook his head, glancing up at you questioningly. He had no idea what you were thinking about. "No... What are you thinking about?" he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.
"There are pots from 4000 years ago found in ancient Egypt that are made out of an incredibly difficult to manage material and are cut to such perfection that they balance on their round bottom."
Max's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was expecting something totally different. Something that had at least a little bit to do with him. He chuckled, still somewhat surprised as he studied your face. "Where did that come from?" he asked incredulously.
"The Egyptians. They were like, cooking pots and stuff. Royal cooking pots probably, but still," you teased.
Max chuckled again, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're thinking about cooking pots, and here I am, just trying to figure out what I did to make you say that we're together so casually."
"What do you mean? Are we not together?"
"Well, of course we're together," Max said, his voice taking on a more serious tone now. He glanced around the restaurant briefly, making sure no one was listening in on their conversation. "I just... I didn't expect you to say it so casually," he said, his eyes meeting yours again.
"Oh, sorry. I didn't know we were keeping it a secret. I mean, I was at the paddock and all last time, and I took days off work to come to this race—"
Max shook his head, realizing you completely misunderstood what he was saying. "No, no, it's not that... I just..." he began, struggling to find the right words. He took a deep breath, his fingers fidgeting in his lap. "It's just... you're so casual about it... and I'm... a bit too flustered for my own good," he admitted, a tinge of embarrassment in his voice.
You softened up a bit. "Oh, okay, I get it. It was just a bit too shocking for you... Yeah, sorry."
Max felt his heartbeat a little faster when you softened, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, it was a bit... unexpected for me," he chuckled, feeling somewhat silly for being so flustered. "But it's fine, honestly."
"Do you think my stomach is gonna have space for gelato later? There's a really good gelateria; I can see it from the window... They make the ones with the macarons..."
Max chuckled, loving how you were so excited about the gelato. "Well, based on the amount of pizza you usually eat," he teased, a smirk on his face. "I'd say you're probably fine."
"No, they put the macarons on the gelato."
"On the gelato?" Max repeated, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
"I've never heard of such a thing," he said, leaning forward to get a better look out the window at the gelateria you were talking about. "Well, in that case," he said with a grin, "we're definitely going there for dessert."
After eating so much that your belts barely held, you came back to the hotel, Lenny greeting you at the door as usual. Max's stomach was stuffed to the brim, but he was in such a good mood from the good food and even better company, he didn't even care. He walked back into the hotel together with you, his hand still holding yours. Lenny greeted the two of you as usual, but Max couldn't help but notice the way Lenny looked at you, like he was analyzing you.
"All good, Len. You go to your room for the night," you said to Lenny. He nodded, smiled at the both of you, and then went off. Max watched as Lenny walked off, then turned to you, a small frown on his face.
"He was looking at you funny," he said, a protective edge to his voice.
"He thinks it's funny. That I'm dating a Formula 1 driver."
"What's so funny about that?" he protested, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. "He just... I don't know, he's a big fan of yours I don't think he's processed it yet". Max's frown relaxed as you explained it, his ego immediately soothed a bit. Of course he was a big fan of his, who wasn't?
"Oh, so he's a big fan?" he teased, a hint of pride and cockiness in his voice.
You take your shoes off and lay on the bed, your stomach bloated from all the good food "Yeah. Talk to him a bit, I think it'll make him happy" You let out groan as you move "I hate you Italy. You has so much good food... I love it though"
Max chuckled, watching as you dramatically threw yourself onto the bed, your stomach protesting the amount of food you just had. "You're such a drama queen sometimes," he teased, grinning as he took off his shoes as well and joined you on the bed. He lays down beside you, running a hand over your bloated stomach. "You'll be fine," he said, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Oh, you know what I saw on TikTok?"
Max raised an eyebrow in curiosity, his hand now resting on your stomach. He didn't typically pay too much attention to TikTok, but he was more than happy to listen to you.
"What did you see?" he asked, turning his head to look at you.
"Well first of all, I'm a WAG now. Thank you for that, I will be putting that on my CV. But second, they liked that I was wearing Red Bull merch. I thought they wouldn't like it, but they did"
Max chuckled as you spoke, amused by how casually you mentioned being a WAG, and how seriously you were taking the fact that you were wearing Red Bull merchandise. "Well, of course they liked it," he said with a smirk. "You were wearing the merch of the best team out there."
He gave you a smug look, his hand moving up and tracing a lazy pattern on your stomach. "Not to mention the merch of the best driver out there."
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priniya · 1 month
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ᯓᡣ𐭩 PUPPY LOVER GIRL! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ
summary. upon coming to the race with your little girl, oscar and you are facing a challenging situation as your daughter gets completely enamoured with every dog she sees.
notes. oscar piastri x leclerc!wife!reader. first osc fic!!! (the obsession is getting out of hand). also pls let me know if you’d like to read something else with dad!oscar. also got inspired by @eccentricwritingbaby’s series with dad!lando!!!! didn’t proofread (idc)
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dressed in an orange shirt with her dad’s number on the back, little chloe was an absolute ray of sunshine, whenever you took her to the race, which, honestly, wasn’t such a common occurrence as some people expected. your little girl loved coming to the race, mostly because it was a chance for her to meet all her favorite uncles in one place, while watching the cars drive really fast, which always made her giggle a little, especially once she started to recognize oscar’s car amongst others. despite her obvious love for the event, she was still a toddler and dragging her every other week to the airport to go to another country was something you and oscar decided to push further in time.
nevertheless, you could deny your husband the happiness of his little girl’s presence at his home race. as much as you hated the thought of such a long flight with a toddler, because the nice to melbourne flight was never a short one without any layovers, and you really tried to stick to at least some of chloe’s day schedule. but in the end it was the pure happiness in your husband’s eyes, when you spent two weeks in his home country before a race.
with said mclaren shirt with piastri written on her back, chloe was happily skipping, holding oscar’s hand as she looked around her, until a small gasp slipped her lips, freezing in her tracks, causing you to stop as well, your forehead creasing with confusion until your eyes followed hers. a puppy — simba, to be precise.
at first you thought she was scared, when her eyes widened in shock and, as you wrongfully assumed, fear, but she was quick to reveal her true feelings. a shy smile crept onto her face as she looked at oscar, who crouched to be on the same level as her. “daddy. i pet puppy, please?” her baby voice often made you and oscar’s mom jokingly call her oscar whisperer, because if you weren’t there to keep him in check, baby piastri would get every single thing she looked at. “let’s ask auntie kika first, okay?” oscar’s face lit up with a warm smile as he gently fixed his daughter’s piggytails.
back in monaco, you had a few situations, where you could learn your daughter how to behave around animals and she was picking it up pretty quickly. as horribly as it sounds, leo, your brother’s dog, was… a bit of a guinea pig, but since chloe was a literal little angel, who was afraid of making anyone sad (hence you had to put a ban on buying plushies as gifts, because she wanted every single one to sleep with her to the point where there was no more room on the bed for her), so there were never any fur or tail pulling, screaming into poor dog’s ear or anything that could cause any harm to leo and in consequence, to chloe.
a happy grin was plastered on her face, when kika and pierre walked up to them first, the girl quickly started gushing about the adorableness of her favorite papaya girl. “i pet puppy, please? ‘tie kika?” the three years old asked, holding her hands behind her back. “i gentle.” she adds, pointing at herself as if kika wasn’t completely drowning in the cuteness of the situation.
“of course, pumpkin. simba really missed you.” she chuckles softly, the two of you watching as chloe starts petting the small dog with delicacy, babbling something slightly incoherent to simba, who tried licking her fingers as she giggled. “you should get her a dog.” your friend laughed softly, nudging you with her elbow.
“we’re thinking about it, but i don’t think it’s gonna happen in near future.” you replied, a small smile tugging on your lips as chloe was completely infatuated with simba. “she’s still a lot of work, and you know how it is during the season, it’d be even more exhausting than it is now.”
few minutes later, after a quick chat with kika as you were walking down the paddock, catching up with oscar, who had to take a quick call. before you know it, your daughter squeales happily as she lets go of your hand, starting to run away, before oscar scoops her up in his arms. “hey, you can’t do that, squish.” oscar said gently. “you almost gave us a heart attack. if you wanna go somewhere, you have to tell us, okay?”
“suis désolée, daddy.” chloe replied a bit sadly as she pulled out her bottom lip. “but…” she scrunched her nose, unable to form a proper sentence in one language. “c’est uncle charles.” i’m sorry/it is.
“you still gotta tell me or mommy first.” oscar reminded her firmly, her sad pout breaking his heart a little, so… to change that, he smothered her face in small, quick kisses, making the toddler squirm in his arms, giggling cutely. “okay, c’mon, let’s say hi to uncle charles.”
as soon as baby piastri’s feet touched the ground, she ran for her life towards charles, the red pins in her hair being a small symbol of support for one of her favorite uncles. she was about to take a leap and jump into the driver’s arms, when she abruptly stopped mid-way, her mouth forming into a big ‘O’, girl’s attention has shifted from one beloved uncle to another as the youngest leclerc brother appeared in the line of her vision.
“uncle a’tty!” chloe squeaked even louder than before, happiness overflowing her adorable expression. arthur chuckled, taking a few long strides towards the three years old, before picking her up and doing a small spin, his niece erupting into a fit of giggles.
“my uncle a’tty.” she beamed, her arms wrapped around his neck, nuzzling her cheek against his. you could tell that your older brother’s heart just melted upon hearing chloe’s words, while your other older brother felt like he got stabbed with a knife.
“not a hi to your other best uncle?” charles asked in almost a desperate tone to get some attention from his favorite (and only) niece. oscar, you and alex just rolled your eyes playfully at his antics. a flicker of hope spread on his face as your daughter perked up slightly and let out a gasp.
“uncle lan?”
“oh, c’mon, squish.” your brother sighed, running a hand through his hair. a silly smile appeared on chloe’s face as she made grabby hands towards charles, who got over his exasperation pretty quickly. “play with leo, please?” she asks with big eyes and before you knew it, chloe was happily babbling to the mini dachshund.
although, the biggest fun she always had was with roscoe. mostly, because whenever she was around him, he was the chillest dog on the planet earth. she loved leo and simba, but they were still puppies with lots of energy and as much it would seem like chloe would love that, but when it came to doggies, she loved to just sit next to them and pet them endlessly.
that’s what she loved, whenever oscar and you took her to a race, that sometimes, beside being a bubbly little girl, cheering for her favorite person in the world along her second favorite person in the world, she could spend the time cheering and spending time with her favorite animals, while also being blissfully unaware of the tormenting of her mom’s brother.
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slvttyplum · 3 months
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sneaking around and doing shit you weren't supposed to be doing was one of the things you were good at; in fact, you were an expert at it. you knew you weren't supposed to be fucking him, but there you were, spread out in all your glory like a meal on a plate, ready to be devoured.
your friends had a sixth sense; every person you dated, they were right about, and you dated a lot of people. when it came to nanami, they couldn't put a finger on why they didn't like him or what it was that threw them off, but they were going to warn and nag you until you stopped talking to him, and that was never, in a million years, going to happen.
so what'd you do? you kept talking to him, and talking didn't last for long. he was a sweet talker; he knew his way around things and knew how to get what he wanted. in this exact moment, what he wanted was you, and he was going to stop at nothing to get you.
neither of y'all was planning on having sex; sex is just one of those things that happen unless there's a clear boundary that it wasn't going to happen, but with two glasses of wine and him eyeing you down like he hadn't eaten in weeks, he had you in bed so fast that when you took another blink, it was all over.
what you thought was a one-time thing with this sexy man turned into an everyday thing. he couldn't keep his hands off of you, and you couldn't keep your pussy off his face. it was a win-win situation for the both of you. the more you kept going behind your friends and fucking him, the more they got suspicious if you actually stopped talking to him.
the suspicion didn't start until you started bailing on plans and leaving places early just so nanami could flip you on your back and spread you out like scissors so he could fuck you so good you didn't even want to go home.
theres no way you could ever leave him alone after he fucked you so many times you lost count, or at least that's what you tried to tell yourself until you actually started tracking and got to forty. this man fucked you senseless forty fucking times.
the way he whispered sweet things into your ears while he was inside of you made everything worse. his soft voice sliding into your ears as his hands were roaming and cupping over your breast, and his dick was buried deep inside of you, softly pressing on your sweet spot, his lips kissing over your jaw as he slams into you, putting in every inch bit by bit.
whether this was a phenomenon or things just playing out in your head, but… everything felt ten times better when you knew you weren't supposed to be doing it. doing something in secret makes you feel good. doing him especially felt good.
nanami knew about your little problem and couldn't understand why they would think such things, but he made sure to turn the situation around to his advantage so you weren't sneaking around and leaving events early in vein.
making sure to start off slow, kissing down your neck and stopping right at your stomach before rubbing all over you, making sure you're comfortable before he makes you take him. that's all nanami was concerned with, not with what was going on around the both of you, his job, or your friends, the only thing he was worried about was you and making you feel good, even if that meant having to sneak around for you.
"i don't want you to be this person just so you can sneak around with me." a put on your lips as you look down at your hands, nanami's coming up to cup your cheek, making you look at him, those big eyes that he fell in love with looking back at him.
"i'll be whatever you want me to be, baby." that's when you knew that he wasn't like those exes who put you through hell; he was much more than that. he cared about you, and it was evident not only through his words but also through his actions.
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writingouthere · 9 months
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neighbor!Sukuna x single mom!reader; your ceiling is leaking at 3 in the morning and you don't know what to do so you go ask for help from the man across the hallway(inspired by real life events that were not nearly so charming).
no need to have read the others in the series but can be read as a week or two after the aquarium date.
cw: Sukuna being a menace
Sukuna had always been a light sleeper so when there were knocks on his door at 3am, he was up instantly. The knocks weren't even loud but he found himself annoyed enough to stomp to the door. If he wasn't sleeping, the people below him didn't need to be either.
He yanked his door open, prepared to make whoever it was regret every moment of their existence but it was you, holding your daughter and clearly on the verge of tears.
You seemed contrite when you saw his expression but before you could even start to apologize, he was slipping on his boots and grabbing his key.
"What's wrong," he asked.
"It-it's the ceiling, I woke up and it was leaking water. It's getting everywhere and I don't know what to do and the landlord isn't picking up."
Sukuna rubbed your arm, trying to give you some comfort and you relaxed a little.
"Okay, let me come take a look. I can call the super, he's probably more likely to answer than the landlord." You nodded and he followed you back to your place. Holding his hand out to stop you at the door as he made to go in first.
Sukuna heard the water pouring in before he saw it. He had never been in your apartment before. It was clear that a woman there. There was color everywhere, more blankets than made sense for two people and the walls were covered in photos and artwork. It felt soft, it reminded him of you. And now, it was being ruined by water raining down from the ceiling.
"Why don't you wait in my apartment. You both look like you could use some rest. I'll sort this out," he said, handing over his key. You looked ready to protest but then your daughter started crying.
"Go, I got it."
You looked so relieved and he wiped away a few tears from your daughter's face and pressed a kiss to her forehead which helped bring the tears down to a more tolerable snuffling.
"Thank you so much, I don't even-"
"Don't worry about it. You two just go settle in the guest room and I'll wake you up when it's settled."
You smiled at him and you seemed to hesitate before you went up on your toes to give him a quick peck on the cheek.
Sukuna couldn't stop himself from grinning as you took your daughter out the door and towards his apartment. He turned around to look at the mess that was your apartment. It looked like a pipe must have burst in the apartment above yours. Annoying, but a quick fix when caught this early. He grabbed his phone, opening it to call the super before a thought came to him that just wouldn't leave.
It would be a shame if you had to terminate your lease because of unsafe conditions, after all you must still have a good six months left on it. He knew you didn't have any family in the area and it would be a lot for a working mom with a kid as young as yours to go apartment hunting all the sudden.
Of course, he did have that guest room. Plenty of space for the three of you and it wouldn't be hard to bring over the stuff you needed while you looked. His apartment was bigger than yours, even though it was just him.
Even if it was a tight fit, his lease was up at the end of the year anyway. You could always get a bigger space, one for your soon to be growing family.
Sukuna pocketed his phone and took a seat at your dining table, away from the water. He figured it would only take another hour before the damage passed the point of no return.
He hoped you and your daughter were resting well in your new home.
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dickaspointed · 3 months
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𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑩𝑬𝑫𝑺 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑬𝑵- !
𝘚𝘔𝘜𝘛 !! 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴.
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HEESEUNG felt all too giddy with you in the same bed as him. he couldn’t help but sneak glances and looks here and there, especially when the moon cascaded over your little body compared to his. you barely took up half the bed in comparison to him, and don’t get him started on those short shorts and tank top that did horrible jobs at hiding your modesty. by one am, your legs are thrown over the creases of his elbows, his name rolling off your tongue like a mantra as your shorts dangled just over his shoulder. he couldn’t keep his desires at bay.
SUNGHOON acted tough like sharing a bed with you was no big deal, but on the inside it was an internal battle for him not to pop a boner. that stupid moomoo you wore that accentuated your breasts and ass definitely didn’t help keep one from forming in his sweats. he promised to keep it PG tonight but when you slid into bed besides him, smelling like a fresh sweet cake he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. he pulled orgasm after orgasm from you until your moomoo was somewhere over the clouds, your chest and throat covered in hickies he’d have to explain tomorrow.
JAY was decently good at keeping his composure. he had shared a bed with you numerous times, but this time it was different because this time you were his. with your ass pressed to his pelvis, his hand underneath your top, gently fondling your right breast he tried to lull off to sleep. but your whiny moans and twitching ultimately ruined all the composure he had. flipping you onto your stomach, he mounted from behind, tearing your shorts and panties off in a slick motion for better access. the others wouldn’t let you two share a room anymore because they got no sleep with how loud you were.
JAKE purposefully made sure every trip that you two ended up together, if that meant bribing everyone with lots of money so they’d willingly book a hotel with one less room for everyone. Jake would sadly break the news to you, pouting to really add to the bit. in the end, it worked in his favor because you’d be straddling him that night, his hair between your fingers as you rode him like your life depended on it. Jungwon would end up banging on the door, asking you two to kindly “shut the fuck up.”
SUNOO was nervous every time you had to bunk with him. he’d go the extra mile to make sure you were comfortable, he wouldn’t even sleep without socks. one night, all of that flew right out of the open window when you cuddled up to him, tucking your face into his collarbone. your soft whimpers of enjoyment fueled something inside of him, he tapped your back gently. it was nothing but fireworks from that night on, blissful orgasms that made both of you see stars and shake violently against one another.
JUNGWON being the leader it was only right that he let you bunk with him. he had a set of rules that seemed to go right through the floor when you came back from a steamy shower with dewy skin and a nighty that hugged your body in all the right places. you asked him if this was alright for his “rules”, whilst smoothing your hands down your body. he sucked in a deep breath, looking towards the door before ultimately deciding whether or not he wanted to be ridiculed in the morning. needless to say, after an eventful, blissful night with Jungwon, that nighty was ripped to shreds and he had to explain what all those weird sounds were last night.
NI-KI put his cold feet up the back of your shirt and kicked you off the bed with both very large feet.
K BYE!!
actually, before i leave i wanted to say thanks for all the reblogs and likes!!! i really appreciate whomever likes and blogs, thanks a ton! and please if you feel comfortable (AND 18+ because i’m not playing) leave some requests of what you wanna see and what member !! besides ni-ki <3
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rowarn · 3 months
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bizarre thought.....shadow entity!ghost..... @sgtgarricks is responsible for this!!!
i already want to write another part to this LMAOOOOOOO
part : two
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when you first moved into your new house, you knew it was old and had been vacant for a looooong time. it had a bizarre history of people living there and moving out months, even weeks later. most people declined offering a reason for their quick move but others would just vaguely supply that the 'energy was dark in that house', you weren't bothered.
it was a nice, big, house and for damn cheap too. you weren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
your first nights in the house, you understood what they meant. there was something off about the house for sure. at random times, you would feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, as if alerting you to danger. when you would turn around, there was nothing there. but it would leave you with sweaty palms and a racing heart.
it wasn't until a week into your new life that the first weird thing happened. it was like something from a stereotypical horror movie. you heard a strange sound and got out of bed to investigate. when you got to your kitchen, all the cabinets and drawers were open and your kitchen chairs were placed on top of your table -- which had also been moved across the kitchen.
you tried to take some deep breaths to calm yourself as you returned everything back to normal. you went over and over in your head for some kind of explanation for the event before finally landing on the fact that this house was fucking haunted.
strange events kept happening after that. lights would turn on, your kitchen cabinets would be open, sinks and showers would turn on, doors would slam from across the house. you were losing sleep over it. every single night you'd be woken up by some strange event and you were beginning to understand why the past tenants had moved out so fast.
this was a rotten way to live.
the final straw for you was the night the activity really seemed to ramp up. whatever spirit was haunting you wanted you out now. multiple doors slammed, jolting you from your sleep -- your heart racing from how hard you had been startled from your dreams. you got to your feet and turned on your lamp only to find it wasn't working.
next, you tried the overhead light. same thing.
fuck. it had caused the power to bust.
now you were really scared.
you grabbed your phone, using the flashlight to navigate your way out of the bedroom. the floorboards creaked beneath you, considerably louder without the hum of electricity.
you were halfway down the hall when you heard it. quiet at first, but definitely there. footsteps. mimicking your own, as if echoing after you took your own steps, making sure you knew it was there.
you spun around, shining the light upon nothing. you let out a heavy breath, noticing the way the flashlight shook from how hard you were trembling.
"a-alright, ghost," you called into the empty house, too scared to feel stupid that you were talking to nothing, "i-i'll admit i'm pretty scared right now. i-i know you probably want me out of your house. this is your house, i get it. bu-but i already sunk all my damn savings into moving in here s-so i can't leave!" you swallow, a loud gulping sound that would be funny if you weren't about to piss yourself, "s-so if we could just live together for a little while longer. i-i promise i'll get out the second i have the money!"
there was nothing but tense silence. you felt like an idiot the more seconds that passed. were you trying to make a deal with a fucking ghost? a spirit of someone who probably died in this house? what kind of shit had your life become?
you peered into the inky blackness of the hallway, blinking as you try to futilely see. it takes you a moment to realize you're not just staring into the darkness of your hallway. it's something else.
pure darkness. a dark entity taking form in the blackness of the night. you want to step back, primal fear coursing through you like you never felt before. whatever fear you were feeling was primordial in nature -- as if this entity was something you were born to fear.
the darkness began to swallow up the hallway, eating away at the light your flashlight had created. the air felt heavy and oppressive, making it difficult to take in oxygen.
you swear you could feel hands on you, grabbing you and pulling at you. the longer you stared into the darkness, the more you thought you could see things. eyes. hundreds of eyes. but when you blinked, the images vanished.
then, all at once, the entity was gone and your light was shining down the hallway again unimpeded. after another second, the sound of the electricity slamming back on filled the house and you collapsed to your knees.
whatever that was, it was dangerous. you knew that now.
but it didn't hurt you. perhaps it agreed to your terms and would leave you be now?
oh how wrong you were. sure, it wasn't nearly as scary as that night but now you saw it.
around every turn.
you could see the shadow take shape from the corner of your eye but when you looked, it would be gone. you would be brushing your teeth and when you looked in the mirror, it stood behind you, making your heart leap out of your chest. when you would turn, it wasn't there.
you were no longer woken up in the night, at least. but you weren't sure if you preferred the regular haunting stuff to seeing the ghost or not. you were on the fence about which was worse.
after another scare from the ghost, you jumped so hard that you almost fell over, "alright you -- ghost! will you quit scaring me like that!?" you found yourself shrieking.
to your abject horror, you heard laughter in return.
the shadow shit was fucking laughing at you. like it was enjoying this.
it wasn't evil laughter either. it sounded like pure enjoyment.
you suppose it wasn't out of the realm of possibility for a ghost to make sounds but it didn't make it any less horrifying.
you started talking to it more after that. once you heard its voice - sort of- it became easier. the fear also dissipated in time. sure it would jump scare you from time to time to get a laugh but other than that, it became like living with a really annoying roommate.
"will you get out of my mirror!" you snapped, mouth full of toothpaste with you facemask on. its disappearance was marked with its mirthful laughter.
you also noticed as the days and weeks passed, it stopped looking like a shapeless shadow and more like a person -- a big one at least. well over 7 feet tall. if you looked for long enough, you could almost make out what you think is a skull where the face would be on a human.
one night, you're laying in bed, comfortable. there's rain pelting outside on your window and distant thunder, too nice of weather to sleep away. so you just choose to relax and listen to it.
"ghost?" you find yourself calling into the darkness, "are you there?"
its silent but you feel the air grow heavy and you know that it's arrived. it seems to have...consciousness, you realized. it reacts to you and listens to you. there's one thing that's been plaguing you that you want to ask, though you're not sure if it will answer -- if it can answer.
"you're not really a ghost are you?" you ask.
you're greeted by silence for several, long seconds before you hear it. it's deep and masculine, a whisper of an echo following its voice when it speaks as if multiple things were speaking but only one voice was amplified, "no."
it's the answer you were expecting but that didn't mean you liked it. you swallow harshly around the lump of anxiety in your throat.
"are you going to hurt me?" you ask it, dreading the answer to this one. just because it's been toying with you doesn't mean it's not still dangerous.
"no," it responds again. you can hear footsteps, the entity walking closer and closer to your bed.
you let out a relieved breath at that. though, you're not sure if you should actually believe the dark entity that lives in your house. but at this point, you've really got no choice except to take it's word for it.
"what's your name?" you find yourself asking it.
"ghost," it responds quickly.
you laugh at that, "no, you're real name."
"ghost," it insist, "you gave me a name."
a lightbulb goes off over your head.
"is that why you're being so nice to me?" you ask, not sure if 'nice' is the appropriate word to use.
"i wanted a name," it answers, "you gave me one."
"a name in exchange for living in this house," you muse, deciding to roll over in bed, "alright then. goodnight, ghost."
"rest well," it responds before vanishing, freeing the room from that oppressive feeling.
you close your eyes and will yourself to fall asleep, briefly wondering where ghost even came from and what exactly it was.
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this is unedited i wrote it in a fury of inspiration i hope u enjoyed it regardless of how WEIRD this was LMFAOOOOOOOOOO
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