There's nothing quite like the look Katsuki gives you when he's fucking you.
His brow is furrowed, which isn't unusual. It's not in the set of his jaw, either, or the punishing tempo of his hips slapping against yours. Pinning you down effortlessly, almost in a mating press.
What's nearly etheral are those deep red eyes trained on you. Watching you, picking you apart. Even with his breath growling out of him, the bass vibrates between both your chests. Makes your heart flutter.
He's watching you. For as much shit as he gives his old childhood friend, he is just as observant, just as meticulous in gathering information. In some ways, perhaps more so. Instead of penning it in a notebook, he sears it into his mind, his soul. From the slack of your jaw to the arch in your back, the way your eyes lose focus when his cock angles juuust right in your plush walls. The cute little tears gathering in your eyes, the pleading arches of your brows informing him that you're almost there.
You gurgle out a pathetic, whimpering moan. Such a delicate thing - he captures the sound with his lips, wanting to taste your sweet release on his tongue just as he feels your pussy gushing with slick around his cock.
He chuckles, biting your lower lip softly. A warning nip.
"Y'know, I'm not even close to done with you yet, pretty."
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Just like that, come closer. There's no need to be afraid. You know I wouldn't cause you pain. My liebling, how sweet you look tonight. Let me kiss you, please. Let me taste your lips.
âŚ
Just as I thought, sweet as honey. Mein Gott, how I love you. Come, come; I was just about to start preparing for dinner.
âŚ
No- no, don't worry, that's nothing. The basement is just old, has its humours.
âŚ
Here, settle right here. Good girl, my liebling⌠Perfect. So sweet for me.
Hmm? Those straps? Just to make sure you feel comfortable. They're soft, aren't they? They don't feel uncomfortable at all against your skin, do they?
They don't?
Good, I bought them just for you. The softest leather available, for the most delicate lamb.
Shhh, shhh, it's alright, my liebling. Don't whimper like that, I know you dislike knives, but you know me, I would never hurt you.
Just like that, liebling, perfect⌠That's it, my little lamb, don't cryâŚ
Ah-
Nein, nein, verdammt-
Shhh, shhh, don't worry, don't worryâŚ
Here, all done, all doneâŚ
Drink some water, ja? Let meâŚ
That's it, you drink so well⌠drink it allâŚ
See, liebling? Water made it feel better. Gut, gutâŚ
now with party scene!! cuz that's all we really wanna see anyway right
driving home to you: chapter 2
Ilya steered them over to the living room with a grin. âSee, Hollander? No grand introductions necessary.â He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and nudging the tray of snacks toward Shane. âNow eat your veggie sticks.â
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: South Park
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Stan Marsh/Wendy Testaburger
Characters: Stan Marsh, Wendy Testaburger, Wendy Testaburger's Parents
Additional Tags: disgustingly sweet fluff, like cavity inducing, high school sweetheart stendy brings me joy, High School, Teen Romance, Teenage Dorks, Idiots in Love, First Kiss, Aged-up South Park Characters, Stendy week 2023, Songfic, Romeo and Juliet References, Teenage Drama, Cliche, How Do I Tag, I'm Bad At Tagging, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Aged-Up Character(s), First Love
Series: Part 1 of STENDY WEEK 2023
Summary:
STENDY WEEK 2023 || PROMPT #1: FIRSTS
despite being forbidden to date, stan and wendy refuse to let anything or anyone get between them.
Hi, Tumblr. Hi, beautiful people. I know I never come on here anymore. I hope you are breathing. I hope you are hugging your loved ones and cuddling your pets and holding space.
I need somewhere to say this and I deleted my Twitter a while back. I was very active on Tumblr when I was very religious. I was well known as a queer Christian on here. I'm now, years later, no longer religious at all, leaning very hard towards agnostic but basically atheist, tbh. I don't think there is a God or afterlife or anything. I think there is just us, and now, and each other, and the earth, and empathy. It is times like this when I think that the most. My spirituality, of any kind if you call it that, is simply finding love and joy in every day and connecting to the nature and the comfort in the fact that I'll return to it one day, when I die. That we all do. The circle of life and humanity and feeling very beautiful things and becoming dirt, then grass, then perhaps deer one day. Because nothing is created or destroyed, even eons from now, my energy, my atoms, may be a deer or a bird or something else. It won't matter what, but it will be beautiful. And no matter who we voted for, or what we believe, we will all be dirt again one day.
I will also take a second to give an update on my personal life, since it's been a long time. I will tell you all I'm single, living with my cats, enjoying my life thoroughly. After a several year long job hunt, I finally got a "real" job as a fundraising & events coordinator at a really good nonprofit. For the first time in my entire 20s, I'm able to breathe when it comes to money. I've been working there just over a month and I love it so much, I am so so happy. I'm still also running my freelance business as a side hustle and growing deeply closer to my family and friends, the people I hug and cherish each day. I'm going to the gym, my skin is good, my sleep is the best it's ever been.
And to me, again, that's my spirituality. It's joy and friendship and sitting in restaurants laughing. It's doing good, meaningful work, and getting an okay paycheque for it. It's feeling like I'm finally on the right path in my life, after a few hard years, after some trauma in the past two years. I say this also to remind you that life is not just about the big picture, it's also about the little things, the day to day, the way we find comfort in ourselves and our loved ones. The way we heal and find empathy and hold each other, that is the most important thing. I know life is hard, but we do not stop finding hope in it, no matter what.
I heard this on a podcast once and for some reason it has stuck with me and is oddly comforting in hard times: "How you feel and what is happening are not always the same thing."
If there's anything I can do to help, please let me know. I'm here for you and with you.
Please enjoy these pictures of my cats in this trying time.
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note from viv :Â i have been going through the most intense tsukishima phase...
when your earbuds get tangled, tsukishima silently grabs them from you and untangles them, handing them back to you without a word. if you use rechargable headphones, he always plugs them in when he sees them.
if youâre sitting on the couch or bed alone, kageyama always sits down beside you and wraps his arms around you. he often does this after petty fights; presses his face into your neck and whispers iâm sorry.Â
whenever youâre doing something and a good song comes on, semi grabs your hands and dances with you to it, spinning you around and laughing. heâll get flustered if you do this to him.
kuroo helps you with anything you may be physically struggling with, and he inadvertently flirts with you while helping you out.Â
I've figured out a way to put my thoughts into words
For a while I've been picturing esmp!False with clockwork imagery, I don't know why. I've seen her base as a clock, the insides with it's redstone machines and the outsides pretty and clean. I've thought of her mind as a sort of machine, the gears and cogs her memories
But recently that's felt wrong. Her mind still works, memories can't be truly erased, so maybe it's more like the machine hasn't been oiled in a while. But still, that felt wrong
So I thought again. Maybe it was that she was missing cogs and she was picking up and piecing it back into the machine to get a bigger picture for herself. But then, the thought occurred to me. She isn't a machine missing cogs, she's a machine with mismatched cogs. It works, but it isn't good enough, and she's trying to find her old cogs, the ones that were good, her old memories, home.
tags: fluff, itâs just fluff, established relationship, i guess a lil light angst if you squint, childe lovable dork number one
notes: of course my first piece is about childe my one and onlyâŚmy belovedâŚplease come give me some constellations <3 pls enjoy! iâm planning on writing some more similar pieces with some other characters but i really wanted to post this one now teheâŚinteracts/reblogs appreciated!
Just as the moon guides the tides in and out of the shore, she pulls you to himâChilde, quiet in his solitude and unsuspectingly calm on the beach.
You find him on the beach just north of Liyue Harbor, on a long stretch of tan sand with a sheet spread out under him. Uneven rocks pin down the corners of the makeshift sand-protection, and you can make out the shape of the Harbingerâs jacket and boots settled next to him.
Upon hearing your soft footsteps crunching on the sand, Childe perks up. The slight curve of his posture, betraying a weeks-old exhaustion, straightens into a bright smile and a cheery wave, the welcoming facade he throws around to unsuspecting strangers who wonât ever make the plunge into the depths of his heart. Blue eyes, blue like the ocean and the cosmos and the frost on your skin after too many hours spent trekking around Dragonspine, pierce the dim night, only lit up by the small lantern next to him and the faint blue glow of his vision. They give his skin an unearthly glow, the warm light of the lantern bringing out copper highlights in his hair while the blue of his vision drives deep shadows into the far side of his face.
The night is peaceful in its simplicity, watched by the careful eyes of the moon and her starry companions. Childeâs smile brightens as you settle next to him, kicking off your own shoes and stretching out across the oversized blanket. Your own bag, full of warm midnight snacks and soft blankets, hits the ground as you do, and rolls with a soft thud.
âYou made it,â Childe inches closer, quick to put his hand over yours and fold your fingers together. You let him, settling your joined hands over one of your thighs and sitting to lean against his shoulder.
âYea. The slimes didnât drench me.â You huff, eyes pointed out towards the water; then slowly drifting over to him.
âWell, since the slimes didnât get to you, I was thinkingâŚâ Childe rubs a gloved thumb over the back of your hand, directing your attention. The leather is rough against your skin, worn equally from working a weapon and signing bank documents.
âYour ideas are always awful. I wanna know,â you lean into him.
âMidnight swim!â He says cheerfully, pointing out towards the water with his free hand. âThe weather has been so warm lately that Iâm sure the water will be as well. Plus, itâs just the two of us! Wouldn't that be nice?â Oh, you donât want to crush his dreams and his eager, giddy smile, but you are not going in that water. No thanks, you are perfectly content to stay warm and dry on your big, spread out blanket and watch Childe make a shivering fool of himself before he comes back and soaks his half of the blanket.
âIâm not going in the water, especially not in my clothes, Childe. Itâs cold out.â Childe blinks at you, as if he doesnât understand the problem for a moment before sighing, as if he knew this would be your answer.
âFine. But Iâm going to go in, and I'm sure youâll join me in no less than five minutes!â He says it so confidently, living up to his namesake so easily that it makes you swallow down laughter. The tall Fatui makes sure to blow you a dramatic kiss from the waterâs edge, before he turns his back entirely. Really, you are completely content to watch him enjoy himself in the shallows. Itâs refreshing to see him so light on his feet and in his words.
The soft moonlight illuminates his back, drawing out the folds of his dark shirt. The metal accessories around his belt glimmer in the cool light as well, twinkling like stars at you, but youâre almost mesmerized as you chase the patterns of moonlight across his ever-moving form. The water is so clear, reflecting him and the mountains situated behind you, every trace of silvery-white light that dances down an uneven slope or a curving tree branch rippling amongst your loverâs own reflection.
âYou know, the waterâs still warm!â Childe calls after a few minutes of peace. Heâs rolled his pants up to just under his knees, but theyâre still being soaked by waves of water. From your warm, dry, position on the shore youâre inclined to protest, but a shimmer in cerulean eyes not brought on by the moon or stars cuts your words before they can begin. He begins making his way over to you, sloshing through the water and then up onto the sand.
âCâmon, just stick your feet in. I promise I wonât let you drown.â You roll your eyes at his proposition; the way he walks so arrogantly over to you and crouches ever so slightly, extending a hand to you. Heâs tracked wet sand onto your clean, safe haven, and his wet pants are dripping seawater on your bare shins, but you still hold your tongue all the same.
âPlease? Itâll be fun. You donât have to, but I think youâd enjoy it.â The Fatui offers his hand with a little bit of a wave this time, and you give in to his easy smile and comforting presence. Itâs hard not to, hard to resist the way he sweeps you into the ocean, the same way heâs already swept you away entirely like a pebble torn from shore.
The water is still warm, but itâs still much cooler than your skin and you shudder as youâre exposed to it much too quickly. Childeâs grip on your hand is too tight, his excitement adorably obvious as you come to a halt some ten feet into the water, where it rises just above your hips.
âSee? Itâs not bad at all.â Childe leans down, his face mere inches from yours, and sticks his tongue out playfully. You resist the urge to pinch it between your thumb and forefinger, instead flicking his forehead gently, just enough for him to recoil as if youâve shot him and dramatically clasp a hand over his head.
âItâs not bad at all,â you mimic, unable to stop yourself from laughing at the gingerâs over-the-top reaction. Cute, heâs so cute sometimes and you doubt he truly knows it, cute when he drops something from his chopsticks or shoots an arrow into the ground or trips over a loose rock when heâs pretending not to stare at you. Cute when his guard is down, when heâs not a battle-hardened warrior and traces of the myth you know to be named Ajax are allowed through the ever-present cracks in his facade. Just as youâre lost in thought, a spray of salty water meets your face, and you close your eyes and cross an arm over your forehead quickly.
âThat was uncalled for!â You complain, but it trails off into laughter as you return the splash back at Childe.
âHey, your aimâs not half bad!â Heâs even quicker to fire back, and soon the water around you both churns enough to drown out your shared laughter. Your clumsy feet, weighed down by your movements kick up sand and cloud the water, and you brush grit from your face and hair after a particularly well-aimed splash flattens it down your back.
âThatâs practically an insult, coming from you.â
âMy aim isnât that bad!â Fake offense riddles his tone, one hand placed over his poor, scandalized heart.
âWill you be less arrogant if I tell you Iâm enjoying myself?â You dodge most of another splash, but even when youâre complaining you find your jaw beginning to ache from a wide smile.
âSo much for staying out of the water,â Childe taunts, gesturing to the soaking mess youâve become. Heâs no better, water dripping down his face in rivulets, blinking the salt away from his eyes instinctively and pushing the wet hair back from his view.
âThis is your fault, you know,â you tell him, but the complaint holds little water. He lets you splash him again, a full wave that hits against his chest, and you take another step closer to himâjust close enough for him to hook a gangly leg around your own and pull you down, spinning gracefully and catching you just as your hair begins to fan out in the water. One arm holds securely under the middle of your back, while the other settles on your hip.
âYou just canât stay away from me, I know.â The smug confidence he wears is equally endearing and enraging. You begin to counter him with an assholeâ, one hand moving up to poke his cheek, but before you can make contact he completely retracts his arms and you submerge with a shriek. When you come up moments later, coughing and spluttering in surprise, Childe is laughing so hard that heâs bent over with his hands on his knees. Heâs completely unsuspecting, the perfect target for you to grab the back of his head and shove his face into the water, too.
Except, Childe topples over his own long legs, the two of you falling down messily and his head bumping against your knee as you land flat on your butt. He makes a face, rubbing his cheeks as he kneels. Despite how you joke around, itâs clear that the bump actually hurt, and you canât help but feel a little pang of guilt at the genuine pain he displayed. Holding his head, Childe moves closer, until heâs easily looming over you with your hands braced against the sand and the water level just under your chin.
âYouâre so difficult,â he sighs, your foreheads pressed together. The feeling of salt grinding between your skin is just on the edge of unpleasant, but nowhere near enough to make you back away. âNearly gave me a black eye there.â
âArenât we both?â You smile in response, cupping a cool, wet hand over the cheek heâd hit on your leg. His eyes flutter closed, and he breathes out a sigh against your nose as tension visibly drains from his shoulders. Itâs like the final traces of his daily life have fallen away with just your touchâgone is the hedonistic Childe, the calculating Tartaglia, leaving only the scattered fragments of a Snezhnayan boy far from home. Even at peace, thereâs a longing in the way he looks at youâeyes wide as if in disbelief, unable to hold your gaze with all of his defenses stripped down.
âYea. We are,â he concedesâso quiet that you barely make out the words over the sound of the wind and the soft movements of water. Difficult, and heâs right: nothing involving a Fatui Harbinger will ever be easy.
âI think youâre well worth the trouble,â you confess, letting your eyes meet his. They donât shy away this time, thereâs a blue fire blazing somewhere in the back of his soul that warms your cheeks and has your free hand clenching the sand underneath. Certainly well worth the trouble, for all of the moments he looks at you like thisâholding the intensity of a thousand suns and all of the love and guidance offered by the moon, an entire universe dancing in his usually lifeless eyes.
And the trouble is most worth it when Ajaxânot Childe, not Tartaglia, but Ajax, closes the miniscule gap and kisses you under the witness of the moonâyou can be at ease.
âI am?â He teases, a whisper against your lips. You roll your eyes before the hand on his cheek slips to the back of his head, and you pull him close once more.
