#hair and eye colors as well as skin tones

[luimagines]

hellooooo im new kinda-

but i was wondering if you could do a twi x reader but the reader is insecure about their appearance?

ps: keep up the good work!

Okie dokie artichokie! You got it! :D

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

"I have nothing to wear."

"Just pick something!"

"Like what? Nothing works!"

Uh-oh. Link didn't like that tone you were using.

He was wondering what was taking so long for you to get ready. He had planned to that you to the festival in Castle Town but this was something that he didn't expect. You were usually faster than this.

"What do you mean?" Link asks gently. He thinks he can guess what's wrong. "Can I see what you have?"

You had mentioned wanting to get something new for the special occasion but he had yet to see what you had chosen. You wanted it to be a surprise.

"...Yes. You can come in."

Oh dear, you really mustn't be feeling well if you're willing to ruin said surprise.

Link sighs and walks in. You're holding up a dress to yourself in the mirror. Two different options lay on your bed, waiting to be tried on. Or rather, have already been tried on and rejected.

"I like this color." You say, defeat coloring your tone. "But I don't like the way my shoulders look in it."

Link tilts his head. He can't see anything wrong with it, but he knows that's not what you need to hear. "What about the other ones?"

"Those were back ups." You pout, tossing the new outfit onto the bed with reckless abandon. "But I don't want to wear those tonight."

Link bite his tongue in thought. He didn't think there was anything wrong with the outfit or with your shoulders. It wasn't even on his mind.

"Try it on for me anyway." He finds himself saying. "At least let me see you in it."

"Ok, fine." You sigh, a little disappointed in yourself. Link can see it and he won't stand for it.

He steps out of the room momentarily so you can change.

You step out as well with the clothes on moments later. Link feels his breath leave his chest. You're beautiful.

But he can see already that your insecurities are beginning to take over. You give him a halfhearted twirl with pathetic flourish. "Ta da."

Link tries to hide his amusement and takes your hand, pulling you towards him. He gives you a proper twirl.

"You're gorgeous."

"...You think so?"

Oh merciful heavens, the tiny hope in your voice is a vice around his heart.

"I have eyes." He teases gently and pulls back to give the impression that he's giving this genuine thought. It's not that he wants to trick you, but there's really nothing wrong here. He has to let you believe that your beautiful no matter what.

He refuses to let you be uncomfortable in your own skin.

"Mmmmhm." He grins and purposely dances with you back into your room. You end up giggling at his antics, hanging onto him as he nearly throws you off of you feet.

"Link, please!" You laugh louder.

"Just like this then. I've figured it out." He says proudly, standing in front of your mirror again. Link had wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. "Is this better?"

You're smiling brightly, trying to see how it's any different in the mirror. But you realize. It doesn't matter. This outfit actually looks quite nice.

"It's because you're hiding my shoulders." You say gently, trying to pull away.

He doesn't let you. "No, it's because we're together." Link stresses, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. "Just stay by my side the whole time, you won't even notice."

You sigh and look back into the mirror.

He has a point. With his arm around you, you don't even see what's been bothering you anymore. You shake your head and smile again, your heart a little lighter than before. "You're to have your arm around the whole time then."

Link snorts. "Believe me, that will not be a problem."

[rheseoneseon]

𝙏𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙢𝙚, 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙠𝙚 𝙢𝙚, 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙢𝙚—𝘼𝙣 𝘼𝙞𝙏𝙖𝙣𝙞 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙘.

𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙍𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 - 𝘼𝙙𝙪𝙡𝙩/𝙈𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚. 𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 - 𝘼𝙞𝙯𝙚𝙣 𝙭 𝙏𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙖. 𝘽𝙖𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙣 @valartrion's 𝘿𝙤𝙪𝙟𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞. 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙮 𝙢𝙚. 𝘿𝙤𝙢! 𝙏𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙖 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙎𝙪𝙗! 𝘼𝙞𝙯𝙚𝙣.

Down in the bowels of Mūken, the air was thick with an oppressive silence. The deepest and most forbidden layer of the Central Great Underground Prison held the most dangerous, the most cunning, and, perhaps, the most powerful captive the Soul Society had ever seen: Sōsuke Aizen.

The prisoner sat bound to a darkened throne of restraints, his body bound and sealed, yet his presence still emanated an aura of control, even in confinement. His garb was entirely black, save for the white rag loosely draped over his shoulders, and his single brown eye, visible from beneath an eyepatch, gleamed with hidden knowledge.

Despite his position, the notorious ex-captain exuded an untouchable power that even his captors feared.

All except one.

Tanisha Chōdhori, the Warden of Mūken, moved with a predatory grace as she strode across the cold floor toward her prisoner.

The crimson haori she wore fluttered behind her like a stream of blood, her shihakushō teasing the swell of her breasts with its dangerously low neckline.

Her thick, raven-black hair cascaded down her back, her onyx eyes glinting with a hunger only Aizen seemed capable of satisfying. Her lips, painted the color of ripe cherries, twisted into a smirk as she stopped in front of him. “You've been quiet today, Sōsuke,” she began, her voice a sultry murmur that dripped with dominance. “What's on your mind? Could it be you're finally submitting to the fate I've bestowed upon you?”

Aizen's brown eye flicked up to meet hers. His lips, curved in a faint smile, betrayed nothing but amusement. Even shackled to his chair, with restraints biting into his wrists and ankles, Aizen never lost the aura of command. He was not a man easily tamed. “I wonder,” he began, his voice smooth, calm as always, “if you truly believe you hold power over me, Tanisha.” His smirk deepened. “Do you think I’m beyond such base desires, my dear warden?”

Tanisha’s eyes darkened, a gleam of challenge sparking in their depths. She stepped closer until her knees were pressed against his. Leaning forward, she braced herself on the armrests of his chair, trapping him between her thighs as she straddled his waist.

Her crimson haori brushed against his chest, the soft fabric of her shihakushō teasing against his skin. “Oh, Sōsuke,” she purred, her lips hovering just inches from his. “You feel desire. Raw, unfiltered desire.” Her gaze flicked down, amusement coloring her tone. “Exclusively for me.”

She leaned in further, her breath ghosting over his lips. “Perhaps, to fuck me?”

The sharp intake of breath that escaped Aizen was barely perceptible, but she felt it—his body tensing beneath her, the pulse of reiatsu thrumming from him in response to her proximity. Her hand slid up the back of his neck, fingers curling into his slicked-back hair as she yanked his head back, forcing him to meet her gaze head-on. She was teasing him, testing his boundaries, knowing full well that she held all the keys to his release. His physical, emotional, and perhaps—eventually—his sexual freedom.

Tanisha’s lips crashed against his with a ferocity that belied her elegant appearance. The kiss was not gentle; it was raw, savage, and filled with the pent-up desire she had held back for millennia.

Her tongue forced its way into his mouth, tasting him, claiming him in a way that no one else ever could. She moaned softly against his lips, her hips grinding against his with increasing pressure. Aizen gasped against her mouth, his chest heaving as his body betrayed him. His cock was straining against his bindings, painfully hard beneath her weight. Even as he struggled to maintain his composure, there was no hiding the visceral reaction his body had to her dominance.

Tanisha pulled back slightly, her lips brushing over his chin and down the line of his jaw as she whispered into his ear, “You belong to me, Sōsuke. No one else could ever have this hold over you.”

Aizen’s eye gleamed with defiance even as his breathing quickened. “Do you really believe that?” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse, though laced with amusement. “Do you think I don’t see what this is?”

Tanisha’s hand gripped his hair tighter, tugging his head to the side as she nipped at the exposed skin of his throat. “What do you think it is, then? Enlighten me.”

Aizen chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “A game, Tanisha. You’ve always been obsessed with control. But tell me—who is really in control right now? You… or me?

”Her eyes flared at the challenge, and with a growl, she pushed her body against his harder, grinding her hips into him in a manner that left no room for doubt. “I hold all the power, Sōsuke. I decide when you move, when you breathe… and when you release.”

She shifted, pressing her core against his hardened length, the friction drawing a strained groan from his lips. His chest rose and fell more rapidly now, his calm facade beginning to crack beneath the pressure of her ministrations. He was fighting it, as always, but she could feel the pull—the magnetic force that tied him to her in this twisted, beautiful struggle for dominance.

“You’re trembling,” she whispered, her lips brushing the shell of his ear. “You’ve never been good at hiding what you want, have you?”

Aizen's jaw tightened, his smirk fading as his resolve began to waver. His eye met hers again, and in that brief moment, there was something raw and dangerous between them. “I could break you if I wanted to,” Aizen muttered, though the tension in his voice betrayed the lie. “Even now.”

Tanisha chuckled, her lips trailing down his neck. “But you won’t. Because deep down, you know you want this just as much as I do.” Her fingers slid down his chest, tracing the hard planes of his muscles through his prison garb. “Maybe even more.”

Her hand dipped lower, brushing over the hard bulge straining against the fabric between them. She grinned wickedly as Aizen hissed through his teeth, his body jerking involuntarily against her touch. “You can’t hide it from me, Sōsuke,” she taunted. “No matter how hard you try.”

He clenched his jaw, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he struggled against his restraints. “You think this is enough to break me? To control me?” he hissed.

Tanisha’s grip on him tightened, her nails digging into his scalp as she leaned down, her lips inches from his. “Oh, I don’t need to break you,” she murmured, her breath warm against his skin. "I just need you to admit it.”

She rolled her hips against his, the friction driving him mad, and a guttural groan slipped from his throat before he could stop it. His head fell back against the chair, his breathing ragged as his control began to slip.

Tanisha smiled victoriously, her hand cupping his face as she kissed him again, softer this time, but no less possessive. “Say it,” she whispered against his lips. “Say that you want me.”

Aizen's breath was shaky, and for the briefest of moments, he looked like he might give in. But then, with a sudden surge of defiance, he grinned—a wicked, knowing grin. "“You assume too much, Tanisha.”

Her eyes narrowed, and before he could say anything more, she yanked his head back again, forcing him to look up at her. “I’ll make you admit it, Sōsuke,” she growled, her voice dripping with raw, unfiltered desire. “Even if it takes me an eternity.”

Aizen’s smirk faltered, and for the first time, true uncertainty flickered in his gaze. Tanisha could feel it—the tension between them, the push and pull of power, desire, and control. It was intoxicating, and she wasn’t about to let go. Not until he was hers, completely.

He suddenly gasped, an uncharacteristic sound from a man usually so composed, as Tanisha slowly unzipped the front of his black garb. The fabric fell away, revealing the hard planes of his muscled chest, the smooth expanse of his abdomen, and finally his cock, already swollen and rigid, straining painfully against his restraints.

Tanisha’s breath hitched, her onyx eyes darkening with desire as she gazed down at him. She took her time, her fingers tracing the contours of his chest, her lips curling into a predatory smile as she saw the full extent of his arousal.

“My, my,” she whispered, her voice low and sultry. “So much for being above ‘base desires,’ Sōsuke. Look at you.” She ran her fingers along his length, teasingly light, watching with amusement as his body twitched beneath her touch. “So hard… and for me.”

Aizen’s jaw clenched, his eye narrowing as he fought to maintain control. “You overestimate your influence, Tanisha,” he muttered, though his voice was tight, strained. “This is simply a physiological reaction.”

Tanisha laughed, a rich, throaty sound that echoed through the cold chamber. “Is that so?” she asked, her lips brushing the shell of his ear as she leaned closer. “Then I suppose I’ll have to test that theory, won’t I?”

Without another word, she lifted herself slightly, positioning her hips directly over his throbbing cock. She didn’t touch him, not yet—just hovered, allowing the heat from her core to tease him, to drive him mad with anticipation. Her folds were slick with arousal, and Aizen could feel the wetness of her, just inches away from where he needed her most.

He grit his teeth, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing him break. But his body betrayed him, his cock twitching in response to her proximity, and she noticed.

“Oh, Sōsuke,” she purred, her hips lowering just enough that the head of his cock brushed against her folds. The sensation drew a sharp intake of breath from him, and she smiled victoriously. “You say you’re unaffected, but your body tells a different story.”

Aizen’s breathing quickened, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he fought to maintain control. He could feel her wetness, the slick heat of her teasing against him, but still, she refused to let him in. It was torture, the kind that chipped away at his carefully constructed facade of indifference.

“Tanisha,” he growled, his voice low, dangerous. “Enough games.”

She raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in her eyes as she met his gaze. “Games? This is no game, Sōsuke.” She leaned in closer, her lips brushing his as she spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper. “This is a lesson.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, she lowered herself further, just enough to let the head of his cock slide between her folds, teasingly close but not quite inside. Aizen groaned, his hands clenching into fists as he strained against his restraints. His entire body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with desire, but still, she kept him on the edge.

Tanisha’s breath hitched as she felt the head of him brushing against her, his cock teasing her entrance. She was just as affected as he was, her body aching with need, but she wasn’t ready to give him what he wanted. Not yet.

“You’re trembling, Sōsuke,” she murmured, her hips moving in slow, tantalizing circles, allowing the head of his cock to rub against her folds without ever entering. “Do you want me that badly?”

Aizen’s eye burned with frustration, his smirk gone, replaced by something far more raw and dangerous. “You enjoy this far too much,” he hissed, though his voice was laced with the kind of desperation he usually kept hidden. “It’s pathetic.”

Tanisha laughed again, the sound low and sultry as she ground her hips down harder, teasing him with just enough pressure to drive him insane. “Pathetic, is it? Then why are you so hard, Sōsuke? Why do you gasp when I touch you? Why does your body react to me like this?” She paused, her lips brushing his neck as she whispered, “Admit it. You want me.”

Aizen’s breath was ragged now, his composure slipping with every agonizing second that passed. He was losing control, and he hated it—hated that she had this power over him, hated that his body was betraying him in the most primal of ways. But even as he struggled, even as he fought to keep his walls up, he couldn’t deny the truth. “Damn you,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tanisha smiled triumphantly, her hand sliding up his chest as she whispered into his ear, “That’s more like it.”

Without warning, she shifted her hips, sliding his cock between her folds in one swift, fluid motion. The sudden, overwhelming sensation of being inside her ripped a groan from Aizen’s throat, his head falling back against the chair as his body arched in response. He was fully inside her now, her tight, wet heat gripping him in a way that made his head spin.

Tanisha moaned softly, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she adjusted to the feeling of him inside her. “You feel that, Sōsuke?” she whispered, her voice trembling with need. “This is what you’ve been denying yourself.”

Aizen couldn’t respond, couldn’t form coherent thoughts as the pleasure consumed him. His body acted on instinct, his hips jerking upward as he tried to thrust deeper into her, but the restraints held him in place, leaving him at her mercy.Tanisha reveled in his frustration, her hips moving in slow, deliberate motions as she rode him. She could feel him throbbing inside her, the tension in his body building with each passing second. His cock was buried deep within her, stretching her in ways that left her breathless, but she wasn’t about to let him take control. Not yet.

“You want to fuck me, don’t you, Sōsuke?” she murmured, her lips brushing his ear. “You want to lose yourself in me.”

Aizen’s eye fluttered shut, his breathing ragged as he fought against the wave of pleasure crashing over him. He wanted to resist, wanted to keep his composure, but the way her body gripped him, the way her slick folds clenched around his cock—it was too much. Too intense.

“Say it,” she demanded, her hips moving faster now, riding him harder. “Say you want me.”

Aizen’s control shattered, a low growl rumbling from his chest as he finally gave in. “I want you,” he gasped, his voice raw, desperate. “I want you, Tanisha.”

Tanisha’s heart raced at his words, a surge of satisfaction flooding through her as she heard him admit what she had known all along. She leaned down, her lips capturing his in a fierce, possessive kiss as she moved her hips in rhythm with his shallow thrusts.“You’re mine,” she whispered against his lips, her voice trembling with desire. “Only mine.”

Aizen growled against her mouth, his hips jerking upward as he strained against the restraints, desperate to thrust deeper into her. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t move—couldn’t take control.

And that only made him want her more.

Tanisha’s body was on fire, her muscles tightening as she rode him harder, faster, her moans mingling with his ragged breaths as they both teetered on the edge. She could feel his cock twitching inside her, his entire body trembling with the effort of holding back. But she wasn’t ready to let him go just yet.

“Not yet,” she gasped, her hips slowing as she teased him, drawing out his pleasure, denying him the release he so desperately craved. “You don’t get to come until I say so.”

Aizen groaned, his body taut with tension as he fought to keep himself in check. He was so close, so painfully close, but she wouldn’t let him have it.

“Tanisha,” he gasped, his voice a raw, broken plea. “Please.”

Her eyes darkened with triumph, her lips curling into a wicked smile as she heard the desperation in his voice. “Say it again,” she demanded, her hips grinding down against him, driving him even closer to the edge.

“I want you,” he growled, his voice hoarse. “I need you, Tanisha.”

That was all she needed to hear. With a final, powerful thrust, she rode him hard, her body tightening around his cock as she finally let herself go. The sensation was overwhelming, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave as she cried out his name, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she trembled with the force of it.

Aizen’s body followed suit, his hips jerking upward as he thrust deep inside her, his cock pulsing as he spilled into her, the pleasure so intense it left him gasping for breath. For a long moment, the only sound in the chamber was their ragged breathing, both of them coming down from the high of their release.

Tanisha remained straddling him, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm, her hands resting on his chest as she caught her breath. Aizen’s eye fluttered open, his chest still heaving as he looked up at her, a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction flickering in his gaze.

The moment their bodies parted, Tanisha slid off Aizen’s lap, her eyes never leaving his as she gracefully dropped to her knees between his legs. The crimson haori she wore pooled around her like blood, her movements fluid and predatory, each step in this dance of control precisely measured. She allowed herself a moment to take in the sight of him, bound, panting, and utterly at her mercy. His cock was still rock hard, gleaming with their shared arousal, twitching in the cool air of the prison.

Aizen’s eye followed her, that same predatory gleam faltering as she settled between his thighs, her soft hands reaching for his length. The moment her fingers wrapped around him, his body jerked involuntarily, his muscles twitching in response to her touch.

“You’re still so hard,” she murmured, her voice low and sultry, filled with amusement as she gave his cock a slow stroke, watching as his chest heaved. “I thought you might’ve had enough, but…” She smirked, her thumb teasing the sensitive tip, watching a bead of precum form at the slit. “I guess you’re far from satisfied.”

Aizen’s breath hitched, his body betraying him once again as his hips bucked slightly into her hand. His normally composed expression was starting to crack—his lips parted as he tried to maintain some semblance of control, but the twitch in his brow and the quickened rise and fall of his chest told her all she needed to know. “You... enjoy... testing me, don’t you?” he rasped, his voice low and strained, but still attempting to maintain a shred of his usual calm.

Tanisha chuckled, her onyx eyes glinting with wicked delight. “I told you, Sōsuke. You’re mine to play with.” She leaned forward, letting her breasts press against the base of his cock, her fingers guiding him between the soft valley of her flesh. “And right now… I’m in the mood to play.”

She pushed her breasts together, enveloping his cock in the soft warmth of her chest, and slowly began to move, sliding his length between the swell of her breasts. Aizen’s reaction was immediate—his hips jerked upward slightly, a sharp intake of breath escaping him as his cock slid through the warm, slick valley she had created.

“Ahh…” Aizen exhaled, his head falling back slightly as his body trembled in response to the sensation. His composure was slipping further, his eye squeezing shut as the pleasure began to overtake him.

Tanisha’s smirk widened as she watched him struggle. She had him—really had him this time. She could feel it in the way his muscles tensed, the way his hips moved involuntarily, seeking more friction, more sensation. He was losing control, and she loved every second of it.

“Look at you,” she purred, her hips shifting slightly as she pressed her breasts tighter around him. “The mighty Sōsuke Aizen, reduced to this… whimpering, needy mess.”

Aizen’s jaw clenched, but the sharp retort that usually followed was nowhere to be found. Instead, a low, broken sound escaped him—a sound that was dangerously close to a whimper, and Tanisha reveled in it.

She lowered her head, her tongue darting out to lick at the tip of his cock as it peeked through the top of her cleavage with each slow thrust. The taste of him, mixed with their earlier release, sent a thrill of power through her, and she moaned softly, her lips brushing against the sensitive head as she teased him further.

“Tanisha...” Aizen groaned, his voice shaky, his control unraveling more with each passing moment. He was fighting it, as he always did, but she could feel the tension in his body—the way he trembled under her touch, the way his hips bucked slightly, desperate for more.

She flicked her tongue over the tip of his cock again, drawing another ragged gasp from his lips before she wrapped her lips around the head, sucking lightly as she continued to slide his length between her breasts. Aizen’s entire body jerked in response, his cock twitching in her mouth as a low, broken moan escaped him.“Fuck…” Aizen’s voice was a whisper, filled with frustration and need, his head falling back against the chair as his hips involuntarily thrust upward, pushing his cock deeper between her breasts.

Tanisha grinned around him, her lips stretching into a wicked smile as she took more of him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the sensitive head. She sucked harder now, letting her lips slide down the length of him with each thrust of his cock through her breasts, the combination of sensations driving him mad.

“Surrender to it, Sōsuke,” she murmured, her voice vibrating against his length as she pulled back for a moment, letting the tip of his cock rest against her lips. “There’s no use fighting me. You want this. You need this.”

Aizen’s response was a strained groan, his hips jerking again as he bucked into her mouth, unable to stop himself. The sound that escaped him this time—a soft, needy whimper—was enough to send a wave of heat straight to her core. He was breaking, and the thought of it, of reducing him to this, was intoxicating.

She moaned softly as she took him deeper into her mouth, her hands sliding up to grip her breasts, pressing them tighter around his cock as she sucked him harder. Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock, teasing the sensitive underside as she bobbed her head, her movements quickening in time with his desperate thrusts.

“Tanisha…” Aizen gasped, his voice trembling with a mix of frustration and desire. His hands, still bound to the chair, clenched into fists as he fought against the restraints, his body twitching with every stroke of her tongue, every squeeze of her breasts around his cock.

She pulled back just enough to let the tip of his cock rest against her tongue, her lips parting as she gazed up at him, her eyes dark with lust. “You like that, don’t you, Sōsuke?” she whispered, her voice low and teasing. “You like being at my mercy.”

Aizen’s eye fluttered open, his gaze locking with hers, but the usual defiance was gone. All that remained was raw, desperate need, and it sent a thrill through her like nothing else.He didn’t respond, couldn’t respond—his breath came in short, ragged gasps as his body trembled, his hips bucking into her mouth with increasing urgency. The sight of him, usually so composed and in control, reduced to this—submissive, whimpering, desperate for release—was enough to push her own arousal to the brink.

She moaned softly as she took him deeper into her mouth again, her hands squeezing her breasts tighter around his cock as she sucked him harder, her tongue flicking over the sensitive head with each stroke. Aizen’s breathing quickened, his chest heaving as his body tensed, his muscles quivering with the effort of holding back. “Let go,” she whispered against his length, her lips brushing the tip of his cock as she pulled back slightly. “Give in to it, Sōsuke. I want to hear you beg.”

Aizen’s body jerked, a low, broken sound escaping his throat as he struggled against the overwhelming pleasure. His head fell back, his eye squeezing shut as he bit down on his lip, trying desperately to hold onto the last vestiges of his control.But it was slipping, fast.

“Tanisha…” His voice was a hoarse whisper, barely audible over the sound of his ragged breathing. His hips bucked again, his cock twitching in her hands as she stroked him harder, faster, her breasts sliding up and down his length with each thrust.

“Say it,” she demanded, her voice firm, commanding. “Beg for it, Sōsuke.”

Aizen groaned, his entire body trembling as he fought to hold on, but it was a losing battle. His cock twitched again, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as his muscles tensed, his control slipping further and further away.

Finally, with a broken, desperate whimper, he gave in.“Please…” he gasped, his voice shaky, filled with frustration and need. “Please, Tanisha… I need it.”

Tanisha’s smile widened, her lips curling into a wicked grin as she heard the plea in his voice. “Good boy,” she murmured, her voice dripping with satisfaction as she lowered her head again, her lips wrapping around the head of his cock once more.

She sucked him hard, her tongue swirling around the tip as she bobbed her head, her hands squeezing her breasts tighter around him as she worked him over, driving him closer and closer to the edge.

Aizen’s body tensed, his hips jerking upward as he thrust into her mouth, his cock twitching with the force of his impending release. His breaths came in short, ragged gasps, his entire body trembling as he teetered on the brink of oblivion. “Come for me, Sōsuke,” she whispered, her voice low and commanding as she took him deeper into her mouth, her tongue teasing the sensitive underside of his cock. “Let go.”

That was all it took. With a final, desperate thrust, Aizen’s body convulsed, his cock twitching violently in her mouth as he came, hot and fast, spilling himself down her throat. His entire body shook with the force of his release, a low, broken moan escaping his lips as he finally let himself go.

But Tanisha wasn't done.

Aizen was still catching his breath, his chest heaving, his muscles tense as the lingering aftershocks of his release pulsed through his body. His head hung low, his single eye half-lidded as he struggled to regain his composure. But the momentary peace didn’t last long.

Tanisha hadn’t moved from her position between his legs, her onyx eyes fixed on him with a glint of sadistic amusement. She could see it all—the sheen of sweat coating his skin, the way his body still trembled slightly, and the faint flush of pink spreading across his normally pale cheeks.

She smirked, her lips curling into a wicked grin as an idea formed in her mind. Something darker, more experimental. The power she wielded over him was intoxicating, and now, she would push it further. Much further.

Without a word, Tanisha held out her hand, her fingers curling as her reiatsu flared around her. A faint shimmer appeared in the air between them, the energy crackling as crystalline shapes began to form in her palm. The crystals—sharp, translucent, and meticulously crafted—morphed into long, slender objects, their smooth surfaces catching the dim light of Mūken as they solidified.

Aizen’s eye flicked upward, his brow furrowing as he watched the objects materialize. Confusion flickered in his gaze for a moment, followed by a glint of suspicion. “Tanisha,” he began, his voice still rough from their earlier exchange, “what are you—”

Before he could finish, Tanisha’s hand closed around one of the crystalline urethral toys she had created, her fingers tracing the smooth, sleek surface as she studied him with predatory delight. She could see the exact moment realization dawned on him, his eye widening slightly, his breath catching in his throat. “Oh, you didn’t think I was done with you, did you?” she cooed, her voice a soft, teasing purr as she held the crystalline object in front of him, letting him get a good look at what she had in store. “You’re not nearly broken enough for my liking, Sōsuke.”

Aizen’s body tensed, his muscles twitching involuntarily as he struggled to comprehend what was about to happen. “What… what are you planning?” he asked, his tone more cautious now, his usual confidence eroded by exhaustion and the vulnerability of his current state.

Tanisha chuckled softly, the sound sending shivers down his spine as she leaned closer, her face hovering just inches from his. “I’m going to push you,” she whispered, her breath ghosting over his lips. “Further than you’ve ever been pushed before.”

Without another word, she took hold of his still semi-erect cock, her grip firm yet gentle as she guided the smooth, crystalline toy toward the sensitive tip. Aizen’s body jerked in response, his breath catching as he realized what was about to happen.

“Tanisha,” he gasped, his voice shaky as his body tensed in anticipation. “You can’t be serious—”

But she was.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Tanisha pressed the tip of the crystalline object against his slit, her eyes never leaving his as she applied just enough pressure to make him squirm. The cold, smooth surface slid inside him, inch by agonizing inch, and Aizen’s entire body seized up, his muscles going rigid as a strangled cry escaped his lips.

The sensation was unlike anything he had ever experienced—sharp, intense, and utterly overwhelming. His body fought against it, instinctively recoiling from the foreign object being inserted into such a sensitive place, but Tanisha’s grip on him was unyielding. She pushed the crystalline toy deeper, her movements slow and precise, watching with sadistic delight as Aizen’s composure shattered.

He gasped, his head falling back against the chair as his hips jerked involuntarily, his body twitching in response to the overwhelming stimulation. “T-Tanisha…” he stammered, his voice barely more than a whisper, his usual calm completely obliterated. “W-What are you doing…?”

Tanisha’s smirk deepened, her hand tightening around his cock as she slid the toy even further inside him, the sharp edges of the crystal brushing against the delicate tissue of his urethra. “I told you,” she murmured, her voice low and dangerous, “I’m going to break you, Sōsuke.”

Aizen’s body trembled violently, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as the toy slid deeper inside him, the sensation too intense, too foreign for him to process. He could feel every inch of it, the cool, unyielding surface of the crystal pressing against his most sensitive nerves, and it was driving him mad.

“Ahhh…!” Aizen’s cry was guttural, his entire body convulsing as he tried—and failed—to control the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. His skin was flushed pink, a sheen of sweat coating his chest and neck as he gasped for air, his body slick with the effort of holding himself together.

Tanisha’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she watched him struggle, her thumb teasing the base of his cock as she continued to work the crystalline toy deeper into him. “You’re sweating, Sōsuke,” she cooed, her voice filled with amusement as she leaned closer, her lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “Flushed pink… trembling… I’ve never seen you like this.”

Aizen’s teeth clenched, his head rolling to the side as he fought to suppress the sounds that threatened to escape his throat. But he couldn’t stop it—not with her doing this to him. His body was betraying him in ways he never thought possible, and the humiliation of it all only fueled his frustration.

“I… didn’t know… you could… use your powers like this,” he managed to gasp, his voice broken and shaky as he struggled to find words. His eye flicked to the crystalline toy still buried inside him, a mixture of shock and disbelief flickering across his face.

Tanisha chuckled softly, her hand sliding up his chest to grip his jaw, forcing him to look at her. “You thought you knew everything about me, didn’t you?” she whispered, her voice laced with condescension. “You thought you could predict me, control me… but here we are.”

She leaned in closer, her breath hot against his skin as she pressed her lips to his neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. “I’m always one step ahead of you, Sōsuke. Always.”

Aizen groaned, his body jerking as she twisted the crystalline toy inside him, sending a shockwave of sensation through his already overstimulated body. His breath came in ragged gasps, his entire body trembling uncontrollably as he fought to maintain some semblance of control. But it was slipping—fast

.“You’re mine,” Tanisha whispered, her voice dripping with satisfaction as she watched him unravel beneath her touch. “Completely and utterly mine.”

Aizen’s eye fluttered shut, his body quivering as the words sank in. He could feel it—the loss of control, the way his body was responding to her in ways he never thought possible. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

“I—” Aizen tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat, his voice breaking as another wave of pleasure and pain surged through him. His body arched against the restraints, his hips bucking involuntarily as the crystalline toy pressed deeper into him, the sensation driving him to the brink.

Tanisha’s smirk widened as she watched him squirm, her fingers trailing down his chest, teasing the sensitive skin as she cooed softly into his ear. “Look at you,” she whispered, her voice filled with amusement. “Sweating, trembling, flushed pink… I’ve never seen you like this, Sōsuke. So vulnerable. So… submissive.”

Aizen’s breath hitched, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his body quaked beneath her touch. He was drenched in sweat, his skin flushed a deep, embarrassing pink, and his mind was spinning, unable to comprehend what was happening to him.

“I told you,” Tanisha continued, her hand sliding up to grip his jaw once more, forcing him to look at her. “I always win.”

Aizen’s body jerked violently as the crystalline toy twisted inside him again, sending another shockwave of sensation through his already overstimulated nerves. His head fell back against the chair, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as his entire body trembled with the force of it.Tanisha’s smirk deepened, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she watched him break before her, the mighty Sōsuke Aizen reduced to a quivering, helpless mess. She had him—completely and utterly—and she reveled in every second of it.

“You’re mine, Sōsuke,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his as she leaned in closer, her voice soft and commanding. “Now and forever.”

Aizen’s eye fluttered open, his gaze locking with hers, but the defiance was gone. All that remained was raw, unfiltered vulnerability—the realization that, in this moment, she truly owned him. And as his body continued to tremble beneath her touch, he finally surrendered, his voice barely more than a broken whisper as he gasped, “Yes… Tanisha.”

She smiled victoriously, her fingers tracing the length of his jaw as she whispered back, “What an obedient slut.”

Tanisha’s eyes glimmered with satisfaction as she looked at the flushed and trembling form of Sōsuke Aizen, still trapped in his seat, sweat beading down his chest and his composure shattered in a way she had never seen before. The once indomitable prisoner, the one who had always exuded absolute control, was now reduced to a gasping, broken man, entirely at her mercy.

She could see the confusion, the mix of emotions swirling in his gaze, as if he didn’t know how to process what was happening. And that thrilled her.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Tanisha released one of Aizen’s restraints, her fingers deftly undoing the seal that kept his arm bound. His hand twitched the moment it was freed, and his breath quickened as he realized he was no longer fully confined.

“Get up,” she commanded, her voice cold and firm, leaving no room for argument.

Aizen blinked in surprise, still panting as he met her gaze. His mind was racing, trying to catch up with what was happening, but his body seemed too overwhelmed to react properly. He wasn’t used to this—this helplessness, this submission, and the way his body betrayed him at every turn. He sat there for a moment, unmoving, his chest still rising and falling with ragged breaths.

“I said, get up,” Tanisha repeated, her voice sharper now as her gaze hardened. She released the last restraint around his legs and gave him a stern look. “You’re not a prisoner in this moment, Sōsuke. You’re something else entirely.”

Aizen’s muscles trembled as he pushed himself off the chair, the last remnants of his usual composure struggling to return. He stood before her, fully exposed, his cock still hard and glistening, his body slick with sweat. His eyes flickered toward her, uncertainty clouding his gaze.

Tanisha smirked as she leaned back, resting against the now-vacant chair that Aizen had just vacated. “Sit,” she ordered, her tone dark and possessive. It wasn’t until then that Aizen noticed the crystalline cock that had materialized, protruding from a strap around her waist. The thing was massive, smooth, and glittering like pure crystal, a testament to Tanisha’s control over her powers. It radiated a faint aura of her spiritual energy, and Aizen’s eye widened in shock.

He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry, realizing what she intended. “Tanisha…” he started, his voice low and almost trembling, the last vestiges of resistance flickering in his expression. “You can’t possibly mean…”

“Oh, but I do,” she purred, her voice soft yet commanding, her fingers beckoning him forward. “Now, Sōsuke, sit back down—on me.”

His breath hitched, a flash of something unrecognizable crossing his face. Aizen, the one who controlled everything and everyone, was being commanded—being asked to surrender in a way he never had before. He hesitated, his body betraying his hesitation as his cock twitched involuntarily.

The weight of her command sank into his skin like the touch of her crystalline shards.

Tanisha raised an eyebrow, her patience thinning. “Are you going to make me repeat myself again? You’re not in control here, Sōsuke.” Her eyes narrowed, and her voice dropped to a sultry whisper. “I am. Now, sit.”

Aizen’s jaw clenched, but he stepped forward slowly, his legs trembling slightly as he moved toward her. He felt vulnerable, stripped of his dignity, but some part of him—the part that had always been curious, always craving more—couldn’t resist.

He lowered himself slowly, his body inching toward hers, and soon, he was perched on her lap, his legs on either side of her as she smirked up at him.

“That’s better,” Tanisha said with a wicked smile, her hands moving to guide his hips. “You look beautiful like this, Sōsuke. Completely mine.”

Aizen’s breath came in shallow pants as he felt the crystalline cock pressing against his entrance, the cold, smooth surface sending a shiver through his body. He swallowed hard, his body tensing as Tanisha’s hands guided him downward, positioning him over the massive toy. His eye fluttered shut, and he let out a soft, shaky breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to mentally prepare himself.

“Relax,” she cooed, her hands gripping his waist firmly. “It’ll be easier if you don’t resist.”

Aizen’s muscles tensed as he felt the crystalline cock begin to press into him, the unfamiliar sensation making him gasp sharply. His body instinctively tried to pull away, but Tanisha’s grip on his hips tightened, holding him in place.“Stay still,” she commanded, her voice hard as she pushed him down further. “You can handle this.”

Aizen’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp as the toy slowly slid into him, inch by agonizing inch. The pressure was intense, the cold surface of the crystal sending jolts of sensation through him as it filled him. He could feel every inch of it, the way it stretched him, the way it claimed him, and his body trembled uncontrollably.

Tanisha’s smirk deepened as she watched him squirm, his normally stoic expression now one of pure vulnerability. “You’re doing so well,” she murmured, her hands guiding him further down until he was fully seated on her lap, the entire length of the crystalline cock buried inside him.

Aizen’s breath hitched, a soft whimper escaping his lips as his body adjusted to the overwhelming sensation. His cock twitched against his stomach, bobbing up and down with each shallow breath, the sight of him completely at her mercy sending a surge of satisfaction through Tanisha.

“There we go,” she whispered, her voice dripping with pleasure as she gripped his waist and began to move him. “Now, let’s see how you handle this.”

With a sudden, sharp thrust, Tanisha drove the crystalline cock deeper into him, making Aizen cry out in shock. His body jerked violently, his hands flying to her shoulders for support as he gasped for air, his mind spinning from the intensity of it.

“Tanisha…!” he groaned, his voice trembling as she began to pump into him, her movements slow and deliberate, but forceful enough to make him feel every inch of the toy inside him.

His head fell forward, resting against her shoulder as his body trembled uncontrollably, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

Tanisha chuckled softly, her hands sliding up his chest as she leaned in to whisper into his ear, “You’re my possession, Sōsuke. You can’t resist me. You can’t hide from me. I own you.”

Aizen’s body convulsed as another sharp thrust sent waves of pleasure and pain coursing through him, his cock bobbing with each movement, the sensation of the crystalline toy filling him overwhelming his senses. His chest heaved, his skin slick with sweat as he cried out again, the sound muffled against her neck.

Tanisha’s hand slid down his chest, her fingers brushing against his swollen cock as she began to pump him in time with her thrusts. “Look at you,” she whispered, her voice filled with amusement as she stroked him. “So hard… so desperate. Does this feel good, Sōsuke? Do you like being fucked by me?”

Aizen’s response was a strangled moan, his body jerking as she continued to pound into him, the pressure building inside him with each thrust. His cock throbbed in her hand, twitching as she stroked him, the sensation of her hand and the toy inside him sending him spiraling toward the edge.

“Answer me,” Tanisha demanded, her hand tightening around his cock as she thrust harder into him. “Do you like this?”

“Y-Yes,” Aizen gasped, his voice barely a whisper as his body convulsed in her lap, his cock twitching uncontrollably in her hand. “Yes, Tanisha… I like it… I—ahhh—!”

Before he could finish, Tanisha thrust into him even harder, driving the crystalline cock deep into his body as she stroked him faster, her movements relentless as she pushed him closer and closer to the brink.

“You’re mine,” she whispered, her voice low and commanding as she continued to pump him. “You’ll always be mine.”

Aizen’s body jerked violently as the pleasure became too much, his head falling back as his chest heaved, his entire body trembling uncontrollably.

His cock pulsed in her hand, the sensation of her touch sending him over the edge.

With a final, broken cry, Aizen came, his cock twitching violently as he spilled himself into her hand, his body convulsing in her lap as the pleasure overwhelmed him.

His breath came in short, ragged gasps, his muscles trembling as he collapsed against her, utterly spent.

Tanisha smirked, her fingers still wrapped around his cock as she slowed her movements, allowing him to ride out the last waves of his release. “Such a good little slut,” she whispered, her voice soft and filled with satisfaction as she pulled the crystalline cock from his body, leaving him trembling and vulnerable in her arms.

“You’re mine, Sōsuke,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his ear as she held him close. “And don’t you ever forget it.”

[ohii-san]

"but x and y don't look related" "bad character design" ( because they're not copies of one another ) will forever irritate me . go outside . look at siblings with visually different parents who take traits from opposite parents . think about adopted people . think about half related people . think about how people can modify their appearance however they like and shut up for the love of GOD

[swordmaid]

shri’iia in the unnamed nyc ayla dress bc i was thinking abt the concept of drows glowing when they’re down in the underdark like some bioluminescent mushroom the other day

[i-am-church-the-cat]

omg we were talking about logan's eyes earlier but this pic of them is sooo heart eyes i thought you'd appreciate

oh my god... the ring of dark blue..... the lighter green with literal flecks of gold as they get to the pupil..... the smaller flecks of dark blue that adds dimension....... did an artist paint this? has someone done an artistic analysis of his eyes? bc i will. i lack some qualifications but i will

[solvicrafts]

I want everyone to know that when I start making plush again and get around to making one of Drizzt, I am going to be absolutely insufferable

[elabelll]

little meow meow 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 (wip)

[skelly-bean]

I love the character I’ve made for baldurs gate 3 SO. MUCH!

I feel like there is so much going on with them visually but I don’t even care they’re amazing

I also love the guardian I made a lot too - definitely put way less time into making her but I was so tired of overthinking in character creation haha

[screampied]

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, soft dom nanami, praise, p in v, mdni.

husband nanami was a patient man. he treated you like glass, so delicate—he didn’t want to ever break you. with something as passionate as intimacy though, he made sure to go slow and take his precious time with you. after all, you were his baby. yet, there’d be one time where you ask for him to be a bit more rough. just a little, he playfully raises a eyebrow at you before swiping a thumb underneath your chin. “go r…rougher?” and his words were a mere sweet whisper.

“y- yes, ‘s okay, ‘ken,” you’d nod with a tiny tremor in your voice. as he’s giving you slow, deep strokes, the heel of your foot sensually rubs down against his back. pulling him closer to you, you coat the edge of his twitching pink lips with chaste kisses. “i can handle it, promise.”

“okay, sweetheart,” a soft, genuine smile pulls against the crevices of his mouth before he returns the kissing gesture, a candied mwah. grabbing your knees, he gently moves them up toward your jostling chest. “you’re so perfect,” he groans, hearing each lewd moan elicit out of your throat like it was nothing. “mhm, hold my hand. good girl,” he breathes, his sloppy hits against your core starting to quicken and you bite your lip. in a heaving voice, he buries his face into your neck. a strong musk of cologne wafting against your nostrils. “if you want me to go rougher, i’ll go rougher, my love. just for you.”

his pace was swift and gentle—mahogany colored irises of his continue to pour into your gaze. nanami feels his heart flutter once your arms wrap around him, pulling him close. with a single arm, you drag him further into you, another hand squeezing onto his. masses of fingers intertwine between each other as you moan from his touch. with nanami accelerating in a more quick pace, he presses a kiss against the bridge of your nose.

“t- this . . alright, sweetheart?” he asks in a soothing tone, an eyebrow entwining as he meets your loving stare. god, you were just so beautiful like this underneath him. he could stare at you all day and not get bored of your beauty right in front of him. “not going too hard, am i?”

“yes, ‘s good, baby.” you nod, feeling his grip against your left hand tighten just a bit more.

with a concise sharp piston of his hips, he’s more forward and he sibilates a groaning grunt the second he feels your soddened walls grip against him in such a compressing way. as if you thought you were clingy with nanami—your pussy was even greedier, hugging tightly onto his shaft as if you never wanted to let go. granted, you didn’t.

not now, not ever..

as you depart your fingers from his, you start to feel up against nanami’s bulky arm as he’s repeatedly jerking into you. he’s panting, blond strands of hair run down his face and he has to constantly shift his head back so he can look at you. he relishes in your cute expressions—his favorite part of intimacy was to just stare into those pretty eyes of yours that successfully captured his heart.

you moan again, your hand trailing down against the veins near his arms—he’s so beefy. your fingers then reach near his wrist. clammy digits of yours ghost against the frigid texture of his pricey g-shock that swaddles around his wrist. the watch’s been broken for years, but it was a gift from you so he still proudly wears it. flaunting it with a sweet smile on his face everytime.

“f- fuuuck,” you start to babble, feeling his twitching cock continue to pump you full of staggering inches. your ankles rub all against the outer sides of his back to where it almost tickles him. nanami’s moaning right with you—hot chest pressing up against yours. skin ruthlessly slapping so loud that it’s reverb echoes throughout the entire room. it’s like a song of its own, the bed chimes in to pitch a few notes as well from the constant melodic creaking. “don’t stop, kento. ‘s good, i love you.”

“sweetheart,” he inhales a sharp breath, dimples poking against the corners of his mouth. you’re so whiney, he grips against the fat of your thighs with a single hand before you feel him still bottoming out from the inside. “oh, dear. mhm, you drive me crazy, you know that?” and his voice was lighthearted, he was still moaning himself before he’s still stretching your walls out in the process. as his chest heaves, nanami presses a long, adoring kiss against your lips before he cups your chin. “i love you too. more than you could ever know..”

[mononijikayu]

immortal sukuna who — in your second life (1).

immortal sukuna masterlist

when he saw you again, immortal sukuna thought he lost his ability to breathe.

you were as beautiful as the day he saw you, that's what immortal sukuna thought.

sure, some things were different to him. but those were bound to change, immortal sukuna knew that all too well.

the way you kept your hair or your height. even the color of your eyes or the shape of your lips. even then, you were still you. you were still the love of immortal sukuna's life.

immortal sukuna lets himself stop for a moment, as though to try and memorize how you are now, the beauty you were now.

the changes didn't matter to him. immortal sukuna doubts it would ever matter to him.

but you were living and breathing, so full of life that immortal sukuna had truly missed.

ever more beautiful than before, ever more vibrant of a life to immortal sukuna than before.

and it filled immortal sukuna with delight. for you were here again, as though his prayers were finally answered.

immortal sukuna waited patiently, he waited to be able to even glance at you again.

it's as if the gods finally vindicated him. immortal sukuna was finally favored by the gods. and he was happy. he was happy because it was you.

immortal sukuna took his first steps towards you, breath still as a stone waiting to be moved.

immortal sukuna felt your eyes bore against his, like its the first time again.

immortal sukuna could feel his heart pounding against his chest like a drum.

he couldn't describe the feeling, it was overwhelming. it was like the crashing of the sea against his skin, the rain whisking him away with a roaring tear. it was all too much for immortal sukuna.

and yet when your lips quivered into a tender smile and your eyes beamed brightly like the bright stars in the night sky, immortal sukuna could feel himself lost in you again.

"hello." you whispered to immortal sukuna with that same cheerful tone.

immortal sukuna felt frozen in place as he let your words simmer into his reality, your reality. this reality.

immortal sukuna could feel his dark scarlet eyes water, as though they were the overflowing river in a raging surge.

you looked at immortal sukuna with concern, almost identical to that look you gave him in that mountain top. he felt shivers pass through him.

"are you alright?" are the next words you muttered back to him with all the warmth in the world. warmth that btoke his long suffering winter.

immortal sukuna wiped his tears, looking up to you and felt his own lips raise upwards. more genuine than ever before.

"yes." immortal sukuna whispered back to you. "because you are here."

[nezuscribe]

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞?

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

part two of wanna be yours

summary: the aftermath of you and your husband's arranged marriage, but the better side of it. gojo satoru just loves you so much, that he's willing to bring down armies just for you

warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, very brief misunderstandings but they work it out, eating out (fem!reciving), fingering, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, he doesn’t pull out

word count: 6k

note: part two is finally done! and i think this is gonna be the last installment for this so don't ask for another part bc i will cry. as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading, she's the loml <3

jjk masterlist

there were a few things that changed after your night with satoru. 

as he promised, he got a bigger bed for his room. he promptly ordered all your things to be moved in with his, and it didn’t take long for all your belongings to melt with his. it was different from what you were used to, but you welcomed those nights when you’d curl into his chest, tracing patterns on his bare skin as his fingers ran up and down your back as he listened to you speak. 

mornings you would find him littering kisses all over your naked body, or you’d find him in between your legs, waking you up in his own unique (much appreciated) way. satoru was insatiable and you couldn’t find a bone in your body to deny him.

he smiled more, his eyes bright as he woke up to your cheek smushed into his pecs on other mornings, not wanting to wake you up as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and pulled you closer to his body. 

everybody around you two talked in hushed tones whenever you’d pass by, obvious confusion laced in their tones, but somewhat glad to see the tension between you and your husband had simmered down. 

��he seems happier,” suguru told you one day as you leaned over the balcony, watching satoru spar with one of his men, your arms crossed over the railing as you glanced over at the man. 

“really?” you felt a faint smile tug at your cheeks as you tried to contain yourself. 

he hummed, his back to the railing, his legs crossed. he was dressed in his clans’ colors, a black tunic embroidered with red stitching covering his chest. he had come around more often ever since the feast, and he seemed more open to talk to you. 

the winds were picking up, the seasons were changing. it had been weeks since your night with him, but it felt like a lifetime had passed since then. satoru spent less time training and fighting, making as much time for you as he possibly could. you had your chair moved so that you could sit next to him during dinners, and in his free time he’d take you around the land on your horse, his face relaxed and gleaming whenever you’d turn around to look at him.

“well,” he turned to look over his shoulder, looking down at satoru, his white hair turning into a blur as he rhythmically and methodically moved, evading the wooden swords’ jabs with the agility only a seasoned fighter could have, “not right now. i think he’s trying to show off.” you snorted, rolling at your eyes at his statement (which was most likely the truth) and continued to watch him spar. sometimes you forgot of satoru’s rank amongst the other men, and watching him in this sort of state reminded you just how much he must have picked up on those years spent apart. 

“i’m happy for you two,” he said after a beat of silence passed, offering you a genuine smile as he said it. he was usually more stoic than your husband, never giving too much information off from his face unless it was absolutely necessary, and catching him in these moments would always startle you. 

“thank you,” you murmured, heat blossoming across your cheeks and neck as you kept your stare focused on your husband, not wanting to come off as too giddy. truth be told, you’ve never felt happier. 

you couldn’t remember the last time you woke up with a smile and slept with one on your face. every day it seemed that satoru was trying to win your love in different ways. he was so different from what you had seen from him the last few months, but just like the old satoru you remembered. he was teasing, always finding ways to make you laugh. 

“he told you he was going to be gone for a bit, yeah?” suguru readjusted his hair, making it so that it didn’t keep flying into his face. you nodded, holding tightly onto your clothes in hopes of preserving more heat. 

“yes,” you blew some hot air into your hands as you rubbed them together, “he said you’d be going with him.” 

“he’ll be needing as much help as he can get where he’s going,” suguru murmured, but didn’t try to hide his words as he tapped his fingers on his wrist. 

“what does that mean?” you balanced your elbows on the stone railing beneath you, brows furrowed as he shrugged nonchalantly.  

“he didn’t tell you what it was for?” if satoru was one who wasn’t above gossip then suguru was one who stirred it up. 

“he said it was a meeting with one of the eastern clans,” you say, rubbing yourself. your nose was freezing. suguru nodded, which made you feel a little more at ease. 

“did he tell you why?” you shook your head, indifferent as you looked back at your husband. he was shaking hands with the poor kid who went against him, barely breaking a sweat as he threw his sword to the side, a wide smile on his face as he looked up at you. 

“business,” you murmur, not quite giving him your full attention anymore because satoru was walking near where you were standing, craning his neck to look up at you as he grinned. 

“is he bothering you?” he called out, his chest moving up and down with labored breaths. he tried to make it seem like sparring didn’t take anything out on him and you nodded, smiling back at him. 

“i’m about to throw him off!” you called down, leaning on the railing as you gripped it tightly to ensure your balance and satoru gleamed, suguru scoffing at the interaction. 

“did you see me fighting?” he asked, and you wanted to chuckle at his words, the hopeful smile on his face as he wiped at his nose, the cold getting to him as well. 

“you fought very valiantly!” and suguru thinks that without your words and your praise, satoru would be a mess, not able to function. he wasn’t sure how he did it months without it, because he doesn’t seem to live without it.

his cheeks flush a cute pink, and you want to bottle up the way his smile grows.

“you two make me sick.” he groaned, pushing himself off the railing as he made his way inside, throwing you a playful wink as he shut the doors. the sun was beginning to set and you could see the bits of night peaking through the sky. 

you watched as satoru disappeared through the stairs, likely coming up to see you and you drummed your fingers on your arm as thoughts traveled through your mind. 

despite his playful tone, suguru’s words left a bitter taste on your tongue. even as satoru found you, pulling you close to him as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips you couldn’t get it out of your mind. he led you back inside, talking nonstop about what his men needed to improve on, but your mind began going blank.

---

dinner that night was just as it always was, but you still couldn’t find it in yourself to push past what you’d been told earlier. 

“i’m thinking of having a winter feast during the solstice,” satoru said, drinking his wine as his fingers played with yours, running down the skin of your palm as he absentmindedly pressed his thumb to the back of your hand. 

“sounds good,” you said, not quite listening as you pushed some potatoes around your plate. you should have gotten past this awkwardness to talk to him about these things, but that must have just been wishful thinking. 

“this year seems to be colder than the last, so i’ll ask shoko to see if she can bring back some furs from her clan.” he continued, oblivious to your state of being. 

“okay,” you blankly said, giving him

a short glance only to see him in his own world, plotting. 

“i’ll have one of the southern tribes see if they can bring any pomegranates in, and…” he trailed off, noticing your stare boring into the table. his fingers squeezed yours, bringing your attention to him. 

“are you alright?” he asked, and you quickly nodded, plastering on a false smile as you picked up your spoon, wringing your hand out of his. 

“mhm!” you scooped some vegetables into your mouth, spending an excessive amount of time chewing as you felt his eyes bore into the side of your face. 

he didn’t seem convinced in the slightest, a brow raising at your strange behavior. if you were trying to be funny you had an odd way of showing it. 

“do you feel sick?” he moved closer, his hands finding your forehead, pressing against your cheeks as he felt for your temperature. 

you gently pushed his hand away, holding his wrist as your feet moved quickly in anxiousness. 

this should be easier than you made it out to be. 

he looked worried, finger itching to feel you again despite your silent pleas. it was second nature for him to care about you. if he didn’t spend half the time hopelessly in love with you, he spent the other half hoping that you were doing alright. he wanted only the best for you, and vehemently tried to make up for the months he didn’t do so. 

“no, i feel fine. but,” you sighed, rubbing at your eyes as he patiently waited for you to find your words. you knew he wouldn’t lie to you, he didn’t have the ability to, but the way suguru spoke to you made it seem like there was something he wasn’t telling you, “why are you leaving? i feel as though,” you swallowed thickly, “as though i don’t fully know why.”

satoru sat back in his chair, his eyes squinting as he looked at you. it’s not like he didn’t like being asked things, but normally you didn’t seem this apprehensive about talking to him. he welcomed your queries, answering them to the best of his abilities, but he couldn’t remember the last time you seemed this nervous to talk to him about something. 

and he knew that he should have told you this before you asked, but he put it off. his fingers ran through his hair as he breathed deeply through his hair. 

“it’s with one of the eastern clans,” he started, taking another sip of his wind as his hands found yours again, as if he couldn’t breathe without having you near in some way, “do you remember that girl, the one from the feast?” 

despite him not being very specific, there was only one memorable girl from that feast. the one that he disappeared with four half an hour before he came back. your jaw clenched, nodding stiffly as you moved in your seat. he noticed your shift in emotions, trying to hide his own as he continued.

“i told you what she had tried to do, hm?” satoru seemed a bit awkward in his wording, and if it were in any other case it probably would have made you laugh. but you can only nod again, his words nothing new. he had told you about it after he spent the night with you, answering your questions as to why he had left with her. 

you could barely remember her name, but you distinctly recalled what satoru had said about her. how she had tried to come onto him, how he had forced her off. you hadn’t seen her around since, but that didn’t mean that she hadn’t fully stopped making her way into your mind at random times during the day.

“ i had her clan cut off from trading with ours.”

if you were expecting any response it definitely wasn’t that. 

“…what?” you gave a startled laugh, blinking as you tried to make sense of what he had just said. 

he shrugged as if it didn’t mean much, as if that was the least that was expected of him. 

“that’s why our import of sweet potatoes and eggplants has been lower than usual. but it’s alright, i’ve already ordered for the seeds to be planted in our garden. her father is seething at the moment, it’s why i have to go see them.” he cut away at some meat, glancing at you as a smile was forcing its way onto his lips. he kept it down, watching for your reaction. 

you swallowed thickly, a feeling growing in your chest as you glanced up at him, only to find him staring back at you, a little smile on his face. 

“she had the nerve to ask to be a concubine. i’m only hoping that in this meeting we’re able to get some more of their silk imports in, it shouldn’t take too long.” 

you couldn’t find any words to respond with, but could feel a smile growing on your own face. you were the more compassionate one out of the two of you but hearing this felt like a whole different experience. 

“that’s,” you tried to hide your giddy feelings, “new.” 

satoru rolled his eyes, hooking his hands underneath your chair to pull you closer to him if it was even possible. 

“and well deserved,” he commented, kissing your cheeks as you laughed softly, his lips soft against your skin as they found their way into the places he knew you loved most. 

you tried to push him away, feeling embarrassed at the guards that stood by the door, knowing they were able to see all of this happen before them. 

“suguru was telling me about it,” you felt his hands shift, lifting you over the armrest, his strength godly as he shifted you to sit on his lap, “i just thought that something else had come up.”

gojo hummed against your skin, your dinner promptly forgotten behind you as his nose nudged at your jaw, “yeah, like what?” he enjoyed hearing your shuddering breaths, the way your fingers automatically went to tangle themselves in his soft hair. 

“i-i don’t know,” you felt weak from being breathless from so little, and we’re glad your back was to the men behind you, “but definitely not that.” 

“it was the least i could do,” he said, “i wanted her banished but my advisors warned against it. said it would cause too much chaos,” his eyes flicked to yours, inviting, challenging, “as if i wouldn’t go to war for you.” 

you felt the air in your lungs squeeze out, your hands gripping his shoulders, anything to bring you back to reality as his tongue poked at his cheek, debating some things in his head.

“out,” he spoke, loudly now so that the guards could hear, his voice commanding and starkly different from how he talked to you, “get out.” 

while he liked showing you off, but there were things only meant for his eyes and his ears.

you could hear them shuffling to leave, looking over your shoulder as you giggled at their hurried movements, the door shutting behind them as they left you and satoru alone in the dining hall. 

you turned back to him, his eyes twinkling in the faint candlelight, his hands running across your back, up and down your arms as you shifted across his lap, your clog rubbing on his hard-on as he sucked in a deep breath. 

 “you’d go to war for me?” you teased, your sweet breath fanning across his lips as his tongue poked out, his eyes glazing over as he scoffed at your ridiculous question. his hands settled on your waist, your skirts hitching upwards. 

“i’d do anything for you,” he whispered against your lips, hovering above them as his eyes held yours, “if you told me you wanted me to ransack that clan dry i’d do it.” though he was a joking sort of person, you knew his words were nothing but the truth. 

if you wanted, he’d burn down villages for you. he’d make sure that when the stories were written, your name came first. he wanted the masses to know that he was yours and that his every waking moment was spent in your presence. 

satoru was sure the stars were shifting to accommodate for the two of you, and that it would only take years before he’d look up to see you there with him, splattered across the night sky.

“as much as i’d like you to,” you kissed his neck, enjoying the way he writhed beneath you, knowing that only you had the luxury of seeing him like this, “i wouldn’t want any spillage of blood to be traced back to me. i’d like for you to come home alive.” it’s not as if you doubted his talents, nor his strength, you doubted others. 

“i’ll always find my way back to you,” he promised, tilting his head to catch your lips in a searing kiss. 

it was slow, as if he wanted to savor every moment with you. satoru was cheeky, smiling whenever he’d pull slightly away to hear your sweet whines. your fingers tugged at his hair, warning him to stop. 

his tongue pushed its way into your mouth, and it didn’t take long before the kisses turned sloppy, spit staining your chin as you slowly move your body up and down on his. 

“you drive me to shambles,” he said against your lips, a train of spit connecting the two of you together, and it was sinful the way he looked right now. lips rosy and plump, his hair messy and his smile cocky. 

“me?” you ask slyly, coyly moving up and down his dick, enjoying the way he sucked in a breath through his teeth, his fingers digging into your ass as you tilt your head to the side, “really?” 

his hands hiked up your skirt so that it bushed around your thighs, his fingers pressing against your heat as he felt the dampness seeping through your underwear, his own victorious grin plastered on his face. 

“really,” he confirmed, grabbing a hold of your wrist as he guided it to his bulge, watching your eyes gloss over, your pupils widening at the feeling of him, never really getting used to just how big satoru was. 

his finger hicked your underwear to the side, letting it sink into your warm walls, your eyes rolling back, your slick staining his skin as he brought it out, tapping your lips as he motioned for you to open your mouth. 

you did, watching as he pushed his finger in, his eyes darkening at the way you closed your lips around him, sucking him hard as you tasted yourself on him, your hips shifting to ease your aching clit. 

“taste yourself? see why i can’t get enough of you?” he prompts and you slowly nod, not breaking eye contact with him as he feels pride swell in his chest, as well as something else a little bit lower. 

“see how i can’t get enough of you?” you ask, motioning towards his hand, and he chuckles darkly, drawing his finger out as he presses a short kiss to your lips, taunting you.

“be patient,” he murmured, fully enthralled with the way your tongue moved around him, his dick straining against his pants, painful as it wanted to be let free. you could feel him twitch beneath you, growing harder, if it was even possible. 

he couldn’t even be patient himself.

“then hurry up,” you whisper, biting his ear as he groans, pushing all of the silverware and cups out from behind you, lifting you up by your thighs as he made room for you on the table, setting you down as he settled in between your legs. 

he pushed down on your chest and you followed his movements, laying down on the table, your chest heaving up and down, the feeling something you’ve never experienced before. sex with satoru was unlike anything human, and he always left you with a taste of wanting more. 

your top fell loosely against your shoulder, almost undone from all of his ministrations, and some of the wine from his cup had spilled, soaking your white fabric red. it was hard to come out of this dining hall without hiding what had happened inside. 

his hand fisted the top that covered your chest, yanking it off with a swift motion, tearing it off of you in a split second. you didn’t have time to scold him for ruining yet another one of your shirts, taking in the way his breath came out in little puffs at the sight of your naked breasts. 

“‘toru!” you yelled, swatting his hands away as you groaned, looking at what was now rags, not knowing how you were going to be able to leave this dining hall with your dignity intact. 

“what?” he looked as if he truly had no idea why you’d be mad, and then looked at the remains of your top, sheepishly scratching at his jaw as he leaned down to peck at the corner of your lips, and you begrudgingly let him. 

“‘m sorry,” he whispered against your lips, but he didn’t really sound like it, “i’ll cover you in my robes, yeah?” you rolled your eyes, flicking at his forehead. he whined, back caught your hand, kissing just above your wrist as he winked at you. you could never stay mad at him for too long because he knew just what to do to make you forget about it.

“you owe me a new one, alongside the four other ones you’ve ruined so far,” you say, eyeing it with a hefty sigh. satoru nodded insistently, his hands wandering down your torso as he got himself distracted. his hands were so large, and you would never get tired of the way he looked at you.

“how ‘bout i make it up to you, hm?” and you didn’t have any restraint in you as you nodded slowly, knowing that you were the only person who could make him like this, the only person who could have the gojo satoru in such a vulnerable and loving way.

he began bunching up your skirt once again, sinking down to his knees as your back arched off of the table, using your elbow to stabilize yourself as your head tilted backward at the feeling of his fingers pushing past your walls. 

your underwear was thrown to the side, disregarded as his tongue poked at your entrance, his thumb flicking over your sensitive nub, knowing just the way to make you go crazy. he slurped up all you had to offer, the sounds too much for you to handle, cheek heating up. 

he took his time, wanting to make you feel every pleasurable feeling known to man as he ate you out. you would never get tired of the way he could reach that spongy spot inside of you that your fingers never could. 

“you taste like so fucking sweet,” satoru’s eyes found yours, glinting as his nose nudged at your clit. it was too much, the way he ate you like he had never tasted anything better. he hadn’t and he was sure that sin was below you. 

his other hand found your tits, palming them, squeezing at the flesh as he rubbed at your nipples, hardening against him as you whined, fisting the tablecloth beneath you as you panted, it was just so hard to get used to this. 

“f-fuck, ‘toru, please…” you could barely muster up any words, his thumb swiping at your clit in a delicious way, his tongue prodding at your walls. 

“please what?” he teased, enjoying the way he could make you unravel, the way that nobody else could hear the way you’d sing just for him. 

“faster, mhh, shit!” you liked the way he obediently listened to you, his tongue and fingers moving per your request, and you felt your stomach clenching, your release threatening to come at any moment.

it was embarrassing just how fast he could bring you to this sort of state, but he reveled in it. he knew what you liked and disliked, how to tease you to make you cry even louder for him. he was a master in everything he did, and he wasn’t one to fail. 

“who does this to you?” he asked, knowing he was fucking you dumb even without his cock. 

“y-you, you ‘toru,” you couldn’t look at him, everything hot as sweat dotted at your forehead, “only you.” 

a cheshire grin found its way onto his face. 

“come on, know you can do it,” he pushed you further, his fingers joining his tongue, and it was just too much, prodding at the place that made you see stars. he looked just as wrecked as you, with your own essence smeared all over his chin, mixing with his spit, but he couldn’t have had it any other way. 

“‘m ‘gonna…fuck, ‘toru, i’m ‘gonna come…” you breathed out, and it didn’t take long till you did. 

the feeling was unlike any other, your walls clamping around him, your release gushing out, your stomach clenched, and your back arched, spasming around his fingers. he didn’t stop until he was sure you had ridden out your orgasm, watching the beautiful way your tits moved up and down with your every breath, the way the light bounced off your skin. you were a heavenly being and nothing you told him could convince him otherwise. 

he slowly stood up, his hands finding purchase on your hips as he gently pulled you closer to the edge of the table, giving you some time to come back down to earth as he slowly tapped his fingers on the expanse of your naked skin.

“you good?” you groaned, hitting his chest lightly as he chuckled, his eyes softening as he looked more at you. he was so sure that the love he held in his chest was going to seep out that it made him worried, knowing that others could love you the same way, selfishly wanting you just to himself.

“you’re so annoying,” you say, rubbing at your face, eyeing the bulge in his pants, feeling your mouth salivate at the sight. 

“you love it though,” and you couldn’t even argue because you did. you loved all the little things about him, the things he hid away from the public eye and saved just for you. it reminded you that he was yours and you were his and nothing was ever going to change it. 

“i put up with it,” you say, watching him pout, his white hair all messy and his cheeks rosy. 

“you’re so mean,” he whined, but only kissed the tip of your nose as he said it. his swift fingers made use of unbuttoning the buttons of his pants, hooking a finger around them as he tugged it down, his cock springing free as it hit his chest. 

he was long, curving to the right. his dick was pretty, just like the rest of him, and you would never get tired of seeing it flushed red, leaking pre as he shuddered against the cold, biting air. his mushroomed tip was aching to push past your walls, and you obliged him, slowly moving so that your hands found him. 

he sucked in a breath as your fingers wrapped around his length, expertly moving up and down in a teasing manner, your thumb swiping at his head as his pre stained your skin. his chest was moving in a crazed pattern, as if his lungs weren’t working properly, and he watched as your hands moved up and down, up and down. 

“s-stop, i don’t want to,” he scrambled before he embarrassed himself and finished from just your hands, tugging your fingers away from his aching cock as you looked up at him through your lashes, knowing just what made him go crazy for you. 

“hurry up ‘toru, i need you sooo bad,” you whined, your voice laced with something that made him lose all sense of control, and he quickly nodded, his hands gripping your thighs as he tugged you closer to himself. 

it would have been easier if he had you perched on the table with your back to him, but he couldn’t risk not being able to see your face, the way your mouth opened and your eyes squeezed shut, so he lined himself up with your entrance instead, knowing this was the only way he could fuck you. 

his dick prodded at your entrance, his bulbous head pushing past your walls that were still tight, squeezing him as he slowly inched your forehead, the two of you moaning in unison at the snug fit. 

“shit, you’re so tight, how,” his lip caught between his teeth, and his eyes flickered over to yours, “how are you so tight?” his grip on your hips was bruising, but you welcomed the marks, loving the fact that when you woke up the two of you would carry each other on your skin.

“stop talking ‘toru,” your hands hooked around his neck, tugging him in closer as your lips slotted against his, your teeth clashing as your pussy fluttered against him, your noses rubbing against each other, “fuck me…please.” 

and he did, pushing all of himself in, and your head tipped backward at the sting, gripping onto his arms as he let you adjust to his size, his cock twitching in your heat, and his jaw clenched, refraining himself from moving just yet. 

when you gave him the nod to move he slowly inched out, his dick shining in the light, before he slammed himself back in, your cries filling the vast space as he began to fuck you the way he wanted, his lips finding your neck as you thrust your hips against his. 

it was always delirious when the two of you fucked, your bodies meeting at one point that drove each of you to your own euphoria. satoru tried to be slow and gentle, but after a bit, he couldn’t anymore, picking up his pace as his head kept hitting your g spot. 

“love you s’much ‘toru,” your fingers curled in his hair, your other hand scratching lines down his back as the squelching sound resonated around you, “f-fuck-” he cut you off with a chaste kiss, dropping his head to your breasts as he sucked at them, positioning himself in and out of you with all his strength. 

“i know, i know sweetheart,” he murmured against your spit soaked skin, rubbing gently at the marks he left, “i’m yours, all for you,” he promised, his thumb finding your clit as he swiped at it, enjoying the way you mewled for him to go faster. 

your eyes fall all over his naked skin, at the way sweat dots on both of your bodies, and the way satoru can’t contain his moans and whines when he sinks in and out of you. the sounds he makes are for you only, and you want to damn anybody who longs to hear them too. 

“you feel s’good,” you kiss at his chest, his tunic slipping down him as the buttons and knots become undone, your fingers tugging them down so you could have more area to kiss and suckle at, “s’big ‘toru.” 

he loves how your voice gets breathy, the way you can’t keep your hands to yourself and can barely formulate a thought. he fucks you like he hates you, but that’s only because he doesn’t know how else to show you just how much you mean to him. 

“yeah? this dick makes you dumb?” you nod helplessly, feeling like you were going to go insane with the way his veins dragged alongside your walls, at the way your pussy was molding to the shape of him. 

“yes!” you cried out, nails digging into his skin, and he encouraged you to leave more lines, knowing that once he had to take off his shirt for training and the men around his eyes the scratches on his back they’d know who left them. 

“are you ‘gonna come? come with me, know you want to,” his hips are shuttering as if he can barely keep his release at bay, “know you can sweetheart,” and you whine even louder, his thumb relentlessly attacking your clit as your legs wrap tightly around him, keep him from straying too far away from your body. 

“mhh fuck, ‘toru m’gonna, fuck…!” you felt your release come before you could even stop yourself, spasming around his dick as you wailed, creaming around his dick as the tablecloth bunched beneath you, the wine spilling everywhere as your husband came just seconds after you. 

you felt his hot release in you, your walls hugging him in as your eyes rolled back, white dotting your vision as he pumped himself inside of you, keeping his dick in for a little while longer. your orgasm was so powerful that you wondered if you were going to be able to walk after this, feel yourself pulse around nothing as satoru slowly pulled himself out of you, his cum seeping out and sticking to your doughy thighs. 

it was a mess; wine and cum everywhere, but your laughter slowly filled the heated room, laughing at the entire prospect of this. 

“what?” he nudged at your jaw, kissing your cheekbones as he smiled at the sound, “was that not to your liking?” 

you snorted, shaking your head as your legs dropped from his waist, leaning back on your hands as you looked around, taking in the mess as you heaved out a sigh, knowing that there definitely wasn’t any way to hide what you had done now. especially since you were sure that anybody within a twenty-foot radius could have heard you as well. 

“it was fine,” you teased, watching him huff in annoyance because the two of you knew that it was far from fine. 

“just fine?” he asked, scooping a finger into your pussy, watching the way your head fell onto his shoulder, smearing his cum around just for extra measure, chuckling to himself when he felt you lightly bite his skin. 

“you’re painfully full of yourself,” you comment, your skirt falling back down as it hid your fluttering pussy, making it seem as if he hadn’t just fucked you dumb seconds ago, and satoru tugged you closer to his chest, his hands sprawling across the naked expanse of your back. 

“only because i love you so much,” and he wasn’t lying, but you knew that his cockiness stemmed from himself. 

the two of you smiled, your rings shining and you looked out the window to see the moon up, a chill running through the curtains, ruffling them as it hit your skin and you shuddered. 

as if he suddenly remembered your top was ruined, now resembling cleaning rags, he shrugged off the robe that was resting on the back of his chair as he settled it across your chest, buttoning up the buttons for you as you let him work. 

it had some of his military rankings on it, a deep blue that resembled the clan's colors, and you instantly felt warmer in the wool. 

“‘toru?” you twirled some of his baby hairs around your fingers, your voice hoarse but soft. 

he looked up, feeling awestruck by the way you looked right now. he loved the glow you radiated after a round of him pounding into you, the way your skin was shining and you had a content look on your face, resonating deep within him.

“hm?” his thumb ran across your face, tracing your features as he did every night, committing them to memory. 

“come home safe,” you whispered, lashes fluttering against your cheeks as you held his unoccupied hand in yours, your fingers cradling his larger ones, “don’t do anything stupid, please.” 

he went to make a joke but stopped himself when he saw your serious stare, his mouth opening and then shutting until he nodded, smiling carefully, holding heavy emotions as he gave you a smaller, more understanding nod.

“okay,” he murmured, but you shook your head, not satisfied with his answer. 

“promise me,” and he hated and loved the fact that he couldn’t deny you anything. 

“i promise,” he whispered against your lips, bringing you closer as his tongue swiped against yours, your lips swollen and plush, just the way he liked it. 

and he held true to his promise, returning only a week later with a promise of no sort of war between the eastern clan. but according to suguru, your husband had shed off his clothes when he had to fight one of their men, everybody around him, including the girl, had seen the scratches and bruises you had left for him, 

just as he intended.

taglist: @chieeeeeee, @yxnjvnnie, @ladytamayolover, @iheartlinds

[creatingblackcharacters]

“The Ambiguously Brown Character™”- The Attachment to Eurocentric Beauty Standards

“maybe im petty but i wish people knew how to draw like different nose shapes. Sometimes I’ll see a character I like but im like that is not what their nose would look like.” @the-eldritch-it-gay

You’ve seen them before. The one character that has brown skin… And everything else about them is… an enigma. They’re not supposed to be white! You know that much… right? You can see what the designated white characters look like, so at least it’s not that. You could claim them as Black, if you want, and sometimes creators even demand that this character is Black. Depending on the quality, you’re either like “no, what the fuck is this” or you’re like “okay they’re cool, we’ll take them”. Representation is important. But… There’s a pit in your stomach that wonders… Are they really? Are they really supposed to be Black, is this really representation, or did the creators just toss a brown person in so all the Brown™ people could “have something”, so that they would look like they cared about “diversity” on their art resume?

Examples

Theseus, in my opinion, looks like a white man with a tan. Dionysus looks a little better with the similar skin tone, due to his purple hair coloration. Apparently people do think that at least Dionysus is a man of color. What’s interesting about both of these characters, is that they’re only about two desaturated browns lighter than Patroclus, a character in the game that we’re supposed to believe is Black (whom, in my opinion, also looks like a brown bucket tool character. I’m still claiming him, he’s my guy. But his design should have been more explicitly Black). Theseus and Patroclus are the two darkest-skinned dead humans in the first game. So… what was I supposed to think about these two? Was I supposed to think they are really dark white people, due to the thin textures of their hair? Are they men of color? Are Theseus and Patroclus supposed to be ashy because they’re dead, is Dionysus ashy because he’s dehydrated from wine? Why don’t the white dead people look off color? Hades was entirely too striking a game in use of color for the browns to look like… this.

Noe and Hibana are interesting. It was complete coincidence, the purple hair and eyes thing btw. Hibana is interesting because Ogun is an unambiguously Black character in Fire Force, and there are at least three other unambiguously Black characters in Soul Eater as well. So we know the mangaka knows how to draw Black people in their style! So… was this on purpose? Is this another of those ‘tanned anime girls with titties’ meant for shounen fan service? I’ve claimed Noe (Case Study of Vanitas) because Black French people exist and France has stolen so much from us already, but it is never actually specified what Noe is. He’s just the One Singular Brown Guy in this show, with regular, untextured anime hair. Are there more brown people in the manga? Is this explained? Because we know who is supposed to be white! If anyone else wants to claim Noe, they absolutely can, because we have no idea what he’s supposed to be. Hot Chocolate thinks he’s Indian, and I’m not going to argue that because… who knows! He very well could be!

My very first lesson addressed this, albeit lightly! There’s a reason that I said that if you gained nothing else from me, that’s what I want you to walk away with. Now that I’m on stronger footing with this blog, I can really get into the nitty gritty of what that really means.

Obligatory disclaimer: we are not a monolith!* As of 2015, it has been researched that African populations have the highest genetic variation on Earth*, with a lot of that genetic diversity in sub-Saharan Africa alone. This means that YES, there very well can and will be Black people with naturally thinner textures of hair, blonde, light brown, and red hair, straight, narrow noses, monotone lips, and lighter skin that comes more often with white people. There are enough genetic combinations within African peoples and of the African diaspora that I’m sure there are plenty of people that look the way people seem to want Black people in art to look, if those genes so express within them.

*as a scientist, I will say: while these papers seem fairly legit and I looked at many related articles and their sources, take Nature with a grain of salt. Though their vetting process has become much better, you can and should always do further reading on your own!

Here’s the thing: the possibility is not the issue here!

The first issue: I don’t have to teach anyone how to draw those features on Black people! It is evident, from the professional and fan art I’ve seen, y’all already know how to draw the features deemed highly by Eurocentric beauty standards. Those features are excessively focused on and promoted as part of “good art”.

The second issue here is that the average artist drawing a poorly done Black person is not considering things like genetic diversity when they draw them (and if they are, it’s usually as an excuse post-confrontation. Yes, I have seen it.) These creators are not designing these characters with the intent of them being Black with those features, they are designing “Black” people with features that they deem most aesthetic and are most comfortable with drawing.

And why do they deem those features most aesthetic? We’ve circled back to the point of this lesson!

Eurocentric Beauty Standards

Definition: beauty standards as defined through a white, western cultural lens, including but not limited to: straight, blonde hair, light eyes, pale skin, high cheekbones, narrow noses, thinness. It’s a way that white western people want other white western people to look to be considered classically attractive… and then enforced that on everyone else.

It affects people of color worldwide. Anyone that has ever had to deal with European colonization or imperialism has to deal with the interjection of Eurocentric beauty standards.

Examples

-Black women, standing at the intersection of Blackness and womanhood, especially deal with the constant pressure of Eurocentric beauty standards, being consistently told to hate ourselves due to our own ethnic features. It’s incredibly damaging to your self-esteem growing up; my mom told me that until I went natural at 17, I was determined to look ‘like a white girl’ because I thought it would make me beautiful, and it hurt her. And as for me, it was a stunning realization that at 17 that I had never really seen my own natural curl pattern before. My hair was in ponytails and such as a child, but as a teenager, growing into my identity, I had always wanted straight hair. I was in love with my coily texture, I couldn’t believe that I’d never seen it. An entire part of my own body, gone unknown, because I wanted to fit a beauty standard I would never reach.

-Kenneth and Mamie Clark: The “Doll” Studies: Black children- age 3-7 were shown white and Black doll babies, and were asked a series of ‘positive’ and ‘negative’ identification questions. Even by that young an age, most of the Black children associated things like beauty, kindness, and positivity… with the white dolls.

-“The Golden Ratio”: a survey was done in Britain (oh boy, here we go) to determine what people felt was the ‘most beautiful’ face, and apparently it all came down to “symmetry”. “International blueprints of beauty” they claimed, were applied, as humans “naturally seek symmetry”. In 2015, according to ye olde Daily Mail, this was the most beautiful woman. You'll never guess:

(It’s not even her natural hair color!)

-Another “research study” using E-FIT (Electronic Facial Identification Technique -- a facial recognition software used to create criminal profiles based on eyewitness descriptions; no WAY that THAT could get problematic!!) to determine what 100 people thought was the “most archetypal face of beauty”.

They came up with a figure similar to Kendall Jenner as the female option.

(Guys, we’re never getting out of here at this rate.)

-We’ve spoken about discrimination against Black hair before, and how natural hairstyles will be deemed less professional or appropriate for school, regardless of the brilliant mind that sits underneath it, and even the history of Black women having to cover their hair so as to “not steal the desire of white men” and ruin the status of white women.

Appropriation:

I try to have nuance on the Kardashians, but I have never liked Kylie, and it’s not because she’s not allowed to do what she wants with her body. I watched the world claim that she was so beautiful, that her kits were why her lips looked “so good”. Everyone wanted to have “full, plump lips” like the ones Kylie BOUGHT. But Black women’s full lips have been treated horrifically since racism was invented. In 2016 I watched racists dogpile and mock Ugandan model Aamito Lagum for her naturally full lips in her MAC campaign, after saying in just 2015 that Kylie’s lips were “top fashion and everyone wants them”. And she lied (not that we didn’t all know that)! She appropriated a look, and she lied about it to move product. And people who had no right to forgive her did so, and everyone moved on to make her a billionaire. Because full lips looked good… as long as they weren’t on a Black woman. I can’t even have my own lips, but she was rewarded with an industry for appropriation. No, I’m not getting over that.

I could go on, but I won’t. So what are some ways to address the existence of Eurocentric beauty standards potentially biasing our creation?

First thing: LET’S TRASH THE IDEA THAT BROWN SKIN AUTOMATICALLY MEANS BLACK.

Black people are not stupid, and we do have expectations. Splashing brown paint on your otherwise white character does not mean I’ll automatically think they’re Black. I’m going to look. When I see brown people in real life, I can usually tell when they don’t look like me. I don’t look at a South Asian similar to or darker than my shade and say “they’re Black”. Blackness is not just skin color, it’s an entire identity and sociological construct. Yes, you can tell us apart.

Acknowledge when you’re holding a bias:

For example: “Tall, dark, and handsome.” What did you picture? You must understand that different people had different ideas of what this meant, versus who it was actually meant to be. Because on its surface, that description includes tall Black men with dark brown eyes and dark hair! We’ve talked about this in lesson 3! Whoever came up with this phrase didn’t mean skin though, they meant hair and eyes- they meant white brunettes. Even in this, it was only meant to include whiteness. And we were all supposed to assume that, be damned anything else.

Part of that is knowing what things do and don’t fall under the category. They were listed off earlier: straight and wavy hair, blonde hair, colorful eyes, thin noses, high cheekbones, double eyelid with round eyes that “show youth and innocence”. People have been going the “aquiline nose” route lately to claim more diversity in nose shape but like… even that isn’t always going to be the case. Every Black person is not going to have an aquiline nose. It is not the “middle ground” of diversity. Draw us with some round noses. We look fine.

Often ignored (in depictions of Black people): afro/coily hair and natural styles, large, round noses, full faces, brown eyes, full figures that aren’t oversexualized, body fat. One of the characters from Craig of the Creek that makes me so happy is Nicole, Craig’s mother. When I look at her design, I see my own mother. I see a Black woman that… actually looks like Black mothers I know. It made me happy and comfortable.

White folk, you even do it to yourselves! I mentioned to a friend once that a good chunk of stories in our fandom with the blonde/brunette white character dynamic read like an Aryan fantasy: the blonde character will be treated like a god on high, the most beautiful of humanity, and then you’ll get to the brunette and it’s “my meek, mousy brown hair, my dull, brown eyes like dirt, and my tanned skin with freckles; no one would ever notice someone plain, nerdy, and unimportant like me until him” lmao like excuse me? Author, you okay there pal? Do you need a hug, lmao? I can’t take it seriously anymore. If y'all are being this mean to each OTHER about not hitting Eurocentric beauty standards, y'all are certainly not being nice or respectful about people of color- who never can- in your content! (and no, exoticizing Blackness is not respectful.) You should look out for how often this happens, and catch yourself when you’re doing it.

Creating with Intent (and the lack thereof!)

(This is so important I made the header larger)

You have to actually consider and reference REAL Black people when you’re drawing Black people. That seems like such an obvious thing, and yet it must not be, because these sorts of arts/the techniques used in them still happen.

For example:

credit to my friend @devilatelier; I asked for the worst Black art ever and he heeded the call!

I abhor art like this, and art that does varying versions of this. To the pit of my soul, hatred. I will not share your work if I catch even a whiff of it. Why? Because people know that this isn’t what we look like! If you get on the computer and type in “Black man with short hair”, option A is not even remotely on the first page. You’ll get nonblack men that show up, thanks to Google’s algorithm (another conversation), but the Black men don’t look like A. If you get on the computer and type “Black man with long hair”, you’ll even get Black men with all textures and styles of hair, including straight! And they still don’t look like B. Go ahead, I’ll pause- go type it in and see what you get. Have you ever seen a Black person that looks like these images? Be honest with yourself. Why do you let them slide, if you haven’t?

Why This Matters

So it’s not about the actual Black people in their lives that they’ve seen, that makes artists draw characters like this, nor a dedication to accuracy. Because if you were looking at us at all, you wouldn’t draw this. And yet, people draw it, and post it proudly. So there must not be any shame behind it, or they at least are comfortable enough with their target audience to think it’s presentable! That begs the question- who is your target audience, and do you include Black people in it?

It’s how people like Jen Zee can have a successful career at Supergiant despite drawing dark skinned people the way she does. It’s because studios recognize when their target audiences are not perturbed by, and therefore will still buy, their product. If poorly drawn Black people does not perturb audiences enough to affect the almighty dollar- or, in fanart situations, the value of popularity- then there’s no motivation to stop doing it! Who cares about the value and the demeaning of Black fans, right?

Think about it like this. You remember how everyone bullied the Sonic studio and they scrapped their entire reel? People do not get that much up in arms in solidarity about the antiblack treatment and depiction of Black characters. It’s how you end up with Wyll Ravengard on the drop of BG3. Because Larian could have stood on business, had some integrity, and said “this is a character we are going to develop, because there will be fans that look like Wyll, and deserve to receive our best efforts at inclusion.”

But instead, Larian said “this is what our majority fanbase wants, and apparently it is not a well-developed Black character” and released that game as it was. To rousing success. That was a choice. The antiblackness of both the fans and the studio, via their lack of concern about Black gamers, was involved in making that decision. We have to let go of the idea that antiblack racism is incidental, and not a part of the process- and that includes in character design.

I cannot tell you how much it shrivels my heart inside when I see a “Black” character with wavy hair. One, because I know the artist’s first thought was not to have a Black character with wavy hair, but because they draw white people with that hair and thought it was transferrable. Two, because if you wanted the aesthetic of hair down to the back… Locs could have worked! The same shape would be there! You can style locs in any way, and it would be fine! Even if you wanted them to have thinner hair, fine, but… I can see where the intent (and the lack thereof) is. We can see when you aren’t even trying for us!

I asked Angel how he felt about creating the “white man with the brown bucket” images, curious about how he felt given that he is more than capable of drawing Black people. His response was noteworthy, and consistent with my hypothesis:

“Thinking about it, these two drawings have been the most difficult thing I’ve had to draw, period. And it’s the first time I’ve actually felt nauseous during the drawing process from start to finish. I constantly felt like I was fighting off the part of myself that knew better, telling me that this is wrong. It felt like a betrayal, knowing what Black people actually look like and still choosing to be disrespectful. Especially because I worked on the first two and immersed myself in references and also Black youtubers, researching Black hairstyles. It felt like a betrayal to all of that to call these two (deliberately poorly drawn) characters Black, because they’re not. None of the Black people I found during my research (both photo references and videos) looked like these. at all. It felt cheap, it felt lazy. Creatively lazy in the way that you just take a white person and paint-bucket them brown and call it a day. In the way it makes you feel no pull to change what you do, or learn something new. Kinda like a thought terminating cliche. Unlike the first two, I used no references for them, but I mostly based them off of actual designs I’ve seen in fandoms, both fanmade and not.”

Conclusion

So what I want us to consider for now is: if we know that’s not what Black people look like, but so many people are willing to do and/or accept it without any mental dissonance… how much do they care? Why is this allowed to ‘pass’, if we recognize that it is not accurate, unless we think what we are being presented with is acceptable? Or at least, not worth fighting over? Why not? Why do you not think that this Black character deserves to be unambiguously Black? And why does that ‘better’ way to exist always come back to whiteness?

We’re going to get into this, as well as more into the other, more overt and equally harmful manifestation of these beliefs in the next lesson on Whitewashing! But I want you to simmer on this part, first.

When you draw a character that you want to be Black, not only should you keep in mind your intent of how you’re going to draw them, but it also means putting in the work to make sure you’re doing so. You do not put pen to paper and “accidentally” draw a white man lol, it came from somewhere- let’s shatter that connection that views white features as superior, as 'ideal for attention grabbing', so we can create better. Because remember, it is the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

[myspacebrat]

.𖥔 ‧ ₊ 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐭.

stepbrother steve x best friend eddie x fem reader

summary: your plan to seduce your asshole of a step brother doesn’t go quite as planned when his best friend eddie overhears your pretty noises through steve’s gaming headset, and as obsessed with you as he is; he wants in on you, too.

warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, no description of readers race, eye/hair color or texture, mean dom steve, sub eddie, sub reader, mm action, stepcest, oral (m + f receiving), p in v sex, eddies pierced, heavy on the pet names (literally), cum swapping, dirty talk, allusions to anal sex.

word count: 3.6k

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Your step brother's grating voice hits your ears causing your eyes to roll as you bounce down the last couple steps of your overly grand staircase. You purposely ignore him as you walk through the living room where he sits slouched on your parents' new brown leather couch, a gaming controller in his hands and a big headset perched over his ears, weighing down his precious hair. 

“Hm? Oh, nothing dude, just talking to my slutty sister.” The way he enunciates ‘slutty sister’ causes a giggle to slip past your lips, you were too in tune with his attempts to get under your skin and rile you up.  

You make your way into the kitchen paying him no mind, it’s all part of the plan. 

One of his friends must’ve said something about you on the other side of his headset because a loud guffaw floats in from the living room, as you grab a juice out of the fridge. 

Your guess was his best friend Eddie, who always flirts with you behind Steve’s back but is an asshole when they’re together. You caught him looking up your skirt last week as you ran up your stairs to your bedroom, and he didn’t even try to look away or act embarrassed that you had caught him. Nope, instead he smiled up at you with a face splitting grin and sent you a wink; well needless to say you touched yourself that night thinking of the metalhead and his ringed fingers, his black nail polish, that tongue ring and all those chains he wears. You also heard rumors from friends that his dick is huge and pierced which added so much more to your little fantasy. 

“I asked you a question.” Steve barks as you walk past him again, about to make your way back upstairs, but this time you stop and acknowledge him; you’ll chalk it up to boredom. 

“I’m sorry, what was your question?” You respond, so sugary sweet if you don’t stop now you’ll give yourself cavities.

“I said, what are you wearing?” His jaw clenches when you make your way over towards him, both sets of knees practically touching as you stand in front of his lazy, stretched out form. Now that your pierced nipples are completely visible to him through your see through skin tight dress, his game and Eddie are a complete afterthought. 

“A dress. What, you don't like it?” You playfully snark before gazing down at him with a faux pout, as if you cared. 

“I can see your tits.” Is all he says as his eyes roam over the expanse of your body, this time you can clearly hear Eddie’s voice through the headset but can’t make out what he’s saying. Steve shoots a very serious “shut the fuck up” back, and that reaction only comes out when his friends flirt or make pervy jokes about you. 

“Okay, and?” You bite back, crossing your arms underneath your chest, in an attempt to hike them up even higher. 

“Where the fuck are you going in a see through dress? And when did you get your nipples pierced?” Once the last words leave Steve’s lips, you can hear Eddie on the other end begging him to send a picture. You can’t help but to laugh at him along with Steve’s reaction as he scrunches his face up before hissing back a “dude, I’m gonna fucking mute you.” 

“I’m going to a college party if you must know, and none of your business.” Your tone isn’t harsh, it’s way too flirty and playful. You don’t want to give him the reaction he’s begging for.  

Steve sits up, practically bumping his body into yours, “you're not going anywhere dressed like that.” He spits through his teeth. 

“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my dad.” Now you’re serious, because fuck no is anyone going to tell you what you can and can’t wear. 

“Do you see your dad anywhere?” Steve asks as his eyes move around the interior of the house, you know it’s a rhetorical question because your dad and his mom are away on their honeymoon. 

“Exactly, he left me in charge and I said you’re not leaving this house.” He takes a step closer towards you, your bodies now an inch apart and you can feel his warm breath on your face. 

“Steve, I’m older than you by like three months, you can’t tell me what to do. I’m an adult.” You stand your ground as his body towers over you, looking at you with his downturned, judgmental little hazel eyes. Ugh you wanna punch that smirk off his face.

“I said. You’re. Not. Going. Don’t make me repeat myself again.” His words should piss you off even more, they should make you scream and curse but instead they make your thighs clench and your breathing stutter; they also cause your eyes to swell up with unwanted tears. 

“Aw, you gonna cry? You look so pretty when you cry, baby.” His words almost knock the wind out of you because he’s never once called you pretty or baby and it goes straight to your cunt, as wetness begins to seep into your white lace panties. 

He brings his right thumb up to swipe under your eye, causing the unshed tears to finally fall and once the wetness pools on his skin, he brings it up to his mouth and sucks it right off; which confuses you on why you find that weird action so fucking hot. Then, he brings his thumb back towards your face, gently rubbing it over your bottom lip, without hesitation you take it into your mouth twirling your tongue around it before sucking. Steve groans at the action making Eddie pipe up again. 

“Fuck, did you just moan? What is she doing man? You gotta tell me.” He sounds desperate for any crumb of detail.

“You wanna be a little slut? Hm? Get on your knees.” Is all he says, ignoring his best friend's pleas. 

And just as you planned, he fell right into the palm of your cunning little hand. 

And you fall to your knees without so much as a second thought. You’ve wanted him for five long, grueling months and even before that, when he was king Steve of Hawkins high. 

You yank down his maroon sweats and white Calvin Klein briefs, your eyes half lidded and filled with lust as his huge cock pops free and bobs up and down right before your face, he’s already hard as a rock and his tip is a pinkish red. He tucks the material beneath his large, trimmed balls and begins to shake his cock in his hand. 

“C’mon, open up nice and wide, little slut.” He bites his lip to cover the cocky smile that had begun to take over his face, but you're so lost on cloud nine that you open up on command and stick out your tongue, really playing into your slut title. 

“Mmm, good girl.” He praises before slipping his cock into your eager, awaiting mouth. 

You begin bobbing your head up and down, taking him as far back as you can before fucking his cock with your throat, ‘gawk, gawk, gawk’ fills the expanse of your perfectly decorated living room. 

Meanwhile you can still slightly hear Eddie through the headset, you can tell by the way Steve is smiling that the metalhead is losing his shit. 

And then the next thing you hear is “sure man, doors unlocked.” Before Steve removes the headset from over his ears and throws it behind him, onto the leather couch. 

Your heart races at the thought of having both Steve and Eddie. Holy fuck, you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

By the time you hear the front door open and close, Steve has you bent over the couch, dress hiked up and your panties pushed to the side as he laps at your juicy pussy, sending occasional flicks and sucks to your throbbing clit that have you so close to losing your mind. 

“Fuuuck.” You hear Eddie before you see him, his voice is salacious and filled with lust. “Couldn’t wait for me, man?” It’s also breathy as if he ran from his van to the door, which would not surprise you.

“There’s enough to go around, relax.” Steve says in a stern voice, making Eddie somehow instantly submit. “Get over here.” He demands again, between soft suckles to your sensitive nub. 

You hear the heavy steps of his boots as they pad closer to the couch, then a hand adorned with warm metal heats the skin of your ass as he rubs it appreciatively. 

“God, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to touch this ass… Steve and I both, ain’t that right big boy?” Eddie reveals before pulling his best friend's head out from between your legs. 

“Been waiting so long.” Your step brother admits with a whine, as if he was a kid who had his favorite treat just taken away.

Eddie’s words surprise you, never has Steve ever shown any interest in you; so is this something they’ve talked about? Although Steve is pleasuring you to almost climax with his eager tongue, you still can’t help but feel confused over the whole thing. 

“Don’t overthink it, princess. Just let us make you feel good.” Eddie purrs into your ear as if he was able to see the confusion written all over your face.

You shake your head in agreement, the scratchy leather of the sofas fabric smushed into the side of your face as the two boys play with your body as if you’re they’re shared toy. 

Your whole body jerks up when you feel a big drop of spit hit your puckered hole and then a finger slowly rubbing circles over it, the same finger dips into the tight ring of muscle making you gasp and moan in surprised pleasure. 

“Oh fuck, that’s such a tight little asshole.” Eddie says, almost breathless from his excitement. Before you know it, Eddie drops to his knees behind you the metal chain attached to his pants clanks against the hardwood floor. You gasp as you feel his wet tongue and the metal from his tongue ring gently glide along your second hole before the licks get rough and he’s probing at it, fucking you with his salivating muscle.

You pant and moan as you begin meeting his little thrusts, working yourself on his tongue; his hands rub the globes of your ass before spreading you wider. You take a peak over your shoulder at the long haired boy, his eyes are closed in concentration and his black polished nails are digging into your skin. Everything is so hot that you can’t help but drench his tongue and chin with your arousal as it flows out of you, while he goes back and forth between both holes. 

Movement catches your attention out of your peripheral and when you meet Steve’s hazel orbs, they’re alite with a fire you’ve never seen from him before. He smirks at you devilishly as he begins fucking himself with a tightly wrapped fist, he pauses to drop a glob of spit onto his tip all the while never breaking his lewd and lustful gaze. 

“Pup?” Steve interrupts with a low, salacious rasp. 

“Hm?” The metalhead hums, breaking away from you as if on command.

Pup? What the hell. 

“Why don’t you come over here and show our little fuck toy what that mouth can really do. Who knows, maybe she’ll learn a thing or two.” He laughs but there’s no real humor behind it. 

Okay, now you’re really confused, what the fuck is he talking about? 

Eddie quickly gets up onto his booted feet, taking a few steps over to Steve and instantly dropping back onto his knees, the whole display causes you to turn around, plastering your naked bottom onto the sofa as you eye them with complete curiosity. 

The metalhead wraps his ringed fingers around your step brother's lengthy cock, and you can’t help but gasp in surprise. They both smile at your reaction with matching mischievous smirks before Eddie’s lowering his head and taking Steve’s spit slick tip into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks and sucking. He begins bobbing his head, taking Steve further into his throat while Steve’s eyes continue to burn holes into yours. It’s as if he’s challenging you, or wanting some of that reaction he wasn’t able to get from you earlier. 

You can’t help but flick between the pretty boy's eyes and the bob of Eddie’s head, who is sucking dick like an actual pro. It's all so enticing, like your own personal porno laid out right in front of you. 

Wet slurping and groans fill the silence of the room, and you can’t help it when you slip your fingers under your dress and begin rubbing at your sensitive cunt. Steve grunts when a low moan falls from your lips—

“If you want someone to give that little pussy some attention, then get your ass over here. Now.” His demand sends a chill through your spine, you watch closely as he gathers Eddie’s curls up into his fist before pulling him off, the slick pop makes your knees weak with need and when you plop yourself right next to Steve’s side, you notice the spit that connects itself from Eddie’s lips to the angry, red tip of Steve’s cock. 

The metalhead smiles up at you before giving a few more kitten licks to the tip, then gliding his silver tongue ring along the pretty boys purple throbbing veins “You wanna fuck her, pup?” Steve asks flippantly, as he tugs Eddie’s head up by his nape. 

“Y-yes, I want to fuck her so bad, sir.” Eddie whines, his eyes trained on Steve’s although he can’t help the subtle glances he makes towards you in between. Eddie has wanted you before you became his best friend's step sister, and Steve knows that; so of course he’s gonna tease him and make him beg. 

“Well ya know what? I think I’m gonna fuck her little cunt first, while you be a good boy and watch. Maybe I’ll let you have a treat if you don’t touch that greedy cock of yours.” Steve states as his lips flip up into a conspiratorial smirk before tossing Eddie’s head back and gesturing for him to sit on the coffee table. 

“Take it out though, I want her to see how you drip for us, how bad you wish it were you fucking her instead of me.” Although you’ve been thrown into a confused loop about their newly revealed dynamic, you can’t help that his words are going straight to your core, making you drip all over the leather seats. 

Steve manhandles you into a laying position across the cushions, the new angle has you completely visible to Eddie and he’s already beginning to throb and leak but you haven’t even been fucked yet. 

His cock is hanging out of the unzipped slot of his black leather pants yet they’re still buttoned, his balls sit just over the crotch; and there’s something about him being fully dressed with just his cock and balls out that you find so hot. But that’s not all, what makes your breathing stutter and your pussy pulse, is the silver ring that he has pierced into the head of his almost painfully, purple tip. 

Steve in the meantime tears his sweatpants and briefs off from around his ankles, before taking the backs of your knees and hiking them up, he eases onto the sofa on his knees as the head of his cock unintentionally rubs against your slit. His precum and your wetness both make a mess of the material beneath you. 

You can’t help when your eyes move back over to Eddie’s and the pained and pining look on his face causes you to whimper with need. 

“Look at me, kitten, keep your eyes on me while I tear open this little pussy.” Steve groans before working his tip into your entrance. Once the heads sheathed inside, your step brother can’t help but to slam the rest of the way in. It’s criminal how tight and wet you are for him. 

“Fuck, take it baby. Been thinking about you taking my cock for too fucking long now.” Steve admits through gritted teeth. 

“Feels so good.” You moan as his thrusts pick up, he’s now pounding into you with no remorse. 

“Yeah kitten? This cock everything you dreamed it’d be?” He asks before a cocky smile graces his handsome face. 

“Better.” You confess through breathy whimpers. 

You hear Eddie release a ragged breath and when you look back over at him, his hands are gripping the edge of the coffee table so tight that his knuckles are white. He looks like he’s trying his best to either not touch his cock or touch you and a quick shiver runs down your spine in anticipation. 

“Eyes. On. Me.” Steve borderline growls as he continues fucking into you, his hair is all disheveled and his eyes are blown wide. The look is unbelievably erotic and something you’ve wanted to witness for so long that it instantly throws you over the precipice and into an intense orgasm. 

Your moans and whimpers are loud but you can hear Eddie’s praises between them. 

“Good girl.” “Can’t wait to fuck that cunt.” “You're ours now, princess.” 

“Such a good fuckin girl.” Steve groans in agreement. 

His needy pumps get more erratic and sloppy as a grunt falls from his reddened lips, he quickly pulls out of your soaked center and barks a demand—

“Pup, here. On your knees, now.” He enunciates with a snap of his finger, before pointing to the floor in front of him. 

Eddie slides to his knees and opens his mouth without a second thought before Steve's warm cum hits his tongue and pools on the pink muscle. 

“Keep it in, don’t swallow until I tell you to.” Steve says before giving Eddie a quick pet on his head, as if to tell him how proud he is. 

“Good boy, now I want you to fuck her while you keep my cum in your mouth.” Steve orders again. 

And like the good little submissive boy you’ve just now found out Eddie is, he lunges for you and makes himself comfortable between your thighs in seconds.

His hand grips his cock before he’s gently rubbing the piercing against your swollen clit, a loud whimper cascades out of your mouth from how sensitive you still are and you can see the amusement in Eddie’s eyes, and the tiny smirk on his cum slick lips.  

Once the pierced head reaches your slit and he begins to breach your entrance, you can’t help but to clench around the foreign object. 

Eddie grunts and drops his head as you tighten around him, he’s already close to coming and he wants to tell you how fucking good you feel, but he can’t swallow the cum in his mouth until Steve tells him to. This whole thing started out as a way for Eddie to get the fuck out of his head and Steve already knew he had a sadistic need to dominate, thus leaving him to offer his best friend a helping hand or cock; maybe it was unconventional but it worked for them and they haven’t looked back since, so he’d be damned if he breaks Steve’s rules now. Although he does enjoy being a brat and getting punished on occasion, this moment was just not the time. 

“Let me see.” Steve commands before moving your hair so he can sit down, you gaze up at him from your lying position, quickly noticing that he's pulled his maroon sweats back on, foregoing his shirt and boxer briefs. His muscular arms are crossed over his pecs as he watches Eddie open his mouth to show off the sticky, pearlescent globs of cum still held on his tongue. 

“Kiss. I wanna watch you swap it back and forth.” Steve requests as his hand reaches for his cock that is beginning to awaken in the confines of its cotton prison. “Come on. Be a good boy and share.” He says again, giving Eddie’s brown curls a sharp tug as if to warn him of misbehavior. 

Eddie’s lips are on yours before your fucked out brain can even comprehend the demand. His tongue slips into your mouth and the salty taste of Steve’s cum hits your taste buds making you both moan. Slippery tongues rubbing together, the small metal ball making it that much more pleasurable as Eddie fucks you into the couch. 

“Mmm, so fucking good for me. Both of you.” Steve whispers with a satisfied sigh. 

After Eddie makes a show of spitting the remaining globs of cum into your mouth and licking any that may have escaped down your chin, he brings his lips close to your ear.

“I can feel how close you are baby, you wanna come on my cock so bad, don’t you? Just let go…I’ve been such a good boy, don’t I deserve a present?” He whimpers before running his tongue down your neck and sucking a bruise into your skin. His muffled whines have you tightening around him and choking his cock as you both come together. You're practically milking him as some primal part of his brain has him emptying himself so deep inside you, as if he’s trying to make it stick. 

Eddie huffs a laugh at that because your pussy is actually making him think crazy thoughts.

“God, you two are so fucking sexy together. My good little pets.” Steve’s possessive words cause a satisfied hum to leave your lips. 

Before you drift off to sleep from being thoroughly used, you hear Steve and Eddie kiss with a sloppy smack of their lips.

“Next time I’m gonna fuck your tight little ass while you fuck hers.”

a/n: thank you to my loves @xxbimbobunnyxx , @take-everything-you-can & @corrodedcorpses for beta reading and hyping me up <3

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (1) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: My first Rafe fic :)

word count: 4.4k

In which Rafe finds a "healthy" outlet for dealing with his daddy issues.

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bambi eyes masterlist

Rafe finally felt he deserved to be back at Tannyhill. The house had remained empty over the last five years, Sarah wanted little to do with her real family anymore, Rafe made the tough decision to send Wheezie to a boarding school in Georgia and now she was starting college there. Rafe had cleaned up his act and gotten clean, mostly clean, and managed to save Cameron Development from complete ruin. 

As soon as the police were off his tail, and he’d brought back some legitimacy to the Cameron name, he could develop the true relationships he needed to become unstoppable. It started with Barry, then gangsters from the mainland, and then Rafe's gained connections with the cartels. He then rebuilt the empire the Camerons once had in the Bahamas and now he owned ten times the amount of properties they used to own there. 

He could achieve everything Ward never could have. He could be better a man than his father ever could. 

After half a year in Nassau, Rafe was finally back in Kildare, and he had plans to make Tannyhill the ultimate fortress. He had finally acquired the last missing piece of his American dream – you. He eyed you in his rearview mirror, passed out in the backseat of his truck, before parking in front of the huge, white house. 

There were already white moving trucks parked nearby, men in black clothing unloading new furniture he’d purchased and “merchandise” he’d acquired from the Caribbean Don he’d been working with. That Don is who he purchased you from, picking you out in a lineup of twenty girls. 

The Don clapped his hands together before he said, “Just tell me which ones you would like to have a closer look at. I’ll have them stand and turn for you. If you have something in mind — perhaps a certain skin tone, curviness, hair color, I can make a suggestion.”

Rafe responded that he didn’t have a preference and that he would know you were the one when he saw you. 

Looking through one-way glass, Rafe noticed aspects of each girl, including the tiredness behind their eyes and the elegance at which each of them moved their bodies. The Don had each girl stand and spin for him. There was not a single falter or misplaced step until Rafe saw you. When it was time for you to spin, you almost tripped over your own foot. You fixed yourself quickly and fixed your gaze forward however, Rafe noticed your eyes began to wander. It felt like you were looking right at him. Like you could see him. 

“One of my favorites,” He said in thick Creole, “She’s quite an angel if you’re looking for someone who’s a little tamer. Good hips, natural hair, the breasts and ass are real too. I’m sure you’ll notice. For you, since you’re a friend, fifteen thousand for the whole night.” 

The Don wanted Rafe to become a new investor in his trade and possibly bring girls to Kildare in order to expand his clientele. He wanted to impress Rafe, and let him have a night with one of his well-trained girls, although Rafe was looking to make a final purchase. 

He hadn’t had a real conversation with you yet, he was in such a hurry to get back to the States that he had to keep you drugged for the time being. It would be better this way, he convinced himself, since he would be able to have the house ready before you came to. He got out the truck before opening the back door. Although you stirred slightly in your sleep, Rafe knew he wouldn’t wake you as he pulled you across the seat and wrapped you in his arms. Bridal style, he carried you up the patio and through the front doors. 

An elaborate security system now kept track of everyone coming and going from the house. He had so much more than his father ever would have, but that also meant he had so much more to lose. He was a different man than the last time he was here. Much more mature. He used to throw meaningless parties so he could appear well-known, favorited by all, and hook up with girls who only cared about getting free drugs from him. This time things would be different. 

“Hey, hey, careful with that!” Rafe barked at one of the men carrying a white tea table that he’d spent thousands on.  He was attempting and failing to carry it and the two matching chairs that it came with. Rafe should’ve known what quality movers he was getting when he let Barry put his men on the job, “You think I’m paying you to break my shit?”

Rafe carried you up the winding stairs of his childhood home, imagining you feeling like this place was yours, just as much as he did. He thought he’d feel slightly more melancholy, looking at the familiar yellow walls, the elegant chandeliers, and period furnishings. Instead, he felt a weight lifted off of him. Your bedroom was one of the old guest rooms, only a few doors down from the master, and unlocked with his fingerprint. 

The large room was freshly painted white, a twin-sized canopy bed was placed on the farthest wall, and Rafe placed you on top of the cloud-like comforter. You were still wearing one of his button-ups and a pair of his briefs that fit you more like shorts, Rafe not having had the time to dress you in the way he actually wanted to.

“Put it over in that corner, carefully,” He spoke to the mover carrying the table, although his eyes were focused on you. 

“Mr. Cameron-”

“You’re dismissed. Tell Barry I’m expecting him tonight at nine.” 

As the man turned to leave, Rafe quickly followed to shut the door behind him. He took another glance around the room, deciding that the table set was the perfect edition. He could bring you your breakfast there in the morning and, who knows, maybe you’d come to like the expensive tea set he also bought you. 

Rafe spent a good amount of time just watching you sleep and obsessively thinking about what might he say to you when you awoke. His anxious thoughts didn’t go away when he stopped doing drugs, they worsened in fact, but you were his new medium to focus on. You were healthy for him. 

He spent all the time he had between his meeting with Barry, caring for you, “Daddy’s going to take care of you,” He brought you to the bathtub and gently scrubbed you clean, shaving all the areas he preferred to be hairless, even taking the time to braid your hair so that it was out of your face. He quite liked you like this, like his very own doll, someone he could mold into a perfect Kook princess. Women in the real world often perplexed him, especially women like Sarah, who took the luxuries they were provided for granted. 

You’d appreciate everything that Rafe could offer you, he knew that, and you’d be obedient as well. He brought you back to the main room once you were dried, and clean and your skin was moisturized and scented with vanilla. He laid you on the soft carpet in front of your bed and dressed you in a white nightgown and then took his time rolling white knee socks up your leg. 

He could take his time, pacing himself, as he ran his fingers over every inch of you. He’d been rock hard ever since he undressed you originally, and he debated whether to take a quick sample of you. 

You have plenty of time, Rafe, he reminded himself. 

His phone vibrated a short while later after he tucked you back into bed, and he clicked the notification. Video of the driveway appeared on the screen, and Rafe saw Barry climbing from his car, “Daddy will be back very soon,” He spoke although you couldn’t hear, placed a kiss on your forehead although you couldn’t feel it, and shut the door quietly although you wouldn’t wake. 

As soon as Rafe opened the front door, Barry was already shouting, “Country Club! How you been, man?” Rafe’s hand was already out to shake his. Truthfully, and sadly, Rafe would consider Barry his oldest friend. “You happy about all the money I’ve been making you?”

“Thrilled,” Rafe spoke sarcastically, leading Barry to his father’s old office. He thought back to the days when he had to creep through this room and steal because Ward didn’t trust him. Now, it was all his, “Speaking of …”

Swiftly, Barry pulled a roll of hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and dropped it in Rafe’s hand. Leaning against the oak desk, Rafe began to count, “That’s what I got for the boats. Those cars are going to take a little bit longer to sell.”

“And why’s that?”  

“Those cars are classics, man, so I have a little bit of a bidding war going on,” Barry explained.

“I said I wanted them moved quickly,” Rafe sighed. He needed to get rid of as many of his father’s old things as possible if he wanted this place to be really his. 

“I’ll get you everything by the end of the week,” Rafe nodded, continuing to flip through the bills,  although normally this would be about the time he’d throw a tantrum, “So … heard you got yourself a beautiful girl-”

“Your guys run their mouths.”

“But it’s true?” Barry flashed his gold tooth, “You whipped, Country Club?”

Rafe opened the safe behind the tall bookcases, punched in the code, and safely tucked away the twenty-thousand dollars. 

“Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t let you anywhere near her anyways.”

Barry scoffs, “That breaks my heart, Rafe. I’m tired of these Pogue girls and the mainland chicks are even worse. In the old days, we used to share. You won’t help a brother out?”

Rafe smirked, “Like you said, that was the old days.” 

You felt weighed down by whatever you were lying underneath, your eyelids were so heavy it took you a full minute to blink them open. You moved each limb slowly, trying to get blood flowing through them again. You saw sunlight reflecting off porcelain walls and felt creamy soft blankets enveloping you. You should feel comforted. 

Pushing away the blankets holding you down, you pulled yourself up, strong enough to get onto your hands and knees. You stepped off the platform, off the bed, touching your toes against soft carpet but quickly your legs gave out. You whined as your knees hit the ground, surely bruising your skin, and let yourself fall back on your bottom. 

Something fell down with you and turning your head slightly you found a teddy bear. You grabbed it by its arm, examining its chestnut fur and the pink bow tied around its neck. What? That was the question forming in your mind. You looked back at the bed you’d fallen out of and your eyes darted around the room. Three doors, a wall with big windows and long curtains, a table with chairs, a toy chest, a tall armoire, and a bookcase. This room did not belong to you, even in your wildest dreams, you’d never been somewhere so nice. 

You noticed details in the wallpaper; small pink flowers decorated each wall, and white trim lined all the edges. All the furniture was white as well with elegant designs, and your original thought was that you must be in a castle. 

You attempted to stand again and managed to get straight up on your wobbling legs until there was a small click, and the door began to open. You quickly stumbled back before you were sitting back on top of the mattress. 

“You’ll go with Mr. Cameron now. To America,” Master said, “And you’ll remember your manners, won’t ya? Don’t want to end up like your friend.”

Mr. Cameron stood in front of you now. You remembered him being tall, but you didn’t remember feeling so small in front of him. With hands holding a tray in front of him, his mouth parted as his blue eyes raked over your figure. 

You gripped the comforter tightly as he stepped closer, “You’ll have to take it easy,” He said first, walking over to that small table and placing the tray down, “Let me help you.”

When he came towards you, he held out both of his hands. You felt like you usually did, terrified, but there was always a voice in the back of your head telling you to obey. There would be worse pain than a bruised knee if you didn’t do as Mr. Cameron said. You grabbed ahold of his hands, allowing him to help you up before his hands moved to your hips as he steadied you. 

“How do you feel?” He asked, a genuineness in his tone that you weren’t expecting. 

Your lips parted and you realized you hadn’t spoken in so long. You also hadn’t had anyone ask you that question in a long, long time, “I’m … okay,” You spoke quietly as he searched your face. He was staring so intently that you grew insecure, turning your eyes away. 

“I brought breakfast,” He began to guide you over to the table. You took slow steps, one in front of the other, holding onto him tightly when you felt you might fall. He set you gently down in the chair before taking the seat opposite you. You could see out the windows from this seat, your eyes finding a long dock and the ocean. When he cleared his throat, your eyes snapped back to his, “I’m not much of a cook but there’s a lady who works for me …she makes great pancakes, french toast, anything you could want really.”

You stared down at scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, and a pancake with a chocolate chip smiley face and a whipped cream nose. He started to pour you a glass of water, pushing it towards you, “Drink something,” He said, “You’ve been sleeping for a long time.”

You were really thirsty, you realized, and you took the glass he poured for you. When he didn’t pour himself one, a question rose in your mind, “Will this … make me sleep again?”

He immediately shook his head, “No, no. Drink, please.”

You were thankful, welcoming the nourishment. As you devoured the glass of water, he began to cut up the pancake into small pieces. You watched his concentrated face as he meticulously poured the syrup. Your mind didn’t stay on his interesting behavior because you were focused on eating next. 

“My name is Rafe,” He said, “But you’ll call me Daddy.”

You paused, your mouth full of pancakes, “Okay? Nod yes if you understand,” He added. 

You nodded your head, starting to chew again, and a smile seemed to pull at his lips. That’s what he must like all his girls to call him. “Good, that’s rule number one …This is your room, from now on. I’ll show you around the house after you settle in more. For now, you need permission to leave this room. Yeah?”

Again, you nodded, before swallowing your food. Rafe reached across the table with a napkin, wiping syrup from your chin, “I’m sorry,” You said, feeling embarrassed. 

“No need to apologize,” He assured you, “From now on, I’m going to take care of you.”

Take care of you. You weren’t positive about what he meant. 

Your hands moved to your lap, “Can I ask … how many girls you take care of?” 

His head tilted, and he seemed amused, “Just you, sweet girl.”

“This whole room is just for me?”

“Yes, and this whole house will be just for us,” He answers, “Here, that reminds me. I was going to wait until dinner but . . . I can’t wait.”

You watched as he reached into the pocket of his khaki pants, pulling out a silver necklace with a beautiful, pearl pendant. Still, you found yourself struggling to wrap your head around what was going on. Rafe stood, coming closer in order to put the necklace around your neck. You heard a small click before Rafe pulled his fingers away. Your fingers reach up to feel the pearl, “You’ll always keep this on. Okay?”

You nodded. 

“Tell me.”

“I’ll always keep it on … Daddy,” You remembered to add. Something lit up in his eyes, and he took your chin in his hand and tilted it up further. 

“Smart girl, Bambi,” He stated, “That’s what I’ll call you.”

You nodded, although you weren’t sure why he picked it for you. It was better than “whore” or “slut” which seemed to be Master’s favorites. Bambi sounded … cute, which certainly wasn’t a way you would describe yourself, “Daddy … why …all of this, uhm, for me?”

“You’ll have everything I want you to have. And Daddy wants the best for you, understand?”

“Y-Yes, uhm … thank you.”

“C’mere, let me give you a tour of the room” He gripped underneath your arms, helping you stand. The human closeness, his warmness, wasn’t something you were expecting. You couldn’t fully let your guard down though, you were still waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“It’s good to have, uh, a routine,” Rafe explained, before showing you every item in the room. He clearly had been involved in picking everything out which you didn’t expect,  “You’ll wake up by eight, make your bed every morning. . . your dirty laundry will go here and all your clothes are in here, if I have something specific picked out for you to wear, I’ll hang it here, you won’t wear any panties when you’re dressing for bed …and here’s the bathroom,” When you saw yourself in the mirror for the first time, your eyes widened in disbelief. Your hair was neatly braided, white bows wrapped at the end of each braid, and the nightgown made you look like . . . a doll. In the mirror, you could see Rafe lean his mouth down to your ear, “Do you like what you see?”

“I look …I think I look pretty, Daddy.”

“You do, sweet girl; that’s why I chose you.”

This was right. Rafe couldn’t have made a better decision choosing you. He had more rules to introduce you to but didn’t want to overwhelm you. He left you to brush your teeth while he took your tray of food back to the kitchen. When he returned, he found you peeking inside the toy chest, letting the top shut a little too loudly after he seemed to frighten you, ‘It’s okay, all these things are for you. I wasn’t exactly sure what you might like.”

He kneeled down with you as you took a look inside. There were quite a lot of stuffed animals, some puzzles, coloring sets, and some dolls. “My, uh, my sister Sarah, she used to love American Girl dolls. Have you ever heard of those?” You shook your head, picking up one that was dressed like an 80’s aerobic instructor, “They have all types of dolls. I should order you one that looks more like you.”

Rafe noticed you perk up at that. “One that looks like me?” 

Your reaction made him chuckle, “Yeah, why not? If you want anything at all, you can just ask me,” Rafe could tell you didn’t believe him, although you still nodded in agreement, “I know you can’t be entertained forever by these things, but it’s better for your brain than watching TV all day. And we can watch movies together.”

“That would be nice-” Rafe leaned in to kiss you, his intrusive thought winning after staring at your lips. Rafe was surprised by how gentle it was and how gentle he still wanted to be with you. You were reacting so well to everything, he didn’t want to take the chance of ruining this. When he pulled away, you immediately started to lift your nightgown, attempting to expose yourself to him.

“You don’t have to do that,” Rafe gently grabbed your hand, pulling it away from your dress. 

“I thought you wanted me …”

“ I do, I definitely do,” Rafe laughed awkwardly, “Let’s wait a little while longer. I want to undress you myself.”

You nodded eagerly, “But I … I could use my mouth?”

Rafe couldn’t believe someone could sound so innocent even while they were offering to give a blowjob, “Not before I taste you first, sweet girl.” Sexually, Rafe liked to be in complete control. He’d decide when they were ready, what positions, and who tasted who. His mind was starting to wander a little too far. He needed to remain composed for the time being, “For now, I want you to play. I need to work for a few hours, but I will bring you lunch, and we’ll eat together, okay?”

“Okay…thank you, Daddy,” You agreed, and Rafe happily placed a kiss on your forehead. 

“You’re welcome, Bambi.”

Rafe tried to concentrate on work, he had a million things to arrange now that he was back in Figure 8, but his eyes would wander to the live footage on his computer screen from Bambi’s bedroom. She spent a while going through the toys he bought for her, and then she neatly made up the bed, before deciding on the American Girl dolls. Next thing Rafe knew, he was in virtual meeting with his Cameron Development team but was actively scrolling through the American Girl doll website in another tab. 

Like he promised, Rafe took a break in the middle of the day to each lunch with you. Lana, Tannyhill’s newest household manager, prepared grilled sandwiches. Rafe joined you by the window seat where you had made yourself comfortable with two of the dolls and your teddy bear. You asked about Figure 8, of course, and Rafe gladly gave you the basics. 

That night, after dinner was enjoyed, Rafe laid beside you in bed. You chose a book to read together, a chapter book called Bridge to Terebithia, “I have to admit, I’m not much of a reader. But this should be easy enough, right?”

“When you were little, did you always have …this?” You asked, a few pages of reading later, “Books and clothes and seats by the window.”

“I guess I did, yeah,” Rafe answered, “It was not all rainbows and sunshine, though.”

“Your father, was he like Master?”

“Yeah, basically. He was not a good man,” Rafe closed the book, turning his eyes to you “And he’s not your Master anymore, okay? It’s me and you now. Just me and you.”

You tilted your head, nuzzling more into the pillow, “If I’m bad, you won’t send me back?”

“No, not ever,” Rafe said steadfastly. 

“You’ll punish me?”

Your words made him pause, and he could sense your worry, “I’m not going to hurt you, not in any real way,” Rafe’s hands found your waist, he gripped the bare skin beneath your nightgown, before his fingers roamed over your bottom, “You know how to be a good girl, right?”

You nodded, staring back, “Then you have nothing to worry about,” Rafe kissed you again, this time deeply and with the purpose of fully tasting you. He squeezed your bottom tight, pulling your front further against him so he could buck his hips against you. The book fell unread and to the wayside as Rafe roamed his hands over you. 

He should wait, he told himself. It was only your first day here, but you were all that he had been waiting for. The idea that he could have you anytime, anywhere, and anyway he wanted you excited him more. A moan escaped you, and Rafe knew you were overwhelmed with the sensations, but he liked the idea of you feeling too much. He wanted fear in your eyes, fear that you wouldn’t be able to take him, and then he wanted you to fully surrender to him. 

Rafe buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking until you cried out. Rafe knew you were a good girl because you had obediently gotten into bed for the night without your panties. He wrapped a strong arm around your back, easily flipping you onto your back. Rafe pulled away, breathing heavily, as he looked down at you. 

“You okay, sweet girl?” Rafe asked, noticing your eyes were still closed. As you nodded, Rafe said, “Open your eyes for me.”

Rafe parted your legs further, reaching down to feel between your lips. Gently, he stroked up and down, feeling wetness at your entrance, “Tell Daddy how you like it.”

“I . . .” As he dipped a finger inside, your eyes shut again, squeezing tightly. This was a look of pleasure, Rafe noted, “Daddy-ah!”

“I think you want it gentle, hmm,” His index finger moved in and out slowly as his thumb caressed your clit, “I can be gentle, don’t worry.”

Rafe moved painfully slow, watching how every movement of his would change your facial expression. Once you were squeezing around his fingers and soaking the sheets, Rafe pulled down his sweatpants. He pressed his length against your entrance, watching your face as he pushed inside. You took a breath of air, your mouth forming an “o” shape as he slowly eased his way in and out. 

He pressed his body closer to you, your arms instinctively wrapping around his back, and he tucked his head beside yours, his breath caressing your ear. He was gentle like he said, but he had to test your limits and see how deep he could go. Your whimpers told him what he needed to know and he felt your nails begin to dig into his back.

“Daddy, d-daddy, daddy,” You moaned his name, sounding a bit delirious as you repeated it over and over. 

Rafe rocked harder against you, “Tell me. Say thank you for saving me Daddy.” 

“Thank you–” Your voice came out barely above a whisper but Rafe could hear your small voice in his ear, “Thank you for saving me, Daddy.” Your hips writhing beneath him, needing more of him, was the final thing that sent Rafe flying towards the edge of the cliff. 

He wanted to focus, to make himself last longer, but he needed you in that moment. His thrusts became shorter, and he sank deeper inside of you as he reached his peak, “Jesus,” Rafe gasped as you squeezed him tightly, your warmness pulsed around him, “Fuck.” 

He resisted his desire to stay inside of you forever, pulling out and slumping beside you. Rafe’s eyes were wide, and he found himself staring at the ceiling for a moment to process what happened. 

“Was that . . . good?” Your voice brought him back down to reality.

“Perfect, sweet girl,” Rafe took you in his arms, and you cuddled into his chest. Again, he whispered, “Jesus.”

Please let me know what your thoughts and predictions are! Reblog with a comment to be added to my taglist!

Part 2

[kakushino]

The Queen

Ryomen Sukuna x F! Reader

He never orders you around - rather, he requests.

Tags: slight gore, suggestive, fem reader, true form Sukuna Word count: 1,7k

Masterlist

AN: Fanart used in banner made by the amazing @innaillus - be sure to check out their divine fanart Written as a Secret Santa's gift for @zoyakuna - Merry (early) Christmas! (and pls stop slandering Giyuu, it's causing me undue stress)

There was little to amuse you in your secluded throne room underground. 

Correction - there had been little to amuse you out of your throne room, so you had retreated back into your palace - and even then, was it a palace, when there were no servants, no great halls, no music, and no consort?

Just you - the Supreme Sovereign - and your throne made of roots and vines. 

Which made it odd to hear a sound echo in your chamber. You feared nothing, no one, and your heart remained steady, not a beat out of place, your eyes closed as you rested from lifetimes of exhaustion.

“Who goes there?” you called out, not moving from your reclined position. 

You were it to him, the holy grail of his searching - the Queen of Curses. Your name was feared enough that it had been scratched out from all written sources, the feats accredited to you terrifying… yet thrilling to Sukuna. He had needed to meet you, though he knew not why… A deep hunger for companionship, another who could stand at his level, who could reign with him from his Shrine, a craving so consuming he nearly went mad with his searching. 

And he did find you, though hardly in the condition he thought he would.

“This is what You have become? The cynosure of all mortals reduced to a wretch.” 

The voice was rough, forceful - distinctly male - though the tone held a hint of remorse and confusion. “All beauty is short-lived,” was all you said, a slight irritation churning your stomach for the first time in - decades, centuries, millenia? Who knows?

“Not for curses. We are eternal.” You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, and intense. It lashed out at your own, but like water parting around a blade, yours did too, accepting and redirecting the angry force, dispersing it, and eventually absorbing it. It was like taking a deep breath of fresh air after being suffocated under the weight of the world, a drop of water quenching a soul-deep thirst in the desert of life.

You opened your eyes and sat up properly as you studied him.

The man - curse - was tall, broad, and regal. A king would be a title befitting his posture. His hair was a light color you could hardly make out in the darkness of your abode. The dark marks adorning his face stood out starkly against his skin, as did the shape of the disfigured flesh on the right side of his face. Four gleaming eyes were focused on you, four arms relaxed at his sides.

This man was fascinating, and beautiful; he could easily sway the hearts of humans, bring them to their knees. Too bad you were not human.

“Join me, your Majesty.” Despite the wording, it was a plea. How odd. 

“Who are you to ask anything of me?” You blinked slowly. You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, intense, … defensive, lonely. It enticed you, spoke to you in a language you understood all too well. It wasn’t in your nature to deny an honest request.

“Ryomen Sukuna, your Majesty,” he introduced himself. There was a sense of pride in the way he spoke, as if his existence was created, carved out, into the world by his own hands.

Perhaps Ryomen Sukuna would be the cure to your continued boredom. 

You stood up from your throne, your figure hardly atrophied as your cursed energy kept you in peak form. The roots and vines retreated into the cave walls, leaving no trace of your royal seat, the chamber empty again for centuries to come.

“Very well.”

Living with Sukuna was hardly boring. Each day, you felt your apathy falling away as you spent time with the King of Curses, until you smiled freely in his presence. The day you realized he softened you to this degree came all too suddenly.

His cruelty to humans who sought to undermine him was but a flimsy curtain of who he truly was. Like a displeased cat, claws exposed, he scratched up those daring to approach him, but with you -

With you he was as playful and borderline affectionate as the tabby you used to feed back in your human days. It warmed your heart, and your cheeks, to feel his eyes on your figure. It made you feel unsteady on your feet. It made you question who was the ruler of the other, who held the power over the other; the power imbalance slowly became a balance - your energy dimmed by the way he could play you like a puppet.

All these feelings weaved together and knotted around your heart, snaring you in a complex web too tight to escape, exposing your throat to him like a delicacy to be gorged upon.

Only if you let him know, that is.

You somehow felt that a man like him wouldn’t settle, and more importantly, he was a man; just another one of the hordes who wanted a demure consort, you could bet. You were not a dainty flower he likely sought; you were a weed - growing strong despite the harshest of conditions, clawing out a place for your existence where there had been none before. The Curse of Curses.

So you buried those feelings like a female buried herself under layers of junihitoe - though you refused to wear that monstrosity despite the latest fashion in Japan, as all the fabric was too heavy for comfort. You made do with the yukata you stole from Sukuna’s wardrobe. It was definitely not because it smelled like him. 

You kept away from the humans and the ruling in his Shrine, spending time with Uraume, him, or alone in the gardens - until you could not. He’d left you in charge of his Kingdom when he had business to do. 

Human men were deplorable, thinking you were just a weak curse to be manipulated and slandered. You didn’t raise your voice at all, yet it shut everyone up in the hall - save for one local lord thinking himself too mighty to listen. No amount of flattery would have kept him alive after that. A wave of your hand made vines grow out of his guts - burrowing through his flesh as easily as tearing paper apart; sweet-smelling white flowers bloomed from the mess of red-coated plant matter in the middle of the chamber. 

You sat in Sukuna’s throne of bones, regal and untouchable.

That was how he found you - presiding over his subjects like the Goddess you were, and bloody Spring sprouted in front of him, rubies glinting upon the stone floors like a grotesque decoration. 

At first, he had wanted to study you - the Queen of Curses, the Supreme Sovereign, older than him, wiser, more powerful. Forgotten, yet not forgotten enough for him not to find any sources mentioning your title. He had been curious about you, and then he became curious about the feelings you evoked in him. Your presence in his home converted from an adornment into an emollient to him, smoothing the rough edges and softening the spikes of his defenses against you, yet you remained the centerpiece of his attention, even when you weren’t in his presence. He found himself thinking about you in all his waking moments.

“Everyone, out.”

He could not hide his devotion to you if he tried now - it had grown roots in his soul and fed off of his life-force, yet strengthened it twice as much. His heart was set ablaze every time he laid eyes upon your form, the blood in his veins searing hot, branding him from the inside - a slave to you forevermore.

And so he knelt at your feet, the bottom two of his arms supporting him as he leaned forward, his top pair carefully reaching for your foot and raising it to his face.

The King of Curses kissed your ankle, closing his eyes in silent worship to his Goddess, his World. 

“Your Majesty,” he greeted you in a whisper, his lips caressing your skin.

Your eyes grew soft as you studied him, your posture proud but your expression fond. “Sukuna.”

Wet, hot tongue darted out to taste your skin, making you jolt and tear your leg from his grasp with pursed lips. The tabby was particularly impertinent today.

“You have no respect for your Queen, do you?” 

“On the contrary, I hold all the respect for you.” His smirk was mischievous, he knew as well as you did neither of you were serious about this. Just a harmless teasing, if a bit skewed. 

You used your foot to lightly push against his chest to tip him over onto his back - which he let you do, for he could have as easily resisted. Even falling down, he looked graceful. It made you feel warm inside your ribcage as you pushed a joyous smile down.

Sukuna turned the fall into a backwards roll, ending up on his knees again.

“At least you know your place - on your knees before me…”

“I-” he licked his lips, “I would gladly be on my knees for you all day, Your Majesty.”

Oh? It was your turn to give him a smile full of mischief as he slowly moved back to you. You remained silent.

“Has a cat got your tongue?” 

Sukuna shuffled forward on his knees, his top pair of arms resting on the bones of his throne as he came even closer. Palms trailing to your thighs and covering them with his hands - an easy feat with his size. 

You could do naught but marvel at the contrast of your limbs and his - each powerful and deadly in their own right, each in a different way. There was no tremor of fear in your muscles, only anticipation, even while he lightly spread your legs to fit his torso between them as you lounged on his throne.

“Let me feast on your nectar.” His voice, smooth like silk, a plea rather than an order, the nuance of his tone telling all you needed to know. He appeared unreadable to others, but he was as exposed and vulnerable as a newborn babe to you at this moment.

Even so, your lips parted in surprise at his request for you didn’t expect him to say it out loud at last. “Forward, aren’t you?”

His carmine eyes - all four of them - focused on yours with an intensity you were only just getting used to with him. Sukuna said nothing as he waited for your response.

The devil didn’t bargain, after all.

“Very well… Show me how you would worship your Queen, my King.”

dividers by the divine @benkeibear

network: @enchantedforest-network

[aweina]

౨ৎ. MANSPREAD ( 17﹢) ; mike schmidt

tags fem reader. established relationship. dry humping / heavy petting. begging. no reader orgasm ( boo ! ! ). cocky to submissive mikey + 1.8k words.

mike cannot seem to keep his legs closed. literally. sitting next to him was a total hassle. his legs covering every perimeter of leg space he could reach — leaving your knees buckled together and tucked in whatever corner you’re forced into.

you’ve mentioned his bad habit before, in which he mumbles an indolent “sorry” and then the next day, continues to do the same thing he’s half heartedly apologized for. at this point, you’re not sure he was doing it to press your buttons or his permanent restlessness has caught up with his memory.

then playful slaps on the knee became another idea. a quick sting to his skin kept his reactions stunned, buckling his knees together from your sharp touches. each slap garnered a short cry and a sudden flinch like some invisible string tied his legs together.

it worked, but only for a few days.

now mike catches your wrist halfway from making contact on his knees, gently tugging you down in the corner of the linen couch with a delighted chuckle. either that or he tosses you a knowing glance when you come by the couch, a raised brow and his hands protecting the caps of his knees — glancing his soft hazel eyes towards the tiny empty space beside him.

what a total ass.

all your solutions to stop his leg spreading habit seemed to do nothing for mike. instead, it made him even more repulsive — the spatial width between his legs could nearly reach the arms of the couch, leaving your poor body folded to regain any left over space. then his arms spread along the plush pillows — his rough hand would ever so often teasingly tug at your ears or play with the loose strands of your hair, pulling the ends while playfully twirling it in his finger.

in the corner of your eye, you swore there was a smug smile etched onto his face.

yeah, he’s totally doing this on purpose.

you thought a bit harder after that day. re-enacting different scenarios in your head without it resulting in some unneeded argument — nearly burning abby’s lunch in the process. but like a flash of light, it suddenly hit you. if mike was going to rob you of personal space, why can’t you do so to him?

“um … are you okay?” abby glances up at your blank eyes in concern, the chicken that was supposed to be golden brown violently sizzled from the bubbling oil, grimly layered under a blanket of black charcoal.

“o – oh, yes i’m fine abs.” you assured the smaller schmidt, transferring the hot pan away from the scorching stove — your inner victory delayed by your own clumsiness.

to salvage her burnt meal, you both shared a box of fresh delivered pizza for lunch.

but now it was that time.

it’s nighttime, mike was comfortably splayed on the couch, mindlessly flipping through channels. as it always was, his legs covered every crevice of the couch — body propped completely in between the plush cushions. the gray baggy sweatpants he changed into clung to his frame well — heavily ruffled on the parts you would love to get an eyeful of. his shirt was slightly damp from a warm shower, the gentle curl patterns in his brown hair glistened under the colorful glow of the television.

mike catches your lingering gaze, a pleased smile on his face.

“you’re not going to sit down?” he slurred a quip, patting down on the other end of the couch — seized by his thick thighs.

he refrains from teasing you for your blatant staring, but instead, for your multiple failed attempts to get him to stop his obnoxious leg spreading.

“oh yeah i will.” you mocked his sluggish tone, going to get yourself a cold drink before you make your way over to the couch.

blocking his view from the blaring screen, you purposely bent down in slow motion — distracting him from his vacuous browsing to simply put your drink down. mike quirks a brow at your little act, but still makes no effort to scoot over, barely moving a muscle.

then your body began to engulf his vision, fluorescent light spilling in the sides of your shadow. confusion knitted into his brows until suddenly, the air in his lungs were punched out from an added weight. the heavy crash of your body made mike rasp a curse, making him pathetically adjust himself after being nearly sunken in the folds of the aged couch — one hand clawing at the cushions for some stability.

“r – really? on my lap?” mike managed to breath out, holding your waist steadily with his free hand — your body felt so good flushed against his.

the innocent attempt to adjust himself ended up with him grinding on your ass, eliciting a low groan from his lips.

gosh, he’s too loud.

you hurriedly fish out the remote from his weak grasp, changing the channel to something that could hopefully muffle the pathetic noises that spill from mike’s mouth. abby’s room was still nearby the living room, the lights off and the door completely shut.

“well … you never give me room on the couch, so i think this is fair.” you explained leisurely, tossing the remote to the side as you grappled onto his spread knees, lifting off some weight to rub slow, shallow circles over his clothed cock.

mike fought back a needy whimper, biting his lip until fleshy pink turned paper white. the cooling sensation of his damp hair did nothing from how much his body was burning up. both his hands cling desperately onto the handles of your waist — kneading and lightly grazing his nails in your soft skin.

a throbbing warmth brushed against your clothed clit, mercilessly constricted by the confines of his sweatpants. you fought back a whine yourself, desperately tugging at the gray fabric with sealed lips. every steady brush of your soft flesh made mike see stars, the urge to lift his hips and grind harder into the curve of ass sat heavy in his lust hazed mind. yet his obedience seemed to glimmer brighter than his deviant instincts.

“ha ha- harder – ngh – please go harder.”

he sounded so sweet, so needy. you couldn’t deny him when the pool of his sticky precum oozes through the gray fabric — gossamer strings that weaved your dripping arousal with his own.

“s – stay still then.” you whispered, now fully pressing your weight against his hard cock — your back against his panting chest.

mike does what you ask, gluing his hips down to the cushions.

his heartbeat was racing against time, pumping all the hot blood that rushed down to his cock. his warm breath fanned the back of your neck, sending electric waves down your spine. his touches were sweaty, latching and kneading anything that pertained to softness. the open mouthed kisses he planted on your bare neck blossomed into purple hues, the drag of his teeth and muted whimpers coercing you to absolutely destroy him.

your hips rocked faster on his cock, the throbbing imprint tucked between the curve of your ass. his grip felt extra tight on your hips, reddish crescent marks decorating your flushed skin. mike throws his head back on the couch, his usual deep groans replaced with airy sighs. he closes his eyes, the same stars dancing in his eyelids — your heady scent making it harder for him not to hold you down himself and hump his cock against your pussy.

he’s so close, he can feel it.

“might cum – ah fuck.” mike warns with a high-pitched whine, the blasting audio from the television really doing him a favor.

you can tell too. his cock hasn’t stopped throbbing ever since he’s accidentally grind against you. his seeping precum never seemed to stop, only staining against the seat of the couch. he was like a horny teenager, so desperate to get off and trying so hard to compose himself. not like the asshole who was taking up all the space on the couch.

this was a great plan after all.

with one hard press against his cock, a spill of scorching heat nestled into your clothed pussy — eating through his soiled fabric and coating your covered folds. with no restraint whatsoever, mike’s deep groan vibrated the dimly lit living room, mindlessly bucking his hips lazily over your cunt like he could possibly pump some cum along your walls. the stars that whirled under his lids dispersed into a warm, satisfied feeling all over his usual restless body.

the very last minute, your hands flailed over his panting mouth — looking over to the direction of abby’s room. he seems to realize how loud he was, eyes widening as he hastily grabs onto the discarded remote, amplifying the volume to a considerate tone. not too loud to wake her up but definitely loud enough to cover the after effects of your intense heavy petting.

the light in her room remains untouched, her delicate footsteps nonexistent. she’s still asleep, thank goodness.

still both hazy from your lustful highs, mike drops the remote and snuggles into the crook of your neck — taking in your addicting scent while admiring the love marks he gave you. his cock softened under the soiled fabric, the sticky feeling making him furrow his brows. but then he realizes one thing, the sudden flinch of his body made you alarmed.

“i – i’m sorry. you didn’t get to cum.” mike sheepishly apologizes, fiddling with the waistband of your soiled shorts.

you shook your head with a relieved sigh, leaning back to gently kiss his stubble jawline — combing your fingers through his soft curls, dried on the top but the ends damp with sweat.

“i’m fine, baby, but you can make it up with one thing.” you mumbled in the base of his ear, a playful smile on your face.

in the corner of his eye, he can see the curl of your lips — the sight earning an eye roll.

“i already know what you’re going to say, but let’s hear it.” mike’s voice was baritone next to your flushed face, completely contrasting his previous whines and whimpers.

“give me all the space on the couch for now on.” you laugh when mike groans, still pulling your body closer to his despite this new ordeal.

“okay fine.” he defeatedly mumbles into your shoulder, his rough hands tracing over your bruised hips to your neglected chest — reaching under to knead your soft skin for his own enjoyment.

the moments of comforting silence were therapeutic, not even the continuous dialogue and sound effects from the bulky screen could ruin its peace. there was something still ticking mike off, he didn’t want to ruin this sweet moment but he couldn’t help it.

“are you sure my lap isn’t good enough?” he pleaded, a glint of hope in his hazy eyes — the couch being his only source of possession where he could splay himself comfortably.

you scoffed, rolling your eyes in the back of your head.

“no.”

it was an attempt.

he huffs in defeat, now kneading at your chest for some comfort.

“okay.”

© aweina : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.