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#look a new and literally shiny one
tubbytarchia · 8 months
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@mcyt-yuri-week day 1 Sun/Moon awooga awooga (Aiko - Star/スター) (Lyrics TL)
(Yeah you're only gonna see GemPearl from me)
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shima-draws · 2 years
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Me: Hey can you help me shiny hunt for Iron Moth my eyes hurt from squinting at the TV so much
My sister: Sure
My sister, two (2) seconds after sitting on the couch: There’s one
Me: WHAT THE FU C K
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Conversation
My 'Signalis' experience in a nutshell.
Rose-engine probably: Here are these two lesbians who are totally tragic and deep. You are supposed to love them and care about them because they're sad and they danced together on a ship.
Me, wrapping Adler in a safety blanket and picking him up in my arms to carry him away from the eldritch hellscape: I'm sorry, I can't hear you over how much I love my new son and how he deserves better.
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anguis-sapphire · 2 years
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I FOUND A FULL ODDS SHINY MARILL
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playingonedchess · 8 days
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i never even particularly like my old uni room whys this stupid new place making me miss it
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sxlphie · 2 months
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We need to stop discussing animated films until we all figure it out somehow. Just saw someone say with their chest that Hoodwinked needs an "HD remake". Behave yourself.
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moe-broey · 4 months
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HATE. When I start Longing for a specific Pokemon but I really don't care about any of the games it's appeared in. Like. Deep desperate urge to shiny hunt a Pumpkaboo, I've wanted one for years, I want it SO BADLY, maybe even enough that I want to start a new save and have one on my team, that would be so cool. However, due to online being shut down I can't justify losing what little Friend Safaris I have (they stay in your Friends List ofc, but you'll be locked out of the third Pokemon on a new save), and also. Just don't care about X and Y. And then there's Galar. Pretty game. No substance. To me anyway. Lost interest as soon as I beat the main story. And like, I Guess there's SuMo/Ultras, but I'd have to transfer one in.... and idk if you can even do that at this point.
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nmakii · 7 months
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GETTING CAUGHT IN THE MOMENT… LIPSTICK ON YOUR FACE
— alastor + lucifer + vox getting caught with lipstick stains all over them…
— generally gn!reader. guys can wear lipstick too smh
hehe i got a new lip tint (˶‾᷄ ⁻̫ ‾᷅˵) maybe alastor’s part is a little self-projected
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— alastor
alastor himself isn’t one for physical affection. in fact, the thought itself makes him feel dirty. someone else’s skin against his… eugh…
though, when it came to you, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself; hands clawing and playing with your hair, wrapping his arms around your neck, pinching your cute cheeks, holding your hand… it’s almost as if he’d double-die without you near!
and the only thing he’d enjoy more than that would be having his affection reciprocated; interlocking your arm with his, a surprise hug from behind, a kiss on the cheek, they are all more than appreciated! especially the thing about kissing…
a kiss from you is simply just exhilarating. the suddenness yet sweetness of it, it’s truly the purest form of love, regardless of if it’s familial, romantic, or platonic— it’s the purest expression of your love for another person.
so, just imagine alastor’s reaction to your new lipstick, strawberry red to give your lips a glossy color, yet still light enough to appear natural. the pretty hue of red complimenting your face features perfectly by giving it the color it needs as to not appear pale.
absolutely gorgeous. so confusing how a simple amount of color could make you look as if you were an angel from heaven itself. you quite literally took his breath away from just applying a new lipstick…
at some point, alastor had reached some sort of limit when he finally caved into his inner desires, bringing you to a secluded place in the hotel, his hands moving to your hips and hair.
he couldn’t wait any longer to place his lips on your’s, your lipstick smearing all over his thin lips. kissing him from his cheeks to his jawline, leaving light pink stains all over his skin.
he groaned at the feeling of wet lipstick all over his face, and at the same time reveled in the ways you are telling everyone that the only one who could see the radio demon in such a needy and doe-like state would be you; he’d be yours to fool around with, and yours to do however you’d see fit. just as you are his— no one else’s. the smeared lipstick on the side of your lips should send that as a statement enough to whatever lowlife hooligan would even attempt to sweep you off your feet.
when the two of you had returned, it was a strange sight to say the least… alastor’s face and jaw covered with pink lips, and you with your lipstick smudged and smeared off your lips, instead all over you neck.
“well, uh… you two look like ‘ya had lot’sa fun…” angel said monotonously, awkwardly trying to keep up conversation. “ohh, most certainly!” alastor grinned, his transatlantic accent popping through the radio static.
he knows he could’ve wiped it off… he has a handkerchief in his back pocket, he could’ve easily saved himself that awkward conversation.
but, he didn’t.
could you blame him? he wants all of hell to know that both you and him off-limits for good.
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— lucifer
when many imagine the king of hell, it’s hard to think he’d be a social piranha. the same case had gone for you.
who knew lucifer was still as pure of heart as he was during his time in heaven? and who knew he’d fall for someone so easily after the sudden disappearance of his wife?
when he saw you, it was practically love at first sight! your big eyes, your shiny hair, and those big pretty lips of yours that he just wanted to kiss so badly…
he listened carefully as charlie introduced you to him, trying to remember every detail about you and every feature on your face, stuttering over his words once it was time to speak for himself.
and somehow, despite his meekness towards you and your awkwardness whenever he was around, you two ended up in a relationship— with the help of vaggie and charlie’s meddling in pushing you two together.
the two of you loved each other, of course… but it was always hard to express. the only way lucifer knew how to show his love was through his presence and gifts. he wasn’t hell’s greatest kisser, but he tries.
and, today— it was your 5 month anniversary… quite a long time, the hotel’s been good so far, no major threats other than one of cherri bomb’s occasional explosions. and because of how long it’s been, you decided to do something a little special… put on some relatively expensive clothes and make-up your face a little bit.
when lucifer saw you all dolled up, he was honestly a little stunned. lips as red as an apple, hair as soft as silk, the words were stuck in his mouth. “w- er- wow..! i’m not dressed up or anything— agh, this is awkward..” lucifer muttered. “hey, it’s ok… this was a surprise for you, y’know?” you said, comforting him slightly.
“you look… stunning today” he smiled, carefully putting down his anniversary present for you on his work desk, still wrapped in a red ribbon. he made his way to you, hands making their way to your cheeks to softly cup them as he gently leaned into you for a kiss.
he released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding as you kissed his face all over, as if healing the wounds of his past with his present. his banishment into hell, lilith’s abandonment, they all didn’t matter anymore, you are the present and the future.
he wrapped his arms around your waist in a hug as he kissed your forehead, the residual lipstick from his lips smeared onto you.
lucifer laughed awkwardly before using his finger to carefully rub off the pink stains on your forehead. “haha… c’mon, i got a dinner reservation in the lust ring tonight…” he laughed, interlocking his arm with yours.
“don’t you wanna take off that lipstick on your face first?” you raised an eyebrow at him. “i mean… i dont minddd… so, it’s only if you wanna take if off” his eyes wandered, his cheeks growing flustered “hmm… nah. i want everyone to know you belong to me now.” you grinned mischievously.
and when the two of you walked out of the hotel lobby, charlie went to wish you a safe trip and happy anniversary before she noticed the stains on her dad’s face. “err… dad..? you gotta a little something there…” charlie muttered as she pointed all over his face. “ah..? yeah, i know” he laughed it off, proudly showing off to hell how hopelessly devoted he is to you.
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— vox
vox was a busy man. from having many public appearances, to coming up with new ideas for voxtek, to putting out valentino’s temper tantrums, he barely had the time for romance.
barely. he loved you, truly. he keeps you dear to his heart, no matter how busy he’d be, vox would still make time for you late at night.
everyone had known you, why wouldn’t they? you’re the partner of one of the most influential overlords in hell, that’s a feat that is amazing to accomplish, dating vox in itself has made you into a sort of local celebrity; causing you to be invited to many galas, parties, and occasional raves.
and tonight happened to be the night of one of those parties. zestial had invited you to a formal dinner party, an all star guest list filled by many of the goetic princes, various overlords in hell, and other local hellborns such as verosika mayday.
“please, voxxx? just this once, it’s only like 3 hours!” you grumble as your apply a coat of ruby red over your lips, checking your appearance in the bathroom mirror. “i can’t.. i have a 5:00 with val and velvette, then after that, a board meeting about new gadgets to release…” vox groaned, already pissed about the day ahead.
“fine then, your loss.” you pouted, rolling your eyes as you left the bathroom and into the bedroom. “holy shit…” vox sighed out. “you look… really good, my love.” he walked over to you, his hands moving to your body, outlining the clothes’ stitching as he recognized it to be the one he had custom-made for you.
your hands rested on vox’s shoulders, forcibly making him lean over a bit before leaving various kiss stains all over his screen.
vox visibly tensed as his screen started glowing a bright teal, showing his clear embarrassment as pink smudges fogged his screen.
his breath heaved as his hands moved all around your body, desperate to find some kind of relief to his pent-up stress.
ending your kiss attack all too soon on his lips, you pulled away, your lips slightly pale now as you grinned at him. “spend the day looking like that and i’ll give you more after work” you winked, taking your belongings and leaving out the door, leaving a flustered vox in your bedroom, covered with lipstick stains.
“vox… the fuck is going on with your face?” velvette snarled. “it looks as if you got fucking mauled by a bear pretending to be a woman.” she yelled, her british accent making her trip over some consonants.
vox sighed, hearing valentino mutter some sort of dirty comparison of vox to a prostitute. “instead of focusing on me, why don’t you put your efforts into our agenda today?” vox frowned, his tone clearly saying that he’s holding himself back from releasing a flood of curses onto the two…
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agoodflyting · 3 months
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Why Aziraphale is completely ridiculous in the Bastille scene (and I love him so much for it)
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A while ago I posted a comparison of Aziraphale and Crowley's costumes in the 1793 flashback in Good Omens and I wanted to add these little tidbits. (Because they haunt me.)
I feel like most people know this but IF YOU DON'T, Paris in 1793 is right in the middle of something called La Terreur.
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HISTORY LESSON If you didn't learn this in school the French Revolution was when, after years of escalating social tension, a coalition representing the working classes of France revolted against the monarchy, violently overthrew King Louis XVI, and declared France to be a republic.
The new National Convention governing France ruled that King Louis XVI and his wife Marie Antoinette were traitors to the people of France because of how they had spent ridiculous amounts of money on luxuries for themselves while vast numbers of the lower classes were literally starving to death. (keep the bold in mind - wealth and class disparities were one of the key causes of the whole-ass revolution)
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In 1793 (year of the flashback) both the King and Queen were executed by guillotine for their crimes.
This kicks of something called The Reign of Terror (La Terreur if you want to be French about it). A multi-year-long period in which the National Convention goes on a bloody witch hunt for any and every member of the middle or upper classes who could even possibly be considered a traitor by those same standards.
If you A) had money or privilege, and B) had ever used your money or privilege to treat yourself, you were getting executed. Over 25,000 people died during the Reign of Terror, half of them by guillotine. In fact, the iconic guillotine was used because it was physically impossible to keep up with the sheer number of people they were executing in Paris every single day.
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Some things that could get you killed (actually and completely seriously) during the Reign of Terror:
Implying in any way you were sympathetic to the monarchy
Having a noble title
Having expensive things
Wearing expensive, luxurious clothes (*cough* AZIRAPHALE)
helping or sympathizing with anyone who did any of the above
a working-class person saying you were mean to them once
And then there's this bitch...
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I AM NOBILITY PLEASE KILL ME So we have established that Paris in 1793 is in the middle of a frenzied, state-sanctioned bloodbath in which the working classes are massacring everyone even remotely nobility-adjacent. And in the middle of this frenzy, Aziraphale proceeds to roll up in Paris in this outfit:
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How will this outfit get him killed? Let me count the ways...
First off- at this point everyone with even the tiniest shred of self- preservation is hiding the fact that they are in any way associated with the monarchy. The wealthy are straight-up abandoning mansions. The middle-class are plastering over decorations to make their house look 'poor'. The only people dressed remotely decent are the guys leading the National Convention and that's just because nobody can stop them. Everyone else is in 24/7 peasant cosplay or else they are covering themselves in cockades and sashes on to show they're pro-Republic.
Aziraphale is basically a giant shiny white sign saying I AM NOBILITY PLEASE KILL ME.
First off the lace jabot and lace cuffs are both associated with the old-school wealthy in the 1790's.
His coat is also decorated in gold braid and silver buttons, which are both marks of wealth and luxury.
He basically looks like he works for Louis XIV - not just rich, but old school rich.
We know it's his natural hair color, but hair powdering (with clay and starch) had been a big trend with the rich all throughout the 18th century to get that clean white venerable look . To someone who doesn't know it's natural, it would very much look like he's wearing hair powder.
He's wearing shades of cream and white, which are very hard to keep clean and clearly states that the wearer is rich and can afford the upkeep necessary to keep an outfit like that stain-free.
He's wearing white knee-breeches and stockings, also called culottes. See above about laundry and how rich you had to be to wear white, but also working-class men wore long pants like this:
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A large faction involved in the Revolution were the Sans-Culottes (no-culottes aka we wear long pants LIKE GOOD OLD WORKING MEN). Culottes are specifically associated with everything the revolution hated. That's right - Aziraphale is literally wearing The Fanciest of Fancy Pants in a city where a group called The Men Against Fancy Pants are running around murdering people.
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And then there are his shoes.
Oh god his shoes
I could do a whole post about Aziraphale's blessed little white satin pumps and how ridiculous they are.
Actually I might just do that because this is getting so long and I still have to talk about the brioche.
So I can't remember if it's in the script book or if it's from Neil Gaiman's tumblr, but it's apparently canon (?) that Aziraphale was going around in that outfit asking people where he could get crepes and brioche when he was arrested.
The Affair of the Brioches
So... uh... we've all heard the line attributed to Marie Antoinette- how when she was told that her people were starving because there was no bread left in Paris, she famously said...
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It's morphed into 'let them eat cake', but the line is first recorded as, "Then let them eat brioches."
While it's unlikely she ever actually said it, the important thing is that... people in 1793 would have thought she said it. It was used as political smear to show how arrogant and out of touch the monarchy was. Marie Antoinette in particular was reviled by the people of France, who thought she was the main cause of their economic problems. That's why she was executed too.
Bread and brioche and the lines between poverty and privilege were a big thing in Revolutionary France. There was a lot of political connotation to what you ate. The French Revolution came about because of decades of suffering among the lower classes of France. It wasn't something that some dudes just decided to do. The people of Paris have been through years of the absolute worst, most oppressive poverty and starvation you can imagine, all while watching the rich throw money around crazy.
So let us recap.
Aziraphale is dressed so ridiculously posh that he looks like a joke parody of a nobleman... and he is bumbling around Paris during the Reign of Terror. Asking people. For brioche. How I imagine everyone looked at him:
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It is so astoundingly tone deaf and tactless. He is basically cosplaying as Marie Antoinette and then going around asking the poor for cake.
I just.... Aziraphale. babygirl. no. oh no. You're lucky they even bothered to take you to prison. I am amazed Crowley ever let him live that down.
I have no conclusion other than this. Aziraphale is ridiculous and I love him so much.
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YES YOU REALLY SHOULD SIR.
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seattlesellie · 10 months
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Jealous. 🎀
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pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader
cw: mean dom!ellie sub!reader, jealous kinda toxic ellie, eating it through the panties, orgasm denial, spit play (literally spits down ur panties like), exhibitionism, some dude named michael.
an: pls be gentle, i haven’t written in a long time! 💗 credit to angel gbc for the mod used in the picture above <3
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something we can all agree on is the importance of aftercare — right?
Ellie is big on that obviously, as she should. Caressing her slim fingers down your body, planting wanton kisses on your shoulders, running her palms across your shaky thighs, whispering words of encouragement in your ear;
“Did so good for me, babe”
“I love you, so much”
“Need anything? hm?” She’d murmur against your skin whilst cradling your body from behind.
And she always insists on cleaning you up. She consistently renders you nothing but an achy mess, dried up juices staining your wobbly jelly thighs, combined sweat on your breasts and ribs, back of your neck. The ritual of bringing a wet towel to bed, swiping it’s fabric across your inner thighs, your face, your behind — is a sacred one for her. Not solely because she loves hearing your sweet, exhausted sighs of relief as she cleans the soil away, but also not solely because she gets to see your naked body in all of its glory again.
It’s the act of taking care of what’s hers. In a way, when she wipes your cum away, she’s taking care of herself — too.
Here, lays a solid proof that she can break things apart and put them back together again. She’s not a total fucking fuckup.
The ability of making you scream and cry, then moments later have you whisper in that saccharine voice of yours an airy “love you s’much, Els…”
It’s fucking exhilarating.
She loves it every time, she does it every time.
But today… today you pissed her off. You poked the bear, for real this time.
There’s this new Michael guy in Jackson. He’s handsome, tall, has coal black curls that somehow stay soft and shiny even in this apocalyptic hellscape. He told Ellie and you where he was from, what he did, why he came. Ellie didn’t listen to a thing he was saying. It was like he turned into a fly and started loudly buzzing in her ear. He kept looking at you weird. Smiling at you, smirking, laughing at your jokes, even the ones that weren’t all that funny. She knows you have this affect on people, that damn charm, hell — you have this affect on her.
And she’s usually just playfully jealous, manages to keep it relatively tame and simple by tightening her grip on your waist.
But you just wouldn’t stop bringing him up. “Michael” this, and “Michael” that, “Michael invited us for dinner”, “Michael said this funny thing earlier”,
For all Ellie knows Michael could die in a ditch and she wouldn’t give a fuck.
You're on your way back home from the Tipsy Bison on a chilly Thursday night. Jesse was there, Dina, Maria... and Michael. She thinks of his name and it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, tart, pungent.
"Meh, I'm more of a Tequila girl, Whiskey tastes like shit" you announced with a giggle. Michael rested his hand on your thigh, and agreed with a nod and a chuckle. For you, it meant nothing.
For Ellie, it meant everything.
Her blood pressure was usually low, steady, healthy as a bull. As of now, Ellie felt like she just ran a marathon. The blood rushed to her head and her brows furrowed without intention. She cracks her neck and moves it left and right, takes a long and burning sip out of her Whiskey and shuts her eyes. She repeats a mantra in her head; "I'm not angry, I'm not angry, It's fine."
But you're so damn intuitive.
"Els? y'tired?" you murmur towards your auburnette girlfriend. She suckles on her bottom lip and considers saying no, but she lies.
"Exhausted"
You leave the humble bar hand in hand, wrapped up in her big coat that smells of mint and wood and Ellie. She prays you won't mention his name, prays you could just go home and forget about this whole thing, but you do, innocently.
"Oh, Michael said one of the horses is sick, I'm thinking of helping out in the barn tomorrow an—"
She stops you mid sentence with a scoff and a tightening grip on your hand. "Oh, mhm, Michael said that?"
Her voice mocks your own a little.
You stop and shift your gaze towards Ellie who has her lips tucked in a tight line. Internally, she's cussing herself out. You don't deserve her anger, but she can't help herself. Your answer is an unsure hum. Her grip tightens even more, and it hurts your palm but you keep on walking side by side, quietly. Five minutes manage to pass with no words being muttered by no one. That's until she shakes her head and lets go of a husky chuckle.
"Did I do something?", you mutter doe eyed. Ellie stops in her tracks and inhales. She grabs you by your waist and walks towards you, making you have to clumsily pace backwards until your back meets a cold grey brick wall with a resounding thud. "Uhg!" You hiccup, breath catching down your throat. You even sweetly giggle, thinking in your head that this could possibly be just a sweet attack of PDA.
But her eyes are dark, gone from emerald to pine, pupils pitch black as big as a button. Her warm whiskey breath meets your nose and your top lip, you gulp. Why isn't she laughing? teasing?
"El?" your voice is still candied, always. Ellies mouth is agape, scarred eyebrows scrunched and furrowed as if she's confused, or pissed, or provoked. Her forehead meets yours so automatically, you attempt to connect your lips with a kiss but she backs away meanly. Albeit her taunting position, how intimidating and truly scary she looks whilst you're caged within her frame, your'e still smiling, you're still thinking she's just teasing.
You're not used to this, she knows, but god knows she yearns to teach you a lesson.
You don't fuck with what's hers.
She licks her bottom lip before she starts speaking.
"Take off your skirt"
Her voice nearly renders you drunk, It's huskiness, gruffness, it's depth, and really, you've only had one shot. Your cheeks heat up and your ears feel as if they're nearly burning. Her lips are so damn close to yours and she still won't let you kiss her.
"Wh... we're in public, we can't—" you stutter, eyes shifting downwards towards the knee she has shoved near your barely covered crotch. When she brings it upwards just to brush delicately on your inner thigh, you let go of a small gasp.
She responds to your gasp with a barely audible "Mhm?", her eyes sharpening with intent.
"Yes we can", she tsk's, and her voice taunts. Her eyes graze over your face, and you expect her next sentence to bite like the last one did, but her voice goes softer. "For me?", she cocks her head to the side.
And it simply pushes you over the edge.
You peel your skirt off of your body, asscheeks plastered over the brick wall as her body squeezes you further back, and you're left half naked with a piece of fabric scrunched below your knees, resting on your shoes. She eyes your body up and down, meeting your pleading and still confused eyes — and for a moment, thinks of just carrying you home and taking care of business once you get there. No jealousy, none of that.
But it's still bitter down her throat, and she can still picture his disgusting hand meeting your soft thigh, her soft thigh — as your body is hers, so that thought is ever so fleeting. It's either now or now.
Her cold as ice finger traces faint circles on your lower tummy, making the fine hairs of your body rise like soldiers. You whimper quietly as her finger snaps the elastic band of your panties and lets it smack down your pelvis. You rub your thighs together, but you're ever so pliant as she makes your legs spread wide with a boot covered foot opening up your calves like a gate.
She whispers in your ear. "Are you wet?", it makes you shiver.
"M'cold" you whine.
She scoffs.
She kneads your bra cup with her palm, squeezing an erect nipple with her thumb and middle finger. "Didn't ask that"
Her eyes meet your gaze and again she reconsiders this whole thing — because you truly look so needy, and your lips are so pouty and sweet and red with cold, you look as if you'd die if she didn't kiss you right now so how can she even be worried, let alone be jealous?
She knows how much you love her, how much you yearn for nobody but her, how her touch leaves you speechless time and time again.
But it's like something takes over, a dark figure, a figure that's thirsty and starving and wants to prove a thing it already knows.
It's an internal struggle, she doesn't want to be possessive,
She can't help it.
Your panties are striped with pink and white, and she looks at them as if they're the most expensive lace in the whole entire world. Her breathing gets heavier as she curls her fingers inside the cotton fabric, pupils darkening when she notices a sweet clear string of your arousal clinging from the entrance of your cunt to the bottom of your underwear.
She chuckles, followed by a sigh of relief that you notice. You are wet, right in the middle of the street where an innocent soul could catch you at any given moment. "Didn't answer cause you're shy?" She knows you so well. You bite your lip and nod, butterflies fighting in the pits of your stomach. A chaste kiss on the lips is all you get from her, and you deeply whine into the air. "At least kiss me!" you beg, — god, you're so cute when you're pissed.
Before landing on her knees, Ellie looks from side to side in order to check that there's truly nobody around, and no — not because she's scared to get caught, but because she'd die before she let someone see her girlfriend half naked with her skirt down her thighs.
Ellie is face to face with your quivering, pantie covered cunt. A wet patch greets her — a fuckin' pleasure, one she can't help but swipe her tongue across. Your choked up, terrified sound of a moan is a symphony to her hears, fuck Mozart. Her eager muscle of a tongue is so warm against your pussy you nearly forget it started snowing yesterday.
You buck your hips inwards, she groans. "No moving", she warns — simply to assert a dominance that has already been asserted. She kisses your little clit, coo's at the way it slightly pokes out of the fabric, erect and pumping on her tongue. "Ellie... Ellie... Ellie", you babble like a prayer, which she nods to. "S'my name, that's fuckin' right", she groans as her husky voice is muffled by your soaked panties.
"Ellie..." you repeat, thighs beginning to ache as you try and spread them further apart, almost sitting on her face.
Ellie, not Michael.
She smiles, greedy, triumphant.
She flicks her tongue on your clit, once, twice, three times before biting on your meaty pussy lips. You bite your knuckles in order to keep your voice down, but she glares up at you. "Do that again n'I swear to god I'm stopping" she growls.
You're not used to this side of her at all, but her voice makes your hole leak a small stream from deep inside. She feels it's wetness on her tongue, eyes closing in ecstasy as she audibly suckles your sweet, tangy, heavenly juices from the now sheer fabric. Her own spit runs down her chin, she doesn't even bother to wipe it off. All you can hear are your breathy, whiney moans, tiny begs of "take 'em off, please", regarding your panties, and Ellie's throaty groans. You're so wet from your own juices and her saliva it nearly gets uncomfortable, but then again you're so goddamn close to cumming.
You try taking matters to your own hands, attempting to peel off your panties from your waist with a shaky hand but she snarls and slaps your wrist away.
"Nuh uh, pussy's fuckin' mine, don't touch it"
With relentless sucking on your drenched clit, and soiled panties, she opens her eyes to merely glare at you again with a warning look. "When you're close, you let me know" she bites.
You don't respond.
A stinging slap meets your pussy, which makes your thighs shake, whole body jolt, and throat ache with a high pitched yelp.
"You're not listening" Ellie warns.
"You listen when I talk" she warns again. Her tongue meets your clit and it pushes it further and further up. You shake, eyesight gone blurry, you're close, you know it by the way the coil down your stomach threatens to snap, and by the way it tickles down there so damn bad.
"M'close" you brokenly wail.
She grunts deeply and stops completely. your heart nearly breaks, no no no no no. "Ellie, Ellie, Els, no!" You try and buck your hips forward but she holds you in place with an iron like grip. You buck them again and she peels off the fabric of your underwear, slightly rising up as she stares inside at the mess she made of you. There's a devilish smirk that creeps up from her lips, apple of one cheek rising. You let out a sigh of relief, thinking that perhaps she'll actually fucking eat you out properly instead of letting you suffer inside a warm, wet material of a mess that truly doesn't look like something wearable anymore. Instead, she audibly spits inside with a "Ptu'", letting the band snap shut. Her saliva mixes with your warm sleek. You're so confused she nearly feels bad, but she's such a cunt that she really doesn't.
"Were going back inside," she murmurs so casually as if she didn't just fuck you up in the middle of the street, as if her chin isn't shiny with your precum. "N'if Michael puts his hand on you again, I'm eating it in front of him"
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corkinavoid · 3 months
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DPxDC Multiverse Police
I've seen the idea that GIW is actually SCP foundation somewhere, and lately, I've been thinking a lot about Fenton Happy Ending, so I bring you this. Behold, GIW/SCP, Team Phantom, and Fentons are working all together, and the whole wide multiverse fears them.
So, a giant green Lazarus Pit that looks more like a vortex than an actual Pit randomly opens in, say, Ohio. Because I heard a lot of weird shit happens in Ohio. The world is worried, JL gets sent there, but they are not exactly sure of what to do with it. Nothing comes out of it, and, well, no one is volunteering to just jump inside it - Batman made everyone read his files on Lazarus Waters, and they are reasonably wary.
But then a thing appears literally out of thin air on top of it. It looks like a spaceship, kind of, but more sci-fi than what real spaceships look like. And before anyone says anything, a large green - Lazarus green - dome appears, effectively covering both the ship and the Pit and cutting the heroes off.
The heroes are Confused (tm). And worried. And no one has an idea of what the fuck is going on, for all they know it could be some kind of yet another alien invasion.
Then, two figures on the hoverboards - one read and one teal - come out of the ship, flying over the Pit. They are followed by drones, and they all look like they are... scanning the Pit? A few more people, wearing black visors and shiny white suits that look like they are packed with all kinds of tech, slide down on the ropes straight inside the Pit. It sure looks like they are very familiar with it and have a good idea of what they are doing, working as a team.
One of the figures on the hoverboard, the one in a teal suit, notices the heroes on the other side of the green dome. She - because both of them look feminine enough - slows down and flies down to the ground, landing in front of Superman and taking off her helmet. It reveals a rather young, no older than twenty years old girl with fiery red hair tied in a bun, with eyes the same color as her suit. She smiles at them.
"Hi, you must be the Justice League?" She asks politely, and as Superman gives her a nod just out of surprise at her friendly attitude, she touches her ear, "Mom, this is DC sector universe. Pretty sure it's not a dimension we've been before, though." She turns back to Superman, "You don't recognize any of this, do you?"
Batman intervenes before Supes has the time to answer, "Who are you?"
The girl nods and taps her ear again, "Yeah, they definitely don't know us. So mark it as either an unfamiliar dimension or an unfamiliar timeline." Then she turns to Batman and smiles.
"You can call us interdimensional police. And since all the Batmans we ever encountered never believed us, I'm going to send you a copy of the files your other versions complied all together, so you can read and add more if you feel like it."
She touches her wrist computer, and, a few moments later, Batman's comm comes online with Oracle's voice:
"B, I'm getting a shit ton of files on... Multiverse Law Enforcement?.. out of nowhere. What's going on?"
Now, JL is baffled. Some of them - Flashes and Bats, for example - knew there was a whole wide multiverse going on, but to learn the multiverse has police? That's new.
Meanwhile, the redhead continues:
"The green thing behind me is a natural portal to the Infinite Realms, the dimension between dimensions. Which is really not what is supposed to be happening, so we are in the process of fixing it. It will take from ten minutes to a few hours, depending on what's on the other side, but the portal will be gone soon, and then I'll have to ask you some questions."
"Questions about what?" Asks Flash, and the girl waves her hand in the air.
"Oh, well, about the portals? If one so big is opening up, it means a few smaller ones had to exist in this dimension already. Our tech is not picking them up if they are smaller than a certain size, but you must have seen them before. I believe in the DC sector, you call them Lazarus Pits? We can take care of them later, too."
The second hoverboarder flies closer to them and revs her engine.
"Jazz, talk to them later, Tucker and Agents are done. Fentons are about to get Dannies down, so you need to either come up or leave the shield."
The girl - Jazz - looks surprised.
"Dan, too?"
"Yeah, it's the Toothy Jungle on the other side. They wanted to ask Ember, but, eh, what's her guitar gonna do to plants, even if they are sentient?" The red hoverboarder shrugs, and Jazz tilts her head, looking back to the heroes.
"I think I'll stay with them. You know it gets violent when Dan goes down, so people get antsy about us. I don't want to give the wrong impression."
The other girl huffs, but doesn't argue.
"Okay. Get out of the shield, then, and for Ancients sake, keep your comm open. Danny has an aneurysm every time you turn it off." With that, she flies away, back to the ship, and Jazz taps her hoverboard so it folds down into a hexagon shape no bigger than a backpack. Then, she steps through the shield, joining the JL on the other side of it.
"Are you not scared we might take you hostage?" Asks Wonder Woman just out of curiosity, and Jazz smiles pleasantly at her.
"Don't judge a girl by her looks. I don't want to brag, but I did fist fight Superman once and won."
----------
So basically, after Amity Park got sucked into Infinite Realms, the whole town just kind of collectively decided they like it there. And somehow they reached a happily ever after with both Danny's reveal to his parents and GIW, and then Clockwork showed up and was like, you guys want human food supply, running water and electricity, right? Well, I can do that, and so much more, you can be the ultimate perfect town. And for the price? You gonna go on adventures from time to time and fix the multiverse when shit hits the fan in various dimensions and universes. Doesn't that sound like fun?
And Amity Park, who's seen so much weird stuff over the years that it greatly affected their idea of common sense, goes yeah, that does sound fun! Let's go, people!
So here they are, appearing in different universes and doing damage control. They are, like, the superheroes for superheroes.
I'm probably going to write a part 2 to it, I want to show off Danny and Dan and Dani too. Halfas on the loose, JL is mildly concerned and kind of scared, and Jazz is just like yeah, that's just another regular Tuesday :)
I love Jazz being a badass, yes. Also, if you didn't get it, the other one on the hoverboard is Val, the drones are controlled by Tucker, and the people on the ropes are GIW agents.
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rowarn · 1 year
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hear me out....
afab!reader, no prns, simon is smitten <3, cunnilingus, wet&messy, creampie !!!
; in which simon cucks some poor guy for flirting with u <3
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going out with simon to a bar one night. simon thought u looked so precious dressed up just for him. he's got that "wear what you want, i can fight" mentality as he should.
some random guy slides up to your table with a cheesy smile and a bravery that surprised even simon. he was sitting right there and the guy didn't bat an eye. that was unusual — simon was a big guy with an intimidating stare to go along with it.
and you - a little too polite and sweet to tell the guy flat out to fuck off, gives simon an apologetic little look.
and fuck, simon thinks, you're so precious. you really melt his heart.
the guy makes some corny joke about a threesome, condescension dripping from his voice as he really thinks you would choose him over simon. the bloke really believed you would go home with him.
simon finally interjects from where he has been nursing his whiskey and just watching — making very sure the guy didn't cross any lines beyond making a fool of himself in front of you.
"sure why not?" he says, concealing a grin when the guy turns to gawk at him, asking if he was serious.
and that's how you wind up in a hotel — simon would never allow some random asshole into your shared home.
the second you all stepped in, simon pulled up a chair and directed the guy to sit while simon "got you ready". the guy was thrilled, it tickled simon something fierce.
and you, still so sweet for him, cling onto and pepper kisses on simon's face the second he's within your reach. he adores it. adores you.
simon gives the poor idiot a show, pinning your knees to your chest and letting him marvel at how fucking pretty you are; pussy shiny with a sheen of your arousal. he bets the guy thinks it's all for him but no. you only get so wet and needy for simon.
simon eats you out like a champ — urged even more than usual by new eyes watching. simon has a point to prove.
you're whining and moaning, twitching in the cute way you do when simon rolls his tongue over the hardened bud of your clit and fuck, he's drooling. literally. it mixes with your juices and makes you even wetter and messier and he loves it.
he makes you cum on his tongue alone. hard. you gasp and sob, legs sweetly kicking out as he feels you throb on his tongue. usually he adds some fingers into the mix to prep you but not today. he wants you to feel the full stretch of him this time.
he thinks he hears the guy make some comment about how lovely you are and how he can't wait to have a turn with you.
'in your dreams maybe' simon thinks bitterly. he can't believe the guy thinks he can compare to him. simon knows for a fact the dude wouldn't even be able to make you cum — simons taken the time to learn your body, learn what you like and what you need before you even say it. simon has devoted himself to you and no one could ever compete with that.
simon turns you over and manhandles you into position on your knees, gently pressing down on your back so you lean down onto your chest. you're still trembling and twitching occasionally from the orgasm he can still taste on his tongue. he thinks it's adorable.
the guy pipes up, complaining and asking when he's gonna get a turn because his cocks so hard it hurts.
simon decided it's as good a time as any to break the news to him — you're not gettin' a turn mate. just enjoy the show, yeah?
the guy starts whining and complaining as simon slowly and carefully sinks into you. you're so wet and tight around him that he feels the breath punch out of his lungs.
his hand is careful as it wraps around the back of your neck, using the grip as leverage as he begins to rock into you. you're still getting used to being full of him — he hadn't prepped you properly so he knows it stings a bit.
you still sweetly coo and whimper as he moves slowly and carefully. before long you're grinding back against him, a silent request for more. and he's more than happy to provide.
soon enough he's fucking you like you deserve. you're crying out into the bed and creaming real nice around the base of him. you have the blankets wrapped tight in your firsts and you're so loud about how good he's making you feel.
simon chances a glance at the idiot in the room and see how intensely he's staring at you, mouth slightly agape and eyes lidded.
simon nearly puffs up in pride — you're his and he's fucking you so well for his audience.
he picks up the pace, the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your tender clit is intoxicating. your body trembles and twitches at the onslaught of stimulation. you cry out his name, praise him for making you feel so good.
simons grip changes to the front of your neck, carefully urging you up onto your knees with your back to his chest. he feels you clench around him when you're reminded of how fucking big he is compared to you — broad shoulders and huge hands that dwarf your own. he's built and firm against you, sturdy and safe.
in this new position, he can freely grope your bouncing tits as he resumes fucking you. he make sure to angle his hips to hit that sweet little spot inside you that makes your back bow against him and your eyes roll back in your head.
"look at me, love," he orders when you close your eyes.
when you do as he tells you, your eyes are teary and dazed — a testament to how well he's fucking you. how well he always fucks you.
you desperately reach for one of his hands, dragging it down your body to the apex of your thighs. simon wastes no time in pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit. your thighs twitch the second he starts circling the little bud, his fingers getting wet with your juices.
he can't resist craning his neck down to press his lips against yours. simon isn't big on kissing — he finds it to be almost too intimate. it's different from sex. it makes him feel a little too vulnerable for comfort. but in that moment he craves it. he needs to kiss you.
you give no warning when you cum. your nails bite into his arm but he barely feels it over the right vice grip your cunt has around his cock. you tremble and whine into his mouth, unwilling to break the kiss he had bestowed upon you.
you drench his cock, creaming and soaking him in your cum. it drops down his balls and your thighs and drives him to his own end.
"where do you want it?" he asks, although he knows the answer.
he just want s your guest to hear you say it. he wants him to hear how you beg to be filled with cum, how you whine to be stuffed nice and full.
"i-inside!" you gasp so sweetly for him that it melts his cold heart, "please, simon. want it inside!"
simon's head drops to your shoulder, burying his face in your neck as he gives you a few more mind-numbing thrusts into your still twitching pussy before he groans through gritted teeth and spills into you just like you wanted.
he pulls out quicker than he usually does just to watch his load drip out and soil your thighs that were covered in your own cum.
simon catches you when you slump, carefully lowering you onto the bed while you catch your breath.
the guy is still sitting there. they meet gazes and simon jerks his head to the side, indicating towards the door.
the guy huffs and stalks away, blue balled and unsatisfied but clearly he enjoyed the show if the bulge in his jeans was any indication.
simon can only hope he got his message across. <3
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empty-movement · 10 months
Text
Chiho Saito’s 1999 Revolutionary Girl Utena Original Illustration Collection
IT’S HERE. IT’S DONE. IT’S FINISHED. NOW…IT’S YOURS. Happy Holidays, my friends.
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Vanna here! I have posted some already about this project, and the responses I got, public and otherwise, have been absolutely incredible. Y’all have been reblogging and hyping this before it even finished…I haven’t felt so encouraged about an Utena project since the musicals! (Yes, streams soon, I promise.) You can read the other post to get more details, and catch my post here with more details about the process if you’re interested. The long and short of it?
This is the first artbook I ever scanned. I did it in 2001. In Photoshop, using multiple scans per page that took hours to process. But it was 2001. A half megabyte file that was 1250px wide was considered extremely hardcore and impressive. That’s just always been the business I’m in when it comes to Utena art, you know? 
It’s now the latest artbook I’ve scanned, and so much of the process, and effort involved, is unchanged. What has changed, is the result. Welcome to your new desktop background. Your new phone background. Your new poster print. 
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What I’ve done here is attempt to create definitive digitized images of Chiho Saito’s work as offered by this book--I have removed the print moiré of the original scans, and used my literal decades of experience to try and tease out as much information from them as possible. Without being physically in front of the original artwork (which is a thing I’ve had the great fortune to get to do) this is The Most Chiho Saito you are ever going to get. I’ve tried my best to make sure there is a way to get it that works for everyone:
Do you just wanna scope 'em out? Look at some disaster gays? Grab your favorite one or two? This is the path for you! Check out the ‘compressed’ (not very) 10k ‘web friendly’ (not really) copy at the Bibliothèque, the media archiving wing of the Something Eternal forums at Empty Movement*. All the following links are also available from here. Do you want these copies? All of them? Don't just grab them individually, friend. This batch is 375MB and can be downloaded as a zip of the individual files here on our Google Drive.
Do you like digital archiving? Are you looking for a copy that preserves the archival quality of the effort but sits nice and comfy in a single file? This is for you. A minimally compressed 10k, 513MB version worked into a PDF is now up, shiny and chrome, on the Internet Archive. Do you like the idea of the minimal compression, but want the individual files in a zip? Yep I did that too, here's the drive link.
Are you looking to print these in a larger size? This is probably the only reason on Earth you’d ever want them, and yet a bunch of you are going to go straight for these. Here are the zero-compression JPG full size copies, most of them are 15k across, like simply a ridiculous size. Pick your fave and download it from our Google Drive! 
I am genuinely really proud of this work.** I was able to tease out so much new detail from these…her incredible layering techniques, the faintest brush of her highlights, and the full range of her delicate hand at whites and blacks… details commonly lost in digitization. I sincerely hope you find something here that you’re looking for, as an artist looking for inspiration, as a weeb looking for a desktop, as an archiver excited to see incredible 90s manga artwork saved forever in the digital realm. I feel like I have already said so much about them, and could keep going, but you know what? This work speaks for itself. Enjoy, use, explore, and definitely tell us what you think!
We love y’all. ~ Vanna & Yasha
* AHEM ASTERISK AHEM
You might be wondering what any of that is. Something Eternal? Biblewhatawhat??? EmptyMovement.com? You might even have done a double take at the word ‘forum.’ And you should!!!
I have a confession. This artbook was my ‘side project’ as I worked on this, *the main project.* For a couple years I’ve been banging around with a new domain, and originally I had other plans for it, but Elon Musk ruined my Twitter and Discord is well along on its way to enshittification, and well….we joke on the Discord a lot about ‘reject modernity, embrace forums’ and you know what? We’re right. So Yasha and I are putting our money where our mouths are once again, and doing something insane. We are launching, in 2023, a website forum. Obviously, this is not the official ‘launch’ per se, but I cannot announce the artbook without directing you to the forum, since it sits on the attached very cool gallery system. Oops! Told on myself. Another post more focused on the forum will be forthcoming, but if you are just that motivated to get in right away, you absolutely can! (This will help stagger new arrivals anyway, which is good for us!) If you would rather wait for the ‘official’ launch, by all means that’s coming, including a lengthy screed about how and why we’re doing this. In either case, remember: this is a couple weebs trying to make internet magic happen, we are not website developers by trade. Give us grace as we iron things out and grow into this cool new website thingie…hopefully along with some of you! :D
If you do join up, naturally, there is a thread about this project!
** If you like this kind of content, consider helping us pay for it! We do have a Patreon! If you’re wanting to use these in some public-facing distributive way, all we ask is for credit back to Empty Movement (ohtori.nu or emptymovement.com, either will work.) 
I would like to say ‘don’t just slap these files on RedBubble to get easy money’ but I know that saying this won’t effectively prevent it. Y’all that do that suck, but you’re not worth letting it rain on the rest of this parade. :)
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dollfacefantasy · 7 months
Note
neglect kink with older leon???!!?!? like… you’re super horny whining and begging for his attention and he’s just. completely ignoring you. maybe he eventually lets you cockwarm him but he’s still ignoring you… the only way you know he’s enjoying this is because he’s still hard… no sounds or nothing. you’re so desperate for ANYTHING a kiss, a touch, literally any words at all but he’s just focused on his work!!! maybe daddy kink because everything needs daddy kink… maybe, like, you did something bad so this is your punishment… i don’t know… maybe he gives you the attention eventually or not!!!!
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: you've been bad, but you never seem to learn from spankings. leon has to try something new to remind you why you should be a good girl.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, cockwarming, masturbation, overstimulation, daddy kink, praise/degradation, age difference, dom/sub stuff (rules, punishment, etc.)
word count: 6.2k
a/n: you're so right, everything does need daddy kink <3 thank you for the request, love. i hope it's what you were wanting. i imagine post-DI leon for this so he's a bit older, but i just used DI for the pic. anyhow, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3
tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi
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Your deep breaths and soft whimpers had overtaken the quiet murmur of the tv in your bedroom. An old movie played on it, one you had seen time and time again. It no longer had your attention. Instead, you’re focusing on playing with the pulsing bud between your legs. Your fingers thrum back and forth over the sensitive spot, hips pushing down against the mattress as sparks fly in your belly.
Technically, you weren’t supposed to be doing this. It was one of the rules you agreed to when Leon had approached you with some things he wanted to try out for your sex life, just a small set of guidelines to play with. ‘No touching yourself without daddy’s permission' had been listed among others. He counted each one on his fingers as he did, and you nodded your head and looked up at him with your sweet set of eyes. The same set that now flutters with ecstasy as you played your forbidden game. But as long as he didn’t know, it was fine, right?
Your heels dig into the blankets beneath you while your breasts rise and sink with each inhale and exhale. You feel that hot sensation between your legs, the tightening cord, the boiling pleasure. You’re about to let it loose until you hear the front door open and shut, keys clatter on the table, and the familiar grunt Leon does when he slips his shoes off, using the tip of one on the heel of the other.
You nearly miss these little cues because of the rain clashing against your windows, but in a stroke of luck, you catch it all and tear your hand out of your shorts at light speed. Leon’s just walking into the bedroom as you drape the blanket over yourself. Shifting around a little to get comfy, you then gaze up at him, putting some tenderness into your eyes in hopes of throwing him off your scent.
As he gets closer, you take in his appearance. Little droplets of water on the shoulders of his jacket from the rain outside. Shiny hair fresh from the shower he took this morning, shaggy bangs hanging down into his face. Tired glaze over his eyes, work must not have been a walk in the park. 
Once he approaches you, he raises his eyebrows, and for a second, you’re sure you’ve been found out. But all he does is sit next to you on the edge of the bed and run a hand over your head. His eyes fixate on you as if he’s studying your features. Your heart pounds, waiting to hear the words belt, over my knee, or sore & stinging leave his lips, but they don’t.
“Been having a nice day, baby?” he asks you, petting your head a few more times.
“Mhm,” you respond. Innocent enough.
“That’s good. What have you been doing?” he asks. Oh fuck.
“Um, just watching a movie,” you answer.
“Yeah? That all?” he continues. Fuck fuck fuck.
“Pretty much. It’s all rainy out. Don’t really feel like getting out of bed,” you say with a casual shrug.
He nods. It seems like an approving gesture, but you could swear there’s a little knowing glint in his eyes. Maybe that’s just your imagination. Hopefully, that’s just your imagination.
“Alright. I gotta go finish up some work for a while, just wanted to check on you first. Keep being a good girl for me,” he tells you. He gives you a small pat on the ass before getting up and walking out of the room as quickly as he had entered.
Your body relaxes, and your pulse descends to normal levels. Maybe you did pull it off. Heist of the century in your book. You settle in to truly just pay attention to the tv for now, but it’s not as simple as it should be when you’re still so pent up. You’d just breached the threshold of release, before you were torn out and back to reality. You could feel the slick that had gathered between your legs, the ache in your clit calling out to your fingers.
The thought of continuing does cross your mind. It would be so easy. Without any suspicion on you, all you would have to do is clamp a hand over your mouth and rub slower so the bed didn't creak. Plus, when he went in his office, he usually worked until the evening anyway. You could cum and be done with it before he had the slightest idea.
No, no, no. You told him you’d be a good girl. You wouldn’t wanna break daddy’s heart by being bad, right? No, you wanted to make him proud. You resign to wait until he wants to play with you. He always did; you can’t recall a night he left you wanting. So you lay on your side, eyes focused on the blue-tinted screen across the room, and keep it together.
But hours go by. And then more hours go by. You keep yourself occupied, marathoning nearly an entire franchise of movies, eating, going on your phone. But none of it fills the Leon-shaped void inside you.
This was the longest he’d ever been in that office. He never worked in there into the night. He always told you that he tried to spend as little time in there as possible. That’s time that could be spent with his good girl, that’s what he told you. Only you hadn’t been a good girl today.
You shake your head, and tell the stupid little voice inside to zip it. He seemed tired, remember? This is probably just an extension of that. He knew he’d have to come home and be in his office all day. It was all a coincidence, this whole thing. There was literally no way he could know what you’d been doing. But daddy knows you better than you know yourself.
Oh god. This was like some form of torture, you’re sure of it. Self-inflicted, or was it really? He was the one who’d made you this way. Whatever. Enough was enough. There was no reason to be paranoid. You could literally just go ask him. Sort this out and soothe your anxiety, so you can go back to waiting patiently like the good girl that you are.
Pushing the covers to the side, you slide out of bed and head down the hall to his office as thunder crackles outside. A gentle push on one of the French doors leads you into the room you rarely entered. Despite that, you liked it in here. Leon’s desk faced away from the door, towards the window that looked out onto the street. The curtains were drawn now, brown fringe overlapping with the spare cushions on the window seat below it. Some bookshelves lined the walls perpendicular to his desk, though you never had the time to actually check their contents.
You walk a few paces into the room. Your eyes cast over to him. He doesn’t even look like he’s doing much for someone working into the night, but who are you to judge? You step over a crinkle in the rug to stand in front of his desk. Your hands rest on the hardwood as you gaze at him over the monitor of his computer.
“Hi,” you say simply.
He nods. A movement so vague that he could’ve told you his head twitched, and you’d believe him.
“Whatcha doing?” you ask.
“Work.”
You stare at him for a moment. Sure, he wasn’t normally super chatty, but he also wasn’t usually so clipped. He knows.
“How’s it going?” you say.
You’re met with a shrug. You have to up your efforts.
Circling around his desk, you position yourself behind him and wrap your arms over his shoulders. You drag your nose against his cheek like an affectionate kitten and kiss the skin a few times.
“How much longer you gonna be in here?” you ask. Your voice remains gentle and undemanding.
“A while,” he grunts. The clacking of the keyboards starts up again, and his eyes remain locked on the documents in front of him.
“But you’ve been in here for hours,” you point out and feign a pout.
“And I’ll be in here for even more if you keep bothering me,” he says with a little gesture that wasn’t fully shrugging you off but at the same time was shrugging you off.
Ouch. Your pout was no longer feigned. You stand up straight and walk back to where you stood originally. He still doesn’t spare you even the smallest of glances.
“Can I stay in here with you?” you ask hesitantly.
“If you want to,” he says. Wow. Not that he wanted you to, no. If you wanted to. Sure, people could call you sensitive for being upset about that, you don’t care. You’re tempted to leave with a huff, slamming the door behind you, but now you’re even more curious if he was aware of your illicit afternoon activities. You kinda hope he is at this point because at least that would give a reason for his icy attitude.
You walk over to the one other chair in the room. Yeah, there was the window seat, but as pretty as you’d made it for him, decorating it with little throw pillows and cute coverings, it wasn’t very comfortable. You plop down on the corduroy cushioning of the beaten-up seat in the corner. with a sigh. Bringing your legs up over the armrest, you lean back against the opposite one and scan the room out of boredom. Your feet swing back and forth absentmindedly as you puff breaths of disinterest from between your lips.
You really try to give him time to finish, but it feels like he’s taking actual eternity. Also, it sounds like he’s barely doing anything, and now you are going to judge because he’s cutting into your precious personal time with him. You stare at him for several minutes, keeping your eyes locked on his face. Unlike any normal person who’d get uncomfortable, he just continues “working.” Finally, you crack.
“How’s it going?” you ask.
No response.
“Are you almost done?” you try again.
Nothing.
Your eyes darken, your frown growing. “Leonnnnn,” you whine.
And still absolutely nothing. You have one more weapon in your arsenal. If this doesn’t work, you know you’ll just have to pack it up for the night.
“Daddy…” you whimper, using the softest voice you could manage, the one that always shot right through him. You jut your bottom lip out a bit more and put that pleading in your eyes. After this, all you have is literal tears, and you’re hoping it doesn’t go to that point.
Leon knows this, and he doesn’t want it to get that far either. He finally spins his chair in your direction. His eyes land on your face. He has to repress the smirk rising to his face over your neediness.
“Funny how that name seems to always slip out most when you want something,” he replies.
At least he wasn’t ignoring you anymore. “All I want is your attention…” you say, keeping up your sweet performance.
“Oh yeah?” he taunts, “Tell me, baby. Were you thinking of daddy today when you were home alone?”
Your eyes dart away from his face, but you force them back. You couldn’t blow this by being too obvious, so you respond with a simple nod.
“I thought so, princess. What else would have had you so riled up today when I came home? It wouldn’t be because you were breaking one of your rules, would it?” he asks. His tone was obviously leading. He knew. You were so desperate for him though that at this point you were starting to think a spanking wouldn’t be that bad. At least it was some form of physical contact to sate you.
“I wasn’t riled up earlier,” you say quietly with a little shrug.
He chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re not lying are you? Cause that’s another rule. Two broken rules in one day. That wounds me, babydoll,” he says.
“I’m not breaking any rules. I’m being honest,” you say.
“So you being all squirmy, hot skin, heavy breathing; that wasn’t you being riled up? Is daddy imagining things now? Do I not know what my girl looks like when she’s aching for me?” he asks, “What she looks like when she’s been trying to solve her little problem herself?”
Finally, he unveils his reasoning. You freeze and stare at him, trying to think of what to say. Even though you wanted attention, there was still that innate part of you that hated being in trouble. You’d much rather be perched on his lap to be loved on like the precious thing you were.
“I don’t know what you mean,” is your weak attempt at an excuse. He laughs and leans back in his chair, the old springs creaking with his motion.
“Did you put your fingers inside or just play with that pretty little clit?” he asks, eyes boring into you as he goes for the kill.
“Just my clit…” you mumble and look down.
Shaking his head again, he turns back to his computer. You watch him, expecting him to start in on you again. To lecture you about your impatience. Tease you about your borderline pathetic need for him. Take you over his knee and crack you on the ass while making you repeat each of your rules back to him.
But none of this happens. Instead, this man just goes back to straight up ignoring you. Your jaw drops and a confused whine comes from your throat. “Daddy, c’mon. I’m sorry,” you say.
He resumes typing, fingers gliding over the keys and eyes fixed on the little words appearing in front of him. You groan in frustration and sink back against the brown ribbed fabric of your chair. You glare at him from your place, trying to telepathically will him into entertaining you again. You must be lacking in mental communication though because he doesn’t change what he’s doing at all. One of your thighs crosses over the other, unintentionally giving your pussy a little friction.
That’s what made this all the more frustrating, you were still unsatisfied from earlier. You should’ve just made yourself cum like you wanted. You’d be in trouble either way. You could only hope he’d take it easy on you now for having chosen the former.
Different scenarios run through your head for how you want to play this. A spectrum of possibilities lies in front of you. On one end, you could just leave. Keep whatever dignity you had left, cut your losses, and go to bed. On the other, you could be over the top. Hop in his lap and smother him with a flurry of kisses before he could object. Either one would probably only earn you more punishment, so you try to think of a middle ground. A way to continue the game.
As you think, your right hand lazily runs up and down your chest. Your middle finger coasts over the area spanning from the valley between your breasts to your navel. Taking your lip between your teeth, you decide to start here. Your fingers move to your tits and round your nipples. The buds harden into small peaks beneath your shirt. You pinch and pull at them gently, and your cunt flutters in response to the teasing. You shift your hips up before shimmying your shorts off and letting them drop to the ground beside your chair.
You reposition yourself next to sit properly in the chair. Your heels come to rest on the plush cushion as you spread your legs and expose your damp panties to him. Not that he bothered to look.
Now your fingers moved down there. They pet your most sensitive area over the thin, wet cloth. Your breath hitches as your fingertips brush over your clit. You press down a little harder and make a soft breathy whine. His eyes flit in your direction, but they don’t linger. Take what you can get, you guess.
You slide your digits back down and massage your dripping entrance. The fabric becomes more wet as you rub it on your slick folds. Your middle and ring finger move in tandem to stoke the flames down there and to ensure the fabric is completely soaked. Once that mission is accomplished, you lift your hips for the second time to remove this garment. Only you don’t drop it to the floor. This time you toss them in his direction, landing them on his desk, lace half covering one of his wrists, half covering a section of his keyboard.
The sound of typing halts, putting the room into silence, spare the raindrops splatting against the window. His eyes remain stern and not on you. Without even looking down, he wads the panties up and shoves them in his pocket. The sound of typing resumes.
“Daddy,” you huff, “I got ‘em all wet just for you.”
He still doesn’t acknowledge you. You let out a growl of sorts and narrow your eyes at him. Your fingers slip through your arousal coating your center. You pay more attention to your clit now that it’s exposed.
“I just missed you so much today. I couldn’t help it,” you reason.
You whimper and squirm in your chair as you start rubbing faster. Your eyes are still locked on him, watching for the slightest crack in his resolve. So far there are none. You continue toying with yourself.
“I was thinking of you the whole time,” you whimper, “That should count for something. I was imagining your hands and your eyes looking down at me. I was pretending I could hear your voice.”
He remains unaffected. Your head tilts back against the plush cushioning as your hips rock in place. You mewl softly which soon turns into a long, drawn-out whine. Finally, he shifts in his seat a little, and you know right away it’s cause he’s starting to get hard.
“I just love you so much, daddy. Can’t control myself when you’re not around,” you say, further chipping away at the little dent in his stoic facade.
Your moans increase in volume as does the slippery sounds coming from your fingers moving through your slick. That feeling from this afternoon is starting to come back. Pleasure builds in your abdomen, one piece stacking on top of the other. You’re shaking more, voice getting less even with each little cry of joy. He finally turns to look at you when you start doing that thing you do when you’re about to cum, the ultra-specific puff of your chest that rolls through your abdomen to your hips. His eyes capture yours, unamused with your antics.
“If you cum right now, a spanking is the only kind of attention you’ll be getting until you learn some self-control,” he tells you.
In an instant, your fingers sputter to a stop. Your mind bounces back and forth on what to do like a metronome. But as always, your craving for Leon’s approval wins out over every other option. You remove your hand from between your legs and even sit up, closing your thighs. Maybe now, he’ll see you’re being good and cut you some slack.
Yeah, right.
He goes back to his computer. Again. You’re about to lose your mind or explode, you aren’t sure which will come first. Standing from the chair, you start walking to his desk. He still didn’t look at you! How rude, you’d think that the touching yourself rule was his favorite or something even though you knew it wasn’t. That title belonged to the rule that let him pick your outfit whenever the two of you went out.
A few paces in his direction, and you’re back right where you started. Arms looped over his shoulders, nuzzling your face against his cheek, and kissing the side of his head. “I said I’m sorry daddy,” you say softly, “I’m really really really really sorry. I know I was a bad girl, but only for that.”
He grunts and scoots closer to his desk, away from your embrace. A noise of exasperation leaves you, and without thinking, you roll the chair back a couple inches and embrace him again, only tighter. A grin rises on your face when you see the bulge that had formed in his lap.
“Pretty please? I’ll take whatever punishment. I don’t want daddy to be mad at me anymore,” you plead and give him some more pecks on the cheek. You knew you probably looked ridiculous, pantless and visibly horny, but that wasn’t a true concern at this moment in time.
“Go to bed,” he states simply, “I’ll deal with you later.”
That wasn’t good enough. You wanted him now.
“Daddy,” you whine, stretching out the last syllable. You lower yourself to your knees and slink down in front of his chair. “C’mon, I said it like a million billion trillion times. Can’t we just kiss and make up?”
He stares down at you, not impressed with your show of submission. He was playing harder than usual. He knew that wouldn’t deter you though. You squish your cheek against his thighs as your hands creep up his legs.
“Do I have to make a special apology?” you ask, looking up at him with puppy eyes.
He pushes your hands away as they reach his thighs. “Quit it,” he growls, “Let me finish my work and maybe we can work something out.”
But you don’t quit it. You move yourself closer to one of his legs, preparing to put on a little show for him if need be. Your eyes don’t quit and neither does the pleading expression on your mouth.
“But I need my daddy now,” you huff, “I-”
And that’s it. You’re cut off by Leon reaching down and yanking you into his lap.
“Such a fuckin’ brat,” he grunts, “Ready to hump my leg like a bitch in heat cause I don’t give you attention for a couple hours.”
You squirm a bit as his hands rub up and down your sides and squeeze your hips. He stills you with a firm slap to your ass. Both of your eyes gaze into the others, the small spheres swirling with arousal, annoyance, and adoration.
“I just missed you. I would’ve left you alone if you weren’t so mean to me,” you point out.
“Who says I have to be nice to you? You don’t get to decide when you wanna listen based on that,” he says and pulls you to his chest. You lean in against the muscular expanse while his hand snakes between the two of you to get at his button and zipper. “Your job is being a good girl. Not just when you feel like it. Not only when daddy’s giving you kisses and calling you pretty. The only time you stop is when I say, and that didn’t happen today did it? Am I imagining things again?”
“No,” you agree reluctantly, “But I-”
“Cut your yapping out. I’ve heard enough. Give me some quiet or I’ll put those panties to good use,” he threatens.
As your lips fall shut, you hear the tug of his zipper and feel him shift as he takes himself out. Now you’re really quiet, more from anticipation than obedience.
“Now I’m gonna let you sit on my cock, but that’s it. No squirming, no ‘getting comfy,’ no whining, no ‘but daddy.’ You act up too much, and I’m truly sending your ass to bed for the night.”
You look up at him and nod, not even speaking because you didn’t want to cut your chances at dick off before they started.
“Good,” he says.
One of his hands helps elevate you so that he can position his length underneath you. The tip slips through your folds, already soaked from your prior escapades. He doesn’t tease too much, wasn’t interested in hearing you beg right now. He’d heard enough of that for tonight. He pushes you down onto it. His mouth twitches, and he sucks in a deep breath as he feels the warmth of your walls engulf his cock.
You slide all the way down with ease. Looking back at his face again, you feel the insatiable urge to give him a little kiss. If you did that though, would that be one of the things you aren’t supposed to be doing?
“Daddy… can I have a little kiss first?” you ask.
He merely shoots you a look that tells you don’t push it.
With a final look of defeat, you nestle yourself against his chest, head on his shoulder so you can look up at his face. He was so focused. If you didn’t know you were here, you never would suspect he’d be up to this level of multitasking.
You let out a sigh. It was nice being full, but you still yearned for more. You were really trying to be good though, so there wasn’t much for you to do. Minutes tick by as you try in earnest to think of a potential solution. To make matters worse, at a certain point, after you’d been on his dick for a while, his hand starts roaming your back. A soothing touch that made your walls flutter around him. He knew it would too, you could tell from that little smirk on his face.
Trying to focus on the positives, you mentally study every feature of his cock that you can feel. It’s so deep, he’s resting right against the spot that could drive you wild when properly battered. It pulsed rhythmically, twitching slightly when your muscles would contract or release around his shaft.
You’re actually doing better than expected, letting your mind wander. But then, he’s the one to move a bit under the guise of necessary readjustment. The whimper that falls from your lips is inevitable. He shushes you, and you mutter an apology, but that simple movement was enough to reignite the fire in your belly.
You bite your lip, the neediness in your eyes intensifying. “Daddy?” you whisper, testing the waters.
Nothing.
So he had gone back to this? Not if you could help it. You don’t bother speaking again. Instead, you move the tiniest bit, rolling your hips as you act like you’re shifting to alleviate a cramp. To your shock, he doesn’t say anything, just shifts his hips a bit in return.
You glance up hopefully. Maybe he was going to ease up, but he just didn’t want to verbally admit it. You move a little more, but this time, you’re a bit too zealous in your attempt. His hands grab your hips and dig into your flesh, keeping you in place.
You’re so pent up and frustrated. Your forehead thuds back onto his shoulder. “Ple-”
“What did I say?” he asks.
“But da-”
“What did I say?” he asks again and tightens his grip.
“I just wanna cum,” you whimper, “It hurts, been achy all day.”
“Oh it hurts, does it?” he mocks. He jerks your hips to give you some fleeting friction while maintaining his control. “What is it about today that’s making it so hard for you to listen?”
“I-” you start to defend yourself out of instinct but can’t actually come up with anything. “I don’t know.”
“That’s right you don’t. So quit acting like you do. You think with that slutty little pussy, and then act like you don’t need daddy to make the decisions. It’s a little disappointing, babydoll,” he scolds.
Your eyes flicker with every stage of grief as he says this. That’s literally the worst thing he could say. He could call you any name in the book and you’d brush it off with an eyeroll or a “hmph.” But disappointing? That was evil. That word could worm its way into your heart and weigh on you for days.
“I’m sorry,” you say quickly in a desperate attempt to remedy, “I just… I’m so pent up. Can’t think with my head when my pussy keeps distracting me.”
“Oh, poor baby,” he mocks with a chuckle and a shake of his head.
“That’s why I have to cum,” you plead, “I need it. It’s not even the same when I do it. I should’ve just waited. I’m sorry.”
“You need it?” he repeats, “So fuckin’ spoiled. I give you some dick even when you don’t deserve it, and it’s still not enough. I gotta train some gratitude into you next.”
“You’re the one who spoils me,” you pout.
“Oh, so it’s all my fault? So you’re saying I shouldn’t be so easy on you, huh?” he challenges.
You shake your head as fast as humanly possible, now set on backtracking your fuck up. But it was too late. “No, I was just sayi-” you start before he cuts you off yet again.
“And just when I was about to start fucking you too? That’s a damn shame,” he says.
Your eyes widen, and you shake your head more. This had gone from a slight improvement to a downward spiral.
“I mean, why would I bother now? All you care about is getting to cum. Don’t care about all the work daddy puts in to make you feel good the entire time,” he taunts, “If that’s the case, then go ahead. Cum. Take what you want, but don’t you dare move those hips.”
Your look of anguish evolves into that of confusion. You don’t really want to question him right now, but you’re unsure of how you’re supposed to follow that command. “I can’t…” you say softly.
“Why not?” he asks.
“Not enough,” you answer.
“Then make it enough,” he growls, “You were having so much fun today with those fingers. They don’t work anymore?”
Oh. Your face feels hot as the realization dawns on you. You shyly bring your hand to your center and awkwardly fumble with your clit. You look at him, silently begging to ride him.
“You can do better than that,” he responds, “You were putting on such a show earlier, so don’t act like you need my help all the sudden.”
Shamefully, your fingers pick up some speed. You whimper as the pads of your digits rub over a sensitive spot. The whole time he’s still inside you. It felt kind of weird, but still good. You weren’t going to complain. Your upper body twitches a bit, but he holds you straight up, making sure you're looking at him while you work.
“That’s it. How’s it feeling, baby? Is it as good as when daddy does it?” he taunts.
“No…” you whimper, “It’s ok.”
“Aw, well, it’s gonna have to be good enough for now because it’s the only way you’re cumming.”
You groan and whine at the statement. It was the truth, but that didn’t mean you wanted to hear it. You start circling faster and flicking your hand with more urgency. Your head falls back at the sensations as a breathy moan floats from your lips. He squeezes your hips again as you tighten around his cock from the euphoria you brought yourself.
“Look at that. Think you’re gonna be able to cum all by yourself?” he teases.
You nod. Your hips rock involuntarily as the pleasure ramps up, but his grip keeps you stationary. Little gasps like the ones from earlier when you were in the chair escape you. Your fingers move almost like they’re automated.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Please can I finish?” you whimper, “Wanna cum so bad, daddy, please?”
“I already gave you permission, baby. Guess you really wanna show me how good you actually are,” he chuckles.
You can’t even say anything back before the switch flips inside you and release tears through you. Your back stiffens up and a strangled rope of moans come out of you. Your hips jerk harder than before, giving you brief brushes with the head of his cock. He sighs contentedly as you flutter around his cock and provide him with a muted sense of bliss.
You’re still riding it out when his hands are no longer just holding you, but rather, beginning to bounce you. You feel it in your cunt before your brain even catches up with the general motion of your body. It’s because you’re still so sensitive. The tingly stab pulling a quiet shriek from you.
“Daddy, gimme a break,” you whine.
“What? Daddy doesn’t deserve to finish too? Is that what you think? You just get to have your fun, and leave me to deal with it. That’s not how it works, princess,” he says.
“I’m not- I didn’t… I just can’t… it’s too much,” you struggle to get out between the whimpers coming from you. He keeps bouncing you, groaning as that hushed ecstasy blossoms into an encompassing euphoria. The noises of him sliding in and out are nearly louder than all the whining and moaning you’re doing.
“You can take it,” he grunts, “I’ll say when you’ve had enough.”
You cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain as his hips start to meet your hips guided by his hands. A deep groan rumbles in his chest as your cunt’s constant contracting massages his length. After a while, it feels like you’re almost numb down there. The fire still rages in your belly, but your actual pussy has been beaten into submission by your boyfriend’s cock. He watches your face as he moves you, relishing the way your eyes are getting glossy with a cocktail of tears, both of overstimulation and relief.
“So pretty for me, sweetheart. Gonna be even prettier when you cum again all over my dick and milk me dry,” he grunts.
“Uh huh,” you moan without thinking, head wildly falling back and forth in what’s supposed to be a nod.
Soon enough, his chest and belly are tightening up. He knows the end is near and pistons into your cunt extra hard for the finale. You wail and grip his biceps for support as you explode. You didn’t ask to cum this time, but being so close to his own release, he couldn’t really find it to care.
He keeps going through your orgasm, practically making you sob in pleasure. You feel impossibly tight, warm, and wet. And when he sees how your precious face is getting tight too, scrunching up as you reach the peak of the peak, he can’t hold it off.
His fingers dig into your hips so hard that you feel like the future bruises are already there. Your eyes are rolled back in advance as he fires his cum deep inside you. A goofy smile graces his features as he pumps it in, enjoying the waves of pleasure that wash over him throughout. And the whole time you’re pulsing away through your own release. 
You look even dumber than he does, silly smile not just on your lips, but visible in your eyes too. You’re whimpering, extra whiny and a higher pitch. He rubs your skin to remind you he’s right there. He can see your head coming back to reality as the whirlpool of ecstasy subsides.
“Oh that’s it, there’s my good girl,” he coos as you finally reach the end of the high. His hand rubs your back in long, even strokes. “So proud of you, sunshine.”
A dreamy, self-satisfied grin comes across your face. His words were the best drugs while you were in this state, and the tone of his voice only made them that much more addictive.
“Such a good girl,” he repeats, “Now how ‘bout you give daddy a kiss.”
Eagerly you boost yourself towards his lips to connect in a hazy smooch. You’re a bit sloppy with it, but he expected that and found it cute. Of course you were dizzy. He just fucked you stupid. Once you pull away, he strokes your hair and smiles at your blissed out face.
“Aw, cutie. Looks like it’s time for you to head to bed,” he says as his fingers move to rub your cheek.
“You too. I wanna cuddle,” you say, locking your arms around him.
“Mhm, I’ll be right behind you. I gotta finish up the last of this. Now that I don’t have you distracting me, it should only take about fifteen minutes,” he teases.
“That’s like a million years, and I already had to wait all day,” you sigh dramatically.
“Then I’m sure you can handle a few more minutes,” he says and rubs his nose against yours, “Don’t start getting mouthy with me, little love. I still have those panties I can easily turn into a gag.”
With a playful glare, you get up on wobbly legs to make your exit, dizzy smile still plastered on your face. You start to stumble to the door when he calls out to you.
“Wow princess, not even going to say good night to daddy? I expected better from my baby,” he chides teasingly.
You roll your eyes while smiling and return to him to smack one final big kiss on his lips. “Night daddy,” you say with a small giggle.
He smirks at your clear happiness. As you turn to leave, he swats your ass. “I’ll be right there. Bet you’ll already be passed out by the time I get there,” he says as his fingers start working the keyboard again.
“I’ll be dreaming of you though,” you tease before going out the doors and down the hall to your bed.
1K notes · View notes
pure-smut · 2 months
Text
helping out a friend.
Tumblr media
featuring: Kuroo Tetsuro x f!reader
contains: childhood friends to lovers, mutual m*sturbation, missionary, softdom!kuroo, watching p*rn
note: all characters are aged up to 18+!
word count: 2.4k
masterlist
MDNI | 18+ content
You’ve known Tetsuro Kuroo since you were practically babies. You found each other at nursery and you’ve been inseparable ever since. Even though you’re older now and went to different Universities, you video call nearly every day. You’ve managed to break out of your shell a bit and make some new friends at Uni but nothing beats seeing Tetsu’s face pop up on your phone. He just cheers you up.
“Hey, nerd,” Tesu greets you one day. You balance your phone against the stack of books on your desk so you can see each other while you study.
“Hey, loser,” you greet him back. He must be just out of the shower because he’s not wearing a shirt and his chest is slick and shiny. “You couldn’t make yourself decent?”
“What, you don’t like?” he says, grinning. You roll your eyes and ignore him.
If you’re being honest with yourself, there was maybe a time years and years and years ago where you had a bit of a thing for Tetsu. You’re super close, after all, and he’s good-looking so you figured it was normal. After it became apparent that he didn’t view you that way – he flirts with literally everyone – you buried it way down deep until it disappeared. So, yes, at one point a comment like that would have made you blush. Now it doesn’t even phase you.
“You still studying?” Tetsu continues, oblivious.
“Duh. My last exam is tomorrow.”
“And then you’ll be back home, right?”
“Yep! Flights are booked for Friday.” You smile, excited to see him in person again.
“We need to hang out asap. I’ve missed you, dude.”
“I’ve missed you too. But are you not seeing Clarissa on Friday?”
He winces.
“Uhhh… no. That’s… not really a thing anymore.”
“Oh.” You look up from your notebook. “I’m sorry, Tetsu. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, dude, don’t even worry about it. I’ve gotta go but good luck with your exam tomorrow.”
“Thanks, I’ll see you Friday!”
You hang up and shake your head. For some reason, Tetsu can never stick with a girlfriend. Clarissa had lasted the longest and you had actually really liked her. You start to wonder what went wrong before stopping yourself. No, you need to focus on the exam and then you can catch up with Tetsu this weekend. The corner of your mouth upticks in a smile at seeing him again.
*
The exam goes as well as it could and you have a couple of hours to yourself before you need to catch your flight. You text your FWB but he replies with a busy today, sorry x. You sigh and pick up your laptop.
You have a few bookmarked porn videos and, exhausted from the exam, you decide to click an old, familiar one rather than searching through a bunch of new ones. As it starts up, you lick your finger to get it slick and snake a hand down under your panties. By the time the guy in the video is getting started, you’re softly rubbing your clit, your gaze on the screen intense.
Just as you’re nearing your orgasm, your phone rings. You groan with frustration but, seeing Tetsu’s name, you pick up.
“What?” you snap.
“Whoa, hello to you, too,” Tetsu chuckles.
“I’m a bit busy.”
“Doing what?”
There’s an awkward pause and, to your horror, you realise you haven’t stopped the video. The sound of slapping flesh and moaning fills the air.
“Oh,” Tetsu says.
“I-I’ll call you later,” you stammer out and hang up immediately.
Mortified, all your earlier horniess evaporates and you lay back in your bed, your face in your hands. Your phone buzzes with a message from Tetsu but you can’t even bring yourself to look at it. Instead, you push it down before your humiliation overwhelms you and start getting ready for your flight.
*
You arrive in your hometown that evening, exhausted and irritable.
“Did your exam not go well, sweetie?” Mom asks, frowning and pushing back your hair from your face.
“No, it was okay,” you sigh. “I’ve just had a long day.”
And you’ve embarrassed yourself so much in front of Tetsu that you want the ground to swallow you whole, you think but keep that part to yourself.
“I’ve got some dinner in the fridge for you, d’you want me to warm it up?”
“Thanks, Mom, but it’s alright. I’m just going to hang out in my room tonight. Get an early night.”
She seems displeased but doesn’t argue, letting you wheel your suitcase up the stairs and into your room.
It always feels weird coming home to your old bedroom – most stuff you took with you to the University dorms so all that’s left are your childhood things that you don’t want to part with. Even the walls are bare now. They used to be covered with photos of Tetsu and you but you took those to Uni with you too.
You groan at the thought of him and how awkward he must have felt. He’d sent you a few more messages but you haven’t checked them in case they confirm your worst fears – that you’re gross and he doesn’t want to be friends anymore. The thought makes you well up so you pull out your laptop and put on some low-stakes sitcom and bury yourself under the duvet.
You’re deep into your wallowing when there’s a knock at the door.
“I don’t want dinner, Mom!” you call. “I already said!”
“Unfortunately, I’m not dinner but I am a snack,” Tetsu responds from the other side of the door. You snap up to sitting, nearly launching your laptop off the bed. “Can I come in?”
“Uh…” You desperately look around although you don’t know what you're even looking for. “Um, yes. Yeah, come in.”
Tetsu steps in with his hand covering his eyes and closes the door behind him.
“What are you doing?” You squint at him.
“Oh, just in case I’m interrupting you jerking off again.”
A burst of laughter explodes from your chest, despite your burning cheeks, and you throw your pillow at him.
“You’re a dick!” you say but you’re laughing. He takes his hand away from his eyes and grins.
“Didn’t you get any of my messages?”
You avert your eyes and don’t say anything. Tetsu crosses the space between you and sits down next to you on the bed. You hate how embarrassed you feel – Tetsu always puts you at ease and you automatically want to rest your head on his shoulder but it feels too awkward to do so now.
“Listen, don’t worry about it,” he says. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. So you were getting yourself off, so what? Everyone does it.”
“I know but…” You bury your face in your hands. Tetsu reaches across to ease your hands away and looks you in the eye.
“Seriously, don’t be embarrassed. Honestly? It was kind of hot.”
A million butterflies explode in your stomach and your heart sets off at a gallop.
“W-what?”
“Not to be weird or anything,” Tetsu grins and rubs the back of his neck. “And you don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to. But we talk about everything else, right?”
“Right,” you say, breathless. “What… I mean, what would we even talk about?”
He shrugs.
“I don’t know, like, what kind of stuff were you watching?”
Your face flushes but you fight the urge to dive under the covers.
“I… don’t really know how to describe it.”
Tetsu’s eyes glint.
“Why don’t you show me then?”
You give a nervous bout of laughter, your heart still thunderous in your ears.
“Only if you want to,” he adds and you nod your head.
“I do, I just… won’t you find it weird?”
“Why would I? You’re my best friend.”
Tetsu smiles at you and it’s so familiar and reassuring that you smile back. You know that as soon as you reach for the laptop, your friendship will shift and you won’t be able to move it back. But it feels okay. Natural.
You pick up the laptop as Tetsu moves up the bed to sit next to you, his back against the headboard.
Your finger hovers over the link in the bookmark bar, hesitating before you take the plunge and click it. The familiar video starts playing as a man in a suit makes out with a woman in a secretary outfit. Tetsu gives a low chuckle.
“Nice,” he says and you get a weird thrill at his approval. “D’you watch this a lot?”
“Um, I guess. Every couple of days.”
His breathing hitches and he gives you a sidelong look.
“What?” you ask, defensiveness creeping into your voice.
“Nothing. I just like the idea of you touching yourself.”
“Shut up,” you say, your face warm and he gives a wide grin.
You keep watching for a few minutes as the man in the video starts fingering his secretary. His fingers plunge deep inside her and she throws her head back in pleasure. You feel yourself getting wetter and squirm uncomfortably. Tetsu must notice because he gives you another look.
“Touch yourself if you want,” he says. “I don’t mind.”
“I… no. It’s too awkward,” you reply, keeping your eyes forward on the screen.
“I could do it for you.”
You chance a glance at him and his eyes are on you. He’s looking at you in a way he never had before, like he’s hungry.
“Do you… would you want me to do it for you, too?” you say clumsily. You both look down to see the bulge in his jeans.
“Yeah,” he says, his playful smile gone. “If you want to.”
Your eyes are glued to his bulge. Your entire crush, which you thought you’d long buried, suddenly resurrects itself and you find yourself desperate to touch him.
“I do. Want to, I mean.” You lick your lips and he glances down to look at your mouth.
Unsure who should go first, you hesitate. Luckily, Tetsu doesn’t, and you watch him lick two of his long fingers.
“Spread your legs for me,” he instructs and you do so immediately. He pushes his hand down under the band of your pyjama shorts and panties. He doesn’t break eye contact the entire time. When his fingers reach your pussy lips, he finds them already slick with your arousal.
“The video do this to you?” he asks.
“The video,” you say. “And you.”
Emboldened, you reach across and undo his jeans. You slip your hand in and close it around his cock, gently pulling it free. As soon as you touch him, he inhales sharply.
“Is this okay?” you ask.
“Yeah. Definitely.”
His cock is velvety soft despite being rock solid and it feels hot against your fingers. You begin to stroke him slowly.
“Fuck,” he gasps, his hand still down your shorts. “I want to make you cum but I can’t fucking think straight with your hand around my cock.”
You keep stroking him regardless, enjoying him melt beneath your fingertips. He repositions himself so he’s closer to you and his fingers begin circling your clit. You give a small gasp at the jolt it sends through your body and Tetsu groans, his eyes glazed over.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he murmurs so quietly you almost don’t hear him.
“Do what?” you whisper as his finger continues playing with your swollen clit.
“Touch you,” he breathes. “Fuck you.”
The muscles in his arm are taut and hard, his stomach solid as you start jerking him faster.
“I want you, too,” you tell him, your voice laden with need.
“Really?”
“Yes, Tetsu. Fuck me, now, please.”
“Oh, fuck,” he groans and, with effort, pulls himself free of your grasp.
Your pussy feels bare without his hand but it doesn’t last long as Tetsu positions himself over you. There’s something unspoken between you – that you can take this slow another time, that you can explore each other’s bodies afterwards. Right now, you need each other too much to wait.
Tetsu quickly strips you of your pyjama shorts and panties, the only thing in between his cock and your pussy. You wrap your legs around him, using your feet to push down his jeans just enough so that his cock is free. He lines up the head with your entrance before looking up at you, a question in his eyes. You nod without hesitation.
Tetsu pushes his hips forward. He starts slow, only sinking in a few inches but he’s hard and thick and it’s enough for your eyes to roll back in your head. You can feel him stretching you, rubbing against all your nerves.
“Fuck,” you gasp. When you open your eyes, his are watching you.
He draws back ever so slightly before pushing in even deeper, waiting for you to adjust to the size of him before going any further. Every stroke sends your nerves alight. He continues until he’s buried completely inside you, filling you.
“You feel so fucking good,” he groans.
The walls of your pussy clamp down on him and you can see the muscles in his arms bulging as he holds up his weight over you. He pulls back until he’s nearly fully out. In the light of the laptop, you can see his cock glistening with your juices before he slams back inside you. He picks up speed, finding a rhythm, and each time he pounds you, you hurtle closer to an orgasm. Your pussy starts to contract around his cock.
“T-Tetsu, I… I’m going to…” you gasp but you can’t finish the sentence.
Your orgasm rocks through your body, your pussy squeezing Tetsu’s cock. Your legs wrap tightly around him, encouraging him to go harder, deeper. Tetsu gives a long, low moan and you feel his cock throb. His hand grips your hip, pinning you beneath him as he unleashes thick ropes of his cum inside you. You both collapse onto the bed.
After a few moments, while you both catch your breath, he pushes himself up on one arm. While still inside you, he presses a gentle kiss on your lips – your first kiss. When he pulls back, there’s a grin on his face.
“That was way better than jerking off.”
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puckinghischier · 1 month
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wait i’m crying imagine helping luke with his curl routine and you being the only person he trusts to touch his hair
“luke, hold still,” you tell him, massaging the diffuser around his head.
“it tickles. and it’s really warm,” he argues, twitching again, causing you to huff in frustration.
luke’s currently crouched down in front of you in his en-suite bathroom, sitting not so still while you try to do his newly implemented curl routine.
“honeybee, my knees hurt, we gotta take a break,” he pleads, bouncing slightly.
you turn off the hair dryer and let him stretch his legs to his full height.
“you know, if you’d let me make you an appointment at a salon we wouldn’t be in this predicament,” you tell him, looking up at his lop-sided curls.
a few weeks ago you convinced luke to start a curl care routine, knowing his hair was in desperate need of some TLC. when you first started dating, you saw the 3in1 bottle sitting in his otherwise empty shower and immediately dragged him to the nearest salon supply store to get a curl specific shampoo and conditioner set.
once he finally agreed to start a whole routine (with your help, of course) you picked out several creams and gels to lather into his hair after every shower.
so your new pre-bedtime routine, three nights out of the week, is making sure his hair is hydrated and taken care of. when you suggested letting a professional do a generalized curl care appointment to get him started, luke refused, arguing that you could do it just as good as any salon can.
“i told you, i don’t want them touching my hair,” he reiterates to you, giving the same response every time you suggest it to him.
“luke, they’re literally professionals. they know tricks that i don’t. maybe they could even do something to your hair that lasts for a few weeks, so we wouldn’t have to do this several nights a week. plus, it would help when you’re on the road,” you try to persuade him, reaching up and ruffling his curls around with both hands, trying to keep it from drying unevenly.
the first time he was on the road and it was a hair night, you tried to call him and walk him through it, but he claimed his hair didn’t turn out as soft and shiny as when you do it.
the next time, you had jack come and watch how you did it one night, having him step in to help luke since they typically room together, but he said jack didn’t do it right and he came out looking like he had a clown afro the next day.
“i don’t care. it’s just hair, it can wait until i’m back home,” he grabs your hands, pulling them from his hair and placing them on his shoulders.
you scoff in offense, swatting at his chest. “it is not just hair. it’s one of my favorite features of yours!”
“still doesn’t mean i’m going to let some stranger at a salon get all touchy with it,” he shrugs.
you roll your eyes at his stubbornness, not knowing why it’s such a big deal.
“if you don’t want to spend the money on it, i’ll literally pay for it. i just think it’d do some good, i don’t know why you’re so against it,” you offer.
luke shakes his head no, reaching up to move a stray piece of your own hair out of your face. “s’not the money,” he assures you. “it won’t feel as good as when you do it. love the feeling of your fingers all in my hair. s’comforting,” he says so casually, not even aware that his words caused butterflies to erupt in your belly.
you feel your face flush, biting your lip to hide the smile trying to break out on your face.
“well i’m not saying i’ll stop doing it. i’m just saying that maybe a trip to a salon once a month might prevent more bad hair days on the road,” you try to compromise, not wanting him to know how much his words affected you. you didn’t want to give him more reasons to refuse the idea.
“and i’m just saying, i don’t want anyone but you touching my hair,” he leans down to press his forehead against yours, locking his wide eyes onto yours dramatically.
before you can get a reply out of your mouth, he leans forward and presses his lips to yours, taking your hands off of his shoulders and bringing them up to your hair, emphasizing his point.
you toy with the flat curls, forgetting what you were meant to be doing until your fingers came into contact with a wet patch.
pulling back from the kiss abruptly, luke lets out a frustrated whine while chasing your lips with his.
“we have to finish drying your hair! if i don’t finish it soon it’s gonna dry all flat on one side because we didn’t diffuse it properly,” you pull back from him completely, grabbing the abandoned hair dryer on the counter.
luke groans, stomping over to stand in front of you, crouching back into his earlier position.
“just hurry. if we do this too much longer i’m going to have to tell my coach i can’t skate because i have stiff knees from my girlfriend’s curl routine she makes me do,” he crosses his arm and pouts like a child.
“keep up the whining and i’ll make jack do it next time,” you threaten, turning the hairdryer on and continuing the task at hand.
luke’s body tenses. “i swear to god if you bring jack over here to do my hair again i’m shaving it off.”
“you wouldn’t,” you gasp at him, not believing he just said such a thing.
“try me,” he responds, smirking at you through the large mirror.
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