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#still don't think I'm perfectly happy with them but good enough!
entiqua · 2 days
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I love your artstyle!! Do you have any tips for drawing?
thank you so much! i'm really happy you like it!!💗 as for tips, what i would say would change drastically depending on what kind you're looking for, but some very general ones:
draw what you love and want to see most, regardless of whether anyone else wants to see it. if you don't enjoy what you're drawing it'll never come out as good or genuine as something your whole heart and soul is in. i mean you'd think this would be a no-brainer but sometimes i've had to sit back and ask myself 'if no one was ever going to see this except me, would i actually spend time drawing this?' and i was surprised by the answer
that said, it is also completely valid if your motivation for drawing is to draw for other people! there have been plenty of times where i was too artblocked to draw my own ideas but was still able to draw commissions or gifts and enjoyed it simply because making other people happy with my art makes me happy.
don't get too caught up in having a consistent art style. in my experience this 1000% hinders you
having your sense of anatomy degrade over time without you noticing because you keep drawing the same types of characters is a very real thing! if this is a concern to you be sure to draw a variety
follow a billion artists that you like the art of and you will have endless inspiration injected directly into your brain every time you open social media
my favourite practical tip for those who draw at a desk: keep a small mirror next to you at all times. absolute game changer for quickly referencing hands
if you're drawing digitally, make the canvas huge! in my experience this lets you draw messier/faster and you can't tell at all when you zoom out. if you tend to get stuck spending unnecessary amounts of time micromanaging pixels (me💀) keep it zoomed out while drawing
related to the above point, messy drawings can have far more expressiveness in them than neat and polished drawings. nowadays i never do lineart and go straight from 'barebones stickman pose' to 'varying-levels-of-coherent sketch' and use that as my lineart. sweet freedom from the sketch-looks-better-than-the-lineart phenomenon
if your goal is to improve, then you really do have to scrutinize your art, figure out what you're not satisfied with, and commit the time to focusing on it. 'practice makes perfect' kinda rubs me the wrong way because of how much i've seen it interpreted as 'just draw everyday and you'll magically improve' but genuinely it won't get you very far if you don't actively think hard about what you're trying to improve and take the steps to do it. is this a hot take idk. also hand in hand with this, not every artist is trying to improve and you shouldn't feel bad for this! maybe you just wanna make a little headshot doodle of your fave blorbo and that's your only drawing goal ever. awesome. maybe you know your art has flaws but it's passable enough to convey what you want and you're perfectly satisfied with that. (this is the stage i'm usually at). also awesome!
don't hesitate to draw something because you think it's out of your skill level. the worst that can happen if you draw it is that it comes out terribly but you learned something and can always redraw it better in the future. the worst that WILL happen if you don't draw it is that you'll never draw it. and then it will sit in the back of your brain haunting you for years. it's not like i'm speaking from experience or anything aha
look up 'hand stretches for artists' and do them if you draw a lot unless you wish to summon the wrath of the carpal tunnel demons
of course, these may not necessarily work for you, and most importantly(!) these are coming from the perspective of someone who is primarily a hobbyist. some of this won't be practical for people who need to build an audience, maintain a consistent style for work, etc. these are just things that have personally helped me over many years of drawing :)
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imma-artist · 2 years
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That’s a really unique gauge, where did you get it done?
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takami-takami · 5 months
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Keigo Takami — Nsfw Alphabet
6k. Hawks x Reader. Minors dni.
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- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Oh, Keigo is sickly sweet.
All that post-orgasmic fuzziness is getting funneled directly back towards you: the object of his affections. Every chemical that bursts and pops in his brain when he comes inside you is getting channeled right back into plentiful doting, post-sex. 
Keigo's aftercare… It's riddled with indulgent pampering. You know how some dogs bring you their favorite toy to make you happy? Yeah. It's kinda like that. If you had feathers, he'd preen them between his fingertips.
Keigo's the kind of dom who's primary form of aftercare is giving aftercare. He needs to see his hands soothe and treat you like royalty in order to be normal. At his core, Keigo is quite the sensory, visual creature. When he sees your eyes slit shut like a purring cat beneath his touch, that's when he finally allows himself to breathe.
The hero who is so desperate to help and wants to see people smile more than anything, to the point that it disintegrates him, finally being given a healthy outlet for all those urges to protect and provide and keep you safe? Yet it's still a kind of "work" that satisfies his workaholic nature without feeling like work at all? And it simultaneously serves as the purest, most soothing indulgence he's ever had the pleasure to sink his teeth into? 
Oh my god. It makes him normal.
Physical touch is a big one. He's a bit handsy and gets in your personal space, but you don't mind one bit, so it bodes well for the both of you. If you let him pull you into the bath with him after, he likes to wash and run his palms along your body even though you're perfectly capable of doing something like that yourself. His little "let me, babe" is an instruction and a beg all at once. Expect him to get a bit playful with the bubbles, though. 
Part of why Keigo loves baths with you is because of the part where you turn him over, gently preening and pinching the bristles of each feather until his brain melts to goo once more.
You're going straight to bed after. No buts. You deserve some well-earned rest after you did so good for him. Keigo made sure to start buying the softest blankets and pillows he could find after you started getting intimate together. Don't ask him why.
Keigo doesn't shy away from verbal affirmations, either: "Oh, baby, you did so good for me", "you're perfect", "I'm so proud of you." He never did like holding back his true feelings on things, and speaking to you is no different. He is going to let it spill and that's that.
For aftercare that he needs personally, be sure to reflect how much his aftercare helps you and be honest about what you need! Whether they're verbal or not, he's quite skilled at understanding cues. It's good for him to be shown the fruits of his actions for a change, even if he doesn't think he needs it. 
It's good for him as much as you.
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Keigo never stopped to think about his favorite part of his body. If you asked him, he'd likely cock his head to one side like a doberman puppy given a command they can't exactly interpret on the spot.
He supposes everyone expects him to answer with the word "wings"— even though those closest to his inner circle would balk at such a notion, knowing how complicated that whole situation is. Yes, and no. 
The answer comes easily, after he meets you. Keigo likes the way you look into his eyes. In that way, he learns to love them.
He abhors his hands, but he worships yours. Every bump and ridge, the sharp roundness of each knuckle, the length of each finger. The way you hold him, the way you touch him. He'd shudder in recounting this, if you were to ask him what parts of you he likes best.
He also adores chests. That skin-to-skin contact is soothing; and although he can hear your heartbeat through his feathers well enough already, pressing his ear directly against the source grounds him deeply. It makes him feel ablaze and at peace all at once, the bareness of your skin.
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
This boy cums a lot. Like… Genetically. He's blessed. Whatever god is out there gave him the right equipment for his breeding kink in a stroke (ha) of good luck.
Keigo cums sticky, excessive, fat ropes— his backshots are insane, his facials outrageous, his creampies coating the sides of his cock white and spilling out of you before he even can pull out because there's just not enough room for all his cum inside you.
Keigo is a gentleman, so he will ask your input respectfully beforehand without letting his desires slip through the cracks when he pants the question, "where do you want me?"
But you both know the truth.
You're perfectly aware there is nowhere else his poor, sad, pathetically needy dick would rather burst and throb than stuffed deep inside you. Balls deep, as flush as your bodies can practically go, subtly grinding against your ass rather than thrusting because he would rather die than pull out even a fraction while he's in the midst of an orgasm this good.
The orgasms he experiences when he's inside you are the closest Keigo will get to religion.
How else is his cock supposed to get milked? Not inside of you? Fuck out of here.
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He, uh… Likes to be humiliated and talked down to. And stepped on... A lot. More than a lot. It makes his brain go fuzzy with the lack of control. Don't ask him where that kink comes from. Really, don't worry about it!
Keigo is also the type of guy to swear he's not into feet (he's into feet). No, really, he just thinks your boots suit you and he swallows a lot around them because he's just so fascinated with the, uh… The style. Yeah. You can prop your feet up on him like a footrest, if you want. It's intimate, or something— whatever, just do it.
Can he kiss them? Can he unlace your boots? Do you want a foot massage tonight, babe? It's no inconvenience, really, don't worry about it, he insists… Please? Fuck, please, would you let him touch you, your skin is so soft, he promises he's been so good please god just let him feel your soles against his hot, throbbing cock— I mean his hands. When he massages them. As a favor to you. 
Fuck, his dick is hard now. That's your fault. This is all your fault for wearing sleek leather and not ordering him to rut against it like a fucking dog. Leather boots as a "fashion choice" his ass, you're torturing him. You have to be doing this on purpose. That's your fault, not his, but he's sorry anyway if that means you'll punish him by stepping on his dick so gently with your—
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Virgin loser.
But no, seriously, Keigo has had neither the time nor the cognitive space to stop and consider his own sexuality, let alone experiment with it. It's not like he would have trusted anyone enough to do so with, anyway. Fat fucking chance.
As far as whether he knows what he's doing, he starts off tentative and curious, absorbing the information of your body and voice like a damn sponge. When he tests the waters, so to speak, he starts slowly and observes any miniscule quirk of your muscles, every hitched breath in response to the stimuli he offers.
Keigo is a quick learner and a perfectionist. Don't expect him to take the backseat for long.
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Missionary.
Undoubtedly, missionary. He's romantic, like that.
What more could a man want? Your ankles hooked across the small of his back, his right hand entwined with yours while his left kneads every inch of your body, focusing on petting your sex whenever he wants to hear your voice whine for him. 
Keigo gets the perfect view like this. He can absorb all you have and breathe it into his lungs and swallow it while he gulps down your image like a sacreligious idol. Like an angel. Like worship.
The connection of it all maddens him. He adores the way he can press your thighs up and into a mating press if he so pleases, deep enough to stuff your guts full of him and make you sob gooey tears with how good it feels. It allows him unbridled access to your thighs, your chest, your hands, your mouth (which he plays with unashamedly like his favorite toy. Fingers, tongue, lips.)
God help him, Keigo loves missionary.
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
As serious as Keigo wants to take the love you share, for every intimate night you make love and absolutely nothing else, there's another day he makes you laugh so hard your chest aches like a bruise in bed.
Keigo can be a brat. A little shit, a pain in the ass. This is no secret. Still, every joke and nibble and tackle and moan is utterly saturated. It's sticky. It's lovesick.
He likes to banter in battle, and that switch doesn't turn off when the conflict is between the sheets. There are nights he simply allows himself to be your pillow princess, laid back and spoiled in the fluff of your bed like it's made of heated cashmere; and there are other nights you grant Keigo the holy sacrament of servicing you while you simply lounge and watch him do what he does best. 
Those nights, not many words are exchanged. There's no need to say them.
You get each other.
Even so, you cannot count the amount of times you've choked "shut the fuck up" through laughter over the years, when sex looks more like tussling than worship. It's stress relief as much as it is bonding, play as much as it is intimacy. Still, Keigo keeps a good balance of humor and seriousness.
Can't have all work and no play, can he? He never was a dull boy.
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Keigo has trimmed hair that is still blonde, but slightly darker than the hair on his head. It's well-kept. 
He keeps his chest bare, unfortunately, to look photogenic for his modeling gigs and such. But after many nights spent begging and pleading on your knees, Keigo sort of considers keeping the happy trail. After the night you traced your tongue down the trail toward his cock, promising he'll get this kind of treatment if he keeps it, Keigo never shaves it again.
Oh, Keigo's happy trail… It crawls up his navel and stops just short of his belly button; dark and noticeable, but a little sparse, kind of like the scruff on his chin. It makes him look more rugged while simultaneously making him appear prettier somehow, because Keigo is nothing if not unfairly contradictory and magnificent in everything. Asshole. 
You suppose anything would look good with those abs as a backdrop, though.
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect?
Keigo never knew intimacy before he met you. It sounds like hyperbole, the word never; but whether people believe him or not, it doesn't erase the decades of longing for no one and nothing in particular, a parasocial ghost that both plagued him and kept him trudging forward. 
Keigo builds community for others, working to connect their hearts… Why wasn't he invited, again? Oh well, that doesn't matter to him. That's not why he does the work he does. His own happiness is never why Keigo does fucking anything. 
It's for the greater good. And Keigo is worse than everyone else, isn't he? It makes sense why he wouldn't be invited. He never stopped to question that.
You don't touch him like he's dirty, though. The first time your palm slid up his throat, he stiffened and trembled like a twig that might have snapped beneath your boot; but when you hush him this softly, he's a stray kitten in your maws, plucked and wrapped for the first time in fleece and warmth and love. For as feral as the world made him, Keigo is at his core quite a domestic thing. You put him back in place when you make love to him.
In turn, Keigo offers himself to you. It's not much, but it's yours if you'll have it, he says. The louder he gets when you fuck him, the more you realize he's opening up his lungs like buds awake from frost. 
You know from experience what that's like. He opens you up, too.
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Keigo had to go through a bit of a journey to arrive where he's at. 
Namely, over the course of his sad little life, he underwent three categorical phases. Do not mind the tiered nature of the following sections. This shift was, in actuality, torturously gradual; like having one's body dragged forward by its ankles, finally accepting you have no say in where it's headed after a few desperate claws at denial.
Jerking off was a chore, a half-assed attempt at wringing the frustration of a long day out of his body and letting it wash down the drain on Sunday nights— every other time of the week was booked to the nines with hero work. Ten minutes for yanking it, tops. If Keigo timed his sessions with a stopwatch, he'd fall just short of the millisecond every time. Score. Efficiency. Plop down in bed and go straight to sleep after so you don't have to think about how lonely that whole experience just made you feel.
Enter, scene: you. After meeting you, masturbation just wasn't the same. It frustrated him that he even had to use the same word to describe it, because as far as Keigo was concerned, this was not the same activity in the slightest. Those were the golden years, when jerking off felt less like "rubbing one out" and more like "this is how it feels to drown in liquid gold. This is how it feels to have your cause of death be every neuron in your brain spontaneously combusting in a fit of pleasure. This is how it feels to be in love." The first time he allowed himself to touch his cock to the thought of you, Keigo swore he saw god; and when he finished an hour later, the back of his hand was chewed to whimpering bits. Yeah, those were the golden years.
And here we are, back to square one. After you finally get together, Keigo is back to square one. What do you mean he has to use his own hand when he's on missions away from you? What do you mean he can't cum inside you? This sucks. This blows. It's not the same, and for all his patience and respectability, the lack of passion when he touches himself kills Keigo with sexual frustration. The only thing it accomplishes is planting a pathetic whimper of "fuck, I miss them" in his head while he pants post-orgasm in a shitty motel bed alone at two in the damn morning. You do get a really cute text message after every time; something chaste like "missing you tonight <3." It's so obvious. You simply have to laugh.
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Breeding, obviously. 
Dumbification, both ways. Thinking is overrated! And honestly, he deserves a bit of a break from all the whirring that goes on in his overheated, overworked, cognitive machine of a brain. Something about the responsibility for guiding his partner through it when he's the one who doms is special to him, too.
Oral fixation, because he's the cutest little biter. He chews. Keigo also gets lost with his mouth latched onto your chest, flicking his eyes upward periodically when he has the mental faculties to think for half a second (which is not all that often, when his mouth is full, his lips are pursed, and his tongue is lapping its fill.) He also adores giving head!
Subspace, too— Keigo is a fiend for subspace, either guiding you through it or getting lost in it, himself.
Huge fan of edging and overstim. Keigo is not a physical sadist at all, he never wants to make you cry out of pain; but tears of frustration are not just "on the table," they're a goddamn feature. He is such a pain in the ass. You can't blame him for being insufferable, for stopping just short of your orgasm when you want to cum and forcing more out of you when you think it's too much. He's just having so much fun!
Keigo is the kind of guy to edge you when you say you're close and click his teeth dramatically before he goes, "ahhh, shucks, baby. What was that? Did you ask for something? I didn't hear you that time. Ask nicer." 
He tilts his chin to the side and taps his ear with two stiff fingers when he leans in, invading your space as he mockingly orders: "Say it louder for me." 
And after you throw your little fit about how mean he's being, how he’s such a bully, Keigo finally feels emboldened to move onto the next phase. He makes you feel good until you're sobbing, expertly dragging climax after climax out of your body until you're so overstimulated you can barely speak and are lacking more than a few electrolytes. In which case, Keigo will make a point to laugh at your complaints. He'll say, "aww, I thought you liked coming? Aren't I being nice? Don't pout, I'm just giving you what you asked for!"
This is not so much a kink, but he likes the title daddy because of the trust, affection, and protective responsibility being 'daddy' implies. Assuming responsibility during sex feels like home to him; because for the first time in his life, he has a healthy outlet for those urges and instincts that have caused him so much trouble. He admits in canon to being desperate to be of use and help, after all— oh, and along that same vein, he loves to service top.
Keigo thinks the title "sir" is really cute too! But mostly, he treasures the nicknames and pet names you come up with for him. His names of "Keigo Takami" or "Hawks" have never felt stable for him growing up. So nicknames are nice, for a change.
And he has a mommy kink because of his mommy issues. You'll actually have to be very gentle about this because he absolutely does not recognize where it comes from at all.
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
In bed. Anywhere in his home, really— surfaces, the floor, cabinets somehow— but he especially prefers to take you in bed. It's not a nest thing, trust me (it totally is).
The way Keigo's quirk works isn't an actual animal quirk, so he's not literally a bird and his bed is not literally a nest. But he does possess a number of birdlike oddities, and this is one of them! 
He also just feels safe, secure, and at ease in his home (not the one from the commission, his actual home). Given his whole thing about his little roosting place in canon, it makes sense that the bedroom holds special significance to Keigo in particular.
Keigo bought you some blankets. He really, really hopes you like them. 
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Service. Pleasure and sensation is fantastic for him, he thrives in it, but eroticism is cognitive for him as well (or, ya know, lack of cognitive during dumbification). Don't get him wrong, a simple "woah!" and a popped half-chub from seeing you shirtless is still something that definitely happens, but he can be a complex man, too. He promises.
Most of all, Keigo is an observant sponge. He likes to watch, to study, to learn, to analyze, to perfect— like a cat confined in an enclosure given toys and apt time to chase and solve as a form of enrichment.
Sex is special and a bonding activity, but as much as he's a sucker for the plain old basics— the romantic part of it all— it's no surprise that Keigo gains a great deal of satisfaction from gently mapping the parts of your psyche that make you tick. And obviously, as Keigo is one for outcomes, just mapping you out isn't enough for him. 
He should be able to play with the fruits of his labor, too, no? The satisfying pop of your last brain cell has something of a Pavlovian effect for him. That's when the real fun of it begins. 
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Any heavy impact play. This is an absolute no from him. He doesn't want to do it with tools like flogs, whips, etc; but it's especially worse when it's his own hands. He can't exactly pinpoint why, though (poor birdie has a thing about his hands being dirty). For that matter, he dodges anything that would bring you more physical pain than, say, a firm tap. Keigo does enough of that at his job, he doesn't want to hurt his baby, too. 
A couple love taps on the cheek or thigh are the most you'll get, but the way he does it is more than enough to get your brain fuzzy. He's a biter and scratches a bit, though! So if you're into pain, this is where you'll find common ground.
Never call him filthy or dirty, or ever imply he is either of those things, even as a joke or to tease him. 
He's not a fan of choking, but specifically when he's the one doing it. Again, it reminds him of his job. He's okay being choked himself, though, since he believes he's perfectly capable of handling himself (and he's used to putting his life on the line, anyways).
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Most are familiar with the "Keigo-drowns-between-your-thighs-and-dies-happy" headcanon at this point, but the classics are classics for a reason. 
He prefers giving over receiving. It's not even close, honestly. Your orgasms against his tongue satisfy him more than his own— not that he won't be touching himself while he goes down on you. Because he absolutely will.
Rough day? He'll eat it from the back to cheer himself up. 
Good day? He tops it off with you on top of his face, of course.
Mediocre day? Fuck it, he's on his knees and his mouth is on you before his keys hit the table, anyways.
One of your fondest memories you recount to him endlessly (to his embarrassed chagrin) is a night you two were roleplaying in bed. The slippery fucker thought he was slick, tied to the bedpost as he attempted to— in character and in scene— subtly propose you sit on his face as a "punishment" in that pathetic little oh no, whatever will I do type of voice. 
His face flushed scarlet when you burst into laughter over him, breaking character and nearly busting a lung in the process. 
Oral? As punishment? For Keigo? Did he actually think you were going to buy that? Oh my god. You never let him live it down.
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Depends on his mood and yours. Oftentimes, you find yourselves synced and on similar wavelengths; but other times, as all couples inevitably see, there's a bit of a mismatch between sharp and smooth desires. On those nights, Keigo takes the liberty of defaulting to softness. 
He easily slows his pace when you tell him you want it syrupy and molten, regardless of how pent up he is. But more interestingly, Keigo is able to see when your "give it to me rough" doesn't reach your eyes. 
When you ask for rough sex with your hands clutching his tee shirt and a shaky look in your eye, that's when Keigo rolls up his sleeve and kisses you softly. If you pitch a fit, he'll shush it away. Both wrists are kissed, and both thighs are placed reverently on his shoulders. 
"Why are you doing that," you ask.
"Because I like you a whole lot, dummy," he answers, pecking a kiss on your tummy. "Let me show you how much?"
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
When it comes down to it, Keigo is a hero. His career comes first, so quickies are a delightful inevitability in this line of work. Given his particular gift for espionage and the equipment he carries to boot (feathers, baby), the chances of anyone catching him in the act are slim enough to slide under the door to the broom closet he's fucking your brains out in.
But make no mistake, just because Keigo can break you down quickly doesn't mean he prefers it. He'd much rather take you in his bed achingly, ironically slow for a man so beloved for his speed. He'd rather be meticulous with you, but he can't always get what he wants exactly when he wants it. Self control is unfortunately a thing he has to consider, he'd sigh.
He's still going down on you during quickies, though. No way in hell he'd deny himself that.
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Keigo is quite careful with you. He cradles you in his maws like fresh fruit fit to burst— sinking his canines just enough to pierce your skin and sample your juices, but never using enough pressure to cause you any tangible damage. He wouldn't want to hurt his baby, even if part of him does want to deconstruct you a little; just not in a destructive sense. His preferred method of breaking down is to coax out your moans the way a gardener coaxes the sprout of his very own harvest.
That being said, once Keigo becomes comfortable enough with you to let the guard dog in his heart rest in your lap, he is open to a surprising amount, sexually speaking. Whatever it is, he's clever enough to find a way to make it sexy— and if a certain kink or position doesn't work out as planned, he's grounded enough to remain confident you can both get a laugh out of it together, at least. 
You just get each other like that, you and him; and fuck, if that isn't the hottest thing in the world to him. 
He feels safe enough with you to treat your bed like a playground and a temple all at once. Keigo stops and considers his new life one night as he takes the BDSM test with you, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a mouth still spilling crumbs from that night's takeout. His chest hurts from laughing, his heart is fuller than his stomach; and for the first time in his life, another person feels like home to him.
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Multiple. Many. Numerous.
This is Keigo's forte, his wheelhouse, his territory. You're out of your mind if you think you can outlast this man, but it's cute of you to try.
Your attempts to keep your sorry little mind held together by willpower and duct tape for just a little while longer are absolutely adorable to him. He'll use that against you, too.
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Keigo doesn't own any toys— well, he didn't, before he met you. A few painful months after he realized it was actually you that made his heart beat, he buys a fleshlight to kind of, sort of, maybe pretend it's you. 
Disrespectful, yeah. He knows. But it's better than the alternative. He can't afford to get you mixed up into his life; and if fucking a chunk of silicone every couple of nights to unscramble the plague of you from his head and make it normal (it makes it worse) is the sacrifice Keigo has to make, then call him Japan's number one martyr, because he's going to wring his money's worth out of the damn thing (and his cock).
Once Keigo gets over that thinly-veiled form of self-sabotage, he buys a couple of toys to use on you, instead.
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Life's unfair, sweetheart.
That's what Keigo tells you, smile wide and gloved hands clasped behind his back as he encircles your bed.
He adores his handiwork, tied up, gagged, and stuffed in every orifice. He's not a sadist, he swears! He just wants to… Overwhelm you a little. It's fun! And it's not Keigo's fault, really, that he likes to play with his food.
Honestly, he's doing you a favor by teasing you to bits! You like it, don't you? All pouts and "please"s, but the moment he takes away that stimulation you nearly throw a fit (how adorable. Keigo adores his little brat.)
The only comfort granted to you is the sound of his voice, all buttery rich and familiar; but even that notion carries a caveat. The words he decides to spill aren't exactly fair. Condescending bits of praise he knows will get you to whimper for him just right, questions he knows you can't answer properly in this state…
Point is, Keigo will use every resource available to be unfair to you because he's the worst combination of perfectionist and pain in the fucking ass. If he doesn't edge you up to the damn millisecond before an orgasm, Keigo won't consider it a job well done; and a job insufficiently done is not a job done at all. He'll have to give it another go until he does it right. 
… And another, and another, for good measure.
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Keigo is loud. 
He's embarrassingly, heart-wrenchingly loud. The oh-god-did-I-leave-the-window-open kind of loud, especially when he subs. He's such a fucking baby about it; like he's crying for attention, for you. Poor thing. Whimpering, moaning, sniffling for attention like a puppy with its tail between its legs peeking from between a dog crate's bars.
Keigo never was one to hold himself back or keep his mouth shut— he's not the shy type, exactly— and you look like the type of person to be into that kind of shit, anyway, he'd attest later with an infuriating smile. 
Is he wrong? He rarely is. Bastard.
But regardless, Keigo tends to run his mouth. His voice is his most precious weapon to use against you when he's on top, too— sharper than any feather he's ever grown, that's for damn sure. His dirty talk reveals his silver tongue and charisma more than anything.
Keigo is a switch, but he enjoys the luxury of changing your mood quite quickly with his voice alone. He doesn't have to try hard at all to get you into subspace or domspace, really. All it takes is a "make me" to get you to be mean to him, a "please" to get you to pamper him, a "watch it" to get you to shrink, a "poor baby" to get you to melt.
He's not the only one that's well-trained, it seems.
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
His wings puff up a little when he cums. Like a Ghibli character, yeah.
When he's babbling while he gets a good lay, dick wet and balls deep into a real good fuck, Keigo's wings shudder from the shoulderblades to the wingtips. They flap a few times for good measure, uncontrolled with arousal. It's not like he couldn't suppress the instinct to do so. It's just that he knows it drives you wild to see him as authentic and raw as he wishes he could be. 
It's a little unconscious, but moving his wings during sex also entices your hands to play with them a little. You always did like to fidget, and what better way to peacock in front of his precious partner than to flap their favorite fidget toy within arm's reach? 
It's mutually beneficial, thank you very much. You get a little something to grip on to while he blows your back out, and Keigo gets to blow his load while you tug at an erogenous zone arguably more sensitive than his cock. 
It's a win-win.
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
The wishful thinking answer is that he is big but not like, ouch big, about 6 inches or so. HOWEVER, realistically, this is not the case. There is evidence to consider.
His pants are very baggy. This raises questions. Nobody wears pants that baggy at the crotch all the fucking time unless they are packing. He also carries a certain energy with him. BDE or whatever. So this bumps him up to about 6.5-7 inches as an estimate. But honestly, it's difficult to say! Because Keigo is also not particularly tall or anything.
It curves a bit upward when he's rock hard and it slaps against his stomach when he's on his back. Mostly smooth save for a few prominent veins. Nothing crazy, but enough to be visually appealing or trace if you want to. His dick is ever so slightly darker than the rest of him and a bit flushed, especially at the tip. The head is proportional/average and swells darker when he's hard or edged.
Huge breeder balls. They're sensitive, too. And he gives insane cumshots. Like, he cums a lot. A lot. His backshots are out of this world. Fat, sticky ropes. A gift for his breeding kink, truly. 
He has a very, very pretty dick. Like the kind you'd look at and go "wow, congrats man" and give him a firm handshake. The kind of dick you stick a little blue award ribbon that says "best in show" on and pop a confetti popper.
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Not very high at all, interestingly. It's pretty par for the course, for a man his age; if not a bit dampered at times by his constant business and overworked nature.
When Keigo gets into it, he gets into it, sure, but his drive isn't really on the higher side. It's more of an "on" and "off" switch that he has a pretty solid handle on. His cool head up top tends to trump the hot one between his legs. 
Well. You kind of throw a monkey wrench in that whole system, but that's okay. No, really, it's cool. He still is able to begrudgingly do the same old routine, this time through gritted teeth and with a head nearly thunked against the wall in agonized frustration.
When you send him racy pics before his afternoon patrol, it technically is possible for him to will his boner down and think of something else. And that is what he ultimately decides to do— just with a little footnote tucked away for later. 
He'll get you back. He always does.
- ̗۪۪̥̀৩ु˖❥ Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Eepy. Falls asleep on top of you, cradled like a teddy bear. Zzzzz.
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beatrixstonehill2 · 9 months
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"Jesus, these things are going to fill my lap in another couple months. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy my college signed me up for this clinical trial, but I am starting to get a bit concerned with how massive and heavy my boobs are going to get. Like.... only a few months ago I was a C-Cup. They're already humongous..... The people at the trial make me strip in front of a bunch of pharmaceutical execs. They weigh my breasts, poke and prod them, squeeze them, crush them in vices, and sometimes they even inject huge syringes of saline right into them, one after another, making them even more swollen and huge, telling me these saline treatment are 'just part of the trial'. I think they just like filling my boobs with a gallon of saline each to see me struggle to keep my back straight.
I ask them how long the trial will go on, how many more months I need to take the breast growth pills. Like, they clearly work..... But they just tell me as long as possible to test the limits of the medicine. I try to get them to tell me how big my boobs will get and they avoid the question, telling me not to worry and enjoy them. I tell them my back hurts really bad now and they laugh. I say, 'It won't be so funny if my spine snaps and I wind up paralyzed!' The scientists and execs just shrug and tell me when my spine snaps they'll ensure I have every possible accommodation to complete my diploma. They never say 'if', they say 'when'.....
I try to tell them I don't want to wind up paralyzed, but they say it's not really a big deal and I'll be able to live a perfectly fulfilling life, that their research is what's important. I got frustrated one time and blurted out that I won't be able to feel my pussy or when guys fuck me. They told me it's a good thing, men can be as rough as they want and I won't even feel it. I guess they have a point, that's kind of nice. I said I'll miss cumming, and they told me my pussy will still cum. I might not feel it, but it'll react physically on its own and squirt if men fuck me hard enough and rub/smack my clit enough. I guess that's OK...... as long as men can still make me squirt. It'll suck not feeling it but it'll be kinda fun to watch men have their way with me.
I guess I'm really dedicated to this clinical trial after all. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't having fun growing such a giant pair of boobs. Soon they'll fill my lap and probably get way bigger. They'll weigh well over 100lbs each.... I'll need help to do just about anything regardless of whether or not my poor spine gives out. But I do agree..... I think it'd be more fun if it did, plus the people running the trial seem excited for it to happen. So, I don't wanna disappoint them. Hopefully my boobs get so humongous they totally surround me..... I wonder how much saline the team running the trial will pump into them for fun after that? A whole bathtub's worth? My boobs will be so fucking swollen and impossible to budge. All I'll be will be a poor, stationary girl who'll really only exist to serve cock; what else are such monstrous breasts useful for? And the rest of me will be a playground for men to use however they see fit. At least I don't need to be able to move to do therapy sessions online once I graduate and become a psychiatrist. Maybe I'll hold in person sessions anyway and judge my patients' mental state on how harshly they treat my gigantic breasts? With any luck it'll be a revolutionary new approach other girls decide to imitate. Wouldn't that be nice? ❤️"
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faraway-archive · 5 months
Text
Favorite Secretary
Yan!CEO x GN (secretary) Reader
Tw: yandere behavior, smut, mind corruption
AN; Sorry for any mistakes, and no plot- smut :p
˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊
Gasping for air as you grasp his desk as he keeps fucking you. Trying to keep your moans down as his cock fits perfectly into your hole, as if it was made for him and that just made him more feral. He wants to hear more of you, if only you didn't have to be quite while he fucks you brainless. Every time both of you have sex he is very happy about ruining your career, he did everything in his power to make sure you only work with him. That you are under his control. He made sure you got rejected and blacklisted from working anywhere else but his company. Even better that you are his secretary, it helps to make sure you are closer to him than before.
He keeps ramming into you and grabs your waist tightly, making sure you don't fall onto his desk. He wants to make sure you feel his dick inside of you, at some point he pulls you up and makes you sit on his dick. Opening up your legs and just starts ramming his dick into your hole, you lost it and moaned loudly. You can't help it, his dick feels good as he keeps going in and out, it doesn't help that he is taller and buffer to. He has all that muscle and it wasn't for show, it's something that he can use to his advantage.
"Fuck baby, you feel so good. You love taking my cock right? Panting like crazy, grabbing my arm as if that can stop me from being in your tight hole."
You couldn't say anything but moan. His dick is too good, too good for you to mumble anything but a slight 'yes'. Grabbing his arms as he goes into you, begging to cum. You can't help it- his dick is too good for you to keep it in longer and you just need to let it go. You can't think straight anymore besides his dick. You hate it, you wish that you didn't have to come to this life. If only you didn't get blacklisted from the job site, you could have been anywhere else. But on the other hand you can't deny, this job is good and it helps keep you afloat in the current world. If only your CEO wasn't so.... obsessed with you, but I guess that comes with the job.
"I will only cum if you beg for it." "Please let me cum! Let me, please please," You kept blabbing, unable to make coherent sentences or thoughts. His dick is too much for you. "Cum then, since you're desperate enough for my dick."
As soon as you came, he still kept going. At this point you felt overwhelmed and your legs shake violently. Soon after he came inside of you- no warning as you feel his cum inside of you. Gasping as he slowly pulls his dick out, watching his cum drip out of your hole.
"Good.. you did so well. I'm proud of my little secretary, taking my dick well. But you did moan loudly... ah well that's another time. Good job." Smiling as he helps clean you up, dressing you in your outfit and watching you struggle to leave his office as if nothing happened.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Below this is old writing, I didn't like the way it was heading so yeah, didn't feel like deleted it LOL
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ You always kept quiet and did your own things. Wondering why the CEO would make you be his own secretary, didn't he have one before? You wonder what happened to them. Shaking your head you continued your job, scheduling meetings, responding to emails, all sorts of boring but important tasks. While in the mists of your task, Lux, the CEO called you to his office. That's weird, he never called you to his office unless it was an emergency. Aka you fucked up. Gulping, you finished up sending the last email and began to walk up to his office.
While you were walking up to his office, Lux was eagerly waiting for you. He has done so much to get you to be this close, just a bit more and you will be his. He was able to mess up your life to the point to where you now depend on this job to survive. He was getting tired of his old sectary anyways, but you. You were appealing to him. Something about you appealed to his taste, you were someone so pure, kind-hearted, something that he mostly lacked. You touched his heart when he first saw you in that small café. He was going to pass that until he heard your voice, and than he saw you. You captivated his attention. He just had to have you. To make you his. He smiles as he eagerly waited for you, he just can't wait to make you his. No matter what.
You made it to his office, standing in front of it you softly knocked. Hearing a muffled 'come in' you opened the door. Lux. The CEO sitting in his desk, smiling at you and gesturing to come closer to his desk. You do, very shakily. When you arrived at his desk, he stands up and walks towards you, Lux towering over you as he slowly leans in to your face. You slowly back away from him until your back hits his desk.
Glancing up at him he smirks, one of his hands holds the back of your hair and yanks it. Making you look at his ceiling and felt his breath on your neck. Kissing your neck as his other hand travels down into your pants. Gasping as he quickly unbottles your pants and watching it slide down.
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lovinpelova · 6 months
Text
forgive me | n. charles
summary; you always forgive your lover.
🎵 idfc - blackbear
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as soon as the gate opened for chelsea to start scoring goals you knew this wasn't going to be arsenal's night. six minutes after the first and eleven minutes after the second you were down 3-0 with no hope of your team meshing together, substitutes doing nothing apart from aiding kim in the last minute goal that took away chelsea's clean sheet.
whilst you were happy to score one goal, it wasn't enough. you were playing awfully with possession in midfield and defence as a cdm twinned with wally, both of you trying to track back and block attacks but ultimately having to rely on manu to deliver in the second half. fresh legs did nothing for arsenal and the only goal you scored was from a deflection, chelsea had gotten their revenge at stamford bridge.
with only twenty minutes to go niamh got subbed off after being tended to by the medical staff at chelsea, your mind immediately running wild with bad thoughts when you saw her holding her knee but eventually calming down when she walked off perfectly fine. the chelsea players walking off to time waste and getting more physical had earned a reaction from you, the referee gifting you a yellow card and warning you to stop protesting before she put you on a red. it's safe to say after that, a horrible team performance, remembering you had to play chelsea in the continental cup final, having a low player rating yourself and spending the night at niamh's house - you were in a foul mood.
fair enough, the game wouldn't have made much of a difference for arsenal if you'd won due to how far behind you were in goals and points, but it's the performance that was bugging you all. the league standings were the same, united too far behind for arsenal to be worrying about losing their spot, but when you're yelling at your teammates in disagreement and failing to keep possession anywhere on the pitch it starts to play a mental game on you all. chelsea took advantage of that - and whilst you congratulated them all happily with a genuine smile on your face, you couldn't help but let out a deep sigh of relief and exhaustion when you collapsed into the passenger seat of your girlfriend's car.
"good game?"
you shook your head with another deep exhale, for some reason having tears in your eyes at such a harsh loss.
"definitely not."
you replied with a wobble in your voice, niamh seemingly not registering how upset you were due to her adrenaline still pumping from such a large win. she'd been teasing you ever since you won 4-1 against chelsea last time, saying if chelsea beat arsenal when you were sleeping at hers for the weekend that she wouldn't let you live it down, but you didn't think she'd actually follow through with her promise.
"i reckon the socks gave you a bit of bad luck, don't you? i mean- nothing was working for you guys."
"yup, gathered that from the scoreline niamhy."
the defender processed her nickname as a fond expression rather than an annoyed one, continuing to rant about how good of a game chelsea had for the fifteen minute drive home whenever she had seen something that reminded her of the club or remembered a good tackle she'd made.
you'd been tuning out her rants the entire way and she hadn't noticed your dip in attitude since the final whistle blew, your fuse seconds away from blowing in fury.
"you hungry babe? actually nevermind, i'm sure you're full after having that defeat shoved down your throat."
"oh- niamh just shut up for one second would you!"
the brunette stood still in the kitchen with a shocked expression, turning to you as she watched your face writhe in anger.
"i'm sick and tired of hearing your cocky little comments every time you win against arsenal!"
"excuse me? don't act like you don't make comments when arsenal win against chelsea-"
"i do but i don't shove them down your throat and go on about it for the entire fifteen minute drive home!"
niamh pushed herself off the counter so she was stood upright, her jaw slack in shock at your sudden outburst and the way you were yelling. normally you spoke to your girlfriend about anything that was annoying you, so it seems the anger of such a big loss was still hanging over your head and making you act out.
"i'm not shoving anything down your fucking throat y/n! you need to watch your tone- it's not my fault arsenal played shit today!"
"don't you dare talk about my team like that! i didn't insult chelsea's performance when we won at the emirates, you have absolutely no right to be saying that!"
by now you'd made your way into the kitchen and were stood on the other side of the island, staring into niamh's eyes furiously as she returned the rage you were emitting. she thought tonight would be peaceful judging by your silence in the car and smile at stamford bridge when congratulating the blues, but she must have read you wrong.
"i'm not talking shit about your team, i'm telling the truth! the only goal you managed to score was off a fucking deflection! how is that a good game?!"
"i never said we had a good game! you need to shut your fucking mouth about my club and how we played tonight- you don't play for arsenal, so you don't have a say in the matter!"
"oh so all of a sudden my opinion on performances doesn't matter just because i play for chelsea, does it?!"
"shut the fuck up niamh! i'm so sick of your bullshit! go get your ego in check and come talk to me when you're done acting like a fucking toddler!"
before your girlfriend could respond you stormed off into the guest room of her apartment, angrily putting your phone on charge after slamming the door behind yourself. you could hear niamh angrily mumbling things to herself in the kitchen, soon followed by the quiet noise of her tv turning on as she seemingly resided in the living room.
you hadn't meant to lash out at niamh, it was the last thing you ever wanted to do, but with her constant teasing and cocky remarks for almost half an hour straight you couldn't help yourself. you'd blown up on each other and were now waiting to calm down, expecting the other to apologise first before remembering you were both too stubborn for your own good, soon feeling sleepy from the exhaustion of constantly running back and forth. not even bothering to get under the duvet or fluffy blanket niamh had put at the foot of her spare bed, you let sleep overcome your senses.
during the middle of the night you woke up to the door opening and closing, a body shuffling into bed behind you and wrapping strong arms around your waist with soft kisses along your shoulder and neck. quiet apologies were whispered against your skin with thumbs rubbing the muscles of your stomach to fully wake you up.
"i'm sorry babygirl. you know i can't sleep on an argument, i didn't mean to talk bad about your club like that. i was just still a bit too happy about the win."
your arm reached behind you to pull niamh further into you by her neck, sighing in comfort when you felt her continue to pepper soft kisses along your exposed skin.
"i didn't mean to insult you like that. i know how cocky you can get, i should've told you i wasn't up for teasing or just asked for space when i started getting mad."
you turned in her arms and pressed your forehead against hers instinctively, hands caressing her cheeks as you closed your eyes and breathed in deeply. niamh continued to rub her thumbs across your hips in a comforting manner, both of you breathing in sync to calm down and forgive the other for lashing out. your thumbs traced along her jawline and up her chin, searching for her lips and dragging her bottom one down teasingly to let her know you were going to kiss her, the defender gladly letting you as she kissed you back softly with a smile to match your own. you pecked her lips a couple more times to test the waters, trying not to let your breathing pick up when she gripped your hips a tiny bit harsher with more intent than before.
"niamh,"
"y/n,"
she breathlessly whispered your name to match your call of hers, both of you closing your eyes and resting your foreheads together. the curtains were slightly drawn back from the window behind you- and by god, was the moonlight doing wonders for her eye colour.
"i love you baby."
your immediate response was to kiss her passionately, lingering on her lips with your thumb rubbing over her cheekbone and noses touching due to the lack of distance.
"i love you my girl."
you mirrored her words and felt her cheeks wrinkle up in a genuine smile, the defender leaning in to kiss you softly with one hand pulling you by the side of your neck as yours moved to trace along her pulse point lovingly. niamh smiled at the feeling of your fingertips trailing down her body, pulling away and biting your lip in a teasing response before you forced her to pull away by shoving her shoulder.
"turn around, i wanna be big spoon."
niamh complied to your order without any hesitation and a matching grin, turning around and reaching behind to tug your arm around her waist, kicking your leg softly when you scoffed at her eagerness and quickly sinking back into your touch with a relaxed sigh to match your own.
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rabbidbunwy · 9 days
Text
🔞 Gojo x reader| Minors DNI| NSFW WARNING 🔞
Needy little things
Sum. You can't get enough of your best friend dick Warnings. fem! reader x best friend roomate! Gojo,hookup, unprotected, riding f!,f! receiving,cussing,praise,petnames,cummin outside then inside,teasing,begging,both the parties being selfish in their own way,two rounds,filling up
i'm no english native so sorry for some mistakes
please reblog 🔁 and like❤️
@muzansslxt @candy69gurl @kiwicopia @ponderingmoonlight @satorkive
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He chuckled at your words. “Break you? Don’t be dramatic” he said, his hands roaming over your body. He loved teasing you, making you squirm and whine underneath him.
“You’re taking me perfectly well” he continued, his lips finding your neck. Satoru had his fair few hookups in high school, yet he never felt this way around any of them. It felt special with you. He needed you. Only you.
"Fuck Toru, don't come inside" you phanted "fuck,if someone sees us were doomed" He was too caught up in the moment, to lost in you. Your face was flushed pink, your breathing ragged, and he thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“And who’s gonna catch us? They’re all in a mission" he said. His lips found their way to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses behind. “No one’s going to find out.”
"Outside Gojo outside" you whined at your friend as he groaned. “You’re a tease.” Satoru did as you say, though, his release ending up on your stomach. “There. Happy, princess?” He asked, his breath panting. He’ll never understand why he does all these things with you. You know he’s supposed to be the strongest and yet here he was, listening to you like a good boy.
"More" you whined as you switched position so you were riding Gojo "Need more" you cooed “Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He teases, his hands moving to your hips to help steady you. “Just can’t get enough of me, hm?” Satoru had a habit of getting snappy when he was riled up. “So whiny” Satoru chuckles. “Stop being so cute or you won’t get what you want.” He leaned up, his lips right by your ear. “You know how to play the game, princess. Beg.”
"Mhn please let me come Satoru" you whined riding him harder "I will let you come inside just-mhn" you whined trying to bargain. He could feel you getting needier, and he loved it. Satoru grunted, his hands gripping your hips tighter as you rode him. “Needy little princess, that’s what you are.” He smirked, his blue eyes staring up at you. “And how badly do you want it?”
"Please please,so bad" you ride him hard gripping him "i'm close" He didn’t think you would be so demanding, not with the way you usually act. Even he was a bit surprised, seeing you like this. Though he knew, he knew that he was the one who reduced you into a whiny mess. “Yeah, you’re close, huh?” He says, his voice low. His hands squeezed at your hips, guiding you as you rode him. “You’re being so selfish.”
“Not even gonna ask if I’m close?” He teased, a smirk still on his face. “Just focused on yourself, princess?” Satoru was also close, though he loved seeing you like this. A sweaty, whiny mess with your only thought being your own climax. He was addicted to how you looked when you were like that. “So pretty when you’re desperate.”
“Yeah, you look good like this. Just so desperate for release.” He grunted, his grip on your hips growing tighter. “It’s so cute how you think only of yourself.” Satoru’s breath was growing more heavy, he could feel himself nearing his own release. “Can’t even ask about me, huh?” He teased, his smirk growing. “How selfish of you, princess.” He chuckled again before a moan escaped his lips. “I’m almost there, too, you know.”
You whined as you snuggled on his chest licking it "please come" you begged “There it is.” He said softly, almost lovingly. Satoru smiled as he looked down at you. “That’s what I wanted to hear, princess.” His hands moved up to your hair to pet it. “You sound so cute when you’re asking nicely.”
You gripped him mewling as you both camed "ah ahn T-toru"
His breath was shaky as he came. “Yeah” he whispered, his hands sliding up to hold you. “That’s it princess, that’s it.”
He knew what he was doing wasn’t right, that fucking his best friend was wrong. Yet he didn’t care. Satoru didn’t care if he was being selfish, as long as he had you in his arms.
“You did so good” he said gently as he pet your hair. “So, so good.” Satoru knew he should be gentle with you afterwards, as he usually was. You always got clingy, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love it.
You felt his cum around your walls "mhn you had a lot" you whined humming Satoru huffed a laugh at your words. “Yeah” he said gently. “Yeah I guess I did.” He always cum a lot, but he felt a bit embarrassed when you pointed it out. Though that thought was quickly replaced with a smirk. “Maybe you bring that out of me.”
"i know you need more Toru,you're still so hard i can feel it" you moved your hips in a circular motion moaning softly. A gasp escaped his lips as you talked, his hands grabbing onto your hips again. “You really are a tease, huh?” He grunted. Satoru was already hard, even after just finishing. He was trying to keep up his smirk, yet his moans were a dead giveaway of just how much that turned him on. “You’re a little minx, you know that?”
“You just love getting me all worked up, don’t you?” He said, his voice a little shaky. “Playing with fire, princess…” He groaned as you moved your hips. “I’m gonna have to spank you if you don’t stop.”
“Or” he continued. “I could just make you behave right now.” His hands moved over your body, stopping to grab at your sensitive spots. “I know how to make you behave when you don’t listen, princess.”
you whined as he rubbed a certain spot "mhnn Toru,dont do this to your best friend" you teased moaning “Don’t do what?” He asked, knowing exactly what he was doing. “Teasing you?” He smirked before rolling the two of you over, so Satoru was on top of you now. “Or are you hinting that we shouldn’t be doing this?”
He placed a hand on your stomach, his blue eyes looking right at you. “You love doing this with me, princess, I’m just giving you what you want…”
“Just like that” he whispered, his breath warm on your neck. “It’s a good thing we don’t have a meeting tomorrow, huh?” He teased as he started to move his hips with more force. They were going to be at this for a while, though he didn’t mind. Satoru rarely had any self control, and he definitely didn’t when it came to you.
“You have anywhere to be in the morning?” He asked, his eyes locking with yours. “I’m gonna be keeping you up for a while, princess…” "mhn n..no..im free tomoroww morning" you moaned softly holding the sheets “Good” he said, his lips finding your neck. He started to lick and bite at it, leaving behind marks. “I can keep you all to myself then.” He was already leaving hickies on you, wanting to make sure everyone knew you were his princess.
You whined as you felt closer again "Toru.." “Yeah, I know” he whispered back, his mouth up by your ear so you could hear him clearly. “I know you’re getting close again, princess.” Satoru’s hands moved back to your hips as he started moving his hips a bit faster.
“I can tell by how you’re holding the sheets.” He teased gently, his smirk still on his face. “You really are so needy, princess. So, so needy.”
“But you’re cute like that” he continued between his own moans. “I love how you need me, so I don’t mind spoiling you a bit.” Satoru knew he shouldn’t be treating you that way, but his selfishness was so strong. He’d do anything to get a whine out of you, anything at all.
“Come on, princess” he said, his voice a bit softer. “You’re close, I know it.” Satoru began to move a bit faster, feeling himself getting closer as well. “I know you’re getting there, princess.”
“Come on, let go” he whispered, his breaths getting a bit ragged. “Let go for me, princess. I know you can do it.” Satoru’s mouth moved to your neck, biting down a bit harder than before. He was starting to get less gentle with you, but he knew that’s how you liked it.
“There it is” he teased gently, noticing the way you were whining more. “So close, huh?” Satoru’s mouth continued to work on your neck, leaving behind more hickies in their wake. “I love it when you’re so desperate, princess.”
“Can’t even talk” he teased, “just a whiny mess, just like I like you.” Satoru was getting a bit rougher with his hands now, his grip on your hips getting tighter. “You just love being helpless for me, don’t you? Yeah, thought so.”
He started moving a bit harder and faster now, his own groans getting a bit louder. “I’m close too” he mumbled into your ear. “Can’t hold back for much longer, being like this with you.”
“Princess, I’m gonna….” He warned, his mouth still on your neck. “Gonna come….” Satoru’s hands squeezed at your hips a bit harder, as if he was trying to hold back the feeling.
“Do you want it inside?” He asked, his voice quieter now. “Or out?” Satoru honestly would have let you choose either way. He didn’t have a preference, he just wanted you to keep making those whiny little sounds.
“Gotta tell me princess” he added with a smirk. “I need to know where I’m putting this.” His hand moved up to your hair, his fingers tangling with it again. “Can’t decide by myself, can I?”
"Mhn inside" you phanted mewling gripping his back “Inside.” He repeated, his voice even quieter than before. A small shiver went through his body as you told him that, his hands squeezing at your waist a bit more. He didn’t move for a moment, just trying to regain his breath before nodding. “Yeah, okay princess.”
“Gonna fill you up, okay?” He said, his lips moving up to your ear. Satoru was already close, so he didn’t move for a moment until he was ready. “Can’t keep anything from you anymore, princess… You have me wrapped around your little finger.”
“You own me, princess” he whispered, his tone a bit shaky. “All for you, all mine, just like you’re all mine…” He started moving again, his mouth moving to your neck. He was starting to get a bit rougher, almost a bit more possessive of you.
Satoru groaned as he released inside you, his body shaking slightly. “Yeah….” He muttered, his mouth still near your neck. “There it is… good princess.” He leaned back, looking down at you with his blue eyes
“Look at you” he said, his own breath still shaky. “All whiny and messy…” Satoru looked down at your body, noticing how much of a wreck he’d made you. “I wonder if it’ll ever be enough for you… you’re always so unsatisfied.”
“You just want more and more…” he teased gently, his hand moving up to your hair. “My greedy princess…” Satoru let out a light chuckle as he continued to pet your hair.
A small smile spread across his face when you snuggled into his chest, an arm wrapping around you to pull you in closer. Satoru let out a small sigh, the hand in your hair still playing with it. “You’re so adorable, princess…” He whispered as he watched you fall asleep.
“You’re always so cute like this…” he muttered, mostly talking to himself at this point. His other hand moved down to your hip, where all the marks he’d left were. He felt the desire to leave more markings there tomorrow, claiming you all over again.
“You’re all mine” he whispered as he looked down at the marks all over your neck, as well as the hickies on your hip. There wasn’t a single part of your body that Satoru hadn’t marked up, claiming you as his every single time.
He sighed again and relaxed, his arms pulling you even closer to him. He loved falling asleep with you in his arms, knowing you were all his. He let his own eyes close, holding you tight as he fell asleep as well.
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marymary-diva17 · 8 months
Text
she my wife my wife
Tsu’tey x reader
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So when you decide to marry Tsu’tey you had thought your marriage with him will be good. As Tsu’tey is a wonderful husband he had accepted, your wishes of going between your avatar and human body. You had respect and honored Tsu’tey role in the clan was warrior and clan lifestyle. Even due Tsu’tey and many other Navi were coming, to understand their human mates or friends there were some stuff they had fully understand. 
Y/n “ ……..” you had waken up early in your mates home as, you need to get back to the human base for more oxygen packs. You soon removed your husband arms around you and got out of bed, making sure to cover your husband in the blanket.
y/n " okay just need to get to the human base and it will be good"
????? " yawne" you soon stopped dead in your tracks as your heard, tsu'tey your tall blue warrior husband had called you. It was dumb of you to think that you can get pass him and not him notice at all.
y/n " ........"
tsu'tey " I know you are up and not in bed with me anymore, so don't act like you can get pass me" you soon sighed knowing you were not going to win this game against him.
y/n " hello my husband" tsu'tey soon got up from the hammock and looked at you, he sighed before he bends down to look at you.
tsu'tey " where do you think you are going"
y/n " I need to get some extra oxygen mask I will run low by this afternoon"
tsu'tey " why most you get them and not later"
y/n " if I get them later I will forget it as we are always busy with stuff, and avatar body"
tsu'tey " well why don't you give up your human body and be navi for a day, and spend time with me and our family"
????? " wow dad trying to ask for a date with mom like that nice move" you and tsu'tey soon looked and saw spider standing there as avatar.
tsu'tey " oh hush boy"
spider " oh come on day I'm just playing around"
y/n " oh come on we can fight about this later on my husband, but I need to get these air packs for me and spider if we stay here as humans"
tsu'tey " okay I just worry"
y/n " there is nothing to worry about my husband" you had kissed tsu'tey check making him smile, the mighty warrior had never thought he will find love until he meant you. He also thought he will never have a family until you and him welcome spider into your family.
y/n " I will see you to later kiddo"
spider " yes mom see you later" you soon left the home and head off towards the human base, you were able to see there were enough oxygen packs for everyone and new ones being made as well.
max " hey there y/n it good to see you"
y/n " hey max"
norm " good you were here your avatar body is fixed and perfect for you to use again,if you wish to use your avatar body again"
y/n " I was just having a conversation about my avatar body with tsu'tey .... you know I will love to use my avatar body again"
max " good lets get you ready" you had nodded your head as you soon followed max and norm towards the avatar link bods. The team along with you had gotten everything ready and soon enough the process had happened.
y/n " wow it worked perfectly"
norm " good to see you in blue again"
y/n " happy to be back as my avatar I missed having times like this life with mask, all the times get tiring after a while" the two man laugh at your statement, and now you were back as navi walking around the base and helping around.
norm " I still can't believe you married or mated in navi terms with tsu'tey"
y/n " he a good husband and person he makes me happy"
norm " I still remember when grace found out you and tsu'tey were becoming closer then friends... oh she was so shocked"
y/n " oh yes I remember that day she said she was shocked that, I and tsu'tey were becoming so close then she had thought she even predicted that we will become a couple and she was right"
Scientist " hey none of us knew we will be making our lives here on pandora, and that some of us will become very close to the navi"
max " so should we be expecting you and tsu'tey to be having some kids, and have more avatar and navi kids running around here with Jake kids and spider"
Scientist 2 " that will be funny will they be like tsu'tey or be like you"
y/n " we have had the conversation of kids before so maybe"
max " well do what you want"
y/n " thank you max"
Scientist " hey quick question for you y/n"
y/n " sure"
Scientist " is your husband going to fight us or kill us" you soon looked and saw tsu'tey sitting on his dire horse he was glaring at, the humans that were so close to his mate.
Scientist 3 " if looks could kill we will be all dead"
Scientist 4 " I thought we were on friendly terms with the clan"
y/n " don't worry everyone he harmless"
Scientist " harmless are you sure"
y/n " yes when he not mad about something or fighting and hunting, but he very nice and respect you all"
Scientist " then why is he so mad"
norm " well I think he overprotective of you y/n navi are protective of their mates, and will chase or fight anyone who trying to steal their mate or cross some lines"
y/n " that my husband"
max " oh here comes your husband" tsu'tey had gotten off his dire horse and soon walked towards, you he soon wrapped a arm around you and looked at the others.
tsu'tey " I know you all her friends but if anyone here tries anything ... we are going to have some problems I hope you all understand well we will be leaving now" tsu'tey soon dragged you away as you looked at your friends some of them seem shocked and scared at the same time.
y/n " sorry" you had mounted sorry to them as they nodded their heads towards you, but soon stopped when tsu'tey looked back at them. Tsu'tey soon helped you onto his dire horse and soon took off making sure to spend the whole day with you.
y/n " you know you are cute when you are jealous"
tsu'tey " I'm not jealous I'm just defend my wife my wife that all" you soon laugh making tsu'tey look away but deep down he was smiling as well. Even due he could be overprotective at times he was still your husband and, you wouldn't change anything about it.
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mythicmanuscripts · 2 months
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hello!! first of all i must say i love all of your thoughts, headcanons and writings!! you are truly amazing.
i remember you mentioning aegon wanting to be on his knees for you and i cannot stop thinking about it. maybe reader punishes him by making him be on his knees and not touching him, but later realizes aegon likes being on his knees to much for it to be a punishment. i can imagine him with big teary eyes and pouty lips while looking up at you, letting his forehead drop to your knees, begging you to touch him.
Ooo brilliant idea! So I think that Aegon would love kneeling if you're close by? (Unlike Aemond who can kneel on the other side of the room quite happily) I'm gonna write punishing Aegon by telling him to kneel, then realising Aegon seems really distressed then going to him and comforting him and then he wants to stay kneeling cause kneeling with you right there is perfect. I hope that's alright anon! I just think this is a slightly better depiction that is more accurate to his character.
Anyway, this definitely has sub!aegon and quite a heavy amount of implied sexual content so I'll put a cut in just to be safe :))
So firstly, I mentioned quite a few times that I think Aegon needs rules and he needs to be punished. He absolutely thrives on routine and guidance and he needs to be punished when he breaks a rule. He just functions so much better when he knows he's being good for you and when he is punished when he isnt. If you don't punish him, he won't forgive himself and will just be all sad and weepy and won't even let himself touch you because he thinks he isn't good enough for that.
The first thing you try is pain, starting off with spanking as a punishment. But to your surprise, this ends up being much much much too intense. While Aegon absolutely LOVES being manhandled and treated harshly during sex, he can't handle it during punishments at all. He's much too vulnerable and desperate to please during punishments for any sort of pain or rough treatment. When he knows you're happy with him and he's pleasing you, then he loves being manhandled and slapped but he can't handle that when he thinks he's displeased you and is trying make amends.
So after the first few spanks you immediately stop. You pull him into your chest and kiss the top of his head, telling him that the punishment is over and he's forgiven. Once he's calmed down, you tell him you'll find a different punishment for him and he's so so thankful because he never wants pain to be a punishment again.
The next thing you suggest is kneeling quietly. It should come as a surprise to absolutely no one that Aegon is very needy and absolutely loves having your full attention. He'll get all whiny and pouty and make everyone's life hell when he misses you or feels that he's not getting enough attention. In all forms except physical, he is a cat pushing something off a table for attention.
Because of this, you think that kneeling by himself could be a great punishment because he wouldnt have your attention and he wouldnt be allowed to do anything to get your attention. You put a pillow down in the corner of the room and make Aegon kneel on the pillow facing the corner so that his back is to you and he can't see you. You promise him that you will stay in the room the entire time. You sit on the bed across the room and pick up your book. You tell him that he is to kneel and wait for you to tell him the punishment is over. You remind him of his safe words and that he must use them if needs and then start reading.
For the first few minutes things seem good. You look up every now and then see Aegon is still kneeling perfectly, his head bowed. After another 15 minutes or so, you look up to see that Aegon's shoulders are shaking. You wait another minute, watching closely to see if he stops and when he doesn't, you call out to him and ask if he's alright.
He's silent for a moment, before you hear him whisper, "Red."
Instantly you get up and go to him, pulling him against your chest and letting him hide in your neck. You tell him that he did so well and thank him for using his safe word when he needed to. He just clings to you for a bit while you rub his back.
You help him walk to the couch and pull him sideways into your lap, letting him settle before asking him what happened. He sniffles and he tells you that he liked kneeling, but not seeing or touching you was too much. He felt like you were abandoning him, and he only wanted to feel like you were still there.
You promise him you will never make him do that again, that you and him will find another punishment for him because no matter what he does, you will never ever abandon him and you don't want him to ever think that you have. He nods, and he kinda rocks against you for a moment before clinging even tighter to you and then he whispered that he liked the kneeling. Before he started to feel lonely, he liked it.
You ask if he think he would like it if you let him kneel right by you, maybe keeping a hand in his hair or cupping his cheek. You make it clear that it wouldn't be a punishment, but if he liked kneeling that you can always try it in a different environment.
In response to this, Aegon takes a pillow, drops it on the floor between your legs and then slides down the couch to be kneeling in front of you. Immediately you want to tell him to stop and to come sit on the couch with you because he's clearly still upset and you don't want to try something new with him without talking.
But then you look down and he just... he looks so settled? He's staring up at you with wide, teary eyes and leaning against your thigh. His kneeling position isnt perfect and straight backed like it was when you punished him. Instead he was hunched over, leaning against your body with his head on your thigh. His arms are folded in his lap, and he smiles when you move a hand down to play with his hair.
It's so so so different kneeling right with you. He feels so safe with you literally watching over him, playing with hair and praising him. Maybe you even grab a blanket and wrap it around his shoulders? He absolutely loves it then.
It becomes something you do regularly. When Aegon is feeling particularly needy and unsettled, you'll undress him down to his underclothes, wrap a blanket around his shoulders and then have him kneel on a pillow between your legs. He can lean against your thigh and you read a book while playing with his hair or cupping his cheek or just petting him anywhere you can reach. Sometimes he tells you about his day, sometimes he asks you to read to him, and sometimes he just kneels there and allows himself to relax.
You never let him kneel for too long because it can hurt his legs, so after about an hour or so you always make him stand up. He's all wobbly on his feet and aways floating away in subspace by then. You help him walk back to the bed and then, because he's such a little dramatic princess, you always give his legs a little massage and stretch them to get the blood flowing properly. It's a process that always leaves him all warm and giggly and soft.
When youre satisfied, you sit up against the bed board and he immediately dives into your arms. Sometimes he's turned on and you might do something, other times he's asleep in under a minute.
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jeankluv · 3 months
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I told you so- Utahime Iori
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summary: You and Utahime had a fleeting love affair when you were young, but tired of Utahime not being brave enough to admit your love or show it in public, you decided to leave. 10 years later you meet again and seeing her again only confirms that you are still in love with her.
paring: Utahime x fem!reader
tags: +18, angst, explicit smut content, oral sex, scissoring, mentions of gojohime(?), mentions of arranged marriages, mentions of satosugu, happy ending, no use of y/n, all characters are in their late 20s early 30s
words: 3k
notes: before pride month ended I needed to post this. I love Utahime sooooo much and I came up with this idea but I didn’t know if I should post it or not because there are not a lot of Utahime fics/one shots but I decided to give it a try. So everyone please enjoy. Also I still recovering, after hurting my shoulder but gladly it’s not my dominant arm so it’s fine 🤗
Jujutsu Kaisen materialist
You looked at her, trying to hold your breath and trying not to jump, but you were one second away from breaking down. But you couldn’t scream at her, not her.
“Listen.” Utahime spoke, holding the sheets against her chest.
“I get it.” You murmured. “For you this means nothing.”
“No!” Utahime shouted. “That’s not what…”
“Listen ‘Hime, I know you don’t want us to go out as a couple. I know for you it will be hard.” You turned around and grabbed your clothes. “But I can’t… I can’t keep going like this. I don’t want to call it off but we can’t keep going like that.” You looked at her. “I don’t want to be your secret.”
“Please just…” She tried to grab your hand.
“Utahime I think this is the best way.” You said, holding back your tears. Gathering courage, you looked into her eyes. “But Utahime, you can kiss a hundred boys in bars but I know you won’t be able to stop this feeling.” You said talking about what you felt whenever you were together. “So, good luck babe.”
You left the room, putting on the dress that you had taken off with so much haste and anxiety last night. You had gone from ecstasy, from the heat of each other, from the wet kisses of both of them and your bodies knowing each other perfectly to waking up that morning, facing the feelings you had had since high school, so that Utahime would tell you that your “love” could not get past those walls.
You knew that Utahime repressed those feelings out of fear, fear of many things. Fear of her family, of what they will say, fear of the looks. But you wanted to protect her, you wanted her to feel proud to walk with you down the street while you held your hands and showed your love. But that didn't seem to have worked and you were already too exhausted to continue fighting.
With giant steps you left the apartment without looking back. That day you not only lost the love of your life, but also one of your best friends and that destroyed your heart.
10 years later
Shoko had invited you to eat after you called her to tell her that you had returned to the city, now you were both happily eating in one of the many restaurants in the city.
“I missed this.” You said.
Shoko nodded with a smile. “Me too, it’s been so long. You left for college and have been out for how long?”
“10 years this year.” You shrugged.
“God.” Shoko gasped. “A lot of things have happened and changed since then.” She shook her head. “You probably don’t know, since you both fought but Utahime got married.”
You pursed your lips. "Oh really?" You faked a smile. "I'm happy for her."
Shoko never knew about your affair and you doubt Utahime would have told her. Even though it had been 10 years since you and Utahime had met, you couldn't deny that you were still completely in love with her. Of course in those 10 years you had had a partner, but none had ever filled you up like Utahime had done.
“You could fix whatever happened between you.” Shoko said, bringing you back to reality.
You shook your head. “I don't think it's possible.”
She sighed. “You really are the same.” She said in a whisper. “Anyways, are you coming to the party?”
You smiled. “Of course Shoko.”
The day of Shoko's party arrived and you opted for a tight dress, which highlighted your figure. Meeting the guests, you walked around the place with a smile, most of them were new faces that you didn't know, but there was the occasional face that seemed familiar to you and that had probably been a classmate of yours in high school, but you honestly didn't remember them.
After a while you went out to the balcony, looking for some air and tranquility away from all the noise of people.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes when you heard the balcony door open, your moment of peace over faster than you would have liked.
But then your name sounded behind you and you felt your heart skip a beat in your chest. Her sweet voice still sounded the same as it did ten years ago. With your heart in your throat you turned slowly, meeting those brown eyes. Utahime was in front of you 10 years later and she looked beautiful, if that were possible. Your heart began to beat strongly in your heart and you felt like you had no words left. You were still too in love with her.
“You are here.” She whispered.
You swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I… I came a few days ago and Shoko invited me.” You tried to put a smile on your face.
She nodded. “That’s great.”
It could have been 10 or 20 years but you knew her too well to know that her voice sounded hurt and that she was about to cry. You wanted to walk up to her and wrap her in your arms, but you couldn't, you shouldn't. It was then that your eyes landed on the ring resting on Utahime's left hand and a knot formed in your stomach.
“Shoko told me you got married.” You forced a smile. “I’m happy to hear that.”
Utahime looked at you. “Are you?” She whispered.
You swallowed and looked down. “Of course.”
“I know you are lying.” She said.
“And what do you want me to say Utahime?” You looked at her. “That I’m still in love with you? Well yes I am and seeing you standing here right in front of me and seeing how my whole body and soul reacts it’s only proof of that.”
You saw how Utahime’s chest rose and how her eyes looked at you with intensity. Your name being just a whisper on her lips she took a step forward. But soon enough she was interrupted by a male voice.
“Utahime, you are here.” The tall guy entered the balcony. “I was looking for you like crazy.”
You looked at the guy and then back at Utahime, you assumed it was her husband. Biting your lip, you coughed and the man stared at you.
“Oh, hi I didn’t see you there.” He smiled.
“No problem.” You shook your head with a smile.
“Satoru.” Utahime finally spoke. “She is a friend of mine.” She introduced you.
“Oh nice to meet you, I’m Utahime’s husband.” He greeted you with a smile and you felt a punch in the face as those words came from his mouth.
“Nice to meet you.” You faked your smile. “Now if you excuse me I need to leave.” You said passing by.
Without turning to look at her, you walked as fast as your feet could allow you, feeling how that knot in your stomach was getting bigger and bigger. Your gaze searched for Shoko and you saw her animatedly chatting with more people. Walking over to her, you grabbed her arm.
“I’m leaving.” You whispered to her ear.
“Already?” She said with a sad look.
“Yeah, tomorrow I have some stuff to do and I don’t want to oversleep.” You lied. “I will call you okay?” Shoko nodded and you walked out of that party.
Feeling how your heart was still pounding and at the same trying holding not to break up from that love.
Utahime Iori pov
Utahime rolled over once again on the bed. She hadn't been able to sleep since she and Satoru had arrived at the apartment. Sitting on the bed she clutched her head and sighed heavily.
Utahime rarely regretted things, but there was one thing he had been regretting for 10 years. And it had been not stopping when you walked out the door of her apartment that day. Because when you told her that that feeling that you loved and shared would never be repeated even if she kissed a hundred boys... oh how right you were.
I should have stopped you, told you that I loved you and that I would face anything for you. But Utahime was a coward and now she resented it.
Getting out of bed, she looked at the side of the bed and saw it empty, something that didn't surprise her in the least. She left the room and to her surprise she ran into him there.
“You are already back?” She whispered.
“I told you it was not going to take long.” He said back.
“Satoru you know, that I don’t mind if you spend the whole night with him.” Utahime crossed her arms and walked to the refrigerator.
“I know but since we are married.”
“You know our marriage is fake.” She said. “You don’t love me and I don’t love you.” Satoru looked at her. “Romantically, you know I do care for you.”
“Good.”
“You were a pain on my ass but now you are almost like my best friend.”
“Almost?” He said offended, Utahime rolled her eyes. “It was her?” Satoru then suddenly asked.
Utahime froze and nodded after a few seconds. “Yes…” She said with a thin voice.
“Utahime…” Satoru sighed and approached her. “You know we can always end all this show.”
“But our families…” She whispered.
Satoru laughed. “We are both CEOs of our families companies, we are not kids like back then.” Utahime looked at him. “I know you are not happy and we will never be happy in this fake marriage, we work well but there will never be that love between us. And you know that.” Utahime closed her eyes. “I saw how you looked at her and I have seen that look before.”
“Where?” She asked.
“It was the same look Suguru had when I told him I needed to marry you.” He sighed. “A gaze of logging mixed with a feeling of losing something dear to you.”
Utahime stifled a sigh and looked at Satoru. “I wanted to go after her.” She said with glassy eyes. “Tell her that I love her and love her then too. I wanted to go… but I'm a coward.”
“Don’t say that.” Satoru said. “If it wasn’t for you, I would have lost Suguru, it was thanks to you that I didn't give up and I don't know how many years may have passed for you but you still love her and…”
“She also told me that she still loved me.”
Satoru smiled. “So what are you waiting for, go get her.”
“Satoru, I don't even know where she is.”
“Call Shoko.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“It's 4 in the morning!” She protested.
“Come on try it.” He said. “How romantic would it be if you showed up at her door at 4 in the morning, confessed your love, and the two of you melted into a passionate kiss?”
“God you are unbearable.” Utahime rolled her eyes and dialed Shoko's number. “Shoko! Hello… yes I'm sorry but it's urgent.” She said with her heart fluttering. “I need you to give me an address.”
Your POV
A knock on your apartment door made you wake up. It was still dark outside and the clock on your phone didn't read past 4:30 in the morning. In silence you approached the door and looked through the camera to see who was the person who was knocking on your door with so much force. Your lips dried when you saw the figure on the other side. Taking a moment to breathe, you pinched your cheek, making sure you were awake.
With a trembling hand, you grabbed the knob and pulled it open. “Uta…”
“I love you.” Utahime said before you could ask anything. “I have always have. And I was a cowardly idiot for not stopping you that day. For letting you go.”
You looked at her and had to mentally remind yourself that she was real and that she was there. “No, you…” You shook your head.
Utahime said your name again and you looked at her. “I love you, I love you too much and… I don't want, I don't want to lose you, not again.”
“You are married.” You told her, shaking.
She shook her head. “It's not real. Satoru and I got married for our families but we don't love each other, we've never been together, we were just pretending.” She looked at you with her big brown eyes, which you were too weak for.
“But… your family.”
“I don’t care about them.” She said. “I only care about you, about us.”
You closed your eyes and held your breath. “I love you too.” You whispered.
Utahime walked towards you and cupped your face. “Let’s start over, let’s do it the right way, okay?” She smiled, the both of you were crying. “Satoru and I will go to the lawyer tomorrow to start with everything for the divorce.”
You nodded, whipping away her tears. “I missed you so much.”
Utahime smiled and knocked both of your lips in an urgent kiss, which mixed with the tears that you loved had shed. With clumsy steps you closed the front door and leaned Utahime against it, working your way into her neck, biting it and leaving it full of wet kisses while Utahime's soft moans delighted your ears.
Breaking away from her, you grabbed her hand and led her to your room. The dream you had a few minutes ago was completely gone and had been replaced by the urgency and desire to make love to the beautiful woman in front of you. You got rid of your pajamas and Utahime got rid of her clothes, leaving you both completely naked. Utahime lay down on the bed with a smile and you began to kiss her, first her lips, then her collarbone and then her breasts.
”You've only gotten more beautiful with time.” You whispered against her skin.
“Look who spoke.” Utahime said as she stifled a moan. “When I saw you in that tight black dress, I only had obscene thoughts.” She whispered.
“Oh yeah? Like what princess?” You said with a smile.
“I wanted to get down on my knees and devour you completely and have everyone hear you scream my name.” She said mischievously with a smile on her face.
“Well, it's a shame, because I'm going to be the one who devours you.” You said lifting her legs and placing them on each of your sides. “I hope my neighbors find out how good I make you feel tonight.”
You kissed her lower lips getting a moan in response from her and her hands on your hair, with your tongue you dug her hunt searching for her weak spot. She moaned your name, while she gasped with pleasure and writhed between your sheets while your tongue fucked her.
You looked at her through your eyelashes and smiled when you saw her, all red and full of pleasure. Her mouth was slightly opened and your name was constantly repeated.
You pushed your tongue into her faster, making sure to taste every part of her and making her feel in heaven.
“Oh fuck!” Utahime moaned, arching her back. “I missed you so much!”
With those words you began to suck her clit causing Utahime's moans to only increase. You wanted to taste her again, you wanted to have her like this forever, for her to be only yours.
Her walls tightened around you, she was close you could feel it, you knew her too well. Her moans became increasingly high-pitched and the atmosphere in the room became increasingly hot. With a loud moan she came, her head falling back, seeking to catch her breath.
You turned your head away from her and licked your lips tasting her with a smile.
“That was…” She said with a cracked voice.
“I know.” You smirked, sitting on the bed you grabbed Utahime by the hip and sat her down as well. “You don't think I'm done, do you?”
"I did not expect it." She answered.
Getting into position, you began scissoring, grinding harder and harder against each other. You both started to kiss while the room filled with noises of your moans and the sound of that old bed.
Grinding faster with each passing moment you felt how your body was starting to tremble. You ground your hips into Utahime's as your intimacies collided, sending shockwaves through your sweaty, desire-filled bodies. Grinding your pussies together for a little longer, you both came with a long, agonizing moan that filled the room, which then fell completely silent. Only your labored breaths were audible.
You grabbed Utahime's hips and laid her down, wrapping your arms around her. You felt her pulse and her warmth invading your body and her smell of flowers hit your nose.
Utahime turned to look at you and smiled. “Thank you for not giving up on us.”
You shook your head with a smile being drawn on your face. “I could never give up on us.”
Utahime chuckled softly and your grip tightened around her. “I love you.” She whispered.
“Me too.” You whispered, planting a kiss on her forehead.
“I feel like I'm forgetting something.” Utahime whispered.
“I'm sure it doesn't matter, now let's sleep.” She hummed in response.
And so with your bodies intertwined with each other and feeling your warmth and your heart pumping, you fell into a deep sleep.
———
Extra scene
“It’s been 30 minutes, you think she was able to talk with her?” He said. “Or maybe should I go and check that she is not there crying in the hallway?”
A sighed came from the other side of the line. “Satoru… they are probably having makeup sex.”
“Oh.” Satoru gasped. “You think so Suguru? Oh that will be awesome! There could be two weddings soon.”
“Two weddings?”
“Of course, you and me and them.”
“I don’t see a ring on my finger Satoru.”
Satoru turned the car on and started driving. “Well Suguru, give me 10 minutes and I will be on one knee asking you to marry me, if you want me to be on both knees to do other things we also can.”
Suguru chuckled. “I will be waiting.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
192 notes · View notes
hughiecampbelle · 2 months
Text
Cornered (Homelander Oneshot)
Character/s: Homelander
Word Count: 1,645
Requested: Hi! Can I request Homelander x reader with the prompts “Engagement” and “I missed you”? I haven’t requested anything from anyone in awhile so I hope I’m doing this right 😆 - anon
A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long my love! Writing fics has been especially hard lately. I have so many great requests, so many good ideas, but I hate everything I write and I just don't want to post something I'm unhappy with. I'm still not 100% over this, but rewriting it over and over just ends up making it worse unfortunately 😅 Writers block is so frustrating and makes me feel awful. Thank you for being so patient and I really hope you like it!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜
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I missed you. His room is completely destroyed. Mirrors shattered, statues broken, furniture in flames. And he stands in the middle, perfectly untouched, unphased, arms stretched outward. He expects a hug. He expects a lot of things. You step over the debris, inhaling the scent of smoke, of burning, mazing through the mess towards him. It’s too quiet. Aside from the crackling of the fire, it eats through the fabric, the stuffing of the couch, you could hear a pin drop. This place had always been eerie, but it was downright frightening. His smile is wide, unfaltering. He wraps himself around you, his hand raising to cradle the back of your head, pressing you into him. He never learned to be gentle. He never learned to hug someone like he likes them. He does it out of ownership, control. He does it so that you cannot fight back. You squeeze your eyes shut, imagining a different life, a different love, anything but this. Your arms stay still at your side. I missed you so much, he says again as a sign in relief. He doesn’t wait for you to respond. He’s learned, over the years, that conversations like this lack a back and forth. They are one sided. He talks to himself. Sometimes he’s okay with it. Sometimes he’s not. At this moment, he is the latter. I missed you so much. Is he talking to himself? Responding to himself? Is he trying to comfort himself? Did you miss me? This is a test. Unable to speak, to find your voice, you nod. You make sure he can feel you do this. Good, he smiles, that's good. You did good. You passed. This time. 
It’s hard to remember a time before this. There was a childhood. An adolescence. Young adulthood. There had to be. People didn’t just wake up one day, existing instantaneously. You had to have had a family, friends, some sort of education. There are glimpses of that, of a person who lived, who looked like you, who is long gone. A best friend you shared crayons with. Maybe they were colored pencils. All you see is the colors, the dimpled hands of small children grabbing greedily at the cyan blue or cherry red. You don’t know what you were drawing, or who this other person was, only that, for a few seconds at least, you had a friend. Someone who cared about you, perhaps even loved you. There is a car ride. You’re big enough to sit in the passenger seat. It’s bright outside, green, probably Spring. The window is cracked open, the breeze kissing your face, the sunlight beaming down through the branches of the tree lined street. A feminine voice is talking to you. Her words are muffled, her tone malleable. Sometimes she sounds happy, on the verge of laughter. Other times she’s annoyed, frustrated. The scenery never changes. It is always nice out. It was always warm. You like to think of her as your mother. A maternal figure concerned for your safety, pleasantly surprised about a good grade, tired of your attitude. You’d take it all, needy for validation. A father, you’re sure, slamming a door. There’s a suitcase on the floor, between you. You’re not sure who takes ownership over it. There is yelling, a language you don’t recognize. He vibrates, his anger cartoonish. What did you do to deserve this? Are you leaving or is he? You’re older than you were in the car ride. You’re not sure how you know, only that you do. There is no beginning or end, just snippets of the middle. How does this play out, you wonder. You could come up with a story. He’s leaving and you’re trying to stop him. You’re leaving and he’s trying to stop you. You’re not sure which is better. 
There are glimpses of the past. Yours, you assume, though the line between reality and fantasy has long been gone, worn away with time and desperation. A taste of normalcy. You imagine you lived in a small town in the middle of the country, somewhere bleak and boring, somewhere you could have been extraordinary. You imagine a child version of yourself dreaming of this future down to the last detail. You wake up each morning in his bed, in his place, at the top of the tower. For a few cloudy seconds you view this world from the perspective of a stranger: there is an engagement ring on your finger, the space beside you in the bed is empty, the room you occupy is grand and expensive looking. The person who lives here, who found love, who has everything they could ever want, should be happy, right? And then, like a slap across the cheek, stinging, it hits you: you are that person. So why aren’t you happy? Isn’t this what you wanted? Isn’t this what you asked for? Dreamed of? 
The haze ends your first weeks after joining The Seven. Reporters, cameras flashing, overwhelmed by voices and snapshots and microphones. You smile, doing your best to hear a question between the mumbling of the crowds. A hand pulls you through the chaos, leading you to salvation. Safely inside, he laughs, congratulating you. There’s a light in his eyes that is warm, safe. You can’t believe he’s giving you attention, let alone complimenting you. You thank him. He’s there again, behind you, a hand on your shoulder. It was reassuring at the time, a way to show solidarity between veteran and rookie heroes. Your voice shakes, fear and anxiety radiating through you. You’d never had your own press conference before. It was after a big save, though. Everyone stood back, letting you in the limelight. You debuted a new suit, a new identity, letting your name fade away. Even now it sounds alien to you. The person you were and the person you are are disconnected, isolated. It’s been years since you’ve heard someone say it. Hearing it in passing is no longer startling, it no longer grabs your attention. It’s lost all meaning. 
This was years ago. You were still fresh faced. His touch was new, exciting. His affections were innocent, friendly. This world was bright and shiny. It’s lost its excitement. It’s lost its appeal. The warmth in his eyes turned hot, burning, furious. The last time you fought they glowed red, a warning that he was not fucking around. How long ago was that? Weeks, maybe months. You’ve been good. You do as you’re told. You smile when you need to. You kiss him. You pose. You show off your ring. The story was breaking news, running through the cycle the past few days: Homelander popped the question and you said yes! You don’t recognize yourself in the interviews. You don’t recognize him either. You’re happy, laughing easily, talking about wedding plans. The interviewer, a woman with lipstick on her teeth, asks about the future. Oh, you say. The mask slips. You hadn’t thought about the future. Years now you spent getting through the moment, the minute. You didn’t have it in you to think ahead. You couldn’t. You knew what it looked like, what he’d want from you, what you’d have to give up. Not just a name or a past. That was easy. That’s what you thought you wanted. This was a lifetime. A lifetime of fear, threats, and silence. Oh, you say, and it all comes at once, the realizations wrapping their hands around your throat. He squeezes your hand, talking for the both of you, filling the silence like a pro. She turns her attention towards him, recovering quickly. No one even noticed.  It’s better today. You dress. You sit through meetings. You disappear into the background, watching everyone instead of being part of it. You don’t think too much. You’re not overwhelmed by the idea of raising his children, of spending your time secluded with him, in his shadow. You’re not disgusted by the ring on your finger or the way he kisses you. The bruises strategically placed where fabric covers do not ache as bad as they did yesterday. It’s better today. It’s manageable. Ashley goes over the next few weeks: wedding planning, florists, musicians, guests, wardrobe, cake tasting. There was so much, and yet so much was missing. A mother to cry. A father to walk you down the aisle. Friends. She wanted every part of this decision making televised. It would be the wedding of the century. She goes down the list and you only have it in you to nod. Where was Homelander? Why wasn’t he being bombarded by color palettes and types of icing and venues? It wasn’t really up to you, anyways. You could pretend. You could make decisions: a lighter palette by the ocean with raspberry cake and vanilla frosting. You could plan it all, but he would always have final say. She’s still talking, going on and on about how you’ll wear your hair and the amount of cameras, who is and isn’t allowed to drink, but you’re not really listening. You’re sinking back into the chair. You’re taking it one breath at a time. In, out. Maybe there was a before. Before him, before all this, but it’s long gone. From the moment he saw you he knew you would be his. You would do as you were told. You would follow orders. And in return, you would lose yourself. Yeah that sounds good, you say, though you’re not really listening. You’re far away from yourself, the room, the world. It was better today. The weight of what’s happened. The more she speaks, the greater the feeling becomes: dread blossoming in the middle of your chest. You were trapped. You could scream and cry all you wanted, this place was a cage and Homelander held the key. 
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localplaguenurse · 3 months
Note
(Puts cracker in your mouth)
I am eating your blind reader right outta the pot and I was struck with a singular thought that hasn’t left my mind
What if when reader bumped into pants he ruined pants’ clothing in some kinda way (spilled drink/smeared ink from hands/food being smeared on etc)
For context: I was brainstorming a future fic starring a blind reader in discord.
You know what? It's not going in the current version so I'm writing this version here. Consider this a part one to the actual fic. (sorry beta)
Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone x Male Reader)
Notes: SFW, first meetings, Pantalone's kind of a dick, and so is Reader's dad. Reader has retinitis pigmentosa which is a genetic condition that causes your retinas to deteriorate over time. He has central vision but also experiences night blindness and loss of peripheral vision. Not beta read.
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The sounds of merriment echo through the halls of your family estate, the clicks and clacks of your typewriter unable to drown the sound out as you work. The noises grow louder once the band kicks in, and grow louder still once dinner is served. The smell of fresh food does not travel to your study like the music and laughter did, this section of the manor is a little too remote for that, but you know with the chime of the clock on your wall that this is when it should be brought out.
While not an outright demand, your father had advised you wait in your office for a servant to bring you a helping. Your mother protested, saying there were plenty of people who would love to meet her darling sweetheart of a son, there's no need for you to stay cooped up in your study! You gently reassured her that it was fine, really. The deadline for your novel's first draft is coming up soon, so you really should focus on finishing it as soon as you can. Besides, there is some rather elite company attending the party, and you know your father does not want to risk you making a fool of yourself, and also him by association.
Time ticked on, and your stomach growled, breaking the concentration you barely maintained on writing. You look up, right at the spot on the wall where the clock is. While you can't really see the time at this distance, you know the staff should have brought you your helping some time ago. You sigh, and stand.
You don't dislike parties, you think you enjoy them as much as the next person actually. The problem is that you don't like large, crowded parties due to your condition. Your central vision is perfectly fine, but you've been steadily losing your peripheral vision ever since you were little. It's been especially bad the past few years, to the point you will trip over anything that is not directly in front of you, like furniture and people. When your parents throw elaborate parties or host networking events, your father will suggest you stay up in your room or your study (to avoid any blunders as a result of not seeing the millionaire standing right beside you). While you know there is good meaning behind it, it feels isolating, even a little patronizing at times.
Even if the darkness of the hallway renders you completely blind, you've walked down it enough times you do not worry about tripping. Hand on the railing, you make your way down the stairs, and the light of the estate grows brighter with each step you take down. Before you fully descend, you let your eyes scan the room to try and make a mental map of where everyone is to avoid bumping into anyone on your way.
You barely make it to the ground before you feel a familiar presence and smell a familiar blend of cologne and champagne on your right. You're glad you can't see out of the corner of your eyes because you know exactly what face your father is making right now. You know he's not happy to see you downstairs before he even speaks.
"I thought you were working on your manuscript?" he asks, the accusatory tone in his voice on the more subtle side.
You shrug. "I wanted something to eat."
"Colleen was supposed to bring you your food," your father retorts.
"If she did, I wouldn't have come downstairs, would I?"
Your father scoffs. "Look, just go back upstairs, and I'll talk to Colleen."
A second voice chimes in, softer and sweeter. Your mother. "Oh, sweetie!" Her face comes into view, and she seems happy to see you. "Are you done your manuscript already?"
"Colleen didn't bring him his food, apparently," your father says.
Your mom turns her head in the direction of your father's voice. "Dear, Colleen left early, remember? Wasn't feeling well? She said Adelaide was supposed to bring him his food." "That's a lie, I haven't seen Adelaide at all tonight!"
You raise a hand. "Or, or, I'm an adult who knows where the kitchen is and can get my own serving?"
Your mother cups your face in her hands. "No no, we'll get you something, unless you're here to socialize as well? I was just talking to this woman, she has a daughter about your age-"
"I'm just going to get my food," you quickly cut in, "maybe I'll play matchmaker next time, but I just want something to eat and then I'll get back to work."
"Let the staff get it," your father tells you.
You pull away from your mother and turn to glare at your father. "It's fine. I can get it myself."
You step around your parents but feel your mom clasp your arm. "You father just-"
"Doesn't want me bumping into people, I know, and I won't."
You take two steps before your left side slams right into a passing partygoer. You stumble and hit the ground, while whoever you bumped into manages to maintain their footing. Glass breaks, and when you hit the ground you feel wetness soaking the back of your shirt and the front as well. You hear your mother gasp, and the room goes silent. Even the band has paused their playing, and you can feel the eyes of the room on you.
"What is wrong with you?"
While the man's voice is melodic, it only serves to make your face burn hotter with embarrassment. This is why your dad doesn't invite you to join them at parties, you remind yourself. When you do not immediately answer the question, opting to instead push yourself up, the man continues to chastise you.
"Do you have any idea how much this suit cost? How much it's going to cost to have it properly cleaned?"
You roll over so you're sitting up. Red stains your shirt. "Sorry, I-I didn't see you there."
"Clearly! How painfully unobservant do you have to be to not see me coming through? I was right next to you!"
You drag your gaze up the man's body, as he takes up the entirety of your eyesight. Everything he wears looks designer, and as you take in his shoes, his dress pants, you make it to his suit jacket and shirt. He's wearing black with hints of indigos and dark blues, but the wine stain is still very visible on his chest. Your eyes continue, and you see a snarling, but handsome, but still very angry face. You don't recognize him from the long black hair, the glasses with the bedazzled chain, or the shine of his eyes. You recognize him from the pin on his lapel. At this distance you recognize the Fatui symbol, and your face blanches.
You just ran into a Harbinger.
You hear the footsteps of your father approach. "M-Mister Regrator, I am so, so sorry for my son's actions, I-I'm sure that's a very expensive suit and I am deeply sorry."
The Regrator does not take his eyes off of you. "Yes. Very expensive. Expensive even for you."
"I-I swear, I'm sorry," you stammer, "I didn't see you, I really didn't see you there, I-I-"
You feel your father pull you up by the arm. "I already told you to go upstairs."
Pantalone watches as your father drags you away. You only protest a little before accepting defeat as you are pulled up the stairs. He feels the scowl on his face worsen when your mother approaches with the most desperate and pitiful expression he thinks he's ever seen a woman of her standing wear.
"Are you alright, my lord?" she asks timidly.
Pantalone takes a step back as a maid comes over to clean up the broken glass. "I'm fine, thank you."
"I am so sorry about that, if you'd like, w-we can have our staff clean your suit for you."
"This material is incredibly expensive and difficult to thoroughly wash," Pantalone states, "I highly doubt your staff would know how to clean it."
The woman looks down, embarrassed. "A-Ah, I see..." She looks back up at him, her expression somehow more pitiful than before. "Please, forgive my son, it was an accident, truly. H-He didn't see you there."
"Oh, I know," Pantalone replies, grinning harshly at the woman, "I'm just surprised at how unobservant someone can be, it's almost impressive."
The woman bites her lip, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. Still, she clears her throat, though she does not meet the Regrator's eyes. "M-My son is going blind."
Somehow the room goes quieter.
Pantalone stares at the woman as the words echo in his mind. He blinks, and his expression dulls a little. "Your son is what?"
"Going blind." She lifts her head up a little bit. "It's a genetic condition, m-my father had it as well. He's been losing his eyesight little by little ever since he was a boy. The doctor at his last appointment s-said he's lost most if not all peripheral vision now."
Pantalone can feel the wine begin to soak through to his shirt now. His eyes scan the room, and the guests are clearly pretending they're not listening to the conversation. He turns to the woman, his voice displeased but noticeably softer. "So the, ah, 'unobservant' assumption..."
"He truly did not see you," the woman reiterates, "I-I can't speak for him, of course, but if he's anything like how my father was at his age, he cannot see anything unless it is directly in front of him."
Pantalone clicks his tongue. "Is that so?"
The woman nods. Silence fills the room for a few moments, and then Pantalone sighs.
"In any case, I have to leave," he says, "I do not have a change of clothes, and I really should have this cleaned as soon as possible."
"A-Apologies again, Lord Pantalone..."
Your mother watches Pantalone as he leaves, praying to any Archon who will hear her plea that perhaps the Regrator will take pity on you on account of your condition. She also mentally curses your father for even inviting the man over. Sure, things have been getting a little shaky financially for your family, but getting buddy-buddy with a Harbinger can't be worth it, can it? They're an unsavoury lot she doesn't want around, especially around you.
Your father is already in a foul mood when he comes back downstairs, having lectured you for literally blindly running into Pantalone. The two had plans to work together, after all, so that spectacle could have completely cost the family any chance at maintaining the dwindling fortune. He becomes more upset with your mother when he finds the Regrator has left already, sparking an argument that finally kills the party, leaving the guests to awkwardly mingle before finally leaving hours before the party is set to end.
Your father does not talk to you for a few days. Your mother offers smiles and reassurance that everything will be fine, but the spats echoing down the hall lead you to believe otherwise. You attempt to tune out the building stress in your household and focus on your work, but it's in vain. In the quiet moments between replacing the paper in the typewriter, or when you cannot figure out how a scene is meant to play out, you briefly picture the Regrator's face and feel your face burn up again. Is it anger? Embarrassment? A little bit of attraction? Yes, probably.
The tension in the house reaches a boiling point when a letter sealed with the Regrator's insignia is delivered to the estate.
"You're paying for the suit, boy," your father snaps, figure barely visible as he paces the drawing room lit only by the fireplace.
"W-We don't know if that's what the letter is," your mother remarks, "and he doesn't have enough to cover for it."
"That's the worst part! We would have to cover the majority of it!"
"Can you just open the fucking envelope?!" you finally snap.
Your father advances towards you from the darkness, suddenly right in front of you. "Don't you speak to me like that when this is your fault!"
Both of you flinch when your mother all but rips the envelope from your father's hands. She steps just out of your line of vision, and you hear the ripping sound of the envelope. After a few moments, she lets out a loud sigh of relief.
"He's apologizing and forgiving us for the misunderstanding," your mother says, "though he, ah, he does want us to split the cleaning costs..." You hear the flutter of paper, and she absentmindedly steps forward as she reads the letter. "Oh, j-just for the shirt. That is... oof, that's still a little much..."
You sigh. "I should have enough money saved. Might have to put off moving out for a little longer, though."
"Oh, don't be so down!" your mother awkwardly laughs. "We don't mind having you here a little longer. It gives me peace of mind knowing you're safe! And there are o better doctors out there than in Snezhnaya!"
Your dad has disappeared out of view, but you can still feel his stare. You don't think he's as thrilled as your mother is, but it's better than him paying the full cost of Pantalone's dry cleaning. You wonder if there's anything in the letter stating if he'll still work with your father, and if that means you'll have to see him again before you eventually move. You hope you never see him out of sheer embarrassment, but a part of you wants to. It would be nice to remember a more cheery expression on his handsome face before the day your central vision finally leaves you.
159 notes · View notes
rafeslutz · 3 months
Text
break up, make up.
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— rafe cameron x maybank reader
— word count: 1k
— warnings: toxic!rafe, naive!reader, fingering, unprotected sex, praising, degrading, slight choking, daddy kink, bathroom at a party, orgasm denial. (if i forgot anything lmk!)
"can we talk?" your voice was barely a whisper as you looked up at rafe, swallowing the lump in your throat. the boy turned to look at you, slightly nodding before turning around again. "we can, but not here." It was always the same with Rafe, he spent time with you but he hated to be seen with you. especially at partys. you were a maybank after all. and a pouge – obviously. you let out a small sigh, feeling his grip on your wrist as he pulled you upstairs into the hallway.
"can you tell me why you're acting like an asshole towards me?" you had enough of rafe treating you like some sort of a toy. "acting like an asshole? i'm not even doing anything, y/n." he shook his head in amusement which made you even angrier. even now he couldn't take it serious. "you're fucked up, rafe. you're telling me that you like me and that you wanna be with me, but at the end of the day you don't want to be seen with me. not even talking is alright. What the hell is wrong with you?" yoi noticed how his smirk dropped at your words, clearly he wasn't happy with everything you were saying. "and to make it worse, you're always making out with other girls in front of me. how sick in the head are—." your voice was cut off by him slamming you against the nearest wall. "can you shut the fuck up? all you do is complain. where's that attitude coming from, pretty girl, huh?" you bit down onto your lip, breath hitching in your throat. "aren't you scared that someone could see us right now? i thought that's the only thing you care about." after everything you still found the courage to talk to him like this. "let them see how pretty you look while being ruined by me. how pretty you sound."
he took your hand and dragged you into the bathroom, quickly locking the door behind you two. "i don't like the way you're talking to me, baby. gotta fuck that attitude out of you." he pushed you against the wall, lips finding yours in a heated kiss. the fight was forgotten as all you could think about in that moment was him. he grabbed your thighs, hoisting you up into his arms before sitting you down onto the sink. "such a dumb little bunny for thinking that you could talk to me like that." you felt his fingertips run up your thighs, inching closer to your panties. a small whimper escaped his lips when he let his fingers run over the soft material, smirking down at you. "already soaked for me, huh? my little slut is so desperate for me, isn't she?" he moved your panties to the side, waiting for your answer. the only thing you could do was to nod as an answer — your head was already spinning. you felt his other hand wrap around your throat which made you gasp. "use your words, pretty girl or you won't get to cum tonight." for a second you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling his fingers draw small eight's on your clit. "shit— yes yes! so desperate for you, daddy. please make me feel good." he smiled up at you, slowly releasing his grip he had on your throat. "good girl."
he slipped two of his fingers inside you, setting a fast pace. your hands flew to his shoulders, holding onto him tightly. "feels so good." you whimpered, moans getting louder as he curled his fingers to hit your g-spot perfectly. you could feel your orgasm approaching you and he definitely could feel you clenching around his fingers. "are you close for me, baby girl?" he asked, moving his fingers even faster inside of you. you nodded, pulling him closer to you if possible. "yes yes yes, 'm so close." he continued moving his fingers for a few more seconds before pulling them out which made you look at him in disbelief.
"want you to cum around my dick, sweetheart." he pulled down his pants, pulled you closer to the edge before grabbing your hair with one hand. "i'm gonna fuck you so good that you won't be able to walk for days." without any warning the slammed into you, pushing his whole length into your pussy. you let out a loud whimper, tears forming in your eyes as he started moving inside you. "no no no, don't cry, pretty girl. you gotta learn your lesson, means you'll be a good girl and take my dick, alright?" he pulled your head back, lips attaching to your neck to suck deep, purple hickeys into your skin. "right?" he repeated while biting in your skin. "right!" you choked out, eyes closing for a second as he pulled away. his pace increased, his other hand holding onto your hip which you were sure would leave some bruises as well. not that you'd mind. "i– i need to cum so badly, rafe please." he let out a small grunt, shaking his head while pounding harder into you.
"not yet, bunny. hold it." you bit your lip, not knowing if you could. but you tried to hold yourself back, fingernails digging into his shoulders out of frustration. he kept moving at a fast pace, his hand letting go of your hair to wrap around your throat again. "look at me, baby." you moved your head to look at him, seeing the faint smirk on his face. "looking so pretty while I fuck you senselessly. fuck - i'm gonna cum so deep inside of you. do you want me to cum deep inside of your pretty, little pussy?" you felt the tears running down your cheeks, head nodding quickly. "please, need your cum, daddy." he shook his head, capturing your lips in a quick kiss. "such a dirty mouth." he burried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing heavily against your skin. "so tight for me, shit i'm gonna cum. cum with me, sweet girl. cum for me." that was everything you needed to hear to send you over the edge. you moaned out his name, digging your nails more into his skin as you could feel him groan against your neck. you closed your eyes when you felt him cumming deep inside of you which made you whimper once more. you two stayed like this for a while before he slowly pulled out.
"i hope you learned that you shouldn't be talking back to me."
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otomehoneyybearr · 4 months
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The Beast's Love is Unstoppable
Kagari's Story MDNI please!
This is the script version of the story. The lovely @caffedrine posted amazing summaries of Kagari, Matias and Azel's story! Please check them out (≧◡≦) ♡! Thank you!
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Today’s the day Kagari will be coming to Rhodolite.
There’s still a few hours until our meetup, so to calm my excited heart, I went out, but then—
Kagari: "Princess, I've finally found you."
Emma: "K-Kagari!?"
My eyes widen at the sight of him as I was dragged into an alley and pinned against a wall.
Our long-awaited reunion was unexpectedly sudden, and my surprise outweighed my joy.
Emma: "You came much earlier than the scheduled time."
Kagari: "I wanted to see your face, even if it was one second sooner."
(So Kagari felt the same way.)
Emma: "I've been restless wanting to see you too."
As he caressed my cheek, a warm feeling spread in the center of my chest.
(As much as I want to savor this reunion.)
(Right now, taking him home is my top priority.)
Kagari "...Princess."
(…!)
Suddenly, his perfectly handsome face came close enough that I could feel his breath...
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Kagari: "Finally, I get to be with you. Hold me as tight as you can."
(I was too late… No, I think he was already like this.)
Before I knew it, there was a thick, syrupy heat in his emerald eyes, and alarms started going off in my head.
Dealing with this needy general outdoors is akin to fighting a losing battle.
Emma: "Of course, I'll give you plenty of hugs and kisses. Now, let's head home."
Kagari: "I've had enough of holding back. Now is fine."
Emma: "Please just hold off on... Ah..."
Ignoring my plea, Kagari entwines his legs with mine as he presses his body against me and starts to kiss my forehead, cheeks, and neck without reservation.
I struggled desperately to escape, but he didn't budge. Needless to say, my resistance only encouraged him more.
Kagari: "Your heart is pounding so hard and your body is so warm... It’s adorable how you're so conscious of me, Princess."
Emma: "It's not because I'm conscious, it’s just because you’re coming on so strong—ah, please don't bite too hard..."
Kagari: "I'm being a good boy, so I won't leave any marks.”
Emma: "Doing this outside makes you a bad boy...!"
(It seems like the disliking for doing this outside doesn’t apply to the current Kagari.)
While enduring frustrating stimulation, I desperately searched for words to break free from this situation.
Emma: "I want to be alone with you without anyone interrupting, so please wait until we get home!"
Kagari: "To be alone with me, huh…? I'd like that."
The sparkle of anticipation I saw in his emerald eyes wasn't just my imagination.
Kagari: "You won't go back on your words, will you?"
Emma: "..."
Kagari: "Princess."
Emma: “I… I won’t."
As if urging me for an answer, he nibbles on my neck, and I nod repeatedly...
Kagari swept me up in his arms and dashed towards my house at a terrifying speed.
.....
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Kagari: "Ah, I love you... Without you, Princess, I'd be left with nothing but killing people."
(Well that’s alarming... But what's scarier is that it doesn't seem like a joke.)
Kagari: "Princess, you're loosening your grip."
Emma: "Oh, sorry."
As I readjusted my arms, I ran my fingers through his red hair, and he, much like an affectionate beast, nuzzled into my neck.
For the past few hours since we arrived home, I had been sitting on Kagari's lap on the bed.
As expected, our time apart seemed to have turned him into quite the needy general.
(No matter how many times I see it, this behavior is always such a stark contrast to his usual self that it baffles my mind.)
Emma: "Isn't it uncomfortable to have me on your lap for so long?"
Kagari: "Not at all. In fact, I've been wanting to do this."
Kagari: "Your warmth, heartbeat, weight, scent, texture, touch... It’s all of you. Having you here with me."
(He looks so happy.)
(But since I've invited him into my home, I should start offering some hospitality. And if possible, prepare dinner too...)
As I gently moved my hand from around his back, he held onto me tighter, as if unwilling to let go.
Looking up at me with his face buried in my chest, it was clear how much he yearned for this.
Kagari: "No, I still want to hold you. Please, don't leave me."
Emma: "I'm just going to get the tea and dorayaki I prepared."
Kagari: "As tempting as the tea and dorayaki sound, right now, I just want your attention, Princess."
Kagari: "Are you going to leave even when your kitty is purring so contentedly?"
Kagari: "Your kitty can be quite a handful when he’s sulky, you know."
(I... I'm well aware.)
I still vividly remember the time when I got so engrossed in reading that I ended up ignoring Kagari.
…Only to be kept in bed the next day, unable to get up due to his overwhelming affection.
(At least if I get the dorayaki—)
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Kagari: "Please dote on me... I'm begging you, Princess."
(Welp, there goes that plan...)
Under the rain of pleading kisses, my lips naturally part, tickled only in the most vulnerable spots inside my mouth.
His eyes and voice were so sweet they almost made me feel dizzy, and my resolve wavered...
Emma: "...Just a little longer, okay?"
Kagari: "I love you, Princess."
Seeing his smile, overflowing with affection, made me realize I could never truly win against him.
Suddenly, the hand that had been around my waist moved to my head, gently stroking my hair as if combing it.
It was unexpectedly soothing, and I tilted my head in response.
Emma: "Um, what is this?"
Kagari: "Turning the tables. You could also say I’m returning the favor."
Kagari: “I must have made you feel lonely while we were apart.”
Kagari: "That’s why this time, I’ll be the one to dote on you, Princess."
Pulling me closer, he embraces me and resumes stroking my head.
Kagari’s hand moved downward, gently patting my back in a soothing rhythm.
(Being pampered like this feels a bit embarrassing.)
(But somehow, it’s also comforting. Maybe because it’s Kagari doing it.)
(…I was pretending to be fine, but I was actually feeling really lonely.)
Unable to resist the realization of my own feelings, I buried my face into Kagari's neck.
Kagari: "You're just as needy as I am, Princess."
Emma: "I don't think so."
Kagari: "Is that so? Maybe you’re also just as clueless as me."
Emma: "Ah, it tickles!"
Kagari: "...is that all it does?"
Emma: "Huh...?"
(Come to think of it... His touch feels different…)
His previously indulgent hand had somehow slipped off its gloves, boldly trailing up my thigh and slipping beneath my skirt.
The moment I felt the warmth through my underwear, alarms went off in my head once more.
Where did the gentleness from earlier go?
Emma: "Ah, Kagari...if you keep this up, it won’t be ‘just a little longer’."
Kagari: "I know."
Emma: "So you lied...!"
Kagari: "Can you really say that when you've been carried away the whole time?"
(Uh...)
As I stumbled over my words, his green eyes narrowed with what seemed like amusement.
No matter what I say now, they’ll just sound like excuses.
(If that's the case, maybe I should just throw away all restraint and let my true feelings flow.)
(Just as Kagari was doing in front of me.)
Emma: "...Then please don’t hate me if I become an insufferably selfish, needy brat."
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Kagari: "I never planned to."
Before I knew it, I was lifted and gently pushed onto the bed.
His eyes, gazing down at me, were endlessly sweet, binding my body and soul so tightly to the point where I could hardly breathe...
Kagari: "I won't let you go for as long as I live. No, even in death, I'll always love you."
Kagari: "No matter what you do, I’ll fall in love with you over and over again, Princess."
▼・ᴥ・▼
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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Chapter 4: It's My Party and I'll Eat Cake If I Want To
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Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter four of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 4.1K
Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (a few times), Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect.  If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
**********************************
Philadelphia 1935
"Stop fidgeting." Your mother snaps under her breath as you pull at the high collar of the monstrosity covering your body. Not one inch of skin is visible, the high collar, long sleeves, and knee-length skirt hid every shred of your body from view. It made you feel like you were drowning in chiffon all the while being choked to death.
"But mother it's itchy-"
"I don't care." She snarls, lip curling back. "It makes you look presentable and you need to focus on greeting your guests."
You sigh and look back over the groups of people that flood through the front doors of your home and into the living room. Waiters in sharp uniforms weave through the crowd with trays of appetizers, glasses of wine and champagne, and slices of birthday cake. Most of the guests were friends of your parents, and had begun flocking to the wet bar in the corner that your mother set up. Your brother and his new wife were standing in the corner of your large sitting room surrounded by groups of their friends.
Your sister-in-law smiles as she catches your eye. She was one of the nicest people you knew, perfectly matched with your older brother, who looked at her like she was his entire world. They had only courted for a month before they both realized it was love and against your parent's insistences for them to wait, had been married. But they were so blissfully happy together that it made your heart ache for the same.
You wondered if there would ever be a day that Ben looked at you that way.
"Good evening Mrs. y/l/n." Howard appears in the doorway, reaching out to kiss your mother's hand. He's wearing the same sand-colored suit as he was earlier in the park.
"Mr. Stine. Lovely to see you this evening." She curtsies graciously and glares at you to do the same. "We are happy you could make it tonight."
"I was honored to receive an invitation." His eyes drift to you. "Ms. y/l/n." He takes your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. His hand is clammy and you try not to make a face.
Ben still hadn't shown up. Which meant that he was either out drinking and he forgot, fighting with his father again, or he was waiting to make his grand entrance.
You really hoped that he hadn't forgotten. When he dropped you off at your home a few hours prior to the party, he said something about going to get a drink and changing. What you'd wanted to say was, didn't you have enough earlier, but you didn't.
The few hours before the party had been harrowing, filled with your mother snapping at you whenever you complained about her pulling the corset too tight, jerking your hair, or rubbing the lotions and ointments into your skin too roughly.
"Would you like to dance?" Howard asks you with a smile.
"Um-" You begin to say.
"Of course she would!" Your mother says all but shoving you forward into Howard's arms.
He leads you away to the sitting room. Your mother had the staff clear out all the furniture to make room for a string band in the corner and a dance-floor. There were already a few couples swaying back and forth to the soft tones that flitted through the air on wings.
Howard pulls you against him awkwardly, one of his hands tightening on your waist, the other clasping your left hand  in his sweaty right. Everything about dancing with him feels wrong. The way your bodies move together, the smell of his cologne is unfamiliar, the feeling of his hand on your waist, and the way his feet sporadically knock into yours, that are pinched tight in a pair of heels that make you taller than Howard. The dance you share is filled with silences that you can't avoid.
Silence.
"You look really nice." Howard tries.
"Thank you."
Silence.
"So, um- you like to paint." Howard says with a strained smile.
"I do."
Silence.
"Did you see President Roosevelt's plans for the Social Security Administration? I think that it will definitely help with taxation and the living situations in America!" Howard smiles.
"Um. No I didn't."
Silence.
It shouldn't be this hard to talk to other people. You think to yourself. When you and Ben talked, there were never any uncomfortable silences, if anything sometimes the silence was nice. The one between Howard and you felt like it was big enough for an oil tanker to pass through.
You heard a commotion at the front door and raise your eyes to look over Howard's head, and feel your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. Ben is standing there, his arm looped tightly with Missy Callahan.
Missy was your best friend in grade school, but you quickly realized that it wasn't your friendship she was interested in, it was Ben. And as soon as Ben realized that she was interested in him, he all but jumped at the chance. Ben and her spent time together on and off over the past few years since the three of you were thirteen. And as much as you wished that they wouldn't spend any time together, you couldn’t come up with a way to voice your displeasure to Ben without telling him that you loved him.
You tried not to compare the way she looked to you. Her beautiful blonde hair fell in effortless waves down her back, her figure was slim, her eyes an enchanting blue that captured anyone under her gaze, and her steps so graceful she seemed to float across the ground rather than walk. Her voice was musical and lofty, accentuated by her timeless features, perfect cupid bow mouth, and wide eyes that always seemed full of stars and innocence. Tonight she was wearing a sleek red dress that cupped her body in a way that made everyone else in the room look like they were wearing potato sacks.
Of course you knew she was more than innocent. You'd caught her on several occasions saying terrible things about you, but the feeling was mutual. Her snide comments about how you looked and what you wore used to hurt more than they did now. But when Ben was around, she was perfectly kind to you, overly sweet that it made you want to choke her out of frustration.
You watch the two of them come through the front door, and notice Ben's eyes survey the room. You fight the urge to duck and run to hide the horrible dress. You know that he's looking for you and deep down you hope also he doesn't see you with Howard. But at the same time you know that what you’re about to do is much worse.
"Howard." You force yourself smile at him, dropping your eyes to the man dancing with you.
"Yeah?"
"Will you twirl me?" You lean towards him as if he's everything you wanted. Deep down you feel like a terrible person for using him like this, but you didn't want to be lonely. And when Ben was with Missy, that's exactly how you felt, lonely.
"Of course." Howard's smile breaks your heart. He twirls you away, and as he does, you catch Ben's eyes momentarily. You see something flit through them that you notice is the same emotion he had earlier when your mother wrapped that coat over your shoulders earlier, but it's gone as soon as it appears.
When you land back against Howard's chest, you ignore how wrong he fits against you, and instead you giggle.
"So Howard, what do you like to do in your free time?" You ask him, ignoring the feeling of Ben's gaze on you.
"Well, I've been researching the steel industry and trying to predict how it will bounce back-" Howard begins to slip quickly into a monologue about the United States steel production and the possible growth in the coming years.
Oh boy. He continues to speak while you sway to the music and you immediately begin to regret everything you've done in the past few minutes. At least he can multi-task.
You hoped that Ben and Missy weren't still standing there watching you, if they were Missy was probably laughing at you.
Finally, Howard stops talking and leads you over to the living room where people have begun to clump up and talk with one another. A waiter walks over with a tray full of birthday cake and just as you reach for a slice Missy materializes on your right like the devil on your shoulder.
"Y/n!" She smiles wide, saying your name with fake cheer. "I had no idea you would be here!"
"It's my birthday party." You say, voice slipping into a monotone.
"Oh well Benjamin didn't say anything about why we were coming here. Just said party and well, here I am." You hate the way she says his name, like she's emphasizing the fact she has him and you don't. "What an interesting dress!" Her eyes skate down the abomination your mother picked out.
"Thanks." You reply through gritted teeth.
She leans forward to whisper in your ear. "Do you really think birthday cake is a good idea?"
Your cheeks blaze bright red and just as you open your mouth to tell her exactly where you’d like to shove the birthday cake, Ben appears beside her.
"Hey."
"Hi." You don't bother to make your voice cheery.
When I sent you a birthday invitation I didn't say you could bring a plus one, and especially not this bitch. You try to say with your eyes.
"Did you have a nice dance Howie?" Ben turns his eyes on Howard, who stiffens at the use of the nickname.
"Yes we did." You answer for him and take Howard’s hand.
Something flashes in Ben's eyes when you use the word "we."
"Oh Benjamin, I love this song! Let's dance." Missy says, grabbing Ben's wrist and pulling him away.
You stand there and watch them dance for a moment, noticing how closely they're pressed together, how Ben's grip on her waist tightens as they sway back and forth, how Missy's head rests against the smooth fabric of his black jacket. An irrational amount of jealousy crashes over you as you watch them dance together, but you can't look away. It's like a trainwreck.
Well, couldn't look away until Missy catches your eye and shoots you a smirk that makes you consider all the places in Philadelphia you can hide a body. The list is detailed and quite long, considering you'd been working on it for as long as you'd known Ben.
"Y/n?" Howard says.
"Hmm?" You turn to look at him. "Sorry I was-" Thinking about all the ways to kill Missy. "Lost in thought."
"I asked if you wanted a piece of cake." Howard smiles and you hate that you feel absolutely nothing when he does. There's no butterflies, no tightening in the center of your chest, no warmth tracing through your body like fingertips flaring against your skin. You hated that's what happened when Ben smiled at you.
You think about what Missy said about the birthday cake, looking once more at her statuesque figure that bends gracefully away from Ben as he dips her, and shove the thought away. "Sure."
**************************
You sit on the end of your bed, but you don't reach for your sketchpad, you were too angry for that.
Ben had barely said two words to you beside the hello that you shared when he came to your birthday party with the most odious girl alive, of course that didn't mean that you lost them in the crowds of people. And that also meant that you'd seen him and her making out in one of the dark corners of the living room.
Anger, frustration, and jealousy swirl together and congeal into a ball in the pit of your stomach. You were angry at Ben for bringing her, jealous of Missy that she was the one who got to be with Ben, and frustrated at yourself for your inability to tell Ben the truth.
Why can't tell him? You sigh. And then what? I tell him and he immediately cuts me out of his life? Your eyes trace the room around you and fall back on your bed. Your bedroom always seemed too big without him, the bed cold, and the  room dark. It made the whole in your heart open up when he wasn't there.
You hated how much you needed him and how much you depended on Ben showing up in your life. You wondered if he needed you too.
The memory of him and Missy in the corner, with his hands on her hips and his lips fused to hers, darts across your mind and makes you pluck a pillow from the head of your bed and scream into it.
It doesn't help.
"Hard day?" Someone asks.
"What are you doing here Ben?" You sigh, not needing to look up to know that its him.
He's standing with his feet on your window seat as he comes in from the ledge.
"Thought I'd stop by. We didn't get to talk much at the party." He shrugs.
You try not to look at how his lips are a little pinker than usual and how his hair is sticking up in the back like someone has run their fingers through it.
Damn Missy.
"Well I noticed you were plenty occupied. I guess it's hard to talk with your tongue shoved down Missy's throat." You huff, practically kicking off your shoes. It's a miracle that they don't hit him when he climbs down from the widow seat.
The image of him and Missy Callahan in the corner of your living room kissing flashes over your mind again and makes your temper flare red hot against your skin. The jealousy that electrifies in your veins you know is unwarranted. Ben wasn't yours. You didn't have a claim to him just because you were friends. Just friends. Great friends. And you knew that he didn't feel that way about you.
But how can he not see me as more? How can he spend so much time with me and only see me as a friend? You wanted to scream. All those times falling asleep talking with one another, all the times we woke up in the early morning pressed against one another. How can Ben not want to be more?
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sound jealous Doll." Ben smirks.
"Of what? Missy Callahan? Please-" You blow a raspberry, even though it's unladylike and you know that if your mother was there she would slap you for doing so. "I don't know what you see in that vapid self-centered debutante. I doubt the two of you can find anything to talk about-"
"Well we don't do much talking. And you and Howard looked plenty cozy together." Ben's smirk turns more into a taunt and this time it makes you want to slap your best friend, but you hold yourself back. "But you sure sound jealous."
"I'm not jealous!" You snap, tugging at the collar of your dress in frustration, both at Ben and at the material in your hands. "Damn it!" You curse, not at Ben, but continue tug at the collar of the dress. Despite wanting to take it off, you hadn't been able to do it by yourself and your mother was busy ordering the waiters downstairs clean up, and it was getting harder to breathe and not to mention terribly hot.
"You doing okay there sweetheart?" Ben's smirk shifts to a worried expression.
"No I can't breathe." You choke out.
Ben immediately steps forward before you can stop him and unzips the back of your dress. It pools at your feet, making your breath catch, leaving you in the tight white corset that was causing you to asphyxiate. Although it went to your knees you still felt almost naked. Ben had only seen you in nightgowns, but it didn't mean that he hadn't felt your curves pressed against him in the morning when you woke up together.
The corset your mother insisted was necessary to shave down your hips, flatten your butt, and squeeze your breasts so tight against your chest that each time you took in a breath you weren't able to expel it.
Ben doesn't look away from your face, but it looks as if it's causing an amazing amount of effort for him to do so. "Do you want me to loosen it?" He rumbles. His jaw clenches with his words, and a darkness blooms in his eyes that sends a thrill down your spine.
"Yes." Your voice comes out more like a squeak than anything else.
Ben turns you in his arms slowly as if gauging your reaction, before you feel his fingertips trail down your spine as he begins to loosen the ties on the back. The tingle that follows his fingertips makes your chest as tight as the garment that squeezes you. You try not to think about how many times you imagined this exact scenario, with you and Ben in your bedroom together. Ben turns your body around so that you're looking up at him again, your faces so close that his lips are leveled directly where your hair sprouts from your forehead.
His hands remain on your waist, thumbs rubbing soothing circles through the material where it rests on your hips, tracing the crest of your pelvis with each stroke, his eyes lock with yours. They are deep and dark and filled with promises that makes you shiver and you're sure he feels. Your own hands have come up between you to rest against his solid chest, admiring the muscle beneath his dark suit. You can't help but notice how he leans forward into your touch as you do and feel the rapid beat of his heart against the palms of your hands. It mirrors your own that feels as though it will break free and flutter away.
"Ben I-" You begin to say.
A loud knocking at your door makes you shove him backwards away from you so hard that Ben stumbles, tripping over the edge of your bed and onto the ground with a loud thud that you try to cover with a cough.
"Who is it?" You ask, voice frantic.
"It's your father."
Your wide eyes lock with Ben's, who doesn't look nearly afraid enough. "Get under the bed-" You whisper-yell.
"I love it when you order me around." Ben smirks as your cheeks flush and his eyes trace your figure one more time in a way that makes you burn.
"Ben!" You hiss.
He crawls under the bed and you grab your bathrobe, wrapping it around yourself before saying "Come in."
Your father enters, a glass of scotch clasped in his hand. His black suit is impeccable, perfectly tailored to him, as it should be, he was, after all, one of the most powerful men in Philadelphia.
His gaze sweeps the room for a moment as if looking for someone, tracing over your bed once, and you think you see the end of his lip quirk for a minute, but then it fades.
"Hi." You smile at him, your cheeks still flushed, heart beat pounding against your ribcage.
Don't look under the bed. Don't look under the bed. Don't look under the bed.
"I apologize for the intrusion, I just wanted to say goodnight." He crosses the room to hug you with one arm. You can smell the tobacco from his nightly smoke on his jacket. You and your father had always been a bit closer than you and your mother. Especially when you were younger and you'd sit in the parlor at his feet watching him smoke his pipe before bed. Over the past few years you hadn't been able to spend as much time together, and it made you sad to think that you were growing apart from him.
"Did you have a good birthday?"  He pushes back some of the hair that's fallen into your face with a warm smile.
"Yes I did. Ben got me some new brushes and I got to try them out today when we went to the park."
"That was nice of him." Your father smiles for a minute before he takes a sip from his scotch. "I saw you dancing with Howard Stine."
"Yeah. He's…" Boring. "Nice."
"Hmm." Your father nods. "He's from a good family. Your mother certainly thinks that he's suitable-" He pauses. "But I'm not sure he's right for you."
"It was just a dance. I don't think that makes anything official." You laugh.
Please let my future not end with Howard Stine.
Your father shrugs his shoulders and takes another sip of his scotch. "Your mother and I started with just a dance." The look in his eyes changes for a moment and you wonder if he's reliving the memory of them together. It was moments like this when you saw how much your father loved your mother. It was difficult for you to understand given everything that she'd said to you over the years, but it brought you joy that your father was happy. He shakes his head as if pushing it away. "You always seem happier after you've spent time with Benjamin."
Your cheeks flush bright red, knowing that Ben can hear the conversation. "We're just friends."
"Perhaps." His lips twitch. "So you did have fun at the park? Any new paintings?"
"A few."
"May I see?"
Usually you liked when your father looked at your work, but the thought that Ben was hiding under your bed and could be discovered at any minute, set you on edge.
"Sure." You walk around the bed to get your watercolor pad on your bedside table, before holding it out over the bed for your father. And just as he takes it, Ben's large hand fastens around your ankle. You clear your throat, kicking your foot to get him to let go, but he doesn't release it  and you can hear his muffled laugh.
"These are quite something." He flips through the pages, finally stopping on the one of Ben from this morning. "I can't believe he sat still long enough for you to paint him."
"Ben is difficult. ALL the time." You grit out, kicking with your foot again, but he doesn't let go. "And annoying." You grumble low enough for only Ben to hear.
"Yes. I believe that."  Your father hands you back the pad of paper. "But he certainly makes you happy, and that's all I want for you."
"Dad-"
He smiles, but shakes his head at you. "Goodnight darling." Your father turns to walk towards the door before he stops. "Your mother will be coming upstairs in a few minutes, perhaps Ben should not be here when she does." And then he leaves.
Your entire body flushes bright red with embarrassment. HOW DID HE KNOW THAT BEN WAS HERE?
Ben crawls out from under your bed holding back laughter.
"It's not funny!" You snap.
"Kinda funny." He smiles. "Do you think he's going to tell your mom?"
"No. I mean I hope not. I think if he does, she'd nail the window shut and cut the tree down." You stand there for a second. "But you should go if she's coming."
"I could hide in the closet this time, see if she can find me?" Ben jokes.
"It's not hide and go seek or Marco Polo!"
Ben laughs at you, before his expression turns serious. "Are you sure you want me to go?" You know that he's asking you that because he knows that no matter what your mother wants to speak to you about will not end well.
"I'm fine Ben. Go. It'll be okay." You smile despite your rising nerves.
"Okay."
He stands there for another beat, eyes dropping to your robe, and for a second you believe that he's thinking about how you looked a minute ago. Your cheeks flush at the memory, feeling his hands trace your spine to loosen the corset, and then how they felt on your waist. What would have happened if my father didn't come in?
"I'll see you tomorrow. I still have five days of freedom before boarding school number seven and I'd like to spend at least one at a baseball game." He finally says.
"Sounds boring."
"I can always take Missy." He replies smugly.
"And by boring I mean it sounds like everything I've ever wanted." You force a smile.
"That's what I thought."
But before he leaves, he pulls you into a hug.
"Goodnight y/n. Happy Birthday."
"Goodnight Ben." You say into his shoulder.
And then he vanishes out your window without another word, leaving you with the memory of what almost happened, and the rising dread that your mother was going to come in at any minute.
******************************************
Thank you so much for reading! If you would like to be added to my taglist for this series let me know :)
Also, everyone say thank you to @deans-spinster-witch for giving me an idea for this chapter! ❤️
Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch
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youresodarkbabe · 5 months
Text
i'm listening, ready to learn (prof!a. turner x reader)
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smut.
warnings: prof!al x reader (yes this is influenced by the recents), age gap, piv, dom-ish al, oral (f!receiving)
word count: 2.6k
took me a while but im back!! hi :)
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"it's definitely not the worst i've seen."
those four words were like a knife to the heart. you put everything you had into those pictures, worked on them for weeks, refining, editing, reshoots, and that still didn't please him. you gave him everything you had to offer, and it still wasn't enough. you could cry on the spot, but his voice pulled you out of your mind's abyss.
"do you want a second chance? i mean, i think you could do much better than this, not to be too harsh."
you had to stop yourself from showing your sheer happiness, you couldn't believe this. you try your hardest to compose yourself before speaking.
"yes, please," you mutter quietly, your voice coming out almost like a squeak. he found it endearing.
he sets your portfolio on his desk and stands up, sliding it over to you with a smile before taking a sip of his coffee.
"tell me if this crosses a line, but would you like to do the shoots at my studio? i have everything you need and more there, i think it'd be very useful."
reality hits you hard. you and your professor at his studio, all alone. if you weren't already trying to conceal your emotions, you were definitely doing it now. ignoring the heat pooling between your legs, you nod, not trusting yourself to speak, afraid of what would come out of your mouth.
"alright," alex grabs a pen from his shirt pocket and jots down his phone number and studio's address on a post it note and sticks it on the top of your portfolio, "how's this friday? is 7 good for you?"
you nod again, eyes fixed on his. "'s perfect, sir."
the sun was shining perfectly, his eyes illuminating like gold. he was so, so beautiful and it took everything you had to break that eye contact and walk out of the class.
come friday, and you're already panicking. you can't find any of the things you need, your reference pictures are shit in hindsight and your roommate had accidentally broken the lens you needed for your camera. regardless, you show up to the studio twenty minutes too early with all you could carry, hoping he wouldn't hate you for your lack of equipment.
he opens the door in a red shirt, a few buttons undone. you couldn't help but picture what he'd look like with the shirt off.
"you're early, doll," he lets you into the studio and shows you where to keep your stuff. "i would've rushed a bit more when cleaning if i knew you'd be so early."
your cheeks heat up as you take in his words.
"i can always come back later?" you say, almost immediately packing your stuff back up, only for alex to stop you with a hand holding your wrist firmly in place.
"it's fine, promise. just a tad unexpected."
he gives you that classic smile and all the worry in your heart seems to melt away. he asks if you'd like some space to set up, and as much as you want to spend time with him, you know it'd be best if you focused, so you say yes. alex darts off to the other side of the room where you see him fiddling with the portfolio from your previous meeting. you tear away your focus from him and set up your camera and all you'd need for the shoot.
he shuts it abruptly, the sound making you jump, his voice instantly soothing your mind.
"did you bring any references?"
shit, you think to yourself. you hated the references you originally had, you left them at home. you had absolutely nothing.
alex tuts, setting the portfolio back down and walking to you, tapping your chin so you'd look up at him, which you do.
"i can see you gettin' in your head. you don't have to worry, we can figure this out, okay?"
"okay."
you and alex stand there for a moment, faces so close, almost close enough for you to close the gap— to kiss him, but you choose against it. alex again seems to be the one to snap out of the haze first, taking a few steps away, clearing his throat. "i, uh, have some pictures you could use as a reference."
right. the photoshoot. that's why you're here.
"you wanna go get 'em for me?" alex asks as he sits down on the chair in front of your camera. you say yes, waiting on him to tell you where to go.
"just that shelf there, the gray one."
you hold the hefty photo album in your hand and hand it to him, standing behind him, leaning in to look at the pictures.
calling them gorgeous would be an understatement. you had been passionate for photography for as long as you could remember and you had never seen pictures that had captured the human essence that beautifully.
alex points at a specific picture and looks up at you, beaming.
the photograph looked simple enough, but there was something to it, something that made it transcend normalcy, the model looked ethereal. it was in black and white, and the standout feature was the bright red lipstick mark on the model's neck, you could immediately picture alex like that, he'd look so perfect.
you try ignoring how wet just the thought of him like that makes you and as if on cue, he says your name, you look away from the picture and back at him.
"i can see the ideas in your eyes, i think we'd best get started, hm?"
you let out a shaky breath and are about to go to your camera, before you pause and turn to him.
"am i.. do i have to take the pictures of you?"
and for the first time, you see a blush grace your professor's perfect face.
"that was the plan, yeah. we can always find a different picture to replicate if you want, it's fine, i don't mind—"
"no! i mean, it's fine. i'm alright with taking the pictures of you, sir."
alex runs a hand through his hair and licks his lips, "alright, okay,". he smiles at you again, making your heart melt and you feel yourself getting soaked. "think i should change this shirt, though. what do you think, sweetheart?"
based on the look on his face, you can tell he didn't mean to let the nickname slip. you'd be lying if you said you didn't love the way how naturally it rolled off his tongue, though. his accent made the word go straight to your core.
"you can change if you'd like."
he mumbles a quiet 'yeah', and goes off into the corner of the room, unbuttoning his shirt as he walks, unaware of how your eyes are fixed onto him. he slips the shirt off and turns to you, holding two shirts in either of his hands.
"black or white?"
you eye him up and down, replying despite being completely distracted.
"white."
he puts the shirt on as he walks back to the seat, you avoid eye contact because who knows what he'd say if you kept staring.
he sits down and you look back down at the reference picture, one question filling your mind.
"sir?"
he hums in response, fixing the camera slightly.
"the lipstick mark. do i have to—"
"if you want. it's not needed, you don't have to."
the second you hear alex say you can kiss him, you grab your red lipstick and apply it, not noticing how enamored alex is. he watches on as you swipe the lipstick along your bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to feel them against his, but at the same time, terrified that you don't see him the same way.
you stand in between alex's legs, one of his hands on your waist as you lean in and press your lips to the side of his neck, under his jaw. you hear his breath hitch as you pull away, the grip on your waist getting firmer.
"it doesn't look good, can i redo it?" you ask, just so you could kiss him again. alex nods and hands you his old shirt to wipe the lipstick off with. you kiss his neck again, this time with your lips parted, your teeth lightly grazing his pulse point.
alex's eyes fall shut and his mouth hangs open, a quiet groan gracing your ears. with his eyes still shut, he moves his other hand to your waist, pulling you closer to him. "that one good enough for you?", he asks, his hands moving to your back, wrapping around you.
"no, i think i need to kiss you again." you mutter, dipping your head even closer to his. alex doesn't hold back, this time. he leans in and kisses you, standing up and pulling away to kiss your cheek, laughing at the slight red tint he leaves.
"'m i right in assumin' my lips are red too, now?"
you nod as you tangle your hands in his hair, kissing him again, deeply, tongue and teeth clashing with no regard for anything but each other.
alex's hands slip down to your thighs, tapping on them and instinctively you jump into his grasp, letting him carry you with his hands planted firmly under your ass. he pulls away again, dipping his head to your neck, sucking, biting, licking— anything that makes you feel good. you feel how hard he is through your jeans, and you grind against him, making him moan along your collarbone.
"d'you wanna go to my room, baby?", he asks in between kisses. your mind is too overwhelmed with him to respond, so you just tug on his hair, hoping he'd take the message, which he does.
you can barely focus on where he's taking you, working on unbuttoning his shirt, not realising what alex takes with him into his room.
he lays you down on his bed, it dipping when he settles on his knees by your side, letting you unbutton his shirt. he shrugs it off, smiling at how you look at him, completely obsessed with you. he slides his hands under your shirt, waiting for you to let him know it was okay to take it off, which you do with a moan. you're grinding against his thigh now, letting him take your shirt off. while he's there, he also takes your bra off, swearing under his breath at the sight of your tits. he cups them, twisting your nipples between his fingers, watching as they harden, taking one into his mouth.
he sucks on it before pulling off with a pop, kissing all over your chest until he reaches the waistband of your jeans. he undoes the button and pulls them off slowly, along with your soaking wet panties, both joining the growing pile of clothes on his floor.
alex runs a finger through your folds and pops it into his mouth, humming as he tastes you.
your hips roll into his as you whine, "sir, i need you, please," you begged, and alex simply couldn't say no to you.
alex strips down fully in front of you, and just the sight of his cock makes you squirm. he was bigger than you'd imagined him being. trying to convince yourself that you could take him, you watch as he slides back in between your legs and places his arms on either side of your head. you can't help yourself from reaching out for his cock, stroking it and playing with the tip. his arms almost give in as he groans straight into your ear.
he moves one of his hands to pry yours away from his cock, "if you pull somethin' like that again, i'll make sure to leave you here, just like this. got it?"
the harshness in his voice makes you clench around nothing, you nod rapidly, biting your lip to keep quiet.
"good girl," alex mutters as he aligns himself with your aching hole, pushing in as slowly as possible, both of you moaning as he bottoms out. his hand goes to your clit, rubbing it in figure eights as slowly as possible as he pulls out almost completely, only to slam back in.
your hands go to his back, nails digging into his skin as he thrusts. he had a plan— he was going to take it slow, be as gentle as possible— but it all went to shit the second he saw the way your tits moved with every thrust.
he speeds up, going faster with every thrust, eyes flitting between your face and your tits. his fingers work your clit like magic and your back arches into him, tits pressing against his chest as he hits the perfect spot. you moan his name loudly, biting into his shoulder to muffle your noise. he strokes your hair softly, slowing down just a bit to kiss your cheek.
"feel good, princess?" he asks, his voice sweeter than sugar.
"so, so, so good, fuck—" you feel yourself getting closer and closer and alex can feel it too. you clench around him before you see white, the pleasure of it all taking over as you cum hard. alex fucks you through it, getting closer and closer to his peak.
just as he's about to cum, he pulls out, slightly too late. his cum spurts all over your thighs, stomach and cunt, but you're too fucked out to care.
"that was so good, love, you did so, so well for me."
he kisses your collarbone again, moving lower and lower, eventually settling with his face in between your thighs. he pushes the cum off of your stomach and thighs and into your cunt with his fingers, twisting them inside you. surprised, you tug on his hair, pulling him to look at you.
"i got you, good girl, don't worry, okay?"
you nod as alex pulls his fingers out and slides them into your mouth, making you suck them clean— which you do.
he kisses your inner thigh before finally licking a stripe up your worn pussy, making direct eye contact as he does so. his lips attach to your clit, teeth grazing against it as he flicks it with his tongue, eventually moving his thumb to do that job for him. he slides his tongue into you, tasting you as best as he can, moaning into your cunt. the vibrations drive you crazy, hips bucking into his mouth as he licks into you relentlessly.
his nose nudges your clit as you feel your peak getting closer once more, legs wrapping around his head as you cum again, letting him clean you up with his gentle kitten licks. alex looks up at you through his messy hair, laughing as you pry him away from your overstimulated cunt. he eventually gives in, moving away and kissing his way back up to your face.
the two of you sit there in silence for a while, the only sounds you hear is alex's quiet breathing as you run your hands through his hair.
"'m sorry," he mumbles against your lips. "you're my student, this isn't right, i shouldn't have—"
you press your lips against his once more, softer this time, less starved, less desperate. you kiss him as if you can see more of these kisses coming your way in the future.
"i can see you getting in your head, alex." he chuckles at the callback to what he had told you earlier, hiding his head in the crook of your neck. "i want this to work. i think if we tried, and if we're careful, it will."
alex takes a deep breath in, sitting up next to you, gently stroking your stomach as he presses another kiss to your neck.
"it better work, doll."
you feel yourself starting to drift asleep, only waking up to the feeling of alex's body leaving yours.
"what are you doing?" you ask quietly, voice too hoarse speak normally.
alex grabs what he took with him earlier, that object you couldn't quite make out, and waves it in front of your eyes. that fucking camera.
"just stay still, love," he says as he snaps a few pictures of you, smiling at the stills.
"so.. are those getting me my A?"
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anyways.. sextape fic soon!!
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