#the pic are in order of when they were drawn

[antipathy-arsonist]

FINALLY FINISHED THAT PAGE NOW I CAN POST THIS THANG

ive been doing this since December and i like the way you can see a bit of improvement over ti- OH MY GOD I HAVE TO TAG ALL THESE CHARACTERS

[sweetdreamlandstuff]

Catching them masturbating JJK - Part 2

NSFW / Minors don’t interact / 18+

Characters: Toji Fushiguro / Suguru Geto / Hiromi Higuruma / Utahime Iori x female reader 

Sequel to this part :)

Warnings: Reader lowkey cheating in Toji’s part, masturbation (obviously), fantasies about sex, fingering, slight overstimulation, blowjob, cumming on face, slight exhibitionism, choking/spanking/clit slap (only in Geto’s part), teasing, penetrative sex

Notes: Finally wrote this it’s been a hot minute anywayyy hope you enjoy!!! Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <3

Toji Fushiguro

It rings again and just about when the mailbox usually starts he hears your voice. 

“Hello?”

Fuck. Toji didn’t prepare for this, for hearing you. You and your sweet, soft voice. He longed for it, of course he did, but he didn’t think that you’d actually pick up. 

Your name drops from his lips, a little bit surprised. A little bit breathless.

“What do you want?”

“You. I want you,” he mutters, watching his hand dragging slowly along his weeping length.

You’re silent for what feels like hours, so he just listens to your breathing while observing the movement of his hand. 

“I’m hanging up,” you hiss. 

The coldness in your voice makes Toji’s heart ache. 

“Don’t,” he mumbles hurriedly, halting his movement.

“I’m in a cafe right now,” you explain annoyedly. 

“With him?” He croaks.

He hears your long sigh. “Yes.” 

He knew it. Of course. With your new boyfriend. 

“Go to the bathroom,” he demands, his voice stern.

“I’m hanging up,” you decide again. But Toji knows you, he knows you so well. You and your voice and the tiny inclination of uncertainty in your tone. He knows you won’t. 

It’s silent for a minute and a part of him is doubtful if you’re still the same, if you’re still so obedient. But then he hears your voice again.

“Toji,” you start, “now, what is it?”

A sly smile creeps across his face. He loves when you say his name.

“Just wanted to hear your beautiful voice, I miss you,” he murmurs in satisfaction. The knowledge that he still has command over you makes his chest swell with affection.

“You have to stop with these calls,” you mumble. 

“I can’t,” he drawls truthfully.

“Toji,” this time your voice is softer and it makes his cock twitch in his hand.

“Come over, I need you, need you so bad,” he mutters.

“I can’t. You know I can’t.”

“Wanna fuck you so bad - ’s all I ever think about,” he groans, watching a bead of pre-cum dripping down his shaft.

“Toji,” you almost whimper his name. 

“You miss me too? Come on tell me.” He can hear it in your voice. But he wants you to say it, needs you to.

He hears your slight, breathless chuckle. “No.”

“I know that’s not true. Come on tell me that you miss me, how I made you feel,” he whispers, slowly dragging his hand along his dick.

His breathing is ragged, not in the slightest concealing what he’s doing.

“You’re clenching your thighs right now, huh? Be honest.”

He can picture you; your cheeks hot, lips slightly parted, your heart beating fast against your ribcage. You’re nervous. And appalled by your own overwhelming desire.

His name again, drawn out in a breathless whimper.

“I know this turns you on, be a good girl and send me a pic of your wet panties,” he orders, a smug grin playing around his lips.

“I- I can’t,” you mumble, your voice breathless and weak. 

“Always were such a good girl for me, always got so wet for me, isn’t that right?”

“Toji, please,” you whimper. Your voice, laced with desperation, makes his cock throb.

“Fuck, I bet you’re dripping,” he grunts, increasing the pace of his hand.

You moan. It’s as sweet as in his memories. And then he sees your message, one image attached. He almost cums at the sight of it; your panties drenched, clinging onto your pretty pussy lips. 

“Fuck, look at you,” he breathes, his eyes greedily staring at his screen, at your apparent arousal for him. “Is this all for me, huh?”

“Yes, yes.” Your answers come faster now, more deliberately.

“You're touching yourself, baby?”

“Yeah,” you whine. He can hear your torment, the lust for him overpowering your faithfulness. 

“You miss this dick, come on tell me.” His voice is low and taunting, his pants heavy as he pumps into his swollen tip. 

Your voice breaks. “I miss your dick,” you whimper.

“I know you do, I know,” he mutters, watching as another bead of pre-cum slides down his cock, easing his movement. He can clearly hear your pants, your quiet moans.

And he can clearly picture you; the way your parted lips release those sweet sounds he usually elicited you, your delicate, slippery fingers rubbing over your puffy clit, your fingers curling inside of your pussy, never quite reaching that sweet spot he could.  

“You wanna cum for me? Come on let me hear you,” he groans, feeling his orgasm nearing. 

You moan his name, and it sounds so sweet, so right. It makes him fall right over.

Toji cums, just as you do. Your breathy moans and whimpers fall right on his awaiting ears, as his orgasm washes over him. His hips jerk up helplessly into his hand, his thighs tensing as his cum shoots out of him, staining his hand, his thighs, and abs. 

He shallowly thrusts into his fist to ride out his high before he lets his cock fall heavy against his thigh. 

“Don’t tell me you feel bad when this feels so right,” he murmurs just before you hurriedly hang up. 

Suguru Geto

“SUGURU!?”

Geto perks up. His eyes nearly fall out of his head when he finds you standing at the door. 

Well, he really should’ve waited to touch himself until he was at home.

But how could he restrain himself? It somehow became a routine, training with you, thinking about you lying underneath him, how you touched him. Until he had to touch himself. It was stupid of him to think he could quickly take care of his urges in this empty classroom. 

Geto quickly pulls up his pants, standing up straight in front of the desk he just leaned against. He feels his dick throbbing in his boxers. The sight of you makes his heart flutter nervously in his chest. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The disbelief is painted all over your face; mouth agape, eyebrows pulled up, tone wavering in surprise. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” 

Your eyes scan the room, partly expecting another person to appear. But it’s only you and him. Solely, 10 minutes ago you two were training together and then you find him like this. Hair is falling out of his bun, hanging into his eyes. He looks wild. You’ve never seen him like this. 

You carefully close the door behind you. 

Geto has the feeling that you like to see him embarrassed, an exceptional instance where you have the upper hand over him. He watches a smirk tug at the corner of your lips. Well, seems like you quickly overcame your earlier surprise and the shock of seeing his dick. 

“I guess you’re aware that you shouldn’t do this stuff here. I didn’t know that you were into that, Suguru.” 

You’re mocking him now. 

He doesn’t want to give you this satisfaction. He doesn’t want to be embarrassed. 

Geto takes long strides over to you, quickly closing the distance between you two. He looms over you, having you take a step back, your back flush against the door now. 

Your eyes trail along his features, noticing from up close how his face is flushed, the pupils of his eyes blown out, and the slight frown on his face. 

He has stood in front of you countless of times, you’ve fought with him, you know that he’s taller than you. But it hits you deep now, how broad he really is, how strong, the way he towers over you. You gulp. 

Geto relishes the way you have to look up at him, the way your eyes slightly widen out of surprise, again. 

“What am I going to do with you, hm?”

You frown, “What do you mean?”

Now he smirks down at you. “I mean, I can’t just let you get away with seeing me like this. What if you tell someone?”

He places a hand right above you, leaning even closer to you. 

You grin up at him. “Well, that would be fucking embarrassing, you pervert.”

Geto has always been faster than you. His hand wraps around your throat, you didn’t even see it coming. You gasp. His hand doesn’t press down, still letting you breathe freely. Yet your heartbeat accelerates at the dominance he displays. It has you unconsciously clenching your thighs together.

“What did you say?”

“I said, you’re a fucking pervert,” you hiss. But the earlier bite of your words is vanished now. 

He chuckles, his dark eyes trailing over your features. “Who’s the pervert now?” His hand sneaks under your skirt, cupping your pussy through your panties. 

Your cheeks burn. 

His head dips down, his lips trailing along your skin before his hot breath hits your ear shell. “You like that, huh?”

His deep voice sends shivers down your spine. You slightly turn your head away from him, but he doesn’t let you, the soft pressure on your throat halting your movement. 

“I know something else that you would like,” he drawls, his fingers sliding along your clothed pussy, feeling the patch of dampness that has already gathered.

His hand that’s been gripping your throat moves, slowly tilting up your chin. You can’t help but lock eyes with him.

His grin is voracious. “You want me to show you?”

Your curiosity has always gotten the better of you. You swallow, hard. “Yes.”

His grin turns even wider.

He takes ahold of you, quickly picking you up. Instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist. He stops in front of the desk, placing you on its edge. 

His lips are on yours in an instant. Greedily, his tongue drags along your lips, demanding entry. You grant him entrance, letting his tongue explore your mouth. The kiss is good. Better than expected. You would have to lie if you said that you haven’t been thinking about this, about him, wondering what he tastes like, wondering how his hands glide along your body. You don’t have to wonder about this anymore. 

His kiss was hungry, rapacious, his tongue moving against your own like he has been waiting to do this. Your heart races in your chest at the realization. He has been waiting to do this. 

You pull away, panting. You watch him as he slowly peels his eyes open, irises swallowed by the pupil. His tongue drags along his wet bottom lip, his eyes taking in your expression.

“Let me make you feel good.” His voice is husky, the very sound of it travels straight to your core.

He pulls your panties to the side before letting his fingers wander along your pussy, slowly almost teasingly. You’re embarrassed at your wetness, how you’re already so ready without him touching you properly. He must think the same, his lips stretching into a satisfied grin. 

You don’t know how you got here. He should be the embarrassed one, being caught masturbating. Yet here you are, his slippery fingers buried in your cunt and your cheeks burning. 

He makes a mess of the slick that has already gathered. His large finger prods into you, knuckle for knuckle, eliciting you a small gasp. He slathers your wetness over your clit, drawing large circles that have your head spinning. You hold onto the edge of the table, trying hard not to show him just how good he makes you feel. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

He works like that, sinking his large fingers into you, and curling them deliciously before he stimulates your clit. You’re panting, holding back your moans, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to your impending orgasm. You can’t hold back your moans anymore. Hesitantly, they drop from your parted lips. 

Geto peers down at you, stopping his movement. “Not so fast.”

Before you can reply he has already flipped you over, bending you over the desk. You gasp in surprise. “What are-“

His hand comes down on your ass, hard. 

You yelp his name in surprise. 

“Shhh,” he scolds. “You’ll get us caught.”

You swallow hard, breathing out a shaky moan as you brace yourself for the next spank. 

His hand comes down hard again, the sensation causing you to jolt forward. His hand rubs over your ass cheek, the softness of his touch building a stark contrast to his hard hand a few seconds ago. 

“Suguru,” you drawl, wanting him to touch you where you need it the most. You look back at him. The sight has you clenching around nothing. His eyes are wild, fixed on your wet pussy like hypnotized, his jaw slightly clenched. 

He hesitantly averts his gaze, his dark eyes fixing on yours. 

“Can I hear you say please?”

“Please,” you pant, voice barely above a whisper. 

He spanks you again, eliciting a choked moan. 

“I can’t hear you.” His voice is hard.

“Please,” you try again. 

Tears of relief nearly prickle in your eyes once his fingers finally ghost along your soaking folds. 

“That’s what you want?” 

“Yes,” you admit, the word bleeding in a breathless moan once his slippery fingers draw tight circles on your clit.

“Beg for it.” 

“Please,” you beg. You would do anything right now, say anything if he would just let you cum, if he would just stop his cruel teasing.

He thrust his fingers into you, his pace faster than before, while still stimulating your clit. You let your forehead sink against the cold wood, building a stark contrast to the heat traveling through your body.

Geto watches you, watches the way his fingers disappear in your tight pussy, the way you gush all over his fingers, the way your legs start to tremble.

“Filthy,” Geto chuckles darkly. 

You whine, cheeks burning as the lewd sounds of your sloppy pussy fill up the vacant classroom. Your orgasm washes over you without warning. You gasp, his name involuntarily falling from your lips as your pussy clenches around his fingers. 

Your vision is blurry, and your moans are shaky as the waves crash over you. You can feel yourself dripping down his fingers, can hear his dark, satisfied chuckle, as he guides you through it.

Your vision gets clearer again. Your heart rate goes back to normal. But his fingers still rub over your puffy clit. You whine, squirming under his touch. The stimulation is nearly too much.

“You’re gonna let me fuck you right here?” His voice is gravelly, as dark as his eyes. 

His hand comes down hard on your ass. You gasp in surprise.

And then he lightly slaps your clit. You nearly scream out. Pain mixing in with pleasure.

“‘s too much,” you plead weakly. But you should know better now than to expect his sympathy.

“I asked if you’ll let me fuck you right here.”

You look back at him. His gaze turns softer when you don’t answer immediately. 

He lets go of you then, flipping you around. You're lying on your back on the desk now. 

His face hovers above yours, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist again.

His lips press soft, feathery kisses onto your puffy, hot face. “You’ve been so good, you know that? Been such a good girl for me.”

His lips find yours, sharing a messy kiss before he retreats, a string of spit breaking between you. 

“You’re gonna be quick?” You clarify, remembering where you two are, and what could happen if anyone would find you two like this. 

“Of course.”

Geto quickly tugs down his pants, freeing his cock. He drags the swollen head of his cock through your soaking folds. Every graze against your clit has you slightly squirming, sighing breathily in anticipation. 

And when you’re just about to say something, voicing how you can’t possibly wait any longer he sinks into you. 

A choked moan drops past your lips as he stretches you open, slowly and deliberately. Once he’s bottomed out he shortly stays there, basking in the feeling of having you wrapped around him so tightly. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” he drawls, lowering his head to watch with a bleary gaze as he lets his cock drag out of you again. His dick drips with your slick, some of his pre-cum from when he touched himself already building a ring around the base of his cock. 

He knows then that he can’t go slow. Not after he has been waiting to do this - to sink his dick so deep into you that your eyes roll into the back of your head, to have you moaning and begging for him.

Geto takes ahold of your legs, resting them onto his shoulders. The change of position has you gasping, pleasure jolting through you with each thrust. 

He thrusts into you again, deeper now, feeling your pussy flutter around him. He groans, a string of curses dropping from his lips. 

And if Geto thought the sight of you earlier - pleading, moaning, dripping all over his fingers - was heavenly, seeing you now nearly makes him come undone.  

He loves watching you fall apart, loves observing how your eyes cross on particular deep thrusts, loves the sight of your pussy fluttering all messy around his dick. 

His thrusts are desperate now, his hips pressing primitively against you. It’s loud; the way your skins meet, the lewd squelch of your pussy, the panting and moaning you two desperately try to hold back. 

Geto’s orgasm washes over him without any warning. His hips stutter into you, a choked groan escaping his mouth as pleasure floods through him. 

He’s just as surprised as you. He slips out of you, his hand stroking his cock, watching deliriously how his ropes of cum paint your messy folds white. You wince when his hot cum hits your aching clit. 

His half-lidded eyes commit the image to his memory before he helps you up. You both look at each other, the same smirk, the same lust-drunk look in your eyes. 

“You really are a pervert,” you tease him, your voice still a little breathless.

He only presses a chaste kiss onto your lips. He’ll let that slide - this time at least.

Hiromi Higuruma

Higuruma feels like he has overstepped a boundary. One that he shouldn’t have crossed. It was a big fallacy. How could he think that touching himself to the thought of you, just once, would banish you from his mind, stopping this annoying attraction? 

He couldn’t have been more wrong. Because now, he can’t seem to get you out of his head. Working with you, in such close proximity, cramped into his tiny office becomes unbearable. 

He finds himself working another late night with you by his side. Rustling paper, the slow ticking of the clock, your quiet breathing. The words blur in his vision, it’s so late and he can only concentrate on you; your scent, your warmth radiating through the tiny room.

He takes you in; his gaze trailing across your features. His heart slowly drops as he notices your half-lidded eyelids and your disheveled hair. You’re tired. His gaze dips lower, gliding along your waist before resting on your exposed thighs. He swears he can see the start of your black stockings. Quickly, his eyes move back to your face.

“You can go,” he murmurs. 

You perk up. A sweet, tired smile creeps across your face. “Are you sure?”

No, he isn’t. He would rather have you here, satisfying his curiosity, pulling up the hem of your skirt to reveal if he’s right. He’s not sure; letting his large palms smooth along your legs, and cupping your clothed pussy sounds much better. But he knows he can’t.

“Yes, I’ll finish up,” he mumbles, hoping that you can’t hear the breathlessness in his voice.

But you do. You vaguely hear his reluctance, his desire. Yet his face is completely neutral as you turn around one last time before stepping out the door. Maybe it’s just your tiredness that weighs you down, which made you imagine things.

Halfway down the corridor, you notice you forgot your phone. You gulp. It’s probably laying on the desk, where you put it earlier. You turn back around, hurrying down the corridor the clinking of your shoes resounding through the empty hallway. 

Usually, Higuruma is more cautious. Normally, he waits five long, hard, straining minutes with his dick painfully throbbing in his pants, his mind unable to concentrate on anything before he gives into his urges.

He wasn’t this time. You’re urging him to uncharacteristically careless behavior. He was so pent up, he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t get ahold of himself. 

You closed the door and he instantly opened his pants, freeing his cock from the confinement of his taut boxers. His hand wrapped around his dick without a second thought, without any hesitation. 

That’s how you find him; his head thrown back, his eyes closed softly, his lips parted. You stand at the door, just looking at him, trying to process the scene unfolding right in front of your eyes. 

And then you hear your name. You’ve heard him say your name countless of times. It has never sounded remotely like this.

Higuruma nearly groans your name, with such a naturalness that it makes you forget to breathe for a second. 

He hasn’t noticed you yet and you could’ve just slipped out of the office, never saying a word to him, acting like this never happened. You could do that. But you don’t.

“Higuruma.”

He jerks up, his dark eyes fixing on yours. His mouth falls open. In any other situation, his stunned expression would’ve probably made you laugh. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this much emotion in his eyes.

You two just look at each other. He doesn’t even try to cover up, he just sits there frozen, accepting his fate. 

You don’t know what to say. You’re not even sure if there is anything to say.

Your shoes clink as you make your way behind his desk. With every step you take more of him in, seeing his disheveled black hair, and the wild, surprised look in his eyes. Your heart nearly springs out of your chest. You want to see more of him. 

You kneel down in front of him, letting your hands smooth along his thighs. His hand is still wrapped tightly around his dick. Your eyes travel up to his.

“Can I call you Hiromi now?”

Through your batted lashes you peer up at him, watching him swallow hard, watching the way his dark eyes greedily glide over your face. 

“I’m still your superior. But I’ll let it slide for tonight.” His voice is a little breathless and strained, and it sounds way too attractive. The corner of his lips slightly curl up and you fall right over. 

You beam up at him. 

He slightly lifts up his hips, so you can help him push down his slacks. His cock sprung, just inches away from you, leaking and twitching for you to finally touch him. 

Higuruma hisses as you wrap your hand around him. Slowly, you drag your hand along his throbbing length, pumping teasingly into his swollen head. You watch greedily as a bead of pre-cum slides along his cock, relishing in the feel of having his cock between your fingers.

But you want more. No - you need more.

You inch forward, your one hand bracing yourself against his thigh, as you let your tongue glide along the underside of his cock. 

You hold your eyes to his. Higuruma’s head is resting against the back of his chair, his chin is tilted down as he observes you through his hooded eyes. 

Your lips seal around the tip of his dick, sucking softly, tauntingly. 

“Are you teasing me?” 

His voice is colder than before, making a shiver run down your spine.

“Of course not, Hiromi.”

You take more of him into your mouth, your hand stroking the rest of what you can’t fit. You fall into a slow rhythm, bobbing your head, tasting him on your tongue. 

“Fuck,” he curses, stupefied. 

You moan around him, the vibration of it causing him to gasp lowly. You start to bob your head at a faster pace, your eyes darting up to him for a moment. 

You watch him fall apart above you, his half-lidded gaze trailing along your features, fixing on your swollen lips that are wrapped so tightly around him. He lets himself succumb to your touch and you savor it, to finally have him at your mercy. 

You work diligently, letting your tongue glide along his cock, swirling around the head of his cock. 

Higuruma’s jaw is slacked, his pupils almost rolling into the back of his skull. Seeing him like this, the knowledge that you make him look like this makes your blood run hot. But you’re still not satisfied. 

Slowly you ease all of him inside your mouth, the tip of his cock sitting at the back of your throat. You hold your eyes to him, you want him to see you do this. 

His half-lidded eyes soak in the filthy image of you kneeling in front of him, almost gagging on his cock. 

His large hand cradles your cheek, his thumb swiping along your hollowed cheek. 

“You’re so beautiful like that,” he breathes.

You only peer up at him, his blissful face blurring in front of your watering eyes. 

His hips rut forward into the wet, warm heat of your mouth, his hand holding your face there. The tip of his cock hits the resistance at the back of your throat repeatedly.

Your vision becomes blurred, tears prickling in your eyes as he fucks your mouth. The tiny office is filled up with the sinful sound of your wet mouth meeting his throbbing cock. 

You let out a strangled, chocked sound when it becomes too much. He lets go of you then, his hand moving to his sloppy cock, strings of glossy spit breaking between his cock and your mouth. 

“Be a good girl and open your mouth for me,” he murmurs.

You do, parting your lips and lolling out your tongue, your glazed eyes fixing on his. 

His hand strokes into the swollen head of his cock, his eyes laying on your mouth like mesmerized. 

A strangled gasp leaves his lips as he tips over the edge. The first spur falls on your awaiting tongue, a surprised moan dropping from your lips at the sensation. 

A string of curses leaves his lips as he jerks through it, letting his cum paint your face white. 

His chest heaving in pants once he’s come done from his high. You swallow, the bitter taste of him spreading on your tongue. 

“You look so pretty like this,” he mumbles, his thumb running along your chin to catch some of his own mess before he presses his finger into your mouth. Your tongue dances across his finger, cleaning it off obediently.

You swallow his spent, hoping that this won’t be the last time you get to see him like this. 

Utahime Iori

Utahime watches you, the moonlight painting a stripe of light onto your body. The blanket is carelessly wrapped around your body, exposing some of her favorite parts of you. 

Although she has been tired, after the fun night you two had, all her tiredness subsided once your body pressed onto the mattress right next to her. 

Involuntarily she has to think about what she has done in this bed. How she touched herself to the thought of you, how she dreamed about you, laying there just like this now. 

Involuntarily, her brain is flooded with her fantasies about you; about cupping your tits, about letting her hands smooth all over that perfect body of yours, about slowly easing her fingers into your slick cunt. 

Utahime sighs, turning around, desperately trying to ignore the way she can feel her underwear dampening, the lust cursing through her veins. 

But she can’t. 

Slowly, her hand sneaks past the band of her underwear, feeling her wetness transpire onto her fingertips. She slathers her wetness onto her yearning clit, drawing tight, soft circles.

She knows it’s wrong. She knows. The guilt of her doing overwhelms her, making it hard for her to breathe. She lets go of herself unsatisfied and ashamed. 

She sighs, “Fuck,” she curses aloud, her clenched fist hitting the mattress.

“What’s up?” Your voice is drowsy, a little bit raspy, just like when you wake up in the morning.

Utahime gulps, eyes wide, quickly turning around to face you. “You’re awake?”

Your eyes are half-lidded, nearly falling back close as you peer at her. “Barely.”

A small chuckle leaves her lips, the way the tiredness crawls over your face makes her chest all warm.

You turn to your side, facing her directly now. The blanket draped over your body falls just a little bit, exposing some more of your cleavage. Utahime's eyes greedily trail along your features.

“I can’t fall asleep,” she admits sheepishly. 

“Why? You wanna cuddle?” You propose, moving a little bit closer to her.

“I don’t think that’s going to help,” she hesitates. 

A soft frown appears on your forehead, the tip of your tongue sticking out of your mouth. It’s the same expression you wear when you do those crossword puzzles you never seem to get finished.

“You could try some lavender oil…” You smirk at her jokingly, eyes glinting with mischief, “sometimes I touch myself if I really can’t fall asleep.”

Utahime nearly chokes on her spit. She half-heartedly joins in your laughter, her heart nervously tugging in her chest. If you only knew…

“I can also leave the bed until you’re done,” you propose in between light chuckles.

Your smile weakens when you see that the smile froze on her face. “Utahime, what is it?”

She always forgets how you can read her face. 

The few seconds of silence almost become unbearable, almost making her crack, spilling her feelings.

“Sorry, was that too much? I thought we could talk about this.” The unsureness on your face, about the state of your friendship, and your confidence in her makes her heart drop.

“It’s not that…”

That frown again. You move even closer to her. You smell good, even after a night out. It’s the faint scent of your perfume, but even better, your own, signature scent… 

“What is it? You can tell me anything, you know that.”

She knows but she’s not sure if she can. Her gaze flickers away from yours, desperately finding anything other than those compassionate eyes of yours to look into.

Letting this drop from her lips in the dark somehow feels more bearable. “I sometimes think about you…”

You don’t get it at first. 

She watches your face change when you do; your frown deepens, and your eyes grow wide, looking at her flabbergasted. “Okay.”

The next minute stretches what feels like an hour, the silence weighing as heavy as the night. The nervousness eats away at Utahime. Maybe she should’ve just kept her mouth shut.

“What does this mean?”

Well, if she already said this, might as well lay herself bare. “I like you.”

This is exactly what she tried to convince herself isn’t true, again and again. But it’s true. And as the words drop from her lips, she speaks the truth.

“Me? You’re not serious?” You don’t sound angry. You sound… so surprised. So insecure. As if the implication of her liking you is somehow not comprehensible.

“I do. You’re amazing and sexy.” She says this like saying water is wet.

Utahime studies your face and watches you bury your face in the pillow, hearing a muffled stop.

A small smile dares to tug at the corner of her lips, a small spark of hope fluttering through her chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” she tries again once you look at her again. Your eyes are wide, hanging onto her lips, like hypnotized.

You open your mouth just to close it again.

Carefully, she stretches out her hand. Her fingers glide along your bottom lip, watching your eyes soften.

“Your lips are beautiful,” her fingers glide further down, along your neck “your neck” slowly she lets the straps of your top fall down your shoulders, exposing your cleavage to her. 

Her hand cups your tit, her thumb softly rubbing over your nipple, watching it harden under the stimulation. “I like your tits.”

She watches your face, watches the way your eyes widen with every word she says, observing how your breath turns more shallow.

Her hands cup your breasts, pinching your nipples between her thumb and fingers. She watches your chest heaving and your nipples hardening under her touch. She dips down low, her mouth latching onto your nipple. The sigh that drops from your parted lips makes her head spin. She lets go of you then. 

Her hand moves lower, stripping the blanket off you. Her fingers trace along your waist, your stomach, her eyes following her movement, openly taking you in. Her hand smoothes down your side, feeling the skin of your thighs.

“You’re so soft,” her voice is barely above a whisper.

“I like this,” she states boldly, her hand grabbing your ass. You yelp in surprise, a nervous, breathy chuckle falling from your parted lips. 

“What else?” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

Utahime’s hands are ceaseless now. She moves, kneeling next to you, as you lie on your back. 

Her hand cups your pussy through your panties. “I think I’m gonna like your pussy a lot.” 

You let out a low gasp. 

“You want me to find out?” She suggests, practically feeling the heat and the wetness soaking your panties. 

“Yes,” you answer breathlessly, without hesitation. Utahime becomes greedy now.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” after she doesn’t move, her palm still cupping your clothed pussy, you add a quiet “please.”

The pleading look in your eyes makes her gulp. She lets her finger trace along your panties, feeling the patch of dampness.

“Tell me again.” 

You squirm. “Utahime,” her name resounds through the room, “please.”

She takes ahold of your panties, pulling them down your legs, tossing them away. Eagerly, you open your legs for her. The moonlight highlights your wetness, your pussy glistening deliciously. She sucks in a deep breath. 

Her finger carefully traces along your slick pussy, not yet touching you where you need it the most. Her finger carefully vees around your clit. She wants to hear it, once more, just once more.

Her finger draws a circle on your clit. “You want that?”

“Yes, please,” you beg, your tone so whiny like she has never heard it before.

Slowly she starts to circle your sensitive clit, observing how your lips part, and how your hands grip the sheets next to you.

Utahime lets her fingers sink into you, watching your face scrunch up in delight, hearing a sweet moan fall from your lips. 

Her other hand presses down onto your lower stomach, her other hand thrusting into your pussy while her thumb stimulates your clit. Your widened eyes flutter shut as she fucks you with her fingers. 

It feels surreal. To have you exactly where she wanted to, how her dreams became reality. She watches her fingers disappear inside your pretty pussy, basking in the sound of your sweet voice.

The lewd sounds of your messy pussy fill up the room, mixing in with your moans and pants. Utahime swallows hard, feeling how her own panties stick to her lips.

She fucks you with her fingers, scissoring and curling them until you’re whimpering, your legs trembling.

She can already feel it, the way your pussy flutters around her slippery fingers, your wetness soaking the sheets, dripping down her hand. 

“You wanna cum for me, baby?”

“Yes, yes,” you whimper and with one more thrust of her fingers, you cum. Your pussy spasms around her fingers, your back arching off the bed.

The sounds you make travel straight to her pussy, the breathless, sinful moan of her name rolling off your tongue.  

And she watches you, observing how your chest rises and falls heavily, the way your whole body quivers because of her touch. Your eyes are fluttering deliriously against the waves of pleasures washing over you, your lips parted in ecstasy. 

You look ethereal. And she has done that to you.

Utahime guides you through it, letting her fingers rub softly over your puffy clit until you whine from the overstimulation, squirming under her touch. 

And she knows, she will never have another peaceful minute in her bed now that she had you here - looking like this. 

©sweetdreamlandstuff

[daydreaming-in-letters]

I have got SO many good pics saved, this is my time to shine! XD I feel like this could be 50/50 a meet-cute, or a meet-sexy, if you catch my drift

Hey! It has taken a moment, but it's done. I hope you don't mind I chose a different hairstyle.

warnings: language, possibly; drinking, no mentions of alcohol though; kissing; insinuation to future sexy times

This was not a normal Friday night. Far from it. All the stress of the week had vanished once you had walked through that door, probably blown away by the music which was on fire tonight. Around you, the smell of old wood and beer and bodies filled the pub. This was usually not too exciting, but above it all there was something else about tonight, something you could not quite grasp. Maybe to call it the thrill of excitement came closest to what it actually was, a feeling as if anything were possible. 

And yet it was not until halfway through the night before it finally seemed to make do on what it had promised all along. You had just taken another sip of your drink, still laughing about one of your friend’s stupid jokes, when you felt his eyes on you for the first time. You turned on instinct, just in time to catch him glancing over at you before he suddenly looked away. You could not help but smile about the slight panic that must have caused his move. Fortunately, it provided you with the opportunity now to take a good, long look at him—which turned out a little more challenging than you would have expected. 

Actually, you did not know where to look first. Maybe at his hair, those long, soft curls. He had pulled half of them up, but a few stubborn strands still refused to stay back and kept falling into his face no matter how often his long, slender fingers tried to tug them behind his ears. There were also the features of his face that competed for your attention. The prominent, thick brows for example, sitting above a pair of dark eyes. Sadly their colour was impossible to make out in the dim light. Or his beard, mh, his beard. You were such a sucker for long haired, bearded man and he just seemed to have it all. 

Luckily for you, your sight must have been just as tempting for him, as soon enough he let his eyes wander back to you. And now, he allowed you even enough time for a smile, and when he smiled back, his eyes still holding yours, you could feel your heart doing a double flip in your chest. 

The music was still booming, yet all you realised was the rolling of the bass in your stomach, everything else, the chatter, the clinking of glasses, the shuffling of feet on the ground, it was all silenced for a moment, overlaid by the feverish drum of your heartbeat. Even your mouth felt dry all of a sudden, but as you lifted your glass to your lips all that reached them were a few measly drops of liquid.

Good, you thought, it would provide you with an excuse to get closer to him. He sat next to the wall right opposite the counter, and as if fate had decided for you to make a move, there was a free spot at the bar close by. As you walked it was as if you were drawn to him, gravitating towards his chair, just to pass him by last minute. It were only a few steps to the counter now, but the weight of his stare was unmistakable, it followed you, all the way. Just as he had done, you realised after placing your order. He was just there, smiling, but that was enough to make your breath hitch in your throat. Jesus, he was tall. The kind of tall where you had to crane your neck to look into his eyes. 

“Can I buy that drink for you?”

“No, thanks, I’m good,” you said, already pushing some money across the counter top in exchange for your drink. You immediately took a sip, enjoying the confused look on his face just a moment longer. He was obviously still unsure about what had just happened, or whether he should leave. But obviously there was no way you would let that happen.

“But you could tell me your name instead.”

Immediately the brightest smile curled his lips, although his eyes were very busy watching his feet all of a sudden. Was he flustered? God, this man was so cute.

“I’m Andrew.”

How could a voice be this soft? You wanted to melt on the spot. But instead you held out your hand to him.

“Hi Andrew, nice to meet you. I’m Y/N,” you said as if you were totally unfazed, and it was almost no surprise at all that his hand was just as soft. 

From this moment on, it was easy. Almost too easy to be real. But you did not care. You had not felt this alive in a very long time. The giddiness that had befallen you was unreal. How could simply talking to someone else make you this ridiculously happy?

“Do you want to dance?”

The question came out of the blue for you, and you needed to follow his glance to understand what was going on. Over where you had stood before, your friends had somehow decided it was time to shake a leg. And with him, yes, you would have loved to join them. But something told you he was not asking you to dance with him, but whether you wanted to rejoin your friends. Those gangly limbs of his did probably not make him the most passionate dancer. 

“Another time perhaps. Right now, I am very happy exactly where I am.”

He smiled, his eyes pulling you in, and it would have taken supernatural abilities to keep track of time after that. You must have been talking and laughing for hours, until the pub was about to close. Your friends had been long gone, and so were his. 

And so you found yourself side by side, walking down the deserted streets at night. He had asked to walk you home, and this time you had not declined his offer. He was walking close to you, so close that the back of your hand had touched his a few times, always drawing his eyes to you instantly. But soon you had mercy, on him as much as on yourself. And so you allowed your finger to make contact first, letting your pinky gently glide along his, and he understood. His hand was warm, his grip just right, and as his thumb tenderly caressed yours, you knew it would be the hardest thing you had ever done to let go once the two of you had said your goodbyes.

You wished it would never have to end, but you were inevitably nearing your home. You had taken the scenic route already, stalling, being stingy with the moments you had left with him, and now there was just no way you could put this off any longer. 

“This is me then,” you said, as you came to a stop.

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the building behind you and you had no idea why until he spoke again.

“Are you sure? We could take a turn around the block just to make sure.”

His silliness made you chuckle. 

“I’m afraid I am quite certain this is where I live.”

“Shame.”

It was, you thought, as your eyes fell to the ground. 

“Andy?”

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

His answer came promptly, accompanied by a squeeze of your hand. “Please do.”

You had feared it would be awkward, asking that question, then reaching for him. But it was not. Not in the least. And when his lips touched yours for the first time, his taste rolling over your tongue, his breath mingling with yours, you were certain you would never want for anything again in your life. 

You were wrong though. You still needed air. As did he. And so you pulled away, hesitant, refusing to let go entirely as you leant your forehead against his. 

Andrew was the first to find his voice again. “Can we maybe do this again tomorrow?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Now it was him who chuckled, and he kept on smiling as you pulled out your phone and gave it to him so he could type in his number.

Then he leant down again for another—this time much too chaste for your taste—kiss.

“Night, love.”

“Night, Andy.”

He had taken a step back, your hands still entwined, tying you securely together. But then he took another and his fingers slowly slipped from your grasp. He smiled again, lips tightly pressed together, and right before he turned, he winked. A gesture so sinful it set you on fire despite the cold of the night air that surrounded you. 

You watched him walk, all the way down the street. He would soon reach his turn, when the chime of his phone cut through the silence. A text alert. Pulling the phone from his pocket without stopping, his feet instantly refused to walk as the display lit up. 

He had not noticed, but he must have started to smile, so much so his cheeks were beginning to hurt. He had never turned faster in his life.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hi was just going through the post on “hale” which was searched cause my cat is such a mediating little baby and it was a pic of stiles flirting with Derek and Scott just validating and hyping stiles up, and I wanted to know if you know or can recommend some good Scott himbo fanfics, just him being a dude bro himbo who loves stiles so much, especially with working hard to get Stiles and Derek together.

Thank you!!,! It can included as many himbo as you like!,!!!!

Yeah!

The Matchmaking Alpha (or Two Dumb Love Birds Attack) by NathTE

(1/? I 300 I Teen)

Scott was tired of seeing Stiles and Derek dancing around each other, which made it even more frustrating as he was the one both chose to come to talk about the other.

So, he decided he was going to help them realize, that their supposedly unrequited love, wasn’t that unrequited anyway.

Come Over Here And Make Me by tabbytabbytabby

(1/1 I 1,759 I Teen)

Stiles and Derek get stuck together when Scott and Mason team up and find a way to keep them trapped at Derek's. It works out better than they expected.

For the prompts: “Looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for a while.” and “Come over here and make me.”

McLinski's by StaciNadia

(1/1 I 3,075 I General)

Derek is a coffee snob looking for some good coffee, but what he finds is bad coffee jokes and maybe a whole lot more.

ones you never expected by Marishna

(1/1 I 3,832 I Mature)

A few seconds later Stiles and Derek heard the elevator start its laborious descent to the ground floor.

Stiles kept his head buried in one of the new books he picked up, scanning the passages for any keyword or phrasing that sounded similar to what their allied San Bernadino pack friends were dealing with. Finally, after three long, drawn-out minutes, Derek dropped his pen to the table and pushed back from it.

“They’re gone,” he told Stiles who stuck a piece of paper between the pages to mark his place and shut his book.

“About time! Now, strip,” he ordered.

How To Get Your Idiot Friends Together: A Four Step Process by Scott McCall by reptilianraven

(1/1 I 4,344 I General)

"He laughs at your jokes, man. How blind can you be?"

Stiles makes this face like he ate a lemon or something. "Are we talking about the same guy here? Because Derek Hale has never once laughed at my jokes."

"No, he does the thing where he exhales quickly through his nose. Like when you see something funny on the internet." Scott says and oh my god. "Stiles he thinks you're funny like how things on the internet are funny. I don't get why I have to explain this to you!"

-

In which Scott plays matchmaker because he'd probably go insane if these two idiots can't get their fucking act together.

[slide] by sonic_counselor

(1/1 I 16,506 I Mature)

He’s worked at the movie theater for just over a year now and it’s probably the best job he’s ever had, although that’s not entirely a fair comparison when the only other jobs he’s ever had involved raking leaves for Mrs. Huckabee next door and doing some filing for his dad at the station.

He’s also had a crush on Derek for just over a year, ever since his first day at the theater when their overbearing and probably certifiably insane general manager, Bobby Finstock, had declared he didn’t have time to do Stiles’ induction and had palmed him off on Derek instead because he happened to be walking past the office.

# #

Working at the movie theater alongside his crush is all getting a little too much for Stiles. It's just as well Scott, and his terrible matchmaking plans, are on hand to help out.

[summerclementine27]

Sign of The Times 🌹

Summary: Harry Styles is a Roman General who led his legions to many victories. He was favoured by the Emperor and known as an honourable General. Everyone also knows that he loves his wife, Y/N, more than anything, more than victory even, and dreams of seeing her again.

Time and place: Roman Empire sometime between 180 - 192 AD

warnings: bit of smut, breeding, and also old timey vibes due to roman era (so the smut is written in a funky old timey way but i decided to post it anyway).

notes: this is part three of my series of Harry Styles one shots that are inspired by his first album, I’m not doing the stories in order of the tracklist, and I also know that I am changing the meanings of the songs to fit the stories so for instance, sign of the times is about a mother who is dying while giving birth, but I changed it to be about a wife who is urging her husband to come back.

- pics of Harry or AI from Pinterest and the inspiration for this fic is gladiator lol.

The dust of Germania still clung to my skin, mixing with the iron scent of blood that had dried on my tunic. The battlefield had been ours, a victory to be sung by bards and etched into the annals of Rome. But as my men celebrated, raising goblets of wine to their lips, my thoughts wandered far from the camps and the spoils of war.

I could feel the ache in my side where the enemy's blade had found its mark—a shallow wound, they said. Easily mended with time and rest. Yet I craved neither the salves of the medics nor the comforts of the Roman city.

My thoughts were with Y/N, the woman who had waited for me through the years of war, who had kept my heart safe even as my body waded through the carnage of battle. The memory of her letters, the soft parchment that had borne her words across the miles, was a balm to my weary soul.

I cared for nothing as much as I cared for her, for all I prayed for during these years of battle was her safety. “Blessed father, watch over my wife with a ready sword. Whisper to her that I live only to hold her again, for all else is dust and air.” I recited every night, yearning to be in my ethereal wife's embrace once more, where the weight of the world would melt away in the serenity of her seraphic presence.

One of her last letters had arrived not long before the battle. I could still hear her voice in the words she had penned, a voice that had carried me through the darkest nights. I drew the letter from my belt, the parchment worn from too many readings, and let my eyes trace the familiar lines:

“My dearest Harry,” the letter began, “as I write this, I can feel the sun warming my skin, and I think of you, far away in the cold lands of the north. I miss you with every breath I take, and I pray for your safe return each night before I sleep. The fields here are flourishing, the olive trees heavy with fruit, but without you, this bounty feels hollow. The land awaits your return, as do I. I long for the day when you will return to me, when I can hold you in my arms once more, and we can live in peace, away from the horrors of war.”

Her words were sweet, like honeyed nectar upon the lips of a lover, gentle and soothing at first. Yet, as I read on, they grew earnest and urging, the ink heavy with her profound concern. My eyes were drawn irresistibly to the portion of her letter that held the deepest weight for my heart:

“Yet I know, as you read these words, your soul is entrenched in the depths of war, I understand that your mind is consumed with thoughts of victory, that your heart beats with the pulse of battle. But remember, my love, that while you fight for the glory of Rome, Rome shall endure, as she always has. It is you who may not, and it is you I fear to lose.”

Her words were like a gentle whisper, coaxing me back to the world beyond the battlefield. "I beg you, take care of yourself and do not tempt death, for you cannot bribe the door on your way to the sky, you cannot offer coin to the gatekeeper of the heavens, nor sway him with silver as you ascend. You look good down here on this mortal realm anyway. Do not die for Rome, live for her.”

“What shall become of us if we never learn? We have been here before, me tending to the fields of Hispania and you running from the arrows and swords, yet the two of us with the same fate; always caught stuck and running from the bullets. I know what the emperor demands of you, and I know you have led many battles to victory. You hesitate to leave, but you must, my love; you must find your way back to me. Just stop your crying, for this is but a sign of the times.

Stop your weeping, and have the time of your life. Break through the atmosphere of war and bloodshed, things are pretty good from here, Remember, everything will be alright.

Come home to me, my love, come back.”

I closed my eyes, letting the words wash over me, a balm for my weary soul. Come home to me, my love. The phrase echoed in my mind, a mantra that had sustained me through the darkest moments of the campaign. It was these words that had driven me to push forward, to fight for Rome but also to fight for my retirement. To earn the rest of my life back and spend it with my divine wife.

As I rode back to the camp, the letter tucked safely away once more, I repeated the words to myself. “Come home to me, my love.” It became a rhythm, a beat that matched the thudding of my heart, the pounding of my horse’s hooves against the ground. Each step brought me closer to her, to the life we had built together, and to the future that awaited us.

The camp was abuzz with the clamour of soldiers and the scent of roasting meat as I entered, my body still bearing the marks of battle and the weight of victory. The Emperor, draped in his imperial regalia, stood amidst his entourage, his presence commanding the respect of every man within sight. I approached with the measured steps of one who has fought hard and earned his rest.

He turned his gaze upon me, his eyes as sharp as the glint of his ornate armor. “General Styles,” he intoned, his voice carrying the authority of the throne, “when was the last time you were home?”

I stood tall, the weight of his question a heavy mantle upon my shoulders. “Two years, two hundred and sixty-four days, and this very morning,” I answered, my tone steady and resolute. The Emperor’s eyes narrowed slightly, perhaps in surprise or contemplation, as he considered my words.

His gaze lingered on me with a mixture of respect and expectation. “You have led our legions with great skill and valor, General. Rome still has need of such a commander. I urge you to remain in your esteemed position, to continue guiding our armies with the same honor and prowess you have so richly displayed.”

A solemn silence fell over the tent, the air thick with the weight of his request. I took a deep breath, my thoughts drifting back to the letter from my beloved wife, and to the quiet promise of peace that awaited me.

“Your Excellency,” I began, my voice steady but imbued with the gravity of my decision, “I have fought and bled for Rome, and I have served with every ounce of my strength. But my heart and soul yearn for a different path now. I have earned this respite, this time to lay down my sword and return to the life I once knew.”

The Emperor regarded me with a measure of frustration, his fingers drumming upon the armrest of his gilded throne. “You have been a pillar of our military might, General. To leave now, at the zenith of your glory, seems a disservice to the empire that has benefited so greatly from your leadership.”

I met his gaze with unwavering resolve, feeling the echoes of my wife’s words in my heart. “It is not disservice, but rather a fulfillment of a promise I made to myself and to her. I seek not glory nor honor from further battles, but the simple joy of returning to my wife and the life we dream of. My time as a general has been an honor, but it is time for me to embrace a different chapter, one of peace and companionship.”

The Emperor’s expression softened, a flicker of understanding—or perhaps resignation—crossing his features. “Very well, General Styles,” he conceded, his voice carrying a note of reluctant admiration. “If it is your wish to retire and seek solace in the embrace of your beloved, then it shall be granted. Rome’s gratitude will follow you, and your legacy will endure.”

I bowed deeply, the weight of my decision finally lifting from my shoulders. As I walked away, I felt a sense of anticipation and relief wash over me, knowing that soon I would return to the fields of Hispania, to the life and love that awaited me.

"My lord," one of the younger centurions approached me as I prepared to leave camp, a bandage in hand. "We must bind your wound."

I waved him off, though I knew the pain would only worsen on the long ride home. "I'll let my wife take care of me," I said, the words tasting sweet on my tongue, like the promise of harvest in a fertile field.

The journey back to Hispania was slow, each day stretching out like the endless plains we crossed. My thoughts were full of her—Y/N, my beloved, my anchor amidst the storms of war. The land of our villa in Hispania, a sprawling expanse of olive trees and vineyards, awaited me. But it was her presence, her tender touch, that I yearned for with each passing mile.

As my horse’s hooves drummed against the sun-baked earth, I imagined her in the fields, the wind tugging at her hair as she worked, her hands—those skilled, delicate hands—tending to the earth as she did to me. I could see her smile, that secret curve of her lips that had the power to unravel me more than any barbarian’s sword.

Finally, the fields of our home came into view, the golden light of evening casting a warm glow over the land. My heart quickened as I urged my horse forward, a boyish impatience overtaking me.

As I dismounted my horse and set foot on the familiar ground of our estate, I saw her standing there—my beloved, just as I had envisioned, her figure framed by the setting sun, a basket of olives in her arms.

The moment our eyes met, a wave of joy surged through me, overpowering the aches and weariness of battle. Her face, illuminated by the soft glow of the setting sun, radiated a warmth and love that I had sorely missed.

Without hesitation, she ran to me, her movements swift and graceful. The air seemed to hum with the electricity of our reunion. As she enveloped me in her embrace, I was struck by the intoxicating scent of her—lavender mingled with the faint, sweet aroma of the earth, a perfume that spoke of home and tranquility. It was as if every hardship and wound I bore dissolved in the presence of her love.

Her arms, tender and gentle, clung to me with a fierce affection. I could feel the softness of her skin against my own, a stark contrast to the roughened textures of my armor and the hardened scars of war. Her touch was both soothing and electric, a balm for my bruised soul.

As our lips met, her kiss was a sweet, fervent promise, a bridge between the years of separation. Yet, as I pressed closer, a sharp twinge from the wound on my side made me wince. She noticed instantly, her eyes filled with concern.

“Harry,” she breathed, her voice soft and filled with an anguish that mirrored my own. Her fingers, delicate and gentle, brushed against the tender spot on my side. “You’re hurt…”

“It’s nothing,” I murmured, my voice barely more than a whisper as I drew her even closer. I buried my face in the curve of her neck, inhaling deeply. The scent of her, the very essence of comfort and love, was a haven amidst the chaos of my return. “Nothing that your touch cannot heal.”

She led me inside, her movements tender and deliberate as if each step was meant to convey her deep affection and concern. The grand hall, though warmly lit by the flickering glow of the hearth, could not compare to the solace I found in her presence. As I sank into a plush chair beside the roaring fire, the heat from the flames did little to ease the persistent ache in my chest that only her touch could truly soothe.

I watched her with a heart full of gratitude as she worked with quiet diligence, her hands gentle yet skilled as she unwrapped the makeshift bandage and began to clean the wound. Her brow furrowed in concentration, each touch and movement imbued with a mixture of love and worry that spoke volumes of her care.

“You should have let the medics tend to you,” she chided softly, her voice a tender reprimand laced with concern rather than anger. The chiding was a balm, soothing and familiar, reminding me of the times we had shared before the endless battles.

“And miss the chance to be in your care?” I replied, my voice hushed but earnest. I reached up, my hand cradling her cheek, my thumb gently caressing the delicate curve. “I’d rather bleed out.”

Her lips curled into a small, affectionate smile despite her worry. She shook her head, her eyes reflecting a mixture of exasperation and adoration. “You’re too stubborn for your own good, General.”

“For Rome, perhaps,” I said, my thumb brushing tenderly against her skin, “but not for you.”

Once she was satisfied with the bandage, carefully wrapping it with a practiced hand, I drew her into my lap. The firelight danced in her eyes, casting a warm glow that made her seem even more ethereal. Her body fit perfectly against mine, the familiar curves and warmth a reminder of all that I had missed. As our eyes met, the hunger in mine was mirrored by the tender longing in hers.

“I’ve been gone too long,” I whispered, my lips finding their way to her neck. I trailed kisses along her soft skin, savoring the sweetness of her closeness. “I have missed you more than words can convey.”

Her hands wove into my hair, fingers trembling slightly as she tilted her head back, offering me more of herself. “And I you,” she whispered, her voice a soft melody that seemed to float between us, a song of longing and love that had played in my dreams during our separation.

I lifted her effortlessly, cradling her in my arms as I carried her towards our bed—the same one we had shared since our wedding night, a sanctuary of our love and devotion. The silks beneath us felt cool and luxurious as I laid her down, the gentle moonlight streaming through the windows, casting a silvery glow that highlighted the exquisite beauty of her form.

As I undressed her with a reverence that bordered on worship, I whispered against her lips, my voice a soft murmur filled with longing and affection. “I have won many battles,” I said, my fingers tracing the curves of her body with a tender touch, as if trying to memorize every line and contour. “But none so sweet as the victory of coming home to you.”

Her hands, delicate yet determined, moved to the laces of my tunic, undoing them with a familiar urgency that made my heart race. “Then claim your victory,” she breathed, her voice trembling with a mix of desire and anticipation.

I lifted her into my arms, cradling her with a gentleness that belied the strength I had honed on the battlefield. As I carried her to our bed, my heart pounded not from the exertion, but from the overwhelming love I felt for her. The silk sheets, cool beneath us, seemed to whisper promises of solace and intimacy as I laid her down.

The moonlight streaming through the windows cast a soft, silvery glow upon her, making her skin shimmer like alabaster. I gazed at her with a deep, aching adoration, my eyes tracing the graceful lines of her form. Her beauty was both a balm and a flame, soothing the wounds of my soul and igniting a fierce, tender hunger within me.

I began by brushing my lips against hers, savoring the sweetness of her kiss as if it were the nectar of the gods. The taste of her was intoxicating, a blend of warmth and familiarity that made my heart swell. I lingered there, lost in the softness of her lips, my hands gently caressing her face, committing every detail of her to memory.

Slowly, I trailed kisses down her neck, my lips lingering on her pulse point. The sensation of her warm skin beneath my mouth was a caress to my senses, and I felt the urgency of our reunion deepen with every touch. Her breath quickened, mingling with mine, as I moved lower, pressing my lips to the delicate curve of her collarbone.

With trembling fingers, I worked at the laces of her dress, the fabric white and pure, reminiscent of the gown she had worn on our wedding day. As I loosened it, the dress fell away, revealing the soft, flawless skin beneath. My gaze was ravenous yet reverent, taking in every inch of her with a fervor that spoke of my adoration and longing.

I kissed her shoulders with a devotion that made each touch a silent vow. My lips traveled down her arms, leaving a trail of tender kisses that made her shiver with delight. Each kiss was an offering, a testament to the depth of my love for her. As I reached her breasts, I pressed my lips to the soft curves, my tongue exploring with a reverence that bordered on worship.

My kisses continued their journey down her stomach, lingering at the gentle rise and fall of her ribs, tracing the lines of her hips. I marveled at the warmth and softness of her skin, my hands following the path my lips had taken, reverently mapping every contour. The sensation of her skin beneath my touch was a heady mix of comfort and desire.

When I finally reached her most intimate place, I paused, my breath coming in ragged whispers. My heart raced with a powerful mix of longing and adoration. The moment was charged with an intensity I had yearned for during the long years apart, and I could feel the heat of her skin beneath my lips.

With a deep, reverent kiss, I pressed my lips against her, my tongue gently exploring the softness and warmth of her. Her taste was intoxicating, and the sensation made my entire body shiver with pleasure. I heard her gasp, a soft, breathless sound that urged me on.

Her hands gripped the sheets, and I could feel her hips moving subtly, seeking more of the contact she craved. "Harry," she moaned softly, her voice a desperate whisper of desire.

I looked up at her, my eyes filled with devotion and love. "You feel so incredible," I murmured, my voice thick with emotion. "I want you to know just how much I adore every part of you."

She responded with a breathless sigh, her body arching instinctively towards me. "Please, don't stop," she pleaded, her voice trembling with anticipation.

My kisses became more fervent, turning into reckless licks, my movements ever so insistent as I reveled in the sweet, warm taste of her. The sounds of our pleasure filled the room, a symphony of soft moans and urgent whispers that only deepened my desire.

I was consumed with a profound longing for her, a desire that had only grown more fervent over the long years apart. Every moment of our separation had amplified my need to show her the depth of my affection, to make her experience the boundless pleasure that only I could bestow. I was keenly aware of the passage of time and wondered if she had discovered any means to reach such ecstatic heights as I would now bring her. The thought of her satisfaction, the notion of her feeling pleasure as intensely as I had imagined, drove me to the brink of my restraint.

With my touch, I sought to awaken her senses, my fingers caressing her with an ever-gentle firmness, the warmth of my hands mingling with her soft skin. My other hand began a tender exploration, slipping slowly, reverently, into her most cherished sanctuary. Each movement was deliberate, intended to elicit the utmost response from her.

“You like that, my dearest?” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion and desire, my breath hot against her ear.

“Yes, I do,” she replied, her voice a melody of pleasure and anticipation, her breath catching in soft gasps.

“I am determined to make you feel nothing but bliss,” I continued, my heart pounding with the intensity of my commitment. “I wish to taste and honor this sacred chamber of Venus, to give you pleasure that will leave you breathless and yearning.”

I leaned closer, my lips finding their way to her most intimate folds. With tender, loving care, I began to explore her, each kiss a testament to my devotion, each touch a silent vow of my love. My goal was to bring her to the pinnacle of delight, to ensure that every sensation was as exquisite and overwhelming as possible, so that she might feel the depth of my longing and the fullness of my return.

In the quiet sanctuary of our shared chamber, a question lingered on my lips, charged with both tenderness and longing. “Did you pleasure yourself while I was gone” I inquired, my voice a gentle murmur.

Her reply came softly, laden with devotion and a hint of wistfulness. “No, my love. I awaited your return.”

Her words stirred something profound within me, an awakening of emotions that had lain dormant through the years of separation. I felt a deep, aching desire to make amends for all the time lost, to bestow upon her the pleasure that had been denied to both of us.

“I yearn for you to find your release, my dearest Y/N,” I said, my voice trembling with fervent intensity. “Release it all, love.”

As her body trembled with the aftershocks of her climax, I could feel the shudder of her release against my tongue. The sweetness of her pleasure was intoxicating, a testament to the depth of our connection. In that moment, I knew that we both craved something more profound, a union that would fulfill the yearning that had grown between us over the years.

With a fervent determination, I slowly withdrew, my breath ragged and my heart pounding with a mix of longing and anticipation. I positioned myself above her, our eyes meeting in a gaze filled with mutual desire and unspoken promises. The need to be fully united with her, to deepen our connection, surged within me.

Her gaze was filled with trust and desire, and I moved with a tenderness that spoke of my deep affection and longing. Slowly, deliberately, I entered her, feeling the warmth and softness envelop me and savoring the way she wrapped around me, the way she sighed my name as if it were a prayer.

“Harry,” she moaned, and I grew concerned, fearing that the unfamiliarity of my touch after so long might be causing her discomfort.

“Are you alright, my love?” I murmured, my voice low and tender, brushing a lock of hair from her face. Her eyes met mine, filled with a mix of pain and yearning.

“Just... a bit,” she replied, her voice trembling with the effort to contain her emotions.

I continued to move with gentle persistence, my hands exploring her body, seeking to soothe her discomfort. As I found a rhythm, she began to relax, her moans growing more fervent, more eager. The shift from discomfort to pleasure was evident in the way her body responded, and I felt a deep satisfaction in knowing that I was bringing her the release she had longed for.

“Tell me, my love,” I whispered, pressing my forehead to hers as we moved together, “how does it feel?”

“It feels... so much better,” she gasped, her nails digging into my shoulders as her body arched beneath me. “Harry, yes…”

“I want to give you more,” I said, my voice rough with emotion. “A family, a future... I want to watch you swell with our child, to retire from the battlefield and spend my days here, with you.”

Her breath hitched at my words, and her eyes shone with a mix of desire and longing. “Yes, Harry… I want that too,” she whispered, her voice a melody of affection and need.

As we continued, I found a rhythm that was both passionate and tender, the connection between us deepening with every movement. I kissed her lips, my hands roaming over her body, savoring the softness and warmth of her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed as she lost herself in the sensation, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer intimacy of our union.

“I will plant my seed in you,” I vowed, my voice filled with raw emotion. “And you will carry our legacy. Our child will grow strong in your womb, just as our love has grown in this land.”

Her climax hit with a shuddering intensity, her body tightening around me as she cried out my name. The sound was both a release and an invitation, and I followed her over the edge, spilling into her with a groan that echoed my deepest feelings. In that moment, I imagined the life we would create together, the child that would be born of our union.

As we lay entwined in the soft embrace of our bed, the flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over our bodies. The silks beneath us were cool and comforting, a stark contrast to the heat of our passionate union. The scent of her, a delicate blend of lavender and the earthiness of our garden, filled the air and enveloped me, mingling with the aroma of our shared pleasure.

Her skin felt like silk against my fingertips as I traced lazy patterns across her shoulders and down her sides. Her breathing was slow and deep, a soft rhythm that matched the steady beat of my heart. Every sigh and murmur from her lips was a melody I’d missed more than I realized during our years apart.

“You look radiant,” I murmured, my voice thick with emotion as I gazed at her. Her hair was a tangled cascade of dark curls, spread across the pillow like a halo. Her eyes, still clouded with the remnants of our passion, sparkled with a light that seemed to illuminate the room. “I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long.”

She turned her head slightly to meet my gaze, her lips curved into a smile that was both teasing and tender. “And I’ve waited for it just as long,” she replied, her voice a soft caress. “You’re as wonderful as I remembered, Harry. I’m so proud of you, all you’ve accomplished. And this house—” she gestured vaguely around us, “—it’s been my joy to care for it, to make it a place where you could return and feel at home.”

Her fingers traced a gentle path along my chest, sending shivers of pleasure through me. I cupped her cheek, my thumb brushing across her soft skin, and leaned in to press a tender kiss to her forehead. “I’m proud of you too, for everything. For holding our home together while I was away, for your strength and your love. It means the world to me.”

Her eyes softened, and she nestled closer, her body pressed against mine in a way that made me acutely aware of the new life we had created together. “And now,” she whispered, her voice filled with awe and wonder, “we have something even greater to look forward to. I’m honored to carry our child, Harry.”

I let out a deep, contented sigh, my hands resting on her still-flat belly. “You’re going to be breathtakingly beautiful with our child growing inside you,” I said, my voice husky with anticipation. “I can already imagine the way you’ll glow, the way your body will flourish as you carry our little one. You’ll be radiant, like a goddess.”

Her laughter was soft and musical, a sound that filled me with an overwhelming sense of happiness. “I can’t wait to see you as a father,” she said, her eyes shining with love. “Our child will be so lucky to have you.”

I kissed her again, this time more deeply, my hands roaming over her curves with reverence. “And I can’t wait to watch our family grow,” I said. “I imagine them running through our garden, playing in the sun, filling our home with laughter and joy. We’ll watch them grow, teach them, love them. It will be a new adventure, one that I’m eager to begin.”

Her smile widened, and she traced a finger along my jawline, her touch light and playful. “And I’ll be right here with you, every step of the way. Together, we’ll build a life full of love and happiness.”

As we lay there, our bodies intertwined, the weight of the past seemed to lift from our shoulders. The wars, the battles, the bloodshed—they were behind us. What lay ahead was a new journey, one of love and life, and I knew that with her by my side, it was a victory I would cherish for all my days.

[blues-of-randomness]

could you do more headcanons for the Smiling critters please

(Maybe when they’re Sad )

Good suggestion and yes I can.

Cw for self harm and involuntary age regression

Catnap - When Catnap gets really sad he retreats to his home and hides there for who knows how long, it could be days or even months before he comes out again. All the curtains drawn, not a single like in the house, if you're hoping for Catnap to eat or drink during this time peroid, other than a cup of juice or two...it's very wishful thinking. he'll most likely just be laying around on the floor or on the furniture. This is also when involuntary agere sets in, during this time he just feels so small and even simple tasks are two scary or frustrating for him (like brushing his teeth or even turning on the lights). During this time he might just were a bathrobe or his pajamas for some form of comfort. He'll hug himself and squeeze his arms very tightly, most of the time his claws are out when he does this so it leads to him cutting himself frequently. I have a feeling he might also wear dresses as a comfort.

Dogday - Remember that MLP episode where Pinkie pie lost her color cause she thought her friends didn't like her anymore? Yeah that's basically Dogday when he gets sad, any bright colors drain from his fur and his smile fades from his face. In my Dogday headcanons I mentioned that his fur feel like a warm mini sun, well when he's sad his fur becomes frigid cold. Unlike Catnap though Dogday still spends time outside, looking for anything that could cheer him up as quick as possible. He still has a hard time talking about what made him upset but he'll try. if what made him said was say him disappointing his friends he'll have a lot of self depricating thoughts (specfically about falling them in some way). he's not nearly as self destructive as Catnap is though, he still takes care of himself. I'll be honest though I could see Dogday having a tea party with stuffed animals when he's sad.

When Kickin gets sad he just gets angry. Like any kind of sorrowful feeling will vented through aggression before the tears eventually come. You can't tell me that Kickin hasn't gotten super overwhelmed thrown himself to the ground and started having a tantrum like a little baby. Kicken grew up with a father with very toxic views on how men should behave so he's not very comfortable crying in front of anybody. The only one who's seen him cry is Bubba, Bubba is reall the only one he's go two if he's sad. he might all himself stupid or an idiot depending on what he's crying about. He also has a teddy bear that he talks to when he's upset.

Bubba is a man who doesn't were his emotions on his sleeves per say as he always tries to keep his cool. You wouldn't even realize he's upset unless he get's really upset. Like Kickin, his sadness comes out as anger, he does cry but not often and not in front of his friends. Bubba would probably be the type to just pick of book or try to do some brain puzzles in order to take his mind of what he's upset about, if that doesn't work he tries to solve the problem on his own.

Hoppy is another critter who i imagine can get very aggressive when she's sad. Her first instinct is just to walk away, blow off the steam and come back when she's ready. She might yell or hop and down depending on how frustrated she is but she would take a deep breath and say "I need to go for a walk" or something like that. She prefers to do this alone but she wouldn't say no if you offered to walk with her and talk about it. It actually means a lot to her that you'd wanna help her.

Picky's ultimate coping mechanism is food though contrary to when she's stressed and stress eats, i feel like when she's sad she makes treats for everyone else. Since she already makes an unholy amount of food for everyone, espically when their doing an activity or going on a trip this just seems like her normal behavoir. Other than baking she might do something calming like apple/berry/flower picking. A nice picnic is also a good way to calm down.

What does any Artist do when they are upset or down in the dumps? Dump every single raw emotion on anything that doesn't move. Craftycorn has had her far share of vent pieces, some she's actually proud of, some that are just nonsensial scribbles soaked in tears. The only vent pieces her friends have seen are the ones that look cute and don't have any concerning elements to it. All the others go straight into the fire, those are not for the critter eye to see. Music, blankets and toys also help.

Bobby is a very emotional person, when she gets really upset it is instant tears or instant bawling. It's real easy to calm her down though, give her a hug, a flower, take her somewhere safe, play a game with her, and voila! If you couldn't tell she does not like being alone when she's upset, She'll cling to the closest person until she isn't upset anymore. If she's bawling she'll be begging you for a hug, she won't make yu hug you if you're uncomfortable with that though.

[deafeningbasementcolor]

Mine at First Sight - Yandere! Feitan x Reader

Warnings: Yandere Feitan x Reader, F! Reader, Virginity, Forced Infantilism, Daddy Kink, Kidnapping, mention of collaring reader, mention of noncon/dubcom

Please respect my wishes and do not engage in my work unless you are over the age of eighteen.

Look at you, poor little darling girl. Do you even know what you're getting into? He smiles at the sight of you from across the dining table, your flushed cheeks and shy expression as he grabs your hand when you wave it around for emphasis as you tell him some story. Precious. Absolutely adorable.

He wasn't a fan of dating apps. He also wasn't lonely, and before this had not had a single care about not having a warm body in his bed at night. He hadn't even been the one to message you. That had been Phinks, the other spider snorting at some message you sent him. Feitan had glanced over, accidentally seeing the message you sent in reply to a request for nudes. Oh, how innocently you gave up the information of your inexperience. Phinks wasn't the kind to be interested in slowly guiding virgins who wouldn't even send saucy pics. Feitan normally wasn't either.

He wasn't sure why you enticed him. If he needed a fuck, it was easy enough to procure one in a warm cunt of some whore trying to trade sex for her life. He had to admit he was grateful to Phinks got to ghosting you the second Feitan told him to. The other spider did have a few good laughs over Feitan being in love, but it was worth dealing with in order to not have the headache of fighting another troupe member for your hand.

"I'm done." He announced, halfway through the meal. You stop your giggly tale, face filled with humiliation.

"Oh, um, okay. No problem." He smiles again at your response. Such a delicate thing. He isn't used to finding someone so charming, especially someone so pathetic.

"Get up." He commands, and you look so confused. He doesn't give you time to argue, not wanting to have you recieve a punishment so soon. He instead walks to your side of the table and yanks you up, ignoring your startled gasp. He sat your date next to an exit on purpose, pulling you out the door before any attention is drawn to you.

"Good girl, not screaming," he praises, ignoring the whimper of fear that leaves you. "I hate this dress." You looked pretty, but he had already decided he would be in charge of everything now, including what you wore. And this whorish red dress? It was much too slutty for his princess. He produces a knife, gagging you by shoving fingers down your throat when you open your mouth to protest. You drool around them, as he slices off your dress. The cold air would make you tremble, if you weren't already squirming in fear. He can't resist fucking his fingers further down your throat, as he hauls you to the car.

Shalnark chuckles from the front seat. "Sick man," He calls Feitan with an amused and chipper tone. Feitan sits in the back with you, beginning to dress you in your new outfit as Shalnark begins to speed down the street. He forces you into a top announcing you were, 'Daddy's Princess,' and a soft pair of cotton shorts. You don't notice the words on the shirt yet as you whimper from his manhandling, drool drenching your chin when he finally yanks his fingers from your mouth. He watches in amusement when you realize, your eyes widening in terror.

"Why are you upset?" He asks, as if he doesn't know. He doesn't give you time to answer. "That's what you are now." He licks your drool from his fingers, moaning at the taste of your saliva. You're addicting. If he didn't think he would get grief for it from Shalnark, he would fuck you right now. "Speed up." He tells Shalnark.

"Calm down, she isn't going to disappear!" Shalnark laughs, but obliges him. Feitan holds you close, ignoring the look of horror on your face. When they reach the hideout, he plans on taking your virginity. He's got a pretty pink collar, just for you, and some toys sweet little girls like you like. Feitan knows training you to happily play dolls will take time, but he can't wait.

He can get a warm cunt anywhere, after all. He can cause pain whenever he want to. But his beautiful girl, with those big innocent eyes sparking up at her Daddy? His princess, whining about five more minutes to play with her toys until he shuts her up with his cock? That's something special, just between the two of you. He couldn't wait.

[ships-n-bats]

Putting under read more 'cause it kind of turned out way longer than intended and has big images attached. ^^'

Warning: I literally am reviewing and judging sketches Kub0 drew of the Ichi//Hime fam post-manga and just being critical of I//H as a whole.

“Kub0 has yet to release any artwork of the Ichi//Hime family together!”

I just recently recalled this statement made years ago by anti I//Hs and became rather curious over whether or not this statement was still true or not. It’s been about 8+ years since the manga ended and I//H became canon with their mini-me child being revealed alongside. So, out of genuine curiosity, I decided to see if Kub0 had since drawn the I//H family in any capacity.

Only to discover that, nope, he indeed had not.

The closest I could find of any drawings made by Kub0 that involved Ichig0's family post-manga were these two sketches he made:

A sketch of Ichig0 and Kαzui with Kub0's signature.

And the pic he drew of Ichig0 with Kαzui during quarantine (which I will admit is super adorable omg).

Two pictures featuring a father and his son.

But! You'll notice with both of these sketches, 0rihime is missing. You know, the wife of Ichig0 and mother to said child?? She's not so much as shown in the background or right there alongside her husband and kid! She's just, not present what-so-ever...

And the saddest part? When I tried searching for any sketches Kub0 made of Kαzui with 0rihime, nothing came up. Not a single sketch featuring mother and son. I only found those two pics of Kαzui with his father. That's it.

And there wasn't a single sketch that had all three of them together.

The closest I could find was of an edited version of the quarantine pic an I//H fan drew where they added 0rihime in. That's right, an I//H fan had to add 0rihime into the sketch in order to get a proper Ichi//Hime family pic, because Mr. Tite Kub0 couldn't be bothered to do so himself in the first place. I also found other edited pics that just took separate pics of the three and mashed them together, which is just... sad.

I think the closest there's been to the three being seen together as a family was in the manga and even that is a bit of a stretch.

This then led me to see if Kub0 had since drawn Ichig0 and 0rihime together and came up with two more sketches:

A sketch of the two standing next to each other, looking at one another.

Another sketch of the two's portraits.

And just like with the previous two pics, I noticed something about both pics. In the first one, 0rihime and Ichig0 are keeping a distance between themselves, and the sketch overall is rather simplistic and not really readable. I can barely make out either of their expressions, though 0rihime looks shocked? Confused?? idk Meanwhile, Ichig0 looks either blank or irritated? He might be talking to her??

As for the second sketch, Ichig0 looks like he had more time and effort put into his portrait, while 0rihime looks thrown in last second. Given how much bigger Ichig0 is, it gives off the impression that Kub0 drew a pic of Ichig0 first, and then added 0rihime off to the side, in the background, which explains why she's so small and seems tacked on. You can essentially remove her from the sketch entirely as she doesn't look part of it as a whole.

Also, this same sketch had an I//H shipper tack on Kαzui to try and make it a family pic, just like with the other one.

Despite Kub0 canonizing Ichig0 and 0rihime as a married couple with a kid, despite it being nearly a decade now, despite I//H shippers asking Kub0 to give more details about how the two got together and what their relationship is like as a family and couple, he still hasn't bothered to actually give the Ichi//Hime fam any proper spotlight.

I hate bringing up other mangas for comparison, but even Nαruto, despite its own controversial ending and endgame ships, showcased some sweet family moments with their next gen families and even had cute couple-y moments between the endgame pairs. Kishim0t0 at least bothered to put some effort into trying to sell his endgame ships to fans. Meanwhile, Kub0 has left I//H high and dry of any basic domestic fluff.

And honestly?

I just find that to be plain sad. Sad that even though a pairing is made canon, is made to be married with a child, there's still this lack of intimacy between the two. Yes, many I//H antis have pointed out how much Ichig0 and 0rihime lacked development and intimacy prior to the ending, but it's post-ending where I feel the failure of I//H really comes to ahead.

I//H stans tend to use Ichig0 and 0rihime's marriage and product of their consummation as a crutch or a "got'cha" to prove them being canon somehow means they're a perfect pairing. But it really doesn't mean anything if there's no real intimacy outside of a legal piece of paper and offspring. Those two things don't prove anything and shouldn't be used as evidence for a happy, healthy relationship.

Because, despite what is believed by many, a marriage and kids does not automatically translate to a good relationship. People can be married with kids and still be unhappy or lack real closeness or intimacy in their relationship. Just like how the alternative (i.e. not married and no kids), can mean a happy and close relationship. Basically, a marriage and children are not required nor are proof of a happy, healthy relationship.

Kub0 himself has already proven to me that he doesn't even care about Ichi//Hime as a pairing, despite the marriage and kid. He hasn't shown that Ichig0 and 0rihime are close and seems to actively avoid drawing the family together, leading the fans to do so for him out of desperation. He was more than happy to show 0rihime's one-sided devotion towards Ichig0 throughout the manga, but never bothered to show Ichig0 ever returning those feelings, and then just ended with the two married with a son. Only later offhandedly mentioning that the two got together sometime after university when a fan asked him about it. And Ichig0 had to be prompted by his friends to make a move on her, not because he did so on his own accord.

Ichi//Hime may be endgame canon, but it's still hollow and empty.

Update 7/9/24

I had actually forgotten about another pic Kub0 did and was only recently reminded of it by a twt user.

The pic features Ichig0, Rukiα, Ichikα, and Kαzui altogether.

And I have to agree with the twt user’s assessment on it, it does look like an accidental family pic. I can totally see some people who aren’t familiar with Bleαch taking this out of context and mistaking Rukiα and Ichig0 as the parents. It’s a very cute and silly sketch too, with Rukiα and Kαzui messing around with Ichig0 and Ichikα dealing with their antics. An overall happy, wholesome pic.

Which makes the fact that Kub0 drew Rukiα alongside Kαzui and not his own mother, 0rihime, all the more noticeable and depressing. It really does feel like Kub0 is actively avoiding making any happy I//H fam material. He always falls back on drawing Ichig0 and Rukiα together (which he has admitted to enjoy doing).

[writingsofwesteros]

https://www.tumblr.com/writingsofwesteros/755006614866657280/these-pics-give-me-an-idea-for-a-canon-au-idea?source=share

The council is shocked that morning when Ser Criston returns to his post as Lord Commander, and Aemond is made Hand of the King. Though she might not be present physically in those meetings, it is clear to the Green Council lords who really rules the realm- Princess Daenora, through her unwavering hold on both brothers. Alicent isn't too pleased- her daughter is able to rein in her sons in a way Alicent cannot, and she clearly has more power than Alicent ever had, and she doesn't even wear a crown. "Daenora," Alicent steps into her daughter's sitting room. "Mother," Nora smiled up at her, a knowing smirk gracing her lips. She was no fool, she knew of much that took place in the Red Keep.

"It would be best if you left the matters of ruling to the council," Alicent said stiffly. "It is not suitable for you to take advantage of your brothers' affection for you-" "And do you not take advantage of Ser Criston's affection for you, Lady Mother?" Nora countered. Alicent's face paled. "I wonder where Ser Criston was, that night," Nora stood, circling her Mother. "The night that my sweet, poor, innocent nephew was slain at Uncle Daemon's order." "You know not-" "Believe me, Mother. I know more than you think. You cling to notions of diplomacy, of a peaceful resolution- do you not see that we are at war? You were strangely silent when Aegon, when any of us needed comfort when Jaehaerys was taken- yet your tongue is ablaze today when you are reminded of just how weak your influence in that room truly is." Nora said firmly.

"I mourned him, he was my grandson-" "We would not need to mourn him, if the Lord Commander had done his job," Nora snapped. "Instead of having my mother ride him like the whore of Oldtown-" "Do not speak to me in such manner," Alicent hissed. "Do not think I am unaware of your indiscretions, daughter, of where you have ventured in the night." "Oh? And tell me, which of our indiscretions has caused more damage." She challenged. Alicent remained silent- she had long tried to handle Daenora's fiery nature, but the death of Jaehaerys had wounded them all, and now she was a dragon ready to burn. "You must accept this is what things are now. Lucerys is dead. Jaehaerys is dead. There is no peaceful resolution, no treaty. Blood has been drawn, and there is no coming back from it." Alicent realises that she can't deny her daughter's power at court, at council, anymore. Also, in canon era, I was thinking Nora would ride Silverwing? Not sure, which dragon suits her?

"I am not to blame for what happened to Jaehaerys. If your brother was not so desiring to drink; his guards would be where they had been needed." Alicent snapped. Her doe eyes looked her daughter up and down with a scoff.

All she could see was another version of the spoiled Princess that was Rhaenyra. "You should take my seat, daughter. Enjoy it." Alicent only smirked before brushing past her.

Silverwing is cute! Seemingly docile but changes in an instant. love it !!

[illfoandillfie]

Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

Pairing: Rich Fuckboy!Ben Hardy x Fem!Reader

Summery:  An unexpected call from Ben results in an unexpected evening.

Warnings: Smut (18+), Rich kid dickishness, dom/sub dynamics, mostly dom ben and sub reader, but also a little round the other way, a fair bit of derogatory/degrading language (esp whore), edging, cockwarming, a little spanking, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, piv sex, begging, bondage, forced orgasm. I think thats all.

Words: 12,890

A/N: Wasn't necessarily planning to write more of rich bitch Benny but then I saw some promo pics for his movie Love At First Sight and something in my brain booted up. This was written over a stupidly long time, literally months, so hopefully its okay lmao. Also please excuse any weird formatting. The way tumblr works, paragraphs can't be more than 4096 characters so some of the dialogue had to be broken up to make it postable.

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming@queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

“You get two questions.”  “Five,” Bianca countered.  “Two. I want to have a shower.”  “Fine.” She agreed, disgruntled. Bianca had ambushed you the second you got home, having stayed up waiting on the couch to hear all about your date with Ben. She’d listened patiently, laughing or nodding and squealing a little, as you told her about the restaurant he’d chosen and the club and ending up on the yacht. But when you’d admitted you had slept with him, she got so excited you were a little worried she’d forget to breathe. Bianca thought for a moment, choosing which of her questions were most worth asking, “Okay, one, was he good? Like did you get off?”  “Yeah, he was very good,” you smiled to yourself thinking about just how good he’d been, following all your orders.  Bianca seemed a little relieved that the exceptional lover she’d fantasised about so many times could live up to the image. “Was he into any weird kinks?”  You thought for a moment, contemplating how little you could get away with saying, “Nothing super unusual. But y’know that’s stuff you don’t necessarily bring out the first time.”  “Nothing kinky? Not even like some bondage or spitting or anything?”  “You asked me about weird! Yeah there was a little bondage. Spanking too.” 

"I knew it!” she said before the loudest squeal yet and you hurried to shush her before a neighbour complained.  “He was hung right? Please god tell me he was hung.”  “Thats more than two questions.”  “Fuck, c’mon Y/N. Just describe his dick for me. I've been trying to picture it for years, it’d be mean of you not to tell me.”  You laughed, enjoying teasing her but you felt a little bad for sleeping with her celebrity crush so held up your hands to demonstrate an approximate length, “Comparisons could be drawn to horses.”  Her eyes lit up like it was Christmas, “I knew it.”  “He wasn’t super thick but he was decently long. Nothing crazy but more than enough. Very slight curve.”  She’d closed her eyes and hummed as you described him, “It’s beautiful,” she said dreamily.  Laughing, you bid her goodnight, looking forward to showering and then heading to bed, but once more she stopped you.   “Wait, are you going to sell the story?”  “Oh, I can’t. He made me sign an NDA. I’ve probably said too much already so don’t go repeating it okay.”  “So that’s why no one ever spills too many details.”  “Yeah, must be.” You felt a little bad for lying but you really wanted to shower, and you knew she’d ask more questions if you admitted you didn’t want to tell anyone now. If the night had gone more to Ben’s plan, if you’d let him be in control, you wouldn’t have had any qualms about writing to a magazine with the big scoop. But he’d obviously cultivated a particular image in the public conscious, one that didn’t necessarily align with ideas of him as a willing, even eager, submissive. The thought of selling that story made you feel dirty in a way the other versions just wouldn’t. So, at the end of the night you’d promised to keep it a secret, even if that meant remaining poor. You’d gotten to domme The Benjamin Hardy after all, what more did you need.

As it happened, it wasn’t so much what you needed, but rather what Ben did. Around two weeks after your night together, you answered a call from a private number, hoping it wasn’t a scam caller. Your surprise at hearing Ben’s voice saying your name was rivalled only by his apparent surprise that he was calling.  “Um, what’s this about?” you felt entirely caught off guard.  “I- well, I guess I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me tonight?” It didn’t sound so much like he was asking you, as he was questioning his decision to call.  You laughed, stepping into your cupboard and pulling the door closed so you’d be less likely to be overheard. The darkness made everything feel more surreal than it already did, “You already bored of the airheads who just do what you say?”  He scoffed, his uncertainty falling away at the first opportunity to be a tosser, “No, actually, I’m looking for an easy shag. Most of my regular options are at this fashion thing this weekend but I knew you wouldn’t be invited.”  “Fashion event? Is that what they told you? They’re probably off trying for a different sugar daddy.”  “Good luck to them. They’ll all be back, but my cock’s hard now.”  You rolled your eyes, “C’mon Benny, you don’t have to lie to me. Just admit you liked what I did to you and want me to do it again.”  “I just liked your cunt.”  “You liked me threatening to peg you.”  He paused for a beat, “I like the idea of fucking your arse more.”  “Okay, this is cute,” you said, growing bored of his asshole attitude, “but I’ve got better things to do. Bye Ben.”  “Wait, don’t hang up.”   You let him hang in silence for a few seconds before saying, “I’m listening,” intrigued by the way the bravado had dropped from his voice.  “Would you like to get dinner with me?”  “Just dinner?”  “Yes. Your call if anything else happens.”  You hummed in thought, weighing up your options. On one hand, Bianca would freak out at even the smallest hint there was more than just a one-night stand between you and Ben. And you didn’t really feel like being paraded in front of cameras or his boorish friends again. But on the other, you’d clearly awoken something in Ben. To the point where he seemed willing to go out with you again, even without the promise of sex. And that was after just one night of being edged....imagine what you could do with more time. “Okay, dinner sounds nice. But not at that ridiculous place you took me last time.”  “You didn’t like it there?”  “It was nice, but the cameras are a bit of a buzzkill.”  “Well I can get us in anywhere else, but the paparazzi will find me wherever we go.”  “So then let me pick where we eat.”  “Do you have a standing reservation at any Michelin star restaurants?”  “No but they’re not the only places to eat in this city.” you only just managed not to call him an idiot.  “The only worthwhile ones. Michelin literally means delicious in French.”  “It’s a tire company Ben, it means jack shit. Just let me pick where we eat.”  “Fine, but only if I’m guaranteed a shag. A good one, that I get to control.”  “What happened to just dinner?”  “I think we both know just dinner wasn’t really going to happen. You liked my cock too much. But if I’m not allowed to choose where we go, you’re not allowed to dom me.”  “But isn’t that the entire reason you called?”  “Not the entire reason. I’ll have you know there were ulterior motives.”

As it happened, it wasn’t so much what you needed, but rather what Ben did. Around two weeks after your night together, you answered a call from a private number, hoping it wasn’t a scam caller. Your surprise at hearing Ben’s voice saying your name was rivalled only by his apparent surprise that he was calling.  “Um, what’s this about?” you felt entirely caught off guard.  “I- well, I guess I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me tonight?” It didn’t sound so much like he was asking you, as he was questioning his decision to call.  You laughed, stepping into your cupboard and pulling the door closed so you’d be less likely to be overheard. The darkness made everything feel more surreal than it already did, “You already bored of the airheads who just do what you say?”  He scoffed, his uncertainty falling away at the first opportunity to be a tosser, “No, actually, I’m looking for an easy shag. Most of my regular options are at this fashion thing this weekend but I knew you wouldn’t be invited.”  “Fashion event? Is that what they told you? They’re probably off trying for a different sugar daddy.”  “Good luck to them. They’ll all be back, but my cock’s hard now.”  You rolled your eyes, “C’mon Benny, you don’t have to lie to me. Just admit you liked what I did to you and want me to do it again.”  “I just liked your cunt.”  “You liked me threatening to peg you.”  He paused for a beat, “I like the idea of fucking your arse more.”  “Okay, this is cute,” you said, growing bored of his asshole attitude, “but I’ve got better things to do. Bye Ben.”  “Wait, don’t hang up.”   You let him hang in silence for a few seconds before saying, “I’m listening,” intrigued by the way the bravado had dropped from his voice.  “Would you like to get dinner with me?”  “Just dinner?”  “Yes. Your call if anything else happens.”  You hummed in thought, weighing up your options. On one hand, Bianca would freak out at even the smallest hint there was more than just a one-night stand between you and Ben. And you didn’t really feel like being paraded in front of cameras or his boorish friends again. But on the other, you’d clearly awoken something in Ben. To the point where he seemed willing to go out with you again, even without the promise of sex. And that was after just one night of being edged....imagine what you could do with more time. “Okay, dinner sounds nice. But not at that ridiculous place you took me last time.”  “You didn’t like it there?”  “It was nice, but the cameras are a bit of a buzzkill.”  “Well I can get us in anywhere else, but the paparazzi will find me wherever we go.”  “So then let me pick where we eat.”  “Do you have a standing reservation at any Michelin star restaurants?”  “No but they’re not the only places to eat in this city.” you only just managed not to call him an idiot.  “The only worthwhile ones. Michelin literally means delicious in French.”  “It’s a tire company Ben, it means jack shit. Just let me pick where we eat.”  “Fine, but only if I’m guaranteed a shag. A good one, that I get to control.”  “What happened to just dinner?”  “I think we both know just dinner wasn’t really going to happen. You liked my cock too much. But if I’m not allowed to choose where we go, you’re not allowed to dom me.”  “But isn’t that the entire reason you called?”  “Not the entire reason. I’ll have you know there were ulterior motives.”

By the time Ben pulled up you were waiting out on the street. You’d decided it was best to get out without Bianca finding out who you were going out with, just to minimize the questions and potential jealousy or excitement. You weren’t sure which direction her emotions would go in. So you’d twisted the truth a little to make it sound like Ben was a random guy you’d matched with on tinder. Bianca had been interested but not as overbearing as she might have been had she known, her questions more general ones about where you were going and how long you’d been messaging the guy. Ben seemed a little surprised when he saw you waitingbut got out and held the limo door open for you.   “Worried if I came up you’d forget yourself and just have to get my cock out?”  You snorted, “No, I just don’t want Bianca to know I’m going out with you again.”  “Bianca....why does that name sound familiar?”  “She’s my roommate. I mentioned her last time. She was with me when we met and you first asked me out.”  “Oh, right, the chick who puked.” Ben laughed, “You worried she’d be jealous? Should have invited her, she sounds easy and you know that’s my type.”  “Ben,” you said firmly, beginning to regret not just hanging up on him, “you know that sort of comment isn’t going to work on me, especially since you’re talking about my friend. Now either stop acting like such a prick, or I will go back upstairs and block your number. There is no one here who is going to be impressed by your bullshit.  “Sorry.” He said softly and surprisingly sincerely, “You look nice, by the way.”  “Sure you don’t want to tell me I should have dressed sluttier?” You waved a hand in front of yourself, indicating the dress you’d chosen. It was neither as short, nor as tight, as the dress you’d worn last time, falling to your knees, not clinging to your skin. The only vaguely revealing part of the dress was a little bit of cleavage on display and even that wasn’t much.   “No, it suits you. And you look lovely in it.”   You were a little suspicious but chose to accept the complement, thanking Ben before saying, “I did do as you asked though. No underwear.”  He tried not to look too pleased, “Can I see?”  “Not yet.”  “What if I promise to go down on you until we get to wherever you’re taking me – which is where by the way?”  You gave him the address and he passed it on to the driver.  “So?” he asked as the car began to move, “You know I know how to eat pussy.”  You rolled your eyes, though you felt that at least his tact included offering to pleasure you rather than just himself, “No. Not yet.”  “I thought you promised to be my whore,” he pouted. Ben still wasn’t used to not getting his way immediately, “My whores do what I say when I say it.”  “Well we both know that doesn’t work with me, does it baby,” you weren’t sure how far Ben would let you push him, but it was fun to test the waters. He made a low rumbly sound, almost a growl, and for a moment you wondered if he’d put his hand on your throat like last time, attempt to intimidate you into complying. Instead, he just nodded and subtly palmed the front of his pants.  “I know I let you maul me in this limo last time,” you felt confident enough that he wouldn’t try anything to continue, “but that was when I was trying to lull you into a false sense of domination. So we’re going to have dinner first and you’re going to be nice to me. And then, once we’re on the way to your place, that’s when I’ll let you take control.”  Ben was quiet for a moment, contemplating what you’d said. You could see his habitual tendencies to objectify every women he talked to were battling with his clear enjoyment of being bossed around, “Okay, deal. But you’ll be fucking in for it later.”

By the time Ben pulled up you were waiting out on the street. You’d decided it was best to get out without Bianca finding out who you were going out with, just to minimize the questions and potential jealousy or excitement. You weren’t sure which direction her emotions would go in. So you’d twisted the truth a little to make it sound like Ben was a random guy you’d matched with on tinder. Bianca had been interested but not as overbearing as she might have been had she known, her questions more general ones about where you were going and how long you’d been messaging the guy. Ben seemed a little surprised when he saw you waitingbut got out and held the limo door open for you.   “Worried if I came up you’d forget yourself and just have to get my cock out?”  You snorted, “No, I just don’t want Bianca to know I’m going out with you again.”  “Bianca....why does that name sound familiar?”  “She’s my roommate. I mentioned her last time. She was with me when we met and you first asked me out.”  “Oh, right, the chick who puked.” Ben laughed, “You worried she’d be jealous? Should have invited her, she sounds easy and you know that’s my type.”  “Ben,” you said firmly, beginning to regret not just hanging up on him, “you know that sort of comment isn’t going to work on me, especially since you’re talking about my friend. Now either stop acting like such a prick, or I will go back upstairs and block your number. There is no one here who is going to be impressed by your bullshit.  “Sorry.” He said softly and surprisingly sincerely, “You look nice, by the way.”  “Sure you don’t want to tell me I should have dressed sluttier?” You waved a hand in front of yourself, indicating the dress you’d chosen. It was neither as short, nor as tight, as the dress you’d worn last time, falling to your knees, not clinging to your skin. The only vaguely revealing part of the dress was a little bit of cleavage on display and even that wasn’t much.   “No, it suits you. And you look lovely in it.”   You were a little suspicious but chose to accept the complement, thanking Ben before saying, “I did do as you asked though. No underwear.”  He tried not to look too pleased, “Can I see?”  “Not yet.”  “What if I promise to go down on you until we get to wherever you’re taking me – which is where by the way?”  You gave him the address and he passed it on to the driver.  “So?” he asked as the car began to move, “You know I know how to eat pussy.”  You rolled your eyes, though you felt that at least his tact included offering to pleasure you rather than just himself, “No. Not yet.”  “I thought you promised to be my whore,” he pouted. Ben still wasn’t used to not getting his way immediately, “My whores do what I say when I say it.”  “Well we both know that doesn’t work with me, does it baby,” you weren’t sure how far Ben would let you push him, but it was fun to test the waters. He made a low rumbly sound, almost a growl, and for a moment you wondered if he’d put his hand on your throat like last time, attempt to intimidate you into complying. Instead, he just nodded and subtly palmed the front of his pants.  “I know I let you maul me in this limo last time,” you felt confident enough that he wouldn’t try anything to continue, “but that was when I was trying to lull you into a false sense of domination. So we’re going to have dinner first and you’re going to be nice to me. And then, once we’re on the way to your place, that’s when I’ll let you take control.”  Ben was quiet for a moment, contemplating what you’d said. You could see his habitual tendencies to objectify every women he talked to were battling with his clear enjoyment of being bossed around, “Okay, deal. But you’ll be fucking in for it later.”

“Who’s house is this?” Ben asked as he offered you a hand out of the limo, the bag of food in his other. You leant back in to grab the bottle of champagne and the glasses, able to feel Ben ogling the hem of your dress as it rose up the back of your legs, “It’s not the house we’re here for, c’mon.” You led him around the corner and up a little alley that ran behind the houses. Ben scrunched up his nose a little, “Bit…dingy isn’t it. Not really the sort of place I want to eat. Quickie during a party is a different story though.” You ignored him, leading him further down the path until it opened out into a little garden which was surrounded by trees, making it feel removed from the outside world. Ben’s dissatisfaction with the alley turned into a bemused approval, “Well this is quite nice. You set it up yourself?” “No, the lights got put up for a Christmas party a few years back and they just left them up.” Ben looked around at the twinkling white solar lights draped throughout the tree branches, “Well it’s not what I was expecting but it’s nice. Cute. Little bit romantic even with the moonlight and all. Well done.” You laughed a little and took the bag from him as you sat down in the middle of a circle of stone pavers, pulling out the few dishes you’d ordered as well as some paper plates and bamboo cutlery. Ben watched you for a while until you told him to sit down. He warily crouched down, brushing leaf litter from a patch before he sat proper. When he caught your raised eyebrow he shrugged, “This suit is worth more than you make in a year. Not even the best cunt in the world could make me ruin it.” “You think I have the best cunt in the world? I’m flattered,” you continued dishing up the food, handing a plate to Ben. “That’s not what I meant. We’ll see after tonight though. If you behave and take me the way I want, you might be in the running.” You did your best to hide a smile, trying not to give away how amusing his comment was. That is, until he took it too far and your smile turned into an eye roll. “Although, to really be sure I’d have to have all the contenders lined up for me to test out one after another. Hmmm, now that’s a thought." You cleared your throat, hoping a gentle reminder would be enough but Ben remained lost in pornographically unrealistic fantasies, the outline of his cock much more visible than it had been a moment before. “Fork Ben?” you asked, tempted to poke him with the implement.” “You’ve gotten eager but alright.” This time you did poke him, just quickly in the shoulder, emphasising correct articulation as you repeated, “Fork.” “Ow, alright.” He took the cutlery from you, “you’re the one who was talking about cunts though. Can’t blame me for mishearing.” Before you could do more than huff in response Ben quickly said, “So, you gonna explain this place to me? Because I can tell you, if we’re caught trespassing here, we’ll definitely end up in the papers and that sort of publicity is much less fun than being seen at a nice restaurant.”

You shook your head as you settled back with your own plate, “No, we have permission to be here. Hows the food by the way?” “Incredible. Can’t believe I haven’t heard of them before.” “Well they don’t have any Michelin stars so maybe that’s why. And don’t you start telling your rich friends about it. I don’t want you ruining my favourite Thai place.” Ben laughed, “So when you say we have permission to be here what do you mean?” “Well, I grew up in this area actually. One street over, but I used to come to this spot a lot. It was designed to be a little community garden, there’s still some planters over along the fence, but mostly it gets used for street parties and things, so usually it was empty. I used to come here when I wanted to be alone. It seemed so secret and secluded and, I don’t know, kind of magical I guess. I mean, now I know it wasn’t quite as secret as I thought. The house that we’re behind can see directly between those two trees,” you pointed at them, “and the old couple who used to live there were friends with my parents, so they’d keep an eye on me. And then when I was a bit older I did some baby sitting for their daughter who eventually moved back into the house to look after her parents and who still lives there now since she inherited it.” “So she can see us? Didn’t know you were into exhibitionism.” “She’s overseas at the moment. But our families have kept in contact and when I said I had a date I wanted to bring here she said it’d be fine.” “Condemning silence about exhibitionism which I’ve definitely filed away. But this place is nice. A little dirty perhaps, but nice.” He had another mouthful and then said, “So, why exactly did you bring me here?” “Isn’t that obvious?” He hummed thoughtfully, “Because you’re a dirty girl who likes doing it outside? Because you didn’t want me to have home ground advantage? Because you don’t like the idea of other women having me and this way you get me all to yourself? Am I getting close?” “I wanted to see you away from the cameras and the fawning models and the arseholes you call friends. I wanted a nice, normal sort of a night where we weren’t going to end up on the front page of every gossip website. And I wanted to see if you were a prick even without an audience.” “Please, you like it” he scoffed teasingly, “And I don’t understand what you’ve got against having your photo taken. I told you last time that being seen is half the fun. I mean, don’t me wrong, this is nice too. Just a bit boring in comparison.” “Mmm, well I’m sure there’ll be plenty of articles speculating on where you were tonight since no one’s got a picture.” Ben perked up a little at the idea, “That’s a good point. Maybe a quiet night every so often isn’t a bad idea.”

For the next little while, as you finished your dinner, Ben oscillated between total sweetheart and utter dickhead, as though he were playing Double Dutch with the line between. You’d hoped that getting him on his own would discourage some of the behaviours he’d displayed last time you’d been with him. If he wasn’t around his idiot friends, he’d have no one to objectify women with. If you weren’t at a restaurant, none of his previous or prospective conquests could remind him of wild nights that he’d then tell you all about. If he couldn’t throw money around in order to buy your company for the night, he’d have to offer stimulating conversation and a genuine reason for your interest instead. But apparently it was not as cause and effect as you’d assumed and Ben still managed to do all the things you’d hoped to avoid. And if anything, being alone with him with no other women to distract made him even more intent on getting you out of your clothes. He suggested first that dinner would taste better eaten off your tits. And then when you tried to come up with a new topic of conversation, he decided to reminisce about a time he’d seduced a TV personality on the set of a cooking show after they’d both been judging it. And every time you took a sip of champagne he’d watch as if telepathically trying to get you drunk. The annoying thing was that in between he was absolutely delightful. You knew there was a decent man buried beneath the layers of wankery his affluent lifestyle had imbued him with. But it was only after he smiled charmingly, leaned in close, and suggested you give him a quick handy if you weren’t going to lift your skirt, that you grew fed up enough to voice the opinion you’d formed about his style of flirting. “Y’know, I thought you’d be better at it.” “Better at what?” he asked suspiciously, “I can assure you I’m incredible at it, you just need a proper demonstration.” “No not that. Flirting. I mean, that is what you’re trying to do isn’t it?” “Obviously,” he said, taken aback. “I guess you’ve never had to really try have you? You were blessed with looks and money. Probably never been turned down in your life, even when you should have been.” “What are you talking about? Don’t tell me you actually are as dumb as the rest of them. And here I was thinking fucking your brains out would be an actual accomplishment.” “No, I just….it’s not good flirting. You realise that right?” “What do you mean not good flirting? It works every time.” “No, I think it’s the money that works every time. Being rich means you can get away with a lot of other bullshit.” When he seemed likely to try and contradict you, you spoke over the top of him, “Listen, I know I can’t speak for every woman you hit on but I can tell you that if an average looking guy with an average amount of money tried to flirt the way you do, he would be shot down. Very, very quickly. For the most part women don’t want to be degraded by random guys they go out with. And they don’t want to hear about all your other conquests when you’re hitting on them.” “Well what would you know,” he said, crossing his arms in sullen defensiveness.

You turned up the condescension, “Aww baby, I get it. You’ve never had to learn how to keep a girl interested without buying her attention." Ben was still pouting but his expression had changed, less cocksure. “It’s okay baby, I’ll keep you in line.” Ben gave half a nod but then paused, “Hey, wait. Stop making me feel subby, I’m meant to be domming tonight.” You laughed at how he sounded almost like he was going to throw a tantrum, “but it’s so easy and fun.” “Well turning you into a fucked out cockslut will be fun too.” There was a short pause and then Ben, much more seriously said, “But you really think my flirting is bad?” “I hate to break it to you but, kinda yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s not all bad. You just need some work. Sometimes you take things a bit far with the teasy banter.” “Like when?” “Hmmm well, just before when you were bragging about how expensive your suit is – which is pretty unsexy by the way – and then I countered with a joke about having the best cunt in the world. Personally I didn’t mind your come back about making me behave or whatever. It was a little crass maybe but not too much more than what I’d said, and since we both know I’m letting you take charge tonight it was a bit hot. But then you took it too far by inventing a scenario in which you would have the chance to compare me to other women. We went from hot to ick in a matter of seconds.” “I’m pretty sure I was implying that you would win.” “Didn’t really sound like it and absolutely not the point. How can I put it? When you talk to me like I’m a normal human being not something put in front of you for your sexual gratification, when we have a proper conversation with a little bit of banter, that’s fun and enjoyable and makes me want to sleep with you. But then you’ll tell me about some other woman you had sex with or you’ll make a derogatory comment about my friend, whom you’ve not even properly met, or you’ll act like you expect me to get my tits out as, I don’t know, decoration while you eat. Basically anything to imply that the only reason you’re even here with me is to have sex.” “But that was the agreement.” “I know. And I am totally fine with having a night out with the expectation it’ll end in sex. But it would be nice, and it would make me want to fuck you more, if you acted like getting laid wasn’t the only thing you care about. Especially because sometimes it’s like you don’t even care who you have sex with as long as you get off, like you have no interest in if I enjoy it, you just want to use me cause I'm there.” “And that’s bad?” “As a flirting technique yes.” “But it’s a complement? And I’ve been with loads of women who say being used is hot.” “Well it’s not the nicest complement ever. And I’m not saying it isn’t hot in some situations. But not everyone likes it and even women who do enjoy it don’t necessarily want it all the time or with someone they’ve never slept with before.” “Lighten up, it’s a bit of fun and I always get them off." “Yeah but you imply that you don’t care if they cum or not which makes you seem like a bit of an asshole. Plus sometimes it can come off a little rapey. Less like a ‘I don’t care if you cum’ and more of a ‘I don’t care if you actually want it’ type thing. I don’t think I need to tell you why that’s unattractive.” “I- no- how,” Ben spluttered before he finally managed, “I would never!” “I’m not saying you have and I’m not saying you would. But sometimes you can come off a bit like that, even if it’s well intentioned. Last time we went out you pinned me down in the back of your car, your hand on my throat, and told me I was going to do everything you wanted. You were practically a stranger, I didn’t know where we were, I had no quick way of leaving partly because we were in your car and partly because of the stupidly high shoes I was wearing. It was kind of threatening. I mean I know that wasn’t your intention but…” you trailed off letting Ben absorb what you’d said.

“I really didn’t realise that’s how I sounded, I’m sorry.” “It’s okay. I was never scared or anything, I didn’t think you would rape me. And I don’t say this to accuse you of something or to be mean. I’m just sick of some of the things you’ve been saying, and I think you deserve to know that what you think is cheeky flirting can come across differently to the women you’re flirting with. "Um, well, thanks I guess. ‘Spose it is better for me to know. Don’t want to get cancelled or whatever, father would kill me. So, do you want me to take you home now?” “What? No, not at all.” “I don’t want you to think you have to sleep with me. If you want to end tonight early, I’m okay with that.” “Oh, baby, no, that’s not what I want. I came here knowing I’d end up in your bed and I think we can still have fun. Besides, I’m still eating.” “Are you sure? Wouldn’t think you’d still be up for it after everything you said.” “To tell the truth I'd really love to dom you now. Punish you for some of the gross bullshit you’ve said, put you in your place again. But we made a deal and I’m very happy to hold to it.” “Really? I think you killed my boner.” You giggled, “Well if you don’t want to, we can just finish dinner and you can drop me home. But I think I can get you back up.” Ben eyed you suspiciously, “How?” “I train you to behave better.” He shifted surreptitiously but didn’t say anything. “We stay here, finish dinner, finish his bottle of champagne, talk for a bit. But every time you say something I would consider bad flirting technique, I will do something to remind you to be better. Pull your hair, maybe edge you, whatever will get the message across.” “I guess that could be fun.” Ben said, trying to sound as if he didn’t mind and failing, “Not really the deal we made though.” You laughed, “Are you telling me that wouldn’t make you want revenge? Being edged and teased when you were meant to be in charge. Wouldn’t that rile you up. Make you want to turn the tables, show me who’s boss. I mean, all your cocky dom behaviour is what got me wanting to tie you up last time, but maybe it doesn’t work like that for you.” “Oh! I hadn’t thought of it like that.” “Because you like when I tell you what to do.” “No. Well maybe a bit. But mostly because I feel bad and thought I should just do what you want so you’d know I wouldn’t, like, hurt you or whatever. I mean, I would have expected another night for you to make it up to me but…” “It is tempting but I’ll admit I might have some ulterior motives for letting you dom me,” you leaned closer to Ben as if you were about to reveal a big secret, “You can learn a lot about how to control a guy by letting him control you. So I’m happy to let you do virtually anything you want to me. With a few exceptions.” “What sort of exceptions?” “I don’t mind anal play,” you dropped into a more serious tone rather than the sultry one you’d slipped into, “but I haven’t done any prep for it so none of it tonight please. Also, I would prefer any marks left are in easy to hide places. Concealer can be bloody expensive and I don’t want to waste any on whatever hickeys and bruises you want to leave. And I’m not super into choking. I don’t mind a hand on my neck but no squeezing if possible.” Ben hummed, “But everything else is on the cards? Mouth and cunt? Spanking? Hair pulling? Tying you up?” “Mmhmm. Whatever you want. As soon as we’re back in that car of yours. Of course, if you’re feeling all subby then that could be what you want.” A low rumble emanated from Ben’s throat as if he were growling and it made you intrigued and a little wet. But you did your best to play it cool, “See, looks like we’re fixing your boner already.”

Fortunately for you, it seemed to take Ben a little while to grasp just what you considered inappropriate flirting. At first you kept your reminders small, giving him firm taps and small pinches, maybe cutting him off to tell him to try again. But, when the lessons didn’t seem to be sticking, you ramped it up a little. By the time you were finished with the food and had moved on to finishing the champagne, he once again tried to describe a night he’d spent with another women, going into unnecessary detail about her figure in less than polite terms. You let him talk as you undid his zip and reached into his pants. Ben hummed as your fingers stroked along his already semi hard length, easily pulled free since he’d not worn underwear either, “Your gonna try and outdo her now are you?” he asked, seemingly having forgotten your threats, “Hope you know how to suck properly cause she was an expert.” You didn’t respond, just kept focused on the handjob as Ben went back to describing what the young woman had done to him. His voice became strained as he got more excited, his cock well and truly hard within your grasp, beads of precum at his tip. “Why’d you stop?” he groaned when you removed your hand before he could finish. “I told you I’d edge you.” “I thought you were bluffing,” he admitted, his face flushed. “Oh I never joke about edging baby. Especially when I’m using it to correct bad behaviour.” “What’s to stop me just finishing myself off?” “Well then you obviously wouldn’t need me at all tonight.” Ben’s hand hovered over his cock for a moment before he moved it aside. “Good boy. Now tell me more about that art show you mentioned. Did you say there was an auction?”

“Um, yeah.” He blinked like he was trying to get his brain to switch thought, “Father thinks I should be seen at fundraisers and charity events more than at clubs and restaurants so I mostly went to keep him off my back. It was mostly pretty boring but I ended up winning this stunning painting, only good piece of the night. Very detailed nude. The tits on her, phwoar. I even met the model who posed for it. Wanted to com-” Ben cut himself off as you began wanking him again. “Sorry.” “Thank you for apologising baby,” you sped your hand up, figuring since he’d caught himself before he said anything really bad you wouldn’t draw this one out. “You can stop, I didn’t say anything.” “Aww baby, I still have to edge you. Otherwise you’ll never learn.” Ben swore when you did release him, his breath heavy as he said, “That wasn’t fair. I wasn’t even going to say anything bad. Besides your tits are better. Not as big but I’ve touched both and yours are better. No, no, please.” “You can come up with a better complement than that.” You sighed, as if edging him was a chore you didn’t enjoy. “Fucking bitch. I know this is just cause I’ve got the best cock you’ve ever had and you wanted an excuse to touch it.” “Amazingly, that’s worse. And it’ll cost you another three edges. One for calling me a bitch. One for being so far up your own ass you think I couldn’t possibly have had better. And one because I know you’re enjoying this and that’s why you keep saying the douchiest shit.” You pulled your hand away, “Thats one.” Ben whined when you started on the next, the break between only short. “Don’t cum,” you reminded him, “it will not stop me, I’ll just overstimulate you instead. Maybe then you’ll really learn your lesson.” “Please, please, close,” Ben managed to whimper, and you pulled your hand away again to reward him. Ben whined and pounded his fist against the ground once, but he managed to keep whatever thoughts he was having to himself. He was clearly learning. “Just one more, okay baby?” Ben nodded, leaning back on his elbows. His cockhead was dark and precum dripped down his shaft. He wouldn’t last if you began another edge too soon so you decided to toy with him in other ways while you waited. Pushing yourself to your knees, you gathered the hem of your dress in your fists and slowly began to raise it. “Wasn’t sure I believed you,” Ben said, not quite managing to sound as cocky as he had before the edges but making a valiant attempt “Good to know you can follow instructions.” He reached a hand out as if to touch your naked pussy but you tutted and grabbed his wrist. “Not yet, baby.” you shuffled closer, keeping the front of your dress lifted as you placed a knee on either side of his legs. “Now edge yourself for me.” Ben groaned with longing as he looked at your cunt, but then he switched to glaring at you as he did as you’d said, slowly working his hand along his shaft, aided by precum and a little of his own spit. You’d been fully prepared to rub yourself along his cock or even against his thigh if he’d made a fuss, but he hadn’t even tried to argue. He was clearly planning your demise, if his expression was anything to go by, but you had expected that and only minded in so much as you were missing out on the subby little face he made when you’d had him last and he’d given in completely. But you let him go, occasionally instructing him, but mostly just watching his reactions, seeing if you could pick when he was close. It didn’t take long for him to get there, whining as he pulled his hand back. “Good boy,” you let your dress drop again, leaning forward to carefully tuck his leaking cock back into his pants, hoping that just your touch wouldn’t set him off.

Settling back onto the rug you continued the conversation as if nothing had happened, sipping at your champagne. Ben drank his a little faster, still staring daggers at you from over the rim of his glass, even when responding to you. But he seemed to have learnt his lesson. Once or twice he started to say something but cut himself off and changed tact, and you ended up having a genuinely pleasant chat. He was still flirty, still explicit about how much he wanted to fuck you, just less obnoxious about it. You didn’t have to hear about any more of his previous sexual escapades at any rate, and he was attentive enough to make you feel like sex was only most of what he cared about. Finally, you decided to put him out of his misery and see what he had in store for you.  “Bottles empty."  “I’ve got more back at the hotel” Ben said, catching on instantly – the bottle had been empty for a little while.   “Perfect,” you smiled and let him help you to your feet, collecting the rubbish in the bag from the Thai place and dropping it into a bin out on the street as he hurried you back to the car. The driver stubbed out a cigarette on the road when he saw you approaching and was holding the door open by the time you reached him. 

You were barely inside when Ben put his hand on your knees, pushing your legs open. “Already?” you asked, breath hitching as he exposed you. “Are you kidding? After what you did tonight, you think I’d wait?” he leaned in closer, one hand sliding up your thigh as the other remained firm on your knee so you couldn’t close your legs again, “After last time you really think I wouldn’t be itching to get my hands on you? You got something no one else has had and I’m so fucking annoyed that I liked it. I went home so pissed off after we docked because I know that you could have me on my knees, at your beck and call, in an instant. And I can’t have you out there bragging about it, telling anyone else, or I’m ruined. Especially because I also love domming sluts. Now, we did your quiet little dinner thing, I listened to you criticise me and imply I don’t satisfy my women. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, I let you have some fun at my expense. You were obviously so desperate to get my cock out that you had to make up an excuse to touch me,” his fingers stroked against your cunt and he smirked as if your wetness was proving him right, “but that’s okay. I like my whores desperate.” You wanted to interrupt him, to tell him that he was wrong, or better yet to steal control from him again, but as soon as you opened your mouth his palm was covering it. “Shhh no, it’s my turn to talk. I think it’s time for you to have a lesson, a hard lesson, in what it means to be my whore. That was our deal anyway. So you’re going to be quiet and do what I want. Nod if you consent.” You decided you must have got through to him at least a little bit since he was now trying to make consent clear, it was a far cry from when he’d last had you pinned down in his limo anyway, and you had agreed to it beforehand. So you nodded. “You’re going to be an eager and willing slut for me aren’t you?” You nodded but it wasn’t enough for Ben who moved his hand away and ordered “repeat what you are.” “You’re eager and willing slut. Sir.” “That’s what I like to hear. And you will enjoy everything I do to you. That’s not a threat, that’s a promise. Now show me your cunt again.” He sat back and you readjusted yourself in the seat, hitching your dress up as you spread your legs wider. Ben hummed in appreciation, “Touch yourself for me.” You swallowed thickly and did as he asked, stroking your fingers over your lips, already a little wet from teasing him. But Ben expected more, “Do it properly. You know how big I am, get yourself ready so I can fit.”

It made you want to roll your eyes but you resisted the urge, ready to play along like you’d promised. Instead, you kept eye contact with him as you stuck your fingers in your mouth, slicking them up with saliva before moving them back down to your cunt. On another day you might have been able to use the position to your advantage, make him so eager for you with your display that you could take charge before he realised what was happening. You were certain that if you’d made Ben watch you fingering yourself last time he would have turned submissive before you even made it onto the yacht. But he seemed determined to give you a taste of your own medicine today. He made a pleased sound and just watched. There was definitely a tension to him – something in the way he sat back from you and how his hand rested on the edge of the seat as if he were about to dig his fingers into the soft leather to keep from giving in – but he kept up the appearance of nonchalance. Which made you less sure of your assessment, and more worried about what he had in store for you. By the time you were adding a third finger, you felt very flustered and warm. Ben hadn’t looked away once. He’d relaxed more, content with watching despite how he was straining against the fabric of his pants. He’d made a couple of comments to either instruct you more specifically, or to gloat about how following orders suited you. “You like to play at taking charge, but we both know you want a man like me to control you.” You shook your head but your defiance was undercut by a whine. Ben just laughed, “you’re cunt agrees with me. I can see how wet you are. I can hear it. Don’t think you’re wet enough to handle my cock yet though. Guess I should give you a hand.” He’d been slowly rolling up his sleeve as he spoke but once it was up he quickly moved to take over. His body boxed you in against the seat and he pulled your fingers free, replacing them with his own. You half expected him to reach for your throat like last time but he didn’t. He did however shove three large fingers into your cunt, making you whine a little at the extra stretch of them. “Knew you needed help,” he smirked as he began fingering you relentlessly, his movements shallow and fast but reaching deeper. After a few rapid strokes he added in a little curl of his fingers against your front wall and you moaned suddenly. The look Ben gave you was his most insufferable yet, entirely too pleased with himself, but there wasn’t much you could do since he was making you feel so good.

Entirely too quickly he stopped and you looked around confused, wondering if you’d arrived already.  Ben didn’t answer, more concerned with getting his pants undone and pushing them down.   You were about to suggest that maybe he was the desperate one when he sat down and beckoned you over.   “You wanted it so bad, whore, here you go.” When you didn’t move straight away he clicked his fingers, “I know it's a monster but your cunt can take it. C’mon.”  You moved closer and Ben grabbed your hips, manhandling you onto his lap, groaning as you sank down he shaft.  Your back was to Ben, so you braced your hands on his knees, assuming you were meant to ride him. But he stopped you, wrapping an arm around you to keep you still, “no don’t move. You can warm me for a bit while I explain the trouble you’re in.”  You squirmed, not out of a strong desire to exhaust yourself riding him, more to show he wouldn’t have it too easy, even if you had agreed to submit. Ben’s grip remained tight but his other hand did slip down to your pussy, his fingers finding your clit with surprising ease and rubbing it lightly. Not firm enough to get you very far but enough to make you want more.   “You’re going to get a taste of your own medicine. I’m going to make you wait, and I’m going to make you beg, and I’m going to have you as much as I can tonight. And maybe again in the morning if you’re lucky.”  “How do you know I’ll beg?”  “Well if you don’t that’ll be your problem. Because you won’t be cumming until you do. But, see, I’ll get off as much as I want. Your little edging game means that even just being in you has me close already. It gave me some ideas too.” That was when he started rubbing your clit properly, his fingertips pressing against it, pulling you closer to the edge.   You knew it wouldn’t last, that he’d stop before you got anywhere near orgasm, but that didn’t change how disappointing it was when he did. Especially because you involuntarily clenched around his cock at the sudden lack of stimulation, and heard Ben groan in your ear.  “God you feel good when I deny you,” he said as he started again.   You quickly lost track of how many edges you had and how long you’d been in the car.   Ben hadn’t had the satisfaction of hearing you beg, but he’d made you whine and whimper. And he’d had more actual satisfaction than you, managing an orgasm just from the wet warmth of you tightening around him a few times. He’d gone rigid for a moment as he reached his release but then he’d recovered himself and gone right back to edging you. You’d tried to clench around him more intentionally, hoping to overstimulate him a little, but if he felt much he didn’t let on. Which meant that by the time he pushed you from his lap you could feel a combination of his cum and your slick on your thighs and dripping from your cunt.   The car pulled up as Ben said, “Clean yourself up,” tossing you a few tissues from a pocket inside his suit jacket, “Can’t have you dripping through the foyer.”  That felt more humiliating than anything else he’d done or said, especially because of how horny and wet you were, but Ben didn’t seem to notice as he tucked himself away again and smoothed out his suit.   Once you’d straightened yourself up as much as you could in the confines of the limo, Ben helped you out, once again acting the gentleman as he offered you his arm.

You tried to act as normal as possible as you walked through the foyer of what was obviously a five star hotel, an ambitious goal considering what had happened on the drive there and how fancy the place seemed.  "Do you live here?” you asked, hoping that having a conversation to focus on would help with the image you were attempting to cultivate.   Ben shook his head as you approached the lifts, “No, I have a house. Father bought it for me when I turned 18. He thought it would do me good to live on my own or something. But I never take the women I fuck there.”  You blinked, surprised, “why not?”  “If I was dating them it would be different, and in fact one of my exes did move in there with me for a while. But one night stands don’t get to see where I live. I permanently keep the penthouse suite here for getting my dick wet. That’s how you know you’re one of my whores.” He didn't give you a chance to respond, pulling you into a demanding kiss, his hands roaming over your arse until the elevator dinged at his floor.  

It was a short walk to his door and Ben already had the keycard out by the time you reached it, clearly eager for more. He took just enough time to place a do not disturb hanger on the door handle before he pushed you to your knees right there in the entry way. When you looked up he was working on unbuckling his pants again, his cock already hard as he pulled it out, his quick refractory time a result of the edges, or so you assumed.   “I’m sure you’ve got some little plan to get on top going on in your head right now, Y/N,” he said as he worked on his pants, “But I assure you it won’t be happening tonight, so I think a little test is in order. You need to prove you can submit before you go any further.”  You nodded meekly, already horny and resigned to your fate.   “Well go on, suck.”  You shuffled forward, feeling Ben’s large fingers twisting softly in your hair to guide you. Bracing yourself for his fist to tighten or for him to force you down his shaft, you pressed your lips to his tip. But he defied your expectations, his hands leaving you altogether once he had you in place. It was strange but you didn’t complain, focusing instead on his cock.  Ben sighed in pleasure as you brought a spit wet palm up to stroke his shaft, your mouth busy becoming acquainted with his tip, but otherwise he made little acknowledgement of your actions. Instead he preoccupied himself getting undressed.   You felt more than saw him shimmy out of his jacket, flinging it unceremoniously to the floor behind him. Next came the sound of his wristwatch being placed, much more carefully, on the hall stand beside you. A moment later his cufflinks joined it. When he took off his dress shirt you had to pause your bobbing, letting him fall from your lips as you pulled back to watch. He did have a very nice chest, you remembered that from last time, and you were sure he’d take your looking as a complement.   Ben flashed you a pleased look as he noticed you, allowing you to watch as he slipped the shirt from his arms and dropped it to the floor, but once it was off he considered the show over. His fist was once again in your hair, this time much more forcefully tugging you back towards his cock.   “I didn’t tell you to stop.” he drawled as you got your lips around his tip and felt his palm pushing you further down his length.   You managed okay to start but without being able to control your pace as much you couldn’t keep from gagging as you took Ben deeper.   Ben hummed, clearly satisfied with the sound, his hand loosening a little as a reward.   You took the hint and found a rhythm that pleased him, working yourself up and down his shaft, your hand stroking whatever wasn’t in your mouth. You gagged a few more times as you pushed yourself further, but Ben definitely enjoyed it when you did.  All of a sudden he stopped you, both hands in your hair to keep you from moving.   “I think you’re ready now, hands off.”  You had no idea what he thought you were ready for but you did as he said, partly because you wanted to prove him wrong about your ability to follow orders, but mostly because you were very turned on and wanted to hurry up and get to the bit where he’d fuck you for real. The thought was distracting enough that you were caught off guard as he pressed his hips forward, pushing more of his cock than you were ready for towards your throat. You gagged again and Ben groaned. 

“Good girl, just take it.” He said grunted as he thrust into your mouth again, and then again, not worrying about going slow.  Your hair was tangled tight in his fingers, keeping you from moving too far from where he wanted you. Instinct made you try to lean back a little but aside from Ben’s grip, you were too close to the door to get very far. You heard Ben’s knuckles bump against it, the solid wood an intimidating barrier behind you that made it clear you had little choice but to do as Ben wanted. You assumed that if you’d tapped out, Ben would have let you, but you didn’t want to. Ben had been right when he’d said it was hot to be used. You were already very wet but your pussy ached as he fucked your mouth, denying you what you really wanted so he could take what would satisfy him. Each shift of his hips made indecent wet sounds as saliva built up and dripped onto your chin and he pulled more gags from your throat. Tears pooled in your eyes but Ben didn’t seem to care. He kept up fucking you for longer than you might have expected if you’d been able to think clearly enough to guess. Especially with how turned on he must have been, just based on the groans and moans he made as he used you. But finally Ben seemed to reach a limit of just how much pleasure he could withstand. His hips sped up, and he grunted each word on a new thrust as he said, “Gonna fucking cum. You better fucking swallow.”  You blinked more tears from your eyes which Ben took as compliance with his wants as he got himself off, rutting against your tongue until he stopped, keeping you pinned between his hips and the door as he filled your mouth with cum. Ben pulled out quickly which you were thankful for. You’d been able to steal breaths throughout the blowjob but had unwittingly held your breath as he finished, and were eager to be free. He took half a step back, hands rising to his hips as he stared you down, daring you to recoil at the taste of his cum or worse still to spit it out. Between heavy breaths through your nose your swallowed, fighting the urge to wipe your eyes or face.  “Good girl,” Ben cooed as if he’d expected a brattier display, “I knew that fem dom shit was just a cry for attention. This was what you really wanted all along.”  You shook your head so that you could at least say you tried to disagree, but Ben was more concerned with tucking his cock away again and missed the display of defiance altogether. Once he was sorted he helped you up, taking a moment to examine your face before dragging his thumbs under your eyes to clear up the mascara that had transferred there.  “Pointless,” he muttered softly when he realised he was mostly just spreading the mascara around, “I’m sure it wont be the last you cry tonight. Unless of course you want to admit you’re nothing more than a desperate whore and beg for my cock.”  “I’m not begging,” you frowned, sure he’d be quicker to give in once he got close to your pussy.   Ben just smiled, “You will. For now I want you on the bed.”  You made to move down the hall but he stopped you before you made it more than a step.   “Wait. There’s a rule I have. Whores aren’t allowed to wear clothes past this point. I might make an exception for nice lingerie but not tonight. Not for you.” He didn’t even give you the satisfaction of stripping for him, pulling the zip of your dress down and tugging on your dress until it slipped down to join the mess of discarded menswear on the floor, quickly followed by your bra. “Mmmm,” he hummed as his eyes raked over your naked body, “Perfect. Bed, now.” A spank landed on your arse cheek and you hurried ahead of him, able to feel Ben’s eyes on your arse for the whole length of the corridor.  

The upside of being on the bed before Ben had even entered the room was that you had ample time to admire how good he looked without a shirt. You openly ogled him as he moved to the cupboard, taking a moment to dig something out, though his delicious back was blocking your view of what it was. Although your preoccupation with his naked chest also meant you weren’t as observant as you might otherwise have been. You were too distracted to notice him tuck something into his pocket, and you entirely missed it when he began speaking, only realising when he seemed to address you.  “-only fair I get to do the same to you, right?”  You blinked, knowing you’d missed something but not wanting to let on because you knew he’d be a dick about it.   As it was he raised his eyebrows and prompted you to respond, “Well? It’s a simple question. You’re not normally this ditzy, did sucking me off make you too horny to think?”  You shook your head, “No Sir, I thought it was rhetorical.”   For a moment you weren’t sure your gambit had worked but then Ben laughed, “Almost a shame you’re not so cockdumb yet. But maybe you’re right,” Ben strode around to the top right corner of the bed, squatting slightly to pull something from under the mattress, “My expectation was that you’d agree.” He grabbed your wrist and tugged it back, fitting a black loop around it.   As he tightened the restraint you realised what he’d been talking about. That this was pay back for when you’d tied him to the yacht’s bed. He’d been eager for it then, practically walked you through tying sailor worthy knots with the rope, but you couldn’t blame him for wanting to see you bound to his bed in the same way. So you just wriggled yourself into a little more comfort as he rounded the bed and restrained your other wrist too.   “Now what are you going to do to me?” you pouted at him coyly, feeling a little like you were poking a bear.   “I already told you.” he said, kneeling on the end of the bed, “I’m going to make you beg.”  That was when he revealed what he’d taken from his cupboard and tucked into his pocket. The vibrator wasn’t huge but it was powerful, making you jolt as he pressed it to your clit.  You squirmed but the wrist cuffs kept you from being able to move too far from its buzzing and you couldn’t help but moan as your long denied orgasm built.   Ben quickly stopped the toy, replacing it with his fingers, dragging them through the wetness between your lips, “Go on whore, tell me you want my cock in this needy cunt.”  You shook your head, biting your lip to keep from moaning again as his fingers entered you easily. He thrust them in and out of you a few times before bringing the vibrator back to your clit. Whenever Ben sensed you were getting close he’d stop touching you entirely. Sometimes even before you were close, preferring to hedge his bets and stop early rather than risk giving you the orgasm. It would undercut his dominance if you came earlier than he wanted, even if he ruined it. So he was careful with how he edged you. He alternated between his fingers and the vibe. When he felt you were enjoying yourself too much he’d intentionally ignore your clit. You’d be left with three of his fingers pumping into you, hearing Ben make pleased little hums when he found spots within you that made you whine or gasp. When that didn’t seem to be enough to make you give in he upped the ante, pressing the tip of the vibrator into you. It didn’t stretch you as much as his fingers (or his cock) did, but the patterns of vibrations when he turned it on made up for what it lacked in size.

While you’d already decided you’d let Ben have it his way, part of you still wanted him to have to work for it. Unfortunately, any ideas you had about withstanding his onslaught went out the door very quickly. You were way too worked up to hold out and the combination of his fingers and the toy he was fucking into your cunt had you begging in only a few short moments. At your first, “please Sir,” Ben laughed. “Embarrassing how easy that was,” he smirked, “I expected more but I guess you really are just one of my whores.” You whined as he removed the vibrator and his fingers, worried the edging would continue all night. “S’pose it’s about time I fuck you properly. Lord knows im stiff for it.” You watched as he undid his zip and finally removed his pants, his cock semi hard again, and you couldn’t keep yourself from begging again. “Only one question left. How should I do it? Flip you over and take you from behind?” He wrapped his fist around his cock and you whimpered as he stroked himself harder, “Make you ride me? I know how much you like being on top. Think I like the idea of seeing you under me too much for that. This time anyway. No, I know what I want.” His breath came a little harder as he moved onto the bed, cock still in hand as he pushed your legs open again. “I want you to watch me while I fuck you. I want you right where you are, tied up, incapable of dominating me. You’ll soon see how much you like it.” As he spoke he pressed against your hole, teasing you one final time before he finally gave you what you wanted. His cock slipped in easily, and Ben’s groan was nearly as loud as yours. At another time, with free hands and a clearer mind, you might have enjoyed that more, knowing Ben was as desperate as you were. But after so much edging and teasing, you could only focus on how good and full you felt. Ben’s eagerness extended beyond just sounds of delight too. Any plans he might have had to draw it out, go slow and deep to torment you more, went out the window as soon as he felt you clench around his shaft. His hips jolted forward, cock sinking into your audibly wet cunt, and he couldn’t help but do it again and again, falling into a rapid rhythm. Barely half his length made it in you, his thrusts too rapid to allow him to get much deeper, but it didn’t matter. The feeling of him dragging against your walls would have been enough, but Ben also added a thumb to your clit. He rubbed you messily, more concerned with how it felt to be inside you, but you didn’t need much stimulation to get close again. “Cum,” he said simply when you moaned about how good he felt. He fucked you through the first orgasm, praising you for being such a good whore, not even relenting when you were panting, no longer arching under him. “You’re going to cum again, sweetheart” he ordered, pounding into you with a particularly hard thrust that made your head spin. A slight breathlessness was the only sign he was at all worked up, which just added to his control, and all you could do was nod in agreement, sure you would cum as many times as he wanted no matter how hard it became. Ben chuckled, clearly pleased with how fucked out and compliant you were, but focused his energy into fucking you rather than any banter. You squirmed a little more, a touch sensitive after your first orgasm, but not uncomfortably so, and your second came up quickly too, your body eager for release after being denied it for so long. Ben didn’t last much longer either, the feeling of your cunt tightening round his cock again enough to undo him. He groaned more and more as he got closer, finally pressing himself as deep as you could take him as he hit his release with a satisfied moan.

Ben collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you comfortingly into the mattress as his lips found your neck. He was breathing harder now, the puffs of warmth tickling your skin.   You groaned as you tried to shift under him, your thighs aching from being spread open, but you found you couldn’t close them since Ben was still filling you.   “Uh uh uh,” he tutted into your skin, “Didn’t say you could shut your legs.” He pushed himself back up, leaning back to look at himself disappearing into you, “You look good like this.”  You shivered as he ran a finger around where you were stretched around his length, your wrists jolting in the bonds.   Ben remained thoughtfully silent for a moment, absentmindedly touching your pussy and your thighs, as he took in your dishevelled and restrained appearance.   “I think I want to see you cum again.”   “Again?” you whimpered, partly from his touch and partly from his tone.  He answered by reaching for the vibrator again, pressing it to your clit and holding it there until he’d forced a third orgasm from you, just because he could.  It was good but a lot, your body more sensitive now, and unable to move as freely as you’d have liked. There was no escaping the stimulation, no shifting your hips to change the angle of the vibrations or to spread them over more of your cunt than just your clit. You had to take it the way Ben wanted you to, the vibrators setting higher than you would have chosen, pressed firmly in place until your toes curled and your thighs shook.   Ben pulled out as you neared the climax, so that when you came he could watch his own release dribble onto the sheets, grinning cockily at the sight.  When he was finally satisfied, he turned the toy off and let you collapse, chuckling as he leaned over to free you from the restraints. Gently he rubbed your wrists, making sure you were okay as you gathered your senses.   “What was it you said about me not caring if my whores get off?” he asked, flopping on top of you again.  You wanted to come back with something clever but your brain was still too hazy to manage anything more than, “Oh shut up.”  “You beg real fucking pretty by the way. It’s obvious I’m the best you’ve had.”   You rolled your eyes at his smirking, the insufferable way he was speaking reigniting your desire to put him in his place, “Keep being such an ass and I’ll have to pick out a toy to use on you.” You squeaked as Ben cut you off, grabbing your cheeks so your lips were pushed into a pout.  “No. Eager and willing sluts don’t threaten their Sir’s. While you’re here, you’re mine,” his hand covered your cunt possessively, “I’m going to want you again tonight and I expect you to keep being the good girl I know you secretly love being.”  You swallowed thickly, nodding in his grasp.  Ben let you go and, as if to soften his words or placate you, added, “But maybe tomorrow I’ll let you tell me some of your silly ideas, see if you can convince me they’re more fun than fucking my new toy brainless.” 

[workingclasshistory]

On this day 14 July 1789, during the French revolution, the people of Paris stormed the Bastille, a notorious prison, and a symbol of power and the old order. As a huge crowd attempted to gain access to the prison, the garrison station within started to fire cannons onto people in the streets, killing and wounding many. This caused outrage. Russian revolutionary, Peter Kropotkin, who wrote a groundbreaking grassroots history of the revolution, recounted what happened next: "As to the people, as soon as the news of the firing spread through the town, they acted without any one’s orders, guided by their revolutionary instinct. They dragged the cannon which they had taken from the Hôtel des Invalides to the Hôtel de Ville... "The firing by this time had been going on for more than three hours. The people, not in the least dismayed by the great number killed and wounded, were maintaining the siege by resorting to various expedients. One of these was the bringing up of two cartloads of straw, to which they set fire, using the smoke as a screen to facilitate their attack on the two entrances, the greater and lesser drawbridges. The buildings of the Government Court were already in flames. "The cannon arrived just at the moment they were wanted. They were drawn into the Government Court and planted in front of the drawbridges and gates at a distance of only 90 feet. It is easy to imagine the effect that these cannon in the hands of the people must have produced on the besieged. It was evident that the drawbridges must soon go down, and that the gates would be burst open. The mob became still more threatening and was continually increasing in numbers. "The moment soon came when the defenders realised that to resist any longer was to doom themselves to certain destruction." You can get a new edition of Kropotkin's history here: https://shop.workingclasshistory.com/products/the-great-french-revolution-1789-1793-peter-kropotkin Pic: Painting of the events by Jean-Pierre Houël https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=661706862669199&set=a.602588028581083&type=3

[livewireprojects]

Old Sonic sketches(Plus extras)

Found some old sketches I had on DA & wanted to show them. Some sketches have the date I scanned them in the corner of the image because the date changes if I edit them & I had to edit them cause they're all bmp files along with needing editing to be darkened. It's there to show how old they are & cause I found it interesting, if the image doesn't have the date I'll list mention a date that's mentioned in the DA post or something related. Not all the images are in order of date.

The image on the left was posted November 8, 2012 while the one on the right is from August 27, 2013

These were some wedding sketches I drew with the one on the right being a pic I made for a teacher I had in high school.(Graduated 2014) The pic on the left was a Sonadow & Silvaze wedding with Tails catching Sonic's bouquet while Cosmo(who was revived at some point) giggles.(tfw When you might end up marrying next thanks to a moment at your older brother's wedding & your girlfriend knows too)

Shadow & Sonic's rings(on the wrist) was inspired by a comic by Segamew on DA were Shadow used one of his inhibitor rings to propose to Sonic.(Fun fact at the time I didn't know what his rings did past the fact Shadow wore them, I only learned about the reason recently) I use a different idea for mobian wedding items now.

I find it semi funny(semi cause it looks cringy) that when I posted this to DA I was like "I'm using Shadonic instead of Sonadow so fuck you" to be honest this came from past Naruto shipping were ship names go by who is tops. I've gotten over it by now but if I'm not using ship names I still put the top first.

This was drawn in 2015

The top images are Monoko from Yume Nikki & Sonic as nightmarens from the NiGHTS series. I might redraw/redesign these one day but dunno. The little mini doodles between them are an old design for my self-insert Sonicsona & Monoko next to me. I don't know the context for them.

At the bottom is Reala(nightmaren this time instead of my OC Reala the hedgehog), Jackle & my nightmaren OC Halldis dressed up. Next to them is Pinkie Pie semi Rayman style.(By that I mean floaty limbs)

The one on the left is cropped cause you don't really need to see my old Raymesis/Dark Rayman(Who is turned over a new leaf, also thought they were the same person back then) x Rayman stuff. Funny enough two images were edited into this from the cropped side cause they're semi related.

Left image:(Added in mini pics at the bottom of list)

Left to right, top of page to bottom of page

Rayman Sonic that I didn't put much effort in past hair & outfit

Rayman as a seedrian, this was made before learning that male seedrian look very different from the girls. He's a plum plant from the Rayman series.

Normal Rayman waving

Rayman!Sonic sitting down

An attempt to draw mini Rayman & Rayman!Sonic flying using their hair. Rayman obviously with helicoptor bangs, Sonic flapping like he's a bat/bird.

Right image:

Left to right, top page then middle page then bottom page

Older Rayman with kids

Rayman!Shadow & Rayman!Sonic, these are their old designs with Shadow's being inspired by Kanda from D.Grayman's hair & mitarashiarts's past design for gijinka Shadow. I guess I gave him Raymesis style eyes given how I drew them.

Rayman!Sonic in a Rayman version of Sonic after being blinded by Eggman(context my version of Sonic at some point in the future was blinded by Eggman)

Rayman!Sonic wandering around & hiding that he's Sonic & injured

A scene of old design Shadow finding Sonic after he was heavily injured & almost drowned in Rayman style

Random doodle of Sonic in a random art style

An old prototype design idea for revived Cosmo, two versions of her as a plant based deer. I ended up going with a plant based chipmunk in the end.(With help from a friend when I mentioned some suggestions)

I don't fully remember the context behind the pic on the left I just know it was a scrapped idea. I think the idea was Silver visiting the past as a kid & helping Sonic after the reboot or after the reboot in Sonic 06 he was born in the past & made friends with Sonic.(The middle pic is meant to be them before the re-boot) I'm guessing this was before the paper towel comic I made.

The right image is meant to be Sonic walking with his siblings as they unknowingly pass by the spirit of Tikal with a bunch of Chao(plus Sonadow chao) & Chip. Sonic notices him & Chip waves to his future friend. From what I understand the idea is Chip some how got a chance to see Sonic in the past after the events of Sonic Unleashed.(Likely way on DA I named this "Meeting again before I knew you") No idea how Sonic can see them without his glasses on since Underground Sonic is blind without them. According to DA this image didn't need much fixing up.

Here's a pic I drew on one of my folders for school(2011 was my first year of high school)

I had to grayscale this because the folder is yellow & it'd look stupid

Left to right

-Sonic as a young child with his adopted dad after they decided to go frog hunting for the first time

-The idea behind this was Sonic returning to where he grew up before going to live with Uncle Chuck after helping his siblings & mom rebuild the kingdom after defeating Robotnik. I think the idea was that Sonic still met/took in Tails at some point cause there was an idea of Tails bringing Amy, Shadow & the others to meet his older brother.

Version 1 was meant to be Sonic having become more like he use to be before the trauma of losing his adopted parents & losing his confidence thanks to bullying(for being different) & the stress of the war. He's happily being Sonic in the woods he was raised in. Version 2 is just Sonic as I depicted him at the end of Sonic Underground were he has gained confidence but is still slightly timid & very sweet.(No idea why it says "Southern bell-ish" I'm guessing this was the only description I could think of)

-Sonic dressed in his adopted mom's outfit

-Sonic before losing his adopted parents & being taken in by his uncle. Sonic was a happy & energetic, he loves exploring the woods & learning to play music. He's a kid that hasn't fully learned that the world is full of things to fear despite knowing the dangers of going too close to areas everyone knows is Robotnik's territory.(I guess think of Robin from the game The Path were she didn't realize it's dangerous to fall out of a shopping cart nor jump on a werewolf)

The poor kid is in for many horrors when he made the poor choice of hunting for frogs near one of Robotnik's bases.

Posted to DA May 28, 2014

Classic Rayman as a puffball, Sonic as a puffball & anime Kirby as whatever Rayman is

Posted to DA June 24, 2019

Why I can't draw Sonic's eyes like they're meant to look

Adding another pic last minute, this is an old sketch dump of Sonic & his siblings from my old Sonic stuff that went on to lead to my Lost Prince AU

Left to right

Top:

The sight Uncle Chuck saw when he got home. Thanks to having enough of the bullying while struggling to deal with losing his adopted parents Sonic chopped his hair/quills off to look more normal.

Sonia fixing Sonic's hair while Manic finds it funny she used a bowl to cut Sonic's hair

Sonic meeting his siblings for the first time as they hide somewhere after managing to run into each other. Moments later they're told what they're meant to be doing.

Middle:

Sonic amazed, I think this was inspired by Ojamajo Doremi/Magical Doremi some how

Old design modern Sonic holding plushies I use to give him when he was a kid, lion & lamb plushies, I don't remember the context I think this was when he was living with his dad

Sonic laying on the ground with the plush dolls

Another old design modern Sonic

Bottom:

The triplets managing to sleep in a proper bed after some traveling

[billthedrake]

REBOUND

I have the timing down pretty well. I mean, sometimes I come in a minute flat, sometimes I enjoy five minutes of glorious head before cumming. But the rest is predictable, even the traffic. I'll leave my house at 7:25. His place is a little detour on my commute but mostly was on the way to my office. So, twenty minutes drive to his in-town bungalow home, and another twenty to the parking garage I use downtown. I grab some coffee and am at my desk by 8:30.

It's been a solid year now. A year since I broke up with David. Well, since David broke up with me. We told ourselves it was an amicable split but nine years together was a lot. David was my first love, my first serious relationship. We'd planned a future together, bought a house together, and it turns out splitting was bound to be messy. We were cordial, but it turns out we weren't in the place to be friends. I moved out, to a cheaper inner suburb, and licked my wounds for a while.

I wasn't ready to date. Hell, I probably wasn't ready to hook up even, but a man's needs have a way of asserting themselves. Big time. So I set up a profile on the app. I defensively batted off a couple of guys before I saw his profile. His main pic was a photo of his open mouth, tongue slightly out. Before that kind of sluttiness would have been a turn off, but at that moment, I was boned in my sweats and intrigued. His profile description had me even more interested:

"Magic mouth and throat at your service. Talented cocksucker wants a nice piece of meat to suck on. No names, no chit chat, you just walk in, unzip, and get taken care of by a pro. I'm picky about the dicks I suck. Big ones, or hot masculine guys get priority, that's just how it is. Cops and military are especially welcome. I'm worth it, fellas, promise."

The guy's tone was off-putting, I had to admit. But I also had to admit I was boning up thinking of getting my dick sucked. David was never great at oral. I mean, he'd go down on me, but he preferred fucking or just mutual JO. I'd probably never date a dude as buff and perfectly muscled as him, but looking back, maybe our sexual chemistry wasn't the best. I'd been too into looks and perfection to realize it.

I sent Sucker Guy a dick pic. When he said he was looking for big cocks, I wasn't sure how big. But the eagerness in his reply told me I was hung enough. I mean, I'm not a cop or anything, so I just have my dick as my calling card.

"That's a nice fat one, man. Bring it over and let me drain those big heavy balls of yours."

This was no-nonsense, all right. I was more the chat and get to know a guy before stripping down kind of man. But Sucker Guy clearly wasn't. And at that point, my pent up sexual need was winning out. It had been two months since I'd had sex, and I was way overdue.

"Where are you?" I asked.

He gave me a neighborhood. Not close, but not far either.

"I can be there in about 20 or 30 minutes," I replied.

He typed back a full address. "Front door will be unlocked. Come on in."

OK, I felt a naughty thrill driving over. This was the opposite of the relationship sex I'd had with David. I started to worry this anonymous guy wouldn't live up to my expectations. Then I wondered why I even had expectations. So I tampered them. I'd get off, somehow, even if I had to masturbate to completion, but I'd get off. That was enough.

My boner had subsided some by the time I parked and walked up to his front door. It felt odd just letting myself in, but instructions were instructions. The inside was dim, curtains drawn and only a lamp on for light.

Right square in the middle of the living room was a man, fully clothed and waiting there on his knees. Only then I realized I'd never seen his full face, since his pics were cropped from the below the eyes, down. He was older, older than me at least. Maybe late 40s. Handsome in a normal way. I was out of his league as far as the gay pecking order went. I didn't give a fuck about the pecking order.

Just seeing him in that kneeling position and ready to take care of me got me hard. I nodded and said a brief "hey." I wasn't sure if that was against his no-talk preference, but I couldn't help it. If a dude's gonna suck me, I'm gonna acknowledge him.

I did just like his profile said. I pulled down my sweat pants. My boner had returned now, in full force and I enjoyed watching his eyes widen in excitement as he got a good look. I stepped up, giving him a better look. His fingers grazed my bone, and I thought he was going to take his time teasing me as foreplay. Instead, he circled his fingers around the base of the stalk and angled my cock toward his lips. And swallowed.

"Fuck!" I gasped. I watched as he swallowed me. Not all in one go, but close enough. This man knew what he was doing, all right. Some of it was showing off for my visual stimulation, some of it was focusing instead on the physical stimulation of my cock. For about a minute he worked me in a few ways, and I realized he was searching for what was going to turn me on more.

Turns out, I was way into the visual part. Seeing him deep throat me, seeing him hold me all the way inside his throat, seeing him slut out. So he did more of that.

"Suck my fucking cock," I hissed. I'm not a master at sex talk, but figured this cocksucker deserved some feedback. Indeed, the more I offered, the more he got into it.

He was now working me with long, six inch strokes of his wet mouth and throat. A real hooker BJ. It was the furthest thing from David's version of head. But at that moment, my ex was the furthest thing on my mind.

"God, I'm gonna cum, man!" I gasped. It wasn't a warning, it was a promise. Cause I was sure Cocksucker here wanted my load as bad as I wanted to feed it to him.

Maybe I needed to get laid more, because my orgasm just kept cumming. Maybe I didn't shoot unreal amounts of sperm, but it felt like it. Cocksucker swallowed it all in audible heavy gulps. I kept shooting, then dribbles. The whole time, I rode out my O in successive phases... intense, then steady, then aftershocks.

I hadn't touched him the whole time, but I now patted the side of his cheek. In thanks, but also a signal to let up. I was getting sensitive now.

He took the hint and pulled off, giving the tip a final kiss. He had a towel there, and I wiped off the excess spit, then tucked back in. All the while making eye contact with this man. Maybe it was the anon set up but just that eye connection felt particularly powerful at that moment.

"Thanks," he said, breaking the silence. I'm not sure what I expected his voice to sound like but his voice was deep and masculine, probably more than his looks.

"Yeah," I said. "All right," I added, unsure what the etiquette was. "Later, man. Have a good one."

He nodded, a grin on his face. Like he was amused by my awkwardness now that I'd gotten my rocks off.

That awkwardness didn't last long. As I walked back to my car and got in, I felt supremely happy. It wasn't fair to say I'd never had sex that good, but I'd certainly never had head that good, not by a long shot. My only fear was that Cocksucker had spoiled me for others.

To be honest, I still worry that. Because the anon Cocksucker and I developed a routine. After that first time, we'd messaged. I thanked him and praised his abilities. He offered to service me again. Whenever I wanted. So that following Monday, I stopped by on the way to work. I was in and out in two minutes. Cocksucker was just that good. He'd sucked a good load out of me and left me in a good mood all day at work. I told him so.

"Come by tomorrow, then," he replied, adding a devil's emoji.

"Yeah?" I asked. "I will if you're offering."

"I'm offering," he shot back.

It took a couple weeks before we stopped setting up our suck dates. From then on, Monday through Friday, he'd text me or I'd text him only if one of us couldn't make it. But that was a rarity. Almost every workday, I went over to his house and got my dick royally sucked. It never got old. It was like Cocksucker knew how to introduce new tricks in servicing me. And even when he didn't, the old tricks worked just as well. Sometimes I'd try to hold off cumming right away, sometimes I was eager to get off. Sometimes, he'd work me up slowly, sometimes he went right for the kill.

A year in, and I don't even know his first name. I keep worry he's gonna find a boyfriend or partner or something and shut down the arrangement we have going on. Then I worry I'm gonna find a boyfriend.

Maybe that was on my mind this morning. Like clockwork, I pull up to Cocksucker's place at quarter of 8. Like clockwork, I'm boning up in my business casual work khakis when I turn the knob and let myself in. Cocksucker is not always in the living room. Sometimes it's the bedroom, sometimes the kitchen, having his coffee. Sometimes, he's dressed sometimes naked or in his underwear. But he stops what he's doing and crouches or kneels in front of me. Sometimes before I have time to haul out my fat dick.

This morning, he's setting down his coffee on the kitchen counter and crouching on front of me. He's hungry, hungrier than normal if that's possible. It's gonna be a quick one today. As he goes down on me, I worry Cocksucker is keeping me from getting back out on the dating market. Then as he works me I know he is. I mean, there's no fucking way I'd find a man as talented this, who lives to worship my cock.

I place my hands on his hand and start thrusting. This is new for us. Usually Cocksucker prefers to do the work. But he let me fuck his mouth if I didn't go too hard. I was in the mood to today.

"Mother fuck!" I cry as I give it up, hard. You'd think Cocksucker didn't take care of me just yesterday. It was that kind of cum. Hard, one of those light headed orgasms.

As usual, Cocksucker kisses my dick as it clears his lips.

"That good, man?" he asks me. I wouldn't call it chit chat, but Cocksucker and I have gotten comfortable talking more. Mostly getting a little worked up with verbal before the deed and checking in after.

"The best," I say. "Fuck. man, each time you get better at it," I say.

He smiles. Those brown eyes look up at me, and he pats my leg affectionately before standing back up. "I'm gonna hold off drinking my coffee," he says. "I wanna taste your cum for a while longer."

I chuckle. I don't know, for some reason, I decide to take a chance. "The only thing that would have made it better is knowing your name." I look at him intently, gauging his reaction.

I can tell he's tempted but he shakes his head. "Buddy, I'm pretty sure the anon thing turns you on more." He leans back against the counter. He's in pajama pants and a heathered gray college T-shirt. His build is solid, in a middle-aged dude kind of way. The shirt is snugger than the ones he normally wears, and I have a sudden realization he's been working out lately, maybe dieting too. It makes me realize I know nothing about the man.

I sigh. "Man, I don't know what I want, I guess."

"Whaddya mean?" he asks. God that voice is sexy as fuck.

"I mean I want an on-call cocksucker, but I want a boyfriend, too. Guess I can't decide which is better."

"I wasn't expecting this," Cocksucker said. He finally picks up his mug to take a sip and I find myself regretting he's no longer tasting my cum.

"You mad?" I ask.

"Flattered," he says. "But let's just I can't decide what I want either. I thought I could, before you."

I nod. "What makes me different?" I ask. I am on the verge of being late for work, but I have to know.

He smiles. "You know, at first I thought it because you're young and have a great body and an amazing dick."

"I'm not that young," I object. Maybe I should modestly object to the other parts, too, but I don't.

"Younger than me," he says. "By a good bit."

"I don't give a fuck about that," I say. It's like I'm auditioning for a chance to ask him out.

Cocksucker doesn't respond to that. Instead, he continues. "I think after a while, it was your sheer sexual need that made me go for you. That and the nonverbal stuff. When you suck a dude's cock, you get real in tune with the nonverbal communication."

I nod. "Fuck, I should get going, I gotta be at the office soon.... I guess I dropped some heavy stuff on ya."

He shrugs. "If you come over tonight, would you be able to get off again?"

That surprises me, but I know the answer. "Um, yeah. I definitely could."

He pats my shoulder. We've gotten a lot more comfortable around each other. "Then come over and I'll suck your dick again. And we'll talk. OK."

"Yeah," I say. I'm awkward leaving his place, like I haven't been in ages.

Even if the sex was hot, I find myself going through my day lacking the usual good mood from Cocksucker's handiwork. Instead, I'm mulling things over in my head and wondering if I fucked up a good thing.

Only about 2 o'clock, I get a message. "My name's Sam."

I smile. "Cool. I'm Adam," I reply. Then I type a few variations of the same message, erasing each one before finally sending: "I guess I have a name in my head for you besides Cocksucker."

Maybe that's too much but Sam replies. "Cocksucker is good too! Still on for later? I got home around 6, so any time after that."

"Yeah, sounds great," I type back. Already chubbing up at my desk.

[idkwhatimdoingtf]

TMNT Stuff!!!!

BASICALLYYYY i made an AU off of someone else's AU lmao, @idiot-mushroom Teenage Turtle Ninja Mutants AU to be exact! (GO CHECK IT OUT its soo supa dupa cool and fun and lovingly drawn!!!!) *read more so i dont clog up ppl's dash :]]*

Its unoriginal ik but i got inspired and it'll become its own thing pretty quickly. Imma call it... Teenage Ninja Turtle Yokai AU!! its a 'What If Draxum Took All The Turtles!' Again, not the NEWEST thing but imma do it anyway!!! Too shy to show art js yet (and i have no art @ all-) so take these facts!!

DRAXUM-He/Him-Gay-37

•Kinder and nicer than Canon+TTNM Draxum :] (not that TTNM Drax is bad, TNTY is js WAYYY more protective+overbearing)

•Does NOT let them go outside the Hidden City, told them places beyond the City dont exist

•Talks to Big Mama more, she babysits when Draxy-poo has work to do :]] (btdubs she's the best babysitter+gramma forever and EVER!!)

•Doesnt talk abt Splinter/Yoshi AT ALL. When the turts ask abt him (cuz Drax put up pics of him and Yoshi while still human) he js calls him "Someone I Miss.."

•Still loves Yoshi lots, sometimes he caves and sneaks to NYC to try and visit but he can never seem to find him..

•Trains the turtles the moment their powers start to show, so they can control them WAYYY better now xp

HOKUSAI (aka Leonardo)-He/Him-Gay-15

2nd Youngest

•No real leaders of the group, so he has no role besides being a good bro X]

•Hangs w/his friends a lot, usually out of the house

•Wants to explore soooo bad, 3rd to truly believe there's more beyond the Hidden City

•Not rlly a bully but makes lil pranks+teases his bros lots XP

•Trains his power w/Chiho lots, rlly dedicated to it

•Will throw his life on the line for his fam, maybe not SACRIFICE but get a good hit

•Tends to break the rules a bit, usually comes home to a lecture ready and waiting for him from Draxum lol

CHIHO (aka Raphael)-She/He-Queer-16

Oldest

•Listens to Drax lots, not too big on rule breaking

•Big ol sweetipie, gives the best hugs trust🙏🏽

•Trains her power the most due to it being seen as harmful in his eyes (she hates to hurt accidently ppl (ुŏ̥̥ŏ̥̥) )

•WILL in fact stop the others from sneaking out (atleast not w/o him-) but Hokusai is js a bit too slick for her tastes... (they'll spar abt it l8r)

•Loves her home and his fam, doesnt rlly want anything more.. thinks abt it tho, js a little.. 4th/last to believe there's more beyond the city

•Used to put lil plushies or marshmellows on her shell in order to not scratch nobody or her bros, only rlly does that when going out now

YAYOI (aka Michealangelo)-Any prns-Queer-13

Youngest

•Loves roam around and spraypaint the walls of the Hidden City

•Usually goes out w/Hokusai if not messing around w/a new hobby they discovered

•WILL treat his fam like royalty when upset (physically or mentally), this boy will bake up a STORM for his ppl💪🏽💯🥶

•Loves Drax lots, rlly looks up to and trusts him (∩_∩)

•Goes under the alias 'c0w@bUNg@' on social media (which is ran by Takashi)

•Loves meeting new ppl and making bonds

•1st to believe there's more beyond the City, truly rlly wants to leave and see for herself

•Uses its powers for everything but fighting lmao, will make a swing outta chains

TAKASHI (aka Donnatello)-They/Them-AroAce-15

2nd Oldest*

*Chiho's twin

•Knows a bunch of yokai and Hidden City history you'd think they were there for it all

•Relies on tech to make bonds, thinks no1 will like em if they're js a turtle kid☹️😔

•2nd closest to Drax due to similarity in work (Alchemy/Science+Inventing/Tech. Also Yayoi is the closest to Drax)

•Only rlly goes out for materials to build, after that they are in DESPERATE need to touch grass😞

•Has a bunch of anime related stuff Drax would bring for them (every1 gets human gifts but Takashi has the most due to watching+observing human life most and being more interested in humans than other places)

•Knows humans exist, js not where, this leads them to being the 2nd to believe there's more beyond the Hidden City. Claims its cuz "nO tHeOrIeS cAn Be LeFt UnQuEsTiOnEd!🤓👆🏽" but we all know its cuz they wanna get more 'Mob Psycho 100' merch

And thats abt it!!! I'll prolly add to this and make more for the other characters but other than that, this is all i got rn! Hope this AU does good and you all enjoy it!! Again please check out @idiot-mushroom for his TMNT AU that heavily inspired this one (๑•ᴗ•๑)♡ love ya, bye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[nocturnalrorobin]

Scars

Wc: ~ 1300

Cw: Gore, extreme violence, if you are squeamish at all, don't read, death by burning, torture . Lov3 and care from the guys

Minors dni

This was inspired by a pic drawn by the talented @a-killer-obsession

******************************************************************************

Screams echoed in his head, somewhere in the distance. 

No. They were his own screams, but they sounded off as if they would never actually leave his mouth. He wanted to feel his lower jaw, but his hands were shackled, but he saw the pool of blood he was sitting in. As he looked up, his eyes locked with hers. A woman with a sadistic smile on her face.

“Tsk. Don't give those hurt puppy eyes. I'm a Marine, I could never be attracted to pirate filth like you.” Said the woman in disgust and spit in face. “I give you credit, though. I tortured you for hours. I pulled out all your teeth.” She let every single tooth slowly drop to the floor as she continued. “You never betrayed your captain. I cut out your tongue, and you remained silent.” Again, she dropped the tongue to the floor. “Tell me. Do you remember what I did next?” She sat on her chair, looking down on him.

Heat was crying. He didn't deserve this. What did he ever do that was so wrong? He was shaking, clearly traumatised, but who wouldn't be. 

“It's OK if you don't remember.” She suddenly came close, and Heat, who is a very tall man, made himself really small. “I cut open that mouth of yours. I thought it would help you talk.” She admired her bloody work, but clearly, she was still not satisfied. Heat was sure that at this point, it wasn't about getting information anymore. 

“Next I destroyed your useless lower jaw. It's not like you need it. No?” She let out an insane laughter, one he was sure would haunt him forever if he survived this.  She took a tool from a small table, which was clearly meant for his eyes. He shook his head in panic. “Hold still now!” She said. 

“ATTRACT!” Kid saw him. He was furious. “REPEL” and he knocked out the marine. “Killer bring that bitch to the ship. I wanna take my time with her!” 

Meanwhile, Heat was sobbing loudly as he felt big, warm hands on his shoulders. “I've got you.” Wire freed him from his shackles and helped him up. “Kid! He is losing too much blood. We need to hurry.” Wire noticed that Heat was not really responding; he just stared ahead. 

Wire carried Heat on his back, and they moved as quickly and as carefully as they could.  Mohawk was already awaiting them on the Victoria Punk. “Follow me quickly. I already prepared transfusions and anesthesia.” 

Wire laid him on the surgery table. As soon  as the anesthesia was working. Kid stepped forward. “Can you fix his jaw?” 

“Afraid not. I don't have the necessary tools here on the ship.” He sighed defeated.

Kid rubbed his chin and then stormed off. He returned ten minutes later

“I can fix it, though.” He looked smug, but mostly, he was happy that he wouldn't let his buddy down. 

“Is there a reason you gave him a fire breather function, Kid?” Killer inquired. He and Wire were also in the room. They did not want to leave Heats side. 

“Well if I'm building my own cyborg, he should get a cool ability. Don't you think so?” Kid replied nonchalantly. “Ugh stay in place, you stupid piece of metal shit!!!”

Once the jaw was in place, everyone came to look at it. “Now comes the hard part. I take skin from a healthy part of his body and place it on the area that needs new skin.” Mohawk said. 

“Why do you sound so hesitant? You will do it and you will succeed. Captain's orders.” Kid glared at him. 

“ This isn't a game captain. I've never done this before! Nor do I have all the equipment, remember that.” Mohawk shot right back. 

Everyone watched him carefully during the procedure, but no one said a peep, not even Kid, who always has to say something. 

It took Heat another three hours to wake up from the anesthesia, but when he did, he woke up with a loud scream. His hands clutched his hair as he sobbed uncontrollably. “S-Stop please. N-No more. Please.”  He didn’t realise he was back home. 

Wire, who was just outside the room to talk to Mohawk, stormed in and embraced him. “ Ssshhh. It's OK, little pup. You are safe now. You are home. You are back with me.” Wire said softly while caressing soothing circles on his back. 

“D-Dont look at me. I'm hid-hideous.”  He hid himself away from Wire. The embrace just got tighter. Wire placed gentle kisses on Heat's head. 

“Don't say that little pup. You are perfection.” Wire lifted Heats head and gently kissed him everywhere. He understood that Heat needed a lot of time to heal after this. 

Two days later.

“Heat. Are you up? Good. Come with me. That bitch that tortured you, deserves some payback and you are gonna give it to her.” Kid said and disappeared.  

Heat was different than Kid. He was shy and soft hearted. The thought of him having to torture a woman made him sick to his stomach. 

“Don't worry, pup, you will be fine, trust me. Trust your captain!” Wire stated as he noticed how Heat shuffled in front of the torture room. 

His eyes widened when he entered the room. His tormentor was hanging there, just like he did not too long ago. All her teeth and tongue were gone, displayed in front of her, and just like Heats mouth, hers was slit open wide. The only difference was that her lower jaw was still intact. 

“She thought she could hurt one of my partners and get away with it. Foolish little Marine.” He walked over and pulled her head upwards on her hair. “You know I wanted to kill you myself, but then I thought no. Heat should be the one. After all, he got a fancy new upgrade “thanks” to you.”

Heat stood in front of her and didn't know how to feel. “C-captain I don't want this.”  He turned around. 

“Don't you want to know what upgrade you got? You can breathe fire, dude.” Kid sighed. He wasn't good with emotional stuff, but he couldn't ignore one of his own either. Especially not Heat, the four of them were all in an open relationship with each other, and it's an open secret that Heat is a bit of a pyromaniac that's why Killer asked about the ability. 

He stopped suddenly lifting his head to look at Wire, who just nodded to him. “Make her pay pup! I'm here. We are here.” 

Heat slowly walked towards her and stared her pitiful form down. “One more thing before you start torching her. Don't open your mouth too much, I don't want your scars to rip open. Now go get her!” Kid gave him one final punch on his shoulder and went behind him to the other commanders. 

Heat swallowed hard. His heart was racing in his chest, and he knew once he'd do this, there would be no going back. He shut his eyes and immediately saw images of the time when that horrible woman tortured him. Maybe he would see those images forever, but she - she could go away. He could make her go away.

He opened his mouth, and his new mechanical tongue flicked the flame. He watched her as her hair lit on fire and her clothes and then her skin. Tears kept running down his cheeks as he heard her screaming, and his mind just relished the mere fact that he himself was breathing fire. Killer pulled him away after she was clearly dead. “It's over, buddy. She's gone.” 

He fell to his knees, covering his face and sobbing once more. The three of them embraced him “We are here no matter what. We love you.”

[artiemartietartie]

ok so. i don’t know when i’ll post again. so to hold y’all over i’m showing sketches that i never posted

it’s not much and i don’t expect this to take off but i just want it out there

JUST A HEADS UP some of these are old and u can tell by how weirdly drawn it is some were done when i was still trying to get the hang of drawing them

alright putting context for each of the doodles in order under the cut!!!

1 - drew big dimple for class. basically my teacher gave us prompts and we could pic any one and go ham with it and do whatever we want!! i chose anatomy cuz if u think about it dimple’s rlly huge n buff soooooo that counts as anatomy

2 - doodle from october i don’t remember posting about?? if i have then pretend this is the first time you’re seeing it

3 and 4 - had an INCREDIBLY self indulgent idea where reigen teaches dimple to dance!!! i don’t know why dimple would want to but i just want an excuse to imagine them dancing together okay 😭😭😭 i don’t think reigen is excellent at dancing but decent enough to teach and i just WANT THEM to start off sloppy with their dances but over time with these lessons they get more in sync and one night in the office they do a slow dance and there’s a lot of romantic tension in the air dimple dips reigen and reigen pulls his face closer to his and their lips almost touch before reigen gently pushes him away red in the face murmuring how he’s getting better at this and dimple is ALSO red in the face (and this is pre-relationship too 💙💙💙💙)

5 - ekurei but they’re on a kiddie writing pad

6 - this one is also so self indulgent me and payton were listening to red flags by tom cardy one night and wanted to connect it to ekurei so BADLY and we had the idea dimple’s “red flag” is how he’s so obsessed with god and religion and wanting to become god

7 - doodle for @clownwry ‘s little au because it makes me SOB LOUDLY