Tumgik
#i kind of wish no one would bother me with their problems
furiouswidgeon · 15 days
Text
i wanna ask people i know if they think the way i think is abnormal and low empathy but that seems like an awful idea because a lot of the examples i may give are things that would make those people feel upset
0 notes
nerdynikki94 · 10 months
Text
Honestly? Did I want more from DTAMHD? Yes, I did. I wanted something signifying actual progression for Dennis' character (even just a crumb of genuine growth) , and I sincerely don't think we got that. However... we did get a fascinating insight into the process of his mind. Dennis' level of self-denial is so ironic and profound. He can't acknowledge the inevitability that he's middle-aged.
(I swear this episode honestly has given me an alt hc, that the show is based in his mind; because logistically, a man of his lifestyle and malnourishment could not commit the feats he is constantly sailing through. TGGB & DTAMHD... back-to-back? What happened to his hand? Did he even sprain it? Or is he just the most dramatic brat in the gang - clearly the latter.)
It is important to note that he didn’t fix the actual problem. He momentarily masked the symptoms, but ignore long-term help with blood pressure medicine is not going to fix the issue, nor is it going to protect him from fucking keeling over in a stressful situation (when he's not in a contained and quiet Doctor's exam room) and his blood pressure spikes.
I'm honestly a little jaded at this point (16 Fucking Seasons of crumbs, y'all), but if one were to continue 'trusting the structure' this episode conveyed a lot.
The B Plot: The pressure cooker. The metaphor parallels the building pressure Dennis quick-tempered bouts of rage. So, to toss out a little 'cat-in-the-wall' conjecture here: The pressure cooker is Dennis, but we all saw him eat that bloody diamond in the end and we all heard Mac's speech about coal turning into diamonds under massive pressure. Dennis' experience is a theory of pressure, he daydreams it all in the span of a minute or so. He's roleplaying with hypothetical obstacles. There's no risk. Maybe Dennis, isn't the pressure cooker, but the coal.
If I were to try and take anything hopeful out of this episode, it would be the way the narrative is showing us that this episode acknowledged that Dennis isn't ready yet. It's not his turn to break. It's going to take real, substantial pressure to get that diamond.
It was a hell of a misdirect (and honestly a little bit of a slap in the face), but if these characters live in the real world, where people are bound by the laws of mortality, then Dennis should have his time.
Genuinely, who fucking knows?
I'm not hating on the episode. We all know this is the trashy dick joke sitcom. I just thought that if Mac & Charlie could have moments of genuine heartbreak, culminating in deep catharsis, that maybe Dennis could have that too.... but no.
Can't wait to see the sunny dudebros miss the point & proclaim Dennis Reynolds - SA victim, traumatized individual with an emotionally tumultuous personality disorder - the new Andrew Tate.
I'm sorry, but yeah. I'm a little miffed. It was all a dream, and everything goes Dennis' way. Y'all I'm fucking tired. This was a great episode for Glenn, but a fucking frustrating episode for Dennis. I may have wanted a little macden, but all I cared about was seeing Dennis face the limitations of his mortality, to see that he's failing his body and his brain. He didn't have to actually take the medicine (I wouldn't expect him to), but Goddammit, everything seems to work out in his delusional favor. So, of course he's going to continue being delusional, and probably only change for the worse.
I'll say it: I wanted a broken Dennis, and we did not get that. He didn't even crack, the unbearble and apparently now canonical Golden God. That episode's title was intended to tease sunnyblr.
Excuse the plethora of tags. I just kept getting more irritated.
#what i take from the episode is further insight to the lengths of Dennis' repression which adds to my fic#iasip s16#i will say this: i can't dislike this episode solely because of how phenomenal glennjamin's performance was.#I'd say I'm retracting the title of macden 'truther'. I'm still a stan. but this ep made me realize dennis is too coddled by the narrative#with TGGB he's constantly winning. even the game he doesn't stay to watch the end of. his body performing near miracles. wtf#the real reason I'm seriously bothered is the sunny dudebros. they already idolize dennis#this ep has only made it worse because the obvious point of Dennis' actual delusions will go right over their heads.#anybody with a grounded sense of reality can tell you that dennis did not solve a problem#he dreamt up a scenario in some kind of toxic meditation session. he's getting older. and his denial is metastasizing#Dennis' denial isn't sustainable. I'm kind of cutting off my investment in that regard. he's a fucking mess & he's currently being idolized#dennis reynolds#definitely not my favorite episode. not bc of lack of macden. a little bc Den needs limitations. mainly bc 'it was all a dream' is cheap#ranting.excuse me for wanting 1 of my fave characts actually have his poor health.self-destructive coping mechanism/trauma acknowledged#can't believe i was actually afraid i wouldn't be able to write because too much might happen in DTAMHD...! 🤣#it should've all happened. but instead ended w/him getting charges pressed when he tried to break into ceo's home#ngl. this one hurt. I'm ready for Mac to give up on Dennis. i just wish this fucking show would let him.#excuse me while i go bawl like a baby watching MFHP. because I'm heartbroken that Dennis' BPD makes him push Mac away.#let's just say that realization has been bogging me down in my personal life the last couple of days. & this bummed me out.#Robert McElhenney. I'm outside the studio screaming at you to just let Mac move on & actually meet someone!#I'm not saying he deserves a relationship. but fuck... after 40 yrs of repression can he at least have a fling & fall out of love w/Den?#Dennis won't ever let him meet someone. & he'll never treat Mac like he actually cares about him.bc his own vulnerability terrifies him.😭
12 notes · View notes
fooltofancy · 8 months
Text
ough p sure the recent slate of headaches is actually coming from my headphones 😭
5 notes · View notes
zhongrin · 3 months
Text
skilled fingers, devious heart
Tumblr media
© zhongrin | 2024  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡
Tumblr media
✼ characters ┈ al haitham
✼ tags ┈ minors dni, fem-bodied reader (reader has a pussy), bratty!reader, manhandling, restraints, orgasm denial/control, edging, brat taming, light degradation, oral, light spanking, overstimulation, hint of c█rr█pt█d!haitham (hence he has his mean moments), aftercare, longfic (3.6k+)
✼ a/n ┈ “let me just draft a quick birthday oneshot for al haitham!” ー meirin, a total clown, circa 2024 /silly ..... anyways, happy birthday to the silliest man in sumeru. i love him dearly and i love that his bday is literally just a day away from my mom and one of my besties. very convenient to remember lol also, happy chinese new year!!! ✨
ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
when you asked your boyfriend what he wanted to do for his birthday, you didn't think he would ask for this. then again, al haitham was mostly an unpredictable man, even to you as his lover. he seemed to have a knack for constantly having you on your toes, always anticipating his next actions and reminding you how much of a complex individual he was despite his simple aspirations in life.
such as now, when he requested you to ‘spread your legs and stay still’.
contrary to him, your answer was - at least in his eyes - predictable. a raise of eyebrows, a fox-like grin tugging on your lips, and al haitham could already hear the smug tone of your voice before you could even spoke the words, “make me.”
the fact that you loved to play a dangerous game with a dangerous man always came back to bite you in the ass, but your boyfriend played his part so well, it kept you coming back for more. he knew just the right way to respond to your challenge that made you shiver with want: muscles flexing as he pinned you down onto your shared bed, your preferred choice of restraints keeping you immobile and indecently spread for his blooming green eyes to observe. his pupils lined with brick reds dilated, the scholar stared at the resulting sight like a museum curator appraising an acclaimed artwork.
despite this, you were a fervent fire ablaze in the face of downpour, “it’s not like you to brute force your way into tackling a problem. was this morning’s session not enough for mister feeble scholar?”
ah. this artwork sure has a feisty personality to it.
al haitham snorted, his arm moving to place a hand on your inner thigh, tracing circles and indescribable patterns, “why do you bother futilely talking back and acting resilient in front of me, when it’s obvious how much power i hold over you? even the brightest students know to learn from their mistakes, so have you not learned from this morning about how powerless you are?”
he would never admit it, but while such display of bullheadedness irritated him when it came from other people, somehow it was almost adorable coming from you.
“wh- i'm not powerless!”
“the facts proved against your favor, however. especially considering how i’ve just succeeded in tossing you onto our bed and holding your body down. i know i could do whatever i wanted with you… and i was right, wasn’t i?” the hand holding your thigh squeezed briefly, his breath slowly caressing your skin the more he leaned closer, “besides, it’s also been proven that you like such treatments.”
you blushed, memories that proved his claims flooding your mind. yet, you huffed and looked away in hope to alleviate the warmth that was starting to bubble on your cheeks.
“so you might be needlessly strong physically, yes, okay, whatever. would you like a gold star for that?”
unfortunately(?) for you, despite the biting words, he didn’t miss the signs of your flustered state. his voice was as leveled as ever as more silken words fell from his lips; the very same ones you wished would just kiss you already, “remember how I pinned your hands above your head? how you tried kicking and wriggling, saying how you ‘can’t’ and yet… we both knew what exactly happened after that, don’t we?”
you felt your core clench at the taunt, throat swallowing at the picture he painted. your legs tugged against the straps as if you wanted to kick him. in turn, all you got back was an amused low chortle.
“cute,” the soft remark almost flew by you, but alas, before you could snap back at him, his touch started to trail further, tracing your labia before spreading the pink folds open with his fingers. an embarrassed squeak by you was followed by a condescending hum by your partner, his eyes zeroing on the slick coating your pretty clit and inner lips that oozed the remnants of your prior lovemaking, “and so mouthwateringly indecent.”
his digits dragged against your dripping cunt, a teasing smirk dancing on his face when a soft noise left your throat in response.
"such a mess," he remarked, infuriatingly nonchalant as if he hadn’t loved you so intensely just a few hours ago, “you were truly, completely cockdrunk last night, weren't you?"
“s-shut up…”
“why should i? you’ve mentioned how much you liked my voice. i doubt your perspectives had changed since then.”
“you don’t know that. maybe i don’t like it anymore,” you countered pettily.
“yet your body seems to arrive at a different conclusion,” the languid lull in his voice couldn’t mask the delight he experienced as he saw your sopping wetness drip with want. your lover smirked, dragging his finger up and down slowly, gathering your slick to circle around your swollen pearl, feathery touches leaving you wanting for more. the way you were shaking, your body twitching from sensitivity in return of his ministrations, was almost as hot as actual sex itself.
“ah… you meanie-” you inhaled sharply as this wicked, wicked man purposefully started rubbing your clit in the way he knew would make you putty in his hands. firm and calculated flicks followed by a finger slipping into your creamy cunt made you keen wantonly, thighs momentarily spreading wider before you found your decorum, rear falling back onto the soft sheets, teeth biting down on your bottom lip.
al haitham watched in fascination as you tried to regain your attitude. he wondered how long that would last this time. you were a puzzle that enthralled him, a chorus he wanted to listen forever. he might not have been studying under kshahrewar back in his younger days, but there was a part of him that wanted to pick you apart and put you back together again.
this was why he was so addicted to you.
he didn’t particularly enjoy doing extra work, but given the reward waiting for him at the end of the road, he determinedly doubled his action; one finger tapping and circling, the other knuckle-deep inside your tight heat, intense and unforgiving.
“fffuck- h-haitham-” the stutter of your needy voice sharpened his smirk, expression hardening into focus as he observed the twitch of your hips and the rivulets of juices coating his appendages. he briefly admired the way your skin glowed in perspiration, the way your fleshy parts rippled as you squirmed under him. no words could properly capture the desire brewing and consuming his whole being at having the privilege to witness such a sight.
he saw your breathing quicken, felt the clenching and unclenching of your walls, the way you started to move your hips as far as the restraints allowed, and your abdomen dipping as you inched nearer and nearer to bliss.
a mean glint of red, and his fingers withdrew quickly.
“wha- ah?”
you blinked and panted, eyes snapping wide as the coil loosened, and your sight settled on al haitham’s smug tilt of his head.
“i told you to stay still.”
“you… you prick! meanie! bastard!”
“that’s not the attitude you should be adapting given the current position of power,” he chided, before his hand deviously dropped back to its previous position, resuming in a much teasingly slower pace; a silent implication of what he could have done but chose not to, ”if you beg nicely, maybe i’ll allow you to cum. but be warned, you’ll be doing it until i am satisfied.”
“-son of a- oh! a-ah-” your words failed you as he added one extra finger into your warmth, prodding just near your favorite spot within the gummy walls, yet never directly.
you knew he could go deeper. he was dangling that carrot over you, and you were tempted to fall for his little game.
“pardon? what was that?” he asked, and if you didn’t see the way the corner of his lips curl up through your bleary eyes, you might have believed that he truly missed your barrages of insults born out of frustration, “would you like to say it louder?”
“archons, you- j-jerk!”
“oh?”
the sudden shift of his touch, turning firmer and faster, made you gasp and whimper, body twitching involuntarily as you felt the sensation build up yet again. your toes curl and your calves tensed, tugging against the harness as your biting words turned into needy moans. a shudder rocked your body, the back of your head digging onto the soft mattress as you felt him mouth on your collarbone, nibbling, tormenting in the most delectable way.
“use your words, darling. you were so smart with them just seconds ago.”
“haa- ngh! j-just let me cum, you unfair little-”
al haitham sighed like a disappointed tutor who had just discovered that his best student had earned an F in their recent exam. the sudden loss of his touch and the way you were forced to come down from that white-hot lines of satisfaction yet again made you cry out, the restraints straining noisily as you tried to buck onto something, anything.
a smirk returned onto his face as he witnessed your verbal and physical protest. that’s right, not yet. this was why he adored your stubbornness. he was going to tease and torment you until you were a total wreck, and then he would give you your reprieve in multitudes.
“how obstinate of you to continue denying your desires even when all outcomes dictate your loss,” the man remarked, palming your soft thighs and enjoying the way they dipped under the pressure of his hands. he was tempted to leave a few reds in the shape of his handprints, but he refrained… for now. that can come later.
“h-haitham….,” you mustered the wettest puppy eyes you could manifest - which wasn’t that hard considering the tears of pleasure already pooling in your eye lines - and blinking though your lashes at him, an adorable pout on your lips.
“what? is something missing to really help you release all of that tension?" he faked an indifferent tone fully meant to provoke.
you groaned, shivering as you felt the cold air brushing your flushed skin and swollen bundle of nerves begging for attention, “al haitham...!” you whined while quivering, eyes blown in desire, your pride refusing to budge any more than this.
the man smirked as your protests weakened with every seconds that ticked, the look of desire and lust in your eyes clearly increasing in intensity the more he reveled in your plight.
"hm?" he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, "still being stubborn?" he moved his middle finger towards the folds of your pussy, dragging it along your indecently leaking entrance and up into your aching clit, swirling slowly and making you shiver in response. even the smallest movements resulted in a sound that showcased how drenched you were, and it was all according to his plans, "are you sure you want to keep playing this game? you know who’s the more patient one in this relationship… you’re all tied up and i’m free to do this all day if i wanted to. i wouldn’t mind — it would be a good way to spend my day off.”
eyes teary, teeth gnawing on your lip, you bucked your hips as his finger touched the swollen nerves directly this time, "s-shut up...! you’re so- ugh! if you’re gonna be so cruel then don’t touch me at all!"
your beloved chuckled, dragging his digits up and down in the same teasing motion, playing with your sensitivity with a touch that sent you teetering to heaven but bordering to hell with how tortuously slow it was. he was a master as you were a slave to pleasure; your moans ramping up into wounded desperation just as he guided you back into the tightrope of lust, spiraling into the ecstasy you so desperately sought. you sobbed and trembled; heart beating loudly in your ears. you were so helplessly pent-up, so deliciously close-
“beg.”
the devil’s voice entered your ears and you grit your teeth. he wouldn’t, right? not for the third time. no, he wasn’t that despicable, he wouldn’t. he’ll give it to you, he’s-
“beg.”
the pressure lightened, and you inhaled sharply.
“please!” the word fell from your lips before you could stop them, “i need- i want…!”
your boyfriend stopped, a trail of your slick followed his appendages’ ascent as he withdrew to appreciate the stream of glistening slick coating your tender pussy and how your hips canted, trying to guilelessly chase his touch, throat singing a needy whine that sounded so beautiful he was almost tempted to keep denying your release for the next hour.
“haitham, please, please!” you sounded so high-pitched and so utterly adorable, he couldn’t help but place a peck on your thigh. tears of relief joined your tears of pleasure as you saw his pleased smile and the way he complied with your begging, though it still wasn’t enough.
“yes? don’t just call my name, darling. elaborate. go on, you can do it,” he carried on with the slow circles around your throbbing clit, fingers barely pumping into your drooling cunt.
“please! i can’t take it anymore…!" you hiccuped, keening, abdomen twitching, so sensitive that the slightest touch was making you toe on the brink of insanity.
al haitham smirked wickedly, watching as your mind and body were losing that self-control, your hips rocking back and forth while your face and eyes colored with pleasure. breathing in disarray, body a quivering mess, he almost wished he had a kamera to immortalize this perverse scene.
“are you asking me to help you release?”
“b-begging! i’m begging you- please let me cum!” you were definitely on the edge, shuddering, legs trying to flail against the tight bondage. a pleased groan rumbled in his throat, and his hand finally reverted into the pace and motions that made you see stars.
“louder,” a command.
“please help me cum!!!”
your muscles tensed as you tasted the precipice of bliss, your lips babbling, chanting his name and a series of undignified pleadings that implored him to not stop this time. you received an approving hum for your clear show of subservience and a soft peck on your cheek that made you moan in appreciation.
“i hope you didn’t forget what i said earlier,” he whispered against your ear, sultry and littered with hidden mischievous intent that you completely missed, too focused on reaching that high with each flick of his wrist and with each pressing prod of his finger—
the expertly placed thrust onto your g-spot was the cause of your crumble into depravity; walls sucking him in as your back arched in your climax. lips open in a silent scream, you missed the adoring look of your lover as he watched you spiral into bliss.
ah, your blissful ignorance is always so, so delicious to see.
before you could even start to wind down from your intense release, the sinful appendages picked up their salacious endeavors once more, three of them stirring your sopping wet mess and massaging your sweet spot relentlessly. al haitham’s mouth latched on your swollen bundle, his tongue flicking and sucking in turn, savoring your sweet taste and basking in your erotic cries that followed.
“can’t! can’t- too much! h-ah-ngh-!”
he ignored your feeble protests in favor of focusing on the task at hand; tongue lapping on the copious juices dribbling out of you as he pumped the slender fingers right onto your sensitive pussy’s weak spot. the sounds of your wetness echoed indecently in the room, a lewd orchestration of sensuality accompanied by your reprehensible babbling.
the second orgasm crashed against your senses and you sobbed, whining and jolting as he helped you ride it to your most satisfaction. eyes rolling, you barely registered the way he lapped at your juices like a man starved, before pulling back to observe the effect of his unholy actions. and he must have seen something, for when your vision cleared from euphoria, he had taken to caress you once again.
“one more. you can give me one more,” the rasp in his voice sent a jolt of desire in your loins, yet at the same time, the overstimulation had started to settle in. this time, the pleasure made your whole body tremor and for once you had no idea if the straps were a blessing or a curse; your limbs flailed and strained, instinctively writhing at the assault of stimulation.
“f-fuck! oh! a-archons- my love, please!!”
“i told you, didn’t i?” he purred, salacious and mocking, a flicker of red and a sneer, “’if you beg nicely, maybe i’ll allow you to cum. but be warned, you’ll be doing it until i am satisfied.’ well, my love, i am not yet satisfied.”
all senses of modesty had been thrown out of the window at this point. a series of disgraceful noises left your throat, tears running down your temples as you stayed rooted to your spot on the bed, oxytocin flooding your brain and numbing your senses. stringing words proved to be difficult when you were oversensitive and your lover seemed determined to see you mindless and utterly ruined by his touches.
if before, you were a helpless traveler stranded on a desert chasing on the mirage of an oasis, this time you felt like you were drowning in an ocean full of pleasure. all senses submerged in the ruthless waves of unbridled desires that made you both paralyzed and set you aflame.
“look at you,” al haitham's words came out harsh despite having a pleased hum to it as he battered your fleshy nub harder, insistent and undeterred by your unconvincing protests. he smirked, pleased with your cries and senseless noises leaving your lips, free from your brain’s usual filtering. your mind and body were already beyond your control as he slowly edged you closer and closer to that sweet release yet again. “so needy for me. gushing endlessly like you’re in heat.”
he watched you writhe and quake, a sliver of drool escaping the side of your opened mouth, his cock straining against the confines of his pants, but oh, he was enjoying every second of it. his free hand palmed your thigh before delivering a light slap, his eyes dilating when it made your breath hitch and your body jerk. each impact brought you to the absolute edge of delirium, and every time the pads of his fingers grind and stretched your gummy walls, the more debauched pleas left your emptied mind.
“c-cumming! cumming! i’m close, love, please! i’m- ah—”
“good,” it was almost sadistic, how he seemed to take so much satisfaction from seeing you so shamefully addicted to his mere fingers, “then come.”
a choked sob and a few insistent taps onto your oversensitive clit took your vision into a realm of whites. your finish was immaculately designed to enrapture you in a burst of nothingness, where nothing else mattered but you and your boyfriend's eloquent expertise. ears ringing, your consciousness temporarily froze in the state of heavenly rapture.
when you came down from the vivid paradise, you found your limbs freed from the restraints, your lover dutifully checking the reddened skin to make sure you hadn’t caused any injuries to yourself. seeing your glazed eyes settling onto his form, he leaned over and stroked your cheek, speaking in a soft voice with a caring tone far too detached from the demeaning and authoritative tone just moments ago.
“you did so well.”
though your senses were totally fried from the overstimulation and you still couldn’t exactly feel your limbs, a loopy grin spread on your lips. soft pair of green eyes watched you in adoration as he tucked you onto his chest, a gentle kiss descending on top of your head as he cradled you within his arms.
“verdict from one to ten?”
“mmmm…. twenty.”
“hm. it appears you’re still more delirious than i judged.”
a playful swat to his side was all you could manage, and you were rewarded with the rare soft laugh of your usually stoic lover.
“you’re adorable.”
“and you’re mean.”
“you speak as if the attitude does not bring you joy.”
“shut up and cuddle me.”
“ordering me around on my birthday? you’re spoiled.”
“and whose fault is that?”
“mine,” al haitham admitted with a smile, silently grateful for your presence, your witty banter, your hardheadedness, your loving eyes, your everything — you, who were undoubtedly and indubitably….
“mine,” he repeated and pressed another kiss, this time to your lips: a silent promise for spending his next birthdays with you once again.
bonus:
“still,” you sighed into his hold as your breathing steadied, looking up at him in half curiosity and half concern, “this doesn’t seem like a birthday present for you.”
al haitham looked down at you, the mischievous glint in his eyes returning. he guided your hand, and your small daydream of him being unusually romantic to initiate hand holding before spewing some cheesy lines like in those light novels were dashed when you found a familiar hardness twitching against your palm.
“bold of you to you think that my appetizer was the main course.”
Tumblr media
✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈ @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @sunnshineflxwer | @yuutasbabe | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @marina-and-the-memes | @mixed-kester | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @sassy-cat-in-town | @syrenkitsune | @smokipoki | @cakeboxie | @crystalflygeo | @ciexuvia | @illaasya | @celestewritestoomuch | @pams-comfortzone | @spidermanluvr444 | @ourstrawberryclouds | @ryuryuryuyurboat | @hrts4hanniehae | @fiannee | @jingyuansbird | @florapocalypses | @genshin-impacts-me | @scarasmood | @hellcatinnc
1K notes · View notes
navybrat817 · 3 months
Note
How often does Dad!Bucky get hit on when he's in the baby aisle grabbing diapers?
A lot, Cia! And you get to see it one day.
The Dad Diaries: Diaper Aisle
Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You witness a woman flirting with Bucky, but you don't react the way you expect. Word Count: Almost 1.2k Warnings: Fluff, flirting, reflecting, first time dad, slight feels (it's me), parenthood, random woman thirsty for Bucky (we get it), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?). A/N: Next part of The Dad Diaries and from your perspective. Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Bucky doesn’t like to make a big deal out of people flirting with him. For starters, he’s a married man and has made it clear that he has no intention of ever stepping out on you. He would never. You are his wife and soulmate, the love of his life, and the mother of his child. You’re all he needs.
Second, he’s unassuming. You tell him regularly how handsome he is, but he isn’t arrogant about his looks and doesn’t think every woman who looks his way has the intention of hitting on him. He may give a polite smile or nod if he catches someone staring, but will immediately divert his attention back to the task at hand, such as getting those diapers for Jamie.
Fatherhood is sexy on him.
“Your Dada is amazing,” you say to Jamie as you wait beside your cart for Bucky to grab the box.
You smile to yourself when a woman nearly runs her cart into the shelving when Bucky walks past. Not that you blame her for staring. With his luscious locks flowing free, his worn jean jacket fitting like it was made for him, and the sweatpants leaving little to the imagination, you would’ve gawked at him, too.
Which you did earlier and were now.
“Excuse me,” the woman calls out loudly, making Bucky pause as he puts the box under his arm. “So sorry to bother you, but would you mind grabbing a jar for me off the top shelf? I would really appreciate it.”
“No problem,” he says, giving you a small smile from across the aisle as he goes to help the woman.
You wait patiently as the lady thanks him with a grin. You get why she wants Bucky close by. Beyond his overall gorgeousness and kindness, he displays a responsible side of himself when he walks through the baby aisle. He never carries himself in a way that says he’s annoyed or inconvenienced by being there. Carefully selecting the diapers and anything else needed shows how attentive he is. And responsible.
You understand the appeal.
Though, you do wish the lady would stop undressing your husband with her eyes. You practically hear her inhale when he’s close enough. He does smell good, but does she have to step into his space?
“This one?” Bucky asks.
The woman has to blink a few times before she responds. “Oh, sorry. The one next to it. You really are too kind,” she answers, sweeping her gaze over him from head to toe as he reaches over for another jar. You have to bite the inside of your cheek when she takes it from his hand. “It’s too bad you can’t help me bring this stuff in when I get home.”
Yeah, it is too bad.
Clearing his throat, Bucky nods in your direction. “Well, my son might miss me if I’m away for too long. And I’ll miss him and my wife.”
The woman goes rigid as she looks your way. “Your wife?”
Bucky smiles from ear to ear when you wave. “Yeah, my wife,” he proudly states, making your heart skip a beat.
Any jealousy or bad feeling you have slips away when you see some of the light leave the woman’s eyes and the sag in her shoulders. It’s almost like seeing her in a different light because you know how you’ve felt since giving birth. At times, you feel less attractive than normal, that your body won’t be the way it used to be. You wonder if Bucky still wants you.
And you want to be seen.
While you don’t know her story, you understand the need to feel wanted and desired. It doesn’t go away when you become a mother. You don’t even know if she is a mother or if she’s in the aisle shopping for a sister, friend, or someone else. Maybe her partner isn’t giving her the attention she needs. Maybe she isn’t with anyone.
Maybe she just needed a win today.
“Take care,” Bucky says politely before he walks toward you, leaving the woman alone to stare after him. “Anything else we need?” He asks once he puts the diapers on the bottom of the cart, giving Jamie a small tickle and making all three of you smile.
“I think we’re good,” you say, glancing down the aisle. You could grab Bucky’s hand and stake your claim as the woman makes eye contact with you, but you give her a small nod and a sympathetic smile instead before you push the cart away. “That was nice of you to help her,” you say once you’re out of sight.
Bucky raises an eyebrow as he glances your way. “I don’t usually say this outright, but I’m pretty sure she was hitting on me.”
“Oh, she was,” you agree.
“Does that bother you?” He asks, brushing a kiss to your temple and making your heart race.
You shake your head as you think about it. “It did at first because it’s only natural to feel that way, but it went away pretty quickly. I have no reason to feel jealous or defensive. If it would’ve been bad or crossed a line, I would’ve stepped in. But you proudly proclaimed that I’m your wife and she backed off right away. And I know you’re coming home with Jamie and I, so why would I let it bother me?” you explain, spotting something soft in his gaze.
Like he’s amazed by you.
“That makes sense,” he says.
“I can only hope that someone like you comes along for her,” you add, your heart going out to the stranger.
The blue of Bucky’s eyes shine a bit brighter when you catch his gaze. “I love you,” he says so tenderly that you feel butterflies in your stomach and heart.
“I love you, too,” you promise before you nudge him. “And you know what? I don’t fault her at all. You know what wearing those pants does to people. It’s like some sort of sexy magic.”
His nose crinkles as he laughs, the sound making a few turn their heads. Once again, you don’t blame them for gawking. “Did you just say ‘sexy magic’ in front of our son? Is that why you like these pants?”
“Oh, yeah. You put a spell on me,” you smirk before you smile gently at your son. “And I’m very lucky for that because now I have you.”
You don’t know it yet, but Bucky will write in his diary to Jamie about how you handled yourself today. How you could’ve stormed over and grabbed him or made a snide comment to the woman, but you didn’t. And that if you felt jealous, even for a moment, you didn’t let it cloud your judgement. You know when to observe and when you need to step in. You know when to lead with your heart.
Just one of the many reasons Bucky Barnes considers himself lucky to call you his wife and the mother of his child.
And no matter how many times he gets hit on in the diaper aisle, he’ll always come home to you.
Tumblr media
I adore this family. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
1K notes · View notes
ryo-maybe · 2 years
Note
can u explain why AI art is bad without fearmongering, moralizing or bootlicking lol
I'm going to answer in good faith, even though the tone you're using sounds like you're harboring anything but. The issue with AI art isn't specifically inherent to the tools used to produce it, because, ultimately, a tool is merely that: something devoid of will which, in the hands of a human, can produce a specific outcome. It's the human element that taints what we could otherwise enjoy for the unquestioningly fascinating topic that is AI art and, by extension, AI software as a whole.
Now, the problem isn't people, period, but the kind of people that are responsible for giving AI the bad rep it's been getting, along with the intent that goes into both the development of AI tools and the things produced by dint of said tools. I'm talking about the tech bros happily rubbing their hands, waiting to provide business moguls with a brand new means to commodify and mass-produce what artists stake their entire livelihoods upon, because when you have enough zeroes lined up in your bank account, your eyes are utterly blinded to the soul and personality that human beings put into their handiwork, and which a machine won't ever be able to reproduce no matter how much stolen art you feed it. Oh yeah, by the way, that's how AI art tools have been making the rounds: by chewing on thousands upon thousands of stolen pictures made by actual people so that they may learn how to ape someone's style and spit out absolutely soulless derivatives, while the original authors don't see a lick of recognition or monetary retribution for any of it. Do I need to tell you why stealing and parading someone else's art as your own is a terrible, vile thing to do?
But sure, you did ask me to refrain from "fearmongering, moralizing or bootlicking", which I guess I've already done. So since you'd rather I skipped straight to the point in a concise manner, lemme offer some quick examples of why the culture surrounding AI art has already developed into one of the most abysmally disappointing displays of how greed and an utter lack of human decency can ruin something objectively brimming with possibilities:
Less than a week after the sudden death of Korean artist Kim Jung-gi, someone trained an AI model to mimic his artstyle, having the audacity of asking for credits if anyone wished to use it. I sincerely hope I don't have to explain to you why this is a ghoulish example of the kind of tone-deafness sported by tech bros who buy wholesale into the AI art craze.
A piece of AI art was submitted to an art contest and won. The "artist"'s work amounted to little more than picking a series of prompts and letting the machine do the work. It's as much art as googling a smattering of terms and making a collage of pictures taken from Pinterest (and even then, you would have put more work into it than this person did). That they won at all says a whole damn lot about how abysmal the respect given to artists - real artists - nowadays is.
There are a multitude of people out there already selling prints of AI-generated art. I could link some of them here, but honestly, type "ai art prints" on a search engine and you'll get inundated by them. I've seen and personally know artists who have had to undersell their works because commissions were the only thin, frayed string they could hang on in hopes of making it through the week without fucking starving themselves, but here we are: any random asshole can now yell "MASSIVE BREASTS, THIN WAIST, COCKTAIL DRESS, HUGE BADONGAS" at a computer, let it mash together a trillion of other people's hard work, and print it for easy bucks that the actual authors of the basic ingredients of their insipid soup will never, ever see a dime of.
It really bothers me that you mentioned "no bootlicking". Whose fucking boots is this side of the debate supposedly tasting? That of the artists who post every day about how angry, sad and terrified they are by the prospects of what the development of AI art will entail for their livelihood and passion? What kind of gall did your mother birth you with that you have the spiteful spunk to type that word, when you've got shit like an artist who had their sketch stolen while they were drawing it on stream, then fed to an AI and posted by someone passing it off as their own art? How does that not ignite your indignation? "Bootlicking". Like anyone's tongues have been tasting leather but those of the same tech bro chodes who kept trying oh so hard to convince us NFTs were the future while ruining the environment to make the absolute stupidest point ever made in the history of humanity.
9K notes · View notes
alexisomnias · 8 months
Text
— "KITTIES" . . . | twst
⤷ they can turn into cats!
angels notes: modernish au, a whisker away inspired
characters | overblot boys
Tumblr media
RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
—Riddle was pining bad for you, and it was no secret to anyone except you. Who he did all he could to make you remain oblivious. Though if you knew that the fluffy little creature you found following you around was him? then it would be clear as day.
—Riddle had the power to turn into a cat, and well… what did he use it for? to follow you, and be by your side. The first time you coddled him, oh he was so embarrassed, swatting at you with his chipped claws and meowing. But after a couple times of you insistently holding him, then… he got comfortable. (Look at what you’ve done, now he expects it!)
—These catty behaviours and dynamic now transfers over to your active relationship (the one you know about.) If you don’t praise him for things he tries to impress then he gets all pouty haha.
“hey Riddle, you should come by one day to meet my cat, he’s a smart one.”
“hah,,, im actually allergic.” ^^’’’’
Tumblr media
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR 
—that lazy cat you took in? yeah thats leona. He’s not much of a pining person, but nonetheless he still wants your attention. He’s pretty obvious of his affections, you even know about his habit of turning into a cat! (he’s done it right in front of you?!) so the relationship is pretty much established.
—though regardless as a cat or not when he’s in his human form he still craves your body heat, moving to position his head on your lap, like as he lays when in cat form.
—he’s a spoiled prince, if you move him at all out of his previous spot then he’s petty about it. he’s not going to sit back over near you until he forgives you.
“You’re so much cuter in your cat form when you do this.”
“well too bad, i don’t feel like moving.”
Tumblr media
AZUL ASHENGROTTO
—he’s such a fucking mess around you its kinda cute. he trips over his words (and sometimes his feet), he bluescreens when you so much as praise him. He tries so hard to keep up his business persona, and it seems everyone but you, can see through it and notice the puddle he is.
—azul is much more… alive when he’s in his cat form. he’s always been kind of insecure of it, but its like a shell for him to hide him. he can be himself freely since you know, he’s a cat. So the cute silver coated cat that follows you? and swats at your feet when he wants your attention or praise? yeah thats azul
—Azul is far more whiny in his cat form lmao, though,,, he can be himself and he knows you’ll love him. he’s cute right? (he doesn’t know you’ll love him unconditionally in both forms) he uses it as a way to interact with you, and not worry about messing up or making a fool of himself. he simply soaks up your attention.
“Azul, do you perhaps have any cat food in stock?”
“no. i don’t, why?”
“Well theres this cute cat that stops by and i want to ensure he eats properly.”
“oh.” ///////
Tumblr media
JAMIL VIPER
—jamil loves his cat form. its a freedom from the chains of duty he’s bound by. freedom to wander and travel the streets without having to worry for someone to ask him something or bother him. Its a way for him to love you without having to worry about rejection.
—everyones aware cats are cute, right? well he’s aware and he uses it. he uses his cute little fur coat to get away with stuff, and he uses it too get your attention. When your talking to someone? oh it seems as if your brown cat over here is picking at your shoe because he wants you to pick him up!
—jamil definitely is able to separate his cat form and human one. but sometimes, he wishes to let these habits slip and for you to love him to his face. nonetheless, he’d much rather you not hate him because he kept secrets for too long.
“Jamil, you remind me a lot of this cat that stops by often.”
“Do I now? is it cute?”
Tumblr media
VIL SCHOENHEIT
—he doesn’t use his cat form a lot. if he has a problem or something he wants (you) he’s gonna confront it as himself. that doesn’t mean, that if you ask to see it he wouldn’t show you…
—vil, despite thinking otherwise does have catty habits that poke through. For example, he’ll straight up SCRATCH you with his long ass nails if you rub him the wrong way.
—he does actually get pretty flustered despite what you may think, if you coddle him in his cat form when he does transform. he’ll huff and flick you away, jumping off your lap and hiding on the window or something, but you can notice his ruffled fur (which means he’s flustered.)
“Vil, please show me your cat form, its so cute.” 🥺
“not right now, maybe later… i still have things to finish, that i can’t exactly do with paws.”
“fine.” 😔
Tumblr media
IDIA SHROUD
—idia LOVES his cat form. its such a shell from human interaction. he doesn’t need to speak, he doesn’t stutter, say the wrong thing, worry. its such a blessing. plus he’s so cute as a cat!!
—he definitely abuses this power, he uses it for almost every interaction you have. you don’t know that its idia of course. it shocks others that has seen the ‘stray’ cat in the halls that you’re the only one able to actually pet him, and hold him in his arms.
—when he gets home he absolutely crumbles, looking back at the day. and imagining it was him in his human form, rather then the mask of a cat… he can dream you love him forever right?
User101: hey idia i know you like cats! have you seen the stray at school at all?
Gloomysamurai: Ahah?! maybe, i don’t know depends on what it looks like haha??? WAIT YOU REMEMBERED?? DKDKDUEJNAL
Tumblr media
MALLEUS DRACONIA
—you definitely know the black cat you find often around your home is malleus. he doesn’t even keep it a secret, i mean he doesn’t say it outright either but . he’s so painfully obvious about it.
—he’s pretty similar in both forms. he acts similar to a cat in his human form too. pining for your attention, and trailing behind you like a lost puppy (or cat in this case). Don’t blame him for getting addicted to your company. He likes you a lot, you know?
—malleus isn’t subtle with his affections. pouting/meowing when he doesn’t have your attention. he’s still clingy as he is a cat even looking as an adult man. Malmal definitely also seeks your praise as if he’s a cat still.
“Malleus, i have work to do.” ^^’’’’’
“Can we just cuddle for a couple minutes..?” 🥺
2K notes · View notes
uplatterme · 1 year
Text
all out?
—sub!scara/dom!reader, amab!reader | office sex, exhibitionism
—not beta read so excuse some mistakes if there are any TT
honestly, scaramouche should have seen this coming.
he stares at his empty cabinet, dumbfounded that there’s nothing inside it. surely not…
the balladeer wants to scream. just his luck, that it happened today too, when there’s a meeting scheduled that he cannot skip.
“fuck.”
the harbinger walks through the chilling halls of the zapolyarny palace. the cold has never bothered him in any shape or form, yet today proves to be an exception.
there are lower-ranked fatui passing by, hastily running off, not wanting to meet his gaze. an action that he isn’t unfamiliar to.
he hisses and stops when a certain ginger blemishes his view.
“looks like someone’s having a bad day!” he greets.
for a moment there, scaramouche thinks that he’s caught red-handed. not until he realizes that the youngest harbinger couldn’t have possibly seen through his facade.
“you’re deafeningly loud.” he bites back, continuing his steps despite the aching in his lower half.
“ah, still the same as ever. not that im surprised.” he says, chuckling echoing through the halls.
“the meeting’s to start in a few, although the director and the overseer hasn’t arrived yet.” tartaglia informs.
he flushes at the mention of your title, the one behind this problem that he’s facing right now.
“hello?” he calls out.
“can you learn to shut up just at least once?!” he yells.
currently, he sits on the chair provided for him, next to pulcinella and sandrone. as long as he doesn’t get seated next to that blue-haired freak, he considers any situation to be pleasant.
the door opens with a slam and the rest of the harbingers bow their head as greeting. there you stand, that folder you always carry in your arms and a pen between your fingers.
that’s when the memories comes back to him.
flashes of each time you’ve ripped his underwear with those fingers of yours, the scene claws into his brain as he bows down his head in unison with the others.
it was fine the first time. it was only a one-time thing, after all.
oh, how naive he was thinking that.
he then realizes that it wasn’t a one-time thing, seeing as there’s none of them left in his cabinet, forced to attend this meeting with his cock slapping against his thigh each time he walks.
it’s embarrassing. he seethes at your voice, talking about some topic that he couldn’t give a shit about. he adores when your tone is like that, commanding and strict. the more you speak, the more the harbinger wants to cave in.
his cock presses hardly to his shorts, begging for any kind of attention. unfortunately, he’s forced to endure it. to sit there in agony while he stares at you, giving out orders.
oh, how he wishes that you bend him against the table right now.
he can see it visibly twitch from underneath his clothing. if you were to see this, what would you have done? scaramouche’s imagination runs wild, thinking of how you’d make him take your cock. overusing his body and milking him dry. a doll, whose only purpose is to serve you.
“balladeer?” he snaps back to reality, hearing you mention him.
he bites back a needy whine, feeling everyone’s attention now centered on him.
“yeah?” he spit out, his eyes meeting with yours.
“you’ll be sent off to a separate mission, is that all right with you?”
god, you could ask him to do anything and he’d agree.
“sure.”
when the meeting ends, his body was moving on its own, moving towards you to grab you and pinning you to the wall.
“you! you better take care of this!” he shouts.
you were confused at first but it didn’t take you long to see his cock fully outlined through his tight shorts.
“why should i? you’re the one who decided to attend this meeting like that.”
he groans. he does not have the time for any of your teasing right now.
“you kept tearing through—just, ugh!
fuck me already!”
his voice echoes throughout the room. he would have never expected this kind of situation to happen but he needed you so badly. he’s been hot and bothered ever since this morning.
he lets out a relieved groan once he feels his abdomen pressing on the table.
then, next comes the sound of his shorts being ripped apart. he would have complained about your tendency to tear through his clothes but all the complaints in his head goes away once he feels your fingers digging inside of him.
“hnngghh—fuck, finally. only thing you’re fucking good for—oh god!”
“shit, shit, shit!”
his face presses up on his hands, far too drunk as drool goes down his chin. he’s loving each movement inside of him, the satisfaction and pleasure you give are intoxicating him and he wants more.
his body squirms, his feet constantly misplacing themselves on the floor. his dick leaking precum as you stroke it at a pace, leaving him panting and breathing like a dog who had just gone for a run.
“look at you, all loose already…your body’s just made for fucking, isn’t it? always wanting to prove something when you can just show everybody how much of a cumdump you are.”
scara grunts at your insult (praise?), wanting to spit back something to defend himself. but his body is then shifted around, his back laying on the cold table as you took no time in penetrating his hole.
his mouth is left wide open by the stretch. it burns but god, he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the pain. the pain that would soon then transition into pleasure by each. single. thrust.
pounding into him mercilessly, his mouth being covered by his own mouth to desperately hide his cries from enjoying it too much, smiling underneath.
eventually, he just decides to let go. his hands reaching up to fondle his own chest, playing with his nipples while you shape him into your own cocksleeve, his leg up as you wanted better access into fucking him as much as you can.
scara’s so damn loud. of course, he doesn’t notice it. nor does he notice a certain redhead blushing needing to do a double take to see if he’s seeing the right thing.
“f-fill me up! fuck, please!”
“haaah—! more, more!”
after a while, those sentences are no longer coherent as he’s turned to just moaning and whimpering, slurring his words that you can barely understand.
the table is a cum-filled mess, his dick spurting out white as his eyes roll back the furthest they can into his head.
and yet, he doesn’t stop.
even better, he’s started to match your rhythm and grind himself onto you.
there’s a bit of a swelling in his belly from your cum and yet that isn’t seen as a blockade.
each thrust, your cum slipping out of him and back into him and the warm feeling of your stickiness is just enough to send him over the edge.
in the end, he’s left with a satisfied smile. laughing and chuckling while struggling to breathe, his walls aching and not sure if he wants more or to just stop moving for as long as he can.
one thing’s for sure though,
he’s completely forgotten that his shorts are torn apart.
2K notes · View notes
drunk-fantasies · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
+18 CONTENT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
🎨PAIRING: friend!sunghoon x fem!reader
🎨SYNOPSIS: posing for your best friend’s painting’s wasn’t something new for you or him until you asked if he could paint you naked
🎨GENRE: smut, fluff
🎨WARNINGS: explicit smut, both sunghoon and yn are kinda a perv, masturbation, oral (both receiving), fingering, handjob, marking, mild swearing, piv, protected sex
🎨WORD COUNT: 5,8k
🎨TAGLIST: @novacontreras, @beomgyusonlywife, @satan-223, @enhaz1, @tobiosbbyghorl, @kshoshi, @woniewonn, @mimizelle-luni, @meiskra, @leeheeheeseung, @parksunghoonsgf, @uuzhanggggggg, @deobitifull, @enhamysunshines, @sunghourly, @danielleismyname, @starggukies, @hellaboredd, @rapmonie2047, @asyleums, @stariszn, @tinkw1nks, @4imhry, @moonlighthoon, @girlwholovekpop, @19-yunalyn
There was something about you people found extraordinary. It could be your mesmerizing eyes, remarkable facial features or just that intense gaze that made many knees bend. Though you never really particularly enjoyed the attention you were getting, yet something was thrilling about intimidating people by just the way you looked at them. It gave you a sense of power, a feeling of being unstoppable wherever you went.
What you did enjoy though was how many students of the Art Department asked you to model for their paintings, offering you irrational money, just for you to stand in one place for a few hours. Those offers were always pretty tempting, but none were enough for you to agree. After a few chances you had given them you realized none of them were able to portray you good enough. Unlike Sunghoon, your best friend. Ever since you met him on the first day of uni, you couldn’t refuse anything he wanted. His paintings were terrific. His style, the way his brush strokes danced on canvas, not to mention he was able to capture your features in such a captivating way, just as good as your mirror could or maybe even better. The unspoken truth was, you wished so badly he looked at you like you looked at him. His gaze was always focused to paint you well, to mirror every strand of your hair perfectly just as every crinkle on your clothes. While you always stared at him with admiration and passion, under false colors of modeling. But when it came to him, nothing was an act. Your feelings burned inside you, fire spreading from your heart to every part of your body, whenever he scanned your face and position to guide you how to pose. He never failed to keep it professional, never touching you inappropriately or making you uncomfortable. And the way he was such a soft-spoken person made it even harder for you to not catch feelings. In contrast to initial shyness you noticed how kind his heart was. Despite his cold look and complete composure you were able to get to know his playful side, which outside of the Art Department’s studio continuously put a smile on your face, even during those hard days. Both of you were rather busy with their respective assignments and uni work, making it pretty impossible to meet regularly. But it only made you wait for the next time he would ask you to model for him even more eagerly.
Your phone buzzed with a notification. Finishing the last sentence of your essay you took your phone from your pocket and read a message from Sunghoon.
🤍: do you think you could be here a little earlier? i need to get something done and need to finish it by 7
you: no problem :) give me like ten minutes
You knew the way to the studio he always used to the point you could get there with your eyes closed. The excitement of seeing him again rushed through your body and you wondered how this recent work turned out. He never let you see the final product until he would be finished with it completely, to the last spot. You entered the studio not bothering to knock anymore and spotted Sunghoon preparing all the utensils he needed, apron already wrapped around his body while the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows. Not daring to say a word you watched him while he was too busy mixing paints to notice you. His black hair got a little longer, now almost falling on his shoulders, while he neatly picked the right colors.
“Y/n?” His voice brought you back to Earth. “Glad to see you. Your clothes are on the couch,” he smiled warmly and pointed to clothes you wore for this work.
Without a word you took them to get changed and couldn’t stop thinking about how it turned out. Last time he told you there was nothing much left, just some details of your neck area and some touch-up of your hair. That’s why with anticipation you waited to see the final result. You tried to recreate the hairstyle you had as precisely as you could in a reflection of a small bathroom mirror. When you came back to the studio he was fully ready to start.
“Ready?” he asked and raised from his stool.
Nodding you let him guide your pose in front of his easel. His fingers slightly raised your head by your chin and positioned your head as he pleased. Taking an alone strand of your hair, he curled it on his finger, imitating the shape from the last session. Fixing your shirt he took as step back to check and said: “Okay, you look perfect, it won’t take long.”
Two thoughts couldn’t leave your mind now: “Did he know what effect his words had on you?” and “Will he also capture the blush his compliment created?” It wasn’t hard to keep the pose he wanted you to remain as all your muscles tensed at his gaze and touch. Taking looks at you from time to time his hand created wonders on the canvas, just like always. Everything he painted looked even more beautiful than in reality. The most obscure sceneries or hideous faces were turned into the most fascinating and beautiful ones.
“Have you ever posed?” you asked suddenly, breaking the silence that surrounded you.
He never had anything against talking during your sessions, unless the conversations lasted for too long or were too engaging. For some unknown reason, this question almost made him drop his brush.
“What?” He chuckled and spoke after you repeated yourself. “I feel better on this side of the easel,” he said now more calmly.
How you wished he ever accepted anybody’s offer to portray him. Or for him to at least paint his self-portrait. Just like many asked you to model, he got this request quite as often. His features were delicate but still in a manly way. You adored looking at him just like he adored painting you, but none of you had the guts to ever admit to that, leaving many missing opportunities.
As much as you wanted to tell him how beautiful he truly is, your throat didn’t let the words out of your mind. You spent the rest of this session quiet, not daring to say anything else.
“Okay, I’m done,” he announced and you raised your eyes from the palette he held in his left hand. “Do you wanna see?”
“Can’t believe you’re still asking that question,” you said with a beam.
Taking his apron off, he stepped back and you admired yet another piece he created. Every was different and better in its own way, but this one was something else, capturing your features exhaustively.
“What do you think?” His voice was quiet, almost in a murmur that tickled your ear.
“It’s… beautiful. Can’t believe you could become any better, but you never fail to prove me otherwise.” He smiled at your compliment and stared at the fully covered portrait.
“I think it could use one more strand,” he suddenly said and held a brush in front of you.
Staring at it and then at him you took a step back in shock. “Have you lost your mind? I’m not a painter, I’m gonna ruin your work!”
“You’re not gonna ruin anything,” Sunghoon grinned.
He placed the brush in your hand, and held it gently yet firmly in his, while his other arm wrapped around your waist to bring you closer. Your mind went blank at sudden close proximity. You’ve never touched each other, apart from him when he guided you. And here you were, back pressed against his chest, feeling his breath hit your back while your palm was placed in his. With fully relaxed motion he painted a wavy lock just above your left cheek, enhancing your cheekbones.
“Now it’s perfect, don’t you think?” The nonchalant tone of his voice drove you crazy. Things you would let him do stood nowhere near his detachment.
“Yeah,” you managed to breath out at the loss of skin to skin contact with him.
“Thank you once more. Are you sure there’s no way I could repay you with?”
He always asked that question. And you always said you couldn’t take anything from him with a clear conscience, even though there was something in your mind he could do.
“I think I know,” you said before thinking about it.
“Oh? I’m listening then,” he was shocked at first but also eager to return a favor you’ve been giving him for a long time now.
Hesitating you finally said: “Paint me.” Your words made him frown and chuckle, but before he could argue you continued. “And I want to keep it. I want it for myself.”
Not sure if he will agree to this, you waited for his response.
“Okay, I will paint you. Can you come over to my place this weekend? I have all the stuff needed and it’s closer to your place than uni,” he suggested and you nodded, confirming the date and hour. “Okay then. I’ll see you on Saturday.”
You left him alone in the studio and he stared at the canvas for a while, wishing he could convey both your beauty and his feelings for you at least a little better.
Days passed and you seemed to not be able to think about anything else, Sunghoon occupying your mind for whole days. Mainly thoughts of his gentle touch on your waist and hand were replaying in your head. It drove you crazy, the way he had an affect on you, probably bereaved in obliviousness.
But you weren’t the only one going crazy at the moment. He tried to focus on his other paintings but his mind was full of you. His feelings for you were already deep and passionate, but the moment he felt your body that close to his, and how it perfectly fitted his number one priority was to make you satisfied with whatever painting you wanted.
But was that stupid portrait the only thing he wanted to satisfy you with?
Whenever you showed you how to pose he had to compose himself and his filthy thoughts of what he truly wanted to do with you at that moment. He wanted to bring you pleasure nobody would ever do, show you his feelings, his passion you ignited in him. But at the back of his head, he knew his dirty fantasies about you would only stay as fantasies. Because in no world a girl like you would spare a look at a guy like him. At least that’s what Sunghoon thought.
Frustrated at his loss of focus he untied his apron and threw it on the ground with a light thud. He looked at the canvas he tried to fill in with his ideas, but all the faces he tried to paint were yours. Every page in his sketchbook was dedicated to you. Even in his phone he had a seperate album of photos from your sessions, that he took under false pretenses to have a good reference. But his absolute favorite one was the one from the only time when you wore a dress. A tight one, to be precise. He didn’t choose it, all he said was for you to pick an outfit yourself and he regretted that decision almost as soon as you stepped into the studio. It was a tight black dress that showed all your curves off. It hugged your body so perfectly all he wanted was to tear it off it, to see it bare, with his own pair of eyes. But that fantasy remained as one, as he tried his best to stay calm and not let you know of the boner you caused. Keeping it professional he tried not to be obvious with his stare, only looking at your body when he really had to.
He watched that photo with a mind full of memories from that day, that were still alive and fresh, even though quite a long time passed already. Sighing he laid on his bed and helplessly reached to his pants where his dick was already hard like a rock. He pumped himself few times, now basically fucking his hand, while trying not to think about how beautiful you would look with your plump lips or feminine hand wrapped around it.
You on the other hand weren’t very different from him. Dirty thoughts and unfulfilled desires flooded your mind mercilessly. Fantasies of him were no longer satisfying, leaving you hungry for him and his body. Your fingers were deep inside you as you tried to imagine it was him pleasuring you, murmuring sweet and dirty things straight into your ear. But it was all your imagination, he wasn’t here to please you, and all he wanted was to repay you, nothing more. Of all the people, why did it have to be him that seemed to be completely uninterested in you? While all you could think about was to give him yourself, give him your body, let him use it as he wanted. Did he not see how crazy you are about him? Is he testing you?
Is he testing you?
The thought repeated in your head. You stopped pleasuring yourself at the confusion about that one sentence. Maybe he was, but how about now testing him?
You thought for a long time about how to test him and his true feelings for you, but nothing seemed to be rational. You knew that your Saturday’s session would be a great opportunity but how to use it for your own good? You already tried posing in a tight and seductive dress, yet it completely left him unfazed, sparing you only a few glances while taking care of the canvas. It truly broke your heart, the thought of him being completely unattracted to you while you would go on your knees for him.
One last thing you could do was a completely crazy idea you had already thought about, but at the same time seemed like the only option, which was posing completely naked. Being totally nude in front of anybody was a huge deal for you, even though you fantasized about him devouring you in your own glory. But the thing was, you couldn’t expect what his reaction would be. What if he wouldn’t like it at all and would refuse? What if he would laugh at you and your desperation? All those scenarios scared you to your core and almost sent shivers down your spine. But the worst one would probably be him just doing his job and not questioning anything, just doing his job as coldly as always.
Sunghoon waited for you impatiently, though he didn’t have any expectations for today. At least that’s what he tried to convince himself about. After he prepared his easel as well as canvas, he went to the bathroom to check his hair once more and reapply new perfume, hoping you would like it. He even washed his apron so that not even a hint of deepest paint stains were visible on the material. He rolled up his sleeves and went to the studio he arranged in his apartment. It wasn’t big, but rather small and cozy. And the view that spread outside the big window many times was his main inspiration. Or maybe it was until he met you and painted you for the first time?
His mind started wondering why would you want your portrait just for yourself. He wasn’t blind, it wasn’t only him who was obsessed with you and he knew for sure you were well aware of your looks. But at the same time you weren't a selfish person, but rather timid and humble enough to not take compliments that well. That’s what truly made him so drawn towards you. Noticing how everybody wanted you for your looks made him look at you rather shallowly at first. Thinking he had a brush with a girl of a vain heart his surprise was pretty huge when he got to know you. Never had he met such a sweet soul like you. Doubts about your vainglory vanished with almost the same moment you had let him paint you, making you his favorite and practically only subject to portray. Ever since he looked at you like the most precious creature, that wasn’t able to hurt anybody or queen over others. Then why all of the sudden you wanted a portrait of yourself? Was it really for you, or for somebody else?
With a mind preoccupied with concerns and nervousness he prayed you wouldn’t wear anything too revealing. His thoughts were resolved as soon as he saw you. Opening the door for you he noticed your neat and pretty demure choice of clothing, consisting just of a shirt and a pair of jeans. His gaze fell on your exposed neck wrapped by uncontrived necklace and collarbones that protruded through your skin proudly.
“Will you let me in?” you asked, noticing him zoning out yet again. Coming back to reality he smiled warmly, eyes glued to yours. He welcomed you with a gesture and you took off your shoes.
Even though you knew each other for quite a long time now you never visited him at home. Being his introverted self he always stated that his apartment was his sanctuary, his oasis where he didn’t like having visitors at. That’s why you were extremely honored when he suggested meeting at his place.
„Would you like to drink something?” he asked and went behind the kitchen island to take a glass for him and potentially you.
“Water please,” you said and enjoyed the view of his back facing you.
His broad shoulders were enhanced by his slim waist that had an apron wrapped around it. His hair perfect as always, seemed a little shorter than last time you saw him. You wondered whether dropping a bomb would be better than waiting, but what would you even wait for, honestly? You knew what you wanted by now, all those days of thinking only about this day made you sure you wanted to expose yourself to him, both emotionally and physically.
Finally turning around he handed you your drink and watched you drink it.
‘Do you have any concept in mind? Any color palette you want the work to be in? Or do you want me to suggest something?” he asked, leaning on the kitchen island looking at you.
It’s now or never.
“Actually I do have some idea,” you said and tilted your head, creating a moment of suffocating suspense.
“Oh? Well, I’m listening, I wonder what you came up with.” With arms crossed on his chest he straightened his back. He showed you to his studio, and if not for what you had planned to say you would pay more attention to.
“For the color palette I was thinking nude,” you said a little too quickly.
He frowned slightly and observed your clothing. “Okay, but do you have something to change into? The colors of your outfit wouldn’t really suit the nude coloring.”
“Kind of…” Your gaze trailed off to the dried up paint stains on the easel and a mat that covered the wooden floor.
“What do you mean by ‘kind of’?” he chuckled.
“I can do this,” you thought to yourself, closing your eyes for a moment.
You turned around to face him. You stepped as close as your feet let you, almost as close as the last time when he held you. To your surprise he didn’t take any steps back, but looked at you from above, a faint smile still decorating his face. Your eyes traveled from his eyes to neck and his lips, only to finally whisper: “I want you to paint me naked.”
Waiting for his reaction you noticed how his smile slowly faded away.
“Okay,” he simply answered, his calm voice piercing your heart like a dagger. “I’ll prepare the base while you get ready,” he said, already taking care of the new canvas and mixing the right colors.
You watched his back as he silently prepared his utensils. Is this it?
With a completely unbothered expression he turned around after what seemed like eternity.
“Aren’t you going to get undressed?” he asked, pointing to your body with his brush.
“No.”
“I thought…”
“I came here because you wanted to repay me, right? Do your job fully Sunghoon and worry not only about preparing your stupid canvas but focus on preparing me,” you spat, knowing it sounded a little bit too harsh.
He came closer to you with his head tilted, with thought that maybe his deepest fantasies were shared with you. Your gaze screamed just one thing and he couldn’t believe he finally realized that they were saying the same thing for a while now. What a waste of time.
“What do you want me to do, Y/n?” He brushed your hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear softly.
“Undress me. Paint on my body, mark me before eternalizing me on your painting.” Your voice got weaker and weaker as his face got closer with each of your words.
“Is this the only thing you want me to do?” he asked quietly, his lips ghosting yours with a faint brush.
“Love me Sunghoon,” you breathed out.
Instead of pulling you in such a desired kiss, he pulled away taking almost a full picture of your form. His hands firmly placed on your waist slowly traveled up to the buttons of your shirt to painfully slowly unbutton them. Your eyes never left his, getting lost in their depth, while he was focused on devouring the moment he wished to last forever. Soon he gently let it fall down on the floor, leaving you in your bra.
“You’re so gorgoeus, Y/n,” he whispered just above your ear.
“Show me, show me how beautiful you think I am,” you demanded.
His eyes darkened and he started taking steps forward while you backed away. You hissed at the feeling of a cold wall hitting your sensitive skin but soon his hot breath warmed you up. His hand once again got a hold of your waist and he raised your head by your chin with the other. You looked not only beautiful, but vulnerable and desperate for his lips to finally fall on yours. Sunghoon couldn’t stop himself anymore, connecting you in a slow and sensual kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck bringing him closer and he cupped your cheek endearingly. The tension in the air made it impossible for you not to melt in his electrifying touch. The kiss started to get heavier, as he started sucking on your lip. Taking a cue of him brushing his tongue against your skin you parted your lips. Not wasting time he pushed his muscle in you and you almost moaned at the anticipation. His hand guided your head as he pleased and like a docile doll you let him do whatever he wanted.
He tapped your thigh and you wrapped them around his waist. Holding your body in his arms he left the studio, the main reason for your visit long forgotten as now his steps were taking you to his bedroom. Gently placing you on his mattress he broke the kiss to leave wet marks along your neck and collarbones, earning a breathy whine from you. Rubbing his back continuously you felt how wetness formed inside of your panties. Sunghoon groped your breasts firmly, giving them a good squeeze before you helped him take your bra off by raising your upper body. He let your tits free but not long after his lips attached to one of your nipples, while his fingers pinched the other one. Tangling your fingers in his thick locks you threw your head back in pleasure his tongue was giving you.
“Sunghoon,” you moaned, making his dick get even harder. Groaning he continued marking you, just like you wanted him to, preparing you for a portrait in colors of nude and purpure.
His fingers rested on your abdomen and traveled down to the waistband of your pants but you pulled him up to feel the warmth of his lips on your one more time, already drunk by the way they sucked on yours. You tucked on the first button of his shirt and he gave you a small nod, letting you undress him. He raised and took it off, revealing his defined muscles and slightly shiny skin.
“Done staring?” he chuckled.
“You’re beautiful, Sunghoon,” you blurted out, still admiring his whole manly silhouette.
Smiling at your compliment he hovered over you, lips brushing yours with no intention of kissing you. Instead he got lower and lower, not breaking eye contact with you, driving you completely crazy. He unbuckled your belt and unzipped your pants. Raising your hips you let him take them off along with your completely drenched underwear. He smirked noticing how desperate you were at your core, making you cover your face with your palms in slight embarrassment. Later you got to know it wasn’t a good idea, as he took you by surprise by licking a long stripe from your whole to sensitive clit. Arching your back, your hand found his head, pulling his hair in pleasure.
His tongue did wonders on your folds and you couldn’t contain your moans anymore, chanting his name like the most powerful spell. The way your voice cracked in whines of bliss he was causing, made him want to waste no time and just pull his pants off to fuck you, so that you would scream his name instead. But his number one priority was to give you the best experience you could think of, savoring your skin inch by inch, taking his time with you. Hugging your thighs he placed them on his shoulders, bringing you closer at the same time. Your taste on his tongue made him lose his eyes as he detached his lips from your pussy, only to wet his fingers.
Watching the scene unfold in front of you, your head once again fell backwards, knowing what to expect next. His finger slowly entered your hole, curling inside at the perfect angle. You let out a choked moan at the sensation of his finger inside you and his lips sucking on your clit. He started pumping his digit in and out of you at a moderate pace, that already left you breathless. Just when he added another finger and increased the speed of his pumps you felt how close you were.
“I’m so close.” You squirmed under his touch and he kept his tempo and intensity of his sucking. Pulling on his hair harder you felt vibrations from his groan and soon released around his fingers. He pumped them a few more times before pulling them out and ostentatiously licking them clean. Breathing heavily you covered your face, knowing that after all of those moans and other sounds you produced your skin would be red from intense blush.
Sunghoon waited for you to calm down and couldn’t stop wondering if this was all you came here for. Even if you did, he was completely fine with that, pleasuring you was something he dreamed of after all. But to prove his concerns wrong you managed to calm down a bit and pointed to the edge of his bed. “Sit,” you ordered, not caring about your tone anymore, urge and desperation to give him your head bigger than your exhaustion.
With slight hesitation and confusion he sat and with slightly parted lips watched as you kneeled in between his thighs, adding to the hardness of his cock. With your eyes glued to his, you ran your palms up and down his legs, getting dangerously close to his crotch with every stroke. His chest raised and his breath hitched as your fingers delicately brushed on his length, feeling how desperation grew inside his boxers. Unbuckling his belt and undoing the buttons of his pants you pulled them down, so they rested near his ankles. His boxers were already full, begging to be discharged but feeling quite in the mood for some teasing you slowly palmed him through thin material. With his mouth still slightly opened he watched as you started leaving chaste pecks on his clothed dick.
Though your teasing didn’t last long as you couldn’t wait to feel him just like he did. Hooking your fingers on the waistband of his underwear you pulled them off and now they joined his pants on the ground. Trying not to stare too much at him you left a few long kisses on his reddened tip still rubbing his muscles. You swallowed it and sucked, earning his head falling backwards. His hand landed on the back of your head and he slightly pushed you down. Without further ado you sank on him fully, hollowing your cheeks for double pleasure. Your nose pressed against his pelvis you gagged around him and cookwarmed him for a while, his hand now only for decoration, as it didn’t apply no pressure. His eyes rolled back when you finally bobbed your head vigorously, eager to get as much reaction from him as he did from you. And he had no intention of disappointing you. His low moans and groans soon filled the room and bounced like your head did on his shaft.
“Shit, I’m not gonna last long, baby,” he admitted though no hint of embarrassment was audible in his voice. Keeping your rhythm you waited patiently to swallow his hot load and bob your head a few more times to ride his high.
He leaned on his hands and heaved a sigh of content, with a genuine grin. Resting your head on his thigh with closed eyes you felt how he cupped your cheek and rubbed your skin softly. Looking up at him you noticed his smile. It wasn’t cocky, nor fake, but full of emotions he felt he held in for too long now. Patting his lap he invited you to sit there. You climbed there from the floor with his help and soon you were wrapped securely in his strong arms. None of you spoke, at least not yet, only looking for answers in each other’s eyes, in complete silence. Both your chests raised and lowered in heavy breaths, too scared to say something. His touch was just like that day in the studio, when he held you close to himself. It said what he was scared to say for this whole time he knew you. If only you realized his feelings sooner you wouldn’t waste time to test him. You remembered all those sessions you admired him and wondered if he did the same while you weren’t looking.
“Y/n?” Sunghoon called your name and you looked at him more attentively. You noticed how he struggled to put his thoughts into words so you interrupted him.
“Sunghoon, I love you. For the longest time now. And it’s okay if you don’t,” you said, hoping and knowing at the back of your mind that his answer is going to satisfy you.
“After what had just happened you still have some hesitancy about it?” He revealed his teeth in a chuckle.
Leaning in, you connected your lips once again, linking them together in a slow and passionate kiss. Not controlling your movements anymore and letting your emotions and feelings take a lead, your hands traveled all along his back and abs, while he just made sure you’re not shifting too much on him. But soon his control was taken over by his desire. Flipping you around he laid you on your back and you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer. He groaned lowly against your lips as soon as his tip brushed against your hot and still wet core.
“Do you have condoms?” you asked bluntly, breaking the kiss.
Nodding he reached to the drawer of his nightstand. Rolling it on his length he positioned himself between your legs looking straight into your eyes.
“Are you sure?” he asked, looking for any sign of hesitation from you, but you nodded your head surely.
“I want you so bad,” you let out a whiny whisper.
And who he is to deny you the pleasure when you ask him so politely, while he lusted after you probably a lot more.
Pushing himself into your hole, you dug your nails into his skin, and he hissed at both the feeling of your walls around him and you scratching his back. Your eyes rolled back once he started thrusting into you, at a moderate pace. Lips brushing against each other, not daring to look at each other. Instead he buried his face into your neck, leaving a few sticky kisses on your favorite spots.
“Faster, please,” you whined and momentarily he picked up the pace but soon you asked once again.
“Then help me a bit and go on all fours for me, baby,” he whispered to your ear and pulled away to face you.
With shaky legs you moved obediently to the position he asked you to and moaned when you felt him entering you a little bit more harshly this time. Getting a firm grip on your waist he controlled your movements and thrusted much faster and deeper, reaching the spot he couldn’t with his fingers before. Not being able to hold your balance on your hands anymore you fell on his pillows, ass still high. He threw his head back at the sight of your arched back and asscheeks bouncing with his every thrust. His bedroom soon was filled with your moans, his groans and the sound of his balls slapping your clit.
All yours and his desires coming true, the painting got long forgotten, much important stuff occupying your minds.
The immense pleasure made you feel dizzy, clenching around him from time to time.
“If you don’t stop clenching around me, I’m not gonna last long,” he panted, trying to keep the high pace.
“I’m gonna cum too,” you moaned with a shaky voice.
Feeling the familiar knot in your stomach you released around him as his cum filled the condom. With last thrusts he pulled out and watched how you collapsed fully, hair completely messy, just like your breathing. He laid next to you, trying to catch his breath, looking at you from time to time. Turning around, your eyes met. He opened his arms invitingly and you nestled up to him with a beaming smile. His warmed-up skin, breath fanning your face and a few loving pecks on your forehead made you feel like you could fall asleep here and there. And just before you dozed off, you heard how he whispered straight to your ear: “I love you, my forever muse.”
a/n thank you for reading! it’s my first longer fic on this blog so let me know what you think!
1K notes · View notes
pix3lplays · 3 months
Text
@sailorstar9 who hit me with “ex-husband Aventurine trying to woo you back from Ratio” because yes
And @fire-lizard-ro because they put up with me talking about this all the time lol-
Cw! Ex-husband Aventurine, you have kids with him, I’m thinking two, you’re divorced for a reason, Aventurine is petty and wants you back, reader is with Ratio now, also neither of these men are great partners so…toxic family environments and such, sharing a bed
-Ex-husband Aventurine stuff because ugh I’m obsessed-
Does Veritas Ratio treat you much better than Aventurine did? Not really, but he was definitely preferable to your ex.
At least Veritas didn’t have a chronic gambling problem or ignores the kids or spends long nights away from home doing who KNOWS what.
At first Aventurine acts like he doesn’t care at all that you’ve finally had enough and had to divorce him. Your loss in his eyes. He’ll live without you.
But if it doesn’t bother him that much you do wonder why he goes to such lengths to show off his new partners to you. And it always seems to be someone new each month. Unsurprisingly. Makes sense that you were the only person who could put up with him long enough to marry him.
But when he finds out you’ve found a new boyfriend…and it’s VERITAS RATIO?? The jealousy is THERE, and honestly you can see it written all over Aventurine, regardless of how he acts around you.
So now you’re living at Veritas Ratio’s nice place, with your kids from your marriage to Aventurine. You like Veritas. They’re not his kids, but he takes an interest in their education and helping them be the best versions of themselves. He helps them with their homework, without just giving them the answers…yeah he’s not affectionate with your kids, they’re not his, but he doesn’t ignore them like Aventurine used to.
It’s ALWAYS awkward when Aventurine stops by to pick up or see his kids. He always brings presents, always does what he can to make it look like he’s suddenly an amazing and attentive dad, but you know he’s only doing it to try and impress and win you back.
Without shame too-he flirts with you RIGHT in front of Veritas. But Veritas has heard your stories about Aventurine. He’s not worried about you going back to him.
Veritas will just listen to the flirting, maybe step in with a little, “isn’t it about time you leave?” if Aventurine is going too far.
The tension between your ex and your boyfriend is INTENSE.
And by that I mean Aventurine feels very threatened by Veritas, and Veritas doesn’t feel threatened by Aventurine at all. It’s kind of like a one sided rivalry.
Also Aventurine absolutely does that thing where he conveniently leaves his sunglasses at your place so he has an excuse to come back, but you’ve learned to foil him by letting Veritas give him the sunglasses back at the door-just imagine how disappointed Aventurine is when it’s Veritas answering the door instead of you haha…
He calls you in the evening under the guise of “oh don’t you want to say goodnight to the kids?” but he ALWAYS tries to keep you on the phone after that. Just hang up on him. If it was up to Veritas you would just block his number but he understands that’s not practical.
Aventurine would try to use the kids to win you back but to be honest?? They don’t miss him that much. Honestly they prefer Veritas as their new ‘dad’. (Plus they’re gonna wish Veritas was actually their dad when they start getting bullied for being part Sigonian. Just sayin-)
Aventurine is jealous jealous JEALOUS he hates the thought of Veritas even touching you let alone the fact that you share a bed with that man…it drives him CRAZY. He’s not married to you he has No claim over you so he has no business being so jealous but he is anyways…
Eventually he’s not even subtle about how badly he wants you back. Just blatantly inviting you to dinner or over to wherever the heck he’s staying at the moment or to the casino to help you de-stress from all that time spent around Ratio-surely being around Ratio THAT much isn’t good for your health~
Of course you’re not falling for that. You’re not letting Aventurine back into your life more than you have to.
You really don’t want Veritas to feel like he has to get involved, but he has his pride. He can only handle Aventurine blatantly flirting with his partner for so long.
So far you’ve avoided a confrontation but Aventurine needs to start treading lightly if he doesn’t want a Codex to his face haha…
581 notes · View notes
himehomu · 7 months
Text
With Walpurgisnacht Rising coming in 2024, I want to talk about something that has been bothering me since Rebellion. It was never the “plot twist” of Homura separating Madoka from her godhood nor her taking those godlike powers for herself thus becoming the devil. It was always people's reactions to Homura doing this and the way they based her entire character around this specific moment that really rubbed me the wrong way. Saying she's a selfish monster who's trapping Madoka in a fake world for her own personal gain or that she's taking Madoka's agency away from her and making decisions for her that directly rebel against what Madoka wants... And, to that, I just want to know.... do literally any of you know what Madoka actually wants or are you just basing her character around her sacrifice?
Yes, it was for the benefit of all Magical Girls and yes it freed them from their cycle of selling their souls in the name of hope just to die at the hands of their own grief and despair, but Madoka didn't plan to abruptly cease to exist at the cost of it?? She didn't want to be stuck between life and death only existing as a deity meant to eradicate Witches for all of time. Madoka wished to erase Witches before they are born from the past, present, and future. Going back years upon years in time, destroying Witches and mercy killing Magical Girls; fighting forever, past and future, for all time. Ceasing to exist as an individual, only able to materialize and interact with someone when they're dying of grief and sadness and pain; relieving them of that pain so that their last moments won't be in agony, so they can die in peace, but there's none of that for Madoka. There's no death, no closure, no release, no freedom from this hell of being a weapon and nothing more.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
But, Madoka would never voice these struggles and frustrations. Because Madoka isn't that kind of girl. She's the kind of girl who shoves all of her problems down and bases all of her self worth on how much she can do for others, how happy she can make others, and how useful she can be. She forces a smile and masks her pain because she doesn't want to burden anyone with her problems. She puts herself down constantly, risking her life trying to help others because she cares so little for herself. Without being useful, she believes her life has no value. And Homura knows this. Because Homura knows her. I feel like most people take Madoka's bright pink colors and smile at face value and don't realize she's chronically depressed. That's why in the first timeline, she and Homura naturally got along so well: they were both girls who hated themselves and based their self worth on how they made others around them feel, both self-loathing girls who deem themselves worthless if they're not useful in some way. Madoka was just better at hiding it than Homura was. And she still is by the 100th loop.
But, in Rebellion, when her memories of being a god are taken away from her, and she's given a hypothetical scenario of her fate, she says "wow that sounds awful and scary and lonely and I would never do something like that." The Flower Field scene is one of the most brilliant and misunderstood scenes in all of anime. Majority still to this day argue that, since Madoka doesn't have her memories, her words hold little to no weight, and Homura is simply hearing what she wants to hear. So, naturally, they disregard what Madoka is saying, assuming it's just Homura being selfish. And that's where they mess up. Because, the fact that Madoka doesn't have her memories here is the whole point! Homura is already well-aware that if Madoka had her memories, her self loathing would result in her caring so little for herself that she sacrifices herself every time which is why immediately after Madoka's words, she assures Madoka that she is indeed "strong enough to make that decision." Homura just wanted to confirm if Madoka would still miss her life pre-godhood in spite of that, which she outright says she does.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
There are also arguments that Homura was somehow influencing Madoka in the labyrinth aside from just not remembering becoming a god, but Shinbou already stated in an interview that this wasn't the case, and that these were Madoka's honest words. In fact, Madoka's true feelings regarding her godhood are revealed for the first time within the lyrics of Madoka's character song (sung by her VA Aoi Yuuki) that played as the ep 1-2 ED titled “Mata Ashita”. The song is about Madoka post-series which consists of Madoka wandering around aimlessly, quietly observing as humanity resumes without her, lamenting on the life she lost after becoming a god and wishing she could have been more honest about her feelings to Homura in ep 12, asking her to realize she's lonely.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
[I'm pretending that I'm used to being alone, but I'm not really that strong.
The scenery is the same as always, the city is the same as always.
Even though I think everything will stay unchanged.
I still feel like I'm the only one who's tiny. Instead of "See you later."
I should've said, "I'll stay for a little longer."
I wanted and hoped that you would realize it.
But with the words "See you later,"
I lie to myself again.
And hide my true feelings beneath my usual smile. Saying, "See you later," I wave my hand.
Cracking a smile, yet I'm feeling lonely.
The truth is, I still have more to talk about.
But even my voice saying, "See you later"
is so near yet far from you that it can't reach you.
So let me say this like I always do, just once more: "See you tomorrow"]
This is definitive proof that even BEFORE Rebellion, this was already confirmed to be Madoka's true feelings.
The second time Madoka's true feelings post-godhood are adressed is via Madoka and Homura's concept movie quotes explaining that the God (Madoka) is clearly suffering in her “heaven”, which is more like a prison of isolation. The lizard girl (Homura) takes pity on her and separates her humanity from her godhood, thus making her human once more. Here are also some direct quotes from Magia Record which provides even more context for what Madokami is experiencing:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
All of this, with the addition of Madoka's words in the Flower Field scene being confirmed to be her real and honest feelings, puts the whole “pulling madokami down from heaven” scene into a different perspective. Considering the entire reason why Madoka even became powerful enough to become God in the first place was because Homura's 100+ time loops linked multiple parallel universes together with Madoka at their center, and it's confirmed Madoka was suffering as a god, I would think people would be happy to see Homura reverting Madoka back to a human being and rewriting the entire universe to be a world where Madoka is happy and free, surrounded by her friends and family???
The fact that Homura's love for Madoka was so strong throughout 12 years of 100+ time loops, it turned Madoka into a goddess but when Homura was able to see just how isolating and lonely godhood was for her, she took her godlike powers for herself because she loved her and was willing to take on the exhaustion and isolation of immortality as the devil to spare her of anymore pain and sadness. Homura freed Madoka from a nonexistential purgatory prison and a decade later she's still demonized for it, how insane is that??
659 notes · View notes
imaginedanvrs · 4 months
Text
can't quit you
dom!power bottom!natasha x sub!service top!reader
warnings: toxic dynamic, degrading, oral (r giving and receiving), fingering (r giving and receiving), mommy kink, strap on (r giving), bondage, wax play, temperature play, praise
word count: 4.2k
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Do you want to stay for a while? I'm making pasta tonight,” you told the redhead as you watched her slip her bra back on.
“I've got plans,” Natasha replied without sparing you a glance. You bit your lip and nodded even though she couldn't see you, feeling the familiar disappointment bring about a pang in your chest. You were used to the spy coming over to hook up and leaving immediately after, but everytime you fooled yourself into believing that maybe she would enjoy your company beyond sex for once. You never said anything to Natasha, knowing that your absence of any persistence was what kept her coming back. She didn't have time for relationships and she certainly didn't have time for anyone needy. But you couldn't say the same for yourself and you couldn't continue to endure the ache that Natasha brought to your life.
“I don't think we should do this anymore,” you declared. Natasha looked at you with a raised brow as she pulled her jeans up, seeming sceptical of your announcement.
“Why?” She asked plainly, certainly not appearing bothered. You wished she was.
“You know why,” you countered. She didn't respond as she stared at you. “I want a relationship. I know I won't get one with you so I want to focus on other people who do,” you told her.
“Like who?” She pushed.
“I don't know yet,” you admitted. Natasha hummed with a small smile, as though she wasn't buying a word of what you said. “I'm serious, Nat” you insisted but it was clear that wasn't going through when the redhead grabbed her phone and keys.
“I'll see you around, detka,” she called over her shoulder as she sauntered across your studio apartment like it was her own home.
“No you won't!” You tried to call back but the heavy slam of the door cut you off. You huffed and lay back in the messy bed, glancing at the space next to you where Natasha had been laying just ten minutes prior.
*
You had blocked and deleted Natasha’s number so that you wouldn't be tempted to contact her again. You meant every word of what you said to her the last time you met but that didn't ensure you had the willpower to follow through. You hadn't met many people in the cold winter months that followed, unable to stop comparing them to a certain redhead. None of their eyes held the same overwhelming intensity as hers. None of their lips promised sinful highs from just one brief touch. None of their hips held that same hypnotising sway when they knew you were watching. It was unfair to place those kinds of comparisons on them,especially as they were all far more genuine and interested as Natasha had ever been. Perhaps that was the problem.
It was late on a Saturday evening when you heard a knock on your door. You had decided to have a night to yourself to finally assemble a lego kit you had bought the week before, but it seemed it would have to wait a little longer.
When you opened your door, you froze at the sight of Natasha in your hallway. She was dressed up in what you could only assume was the attire for Stark’s latest party she must have ditched. It wouldn't be the first time she had done it to come and see you.
“Miss me?” Natasha asked with a knowing smirk when your eyes took in how short the crimson red dress fell. You wanted to deny it, but lying to a spy was futile.
“I missed you,” she told you, voice low in a way you had heard countless times and had never been able to walk away from. She took a step forward and your eyes snapped to hers. You could never fight the spell they cast over you either, not that you wanted to.
“You shouldn't be here,” you reminded yourself more than her. She tilted her head slightly, her smirk unwavering as your resolve crumbled in front of her.
“But we're both glad I am,” she pointed out as you suddenly felt her hand grip your own with an assertive gentleness. Natasha guided it towards her and you let her, enchanted as you watched your own hand disappear under the fabric. The pads of your fingers skimmed across her soft thighs as she led you higher until you were met with damp lace. You exhaled shakily, finally moving your digits by your own will to stroke her covered cunt that clenched at your barricaded touch.
One soft moan from Natasha was all it took for you to pull her in by the waist and slam the door behind her as you pressed the redhead up against the wall and let your lips re-familiarise themselves. She grinned in triumph against you and you happily surrendered the price for a taste of Natasha that you could've sworn was intoxicating.
You pushed your thigh between hers and felt her buck down on it instantly. You grabbed her thighs to encourage her to grind, hoping to see a wet patch on your sweatpants when you were done. Natasha moaned again and you took the opportunity to let your tongue swipe across hers.
To your surprise, she pulled away and forced you straight to your knees. You opened your mouth to object but Natasha grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled your head back to look up at her. “You're not in charge here,” she reminded you. You struggled to nod in her grip.
“I'm sorry,” You whispered, tears brimming from the sting.
“Show me,” she ordered, guiding your head to where she needed you most whilst she pulled down her ruined underwear. You breathed in the redhead’s scent as she did so, squirming where you knelt in desperation to have her in your mouth. You barely had to wait, Natasha’s just rivalling your own.
You moaned in synchronised relief when your tongue was finally flat against Natasha's cunt. Faintly registering the dull thud of the Russian’s head dropping against the wall, you gripped her thighs as a means to anchor yourself to Natasha and ate her out like you starved. Of her, you had.
“Fuck, this is what you're made for, detka, and it's all for me,” she reminded you with a particularly harsh pull on your hair. You mumbled an agreement as you sunk your tongue into her, eager to savour as much of the dangerous woman as you could.
“You can fuck those other sluts all you want, malysh, I know you'll never be this drunk in their pussies.” You groaned, your stomach flipping at Natasha’s well placed arrogance when she told you what you already knew. “Give me your fingers,” she ordered and you complied.
To Natasha’s displeasure, you pulled away as you brought your fingers up to spread her folds, though the redhead held off protesting when she realised you just wanted to watch your fingers sink into her. She watched on with flushed features as you bit your lip and pushed two fingers in with a soft groan. Her warmth wrapped around you in a welcoming embrace, throbbing and twitching as you pushed your digits knuckle deep.
“Good fucking girl,” Natasha sighed. You snapped your gaze to the steady rise and fall of Natasha's chest where one of her hands had slipped under her dress to play with her breasts. You felt yourself ache as your eyes met and Natasha used her free hand to return your mouth to her.
You allowed her to manoeuvre your body as she pleased, finding it all too easy to follow her authority and let her use you for her own pleasure, a dynamic that seemed to serve you both well. You pumped your fingers steadily inside of Natasha as your lips wrapped around her hardened clit that pulsed in your mouth as though it had a heartbeat of its own. The spy bucked her hips into your fave at the action as she swore in Russian You smiled and curled your fingers towards yourself, caressing that sweet spot that made Natasha’s thighs tightened around your head.
“Such an obedient fucktoy,” Natasha seemed to mumble to herself more than you as she watched you fuck her with purpose, as though it was your sole mission. To be fair, that was about right. Natasha had continued to plague your thoughts in her absence. Images of her naked body beneath yours and the heavenly sound of her cumming played constantly through your days as you ached to have another fix of the redhead. And now you were getting it, you weren't about to make it quick. Though you were desperate to feel her cum, you took your time with the spy, wanting to make her orgasm all the better until she finally snapped and demanded it. You would never deny her.
You curled and pumped your fingers at a steady pace, slowing down everytime the redhead’s breathing became too erratic. You'd sooth her frustrations by flattening your tongue on her clit or sucking the throbbing bud gently. But Natasha wouldn't let you withhold from her for much longer.
“Come on, detka, show me how much you've missed me and make me cum. Mommy wants to soak your pretty face,” she told you with a short breath.
You took her in your mouth and pushed a third finger in with little resistance. The spy was wet enough to allow you to surpass her tightness and stretch her soft walls that clung to you. You thrust them fast, deep and with a perfect rhythm that had Natasha’s head spinning wildly.
“That's it…yes! Fuck,” Natasha moaned came, your name spilling over her lips as she gripped the back of your head and grinded herself on your mouth and fingers to ease herself down from her blinding high. Her grip remained tight when she steadied herself against the wall and gazed down at you with such a blissed expression that you couldn't help but flex your fingers inside her once more.
“Greedy thing,” Natasha tutted as she pushed you away. A whine escaped your lips before you could stop it and the redhead gave you a fake pout. She swiped at the wetness on your chin with her thumb and pushed it past your lips, watching with bemusement as you hummed.
“Go put on the harness and lay on the bed,” She told you as she took her thumb away. You scrambled to your feet at the idea and made a b-line for your chest of drawers. “And strip,” she added. You did as she said as quickly as you could, only turning around when you heard Natasha searching through your bedside drawer.
You lay down just as the spy retrieved her favourite dildo you owned, the maroon one that was on the larger size. You throbbed at the thought of getting to see her take it again and attached it swiftly as Natasha let her dress pool on the floor and climbed on top of you, a small smirk playing on her lip as she took in your form.
Her soft hands wandered down your exposed stomach several times, enjoying you shuddering under her touch. In moments like that, when everything she did felt so precise and controlled, you were reminded that you were in bed with a former assassin. She was ruthless and unimaginably deadly, and yet you wanted nothing more than to see her take your strap.
Natasha spat in her hand as she sat on your knee, letting you feel how wet she still was, and brought it down to the dildo to slowly spread it. Your breathing became shaky as you wanted on, feeling the base of the toy rub painfully against your clit.
“Fuck, mommy, let me fuck you. Please,” you begged as the friction built, though not being able to fuck the woman above you was what caused you the most distress.
“Soon, dove,” Natasha chuckled, getting onto her knees to hover over the toy. Your hands immediately fell to her hips but the redhead smacked them away. “Look, don't touch,” she chided.
“But-”
“Be good,” she warned and you fell silent, bunching up the duvet next to you instead.
You were caught in a trance the moment your cock grazed Natasha’s cunt, spreading her lips apart as she gripped the base and eventually sunk down on the head. You so badly wanted to help her take you, but you couldn't risk loosing what was to come.
“Making mommy feel so good,” Natasha mumbled as she lowered herself further on the toy, enthralled by the stretch to her soft walls that gripped you with might.
The redhead placed her hands behind her on your knees and in doing so greatly improved your view of her cunt swallowing your cock. You groaned at the mesmerising sight and could've sworn you could feel how she clenched around you with every inch she took until Natasha was fully seated on the toy you refused to use with anyone else.
The spy lifted herself halfway off of the toy before she was slamming herself down on it again. The motion shook you both and in an attempt to aid her pleasure, you brought your hands up to Natasha's chest and cupped her tits. The redhead managed to chuckles admist her breathy moans. “You just can't keep your hands to yourself,” she mused but made no effort to stop you, too engrossed in the feeling of the dildo working inside you.
“No, mommy,” you agreed blindly as you felt her nipples harden under your touch. Your thumbs drifted over them while Natasha steadily bounced herself above you, the occasional curse and gasped “yes” being uttered. She was a vision like that, using you for her own pleasure all while you laid back and watched her angelic features communicate the parade of sensations ablaze in her.
Once she was accustomed to the size and stretch had subsided, your cock reached Natasha’s depths with ease, seemingly stroking every minute nerve as it did and threatened to make the redhead buck under the pleasure. “Fuck me,” she hissed when her legs started to become numb.
You didn't need telling twice. You gripped Natasha’s hips with bruising relief and began thrusting your hips up to meet the pace the spy needed. “Oh god, that's it,” she confirmed, slouching forwards to rest her hands on your stomach to better support the sudden shift.
“Don't stop,” Natasha ordered with underlying desperation.
“Never,” you whined when her nails dug into your skin, imprinting half moons that would linger for several days. It only spurred you on as you guided Natasha’s frame into your own in a heated collision, one that you could never be allowed to control.
In a blur, Natasha’s trained hand wrapped itself around your throat and squeezed at the sides. You immediately felt the blood rush but it didn't defer your movements. Natasha beamed down at you as she watched your fight off your internal conflict ignited by your light-headedness.
“Don't stop,” she said, this time with a challenging tint. You accepted with a rushed nod and continued to pound the toy into the redhead. The moan it brought from her was nothing short of profane and made your entire body buss as though in a state of call and response.
“You're gonna make me cum like this,” she told you. “Gonna make mommy cum on your cock,” she said as she toppled forwards almost entirely flat against your front and moved her hips in a frantic grind.
“Please,” you begged as one hand grabbed her ass to push her deeper in.
“Fuck, y/n,” she groaned with a sharp cry, her grip around your throat tightening momentarily as she came. You saw white just as Natasha did and bathed in the euphoria that crashed over the older woman as she panted and moaned in your ear. Her muscles twitched as she came down from her orgasm and slowly rode your cock through it to sooth her pulsing cunt until she finally collapsed on top of you.
Barely a moment passed before Natasha peered over at you with dark eyes and a promising smirk. “You're gonna be the death of me,” you told her as you flipped your bodies over and grabbed your still attached hips together.
“I'm worth dying for,” she replied with a pleased smile.
*
Nat: I'll be over in 10. You glanced at the message on your phone and huffed to yourself. Natasha had added her number back to your phone when you had gone to get some water the last time she was over and you hadn't bothered to delete it again. You still had every intention of moving on from the spy, you just needed to figure out how.
Me: maybe I'm out rn. You replied.
Nat: funny. You huffed again and tossed your phone to the side, knowing your ittitance with the redhead wouldn't last once she had her hands on you.
You were right. The moment you were pushed back on the bed with the torturous spy following after you, being mad at her was the last thing on your mind. In fact, you were so enthralled by the feeling of her lips on yours that you didn't notice what her wandering hands held until the S.H.I.E.L.D issued handcuffs were secured around your wrists above your head. That was new.
Natasha looked down at you with a devilish grin and you knew that wasn't all she had planned. “You trust me, don't you?” She asked in a sickly sweet voice as she produced a blindfold. You stared at the black material as you nodded your head but Natasha tutted.
“Use your words, malysh,” she chided.
“Yes,” you breathed out. Natasha gave a low hum of approval and placed the soft fabric over your eyes and tied it at the back of your head. With your senses heightened, you almost jumped at the light kiss pressed to your cheek.
“I'll be right back,” she whispered against your ear. You shuddered and the bed creaked quietly as she got off but you didn't hear her leave and for a moment you wondered if she was still there, admiring your bare form as you listened out for her. There wasn't much point, of course. If the black widow didn't want to be heard, she wouldn't be.
It felt as though aeons passed before you felt the bed dip again. You turned your head in that direction on instinct, waiting for any indicator as to what the other woman was doing. She didn't say a word, giving you no warning when a sudden bitterly cold object was placed on your torso. You inhaled sharply and heard Natasha chuckled as she slid the object across you and left a wet trail. An ice cube. You would have laughed if you weren't so shocked, not taking her seriously when Natasha had mentioned it months ago.
“You're cute when you squirm,” Natasha commented. “Is it too cold for you, detka? You need something to warm you up?” She asked. You searched your brain for what she could possibly mean, clocking it just as you heard a lighter being flicked on for several seconds.
“I didn't think you were serious,” you admitted with an anxious laugh as you rightfully pictured the candle Natasha held above your naked body.
“Are you changing your mind?” She asked as she removed the ice cube and replaced it with her warm mouth. You gasped at the pleasantly wet feeling of Natasha’s tongue picking the water off of your torso. Fuck, you whised you could see her.
“No,” you managed to say.
“That's my good girl,” She smiled against your skin as she allowed the candle to burn and brought another ice cube to your stomach - lower this time. You jumped at the expected cold but didn't get a chance to shiver because Natasha was quick to leave open mouthed kisses across the chilled area.
Natasha revelled in your conflicted responses to her touches, admiring the way your body was entirely at her mercy to torment as she saw fit. After such a shit mission, she relished in that control.
Pulling the ice cube away from your sensitive skin, Natasha watched how your muscles tensed in expectation, but Natasha was anything but predictable and instead allowed a small bead of hot wax to dribble over you. You hissed once more though this time you pulled on the restraints around your wrists, only relaxing when the redhead locked a long strip of the wax off of your body.
“Mommy,” you whined, unable to tell if the heat from her mouth made it better or worse, all you knew was that it was exquisitely intense and unlike anything you had ever felt.
“You're taking it so well,” Natasha cooed as she kissed the valley between your breasts. At her words, you felt your already wet cunt clench. You tried to steady your breathing and focus on the striking heats but it was impossible to ignore the pulsing.
You had never let Natasha touch you before, the one trait she shared with everyone else you had been with. It wasn't like they never offered, you had just never been comfortable enough to let them. Natasha herself had asked countless times but you always shrugged her off. It didn't matter, you were a giver anyway. But with every round of alternating temperature patterns, it became harder to disregard your need.
“You're so wet,” Natasha noted as she pushed your thighs apart and kept you open, intending to focus on your thighs before she took in the sight of your soaked pussy. Her mouth watered as she watched you clench around nothing and she couldn't help but wonder how tight you were.
Just to add to your aching frustrations, Natasha spilled more wax across you, this time dripping down the inside of your thighs. Your moans were needier than Natasha had ever heard and it only spurred her on as she licked the wax off your skin and hummed at the scents of vanilla.
“Such a messy thing,” she chuckled. “Oh, detka, that looks painful,” she pouted as she saw your arousal had smeared to your thighs. “You need mommy to take care of that?” She asked, not expecting your response to be any different than usual.
“Yeah,” you whined. Natasha’s eyes widened.
“Yeah? Want me to take care of this pretty pussy?” She continued as her excitement grew.
“Please,” you whispered, your walls finally crumbling.
Natasha didn't waste another second, her mouth was on your cunt in an instant and you both gave a gluttonous moan at the contact. “Fuck,” you cried out as the redhead flattened her tongue and explored your cunt with a newfound vigour. Your thighs clasped around Natasha’s head and your hips seemed to develop their own free will as you desperately tried to grind against the source of your disorientating pleasure.
“God, you taste so good,” she mumbled against you before sinking her tongue inside. Her moans resonated through your entire body, vibrations brushing every nerve ending as she gripped your hips and forced you to stay still as she fucked you.
“Please,” you whined though you had no idea what you were pleading for. It was all so much. Natasha seemed to know what you needed and swiftly switched to sucking your clit in her mouth. You tugged on your restraints and arched your back sharply, core ablaze.
The spy examined you closely for everything that made your body shudder and cunt clench. It wasn't hard to figure out how highly responsive and sensitive you were. Poor thing, Natasha had thought as she sucked on your puffy lips as a momentary relief.
It didn't take long to work you up to your orgasm and Natasha was more than ready to give it to you. “It's alright, detka, cum for me,” she coaxed before sinking her tongue into your cunt and setting on the pace you needed from her.
“Gonne,” you whined as the pressure built and built until it was too much and you went spiralling over the edge, floating mid air until you tumbled back down. Natasha pulled the blindfold down just as you came and your eyes locked in that moment, watching each other become entirely enthralled by the other’s acts.
“Give me another,” she instructed clearly, something dark lurking behind her eyes.
You weren't sure you could until Natasha pushed two fingers into your tight cunt. You cried out as your already overworked nerves were pushed once more. But it ached so good, hurting in just the right way that you didn't want it to stop.
Natasha’s fingers thrust and curled inside you as you became a mess beneath her. She cooed sweet whispers of praise as she coaxed you through another orgasm, touching you in the ways she had always envisaged to see you come undone.
You came again with a silent gasp, your body too wrecked to have the strength for anything else. Natasha pumped her fingers steadily as she watched you and left kisses across your inner thigh to bring you back to her.
“Beautiful,” she commented as she withdrew her fingers and brought them up to her lips, staring at you with a satisfied smirk as she sucked on her digits. You watched her through hooded eyes, your frazzled brain trying to figure out how you were ever going to be able to part from the assassin.
“Mine,” she whispered as she kissed back up your chest, as though she knew what you were pondering. “Always mine.”
538 notes · View notes
nocturnalrat · 11 months
Note
Hear me out…
1610! Miles comforting reader after she get jealous because of how much he’s been around Gwen and he’s just touching and kissing her in all the right places and makes sure that reader knows that he loves her and only her 🙈💕
Thank you for the great prompt! I had lots of fun writing this. :p <3
---
It was truly infuriating.
You hadn’t seen each other in a week due to school work keeping you busy, and there had been a surge of criminal activities in New York, which is why Miles had been occupied most of the time as well.
And now, when the two of you were finally able to hang out again, he kept talking about someone else entirely.
You were lying on the bunk bed in his dorm room, listening to him ramble on about the adventures he had lived through last week.  
“You should have been there, the way Gwen incapacitated the guy was like something out of a movie.” He gesticulated frantically with his hands as he vividly described last night’s care chase.
"That sounds really fascinating," you grumbled.
After hearing your unfazed (and slightly sarcastic) tone, he looked up from his chair. "You don't sound very impressed, though."
How could you have told him that his constant stories and songs of praise about Gwen were starting to annoy the heck out of you?
Jealousy was an ugly emotion. To confess to it was shameful, exposing; you wanted to be the easy-going, cool and confident kind of girlfriend, but Miles was making it really hard for you to not seethe with anger and discontent.
"Everything okay?" he asked, and you avoided his gaze. Lying was easier when you didn’t look him into his eyes. They always were too honest and seemed to notice too much.
"Sure," you said.
He saw through your charade immediately, and climbed onto the bunk bed to be closer to you.  "There's something bothering you. I can tell."
"You can't tell shit," you said before you could stop yourself. There was anger in the pits of your stomach threatening to take over.
"Did I say something wrong?"
Yes.
"No."
"Then why are you frowning like that? It looks like you’re ready to kill someone. It better not be me."
Fuck. Were you really scowling that obviously?
"You and Gwen get along great, huh?”
"We certainly do." He tilted his head. You recognized that look on his face – it was the same one he had when struggling to solve complicated math problems. "Why’d you bring her up?"
"Why do you keep bringing her up?" you snarled. "We weren’t able to have a single conversation in the last few weeks without you mentioning her a dozen times. Not to mention the fact that you spend way more time with her than you do with your actual girlfriend.”
Shoot. Now you had done it; you had shown weakness.
Miles stared at you incredulously. "Wait a minute - are you jealous?"
You crossed your arms and looked pointedly at the ceiling.
"Absolutely not."
"Nuh-huh. That's why you're pouting." He grinned, and his lighthearted reaction only intensified the nauseating feeling of jealousy. "You know, part of me wishes you could come with us when we're patrolling, just so you could witness how much I talk about you when I'm with Gwen. But the other part of me is terrified of you being with us, as it would be incredibly dangerous for a civilian.”
"Yeah." Biting sarcasm. "I'm sure that's what you talk to her about."
"It is!" He scrambled over to you and leaned in close. "You don't have the faintest idea how important you are to me, do you?
"Can’t be that important, judging by your behavior.”
"Not that important!" he repeated indignantly. "I think about you all the time. How you're doing, what you're doing, if you need anything - always. You're the first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last thing when I go to sleep!"
"Well, you sure as hell don’t act like it,” you mumbled.
“What do I have to do to make you believe me?” He brushed an unruly strand of hair from your forehead, and the gentleness of his touch loosened the knot in your stomach the jealousy had caused. You had only recently started dating, so every little touch of his felt all the more exciting.  
You looked at him, and his wide eyes were filled with worry.
“Do you guys have to hang out so much?” you asked reluctantly. “How would you feel if I suddenly spent all of my time with an attractive guy who was single?”
He furrowed his brows. “Well, I wouldn’t be thrilled,” he began slowly. Then he shook his head. “Okay, scratch that, I’d be really pissed.”
You almost laughed. He was just like you.
“Then you know exactly how I feel.”
He kissed the corner of your mouth. "You really have no idea, do you?"
The almost-kiss had distracted you, and it took a moment for you to reply. “No idea about what?” you asked, a little breathless.
"About the things I'd do to make you happy." With a tender gesture, he took your face in his hand and caressed your cheek. "I love you more than anything in this world." The kiss that followed made any doubt you had disappear in an instant. He was telling the truth, that much was evident. “Next time, you can just straight up tell me what’s bothering you. Although I have to say, I kind of like it when you’re acting all jealous and cute.”
“Fuck off,” you said, but it was with a smile. You playfully tried to push him off of you, but he buried his face in your neck.
He was stronger than you, and his weight was pressing against you in a way that made it impossible for you to escape. Not that you wanted to - not when his lips had found your neck and left a sensation so new and good that you couldn't help but let out a sigh of contentment.
“I love you,” he said, His voice was so full of affection that it warmed your heart. “Only you. Always you. I won’t be patrolling with her as much in the future, I promise.”
At times, you wondered how someone as great as him had ended up with someone like you. The room was bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun. His eyes shimmered with an amber-like hue; the smile that graced his face was a breathtaking image.
He appeared radiant in the sunlight, and in his presence, you felt a profound sense of peace and trust overcome you.
1K notes · View notes
samkerrworshipper · 5 months
Text
exile | alexia putellas x reader
songfic based off of the song exile by taylor swift
warnings: pure angst, hurt/no comfort, cheating (sort of), divorce
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I can see you standing, honey
With his arms around your body
Laughin’, but the jokes not funny at all
Tonight isn’t much different from your normal Sunday night.
Barca had beaten Atletico convincingly early in the day, unsurprisingly.
Locker room celebrations had very quickly been moved to a popular Barcelona club, a place that a lot of your teammates were thriving in.
There was dancing, drinking, partying.
It was the Barca way, Sunday nights were a good time.
You were seated in a corner of the club, surrounded by the likes of Keira and Aitana, your more introverted group watching your friends on the dance floor.
Your eyes didn’t budge from your girlfriend, who was on the dance floor.
It wasn’t abnormal, Alexia was one of the first people to hit the floor after a good win, you were happy with that.
The part you were less happy with was who Alexia was choosing to dance with, and how she was choosing to dance with said person.
Alexia was tipsy, which was clear in her mannerisms and the constant laughter falling from her plump and beautifully red lips which were softly singing along to the song that was thrumming against the floor of the club.
She was in the middle of the floor, surrounded by other teammates, grinding up against Jenni to the beat of the music.
Their bodies were practically intertwined, Jenni’s arms tangled around Alexia’s waist whereas Alexia’s arms were reached behind her back, resting on the small of Jenni’s back.
It was almost pornographic the way they moved up and down against each other, more like an organised rhythm that was well practised in contrast to an alcohol influenced jig.
You don’t want to feel jealous, but you can’t help it when Alexia is grinding up and down on her ex girlfriend in ways that you wished she would to you.
No, the grinding, the public displays of attention, any evidence of love between the two of you, that had faded long ago.
I think I’ve seen this film before
And i didn’t like the ending
You’re not my homeland anymore
So what am I defending now?
You’d love to be able to say that this isn’t a common occurrence, but it would just be a lie. Alexia is shamelessly attractive and dances like a stripper in all of the best ways.
You have appreciation for that, but a part of you always feels betrayed when Alexia so openly flaunts herself on somebody else, especially her ex, but it’s also something you’ve become accustomed to, whether you want to admit it or not, Alexia was never yours to keep, maybe for a short amount of time, but never long enough for her to take a permanent place in your life.
You don’t try and make excuses for her inattention to you anymore, not like when at the end of your honeymoon phase when Alexia started to drift.
It just hurt more, making up excuses when they were all untrue, you couldn’t defend Alexia’s actions, not to yourself, not to anybody on the team, not to the general public.
You were my town,
Now I’m in exile seein’ you out
I think I’ve seen this film before
For whatever reason it doesn’t bother you as much anymore.
You’ve watched Alexia walk out the door hundreds of times, and every single time she’s come back.
It’s some kind of weird toxic attachment where neither of you really love each other anymore but for whatever reason Alexia has chosen you to become attached to and you can’t do anything but sit by and watch as she detaches herself everyday only for her to reattach herself when she falls into your arms every night.
Once upon a time, Alexia was your everything, the reason your heart kept pumping, the solution to every single one of your problems.
I can see you starin’, honey
Like he’s just your understudy
Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me
The worst of it all, Alexia looks, Alexia dances, Alexia smiles that same way she used to with you. You wonder if she’d smiled at Jenni the same way when they’d been together, if she’d loved her so viciously before becoming bored with her.
Alexia dances with Jenni like they’re the only two people in the room, and you’re frightfully aware that if anybody were to even attempt to get between them Alexia would put up a fight.
Second third and hundredth chances
Battling on breakin’ branches
Those eyes add insult to injury
It’s not like the whole situation is new to you either.
There has been plenty of women before Jenni, and there will be plenty afterwards.
You’ve stopped trying to count the amount of women that Alexia has toyed around with whilst being in a relationship with you.
She doesn’t cheat, she doesn’t break that barrier, she dances, she smiles, she laughs, she gives away every part of herself that matters the very most to you.
Sex and libido be damned, you’d spend every single day of your life in pain if it meant you got to experience Alexia smiling at you once again, laughing or craking jokes in front of you.
Those moments, those chances, are long gone.
Her eyes, the beautiful greenish hazel orbs no longer bother themselves with you, it’s almost insulting how she so easily can smile at Jenni when she can never manage to even give you a little quirk of her lips here and there.
I think i’ve seen this film before
And i didn’t like the ending
I’m not your problem anymore
So who am I offending now?
You don’t even flinch when the dancing turns into an extremely intimately looking hug, the two women continuing to grind up and down on each other as they stare at each other with a kind of earnestness and conviction that would make any girls’ heart flutter.
Alexia long ago learnt that you would never dare to object to her rather unprofessional moments with her teammates, you didn’t have the heart to.
She didn’t care if she hrut you, didn’t care if it killed every single organ and burst every single blood vessel in your body if it meant she was having a good time.
You were my crown
Now i’m in exile, seein’ you out
I think I’ve seen this film before
So I’m leavin’ out the side door
Ever since your Alexia, your heart, your soul, your home, became La Reina, she hasn’t been the same.
She had her crown, she had her throne, she had the world beneath her feet.
You would never be good enough for her, how could anyone be?
It’s fine, you're used to it, you're used to the sideways glances at other women, your okay with Alexia partying with other women. What you aren’t used to, or okay with is Alexia making out with her ex girlfriend, right in front of you, in the middle of a club, with all of your teammates surrounding.
Suddenly, before you can think or breathe or do anything your standing up, before Keira can try to stop you and bolt from the club, finding the nearest door and pushing it open.
The cold rush of the Barcelona air in the empty alleyway is the only thing that forces you to take a breath, the brittle cold air forcing it’s way into your lungs and burning against your wet and tearful eyes.
So step right out, there is no amount
Of crying i can do for you
All this time
We always walked a very thin line
You don’t want to cry, not when subconsciously you are crying over a woman that hasn’t been remotely yours in a long time.
You are though, big fat tears are rolling down your face unceremoniously as you try to regain your composure.
You don’t ask much of Alexia, you don’t expect much when it comes to receiving affection from her or receiving anything much from her.
You do expect one thing, if she’s going to be in a relationship with you, then she is going to stay loyal, there is no room for infidelity in your life.
You can’t handle that, you can’t handle spending every minute of every day that you are apart from Alexia wondering what she’s getting up to behind closed doors. You trusted Alexia with one thing, and she managed to betray that one piece of trust you harboured for her.
You know that Alexia has always teetered on the line of things, often blurring the lines of infidelity, but she’s never crossed it, she’s never kissed another girl, she’s never stepped out on you.
So this, it feels like a train has hit you straight in the chest.
You didn’t even hear me out (you didn’t even hear me out)
You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)
You're not left out in the cold by yourself for long, the sound of the club side door opening, pulling you from your own mind.
Alexia is standing in front of you, hands fidgeting in front of her stomach as she looks at you, her front teeth biting down on her front lip as she tries to assess the damage.
“Bebita-I.”
You cut her off with your teary eyes and croaky voice.
“Ale I don’t want to hear it, I don’t want to know.”
The Alexia you’ve grown used to would walk away, leave you in the dust and go back to whatever fun she’s having, but she doesn’t.
“You won’t even hear me out?”
You look up at her, the tears instantly drying and your look of pure agony transitioning into something of anger.
“I won’t hear you out? Alexia you just fucking cheated on me, no warning, no signs, just kissed your ex girlfriend in front of me, I don’t want to know why, I don’t care, clearly you didn’t care when you were making out with another woman in front of me.”
Alexia bites down further on her lip, teetering on the edge of drawing blood as she observes you.
“It’s not like that.”
All this time
I never learned to read your mind (you never learned to read my mind)
I couldn’t turn things around (you never turned things around)
‘Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)
So many signs, so many signs
You didn’t even see the signs
You’ve known Alexia for ten years, you’ve been dating her for seven, married for four.
Those years don’t matter to her, they hardly matter to you anymore, but they mean something, you’ve devoted ten years of your life to a woman and sure, she’s not perfect, she’s everything but, it’s ten years of history though.
“It’s not like what? Alexia I can’t read your fucking mind, I can’t decipher everything you are thinking, so please, enlighten me, how the fuck is this not like that?”
Alexia, in all her years, has never seen you like this, you’ve never once raised your voice at her out of anger, she figures it’s a long time coming but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
“Can we just forget about it?”
That hurts you even more, unless Alexia has a magical brain wiping machine, you know that neither of you will ever be able to forget this, your teammates won’t forget it, it’s not something forgettable.
“Of course, let’s just forget about it, god forbid La Reina ever had to put in the work to turn her shit around and get her life together and admit she fucked up, no we just have to forget about all of this. Let’s just go home, sí? We can go hop into bed together and I’ll just pretend that the woman sleeping next to me doesn’t have her ex girlfriends scent and kisses all over her.”
Your tone is cut throat, as harsh as a sharp knife.
“Nena, please.”
Alexia looks genuinely upset, and your kind of glad, she deserves to feel a fraction of what you are feeling, a slither of the turmoil and insurmountable pain that you’ve experienced in the last five minutes.
“Did I miss the signs? Was I so blind to realise that you love Jenni more than me? You sure kiss her like you love her more than me. God I don’t even remember the last time you kissed me like that. Our honeymoon? The first Ballon D’or? It’s been years Alexia, years of me sitting around waiting patiently for you to turn this all around, to realise that I love you more than anything else in the world. It’s fine, you want out, you can have out, I’ll get my lawyer to draw up divorce papers, I’ll move out, I’ll move clubs.”
Alexia’s face drops, that;s the last thing she wants, the very bottom of her list.
“Bebé, no, we can work this out, I’ll go to couples therapy, we can make this better, we can turn this around.”
You shook your head, a new wave of tears dripping down your face and onto your favourite night out top as you struggle to keep your composure.
“Alexia, I won’t be married to somebody who’s cheated on me, you broke our vows, sacred vows that we made in front of god. Marriage to me is a commitment, it’s a promise, you swore to me, for better or for worse, until parted by death. One of us might not have died, but a part of our relationship did when you kissed Jenni, I’m done, all the sleepless nights, the lack of love, the borderline cheating, you’ve toed the line but this time you’ve obliterated the line, so I’m done.”
You push past her, back into the club so you can collect your things.
You don’t even make it to the table before Keira has you in her arms, shielding you from the music and people.
“Need to leave, I need to go.”
Keira nods at you, Lucy has now joined the huddle around you, the two of them working together to keep you away from the eyes of any of your teammates or general bystanders in the club.
“We’ll get you home, let’s get you out of here, hmm? You can come back home with us, you're always welcome in our spare room.”
From back out in the alley, Alexia feels sick to her stomach, and there is not much more she can do than pick her phone out of her pocket and dial the only number she can think of.
“Mamí, I’ve ruined it all.”
548 notes · View notes
munsonbrackets · 8 months
Text
Astarion x undying male reader
Just imagine Astarion having to lure back someone who can’t die for Cazador. 
Like Cazador didn’t tell him anyone specific, just someone pretty, which you are. Undeniably.
So he lures you over from across the bar, gets to talking, does the chatting he usually does. And you are so nice to him, but he refuses to be locked in another coffin for 200 years for not doing what Cazador said, so he lures you to Cazador.
But just a small problem with you being lured to Cazador to be turned into a spawn. You are a random dude who just cannot die. Not in the “nothing can kill me, i'm unkillable and immortal!” kind of way. No. That would be too simple. You cannot die in the “bone snapping, skull shattering, viscera brought to life once more.” kind of way.
So when Cazador attempts to turn you, you just kinda wake up again. With all of your blood still in you and a REALLY pissed off true vampire looking at you. And Cazador tries, tries again, tries 100 more times and he just cannot turn you. 
And you really can’t be bothered to stay for another 100 trials, so you just leave, first chance you get. All of the spawn think you’re one of them, Cazador being too embarrassed to tell the truth. That he was too weak to turn you.
Tumblr media
You leave Baldur’s gate, no need to have a pissed off old vampire coming after you. Especially not when all of his plates are silver, the dude has got money.
And a while later, when you get kidnapped and forced onto the nautiloid. You were scared for the first time in a long time. You had never had an illithid parasite put into your skull. The nautiloid then came crashing down and you were half expecting to just vomit it up. The other half of you wondering whether or not your affliction with death would prevent you from becoming a mind flayer. You always heard that mindflayers very much lacked in the soul category, maybe that’s why you could never stay dead?
But you decide to go at it, you’ve been gone from Baldur’s gate for a few 100 years, maybe someone there could help. On the way you find many companions, Gale of waterdeep, Lae’zel the githyanki, Shadowheart and the rest of your astounding group.
But most importantly, Astarion. Astarion the vampire spawn. Which the group found out about fast enough, specifically when he tried to bite you. You just could not tell whether or not he knew you. Recognized you.
That is until you and him sit alone, watching the stars. 
“You remind me an awful lot about someone I used to know.” Astarion practically whispered it out, seemingly unable to make up his mind whether or not he was gonna let the words out.
“Do I now? What was he like?” You mutter back, your eyes still fixated on the stars. But you are still so aware of him next to you.
“He was… I can’t completely remember. I met him once, maybe twice.” Astarion pauses and a shuddered breath is forced out of his lungs, he’s tense. Possibly remorseful. “But he was beautiful. He would look at everyone like they were infinite. He did that to people. Made them feel invulnerable.”
You ignored Astarion’s indirect, very direct, compliment.
“What happened to him?”
The words left your lips faster than you could really think about them. You tried easing the tension by laying flat on your back, using your palms as pillows for your head. 
Astarion’s breath almost hitched at your words, but he took a second, seemingly in thought. He was probably considering whether or not he should tell you the truth. You realized you had put him into a curious position, and with the battles ahead, you were inevitably going to see Cazador once more. Cazador would definitely recognize you.
“You handed him over to Cazador, didn’t you?”
You forced the words out this time. Every single part of your very being, screaming at you to be quiet.
Astarion swallowed harshly.
“Yes. I did. I wish I could say I would do anything to bring him back from whatever wretched fate Cazador forced him into. But I can’t. It’s never that simple is it?”
An involuntary chuckle left your throat and you saw Astarion whip his head towards you, his anxiety rising a thousand fold. You quickly sat up, looked at him reassuringly, and then you gently folded his hand between yours.
“I’m certain he forgave you long ago. Especially knowing what you went through, I highly doubt he blames you.”
And in Astarion’s eyes you recognized the same man from all those years ago, the insecure vampire spawn with the twinkle of the entire universe locked in his eyes.
You hoped that you made him feel as invulnerable as the first time you met him.
971 notes · View notes
prettyboykatsuki · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
keep me close to you | i. yoichi
✮ tags ; childhood best friends to lovers / idiots to lovers, reader is implied to have grown up a tomboy, stereotypical shoujo manga tropes rip, reader wears makeup, a lot of sexual tension, kissing, confessions 18+
✮ wc ; 3.6k (i don't know. don't ask me.)
✮ a/n ; the worlds most self-indulgent horseshit in the world. sorry! but im not at all actually. this is the very typical 'i didn't see you that way until i realize i did the whole time.' bc i love that trope and i love isagi ok....
reader in this kind of feels awkward in her femininity and that appears in the fic more than once!! please be forewarned.
✮ synopsis ; isagi has never seen you as much more of a friend. so he thought at least.
Tumblr media
Isagi is in love with you.
He isn't sure when that happened. He'd love to be know but in all truth - there was never any big eureka moment that made such a thing apparent. If Isagi had to think of all the moments he maybe, sort-of, possibly loved you, they come up to him as bits of nothing-much memories.
That's exactly the problem, really. A long few years of little nothings, accumulated over time, Isagi finds that his whole life has been made up of you. There was no grand gestures of confessions or singular standout moments for him to mull over.
But there was rough-housing with you back when your hair was a little shorter and your chest a little less noticeable. And there was plenty of bike races to the store for ice-cream, and lots of bonding over music you both liked. Isagi remembers sitting on your floor in the 6th grade and watching you play video games much better than he ever could.
A lot that stuff persisted into your teen years, and even into adulthood. Isagi has never thought of it as weird. Play fighting or bike races or being reckless together felt natural - and in some ways, you were the only person who ever brought that out of him.
It was normal. You were friends and you got along as friends. Isagi never thought about it any more than that.
Just a few months ago, you got a boyfriend. Said boyfriend didn't think your friendship with Isagi was entirely appropriate. He had approached Isagi first. You talked to Isagi after, said you'd still hang out but no more rough-housing and that was that.
Isagi had heard about your boyfriend, though you didn't talk about him much. And after meeting him, it was easy enough to conclude that he was genuinely a good guy. Objectively good for you, accepting of your personality, kind and thoughtful. A good stable job There was nothing bad he could say about him. He wished there was.
"Just the being touchy. I know you two don't think anything of it since you've been friends for so long," He leans in, friendly, as he pats Isagis shoulder "But you wouldn't like if your girlfriend was being touchy with another guy right?"
Isagi had nothing to say. He'd never thought about. Never had a proper girlfriend, though he was interested in a few girls. He'd lost his virginity out of the country and had some hook-ups and talking stages. Never a girlfriend.
Would it bother him? He couldn't say. He didn't know who to think of. There was not a hypothetical girl he could conjure to give him a conclusion. Ultimately dazed, Isagi had replied with something along the lines of "Yeah man, I get it," and then left for practice without turning his back.
It bothered him for weeks. He couldn't do anything without pondering that very question. He couldn't stop thinking about the way he'd described you as his girlfriend. You'd always been a friend, and Isagi knows you as a girl. But you're you before that, and he's never quite put both things next to each other.
But he'd never even thought to look at you as a girlfriend. He brushed off such comments and so did you. You were his friend. One of the very best. You'd know each other until you die, and in a way - this is just proof of your next stage of life. You'd settle down with a partner and so would he and everything would be fine.
But, the thing was - he'd never actually conjured up the future. There was never any assured belief that you'd go and find someone to nest with so soon. It felt unnatural. Disorienting. There was an order to this strange and mad world and your relationship went against it.
Even in thinking that, it'd take Isagi weeks to figure out the extent of his feelings. Weeks of practicing, of going on group dates with his team, of drinking. Weeks of missing you. Being conscious of the sudden absence of his very best friend in the world. You still saw him but it was no longer every other day. And you still called and texted, still told him stupid stuff about your life.
But he'd go on Instagram and see pictures of you from someone else's account. You'd be wearing something he'd never seen you in before. It was pretty. You were prettier. He'd never thought about that before, if only to say that you were and always had been. And plenty of guys had noticed in highschool, too. He'd never thought about it then either.
Isagi had never really considered a lot of things. It didn't dawn on him that he loved you until Bachira pried the information out of him one night on the road.
("Yocchan is stupid,"
Isagi leans on the bench in the locker room and frowns, throwing a confused look Bachira's.
"What the hell? For what?"
It's not Bachira who tells him the information - but Rin, who walks towards his own locker with a tired expression and a towel around his shoulder.
"You're in love with her, you stupid jackass.")
Right. It'd been Rin who told it to him straight, and Rin would know a thing about love. Apparently he'd been with the same girl since highschool and he knew a thing or two. For Rin to tell Isagi such a thing made Isagi really think on it, and when Isagi finally sat down and thought about it - it was clear that he was head over heels in love.
Isagi is in love with you. It has been a tremendous pain in the ass trying to live with this information. It made sense - it really did. It made sense that everything suddenly felt so wrong. It made sense that he never new anything about love and that he could never keep a relationship.
When he thought about it, he'd never stop comparing everyone to you. If it were you—you'd be clumsy at fancy restaurants but it'd still be so much fun to go. If it were you—he might've cared much more about valentines day chocolates. It would've been so novel, so lovely - to imagine how hastily you would've made them. Not obligatory friendship chocolates but something just for him.
If it were you, he might've wanted to buy you expensive things. They'd be different. Clothes and shoes but game consoles and concert tickets. If it were you, he'd always take his sports car. He might've liked the way you fawned over them, with that wide-eyed sense of adventure he's spent his whole life getting to know.
Yes if it were you, Isagi might've gotten angry. Now that he knows, the idea you're getting so touchy-feely with another guy makes him sick. He knows he has no right to feel that way, but he can't exactly help the feeling either.
From the start, if Isagi had realized love started and ended with you, then maybe he would know a thing or two about love by now. He might've cared more about everything, had he realized it even a little sooner.
A few months ago would've sufficed.
Isagi is in love with you.
He has no idea if you feel the same, but in a way that doesn't change anything.
He's seated on his couch, alone in his apartment - and thinking wistfully that he probably has been this whole time.
He looks around his apartment, feeling a little sorry for himself. He's drinking. Even this tipsy, his mind is clouded with memories. You looked at this place together and you helped Isagi move in many months ago.
A place with a good view of the city, Isagi stands to his feet and watches near the cool glass of the window.
It takes him a while to hear his phone ring. When he does, he almost feels like he's hallucinating when he sees your name on the other side. He stares, wonders if the kami like playing malicious tricks on him, and then picks up.
He speaks slowly.
"Hello?"
He knows your crying, even though you're trying harder to hide it. That desperate sniffle that you get is an easy tell.
"Yoichi," You mutter, soft and sad "Can you come to the park?"
"At this hour? It's late. Your boyfriend is gonna be pissed."
You hiccup on the other side of the line. Isagi wants to run to you as soon as possible.
"Just come," You sniffle again, a little sadder. You're crying this time forreal "...I want to see you."
"Okay. Are you alone?"
"Mm,"
"Stay on the phone with me. I'll come soon. Stay on the line."
"Okay."
__
Isagi comes to find you at the park like you've asked. He keeps you on the line the entire Uber ride there and then as he comes through the playground to find you.
Somehow, he knows exactly where you'll be. It's the park you two grew up coming to. It's dark out, damp from the night, and Isagi finds you tucked in the same corner you always are.
You still fit there somehow, just beneath the slide. It's a big space, enough for two people. So, wordless, Isagi climbs into the little box and sits next to you. Close but not close enough, he hangs up the phone and turns his head to stare at you.
"I'm here," He says, mostly because he doesn't know what else to say.
You look up at him, obviously having been crying. You're wearing a sweatshirt and shorts, but your face has some light make-up on it like you were on a date. He forces himself not to frown as you gaze at him - pouting.
"You're here." You repeat, like you don't know what else to say. You lean your head on his shoulder. It's the most natural feeling in the world, but right now - it makes his breath hitch "Thanks for comin'"
"Are you gonna tell me what happened?"
"Well I don't want to."
"Can you really say that after crying like a baby, begging for me to come over, huh? All I want to see you—"
You elbow him without mercy.
"Shut up you jackass. Sorry to interrupt your late night jerk-off session with my tears."
It's not said with any malice, a joke - but there's insecurity laced in. Sorry for making you come see me, you want to say he's sure. He shakes his head.
"I could've been hooking up with a girl."
"Yeah? It's a miracle anyone would wanna get your dick wet, you should go back and finish the job,"
"Can't," Isagi mumbles, trying not to look at you closely "Some girl is making my shoulder wet instead though."
"Sorry," You croak, so horrifyingly sincere Isagi doesn't know how he's keeping himself upright "I can move."
"I was kidding," He says, hurriedly "It's fine. It reminds me of when we we're kids."
You huff a laugh.
"You only remember annoying stuff."
He mumbles something in agreement before there's a brief bout of silence. He speaks again first.
"Gonna tell me what happened?"
"We broke up," You mumble. Isagi feels his heart race, immediately riddled with guilt afterwards. "He broke up with me."
"I thought things were going well?"
"They were," You sniffle. It's the first time in your lives you've opened up to each other about something like this. You've talked about it, but it was always more him talking and you listening. He'd never heard about your crushes before.
In such a vulnerable, innocent position. Alone with him, confiding in him. He wants to stay with you forever "He was really good to me."
"So what? Why'd you break up?"
"I didn't love him. I liked him. And I thought I'd come to love him, but I didn't...I just couldn't love him. He knew it too, so he broke up with me."
"Was he mean about it?"
You laugh.
"Course not. He's one of the nicest guys I've ever met in my whole life. Told you, he was good to me."
"So then...? Are you sad about hurting his feelings?"
You nod, almost meek.
Isagi loves you more than life itself, he thinks.
"I wanted to love him. I thought I could."
"Why couldn't you?"
A brief pause of silence. You're debating on what to say before you seem to settle on something.
"Already someone else."
"Someone else? You love someone else?"
A whisper of hope. So small Isagi almost can't bear it. You nod.
"And what about them?"
"Doesn't love me back."
"How long?" His voice is shaking. He has no idea if you can tell. You laugh.
"A long time."
"Do I know him?"
You laugh again, a little throatier. More melancholy. Isagi feels like he's looking into an abyss. A dangerous place to fall in if he's not careful. He's already in love, already too deep. But he already steeled himself not to hope too much.
"You do know him, I guess."
"Tell me about him," Isagi almost urges. He has to be sure. He has to be sure this isn't one long dream, and that everything is real. "What he's like."
You look at him surprised.
"I thought you hated when I talked about stuff like this?"
"Changed my mind."
"Weirdo. It's nothin' special. We've known each other a while. We get along well. He likes the stuff I do and I like being around him."
"When'd you realized you loved him?"
"Middle school? Probably."
Ah. You've known each other a little longer than that, haven't you?
"You're being awfully secretive about it. Nothing more specific?"
You frown at him.
"Piss off. Go back to not caring about it. It's a dark part of my past and I already gave up on it forever ago."
"What if..." Isagi swallows. He's really the dumbest guy in the entire world for this. It could always be someone else. He knows that. "If your feelings were returned? What then?"
"I've never thought about it," You say, not even considering it might be the case "I'd be happy but I don't see the point in getting my hopes up. His type in girls is like...cuter I guess."
Isagi wants to knock himself out. Idiot. He's gone and ruined his own chances. He wish he could go back and kick the ass of his highschool self. If he called you cute right now, you'd definitely think he was trying to coddle your feelings. You are cute to him.
He can't get the words out.
"And you don't think you are?"
You shoot him a surprised look then burst out into laughter.
"Well, no. Daisuke used to say it but I don't know. Most guys wouldn't think of me as...cute? Sexy maybe? Apparently some of the guys from department see it that way."
Aah. Isagi hates this. He hates hearing that guys name without honorifics. His first name, at that.
"You should listen to the guy you used to date and not whatever knuckleheads you go to school with."
"Are you saying I'm cute, Yoichi? Started feeling bad?"
"It's not pity, alright? But you're not..not cute."
You pause before breaking out in genuine, unruly laughter. Isagi adores the sound of your voice, adores every inch of you as you giggle yourself into a fit.
"You'll never get a girlfriend like that. You have to at least be able to pretend."
It's not pretending. He wants to tell you that you're cute. The way you laugh is cute and the look you get playing stupid claw machine games is cute and the way you get excited by the 7/11 carrying your favorite things is cute. It's never been different and you still look so delighted. Everything about you is cute. Isagi wants to say all that, and that he finds you sexy too. For different, ordinary reasons those stupid guys in your department could never begin to know.
But words are useless - inconceivably pointless to try and make you understand.
"You're cute," He says first, staring at the place in front of him. Then adds "That's not pity."
"So you know how to smooth talk too?"
"It's not that either."
"Then what is it?" Your voice is wavering.
Now or never.
"A confession."
Isagi feels you tense. Feels you freeze. You start to stutter another joking, lifting your head from his shoulder to turn away but Isagi is quicker. Quick to hold your shoulder, to turn you towards him, to hold your cheek and make you look his face.
"Yoichi?"
"Is it me? Am I the person you like?"
You shake your head trying to look away.
"I don't want to answer that."
"I like you," Isagi grips your shoulder tighter, presses his forehead against yours as he holds on for dear life with hope "I only figured it out recently."
A bout of silence passes before your voice sounds again. It's shaking so hard. Isagi can hear how hard your heart is beating.
"This is fucking mean." You whisper. He frowns at you.
"Do I look like I'm joking? Huh? Does it even kind of seem like that?"
"But since when?" You're arguing. Isagi just confessed his undying love for you and you're arguing with him about it. It's so you. "I'm not even your type."
"No one is my type but you, you idiot." Isagi is exasperated explaining this. It's embarrassing but he's a lot of time to reflect and this is as true as it gets "Every single time I'd ever tried dating someone else or doing things with them - I didn't care. I just did it without thinking. But I always thought if it was you...I'd always want it to be you."
"You're not attracted to me." You assert, maybe trying to compensate.
"Fuck you, I couldn't tell you that you were hot to your face. You kicked my ass every time I mentioned the fact your tits got bigger in highsc—"
You shove him with your shoulder.
"Because you talk about it like that you shitty jock." You hiss.
"Then what do you want me to say?" Isagi mumbles, looking at you "I think you're sexy. What else is there?"
"God this is so embarrassing,"
"I'm being serious," Isagi adds, pouting, face flush with heat "You're just...you've always been attractive I guess."
You give him a small frown. Isagi thinks it's the cutest thing in the world. He wants to kiss you absolutely fucking stupid.
"Are you sure? Like really sure?"
He snorts, laughing humorlessly.
"I've been agonizing about it for weeks. Yes I'm sure."
"What if I told you to kiss me? Could you do it?"
Isagi stares at you in disbelief. He turns himself slightly, staring at you before reaching his hand out towards your cheek. You make a soft noise of surprise as he brushes his thumb underneath your eye. Your face is so hot it's burning against the palm of his hand. He lets his hand settle on the back of your neck before leaning into kiss you.
He kisses you hard but slow. Passion imbued into each tiny movement, drawing as deep as he can go without pushing his tongue between your lips.
You let out a soft moan that makes him pull away, eyes widened. Humiliated you try to shove him away, but Isagi manages to catch you by your wrist.
"Is it starting to click or do you need me to prove it one more time?"
"Ugh. Fuck, you're so,"
He grins wolfishly as he stares at you, watching you shrink so slightly under his gaze. He's not used to winning against you in any capacity with the exception of soccer. It feels good.
"I'm so?"
"Annoying."
"That's it?" He leans in again, lips brushing your cheek and pressing a kiss to it before moving down. He presses kisses down your jaw, relishing in the way you squirm. "Nothing else to add?"
"You're enjoying this too much, Yoichi," You reprimand, though you don't make any effort to move "Are you fishing for compliments?"
"I'm wondering if you find me sexy too, that's all."
You pause before leaning in. He watches the gears turn in your brain before turning your voice low.
"Wanna touch me and find out yourself?"
He pulls away instantly in shock as you blink at him innocently. There's an air of smugness about you. He feels his face burn red immediately, blood rushing up into his brain. He tucks his chin looking away from you. His brain feels like it's full of static.
He's embarrassed. By what you've said but more by how naturally everything falls into place. By how effected he is by something so simple. It usually takes so much more to get him like this.
"What the hell was'at..."
"Karma. Don't be all cocky. I've known about my feelings way longer than you."
"Didn't think you'd know jackshit about stuff like that though."
"Just cause I spare you my sex stories doesn't mean they don't exist."
Isagi feels a pang of irritation as he scoffs.
"I don't want hear about them now either."
"I thought you weren't the jealous type?"
"I just wasn't that into any of those girls."
"But you're into me? Enough that you get jealous?"
Isagi laughs at that.
"Yeah. I'm way more into you than you're ever gonna get through your head anyways."
"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"Means I wanna get all lovey-dovey with you and embarrass you all the time."
You flush and Isagi feels like he's won. Instead of feeling elated or cocky, this time he just feels a little dazed. He stares at you through lidded eyes.
"I'm so into you," Isagi mutters, leaning his head against your shoulder "You're never gonna get it unless you look in my brain,"
You pause momentarily, leaning back enough that Isagi sits up. He looks at you curiously before he feels you tap foreheads. You close your eyes and hum, before peeking just one open.
"I looked," You say softly "I still win,"
Isagi groans internally. God. God you're so fucking cute. It's so you and it's so cute and he loves you.
"Can I please kiss you again?"
"You don't have to ask every time."
"No takebacks."
Isagi leans in again, to kiss you a little softer this time. When he pulls away, the look on your face makes him want to do it all over again. You'll be here all night if he doesn't get a hold of himself.
"You wanna come over to my place?"
"Isn't a little early for that?"
Isagi knocks your foreheads together.
"Not like that. It's late and the trains aren't running. I don't want you taking a cab,"
"I'm a big girl, Yoichi," You say sardonically "If you want me to stay over, just ask. You're still my best friend, dummy." You add the last part a little softer.
He grabs your hand.
"Then stay with me."
You nod.
"Okay. And we can have sex if you want."
"Fuck yeah."
Tumblr media
595 notes · View notes