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#i worked so hard on one of the gifts it was a hand (digitally) painted portrait of each of them!! it took me a month but turned out so cool

crying-fantasies · 5 months

Text

Eternal soul

Masterlist

It's difficult to describe how you feel at the moment, you want to record it but it's prohibited, such a transgression to the ritual, torn between keeping it to yourself for as long as you can in data to watch later (maybe forever, in times of happiness or sadness) or in your own memories when big yellow digits move across your skin with extreme care, it's obvious how difficult it is for him to keep on the tiny brush just right, color every centimeter with a chosen design as traditions insist to be, his concentration can't be compromised, you try to be as still as you can, pretty hard with the way his optics squint to be careful with the details and his glossa is poking out of his intake in deep concentration.

You want to kiss him.

Traditions could be forgotten, you told him so when the idea popped out one day, he smiled, he told you that just like you wanted to marry him in the ways of humanity, he wanted to complete the conjunx ritual with you.

And you didn't regret when you said yes.

"These are beautiful"

"I know" he tries to sound smooth, obligating his vox to stay on tune with his desire to show off his (supposed) confidence while he drags along the brush on your skin, the paint will fade off eventually, but he wants it to look good on you for the next years to come before your cells degrade again and give path to new ones.

Rodimus is way more distressed when the next step, one included given your organic nature, is the one to take.

He leaves behind the paint and brush to look at the little machine between his digits, he can't mass displace now, your hard work painting his armor and derma could get ruined since the everlasting paint is still wet, does the idea of feeling your hands brush along the paint all over his body in full concentration on him again like he is the center of your world sound tempting? Of course it does, in many levels, but he couldn't stand it if you get sad over your lost work, so now it's his turn, taking the tattoo machine on his digits and putting it near both of your hands.

He laughs, falsely and nervously so, looking to any other place, but everything is full of this, of what he is doing, of what you're letting him do to you and, somehow, this is way more intimate than he first believed at first.

The candles are still burning, texts of fortune carved at the sides, colors that you both choose for your marriage, spectralism colors that give a message of an eternal promise, love, a new start.

These candles are near to burn out soon, having taking too long, and the similarity with you almost makes him put the machine away, tell you to wash the paint before it takes on your skin, get out you of the Lost Light and back to earth, live your life and live it fully, no regrets, no unfinished desires, have a family, be happy for the years to come and-

"Listen" he takes on your surroundings, erase the main of his worries from his processor, he looks at the ceremonial candles, the gift on his side (a golden bracelet with a piece of amber with a drop of your blood inside, dried flowers from earth and a human music device) and the ones on yours (a bottle full on his innermost energon, a handmade mix tape of the 80's), "if you've anything to say-"

"I say yes" you've an idea of what is going on with him, you have to call out his designation when little tears pool on his optics, "wait, I mean, yes to this, no to whatever you are thinking" you can't even touch him without smudging the paint away and Rodimus has to make such a fast movement to prevent the tears from falling off and leave a disaster on his faceplate in their trail.

"Like, yeah, but, are you sure sure? totally? one hundred percent?" The needle is also tearing ink that falls to the floor, the vibrating sound almost an echo in the room, you smile and he feels pressure where his spark is with every hard pulse of it and how easier it feels when you take one of his digits on your hand to lead it to the other, open and waiting.

"I'm sure sure, totally, one hundred and ten percent"

Ah, what did he do so well to deserve this?

You tremble a little when the needle makes the first contact with your skin, the ink is top grade but he still cares and worries when blood pool with movement of the needle and drop out of your body, you are okay, assuring him, making little talk to prevent his mind from wandering off again, Rodimus keeps his focus on making every line as good as he can, perfection isn't possible, he learned that long ago the hard way, but he wishes so badly for this to be an exception, maybe it is, he finished his work faster than anticipated and you clean delicately your hands and fingers from the excess, his body is rigid, you inspect his work and when you smile again he can hardly stop himself from getting to your level and kiss you.

"So"

"..."

"Guess we are married-", words stop, mouth closed, he can't wait anymore when he scoops you from the floor to kiss you, he makes a whimper that sounds like a moan against your mouth, you cup his faceplate on your now tattooed hands, ink replacing in both hands the ring of promise, something you can never take off without living a scar, just like the paint on his body.

Thinking about all the process was stressful as any other wedding, but given how different you both were every detail had to be improved to some point, the painting in your body would fade off with the years, Rodimus promised to paint all again, you promised to cherish his gifts, keep his secrets and all the touches you shared, he promised to keep all your secrets, all your touches forever engraved on his memory data and, in case your memory started to fade away with the ages, he promises to be the one to make you remember.

In that very moment, it was only the two of you, basking in the moment, already knowing friends were outside, waiting for the good news, but you were inside longer than necessary, till the paint finally dried and the candles finally extinguished their fire, when you could let go of one another you see the new marks above his chest armor, the ones you painted, you move your fingers along them, every curve and line, he calls out to you, smiling, before kissing you again.

He couldn't wait to see your reaction when you noticed the glyphs he tattooed on your skin and the meaning behind it.

#reader insert #x reader #tf mtmte #transformers x reader #transformers #transformers idw #tf rodimus #rodimus x reader #rodimus prime #rodimus x human reader #idw rodimus #hot rod #terraformer au!

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dootznbootz · 5 months

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My mom is already super cool but growing up as a child of an artist/art teacher, like, really shaped me as a person. No matter your skill level your creations matter and are so so important and I'm just so fucking proud of you. And I mean fucking ALL of you.

I'm not an artist myself (at least drawing-wise. I enjoy pottery and music and writing but not much for the "I'm holding some sort of stick (pen, paintbrush, digital stylus, etc. ) and making something with it haha)

But since my mom was an artist, and I just CONSTANTLY grew up around creators. It just, idk makes you APPRECIATE things you know? My mom was a wildlife artist (she's won a couple competitions, "State Trout Stamp" is one of them.) and I remember as a little girl seeing her make her prints and how LONG they took her. And even with her WINNING some and having great paintings, she'll still have the "Oh, I hate that one >:( " which ofc, there's an "artist's eye" but it kind of makes me laugh as literally no matter your skill level, EVERY creator has a "Ew." project.

Not great lighting sorry, but these are what she's made. (Yes, there's a thermometer on the buck. That's one that a lot of people like but she doesn't so much haha. the bottom middle is the one that won.)

And since she was a teacher by the time I came around (doing her prints on the side) I grew up wandering the high school halls as a little girl and watching and playing with her students who were artists themselves.

I remember seeing how LONG it took them. Some would get frustrated with a certain thing they were struggling with like hands or making sure their eyes were right. Breaking pencils or throwing away projects. Some would start to cry and then they became a "sibling" for a moment as "mom instincts" would take over my mom and she'd just sit with them. Sometimes if I happened to be playing around in the classroom and they were there after school ended (or for "Art Club") after getting frustrated they would come to play with me on the floor with those drawing manikins and other toys that were in the classroom. (My mom was essentially a "Ms. Frizzle" type of teacher and had LOTS of toys in her class room. From Barbies to potato heads as "they're good inspiration!". She's still like that and even kind of looks like Ms. Frizzle too!) A lot of these students were my FRIENDS (more like a bunch of older siblings), even as I got older. (some were even babysitters for me) and it's funny now if I run into them and now they have kids of their own.

I don't even know what I'm chattering about anymore haha. I just...I'm really proud of y'all. Doesn't matter where you're at in your "leveling up skills", I KNOW how hard you all work. I KNOW you've taken a lot of time to get where you are! I don't do it myself but I've SEEN your efforts! I think a lot of people will see art and just think "oh it's just copying what you see" especially for hyperrealistic paintings or even for stylized stuff. People see it as "easy" or if it's not "perfect" then it's "not worth it". not even BOTHERING to understand the circumstances and/or story of the artists. And every artist has their ups and downs! I mean like I said, my mom has won competitions and STILL has her "Ew >:( " paintings! Something I've seen a lot of folks on here do!

...I'm sleepy and don't know how to end this haha. Just know you're doing a great job. I'm so happy you've gifted us your creations. It's a privilege to get to see your growth in real time.

#meh I'm getting emotional over something so small and silly but yee bleh #Mad rambles #just heard my mom talk about it and heard so many folks on here say the same about their art and idk. maybe knowing an artist who's #won competitions even has those days will cheer you on. you know?#I mean... I mean EVERYTHIGN I say whenever I'm tagging silly things on works. like it's important to me to say SOMETHING because #I know how much this shit MEANS. It can really make or break you. And I WANT for you to “make” more! :D More JOY!#if y'all like... want better closeups of her art just ask haha. Won't give out name (as that's dumb) but yeah :D

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more-than-a-princess · 7 months

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"So, I know that your administrators would not want you to wear this," Tsubasa said, holding out the green denim jacket for Sonia to take, "so my advice would be, don't get caught, huh?" They laughed, lightly shrugging. There were tons of factors at play that their processing unit hadn't calculated for, but Sonia seemed to sometimes push back just enough upon the expectations of her programming that the cyber angel assumed that if she wanted to wear it, she'd find some way to do so. And, if she preferred the idea of just hanging it up somewhere to look at, well, fine with them.

Virtually every square inch of the jacket was covered up with buttons, pins, and patches displaying all manner of horror and occult iconography, from famous slasher characters to horror manga panels to unsettling symbols of knowledge best left forgotten. The part Tsubasa thought was coolest, though, was admittedly the one they had the least personal hand in. After some consulting, they'd bought all the patches and buttons and affixed them themselves, but the large painted backpiece was beyond their abilities. Instead, they'd handed the jacket over to one of their club friends who worked as a tattoo artist with some ideas. Thus, primed with canvas sealant and nano protector so it wouldn't come off in the wash, the jacket's back featured a unique, gristly, darkly romantic scene all worked around the words MADONNA OF DARKNESS in bold, eye-catching font.

"I really did try to come up with my own access code but I kept coming back to what you told me before, and I think your classmate kind of nailed it on the first try," Tsubasa explained with another laugh. "Nothing I could think of was anywhere near as fitting." For her, or as a cool thing to put on a battle jacket. Plus, their area of expertise was digital, cybernetic things, which wasn't quite Sonia's thing. "I did ask him first, just to make sure it was cool. It worked out - he's super easy to talk to." Why had everyone told them that Tanaka-san was so hard to understand, and hard to have a conversation with? Well, whatever. They grinned. "So, happy birthday, Sonia-san! You don't need a jacket to be totally cool, but I hope you like it anyway, huh?."

Sonia's Birthday Asks 2023 - Accepting until Monday, October 16!

The days leading up to the fall holidays in Novoselic were always stressful, but perhaps being half a world away made them even more so. She'd just returned from another business lunch, finalizing details for a campaign to support international study between Japan and Novoselic, when she found Tsubasa outside her dorm room door with a gift. It had come with a series of apologies regarding the mess, but she had shown her friend in, hoping they wouldn't mind the various trunks and valises open and half-stuffed with items to take home. Members of Novoselic Castle staff were arriving in the morning to help the princess with her packing, after her father couldn't contain his laughter at watching his daughter attempt to pack her own suitcases. He'd commended her efforts, but ultimately it was safer to have professionals finish the task.

A mess Sonia had only added to once Tsubasa had presented her with their gift. Her blue eyes had lit up, admittedly far more than when discussing the series of launch events for international studies, as she quickly shucked her brushed wool coat in cherry red onto a pile of of skirts before taking the green denim jacket carefully, in awe over the various adornments that her friend had taken such care in selecting for her. She'd slipped it on right over her coordinating cherry red shift dress, the combination of green denim and soft red wool making the Princess of Novoselic look like a punk-meets-prep Christmas display. Naturally, Sonia adored it.

"Those are words I tend to live by," She grinned, turning in front of her full-length mirror for both herself and Tsubasa to see. "I have an entire room connected to Novoselic Castle's underground corridors for my occult collection, and my family does not bother entering. Truth be told, I wonder if they fear it might be cursed!"

She laughed. She could only hope, even with her replica haunted dolls and antique texts describing various exorcisms. Pins and patches of those too had made it onto the jacket, Sonia beaming as she took in the horror manga panels, the slasher film icons. "This is so very beautiful and detailed, Tsubasa-san," She told them, turning to face them finally. She'd advised Tsubasa find somewhere to sit, though there was mostly only her desk chair and a small corner of her bed not being occupied with the contents of her upcoming trip. It was almost silly: she had an entire closet and then some at home, and her mother hated the 'trashy' Japanese fashions of Shibuya that she'd explored with Anzu some time ago. Still, she insisted: at least she could wear them when she wasn't working. Just like the jacket. "Thank you very much for this gift, I love it!"

Upon their mention of the 'access code,' Sonia glanced over her shoulder to where the back of the jacket was reflected in the mirror. Moving her hair to over one shoulder so the panel could be in full view for them both, she smiled before raising an eyebrow at the design. "The amount of blood, and candlelight, and roses is stunning! And the...ah, lovers, seem to be passionately entranced with one another." She did not mention aloud that one character, a woman, had long golden hair and a blush over her cheeks while the other, fitted with feminine curves but a sterner expression, pale skin, and darker features, was, to Sonia, unmistakably a woman as well. Ensuring her family would disapprove of her being in possession of, much less wearing, such a piece even more.

Well, they'd simply have to cope with her new item that supported gothic LGBTQ romance.

"Ah, you spoke with Tanaka-san!" Sonia exclaimed, clapping her hands together in delight. She was always pleased when he made new friends and, for the first time in a long time, her heart did not ache at his mention. "Yes, he is a wonderful person and I do not doubt he elicited a positive response at his old nickname for me to be utilized here. Most do not find him approachable, but you are like me then and find him easy to talk to. But truly, am I really 'super cool' in this jacket? I have never been cool before!"

Glamorous, yes. Refined, of course. And a bit (a lot) nerdy: but cool? Sonia Nevermind had never been cool, but she could surely trust Tsubasa's opinion: they were the walking personification of coolness.

#more-than-a-princess answered #quickdeaths #Non-Despair AU: Hope's Peak Academy verse #(Sonia's Birthday Asks 2023)#(Thank you for this one! I'll be responding to the others from you gradually too as I work to get to all of my asks)#(Sonia 'I understand chuuni' Nevermind over here)#(She has no idea why everyone thinks Tsubasa and Gundham are weird)#(They are super cool to her)

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rnisa · 2 years

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Near my beloved 🥰 I want to stitch him a sweater or a gift while he works on a case (fr does this guy have anything besides the standard white PJ’s? I’d pay money to see him in a goofy ahh holiday jumper) There’s something comforting about not having to constantly talk, just quietly existing in the other’s company is more than enough. And watching someone create something from nothing is always interesting to watch

Hi beautiful super sweet Anon! AWWH, that would be SO adorable, honestly. Imagine Halle putting him in a goofy holiday sweater and the SPK takes those traditional "Sears Family" christmas card-like photos. Of course they wouldn't, but it's a cute thought.

I feel like Near has extreme sensitivity to certain fabrics or materials, which is why he loves those white PJs so much. Could have to be a sensory issue and he finally found one thing he liked and it just became his "thing". But imagine his s/o finding that exact fabric and crafting something for him with it? He would appreciate your attentiveness and genuine consideration for his comfort! I do think he's a bit rude in that if you did make him something he genuinely doesn't want to wear, he wouldn't - he would, however, keep it close by at all times. Even if you make him a sweater, a scarf or something, he would play with it or tug at it, much as he does his hair. Either way, it would not be too far from him.

If you two are in a relationship, I can see him at least trying it on for you. He's not the best at expressing gratitude (he kinda just hopes you 'know' that he appreciates you), but hopefully it doesn't last long ahaha. You'll notice he's physically cringing (if the material isn't right) and after that, he takes it off and thanks you regardless. If the material is one that he finds no sensory issue with, he would definitely wear it for at least a day.

"There’s something comforting about not having to constantly talk, just quietly existing in the other’s company is more than enough. And watching someone create something from nothing is always interesting to watch"

I COMPLETELY agree with you. It's such a special feeling to not need to put any effort into having fun with someone. Your presence is enough for each other. There's no such thing as "uncomfortable silence", actually, you both prefer it this way. Your relationship is neither performative nor forced. If either one of you have something to say, you say it. Otherwise? You and Near enjoy each other's company and just knowing someone is nearby while you work on your respective hobbies and interests. Every so often, you might make a comment about what he's doing. You might ask him a question about the legos, what the final product will be. Jokingly you'll ask him if he needs any help, to which he looks up and gives you one of his classic goofy expressions like so;

Sometimes, he'll ask what you're working on. I can see him with someone artistic, either digitally or traditionally painting, maybe a sculptor, animator, etc. He'll ask you to show him your progress and will most likely give unsolicited advice. However, as an artist I'm sure you'd appreciate this. Near would not be shy in telling you something looks off; he doesn't do it out of malice - he only wants to help you. "...That thumb is on the wrong side of the hand." or, "I'm sure if a woman had breasts that big in real life, she would break her back." , "Did you mean for that to not make any anatomical sense at all?" Again, he doesn't want to bully you! That's his way of giving friendly advice ehehe. It might take some time to teach him not to give advice unless asked.

On another note,

As much as I'd love to see him in another color, I completely understand the monochromatic life. 95% of my clothing is the same color or close to it. It makes me feel cozy and it lifts my mental health. If I'm wearing anything else it's either a special occasion, or I'm having a hard time mentally. So I can understand why he wears all white! Funny though, I wonder if it has any relation to his hair also being white... Nevertheless, I'm sure it's just a comforting thing to him so he doesn't see a reason to wear much else.

#cute ask anon #near death note #death note #nate river #anon #ask

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jerirose · 1 year

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how long have you been drawing? i used to be really into drawing when i was in high school but a chronic illness has made it really hard for me to hold things like pencils, pens, markers, and styluses so i had to give it up. you're just really good with your art and i'm super jealous.

Hi Anon!

Firstly, please don't be jealous 😔 though I very much understand where you are coming from and I'm so sorry that Chronic Illness has taken away something you love (I can very much relate).

Secondly, to answer your question I've been drawing literally since I could hold a pencil! I was ambidextrous as a child (left hand dominant) and my dad loves to tell me stories of how I'd work on two completely different drawings at once, sometimes at different stages of each drawing. That was until school forced me to use my right hand and I lost my left-handedness and my ambidextrousness.

I drew all the way up until High School as well, I was an A+ student in Art Class but my teachers weren't great and since I was a "gifted child" my parents really, really fed into it and milked it for all they could, which really tainted my love for art, so I dropped my pencil for a camera when I was 15 and pursued that as a career and went on to college to study photography. Chronic illness and disability took that from me so I understand how much it hurts and how sad it can be loosing a creative outlet you love.

I do traditional art now once in a blue moon, basically whenever the mood hits and I've done digital art on and off for the last 8 years, mostly painting one or two things a year and then not touching my tablet again (because I couldn't get my hand-eye coordinationnto work and it was annoying), until last June when I decided for some strange reason to get an XP-Pen, I've literally no idea why or what drove me to do so, but made it far easier for me to do digital art, even though it took me like 3 weeks after it arrived to touch it. (I'm literally so stubborn and I will continuly try to find ways to do what I want to pursue). And I've been doing art seriously, for the first time since I was 15, since July last year. (And by seriously I mean, I work on my art skills most days for at least 2 hours if my health/body permits it, sometimes (like yesterday 11 hours) please don't be me 😅 it's less than healthy but I do take a lot of breaks)

I have a neurological disorder that makes anything and everything I do painful and there are some days where holding my stylus is very painful, but again, I'm stubborn as hell and if I can push past the pain I will - I also take breaks frequently throughout my art sessions and do lots and lots of hand exercises too! But it can be difficult and on some days I can't even hold my phone or type because the pain is too bad and it's very disheartening, so I completely get how you feel and I know that me pushing through the pain is something that not everyone can do in my situation either.

#Jeri can't answer things simply part ????#answered #anon #sending you a lot of love anon 🫶🏻

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creativinn · 1 year

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Artist Interview - Jessica Durrant - Strathmore Artist Papers

Who are you and what do you do?

My name is Jessica Durrant, I am an illustrator based out of Atlanta, Georgia. I specialize in watercolor & gouache fashion and lifestyle illustrations.

Why do you do what you do?

I have loved fashion and drawing women in particular since I was a child. My mom had a big inﬂuence on my love of fashion and in particular dresses because she is a talented seamstress and would make me dresses when I was a young girl. I would accompany her to the fabric store and learning about creativity from her had such an impact on me from the start.

What made you decide to focus on fashion as a subject?

Fashion is such an art form to me. It has this power to change how you feel about yourself, and your conﬁdence, and that can not only change your day but your life. I also am so inspired by fashion photography, and vintage fashion magazines and just going to a designer's store-it all calls out for me to create.

What are your favorite subjects (live fashion shows, weddings, awards shows, etc.)?

I think I will always love books/magazines the most. There is something about sitting down with something that is not digital or electronic that makes me feel like I am a kid again, and that is the best mental state to be in with my creativity. Flipping through old issues of Vogue (which I go to libraries and visit archives pretty much every quarter) is one of my greatest sources of constant inspiration. I think no matter how much I might reference the past, because I live in the future, it creates this hybrid of past meets present that I love.

Are there any trends that have been your favorite to sketch?

I love seeing the use of color and volume in fashion. I love Valentino’s use of color and the color combinations feel very fresh and new. Which is hard to do with fashion. That has helped me in my latest pieces to use colors and diﬀerent combinations to see how they can bring a fresh take on my work.

Which designer’s shows do you look forward to every season & why?

Valentino of course, and McQueen’s use of structure and silhouette.

How and when did you get into art?

I started drawing when I was three, and always felt a spiritual connection to my gift. That made it easier to study it, and believe in myself-even when the world didn’t always. I got my degree in illustration, and after traveling and having real life set in I started creating meaningful work that I began selling in an online store. That became my full-time job within a couple of years and then I began getting freelance work regularly.

How has your practice changed over time?

I’m def more eﬃcient, because of the demands of illustration. The biggest changes have been now I have an archive of all my existing work from the last decade and I know how to digitally reconﬁgure, and edit all my pieces to make new collections and changes constantly. That is perfect for licensing, and also for all the editing I have to do with illustrating for clients. Such as, say I have a client asking for a collection of ﬂoral themed dresses, I can take existing patterns I have painted and apply those to new pieces and old pieces and present them with a ton of options. In the beginning, I made everything by hand and didn’t know how to edit things digitally. It made my work that much harder to revise for clients. Now I can easily change a million things in Photoshop. Phew! And it’s fun for me.

What’s your favorite piece of art that you’ve created? Why?

Trees as Veins. This piece has the most meaning to me because it reﬂected what I was going through at the time. I was ending a decade-long relationship, so the dead trees within the painting represented that. I use a lot of symbolism in my work with nature when I want to express an emotion without being literal. I was proud of not only how technically good the work was, but that it felt like I was being a true artist with the emotion conveyed in the piece. It was cathartic for me.

What’s the best piece of art advice you’ve been given?

I think Andy Warhol said it best, “Don’t think about making art, just get it done. Let everyone else decide if it’s good or bad, whether they love it or hate it. While they are deciding, make even more art.”

What’s one art tip/technique you can share with us that you ﬁnd really helpful?

The wet-on-wet technique is my favorite, you can see me use it in my reels on my Instagram @jessillustrator. It is the foundation of most of my pieces. The way the paint dries is incredible. I use a wash of water, then drop in India ink, and let it ﬂow. I try not to touch it too much. Overworking in watercolor will kill your piece.

Do you have any secret tips or techniques you use to salvage a piece when you make a mistake?

I try not to throw away things too quickly. I say, keep a stash of paintings you aren’t sure about. Then keep them on standby for impromptu painting sessions. Painting over something, or adding something without giving it too much thought can actually incite an idea you would not have thought of.

What is your favorite Strathmore paper? Why?

I love the 300 series cold press 140lb watercolor paper. I have been using it from the very start! In fact, I think all my earliest work I created (the work that got me my career) was all on that paper. Because not only is it aﬀordable, but it does the job. The bleeding and color eﬀects I get on it are great. I always recommend this paper to my students when I teach workshops.

What art materials could you not live without?

Paper, India ink, and a liner brush and ﬂat angle bright brush. Those are what I use pretty much every day.

What types of colors are you drawn to for your art and why?

Blue and green, they are the most emotive and striking colors to look at for me.

Who are your biggest inﬂuences (or who were when you started doing art)?

So, so many, it’s a mix of people like Rene Gruau, David Downton, and many Swedish and Scandinavian designers. My all time favorites are Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, and Frida Kahlo.

What’s the most common art-related question you get from your followers?

What paper am I using? And how did I get to work with the clients I have?

Website/social media links:

This content was originally published here.

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missjscornermarkethub · 2 years

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**Insert awesome blog title here**

I have no idea what I'm doing.

I'll admit it.

Between running an Instagram, online shop business that deals in both online and in person products & services; while running this blog among other things?

I'm not sure how this is going to go, or really what I'm going to be doing with this blog besides posting my art and what's available on my shop as well as maybe some new tips and tricks I've learned along the way.

I hope y'all get something good out of it.

Thank you for being here. 💛

Please allow me to reintroduce myself;

Hi, my name is Lorren.

I'm 29 years old and I'm a multimedia artist.

I have 8 years of previous experience in Hospitality & customer service. (Training since I'd been in high school until I'd finally had an epiphany and realized that I absolutely HATED IT.)

I have 2 years experience in retail where I re-discovered my artistic flair that high school art class had previously all but killed in me; then went back to pursue my hospitality training and tried to cultivate my re-discovered love of art (because retail had killed my passion for anything else just barely within two years) and I was even happy for a while...about four to six months to be exact.

Then I realized when I was just starting either my cert 2, or 3 in Hospitality; I didn't want to do this. I wanted to be the ceo of my own company; I even said so and when I did; it felt 'Right.' Certainly more right than Hospitality & Retail ever did. Those were just what I had been pushed into by the people around me because I was 'somewhat good at them'; but I HATED IT.

I hated how they stunted my creativity; I'd reach a certain level of skill, but then they'd keep me there because I was 'the best at it'. They wouldn't let me try anything new, or push myself; I got bored and everything I had initially liked about it quickly grew stale again. I became dispassionate, anxious and filled with resentment. I did what I was supposed to, but I stopped going above and beyond for them from then on.

It took a pretty serious and personal event (even after my health had already taken a steep dive) to finally see that there was absolutely no future there for me. At least; it wasn't a future that I wanted. I was even going to get a job out of it, but after seeing how they treated me when I was sick and how they treated when I was going through an extremely hard time with a very public, very embarrassing, personal matter; I turned down the position.

I had never felt more liberated, or more nervous, yet calm about where my life would be headed from then on, but more about that at a later time.

My mission is to offer my skills in;

Handcrafts I.e. small scale model scenes, landscapes, events etc, I also dable in making some hair accessories, keyrings as well as home decor.

Painting I.e. hand painted canvas, coasters, trinket boxes etc.

Digital design & printing I.e. digital drawings of my own designs, & some are from collabs, (I mark & credit each one) I also have experience turning hand drawings into digital drawings & we can have whichever design you choose printed on items such as; mugs, wallet flip phonecase, regular back phonecases, etc.(also hoping to expand to t-shirts, journals, stickers & notepads)

I utilize all of these skills to help you celebrate;

~You & Your Loved Ones; birthdays, achievements, experiences, milestones, etc.

~Your pets; birthdays, achievements, experiences, milestones, etc.

~Your Business; anniversaries, achievements, milestones, etc.

~Comemorate that special trip/s to that/those far away place/s you had always wanted to go.

Because you, your Loved ones, your stories, experiences and your life is worth celebrating and should be done so with gifts that are as valuable, meaningful & unique as you are.

It's also my hope to remind you through my work; that in a society that favors mediocrity, in authenticity, copycats & shuns individuality; I challenge you to 'Dare to be different.'

Take care and stay golden.💛

~Lorren

#missjscorner #artist #small business #handcrafts #handmade #digital artist #let me be real with you for a sec #im not sure what im doing #i just hope that we all get something good out of it #thank you for being here and I hope that you enjoy my work #get to know the artist #get to know the blogger

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shoutogepi · 3 years

Text

Newlyweds

┌────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ──────┐

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.3k

[ ☀︎, ✘ (𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝟏𝟖+) ]

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : quickie, oral (reader receiving), creampie, bathroom sex, pwp with a hint of feels

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : Your new husband can’t wait until your wedding night to appreciate your body, so he convinces you to give him ten minutes before your wedding reception instead.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : so this isn’t really bday-ish, but!! i love him so much, and thinking about marrying him makes me emotional so… here’s this! happy birthday to my one and only mans, sho <3 wishing i could spend the day with him & shower him in gifts and love~~

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : Y/MOH/N = your maid of honor’s name

└────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ──────┘

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🄶iggles bubble past your lips, only to be returned by the sound of your boyfriend’s half-hearted shushes. Scratch that— he’s not your boyfriend, not even your fiancé— he’s your husband. The newfound fact makes happiness rush through your body, your heart as full of love as your hands are with his lapels.

Shouto’s laughing, the sound of his content making your ears ring and body sing with mirth. “Gentle, love,” he admonishes, craning his neck away from your lips’ attack. “You’ll ruin your makeup, and then y/moh/n will have me by the throat.” But his attempt at evading your advances falters, and he gladly, softly presses his mouth to yours, a low hum rumbling in his throat.

Instead of plunging his lithe fingers into your hair as he usually does, he cups your jaw in his hands and pulls your face close, leaning down to erase any distance between your mouths. A moment passes, allowing your tongues to caress one another. You break away, a string of saliva connecting your parted mouths as you stare at each other, the same amount of love and desire swirling in both of your gazes. “I’m the only one who gets to have you by the throat,” you state, nipping at his neck playfully with your teeth, careful to keep your stained lips off of his skin.

“No marks,” Shouto chuckles at the same time he gasps, his hands dropping to your waist, thumbing over the intricate details of your dress. He steps forward, corralling you back until your bottom hits the marble countertop at the sink, your head tilting back as his wet kisses trail down your neck. “Not yet, anyway… we’ll have to save that for tonight, baby. Ugh, I can hardly wait.” His fingers move to cup your breasts through your dress, giving them a firm squeeze as his mouth lowers to kiss at your cleavage.

“Nnn, Sho—” you moan quietly, restraining yourself from carding your fingers through his silky locks and messing up his hair. “Faster, we don’t have a lot of time…”

He pulls back from your chest after planting a kiss on the top of each of your tits, his intense gaze piercing into your soul and sending warmth to your cheeks. “I wish I could take my time with you… You are so gorgeous, my love. I barely got through the pictures without a hard-on,” he bites his lip while his eyes flick over your body before he yanks a few paper towels from the pile in between the sinks, throwing them haphazardly on the floor and the counter behind you. Then, he discards his jacket, hanging it on one of the stalls before he drops to his knees before you, ushering you to sit on the ledge he prepared.

You do as he instructs, your legs spreading as he situates himself between them, his hands eagerly pushing up the luxurious material of your skirt. “Later,” you answer his wish, your hands taking the bunched up material from his while his hands move to instead curl around your thighs, tugging your body to teeter right on the edge of the countertop. “We have our whole lives, baby. We can take our time th— ahh!”

Shouto cuts you off as he kisses your clit through your lacy lingerie, pressing his face right against your cunt and breathing in your arousal. He nuzzles your panties first, then pushes them aside for his tongue to immediately separate your slickening folds from bottom to top, circling the tip of his talented muscle around your clit. Your hips buck in his hold as you try to hold in the moans that so desperately want to escape, your breathing becoming heavy. But his firm grasp on your thighs holds you down, rending your lower half unable to move.

He laps at your slit with fervor, his tongue wriggling between your petals and stroking generously over your clit with every swirl. Your shoes click against the tile below as they fall off of you, your foot moving to press against the thick cock underneath his slacks that strains to reach for you. He hisses at your touch, his length leaking in his underwear as he devours your pussy, your arousal beginning to coat his lips while he shakes his head back and forth.

“Fuck, Shouto… that feels amazing,” you pant, your hand coming to rest on top of his head and push his face closer to you.

He moans into your core, lips slurping up your clit and tongue caressing the sensitive pearl. Your toes curl as a finger finds your soaked entrance, the tip of it gliding up and down your slit in a tauntingly slow oval, all the while his tongue lashing at your bundle of nerves. “Mmm,” he mumbles, taking a fresh breath of air as his finger pushes inside of you, your walls stretching to welcome the digit. “My wife tastes so fucking good,” he purrs, smirking as he feels you clench at the words, your hand dropping to overlap his on your thigh, the skin touching the band around his ring finger sizzling.

A second finger slips inside, the pair reaching deep inside of you, searching for that spongy spot that he knows will make you cry out for him. It doesn’t take long for him to find it, and he’s not at all surprised when you let out a choked groan, your hand flying up to cover your open mouth as your cunt wrings tight around him. His tidy fingernails brush against your velvet walls, stimulating you to the max as his mouth busies itself again with your puffy clit.

Your eyelids are drooping, the fake lashes fluttering as you struggle to keep your eyes open and focused on your husband going to work between your legs. “Uhhhn, Shouto, I’m gonna cum~” you whine, falling back onto your elbows and the top of your head brushing against the mirror.

It only spurs him on, tracing your clit in his mouth faster as his fingers keep the same pace and curl. He alternates between sucking and kissing, knowing how much it drives you crazy to have him making out with your cunt. Legs starting to shake around his head, you gasp as you fall headfirst into your climax, body going rigid as you tighten up around him. The ecstasy he brings you dunks your body into a pool of sweet, serene euphoria, and you’re too busy trying to breach the surface to even notice as he pulls you off the counter, fingers leaving your quivering cunt empty and wetter than ever.

Shouto stands, spinning you around so the front of your dress is pressed into the paper towels on the countertop, his hands bunching your skirt high enough so that he can see the backs of your trembling thighs. Then he’s pulling down his slacks half way down his thighs, his cock already shining with a sheen of precum drooling from his swollen tip. He moans as he rubs it against your slicked hole, fingers grabbing your cheeks to spread your body and watch how your pussy swallows his length greedily.

You barely have the strength to prop yourself up on your forearms as he thrusts to the hilt inside of you, trying to be mindful of the makeup your bridesmaids had spent so long perfecting. His name falls from your lips as he thumbs over your stretched opening, letting his hips retreat just so he can push himself inside ever so slowly.

“You look so beautiful taking my cock like this,” he huffs, eyeing the lewd expression painted on your face while his thrusts start to pick up. The slap of his heavy balls against your clit has your jaw hanging open, overstimulating you and causing your eyes to roll back. Shouto grunts, his cock twitching inside of you as he stares at your reflection in the mirror, gaze eventually dropping to the platinum band on his finger.

There’s so much emotion built up from hearing you recite your vows to him, from looking into your eyes and seeing the same affection peering back at him, from pulling you into his arms and dipping you down in front of all of your loved ones, sealing your marriage with the best kiss of his life. He can scarcely believe you’d said yes when he had dropped to one knee and asked you to spend the rest of his life with him— and he felt like he was in a dream when you’d echoed “I do” after him just an hour ago. He’s never felt like this about anyone, never thought that he deserved to be loved by anyone like you, never even known that a love like this could really exist.

“I love you,” he chokes out suddenly, his hands moving to fondle your body, trying to convey his feelings even though this is supposed to be just a simple quickie. He cups your stomach in one hand, feeling how it just barely stretches as he sheathes himself inside of you, his other hand curling around your thigh to keep your body in place as he feels his orgasm approaching. “I’m gonna make you so happy, love, I promise— fuck, I promise.”

His confession makes your body sing with elation, your breath fogging the glass as you pant for him. “I know, Sho— nnn god, I love you,” you whimper, barely holding it together as the hand on your stomach stretches so his fingertips can rub your clit with vigor. You’re fully overstimulated now, losing your mind at the pleasure that courses through you with each swing of his powerful hips. “Please cum inside, please…”

Shouto’s hand on your stomach jumps to your waist suddenly, and then he’s pounding into your cunt with reckless abandon, the ends of his dress shirt tickling your ass with each thrust. Just before he finishes, his left hand covers yours, your rings touching together as his fingers lace between your own and curl tight around your palm. He looks at the metal bands as he paints your insides white with his thick load, moaning all the while into your ear while he nuzzles into the back of your neck.

Silence save for your ragged breaths fills the bathroom for a moment, Shouto’s arm loosely hugging around your waist and pressing his body as flush against yours as he can with your clothes still half-on. He plants a gentle kiss on your cheek before he stands, grabbing a few more of the fancy towels on the counter and holding them underneath you as he pulls out. His breathing is still a little rough as he dabs at your sloppy cunt, instructing you to push out as much of his release as you can so you won’t have it dripping down your thighs during the reception. Carefully he cleans the both of you off, his lips quirked up into a sly smile as he puts your panties back into place, helping you into your shoes once again and making sure your dress falls to the floor as perfectly as it did before he ravaged you. Neither of you have to speak as you fix each other up, a shared smile of intimacy on both your faces.

Once the both of you have resituated yourselves as best you can, Shouto presses a lasting kiss to your temple, his fingers stroking over your back soothingly. “I love you” he murmurs, lips still pressed to your hairline. Repeating the words back, you smile up at him and indulge in a little nose nuzzle, pecking his grin as he guides you out of the bathroom.

The door resists as it bumps into someone, revealing Midoriya with his hands cupped over his ears, eyes closed, and face beet-red. Bakugou is slouching on the opposite wall, and he kicks the green-haired man in the shin as he watches the pair of you exit the bathroom.

“Took you long enough,” Bakugou grumbles, and though he’s putting on a tough-guy facade as usual, there’s a tiny dusting of pink across his cheeks. “Ten minutes my ass...”

Midoriya can’t seem to look you or Shouto in the eye, instead focusing on the boutonnière gracing Shouto’s breast pocket. “Ah, your reception entrance is scheduled to be in three minutes…” The poor man finally glances at you, eyes going wide and coughing as he looks away again, immediately deflecting your stare. “And um… y/n, you should probably uhh… fix your lipstick b-before then, I’ll go grab y/moh/n!”

Bakugou cackles at the other man’s bashfulness while he dashes off, and you feel your body heat up as you become flustered. You’d known that the pair were standing guard outside, but you hadn’t really thought about the possibility of them actually hearing your activities. The explosive blonde only shakes his hand and shoves his hands in his suit pockets, strolling off to leave the two of you alone for a minute, giving you space before you’re to be crowded around and fussed over for the rest of the night.

Shouto squeezes your hand to grab your attention, his smirk melting into a genuine smile as his soft eyes linger on your heated face. “Ready for our first dance, Mrs. Todoroki?” he murmurs, knowing fully well you’re still in a state of satiated bliss, and that he’ll have to hold you up the entire time. But it doesn’t really matter, because he also knows that you’re extra lovey-dovey after he’s made you cum, and he would carry you around the dancefloor all night if it means that he gets to be your one and only.

“So ready,” you sigh, leaning into his sturdy chest. You’re ready for your first dance, and all of the other firsts that a married couple may encounter, so long as you get to be with him.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

...this is major cheese and no i will not apologize for it. 🧀💗💍

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

earned it [04]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. DARK CONTENT, graphic violence, mentions of blood, explicit murder, sexual violence, angst, tw dubcon, mentions of mass murder, death threats, cheating, implications of suicide, typical mafia business + very unedited (please PLEASE read at your own discretion! if you do not wish to proceed to read because of the aforementioned warnings but want to know what happened anyway, please drop into my asks and i’ll retell it in a much less graphic version!)

chapter song. never forget you (zara larsson, mnek)

series masterlist

Death.

The stench of it reeked everywhere. Blood pooled at the ends of your dress, the warm liquid dripping from your fingers. You couldn’t see what was in front of you, not when your vision had been obscured black, painted red with everyone’s lifeless eyes staring back emptily at you and carrying an ominous message behind words that never had the chance to be spoken.

Satoru was gone.

You ran through flights of stairs as you bunched your dress up, dried blood present on your cheek. The gray cemented walls of this unknown building began to close down on you, suffocating you, trapping you – and then there he was. Your lover, your world, your everything – he stood on top of a pile of bodies, his face as grim as the deaths he’s caused, but that wasn’t what stood out from the scene. It was the fact you couldn’t recognize him anymore; the man before you was nothing else but the devil incarnate himself. Then, just as you ran his way, fingers outstretched to grasp at his shirt, Satoru disappeared.

He was gone.

A scream ripped out your throat as you scrambled for the sheets, pulling them up in a haste to shield yourself. The images were now gone, but that fear kept drumming into you, gloops of blood making its way through your room’s white exterior.

It’s not real, it’s not real – Satoru’s arms snaked over to your side, his eyes droopy from being woken up. You would’ve apologized, knowing he never really got proper sleep, but you were already wrapping your arms around yourself, gaze repeatedly darting back to the walls – to check for bodies, for blood, for death, for him.

“Hey,” Satoru drew you close to him until your head fell on his chest. Out of instinct, you flattened your ear above where his heartbeat rested. Thump thump – he was real, he was safe, alive – he wouldn’t do that. Satoru wasn’t that kind of person. You clung to him like a koala and mumbled incoherently at the skin of his neck, clutching his shirt so tight it wrinkled horribly. Satoru merely littered kisses all over the crown of your head to soothe you, although he was not free to this fear you felt; he was just as nervous for an unknown reason. “Angel, what’s wrong?”

“You-you were leaving—”

“Shh, angel, I’m not, I’m here,” he wrapped you closer to his body, the sheets still warm and smelling like him as if to add reassurance to his words. “You’re alright. I’m here, angel, it’s okay.”

“I was going to die,” you quivered. It had only been a fleeting moment when you saw it, but you were there too. Dressed in white, arms covered in lace and a crown adorning your head; it seemed as if you were meant to be on top of the bodies, and Satoru sat upon it like a throne. It transitioned from being the witness to being the victim in a minute and your chest squeezed so hard you choked out, “I was dying, baby.”

“You’re not going to die. No one’s going to hurt you, you understand?” Satoru cupped your cheeks to force you to look him in the eye. “I’m going to keep you safe no matter what. Not leaving your side, angel, that’s a promise.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I would never do that,” he nodded before he raised your pinky. Satoru looped both your fingers and kissed the conjoined form, not once leaving your gaze the whole time. “I promise,” he whispered, foreheads touching and breaths mingling. Like one soul intertwined, you once mused, feeling yourself get lost in the depth of azure pools he harboured. “There’s nowhere to go without you anyway; you’re the greatest gift in my life. I’d do anything for you.”

“Don’t leave me. Please.”

“I won’t, angel. I never will.”

And you believed that. Like the fool you were, you really believed that.

The bank loomed over you, its mere presence impending and bringing about a wave of discomfort to you. Awkwardly, you stepped inside, hiding your face in your hair to conceal the nausea threatening to urge you to throw up. You couldn’t help but survey the entire area out of instant wariness, holding tighter to your phone.

Seeing as there was no line, you sat on the nearest open window. “Hi, uhm…I recently got transferred this money from…an old friend, you could say,” you informed with furrowed brows, fishing your phone out of your pocket as you logged into your account. The whole time, your hands turned sweaty and the phone nearly slipped from your grasp out of anxiety. The woman assisting you flashed you a sympathetic smile, patient and kind enough to listen to your small voice through the glass. “I lost contact with them so I can’t return it. I was wondering if maybe you could help me rewind the transaction?”

“Oh, we can definitely do that Ma’am, may I see?” Nodding, you handed her your phone. In an instant, the polite smile fell from her lips, altering into a nervous one the next. “Oh…” she blinked back at the digits, clearly overwhelmed from the amount of zeroes. Dropping her voice, she leaned closer to you, “Do you…do you know the account owner personally?”

“Yes,” you admitted, “Well, I used to.”

“And they wired you all this?”

“About two weeks ago, yeah.”

The employee sat there for a full minute, possibly contemplating how to go about this. It didn’t set well with you – that mysterious, almost suspicious smile she had – that you debated whether just asking for your phone back. “Excuse me for a moment. I think I should take this to the higher-ups,” she announced while scanning the bank with narrowed eyes, leaving before you could have a say in it.

The next minutes that passed had never felt more gruelling.

You sat there with a frantic heart, your jeans damp from the countless times you’ve wiped your hand on it. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. People came in for their own agendas, the hushed ‘inside voice’ as faint as ever, then they left. Repeat. End of conversation.

It was just another normal, boring day for everyone else – but not for you.

“Miss?” a voice pulled you away from your thoughts. A half-bald man was now standing before you, the previous employee you’d been talking to right behind him, her head ducked down. Manager, his tag read, which made sense. He gestured for you to come inside the back parts of the bank, and you gripped your purse tighter as you followed them.

The inside wasn’t that special or different from the outside. There were lesser chairs but bigger, brighter white walls. His office was located right in the middle where the female employee closed the glass doors behind you, silent and timid as she prepared you tea. Meanwhile, you sat there with your hands wrung in your lap, stomach already falling from the grim expression he wore. “About the funds, I’m afraid we can’t do anything about this transaction. While it had been transferred you, neither us nor the bank has the authorization to do anything about this. Whoever sent it to you is the only one that can either take it back or liquidize it,” he pushed his glasses back to his face, an apologetic sigh leaving his lips. “I’m afraid we can’t help you with this, Miss, we’re really sorry—”

“No!” you slammed your palms on the desk, “No, I don’t want the money, wire it back to him!”

“Miss, we already told you, it’s out of control—”

You shook your head. This wasn’t real – Satoru had to be joking! He couldn’t just give you this and disappear into thin air! In fact, you never even cared for the money; you were just hoping that maybe you’d find a way back to him if nothing but digits was the only thing left to prove he even existed. Desperation clawed its way through your throat as you fell on your knees, helpless tears streaming down your face. “Please, you have to do something, I don’t want the money, I just want him back, please! I just need to talk to him once more and he’s your client, right? Let me talk to him, I know you have contact with him, Sir, please, I’m begging you—”

“Security!” the manager hollered. The sounds of doors slamming open made you stand up straight, eyes wide at the incoming pairs of guards ready to escort you out. “It’s best you schedule a personal appointment with the account owner, Miss. We also suggest you remain on the down-low instead of causing a ruckus like this. You don’t know who’s going to be grabbing at every opportunity to take what was given to you.”

“Everything’s been taken away from me!” you argued back, walking around the desk to clasp the manager’s hand. He pulled away for a moment before you squeezed his hands, the tearing of your heart too painful to bear. You just wanted to see him. “Come on, please, I don’t care about the money, I just—”

They didn’t let you finish. Just like Satoru, just like everybody else, they discarded you to the side, treated you like you were a nobody who didn’t deserve a second chance.

“Escort her out, please.”

And just like that, your fate had been decided. No...perhaps it had been determined the moment he left, and now you walked blearily along the narrowed gaps between buildings, unable to find your way back home.

Where was home anyway? Your penthouse with Satoru? Your cramped dorm back at the university? Your empty flat that had once been a happy home with your parents before they too, left you behind with nothing but a family portrait as a memory? It was pathetic. You meant nothing. Obviously, no one valued you enough, not even Satoru who’d just given you enough to let you live comfortably for the rest of your life. But no matter how much he provided, it wasn’t what you wanted. It wouldn’t bring back the one thing you wanted most, and you fell on the rough pavement, too tired to care about the stinging of your palms.

You clutched at your heart in a debilitated attempt to soothe way your chest squeezed uncomfortably. You were literally in the middle of the nowhere, trapped between the walls that hid you in the darkness and muffled your cries.

He’d left – he really left.

He didn’t keep his promise, and your nightmare had now become reality. You had to bite down your shirt to keep the agony to yourself, nails dug so deep into your jeans it left a mark above your skin. Hours passed, maybe minutes – who knew?

The sun had gone down and the streets grew busier than before, the honking and lively bustling of the night city like background noise to you.

Your key back to the penthouse weighed heavily at your back pocket. There was still the option of just going back home, but what good would that do? Everywhere you went, you were reminded of him. There was no escaping the beautiful memories he left you with, there was no exit from his miserable dream you were forced to wake up into.

Nothing mattered anymore. You felt so lost, the motivation to find your way back depleted just like your energy. You only had your bodily instincts to thank for when your stomach grumbled, demanding to be fed and nurtured even in such a hopeless situation. It made you want to laugh – that even as your heart and soul gave up on you – your body was doing its best to keep you alive and get through the day. You heaved yourself away from the wall and wiped the dirt away from your palms, the rhythm of your feet one heavy clump next to the other.

There was a nice Chinese restaurant at the end of the street that glowed brightly, invitingly. If you could just have dinner, maybe you’d feel better.

But you never got three steps across.

A cold blade had been pressed to your neck, sinister laughter echoing from the darkness of the night. “Scream and you die, sweetheart,” a gruff voice crooned in your ear, followed by a more high-pitched, maniacal chuckles. There was two of them. Fear lit your nerves up and you scrambled to run, but this man was too strong. He didn’t even have to try too much into increasing pressure to your neck, slicing the first layers of your skin that was enough to prick both blood and tears from you. “Ah, ah, ah! Resisting won’t get you anywhere. We just want to talk, okay? No foul play needed.”

You shut your eyes in submission, too afraid to even swallow the bile rising in case the movement would push the knife further. You could only let out a weak, “What do you want from me?”

“Oh, what else?” said his accomplice, showing up in front of you with a creepy smile. He tipped his head side to the side, revealing the silver replacements of his teeth that glinted under the streetlights. “You got his hidden slush fund, didn’t you?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t need to lie, we saw you leave that bank. Plus, everyone’s been talking about it!” cheered the guy behind you, pushing you forwards with his blade finally withdrawn. You stumbled on your feet as they pointed to the nearest ATM. For a moment, you contemplated making a run for it. The ATM was only a few kilometres away from the Chinese restaurant and you could be safe if you run fast enough, but you were too obvious, the deceit written all over your face. The first guy then pressed a gun against your head, a silent reminder that you were the weaker one here. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned, “Now you’ll withdraw it little by little, okay? We just want a piece of it, a fraction of it is enough to last us a lifetime.”

Exhaling deeply, you raised your hands in surrender. “I can’t withdraw it.”

“The fuck did you say?”

“I said I can’t withdraw it! I don’t have access—”

“Bullshit, bitch, you’ve got so much of it, just give to us before we kill you,” he cocked his gun, his friend following suit and retrieving a pistol from his belt. Your lips quivered at the sight of two guns aimed at your way, but you remained firm in your spot, shaking your head at them. The man’s eyes darkened, displeased by your response. He narrowed his eyes at you before nodding to his friend.

“Fuck this man, she’s a selfish cunt. Take her phone and her belongings.”

“No, please, don’t—”

It was too late. They had pushed you on the ground, your bum throbbing from the fall. The second guy rummaged your pockets before pulling out your wallet, jaw dropping from the contents. “Fuck,” he exclaimed, flashing a Polaroid you had kept the whole time. “This you and Six Eyes?”

Your heart fell.

It was a photo of you and Satoru on your first anniversary where he’d whisked you off to a sky tower, arrogantly declaring that he’d make you experience the best date ever.

He wasn’t lying – his arrangement of fireworks and a romantic date in the sky really had been the best – and he’d snapped a picture of you then, sneakily landing a kiss on your cheek while you gasped at the display of fireworks before you.

Just seeing it felt like torture all over again, and the thief snickered at your tear stained face. “Oh, I see. You’re his whore, aren’t you? Everyone called it bullshit when word got around Six Eyes had a little angel hidden somewhere around here. I gotta say though, you are a pretty thing. Makes sense you got him pussy whipped.”

“Whoever Six eyes fucks – especially someone he liked enough to pay this much – that is fine meat, man,” the other muttered more to himself. His eyes then lit up with a thought, the smirk tugging at his lips screaming trouble. “It’d be a shame to not have a taste.”

You paled. Scrambling as much as you could with sore legs, you pushed their arms away from you. “Let go of me!” you cried out, kicking harder when they’ve discarded their guns and focused on carrying you instead. Everything muted that night except for the pounding of your heart as you struggled to get away from them, arms flailing the moment one of them yanked your shirt down to expose your bra. “Don’t fucking touch me, let go!”

It must be luck that your punch landed on his nose, a sickening crack resonating in the street. All of you remained still, with you flattening your back on the wall, arms protectively sheltering your chest and the pair staring at the other guy’s broken nose.

He winced at seeing blood on his fingers, “Oh, you’re just asking for it bitch,” he snarled, snapping his fingers to get his friend’s attention and pointing at you. “Grab her leg.”

Both of them made quick work. It all happened so fast you couldn’t tell which was who anymore. Your shirt had been ripped off; the straps of your bra tugged down to free a nipple while your arms had been knocked into the building behind you. One of them kept you immobile, their grips too strong and their bodies twice your size that you were easily overpowered. You never cried so hard in your life – not even when you realized Satoru had left – and your throat ached from how much you wept.

“Stop, no, let go of me!”

“Shut her the fuck up, bruh,” the man unzipping your jeans scowled, his fingers playing with the waistband of your underwear. You sobbed and screamed, fought hard as much as you could, but you were too weak. Too vulnerable. Too pathetic.

Maybe it was just better to let go.

Maybe it was just better to stop.

Your shoulders fell as they shimmied your jeans down your hips, each and every inch of your body no longer yours. Was this how you would die? Was this how you would finish? If so, you would’ve appreciated at least one last dinner.

You were about to close your eyes the moment you heard the sounds of a man’s belt unbuckling, too lost in your own horror that you failed to hear the screeching of tires, and neither did they. And then, like a light at the end of the tunnel, like an angel dropping from the heavens – gunshots rang through the air. Blood splattered to your cheek. Heavy bodies crunched against the ground.

He’d come back.

Except it wasn’t Satoru leaning in front of a car when you opened your eyes. The man stood a few inches shorter, blond shaggy hair falling just above his eyebrows, the ends dyed black. His body was tilted to the side, half of his weight shifted on a cane upon closer look, but you were mostly captivated in his eyes. He showed no malice intent; hell, he didn’t even spare a glance at the corpses with holes between their eyes, silently blowing the smoke away from his barrel like this was a common thing for him.

He had his eyes on you, uncaring of the fact you were half-naked before him since his attention remained on your face.

“So it’s true,” he mused, “I didn’t believe at first when they said Six Eyes really gave the notes to his girl. A commoner, no less,” he limped towards you, feline-eyes slanted to inspect you. “But nothing about you is common, is there? To get the demon to soften up…you really must be something else,” his gloved hands ran a finger down to your jaw, and you shut your eyes tight, leaning away from his touch. The man clicked his tongue at your reactions but withdrew his hand anyway, stepping a few feet away from you to give you space. “Don’t be so scared. You and I are not that different. We’re both just poor victims of facing the consequences of his actions,” he tapped his cane at your shoes, his face devoid of expression. “Stand up. You won’t get anywhere by crying. You need to learn how to fight.”

You swung the door open, ready to finally get the shoes you’ve been gushing to Naoya about for days. But you were met with nothing but a tuft of white hair, blood smattered on his cheeks, and lips crashing down onto yours. Satoru pinned you against the wall in the same manner he held you on that day he left, his kisses harsh and longing while you moaned into his mouth, legs turning into jelly.

“Angel,” he rasped into your mouth, grinding his boner to the thin material of your night gown. “I told you you’re fucking mine.”

Satoru forced his tongue past your lips and kept you close to him, his intoxicating scent tempting you to give in and enjoy it already. For a split second, you faltered, kissing him back with the love you once harboured for him, but then you blanked.

This was Satoru.

You were married to Naoya.

He’d began to leave kisses at your jawline when you pulled back, landing a sharp elbow right at his head. Satoru fell on the floor and you panted above him as you tried to make yourself decent. Fuck, that hurt like a bitch. You had to roll your shoulders back to get rid of the tension as you made the mental note to train in combat harder, pinching the bridge of your noise before you summoned the servants.

Satoru was knocked out for a solid hour. You found it funny that the infamous omnipotent Six Eyes was now sprawled all over your couch, soft snores emitting from his lips. He’d been pretty unresponsive to you so ice far, not even a budge as you iced the bruise you’d left on his face.

You sighed. His shirt was stained with blood, the pads of his knuckles matted with wounds and bruises. You couldn’t help yourself from brushing his hair away from his eyes, humming a little until his eyes cracked open. Satoru stared at the ceiling before his eyes landed on you hovering before him, your touch gentle in paradox to the heat of your gaze. “What are you doing here, Satoru?” you sighed, gesturing to the mess he had on his shirt. “Where have you been?”

“In a fight.”

“No shit,” you rolled your eyes, “You still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here?”

“I-I don’t know. I just…I lost it for a moment and—”

“Do I want to know why?”

“It’s stupid,” he mumbled to himself and faced the couch. Even after seven years, he was still very much the petty kid at heart. You could confidently bet he was pouting right now, and you crossed your leg over the other, hiding a small smile behind your palm. “I overheard one of my men making a sleazy comment that Naoya’s wife looked like a bitch who would jump at every alpha male,” Satoru grumbled, prying for your reaction by looking across his shoulder. “I don’t know what came over me after that.”

“Did you kill them?”

“Almost,” he scrunched his nose, “Then I pictured your face. Maybe you wouldn’t want me to do that.”

“So you care about what I want now?”

Satoru shut his eyes. Of course you’d never stop bringing that up – both to your demises – since you were both a sadist who didn’t mind receiving pain every now and then. Five years of marriage with Naoya taught you to be resilient to all types of pain, the experiences and horrors you’ve lived through practically making you immune to them now. Satoru, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be on the same boat as you. He sat up, his hips flushed next to your thighs, burying his hands on his head. “Angel, about everything... are we not going to talk about what happened before?”

“Is there anything to talk about?” you deadpanned, surprising the guy who widened his eyes at you. Surely, he must be expecting a different form of hatred coming from you, but you were indifferent – numb, empty. “The past is in the past, Satoru. You know better than anyone else it’s easier to just walk away.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“For what?” you faked a smile, placing your chin on your hands while blinking up at him under innocent eyes. Naoya once told you that your attitude of being unbothered bothered a lot more people, and it was a technique you’ve loved ever since. Seeing Satoru crumble before you...nothing felt more satisfying. “For barging in here or for kissing me? Maybe both?”

“For everything,” he answered brokenly, “For all the pain I’ve put you through.”

“Do you think apologies are going to suddenly eradicate that?”

“…No.”

“Then I don’t need it,” you taunted, patting his thigh as you stood up, tying the knots of your robe safer this time. You couldn’t be bothered to wear underwear beneath them; if Satoru tried laying his hands on you again, you wouldn’t hesitate to cut his fingers off, and the plain sight of a dagger now strapped in your thigh was enough of a reminder for him. He made sure to keep his distance.

“Come with me. I’ll show you what we’ve been working on,” Satoru’s footsteps were silent as you led him past the secret doors hidden behind Naoya’s study, the room leading into an even bigger part of the house that stored most of your possessions. Satoru let out an awed gasp behind you once the lights and slight whirs of the machine buzzed through the room, chemicals bubbling from one side and little pills being packaged on the other. Your face lit up in a smile from the sheer pride of your hard work, arms extended to the side to present everything. “This is mostly where we manufacture Xenet. All of this – it’s mine. My personal little laboratory, or as Naoya calls it, my playroom,” you grinned, “I feel at peace here.”

“Making drugs?”

“Being safe,” you corrected with a roll of your eyes, “Acting like I’m normal. That gives me peace.”

Satoru was hot on your heels all the way to the main laboratory, where you’d pestered him into wearing safety gloves before entering. You donned a white coat from the blast of AC that enraged goosebumps, leading him in front of a huge clear wall that formulated Xenet’s pure creation. Stacks of purple powder lined up on layers all kept inside a cooling room, and you stepped to the side, muttering to yourself while checking today’s inventory like it was totally normal to manufacture illegal drugs inside your home.

You would’ve looked domestic if Satoru wasn’t feeling the slightest bit dizzy from the drug-coated atmosphere; one that you’d gotten resistant from.

“What brought you here?” Satoru voiced out, shaking his head to himself. He looked terribly devastated, cheeks sunken and dark circles lining his eyes. “I never thought...”

“That I’d be like you?” you finished for him. Tucking a stray strand behind your ear, you smiled at Satoru and pushed past him to list down your observations for today. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not like Naoya; I’m not a mass murderer.”

“But you’re supporting him.”

“He keeps me safe as long as I’m useful to him,” you paused in your tracks, the spite evident in your tongue. “If you hadn’t left me, I wouldn’t have to be like this. There are thousands of people after me because you named me after that account. Other than Naoya, there’s really no other reason I’m still alive and breathing,” Satoru was speechless from your confession, which was good, since you didn’t want him chatting too much in the first place. You ignored him as you continued typing notes on your monitor, acting unaffected, but the way you punched through the keys told a different story. “This is the least I could do for him. In exchange of protection, I’ll be sharing my intelligence and give him what he wants.”

“Doesn’t it sicken you that we’re like this? That we do all this – for money, power, control – without the slightest bit of conscience?” Satoru scoffed, “You’ve been married for him a long time. I know you’re not a stranger to the fact we even enjoy this.”

You stopped your task, turning to Satoru with flared nostrils. “You know, Satoru, painting yourself as a demon to look like a victim won’t make me sympathize,” you spat out, absolutely losing it. “I don’t care what you’ve been doing before you met me. I don’t care that you killed or hurt people. I’m not the slightest bit of the angel you claim me to be because if I was as pure as that, don’t you think I would’ve stopped loving you?”

Everything crumbled to dust.

Years of convincing yourself you didn’t care anymore, years of healing yourself, years of working hard to forget him – and all crumbled to dust.

“What are you—”

“I knew!” you cut him off, “I knew everything. I’m not dumb, Satoru. No matter how much you tried to hide it back then, I saw the blood stains. I could smell the alcohol. I know drugs when I see it,” Satoru took a step back in surprise, but you kept going. Now that you’ve started it, you might as well finish it, and your eyes pricked with tears before you could stop it. “But I never cared. I was selfish – blinded by love. Back then, I told myself I didn’t care who you were because I loved you unconditionally,” You were breathing hard from finally releasing that damn fucking weight off your shoulders, your resolve breaking as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand while Satoru remained frozen. “Every night, I cried myself to sleep. I always asked myself why did it have to be you? Why did you have to be that way? Why did you have to be a monster? It broke me to no end, Satoru, but every time I tried to think of you as awful, you would hold me so close that it felt like everything was a lie,” your voice faltered, “I loved you in spite of everything you’ve done. I’m just selfish like that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you cried, “Many times...I turned a blind eye to it. I didn’t want to force something out of you because I knew you weren’t ready, but I was always waiting, Satoru,” gesturing to the both of you, Satoru watched your frantic movements. “Did you think I didn’t mean it when I said I would love you no matter what – no matter who you might be? I meant every word of it. You didn’t have to leave me because I would’ve still left everything behind if you asked me to go with you. I don’t care anymore, I never did. I just wanted to be with you.”

“Angel...” he trailed off, debating whether to hold you or just stay put. Satoru chose the latter and ran his hands over his hair, breathing hard as he, too, wavered. “I was scared. Each time I see your face, I-I can’t help but think about losing you. It haunts me every fucking night that what if I’m not strong enough? What if I couldn’t protect you?” his voice broke, “You were the only good thing in my life. I couldn’t handle losing you just because you got too close.”

You shoved him hard. “That’s no fucking excuse! You told me – y-you told me that I made you feel strong, that I gave you hope, that I made you feel like nothing could stand in your way – so don’t stand there and fucking tell me you were scared!”

Satoru kept taking a step back from the force of your hits, and he took them all with a brave face, but it seemed that he too had reached his limit as you leered, “Don’t be a fucking coward!”

“It’s because I loved you!” Satoru gripped your wrists and tugged you to him, effectively taking the ability to speak away from you. “My whole life, I got everything I wanted and things were easy for me! I don’t know what it’s like to lose something because I had control of everything except you! I didn’t want you stuck and burdened with my sins all for the sake of something as greed!” he bellowed, his forehead connected with yours and the warmth of his body more than welcoming. “I am a greedy man, angel, I would take everything I want with no hesitation but I couldn’t do it with you. It was easier to let you go,” he mumbled, “Than to regret making you unhappy by revealing my true self. Because the way you looked at me – you loved me so much I don’t think I’m worthy of it,” Satoru trudged closer to you, almost rubbing his skin over your soft ones just to say, “I don’t deserve you.”

You pulled away from him.

You’d tore open every chance of reconciliation. And if you were to be honest? You didn’t regret it.

“You’re right,” you snickered sarcastically, “You really don’t deserve me. Here I thought maybe Naoya would be the weaker of the two of you, but he’s more of a man than you are, Satoru. Naoya never gave an excuse for anything – it didn’t matter whether he was capable of something or not – he always tried to the best of his ability. He’s not the type to give up before he’s even tried it,” You knew you were just pushing his buttons, this was much clear from how Satoru was holding himself back, but you couldn’t stop. You were unstoppable, harsh as you challenged your once lost lover who had now wound up before you once more.

“If you truly loved me and felt you didn’t deserve me, then don’t you think you should’ve tried harder?”

You wanted him to regret it. You wanted him to feel your pain a thousand times more. You wanted him to realize what he’d done wrong. But most of all, you wanted him to try harder, to redeem himself, to be worthy of a second chance.

But just like how he’d broken your heart before, Satoru did it again.

Because even after every fucking thing, the only thing he was capable of saying was: “I’m sorry, Angel.”

You’d grown too tired of apologies. But because it was him, because you loved him, then you’d fucking hear it all over again. Just try, you wanted to beg, try for me, Satoru.

“Your plans will continue to fail, Satoru,” you agonized, “You never protected me. The moment you left, my life turned to hell and I almost died way too many times for me to count. This time is no different. We’re all just pawns in the Zen’in’s game, so if you really want both of us to live, you should do your part,” Sighing, you turned away from him, just about ready to call it a night. You were too tired. “Give back the money to Naoya, and he’ll keep me safe until the end of it all. You can just go back to where you came from.”

“Naoya won’t stand a chance against Toji. It’s not his money anyway, he should give it back to his cousin—”

“And neither is it yours!”

“Don’t be fucking stupid, you see the flaw of his plans too!” Satoru gestured to your lab, to everything that you proudly claimed an effort of your hard work. “Even if I gave back everything to Naoya, it won’t stop Toji from anything! He might not kill you anymore, but he’ll definitely kill your husband and take over the mafia, or his kid, then where will you go?”

“Follow him into death like the good wife I am.”

Satoru was stunned by the lack of hesitance in your answer. “You’re serious about this,” he echoed, blinking back to process the gravity of your devotion to your husband. “Even if Toji somehow dies, it doesn’t change the fact Naoya will still proceed with plans to manipulate Japan to his will. He’s going to drug everyone until he’s at the top of the food chain. Your husband doesn’t want to be a businessman; he wants to be a god. Plus, he doesn’t care about you, he’s only using you!”

“Like I said,” you smiled weakly, “He keeps me safe as long as I’m useful to him. Once he gets everything he wants, it’s game over.”

“No...” Satoru gritted his teeth, “No, I won’t let it happen. You’re not going anywhere; you’re not going to die!”

“So then protect me!” you shouted at his face, “Do what it is you never got to do before and protect me! I’m disposable, don’t you see? No matter what I do, no matter where I go, no matter how loyal I am to him, I am nothing! Each step I take forwards is just a step closer to my prolonged death!” you spewed word for word with so much venom Satoru felt like he was choking, but it was nothing in comparison as you fell on the floor, weeping with your fists pressed against your eyes. “If you hadn’t left me...I wouldn’t have to live fearing for my life every second. So protect me, Satoru. If you really want me to forgive you, at least save me this once.”

“I will, angel,” he promised – and how many more promises had he made, only to break them? You couldn’t be blamed for not believing him, for finding wariness in his words, for flinching a little bit as he crouched before you, cupping your cheek the same way he did before. “I promise you that. I’m never leaving, never gonna leave your side ever again.”

“You better not,” you chuckled darkly, eventually giving in from his touch.

Yes, he’d left you...yes, he’d hurt you – but until now it felt like home, even if it also conflicted with the fact this was wrong.

“My only wish is that when I die, I want to die without hating you,” you muttered with your lips hovering his, your breaths tangling and his hands finding its way to your hair. “So don’t make me hate you anymore, Satoru. Grant me peace before I leave.”

“You’re not going to die,” he closed his eyes and took the first leap of faith by grazing his lips with yours, a faint glimmer of the sweetness he once had the pleasure of savouring with each waking moment of his life. But he was stupid back then – he’d be even more stupid to not learn his lesson this time around.

“I won’t let that happen, you understand?” Satoru breathed out, “You will be safe. You will live.”

He had said it so confidently, so surely, that for a moment, you believed it. You believed maybe you’d really win this round and come out unscathed, to live, to survive – even if the chances were slim to none to begin with. For now, you didn’t want to be a mafia leader’s wife, nor did you want to be another’s broken lover. You just wanted to be someone who didn’t want to die, to find comfort in the empty promises from the same man who kept breaking and breaking them, and maybe for now, that was enough.

Without another thought, not even the image of Naoya’s smile, you let it go.

You pulled Satoru close to you and kissed him hard and deep, swallowing his surprised moan with that exact same greediness, that desperation to live. You knew the moment Naoya came back or Toji found you, everything would be game over. So for now, this was enough.

A/N. SOOOOO? THOUGHTS? THEORIESSSSS? DO WE HAVE A TEAM NAOYA HERE OR IS IT JUST ME HAHAHAHAHA

taglist OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @greysoulthings @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn @90s-belladonna @tinyfrogsinmybrain @kinekyuroo @evesmores @ambiguous-something @lilith412426 @kakashiharusohma @aizawap | bolded users cannot be tagged ://

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djarinsbeskar · 3 years

Text

Dorne Part 2 - Boxer!Din AU

A/N: A cheeky birthday gift for my darling CiCi @astroboots I hope you have the most wonderful day, filled with laughter, love, lots of Riley cuddles and gifts galore! Thank you for being one of the most precious friends I've been lucky enough to meet and spend every day annoying, being a menace to, chatting with you and getting a glimpse into that beautiful brain of yours. Hope you enjoy it my love! I’m sorry it’s a bit of a mess asdfghj.

Word Count: 2.7k

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: SMUT! MFF oral sex (female receiving).

Main Masterlist | Boxer Materlist | Dorne Part 1

“I wanna see if she’s as greedy for pussy too, baby—”

“Mm, you’re just full of good ideas today, sweetheart.”

You preened under his praise, ass pressing back in a feline arch where he bunched your dress up. Your guest was still busy on her knees—dutifully lapping at his cock while he pressed an indulgent kiss beneath your jaw, inhaling the perfume you favored and the musky—primal scent of arousal that clung to your flushed skin. He nosed along the line of your jaw, your fingers carding through his hair, completely lost in each other as he found your mouth again—a low groan lost along your tongue when the woman hollowed her cheeks around his sensitive head.

“First… I wanna see how greedy you are for pussy.”

The low lights cast shadows across your features, but the way your eyes darkened—pupils dilated and ringed with kohl and mascara—ritual paint for a sacrifice to a heathen god—had him snarling at the worship you and your companion lay against his body. He swallowed thickly at the striking smirk that morphed on painted lips, grazing his mouth but avoiding a kiss as you dragged them down the exposed length of his torso.

The length of your dress shifted like water—deceived his lust addled eyes to appear like the wily, tempting swish of a fox’s tail as you slinked down his body to stroke your fingers through the other woman’s hair.

You purred something into her ear – secret and alluring – a siren call that darkened her gaze as she turned away from his cock, fist slowly stroking him as you tempted her to stand with your mouth on hers, tongue stroking into her mouth as you rose. She was helpless to resist – fuck how could she – the way your eyes indulged in her bountiful curves and striking silhouette highlighted by a silver dress that ended up in a pool on the floor when you pulled the straps down and let gravity do the rest.

“No underwear?” you hummed as you circled the woman gracefully, and while your guest was naked and breath-taking, his eyes were just as easily pulled to your form as your legs extended with each step in an effortless prowl, without the bolstered force of a male—but softer, deadlier. A lioness—a hunter. His.

Fuck—

You made him sit—made him wait. And fuck, he indulged your little power play—it was enticing, for now. That’s what he told himself as he watched the scene unfurl before his eyes.

The noises you were able to drag out of your guest were filthy as she lay sprawled like a decadent buffet on the oversized ottoman – the quilted velvet easily the size of a king sized bed where it sat under the dark light in the center of the room – and was his sponsors ingenious way of getting around the ‘no bed’ situation in Dorne. Din couldn’t count the number of times he had to stop himself from gripping his cock to stroke some relief as your tongue delved expertly between her folds.

His fingers curled into his thigh, one hand massaging his balls distractedly as his lips twisted into a snarl.

The raven haired beauty – curls chaotic and wild fanning around her head – arched with a graceful bend in her spine. A dancer. Din mused as a licorice black melted into whiskey orbs—filling them with need as rich as his appetite for sex. They dropped to your hand pressing into the supple, toned flesh of her thigh to spread her legs wider. All part of the show… giving him a perfect view of the glistening slick gathering between puffy lips you were holding open with your other hand to flick your tongue over her hooded clit and curl up to gather that arousal on it.

“Mm… baby—she tastes so good…”

You were on your knees on the ottoman—down on your elbows with your ass in the air for him to watch the barely-there strip of fabric you called underwear darken with your own desire, gorgeous thighs accentuated by the suspenders that made up that fucking sinful lingerie set he had bought for you.

Fuck you were gorgeous… pink tongue that had lapped at his cock earlier now dripping saliva onto the pretty pussy of your guest, fingers smearing it into her slick with quick rubs over her clit and slit—making her cry with the pleasure as wetness leaked from her cunt and into your mouth. He could feel his muscles hum, a tense film of pressure running along his nerves and making him need to move. To stalk over there and take what as his. Waiting only made his neck strain with the growl he directed at the ceiling and your mischievous giggle incite a feral snarl in return.

“Come taste,” you looked over your shoulder, lips shiny and swollen from where he had ravaged your mouth—eyes weaving a spell over him, and he was helpless to resist you. He shot up, a bullet—a bull towards the cape as you refused to break eye contact when you kissed her navel, beckoning him over.

He was parched.

And your mouth was the first thing he needed. Hand moulding over the curve of your ass to dip along that strip of fabric between your cheeks, he pressed his fingers against your slick pussy lips from over your underwear and devoured your mouth. Groaning at the combined taste of your natural essence and the sweet tang of your guest, an accented aroma that brought you both to a frenzied high as his tongue greedily pillaged every drop.

The dancer – he decided she must have been – keened as he lost himself in your mouth, pulling his attention down to her naked form. He moaned with a feral lace of pride as he saw your fingers disappearing into her cunt with long, teasing strokes—your mouth finding his neck as he watched. Eyes only falling shut when you bit him. Bit him so hard his cock twitched violently—a silent claim in this hedonistic indulgence.

Mine.

The mark said.

Fuck, you were perfect. He gripped your jaw from where you were worrying a trail of marks into his flesh to kiss you hard,

“Back to work,” he growled.

And just like that, the dynamic shifted—an easy dominance he knew you weren’t strong enough to resist. Not when it was him. You might dominate your guest, but you would submit to him.

Challenge flared in those orbs, the woman on the ottoman gasping your name when your disobedience, your defiance showed itself in a third finger inside her dripping cunt—a hard swipe across her clit. Retaliating. He led your head down, back between her legs, and you followed—caught off guard when his free hand tugged your panties to the side to give your pussy a series of quick slaps.

You were drenched.

Slap slap slapslapslap—you mewled into her pussy, sucking her clit into your mouth as you fingered her—his own fingers grazing your neglected clit and making you push your ass back against him. He dropped to his elbow beside the dancer – Ally? Abby? Still no clue – and dropped his mouth to one of the peaked tips of her breasts. They were begging for attention, crowned in the glisten of his saliva as his tongue circled one, then the other—graveled growls soft and honey sweet against her skin while he stroked your hair.

“Talented, isn’t she? That tongue is a sin—”

“So greedy for my girl’s tongue…”

“Why don’t you beg for mine?”

And she did.

She begged. Begged for your tongue—begged for his, begged for you both. You glanced up her body, a landscape of willowy curves and heaving breasts as warbled pleas spilled from those pretty lips. You withdrew your fingers – she sobbed – to paint that body as you moved up it and Din took your place. Streaks of sticky slick stained her skin in the journey your fingers took up her toned stomach and between her breasts. You caught her whimpers with your mouth when Din’s tongue dragged a long swipe along her cunt, his facial hair sanding against soft skin and making her spasm under his tongue at the mixture of sensations. So different to the softness of your body.

He growled into her wet heat when she managed to pull your breasts from over the top of your bra, a pert nipple swallowed into her mouth when you leaned up enough to let her play. Giving him a sinners view of your wet cunt and rapturous expression when your head fell back between your shoulders as you leaned over her face, letting her ravish your tits and make moans spill wantonly from your lips.

It drove him wild, and he channeled it all into devouring her pussy with rapt dedication.

“Open,” he snarled when her legs tried to close around his head—her gasp of pleasure muffled around your breast when he forced even more juices from her as two thick digits speared her entrance. You keened, arching your back as you held her head to your breast, grinding your hips back in some desperate attempt to find relief. Relief your guest gave you with her fingers between your legs, rubbing over your clit in frantic swipes over your underwear.

“Din,” you panted, and he was delirious.

Drunk on the taste of you both, drunk on the fact that even receiving pleasure from another—it was his name you moaned. He wanted to take you right then and there, but fair was fair.

Your guest sobbed when he pulled away—cunt clenching where his fingers once were and the orgasm that had been cresting ebbed with a rock of her hips as she chased it. You dropped a kiss to her cheek, soothing her cries for release as you cupped her jaw to swallow them.

Din watched your hand slither down to her cunt once more, fingers splitting around her clit lazily while he shed the open shirt he still had on, kicking his pants off while he was at it.

“Up here, sweetheart—” he commanded once he was free, heavy cock in hand when he settled down on the ottoman. He smirked at the cogs turning in your head—shown in the glint of curiosity in those gorgeous eyes before you crawled into his lap to cup his cheeks. You cleaned his face of the other woman’s essence with kitten licks and languid kisses, and he almost lost himself in you—almost. He turned you with a guiding hand to your shoulders, your back to his chest while he nudged your temple with a growl, “gorgeous… so fucking gorgeous—”

You wriggled slightly – poor thing… untouched, desperate for relief – and he hooked your legs over his, spreading your thighs wide for the dancer to see how wet you were—her dark eyes turning obsidian as she crawled on all fours between your legs, kissing you indulgently and then him.

“Make my girl feel good, then you can cum,” he purred against her mouth, turning to press a kiss into your temple when you whimpered, your hand having dropped to stroke over your clothed clit.

He pulled it away – behave, baby – and you whined into his mouth as you turned your face up to kiss him, whispering against his mouth in nonsensical strings of babble—asking for more, please please please Din.

The woman watched you in awe, the control you had over her melting to willing submission as you kissed his scruffy jaw with wet licks.

The temptation to just fuck you right there and then—to turn you over and mount you roared in his mind with a territorial claim. Your pleas whispered so softly into his skin, he ached to fill you—to turn those pleas into cries of bliss as he sank his cock into you. Not yet. He wanted to see you come undone on another’s tongue as he directed them. The indirect pleasure he would give you—it was impossible to resist.

He pulled your panties to the side again as the woman kissed up your thighs, across your navel – that’s it… tease her – and the air on your cunt – soaked with desire – made you bite your lip, eyes fluttering closed when her wet breath fell onto it.

“Spead her open for me—” Din hummed, revelling in the wet squelch of them against her fingers as she opened you wide, her eyes full of hunger and her tongue flicking out across her lips. They lifted to him, her thighs rubbing together from where her own naked cunt was exposed and wanting as she waited, nuzzling her nose into the seam of your thigh—the trembling clench of your pussy finally making him show you some mercy.

The image of another woman’s face buried in your cunt when he finally allowed her to slake her hunger for your arousal made him feel more powerful than any victory in the ring, any bowed submission by bolstered masculinity from unworthy adversaries. It was an incomparable lust—to see you pleasured this way—framed by his body, the tongue between your folds under his command, and the both of you eager to please him—to please each other. Masculine pride that didn’t need overbearing territoriality, but a guiding hand and the trust you both put in him. That is what made his cock leak and twitch against your back.

“Avoid her clit—”

You whimpered.

“Two fingers in that needy cunt… listen to how soaked you are baby—”

She fingered you diligently, slender digits echoing the patterns he knew would have you crying—have you squirming had he not kept you prisoner against his chest—patterns he dictated. A swipe to your clit by her thumb, a mercy on her part—and he snarled a warning down at her.

“Slower, slower—she likes to be edged, don’t you, sweetheart?”

His arms kept you at his mercy, your body open and wanting as the siren between your legs slurped and sucked and spread your wetness—had you quivering under her tongue. He could hear it. The wet drags—you always got so wet, and the velvet soaked beneath you only proved the fact. Her tongue circled your clit, dropped down to prod your entrance on his command. You knew it—that was why your pleas were directed to him, your nose buried into his cheek as you babbled incoherently – touch me, touch me please – your fingers clawing at the back of his neck.

“I am touching you—” he muttered as he ghosted his lips across the arch of your neck that lay in vulnerable deference against his shoulder—hands tweaking pebbled nipples after he had unhooked the front of your bra, rolling them in coarse fingers before he gave one of them a quick slap, “what do you want, baby?”

You rutted your hips down to push your cunt further into the dancer’s mouth, her moans of approval making you sob at the vibrations, the dual clash of soft wet tongue and rough dry hands on your breasts. He snarled a command to suck your clit—the woman’s fathomless gaze meeting his as her ruby lips wrapped around that pretty little bundle of nerves to make you bow up out of his lap, your hands gripping her curls to claw her closer with a litany of curses and fuck fuck yes—yes more more more—

“Stop.”

Your sob was heartbroken as your orgasm slipped from your grasp – wind through the pampas grass – and you turned, his hand tangled in your guest’s hair to yank her back, and you dropped to engulf his cock in your mouth. It made him choke—made him forget for just a moment as his head fell back and a guttural moan dropped from his mouth in encouragement.

Din dragged the woman up as you sucked him off—kissing your essence right off her with long licks and plundering swipes into her mouth, his hips lifting to push himself deeper down your throat as it convulsed around his girth with a gag.

“I make you both cum, understand?” he growled—smirking when you both nodded deliriously—you with a messy mouth and stroking the length of his cock as it rested against your cheek, and her pussy drunk delirium fogging her gaze.

“Good girls…”

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Some moots who might enjoy: @highsviolets @krissology @charnelhouse @thepoisonofgod @uncle-kenobi

#happy birthday cici!#boxer!din #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #mando #the mandalorian smut #din djain fanfic #star wars #the mandalorian fanfic #pedro pascal

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ohyouarenana · 3 years

Text

Innocent intentions

CHARACTERS: Peh-Yan

Genre: Smut

Word count: 1.5k

TAGS/WARNINGS: Peh-Yan x fem!reader, Fingering. Slight Degradation. Slight Overstimulation. Vaginal Penetration. Use of petnames. Unprotected sex. Creampie. Cumming inside. Cockwarming. Katoptroniophilia. Tell me if I missed some.

Note: This is something I did for my own entertainment. I’m not a good writer nor is English my first language so you might find some grammatical errors.

!!DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18!!

Your boyfriend took over the office while his bestfriend is on his honeymoon. You wanted to visit him and relieve some of his stress since he’s all alone in the office without his bestfriends support. Even though you know your boyfriend is more than capable of taking care of everything by himself pretty well, he just doesn’t do well without his long life friend not being there with him. Little did you know you will be there more than expected.

You have been knocking for a while but there was no answer. You decided to enter and the first thing you saw was Peh-yan sitting in Pah-chin's usual seat. His full attention on the computer in front of him with his glasses laying low on his nose. Peh was wearing the tailored black and blue suit that Mitsuya gave as a gift. It was for helping him get a good deal on his new apartment. The suit hugged his form perfectly, showing every muscle in your boyfriend's body. To say he looked hot was an understatement.

“Hi honey” , you greeted your boyfriend. Peh finally lifted his head from the screen in front of him to be met with the most beautiful smile he saw, well that smile was the reason he fell for you head over heels. “Hi baby, what are you doing here?” He was happy to see you but also surprised. “Well I was worried you might be stressed so I came over to see how my boyfriend was doing” you walked over to where peh was sitting. “That’s really nice of you. I am a bit stressed but it’s working out, but you know a hug might help” Peh was patting his lap signaling you to sit with a sly grin on his face. You obligated his order and sat down while he back hugged you, nuzzling his face in your neck.

You stayed like that for a while until “babe can I put it in?” Peh was still nuzzling in your neck inhaling your flower scented perfume. You on the other hand were shocked by the request “It’s just been too much and we didn’t have the time to do it lately”. It’s true, after Harukis wedding Peh got so busy that he didn’t have time. He always came home dead tired and went straight to bed. “How about cockwarming? You get to work and have some time with me?”

With that Pehs hands went straight under your skirt, took your baby blue panties off and tossed it on the computer in front of him. He started with two fingers going over your cunt sliding up and down before opening your folds. The cold air hitting your hole made you shiver. Your boyfriend slowly circulated your clitories a little before putting one finger in your hole and adding another digit. Since it’s been a while he had to prepare you, he leaned back a little to get access to his pants. Peh pulled his cock out and stroked it a few times until it got fully erect. Sliding the bright pink head a few times between your folds nudging your sensitive bud.

“Peh please stop teasing” you plead. You could hear your boyfriend chuckle a little before finally putting it in your wet slicked pussy. You could feel the two thick veins that are usually visible on his dick sliding in and pressing against your tight walls. He was sliding it in painfully slowly and every time he got deeper the wider your walls stretch and the wetter you get, small moans being perceived from your mouth. “Fuck babe how was I able to stay so long without being inside you?” Peh said with a grunt.

Surprisingly Peh-yan didn’t start thrusting until you were a crying filled up cum mess the moment he slipped in your pussy. Instead he was sticking to his work and after 20 minutes he sent his last mail and shut down the device in front of you. A huge sigh left his lips while wrapping his arms around you. “You did great baby” putting your hand on the back of his head to bring him in for a kiss. The kiss started off sweet and loving, then it led to Peh slipping his tongue in and massaging the inside of your mouth which resulted in a full make out session.

“Baby did you know this mirror here isn’t just a normal one?” Your boyfriend turned the leather chair to the wall behind you. There was a low shelf and on top was a horizontally long slim mirror. You could clearly see your boyfriend's cock inside of you. But that’s all the mirror could reflect, from your neck to the lower part of your bodies and your knees. Seeing how Peh-yans pulsating full length isn’t just yet fully inside you made you clench a little tighter around him. “Huh? you like seeing your tight cunt wrapped prettily around my cock?” Peh was whispering so close to your ear and his low deep voice didn’t help your state at all. “I wonder how tight you could get when you find out that this mirror has a built-in camera. We could watch the video later on, what do you think kitty?” You couldn’t manage to say a word. Your head is full of Pehs throbbing dick, you could feel it well since how tight your walls are clenching around him.

“Ah you could snap my dick off by how hard you are tightening sweetie. Are you perhaps imagining someone else seeing the video? Does the idea of other people seeing your dripping cunt wrapped around my fat cock turn you on?” Peh was kissing the sweet spots on your neck while his hand was massaging one breast and pinching the nipple of the other one. You were dangerously close to your orgasm if your boyfriend was just to thrust…. “I didn’t know my sweet angelic baby was such a slut that her cunt can be so drenched just by the idea of someone seeing her in this indecent form” with his last comment you throw your head back on his shoulder, orgasming so hard your whole body trembles. Your toes curl in while you grip the leather handles on each side of the chair so hard that your fingers turn white. You came down from your high with glistening eyes. You feel a few tears running down your heated cheeks. Your vision is a little hazy but you can see the hickeys Peh left on your neck.

“Who told you to cum? I didn’t give you permission to come and mess Pah-chins chair” you looked down to see Peh’s length dripping with your cum and down on the leather chair. “I’m sorry baby, I will make it up to you but can we head home first please.” You looked at your boyfriend’s face with pleading eyes. “You really are brave love” Peh smirked looking forward in the mirror. He held the inner side of your knees and spread your legs wide open, putting each leg on the chair handles. The stretch on your pussy made you leak more.

Peh shifted his position a little to get a better angel. The new position made his length slide inside you fully. “Please baby I’m still sensitive after cumming, can you please wait a bit” your begging didn’t help at all, on the contrary it made Peh harder. Holding the underside of your thighs Peh started thrusting in your throbbing pussy. With each thrust he was stroking your g spot, the head of his cock kissing your cervix.

Sliding one of his hands to your throbbing lower lips opening them wide open. “Look dollface, your cunt loves me so much that it’s not letting go, sucking me in more” you lift your head to see the view right in front of you. Pehs dick thrusting in and out at a fast pace while his index and middle fingers started playing with your swollen bud. It was too much for you to handle. you wanted to say something. But you couldn’t even think up any words in your mind, nonetheless make any sound come out of your mouth.

The overstimulation tormenting you makes your high closer but you couldn’t cum yet, not without Pehs permission. “B-baby…” you managed to moan out “I know babygirl, cum for me” with one deep thrust of Peh, you came all over his dick making your thighs quiver. Peh came after a few more sloppy thrusts painting your tight walls with his cum. Your boyfriend put his head on your shoulders close to your ears. “Look sweetheart” Peh pulled his cock out making his thick semen flow down your hole into the chair making more mess than you.

#tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #peh yan #peh yan smut #peh yan x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers headcanons

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yinses · 3 years

Text

nanami kento ft. f! reader + lots of praise + soft dom nana + fingering + semi clothed sex + domestic au

rating: 18+ wc: 2.2k a/n: inspired by this fanart that sister yulia blessed me with. nanami supremacy for all.

you take notice in the shift the moment he crosses the threshold. hair tousled and tie askew is nothing new to expect from your husband after a long day at work. he takes his job seriously and his goal to provide even more so, often sacrificing extra hours just to provide for more than what you ask.

he strived for a life of comfort, he’d told you before marriage. it was something he worked hard for prior to you and only doubled his efforts to ensure that future after putting a ring on your finger.

it wore down on him, adding maturity lines earlier than they should present themselves and taking away years he needed to give back to himself. but nanami kento was a man of consistency, even when those boundaries started to fracture.

you could feel the splinters echoing beyond the slam of the door closing shut from the kick of his heel. it rattles straight to your core as you stand there, held hostage by the stormy pools of blue staring down at you. his day had likely been another one of agitation piled on top of another. surely a cup of tea before dinner would help soothe the cracks of frustration.

though neither your lips could form the words nor could your feet cross the distance it took to move in any direction.

this plight was not a fault of your husband who stepped confidently in your direction, a single finger coming up to remove his tie all together.

“is dinner on the stove?”

your mind blanked at the question, frazzled at the sight of him handling his cuffs with practiced care as he set one gifted metal piece aside one after the other. you had a plan set in motion from the moment he kissed your forehead in departure that morning, but everything beyond that suddenly felt trapped.

lips stumbled over answers and your cheeks warmed at the foolish display. what had swept into your household to shift the mood so?

nanami appeared otherwise unaffected as he finished rolling up the last sleeve. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, capturing your fraying attention as he looks around you towards the kitchen. you think you see his nose twitch once before his gaze falls back down.

“i don’t smell anything burning.” his intentions are becoming increasingly clear as his hand comes up to cup your cheek, a single thumb swiping at the fullness of your lips before pressing against the corner. without a second thought, you part them.

it provides a catalyst that gets you pressed against the nearest wall with one wrist pinned near the frame displaying your wedding day.

when his lips lower, you crane your neck in response only to have them stop just short of a whisper. his breath ghosts a trail down the exposed column of your throat, nose edge the line of your jaw. you swear you feel him smile against the shiver of anticipation rattling your form.

“i would like to fuck you in this hallway, if that’s alright, darling?” the thumb still trapped between your teeth, presses down against your tongue as if to prompt an answer yet he doesn’t pause for one.

“i’ve already put in a request for the cleaners to come and groom the rug tomorrow so you’ll need not to worry about that.”

your toes curl against the fine woven carpet at your feet, nerves tingling at the premeditated situation that you’ve found yourself in. your husband, who was now suckling soft blooms under your chin, had taken time out of his day to schedule a clean up for the mess he planned to make out of you. the idea made your knees go weak.

nanami chuckled knowingly as he caught your descent with the sharp line of his hips. “i imagine that’s agreeable with you, wife?”

the hasty nod of your head dislodges his finger, but he’s quick to replace it with his lips. the kiss is all consuming as his tongue slips between the seam, allowing you to taste the moan from his lips.

you may as well have had the script, dressed perfectly for the role as his knee nudges between your thigh and ride up the edge of your summer dress. he tells you all the time that you don’t need to try, that you look pretty in anything. but you like to go the extra mile. painting your lips a nice shade at home just to smear it in the passion of his kisses.

you know he appreciates it too. an inviting contrast to the mundane office view at work.

the same hand falls from the cut of your jaw to drag the hem of your dress up the ascent of your thigh. you’re more proud than embarrassed when his fingers tap against the tacky wet spot at the front of your panties.

his tongue clicks against the top of his mouth, “played with yourself while i was away again?” a firm swipe up followed by a press inward has you keening. “or did you just miss me this much?”

“yes.”

it’s both an answer and a cry for attention. a meaningless wail that meets no need of a man who would fracture the world to build you one better.

“my pretty little angel, it must be so hard when i’m away.”

he follows the panty line, teasing the sensitive skin there. the rumbling laugh you receive when your hips jerk in response makes your heart flutter. you’re still riding the tremors of your excitement when he nudges aside the lace of your panties to push a finger inside.

the intrusion meets minimal resistance as he slides from the first knuckle to the next. he still takes it as slow as your initial night, pumping in and out with care before adding a second. all the while, he peppers your face with kisses and words of adoration. nanami moves his thumb to flick over your nub before pressing down hard until you cry out.

pretty, beautiful, gorgeous, mine, are all formations of adoration that he mutters against your skin while he unravels you thread by thread.

“take it, darling, i’ll give you another.”

he utters a low curse at the sharp keening sound, enthralled by how your body trembled as he worked his fingers deeper. nanami lowered his head back to the junction of your shoulder, where he flicked his tongue against the feverish skin. your high whines and small gasps encouraged him to pick up the pace, hips rocking against yours with the precipice of something more, yet he ignored the growing discomfort in his pants to focus all the different ways your mouth formed his name.

his teeth mark your skin, where they tenderly nipped and sucked, leaving fresh marks while you twisted in his hold. you emit a shuddering cry, nails raking over his skin as your body pulls tight as a bow string. the shaky breath lining your lips forms a mantra of his name, over and over until the tremors ebb away. what remains are shaky legs that nearly slump over, caught by your husband as he follows you to the ground.

still floating down from your high, you could vaguely make out the sounds of nanami sucking off his fingers, removing them with lasciviously loud pops. when your gaze eventually focuses, you find him waiting with an eager, seductive smirk.

“ready for me then?”

swallowing a sharp inhale, you nod.

hands heading down to the zipper of his pants, nanami pulled it down and shrugged the material away to free his cock. one hand grabbing himself and the other reached for your left leg which he threw over his shoulder. you immediately try to grind down, slippery lips colliding with warm flesh.

“thought about you all day while i was at work.” nanami purrs breathily with half-lidded eyes, taking in the sight before he would take you to heaven. “thinking about how you would feel around me and mad with pleasure.”

his hand reaches for yours, capturing the digits and bringing them to his lips. he takes his time, allowing his tongue to glide up and down your fingers before kissing your palm, murmuring heated words against them; “thought about our wedding night… those twisted sheets wrung dry”

you feel his hips roll once, probing slightly, before he jerks forward and grunts at the overflowing heat engulfing him. still reeling from your first, your body was pliant and gracious while he chased his. your chest heaved up and down as you tried to calm your breathing while lips continued to release indecent moans.

his grip slides down to your wrists, pressing them above your head into the rug as he adjusted over you. there was an unmistakable provocative outline in his lust-darkened blue eyes. the blonde’s lips meshed intricate patterns against your cheeks, moving downward to capture your lips in a tight needy kiss that made nanami twitch even further.

it made his last strand of self-restraint snap before he met you stroke for stroke, grounding down on you deeply. your lips broke apart with a loud cry that milked with a following angled push as he snatched at your other leg to wrap around his waist. his movements were perfectly concise, designed to make you lose control with the potent effect of his affections.

picking up the pace when your high whines turned into full-blown moans, he inhaled sharply and choked out as coherently as he could,”together, darling, meet me there. i know you can.”

then he shifted on his knees slightly, that brought on a new change in the angle as he continued thrusting deeper, watching how your head thrashed from side to side and you repeatedly arched against him, trying to meet his every move. the delectable bead of sweat that ran down your throat was promptly licked up by the blonde as he sucked on your pulse.

his hands were ever so helpful in guiding your hips as he slowed down his speed to a torturous beat, rolling his hips in deeply to tease the edge. he knew where the peak was, hovering just at the horizon as he marched gradually up the hill. nanami was practiced in the art of getting you there, watching as your spine arched to accommodate is languid yet deep drives.

“ ‘m there, kenny-please”

it was silenced with on of his brain-numbing kisses again as he captured your lips. you could feel the slight curve of his mouth as he pulled out almost fully, making you slutter in the middle of your kiss.

“that’s it, “ he hissed, loving how you pant his name with each of his thrust, trying to manage coherency past how tightly you clenched around him. “we’re there baby. take me with you.”

nanami could feel himself losing control with your begging, fitfully aware you were going to tumble over the edge with him right behind. he abruptly accelerated his thrusts once more, bringing you to meet him sharply. each time he struck, he made sure that he prodded that spot that would drive you frenzied and wild, gazing in satisfaction as you squirmed harder under his skilled touches.

“c-come now, love.” he grunted, phishing past all bounds as he rammed into you repeatedly, losing himself to the sensation crawling up his skin. “do it. be good for me, princess.”

your head twisted and turned as your mouth hung open. vision getting lost in the blinding white. body growing weaker. as if determined to break you entirely, his hand traveled down your navel to come between your joined bodies. expert fingers quickly found you clit as he rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, coaxing you to let go of everything as he whispered lewd thoughts into your ear.

“k-kenny!”

that was all the warning he had when your toes curled and he could feel your walls spasm around him. the flow of sensations ignited his nerves, left to surrender as you became impossible tighter around him, jerking him into his own release as well. a hiss was all he could manage as he slammed into you, shuddering through his climax.

the world exploded into a disarray of hues as he slumped forward, bracing a single arm above your figure while he panted heavily through euphoria.

“bad day at work?” you manage to get out.

he grunts at first, a small sound of misunderstanding before the mutual foggy haze lifts to prompt clarity. a breathy chuckle leaves him.

“never a bad day with you in my life. just missed you is all.” his words are slightly slurred, much unlike your husband but very a keen to a man on the verge of undeniable sleep.

dinner could wait.

“why don’t we take an early evening nap and have dinner in bed later?”

who could deny that?

you get a slow kiss of affirmation in return.

#nanami kento x reader #Nanami x Reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #nanami sins

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chiwhorei · 3 years

Text

mouth full

your friends assume tadashi fucks you in missionary with the lights off.

pairing: dom!t. yamaguchi x fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+ minors dni

word count: 1.7k

warnings: public fingering, degradation, hair pulling, spit, gagging, humiliation, spanking, rough oral, recording

a/n: this was a birthday piece i started for tadashi that’s now days late. no beta on this, it’s almost 3 am so i’ll die like a man. this is also dedicated to @kyovtani because zade loves hard dom yams just as much as i do. anyway, i hope you enjoy!

hymn: get you by: daniel caesar ft. kali uchis

Vanilla is the night’s flavor.

“You and y/n are great together and that’s all that matters.” Daichi’s comment rings in your ear as a preceding jab settles through the group of old friends. Your cheeks flush bright hot, the glass of red wine in your system makes a broken, awkward laugh fall from your lips.

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes. The comment isn’t shocking, he’s been ribbed for his pliant, soft demeanor since you were all teenagers. Being Tadashi Yamaguchi’s high school sweetheart paints a distinct picture. When volleyball club reunions roll around and the liquor starts flowing, said picture is always outlined in assumptions about your sex life.

“Come on, there’s got to be something you do to have kept y/n around for all these years.” Suga, never one to miss an opportunity, pushes further. Tadashi flashes a watted smile, bringing one hand up to scratch at the back of his neck- a tick he’s adopted over the years when he’s put in the spotlight. It could be assumed he’s nervous, but you know better. Unseen from his seniors position across the table is the bruising hold his other hand has on your bare thigh. His eyes flash to you quickly, his glance holds heavy weight, “Don’t cause trouble, princess.”

You only get one warning.

You know what your next words will create, a resounding fog of anger settling against his usually casual aura, but you can’t seem to help yourself.

“Pfft, Tadashi couldn’t hurt a fly,” you snort and raise the cool glass to your mouth once again, gripping onto the stem tightly to ground yourself. As cabernet meets your lips, you feel deft fingers inching towards your naked cunt. The short black dress Tadashi picked out for you tonight gives you no reprieve from his wandering hand.

Your friends assume Tadashi fucks you in missionary with the lights off. Little do they know your lace panties are tucked away safely in his shirt pocket as they make him the butt of their jokes. Every drunken giggle and sidelong glance brings the tips of pretty fingers closer to the mess he’s made under the satin fabric.

A pathetic squeak escapes your lips, covered up weakly with a cough. Your whole body feels hot, balancing on the pin-sharp tingling feeling of your sweet, vanilla boyfriend’s groping.

You only get one warning with Tadashi, after that, you’re fucked.

The ride back to your shared apartment is suffocating to say the least. Tadashi only acknowledging you when opening the passenger side door, cradling your elbow softly to ease you into the car. The quiet surrounding the two of you is maddening, enough to make you explode in a tantrum, but you hold your tongue and press your thighs tighter together.

“I know your slutty little pussy isn’t dripping on my leather seat, princess.”

An elongated sigh leaves his chest, his hand coming up to card through his hair before finding a tight home against the steering wheel. You mumble an apology and try to find solace in smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress. The drive is only about ten minutes, but each second passing thumps against your restless heartbeat. Your punishment began as soon as the car door closed.

Pulling into the comlex’s driveway, the lump in your throat grows ten-fold. Tadashi cuts the engine, turning to stare down at your form slowly folding into itself.

“Look at me, princess.” His voice is soft and comforting, but when your chin is pulled upwards to meet his gaze, his eyes are wild. Furious.

You always know exactly what to do to piss him off in the most delicious way possible.

“I’m sorry, Tadashi I-” you’re cut off with a sharp tsk, the thumb resting under your bottom lip presses in harshly. Your lips part, tongue lolling out without needing to be told, and you look up dumbly at the brunette as his body leans over the console.

All personal space has disappeared, leaving you captive to his will. He seems to contemplate his next move for a moment before parting his own lips to release a thick trail of spit to fall into your mouth. You swallow obediently, the fire burning in your stomach smoldering at the taste of sugar-free mint gum. Tadashi gifts you a pleased hum, leaning back slightly to fish out your underwear from his pocket.

“You just never know when to keep that pretty mouth closed, huh?” His laugh is curdling, sending a jolt through your veins to wrap around the building tension in your core. An idea sparks in his head, you can tell.

“I know exactly how to shut you up.” Tadashi is on you in an instant, hand finding purchase on your neck and squeezing. You watch as the balled up lace is brought to your face. You look towards the full parking lot. Your front door is only a few yards away, but the idea of walking up to your apartment with your own used underwear shoved in your mouth is enough to make your legs wobbly.

Tadashi, however, has a resolve of steel. He’s got the confidence of a lion in these moments, something only you get to witness. It would be impressive if your mind wasn’t drowning in embarrassment. You feel the fabric against your lips and hurdle towards an emphatic truth.

Tadashi isn’t making a suggestion.

The article is stuffed into your awaiting mouth, and you moan around the intrusion. You’re humiliated and undeniably excited by your boyfriend’s dominant aire.

You clench desperately as Tadashi rounds the front of the car to help you out. Once steady, you feel his fist wrapping around your hair to pull you against his chest.

“My precious girl, it seems like you need to be reminded of your place.” The hold on your hair is tight, causing your scalp to prickle as he begins to drag you towards your shared home. The possibility of an unsuspecting neighbor seeing you in this state bubbles in your stomach but you are, thankfully, spared of any company.

Tadashi’s hot breath fans against your neck while he unlocks the door. He hums casually, turning the knob and pushing you inside and against the nearest facing wall. Your cheek presses against the cool surface.

“What do you think? Should I take you right here? You seemed desperate to get fucked in front of our friends, don’t get shy now.” His teeth nip at your ear to punctuate the sneering comment. You hear the sound your ass makes against his hand before the sting reaches your nerves, fire crackling against the skin.

“Such a little cockslut.” Your dress is hiked up above your hips, exposing your dripping pussy arched into Tadashi’s clothed crotch. The slick sheening your inner thighs cools in the draft. His fingers map out the curve before the calloused digits meet your swollen lips.

A moan reverberates from your chest, bouncing against the hallway walls as two fingers are pushed in with an embarrassing ease. You’re more than ready for anything he has to give you. His other hand pulls down the front of your dress, your tits now free for the brunette’s handling . He pinches your nipple, looking over your shoulder to watch the heaving of soft flesh when he pulls taught and lets go. You wine loudly, tongue pressed against the wet lace as you try to speak.

“It’s rude to talk with your mouth full, princess.” You’re yanked back by your hair once again. Tadashi turns you around to face him, his eyes dance with sadistic anger. He pulls your ruined panties from where they press in between your teeth. His thumb comes up to wipe the streaks of melted makeup and spit from your cheeks.

“Tadashi please, I- I want to make you feel good.” Your comment softens against his steel for a moment, but the dominance you roused awake with your attitude won't be assuaged that easily. His jaw clenches tightly, angled upward so his eyes cast down to look at your quivering form. The sight of your pretty, wobbly bottom lip and disheveled hair makes him want to wreck you even further.

He steps back slightly and you feel your lungs fill with air correctly for the first time in minutes. You’re only given a moment of reprieve though, the familiar feeling of fingers on your scalp returns quickly. Tadashi pushes you down to the floor, marvelling at the sight of your silky dress bunched around your waist. As soon as your knees hit the hardwood, you work to undo his belt and zipper.

His cock hits your nose as it's released from his boxers and slaps against his toned stomach. You take him in your hands, finger running a streak of precum down the path of a prominent vein on the underside.

“Don’t waste my time, princess. Get to work.” Tadashi posits through gritted teeth, throwing his head back at the feeling of your hot mouth. You suck against the reddened tip before relaxing your jaw to accommodate the rest of him. Your wet tongue laves against the heavy shaft, and Tadashi thinks to the snide comments that his friends recycle every opportunity they’re given.

What would they think if they saw you now? Face covered in tears and running mascara, crying for Tadashi’s forgiveness, begging to be punished. The thought has him thrusting against your already sore throat. It’s distinctly hilarious, the knowledge that his old teammates assume you get layed out on the bed and fucked with mediocre intent by a sweet, nervous lover.

“I’m going to cum on that pretty face,” Tadashi pulls out his phone, angling to get the perfect view. The precum on your lips replaces the pink lipstick you wore out to dinner, reflecting off the lights.

It’s a beautiful sight, heavy eyes look up at him, he pulls his cock from your mouth to stroke. Your tongue falls out, awaiting and obedient. Such a perfect little thing, it would be a shame to keep this to himself.

Tadashi presses record, he can’t help the sardonic snicker that escapes him. His friends would never believe this if you told them, they must be visual learners.

“Smile for the camera, princess.”

#yamaguchi x reader #yamaguchi tadashi x reader #yamaguchi smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #yamaguchi tadashi

1K notes · View notes

thesevro · 3 years

Text

gimme more / gojo s.

𝖌𝖔𝖏𝖔 𝖘𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖚 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖒𝖚𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 2.2K words

𝖁𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖊'𝖘 𝕯𝖆𝖞 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕱𝖊𝖇𝖗𝖚𝖆𝖗𝖞 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: Explicit SMUT, overstimulation, food play

A HALF-MELTED BUTTON of chocolate meets your mouth. You look up into blue ice, slipping your tongue from your mouth to take the chocolate between your lips. The blue of his eyes sparkles with unholy sin. His forefinger helps push the chocolate past your lips. Part of the finger slides into your mouth before he pulls it away to watch you with godless reverence. Then he bends down to kiss you.

"Want a taste, too," he mumbles into your mouth. Gojo balances his bulk with a hand on the pillow beneath your head. His tongue slides into your mouth. Licks yours. Tastes sweet sugar on your tongue.

His blindfold hangs at your neck. It is a makeshift collar of silk that brands you with an invisible stripe of his name. He'd tied it tight around your throat. With a finger, he uses it to pull you closer to him.

His chin bumps yours as he tilts his head to kiss you with deeper fervor. One of his thighs slips between your legs to tease you along with the probing fingers of one hand. He opens up enough space between his knee and your core so that his fingers can fit into your pants. His fingers brush your underwear. He grins into your mouth as you shiver against him. Gojo slips his fingers beneath the meddlesome fabric of your panties.

He meets your folds with probing fingers. Spreads the slick seeping from your hole with two fingers. His cock twitches in his pants as you jolt into his hand. You mewl like a kitten as he plays with your pussy.

Gojo laps up a tiny chocolate shedding. Slurps it up right from your mouth. It is sweet on his tongue. He loves the taste of it, the taste of you. The warmth of your tongue is hot and wet on his. He can feel you losing yourself. His mind has already begun to turn and twist into its own nodes.

Gojo fits one finger into you. With the dexterity of a skilled magician he slides his thumb down and along your clit. His middle finger curls inside you. You squeeze the thrusting digit with hot walls of velvet, throwing your head back and moaning loudly as he presses a spot inside you that has always been able to bring you so very close to your high. Gojo raises his head to watch as soft cries spill from your bruised mouth. Already he has been able to reduce you to such a state with a single finger.

A second finger sends your hole stretching wonderfully for him. Gojo licks at your bared throat. His tongue laps at the sweat on your neck. He feels you swallow while his tongue slides against your sweating flesh. You taste like sea salt. Like everything he has ever wanted.

"You liking your Valentine's Day gift?" he whispers into your ear. He nips the shell of your ear, smiles like a smug Cheshire cat as you moan with another curl of his fingers. Your thighs clench around his own leg, around his hand. "Do tell, bunny."

"Y-yes, God yes, I d-do," you stammer out. One of your hands reaches up to grab his head, and you use him to anchor your body as you arch into his hand. The sweet chocolate has disappeared on your tongue. You open your mouth to show him.

"Want one more?" he asks you. You don't even have to respond for him to know your answer.

He feeds you another bite of chocolate, using his mouth this time. He wants to taste you, and taste you well.

He holds the chocolate between his teeth. Kisses you with his mouth open. Using his tongue, he lets the chocolate slip from his mouth and into yours.

Your lips part, and you pant into the wet kisses he forces you to take, sighing as he slides his fingers into your sucking hole with more of his inherent sadism and the violence he tends to hide in himself. He wishes he could fuck your face. Kissing you is like reaching the very peak of cloud nine, but shoving his cock into your mouth is like hopping from cloud nine to cloud fourteen.

"Want to fuck you already baby," he says with his mouth on yours. "Want to taste you. Want to be inside you."

"Then why don't you hurry up already?" you say back. Eyes fierce. He smirks down at you. The way you tend to show desperation is never through a blatant display of please fuck me. Somehow you are always able to make him beg for it, beg for you.

"Of course bunny," he says. "Sit up for me?"

You rise from the bed. He kisses you again as he pulls your shirt up and over your head. You return the kiss with wet, tongue-filled intensity. It distracts him for a moment. Pulls him away from thoughts of fucking you until daylight.

He attempts to pull his head back. You drag him back to your mouth with your teeth around his bottom lip. Your hand falls on his thigh and slides up to fondle the engorged mass of his cock through his pants. He jerks into your palm. Gojo opens his eyes to watch you as you enjoy him. You sit naked before him, a bare canvas he wants to mark with his teeth and tongue and mouth and cock. He wants to paint you white with his cum. Purple with his teeth.

You part for air. Your hand releases its tight hold on his clothed cock to grab his own hand. You bring it to your core. Ask a silent question with a plead in your eyes and how you rut into his open hand with deadly seduction.

"Lie back down, baby," he tells you. You obey without question. The fire in you has spilled over to strike heat through your cunt. Heat that mixes with wet slick.

Gojo takes hold of your pants and the end of your undergarments. He slides it down and off your gorgeous legs. He kisses your thigh with your pants around your knees. Your body shakes like a struck chord.

He slips between your legs, motions smooth as butter. Gojo wonders what chocolate would taste like on your cunt, and is about to ask you if he could let himself have a taste of such a beautiful concoction, but you grate out a whine that makes his cock pulse.

"Satoru," you sigh. He becomes hyperaware of how tight it is in his pants. How tight yet much more satisfying it'll be to fuck his cock into you. "Don't need to be prepped. Can't you see I'm ready?"

Gojo observes with dark eyes as you slide your hand between your wonderful thighs and cup your pussy. He inhales sharply. Hell on fucking high.

Two of your fingers play with your slit. Dip into the sopping wetness there. You arch off the bed as you finger your clit with the insidious motions of a seductive minx.

Gojo practically rips his shirt off. He undoes his pants with deft fingers that tear the article of clothing down from the middle. He tosses the garment to the side.

You admire Gojo with hooded eyes. He is a man sculpted from only the most defined slabs of muscled flesh and the toned lines that are all the product of the hard work he has been putting in for nearly all his life now.

"Like what you see bunny?" he teases. You cock your head at him, plant your feet into the bed. With him between your legs, you roll your hips up to grind onto him. It is not enough to get him inside you.

But it is more than enough to finally make him snap.

He grasps each side of your waist, tightly, and barely even has to guide his cock into your hole to fuck his length into you. Dull throbs of pain squeeze at your hips with the unrelenting grip he has on your skin. If you were not as powerful or as strong as him he would have already broken your bones.

He slides into your slit. Shuts his eyes with the tightness of you tickling each nerve on his cock to hypersensitivity. Your walls suck him in. He grunts. Drives his hips forward with an already harsh thrust that makes your back bow upward. His cock slides against your walls. Gets drenched in slippery slick that forces the most obscene sounds to fill the air. The sounds of his cock thrusting into your pussy are sinful. Wet and loud in your ears. Gojo savors the sound of his hips slapping your thighs with each of his thrusts. He bends over to lace his fingers with yours. The other hand he has on your hip moves from your waist to your back. He holds your back up and uses the lifted vantage to thrust into you harder, deeper. You cry out.

"Satoru!" you moan. He grins.

His face hangs over yours. Your eyes scrunch up as he pistons his cock into you with more ferocity. He watches you with arrogance on every line of his face.

You smell like sweat and chocolate when he ducks his head into your neck. He sinks his teeth into your skin. Bites and licks like a hungry cat.

You feel so fucking good around him. He tilts his head to the side to mouth at the underside of your chin. You shudder at the ticklish sensation of his lips there.

"Feel so good, bunny," he says. "Feel like heaven. I want to fuck you until you can't walk."

You toss your head back at this. Your eyes roll back and behind your head. You squeeze him again, and he grunts deliciously into your ear.

"Oh baby," he breathes out. "I wonder what chocolate would taste like on you while you're like this."

His hips continue to drive you closer and closer to the edge of sighing delectation. With a free hand, he snatches another button of chocolate from the box sitting by your bedside. He smiles at you. Then he traces the outlines of your stomach with the little treat. Slips it along your chest and over your nipples before he drops it into your mouth. It melts as soon as it meets your tongue.

He leans forward to kiss you violently. His mouth transfers the chocolate from his tongue to yours. It tastes like a prize on you.

When he and you have finished gorging on the small bite of chocolate, he licks up the traces of it he left on the rest of your body. He begins with your nipples. His tongue circles the peaking buds with skill. The actions almost make you squirt on him.

"Satoru," you sigh. "So good."

"I know, bunny," he murmurs while finally returning to the perfect place with his face tucked into your neck. He sighs out a sharp breath as your folds swell and clench around him again. The cords in your neck strain against his lips as he bites you again and brings you to your high with another fast thrust of his hips. The bed cracks with this one. You do not hear it. Neither does he.

He only hears sweet cries of his name as you cum. They spread an indulgent high through him.

Gojo cums only seconds after. His powerful thighs shake. The muscles in his back tighten.

"(Y/N)," he pants as he fills you up. "Fuck."

His body sags in the wake of his orgasm. Yours lies limp beneath the expanse of his musculature. He rubs soft circles into your hip with his thumb as you come down from both your highs.

"Baby," he says out of the blue. You hum in response. Stroke his head with loving hands. "I just thought of something. Can I try it?"

"Mm. Yeah. Go ahead."

Gojo grins. You see the danger there and regret saying yes to such a wicked man.

He slips his body between your legs. You shiver as his cock slides out of your hole.

A head of white lies tucked between your thighs. Blue eyes look up at you as if to coax you further into the fire of vexation.

Then he slides his fingers along the oversensitive nerves of your pussy.

You gasp. "Satoru! What are you—ah!"

He slides two fingers through the mess of his cum and your own release. White coats each appendage. With a frown on his lips, he arrives at a disappointing conclusion.

"This isn't enough. Let me taste you."

Heat expands through your core, and the slightest flood of wetness seeps from your hole as he lowers his mouth to kiss your folds, even with the mess that dirties your beautiful, swollen slit.

He licks at your cum. Swallows his own cum up without hesitation. He slides his tongue into and along your pussy until you shine with only his saliva. Your body relaxes when he finally stops. He presses another gentle kiss to your puffy clit then sits up from the wonderful meal lying between your thighs.

"Was that good, bunny?" he asks. Something stiff pokes at your thigh. You glance downward and bite your lip.

"Yes."

"Then let me fuck you one more time."